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Chapter Text

The three suns beat down on a different layout of sand dunes than yesterday. From the desert rose waves of uncaring heat. Like an oven, the warmth became unbearable and Hup felt he might cook alive if he stayed outside much longer. He turned back into the safety of the Circle of The Suns, pushing the cloth aside as he entered. The smell of urdrupes hit his nose with little effect. He had spent so much time here the smell had become background. He opened and closed his hand, rolling his shoulder still in its sling which he had worn for almost half a trine now. His shoulder joint, collarbone, and arm had fractured After skekMal The Hunter threw him into a wall. He had spent this past half-trine healing under the expertly slow, methodical hand of urGoh The Wanderer. The urRu had been his main caretaker, with his counterpart skekGra being more focused on keeping updated on the world outside the Crystal Dessert.

"Arm...should be...healed...now," the mystic said in his usual slow drawl. The Wanderer had been up on his usual platform, smoking the urdrupe berry concoction from his pipe. He exhaled a large stream of smoke from his nose, taking up his walking stick and turning to walk down to the podling. Hup decided to help save the urRu the walk and made his way up the platform, meeting him halfway. The mystic set down his stick and carefully made his way about untying the sling from around Hup's neck. The podling then carefully moved his arm and hand about every which way he could. The bones had healed nicely, and the joint hadn't sealed together which was good.

His arm glided smoothly and he had little time to really get used to moving his arms again when skekGra The Heretic made one of his usual entrances.

"You're healed?!" he ask-yelled. "Good. Now is the time for your return."

The skekSis turned and quickly stepped away to the other side of the circle, towards his den. Hup looked back to urGoh, who just slowly shrugged both pairs of arms. Hup just turned to follow the skeksis as the urRu turned back to his platform and hookah.

"Go you must," the skekSis said, back still turned. "Go. To the Dark Wood you must return. A large part you yet have to play."

Hup didn't say anything, just stared in confusion at the skekSis. It was more the shock of seemingly being forced from recovery into a new quest. He had had no proper recovery period and was already being told to shove off.

"Packed for you I have," skekGra continued speaking, his back turned. "Provisions you will need for your journey. Much food, and plenty of water you will have. The desert is not a hospitable place for such a small podling slave."

"Hmph!" Hup humphed. He didn't like being called that at all. He had put up with it this long time, unable to leave the circle given its height, but it was still annoying.

"Prepared you will be for the long journey ahead of you," skekGra spun, almost knocking Hup back to the ground but the podling ducked quickly out of the way. He held a small bag in his hand and stuck it out to the little podling.

Hup just slowly took the bag and, still unsure of what was happening given he was unable to process what was happening.

"Bodyee nyuncechas ouamo!" the podling protested, finally finding the ability to speak.

"Into the future I have seen," skekGra pointed to the podling. "Towards Stone-in-the-Wood. Join the Resistance you will, meet back with your friends you must."

"But Hup-"

"Hup...should...rest," urGoh finished for the podling. "Very...hot...the...day...will... be. Strength...he must...rebuild. Leave...at...night. When brothers...have...set...and...air...is ...cooler."

"Hmm...very well," skekGra grumbled, rubbing the spike in his head. "Makes sense. More time to heal and prepare. Sure."

The skeksis walked off and Hup heaved a sigh. He'd still have to leave, but later, in more favorable conditions.

~~~~~

And just like that the day passed with the three brothers dipping below the horizon as the moon rose in the endless chase of her daughter's killers. The air cooled to more favorable conditions and the podling breathed heavily, taking up the pack skekGra had put together for him. Hup looked inside and saw the rations of food he had. Foreign objects stood out to him, so those would come last, but he recognized some of the food. That he would eat first. He also had two skins of water that he would have to make last. He shouldered the bag over his shoulder and took up his spoon, holstering it at his hip. He walked to the curtains and stood on the threshold.

He just stood there. He couldn't move, unable to find his footing. He stepped out and he would be on his own until Stone-in-the-Wood. Alone in the world again. Even though he knew it wouldn't be for long, it was still frightening for such a little podling. His heart beat quickly and the spoon he had on his hip seemed to weigh much more than it had before. He looked at the pile of stones that had used to be Lore. The stone golem had led them here after rescuing them from the skekSis' prison cart. He had been the one to carry them up here, meaning Hup also had to climb his way down. He didn't do well with heights.

"Hurumm," urGoh groaned, stirring from his sleep. "What...is...wrong...little podling?"

The mystic looked down on the podling from up high on his platform. There was a kindness and understanding in his eyes that eased Hup into a calm. Like the urRu would be able to read his mind and understand his fears. The four armed creature nodded as if in answer to his unspoken inquiry.

"Hup not ready," the podling said. He looked down at his feet, shifting them as he took off his cap in shame. He wanted to be a paladin, but he was afraid of stepping from the Circle of the Suns. Not very knightly to be afraid of a task given to you by Thra itself.

"Hup...never be ready," he added with a small voice. His shoulders slouched as the weight pushed down on him.

"Hm," The Wanderer pondered. He took up his walking stick and slowly made his way down to the podling. The shuffling was quiet but it still stirred the sleeping skekGra from his slumber. He was too tired to make much noise, but he looked to the meeting between the mystic and the podling from a distance.

urGoh stopped right in front of Hup and the little podling looked up to the larger mystic, afraid to make eye contact from his shame. But there was something about The Wanderer that Hup could trust. He looked up into the eye of the mystic who then laid one of his four hands on the podling, motioning to the ledge outside the entrance.

"Come...with...me," he said, voice much deeper from his sleep grogginess.

The podling let the mystic lead the way out the curtains to the ledge that looked over the Crystal Desert. With the moon full shining down on the sands, the tiniest particles caught the light, looking like stars themselves in the marching sands. The larger crystalline structures that jutted from the sand shone with the moonlight like brilliant galaxies all on their own. The cool air was colder than inside the Circle, but urGoh didn't seem bothered. Hup on the other hand fought back a few shivers until the urRu tore off a piece of cloth from his robes around him and formed, right there, a perfectly sized coat for the podling. Hup pulled it on, warming up quickly once the fabric was around his body.

"No one...is...ever...ready," the mystic said. "The...greatest heroes...none of them... were...ever...ready. But the path...calls...to you. You can't...ignore...Thra's...call...forever. No...not ready...but...prepared. You...are...prepared. You have...all...you need. You...just... need...to...take...your...first...step."

Hup felt a little better, looking down to the ground below and immediately regretting it. He snapped back up, looking straight across the desert, which looked endless.

"Long way down," he said.

"Ahh," the mystic said. "No...problem. Here."

He reached into his robes and pulled out the gem device that had activated Lore before.

"A few...modifications...I...have...made," he said. "A friend...to...join you...on... your...journey."

He handed it to Hup, who looked at it before turning and quickly returning inside to Lore's pile of stone. He put the device on the carved rocks, which started to vibrate and rebuild themselves. Hup looked up as the golem reassembled. The hulking figure looked at his newly formed body before looking down on the podling.

"Lore?" Hup asked.

The large creature leaned down and seemingly looked at Hup with recognition before nodding. Hup could help but feel overwhelmed at the golem's reanimation. He no longer felt alone. He felt a bit better. Like he actually had a chance to do this.

"Oh!" skekGra exclaimed. "That reminds me! I too have something else for you."

The skekSis stumbled around the dark, muttering to himself as he shifted through a bunch of things. He cursed in tongues Hup didn't recognize. Except the podling ones. The Heretic grabbed the spike in his head and jiggled it around a little.

"Aha!" he exclaimed. "That's where."

The skekSis turned and began looking around another spot. urGoh came up behind Hup and looked at his counterpart, sharing an amused look with Hup before returning to his platform.

"Ah!" skekGra said, turning back to the podling. He held two of his arms behind his back and walked back towards Hup.

"Surprise!" he exclaimed, showing off what made Hup's eyes widen with delight. "I created them myself."

The skekSis was proud of himself, as he should have been. Before Hup was a sword, much like the one Rian had yielded when skekMal attacked, but it had been sized down. The handle was smaller and fit nicely in his hand. The blade wasn't too long and was wieldable for a podling just his size.

"A fine blade if I say so myself," skekGra smiled. "Worthy of a paladin, no?!"

Hup took the blade and admired the craftsmanship. He had been so focused on the personalized sword he hadn't noticed the other gift. A bow and quiver filled with arrows that also fit his size.

"A bow and arrows," skekGra continued smiling. "Fashioned from urVa's very own bow and arrows. May the spirit of The Archer live on with you."

Hup sheathed the sword at his side, next to his trusty spoon. He slung the bow and quiver over his other shoulder, opposite his bag shoulder and pulled his cap back onto his head.

"Hup prepared," he said, standing proudly.

He turned to Lore and climbed up onto the stone creature's back. He looked back one last time to the skekSis and the urRu. He didn't know if he'd see them again, but they had helped him so much. Almost too much.

"Fala vam," he thanked in his language.

skekGra walked up to the podling on Lore's back, a rare calm in his own eyes.

"Trabom," he said in Hup's tongue, extending his hand up to the podling. "Hup The Honorable."

Hup was filled with the feeling of greatness. He felt like a paladin now. He reached out his own hand and shook with The Heretic.

"Fala avo," skekGra continued. "Zodzenpo."

Hup nodded.

"Zodzenpo," he repeated the farewell.

skekGra let go and backed away from Lore. Hup spun back to the golem and drew his spoon, pointing ahead to the horizon.

"Nabrushoo," he said. "Stone-in-Wood."

Lore jittered with excitement before taking off with Hup clinging to his back. Hup laughed in excitement as Lore climbed down the spire the Circle of The Suns sat atop with ease. In no time, Hup was on the ground and Lore had turned, jogging towards their destination. Hup noticed a pile of robes at the base of the spire as they ran off. The final resting place of The Archer. Hup turned away, towards the winds they were running into. He then began to sing the funerary dirge of his people. It was the least he could do to remember the mystic that had given his own life to save Hup's friends. Beings he had not known personally. Such a selfless act couldn't go forgotten.

"Tindyebo Bekua Staba doga alori

Shyata-oyo zeshaba aduma doda avi

Yamda bi kiraba Vapa So shi

Dze Aslampia'pida ya utomshi

Boka babi, yamda shoshi ashao

Ada bao temar mots nyotyano

'Yeta'pida soraro?' bao temar'ashai

Aslampia shyayo adado vatai

'Apada arwe shi. Apadido dana

Aslam mala-ga zagazaba ya Thra.'"

The wind was freezing and bit into the podling despite the warming mystic cloth around his body. Yet this wouldn't stop him. He was a paladin on a mission from Thra. He wouldn't let anyone down.

Chapter Text

"Rian?" Gurjin called. "Rian?"

The drenchen gelfling looked around him atop his landstrider at the thick forest. Had he already been to this place?

"No wonder they call it the Endless Forest," he remarked. "Hyah!"

The land-strider was spurred through an area that looked different. The beast had a difficult time making its way through the trees and vines, but it did its best. And Gurjin held on as tight as he could, ducking and weaving around as branches came at his face. They galloped through the underbrush for a few minutes before the gelfling pulled the strider to a halt. He looked around him and dismounted.

"Rian!" he called into the forest as loud as he could. "'He'll be in his usual place,' they said. 'Just look there.' Yeah well he doesn't exactly stay in one place when he goes off on his own. Rian!!!"

The drenchen looked around and started spinning in his place. It was becoming increasingly obvious to the point he could no longer deny it. He was lost.

"Oh no," he said to no one in particular. He had traveled off the road, and as such lost his way. It all looked the same. He could navigate the Swamp of Sog no problem, but the Endless Forests was a completely different landscape. The few times he had traveled them, he had had Rian as a guide, or his sister, who was the better tracker, to lead the way. But now he was alone, and on his own. The sensation of being lost in the woods weighed down on him and he began panicking. He heard a twig and spun to face the noise, drawing his sword and stopping it just short of Rian's neck.

"Oh for the sake of Thra," the drenchen gasped. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

Rian just stood there, not really reacting to the blade so close to his throat. He reached up calmly and lowered it away from himself.

"I don't mean to Gurjin," Rian apologized. "But I just assumed you would be looking for me."

"Aye," the drenchen said. "I was. But it appears I've gotten lost."

Rian flicked his eyes in a confusing look to the drenchen's left. Gurjin turned to see the path not a foot from where they stood.

"Look I was panicking," he said in defense.

"I could see that," Rian smirked.

"What? And you still snuck up on me?"

Rian just chuckled to himself.

"You make it too easy," the Stonewood warrior said.

"Yeah, well, gotta give you the ability to practice your sneaking abilities," Gurjin made up on the spot. "Never know if you'll come across a skekSis in the woods."

"I highly doubt that Gurjin," Rian smirked, climbing up onto the landstrider. "Come on."

He helped Gurjin up onto the land-strider and spurred the creature to start walking along the path, towards the base of operations for the rebellion.

"So," Rian started. "Why were you out looking for me?"

"The Maudra's need to see you," Gurjin said. "The general is needed for war strategy and battle planning."

"I suppose so," Rian answered.

"Plus it's about time to elect a new Maudra for Stonewood," Gurjin continued. "They would very much like your input."

Gurjin spurred the landstrider forward a bit faster, much to Rian's chagrin.

"So," Gurjin asked. "How far did you get this time?"

"I'm nearly done with this small section of grid," Rian answered. "After that, I'll have to go further beyond."

"She's not going to stand around in one place for you to find her Rian," the drenchen offered, as nicely as possible. "I'm sorry, but she's gone."

"I have to try," Rian said. "I can't just abandon her and leave her to whatever fate she'll face alone. She's my friend. And I won't let that happen."

"What if it's her destiny to meet her fate alone?" Gurjin offered.

"Then we'll have to rewrite fate," Rian snapped.

The silence was too quiet.

"Sorry," Gurjin apologized.

"No," Rian corrected. "You're right, I need to focus on more pressing things."

Gurjin could tell his friend only meant about half of what he was saying. He missed his friend and was doing all he could to find her, but that was getting in his way of his duty. He had seen something like this in his friend's eye about half a trine ago, when the skekSis had drained Myra. It wasn't as bad as all that back then, but it was bordering on that, and it worried Gurjin.

They approached Stone-in-the-Wood, home base for the gelfling resistance. A new wall was being built to fortify the clan's land. The walls encircled all of Stone-in-the-Wood, with multiple entrance points guarded by gelfling warriors. The gate to the fortifications had been adorned with the armor of both The Hunter skekMal and The General skekVar. The armor hung to tease the remaining skekSis, and remind them of what had happened. It was a challenge as well. The skekSis hadn't been seen since the Second Battle for Stone-in-the-Wood, most likely hiding out in the Castle of The Crystal as the cowards they were, continuing to worsen the blight upon Thra. They had no gelfling to drain and were most likely losing strength.

"I am fine," said the old soothsayer. "I do not need a guard accompaniment. I am Mother Aughra."

The embodiment of Thra turned from Maudra Laesid of the Drenchen and began marching away from the encampment. She looked up with her eye at the landstrider and nodded to the two soldiers atop it.

"Farewell Rian and Gurjin," she said. "I am off."

"Wait!" Rian called, hopping from the landstrider and landing with grace upon both feet. "Wait!"

Mother Aughra stopped in her tracks, pausing a moment to turn back to the Stonewood warrior.

"Yes, brave Rian?" she asked. "What is it?"

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Hmm," Aughra harrumphed. "That is a bit of a loaded question. Do you mean the final destination I am headed to? Do you mean the end goal, or the places I will stop along my way?"

"Umm," Rian murmured, taken aback by the further questioning.

"Ha," Aughra laughed. "I jest with you. In truth, even I do not know. Thra calls me and tells me that I must be off. Only a shadow of where I must go, she said. But it is a strong, solid shadow."

"I was wondering," Rian started. "If you would...that is, if you could..."

"I know what you would ask of me," the sage said calmly in between Rian's broken words, understanding in her voice. "Unfortunately, Thra only shows me what is important at the moment. I'm afraid Deet's location is kept from my discerning gaze."

Rian looked down with disappointment. At least he had asked.

"Fear not though," she said. "For I do see that we will all cross paths yet again. At some point, you will see Deet once more, as will I. Do not fret. Focus on the task at hand. Focus on the resistance. Thra will handle the rest."

She lay hand on the little gelfling's shoulder, looking him in the eye and telling him all would be well with a gesture. She gave a little smile, that he returned, before she snapped back to her usual stoic expression.

"Bah!" she exclaimed. "I have stayed here as long as I can. I must be off. Negative possibilities are multiplying as we speak. As I speak!"

She spun, red dress spinning with her as she marched off towards whatever destination she had, mumbling as she went and slamming her walking cane into the dirt.

"So much walking," Rian heard her before she left earshot.

"General Rian," Maudra Laesid called. "The Maudra's requested an audience."

Rian turned and marched to follow Gurjin's mother to the meeting place between the other Maudra's. The gate closed behind them as Gurjin rode in.

"Later Rian," Gurjin called.

"Later," he called back.

"Running off to search the woods when there's war on our doorstep?" Maudra Laesid scolded.

"I'm sorry," Rian apologized. "I'm still not used to this whole general thing."

"Well you'd better learn quickly," she snapped. "If the skekSis had attacked while you were gone?"

The rhetorical question hung in the air like a slow acting poison. The words bit into Rian as he understood the frustration.

"I'm sorry," he said.

They paused at the door to the Stonewood Maudra's council chamber. Maudra Laesid stopped him before he entered, using her stick to turn him to her.

"Shoulders up," she ordered. "Don't slouch. Keep your chin up and chest out. But not too far out. Hand always at your sword."

Rian just stood there and let The Maudra fix his posture.

"There," she said. "Like your father. Now stay that way."

Maudra Laesid opened the doors with a grand gesture and made her way into the chamber. Rian followed, at attention, as that is what she had put him in. How he was standing. He closed the door behind him and made his way into the chamber. Around the room were a pair of Stonewood guards at every doorway. The two at the main entrance saluted Rian as he made his way into the room. He saluted back and they went back to attention at ease. In the center of the room was a large table, with a large map of Skarith laid on the center. Surrounding the table were the other Maudras; Mera of the Spriton, Ethri of the Sifa, Seethi of the Dousan, Argot of the Groton, and Seladon II of the Vapra. Laesid stood at the table, Rian standing between her and Seladon.

"As we are all here," Maudra Laesid said. "Including the general, let us begin the proceedings."

"Agreed," Argot said. "That's two. One to call to order, one to second."

"Ugh," Seladon gave a small, barely audible groan with a tiny, visible eye roll. Maudra Argot was...eccentric, to say the least. She had been raised in a cave most of her life and only just surfaced to head the call for rebellion. She was still a little loopy and not entirely adjusted to the ways of the surface world gelfling. The other Maudras put up with her antics, but Seladon was on the other end of the spectrum. She tolerated the old Groton for the time being. Then again, the Vapran was the youngest Maudra in the room. Not the youngest in general mind you. That 'honor' befell Rian. He had seen less of the Three Brothers than even the guards in the room, yet he was the one tasked with leading the legions of gelfling in the coming battles. No pressure.

"First order of business," Maudra Laesid called. "Maudra Fara has fallen. A terrible tragedy, but her remains have been returned to Thra."

"Better than having her essence drained and used to fuel our enemy," Seladon muttered to Rian.

Rian showed no reaction as Maudra Laesid definitely heard the remark but had no reaction. Seladon had spoken the truth that no one needed to say.

"However," Maudra Laesid continued. "The traditional time of mourning is coming to an end, the urgent matter is pressing. Maudra Fara did not have an heir. As such, we are left with the responsibility of choosing the next Maudra for Stonewood."

"And how are we to do that?" Maudra Mera asked. "There has not been a need for the Maudra's to choose a new Maudra bloodline. Ever. Is there even a rite? A way to do such a thing?"

"There are tells in the Sifa Clan's spoken history of a way," Maudra Ethri poke up. "However it involves the participation of the skekSis."

Maudra Argot spat over her shoulder, the spittle landing on the floor near a guard's foot.

"I could ask the librarian of the Great Vapran Library," Seladon suggested. "Perhaps there is something in the records that doesn't involve...them."

"See to it," Laesid said.

Seladon called a guard and whispered orders into her ear as the next task was brought up.

"Now," Laesid continued. "The Arathim Ascendancy."

"They came to our aid when the skekSis attacked Stone-in-the-Wood," Argot spoke first before anyone else. "Their homes were originally the caves of Grot. And as we know peace is possible, the Groton can learn to live in peace with them. They must."

"The issue isn't where they can stay," Maudra Seethi said. "The issue is whether or not they can be trusted. They may be on our side now, but when the war is over, they will want their caves back once the darkening has been taken care of."

"The caves are vast," Argot exasperated. " They stretch and reach all under Thra. There's plenty of room."

"I believe the issue is whether or not we want to include them on the war council," Ethri said.

"I believe we should," Argot jutted in.

"And I do not," Seladon spoke up, voice brimming with her mother's commanding power. "Let us not forget that the ascendency once fought for the skekSis. However briefly, we can not forget that their allegiance lies with whoever can give them what they want."

"We've already discussed this," Argot snapped in a joking manner. "All the arathim want is their home. The Groton will coexist with them. Therefore they will fight with us."

"And let us not forget that they have been the skekSis' enemy far longer than us," Mera said.

"Against them, with them, and against them again," Seladon pointed out. "Ally as they may be now, do we really want an ally on the council that can turn sides so easily."

"I have to agree with Maudra Seladon on this," Ethri said. "The Ascendency needs one of our own to be a spokesperson for them. The melding of the two minds could have disastrous effects if they decide to turn. There is so much we don't know, we shouldn't risk it."

"Put it to a vote!" Argot shouted. "Both sides heard, but no decision made. Vote."

"Agreed," Laesid said. "All in favor of letting the Arathim Ascendency on this council, and promising them the coexistence in the caves of Grot, raise your hand."

Argot's hand snapped up, followed by Mera's and Laesid's.

"And opposed."

Seladon, Ethri and Seethi's hands rose.

A tie.

"Given it falls under military tactics, the decision falls to General Rian," Laesid called. The Maudra all turned to the Stonewood gelfling who had just been standing at the table and listening/watching. He blinked out of his daze and looked around to the six pairs of eyes watching him, waiting for his decision.

"Well," he started reasoning out loud, despite his nervousness. "Despite the spitters' long history of being our enemy, they have always been the skekSis' enemy, much longer than they have been ours. The knowledge they have of the catacombs under the castle could prove useful. If Maudra Argot is sure that the Groton would be happy to live with them-"

"They will," Argot snapped, with a slam of her stick. "So long as they don't force us all to wear their threaders."

"There is also the military advantage," Rian said, recalling all his father had taught him on military strategy. "We have the fronts of land and sky. With the arathim on our side, we also have the added attack from underneath."

The Maudra's just looked on, waiting.

"We should allow them onto the council," Rian said definitively, causing a groan from Seladon and a shaking of heads from Ethri and Seethi. Laesid and Mera nodded.

"Well," Argot said. "Since we are the ones who will have to live with them, the Groton will select one to speak on their behalf."

"It's decided," Laesid continued.

"I suppose you think you're the Al-Maudra with the way you just run and decide everything for us," Seladon spat to the Drenchen Maudra.

"Thank you for bringing up the next point Seladon," Laesid said with a small smirk. "The position of Al-Maudra is an old, skekSis position meant to separate gelfling and make us think there are gelfling clans more equal than others. As that is not the case, such a title should be eradicated."

"And replaced with what?" Seladon asked.

Maudra Laesid considered for a moment.

"This council should do fine," she said. "All equal with an equal playing field. None greater, none lesser."

"I must protest," Seladon said.

"So must I," Argot called, causing the Vapran to flash a surprised look across the table at the old Groton. "In war, we need a strong leader that all the forces can rally under. What are we to do if we cannot refill the seats on the council fast enough? Hmm?"

"If a leader is what you're after," Mera spoke up. "Perhaps Mother Aughra could fill the role as a figurehead."

"I mean no disrespect," Ethri softly added. "But Aughra serves Thra. She may be on our side now, but if Thra tells her otherwise she will easily become our enemy."

"That doesn't help Ethri," Seethi said. "I personally agree with Maudra Laesid on this. We need not one, but many leaders in this endeavor."

"A council made in war helps," Argot said. "But what about after? What about when the war is over?"

"The council will continue to reign," Laesid answered. "As I said. All equal. None lesser, none greater."

"A council made in war knows only war," Argot warned. "As such, a war council leads to more war. When there is no war, there will be infighting. When there is no enemy for the war council, an enemy will be found. And who will that be? Hm? The arathim? The Mystics? Another gelfling clan? The only way I see a council working, is if there are two separate councils; one for war, one for peace. But even then, what if the war council refuses to abdicate power to the peace council? Too many questions to answer, too little time. We need an Al-Maudra who holds executive power but receives counsel from the council."

Seladon looked to the old gelfling with a new found respect. Perhaps she had misjudged the Groton Maudra

"But that still has the problem of making one clan more equal than the others," Laesid said. "We need equality in these pressing times. Unity."

"Technically speaking," Maudra Ethri continued. "Seladon is still technically the current Al-Maudra."

"Not true!" Laesid shouted, banging her cane on the edge of the table. "I as well as Maudra Fara protested her coronation! As such, without the remaining two votes from Drenchen and Stonewood, you remain just a Maudra."

Seladon glared at Laesid, eyes squinting to the point they started to ooze with venom. The tension in the room could have been cut by a knife.

"I thought you had abdicated the clan alliance," the Vapran said, wings flicking out with her anger. "You and Fara. As such, I have all the votes I need to be Al-Maudra. And even if we weren't doing it that way, it would still be four to two. Majority wins."

Laesid's own wings flicked out with a contained, frustrated fury as the two faced each other.

"Seladon the second," the drenchen seethed. "I can see why your mother named you as such. You share similar beliefs to your grandmother. Your reign would work to erode all of our cultures until we are all Vapran."

"At least there would be one unified clan," Seladon hissed. "As opposed to this conglomerate of splinter cells that call themselves allies."

"May I suggest something, Maudras?" Rian asked, easing in between the two gelfling staring each other down. "I agree that the title of Al-Maudra is a very skekSis heavy term. But what if, instead of a bloodline for the Al-Maudra, it's an elected position?"

The two Maudra's continued to stare at each other for a little. Seladon raised her eyebrow, not wanting to be the one who broke first. Laesid realized they wouldn't get anywhere this way and looked to the general.

"What are you suggesting?" she asked.

"All clans answer to their respective Maudra," Rian tried explaining. "And all the Maudras in turn follow the Al-Maudra, who is separated from the clans. And when she dies, the council votes on the Maudra to take over after. The newly appointed Maudra then takes the position and their next in line takes their place as clan Maudra."

"If I'm hearing right," Argot said. "That would make eight Maudra's all together. Currently, we'd need to find two more candidates both Maudra and Al-Maudra."

"But it just might work," Ethri said. "One step at a time. Let's find a Maudra for Stone-in-the-Wood. Then we can vote on Al-Maudra."

"I think we should all reconvene after some time of sitting on this issue, as it appears to be a sensitive and important one," Seethi suggested. "And tensions are high."

"Fair enough," Seladon said, relaxing her wings and turning back to the table.

"Agreed," Laesid said. "Find the current replacement Maudra bloodline, and then all Maudra shall vote. On the subject."

"Hmm, fair," Argot humphed.

"Maudra Seladon!" the librarian called from down one of the hallways into the Maudra's palace. "You called for me?"

The guards at the door crossed their halberds and blocked the elder gelfling's path, scaring the Vapran a little.

"You may let him in," Laesid called.

The guards separated their halberds and the librarian eased through the archway.

"Librarian," Seladon said. "Is there a scripture in the Great Library that says on the issue of what is to happen when a Maudra dies with no heir?"

"I believe so," he said. "I have none of my scriptures here and would have to return to Ha'rar in order to search many tomes. I'll have to search far back into history and deep into the accounts of thousands of trine past. Oh! Hopefully the Pluff'm haven't eaten it."

"General," she said, turning to Rian. "See to it that the Librarian has an escort to leave as soon as possible. The sooner we figure out how to select a new Maudra, the sooner we can figure out this...Al-Maudra situation."

Seladon and Laesid glared at each other one last time.

Rian nodded and led the librarian from the room, glad to have escaped that table for however brief. Politics. He wasn't cut out for them.

~~~~~

"For the time being," Mera said. "I think we should follow through with Laesid's idea. A council. Equal and just."

"For the time being," Seladon leered.

"Yeah, fair enough," Argot concurred.

The other Maudra all agreed. Seladon just sneered.

"Next and most pressing matter," the Vapran said. "The shard."

A hush fell over the room at the mention of the broken off piece of The Crystal of Truth.

"My sister continues to guard it," Seladon continued, with the heightened arrogant air that a Vapran was guarding such an important object. "As Mother Aughra said, we must join it back with the rest of the crystal in order to end skekSis rule. We need to discuss the strategy for this task."

"Considering our general just walked out I feel we should wait on that subject," Seethi suggested.

"There is nothing else to discuss," Seladon said. "The issue with choosing a new Maudra and choosing a power structure cannot be completed until we know with absolute certainty that there isn't a way to do it in tradition. So there is only one task before us."

"Indeed," Argot continued. "However, I'm afraid the forces we have here won't be enough for us to hold a full scale assault against the skekSis. They may be fewer than us, but they have that accursed scientist who builds them Thra-knows-what kind of machines of war. We could easily all be walking into a trap if we are too hastey."

"Maudra Argot is right," Mera agreed. "We have no way of knowing what is happening in the Castle of The Crystal. We don't know exactly what we're up against."

"We'd need as many forces as possible," Seethi said.

"And if they are more powerful than we thought?" Seladon said. "Lest not also forget The Emperor holds control over the power of The Darkening. The extent of the power of that blight we don't know. We could all be walking all of our guard into a genocide. And who will protect us when they come to collect us for essence draining?"

"Not all our forces," Ethri clarified. "We are seven clans strong after all. Just enough from each to build a strong enough force."

"Agreed," Seethi said.

"Groton has no soldiers!" Argot spoke up. "We are farmers of the cave, very podling in our nature. We do not know how to fight like the well trained soldiers of your clans."

"Then you shall be trained," Seladon reasoned. "All your worthy and able bodied gelfling will be trained by the very best Stonewood warriors and Vapran paladins."

"Or Sifan archers," Ethri added.

"Aerial and mount combat can be taught by the Spriton," Mera added.

"The Dousan can teach healing if needed," Seethi jutted in.

"Guerilla tactics by the Drenchen," Laesid finished.

"Hmph," Argot nodded. "Very well. I'll need an escort back to the caves of Grot."

"The arathim can see to that," one of the guards said.

The Maudras all collectively spun to see one of the guards has a threader attached to her face, minds shared. At least they were keeping with the gelfling tradition of female leaders.

"Have you been listening in this whole time?" Seladon exasperated.

"As a member of this council," the Ascendency said. "Yes. We will also guard Stone-in-the-Wood while forces are gone."

"Well," Laesid said, turning back to the table. "That's that taken care of. The Crystal shal stay here under the protection of Brea of the Vapra, the remaining soldiers, and the arathim. All Maudras will return to their clans with a small outfit in order to rally troops to the cause. Return with as many able bodied fighters as you see fit. Remember the rest of us have our own forced we will be bringing. All not in the parties will stay in order to also train the Groton here in whichever field they wish."

"Agreed," all the Maudra's said together, Ascendency included.

"The matter of power will be discussed once we return," Laesid said. "Trouble yourselves with the issue no further."

"For Thra!" Seladon shouted.

"For Thra!"

Chapter Text

Brea stood on the tree limb, legs bent as she crouched on the wood. She adjusted her helmet and flicked her wings. She gripped the sword's hilt and prepared to spring at the first sign of motion. Her eyes were focused and her ears alert. All the senses in her body ready to jump at any moment's notice. She breathed slowly and calmly, waiting for the signal. The air swayed the tree she was perched atop of and she gripped the branch with her one free hand to prevent herself from falling. Her eyes flicked down and she saw the signal. Of course they would do that.

She dropped from the branch, falling straight down and drawing her sword at the same time she activated her wings and spun in an aileron roll. She swung her soft, faux training sword at the arathim soldier hiding in the leaves directly under her. She then flew through the forest ahead of her as the spider took pursuit. She knocked down dummies, and cut down sandbags. She knocked the arathim spitter from its perches in the canopy and dodged their spitting attacks. She narrowly avoided trees, threaded herself through the branches, and cut through the spitter's web. She was so close to the finish line and pushed herself straight for it. She was so close, she would do it this time. Then she felt a spat web catch her wing and gunk it up. She fell to the ground with a crash, adding to her collection of bruises and cuts. She groaned in pain as she picked herself up and looked at her opponent. She was already standing ready and spun into an attack before Brea could pick herself up. The Vapran princess barely had the time to raise her weapon and defend herself from the duel knife attack as the Stonewood warrior came at her. All Brea could do was parry in defense as the gelfling attacked her over and over and over again in an relentless barrage of attacks. She kept backing up until her back met the hard, smooth carapass of an arathim, arching up in a predatory stance and hissing.

"I get it!" she shouted. "I'm dead!"

The gelfling's knife stopped short of Brea's chest and she breathed a sigh of relief. The arathim lowered back down onto all of its legs and the Stonewood warrior eased out of her fight stance, pulling down her hood. The threader latched onto the side of her trainer's face and they placed the staff on her back.

"If we had been a skekSis you would be dead," they said through the gelfling.

"I know," she gasped, pulling the helmet off to breathe better. "I know."

Brea caught her breath as the spitter cleaned her wings of its webbing. It then walked back down the training route, collecting the silk it had spit and woven during the training.

"We still don't understand why you don't allow us to join you in with all of our knowledge," the Stonewood said. "It would make it easier for you."

"I appreciate the offer," she said through gasing breaths. "But I would just like to keep my mind separated please."

"We do not understand," the ascendency conduit said. "But we respect your decision."

"I really thought I had it back there," Brea said. "After that web."

"You forgot about your exposed back," they said, flipping the knives closed and returning them to her back. "Anytime you think you are out, you're not."

"I'll try to remember that this time," Brea said, standing up.

"You are going again?" they asked. "You've been at this for hours and need rest."

"I'm fine," Brea said. "I can't rest until I get this run right. If I'm to protect the Shard of Division-"

"You can't protect the shard if you are not at full strength," they said.

Brea just looked at them for a little bit, the Ascendency looking at her with confusion.

"You're doing it again," she said.

"Doing what?" they asked.

"Channeling her," she answered. "My sister."

"Would you like us to stop?" they asked.

Brea didn't need to answer. They knew what she would say. With a jolt of the gelfling's head, KaTavra's mannerisms disappeared from the proxy. Brea felt sad to see them go, but it was for the best. The sooner she could get over her sister's death, the better for her mind. It hurt, but it had to be done.

"We apologize," they said.

"It's alright," Brea shrugged. "It's a habit for you and a, I'm sure, annoying request from me."

"Not annoying," they said, shaking their head. "Just confusing, considering our understanding of death is much different from yours, or even the Dousan, considering all of our memories are saved in the hive-mind. When one of us dies, they don't really."

Brea nodded in forced understanding. The Ascendency was still a strange being to her and didn't really make sense.

"We could share a sample of what we mean," they offered, extending their host's arm to dreamfast with her.

Brea at first was put off by the offer, but her scholarly side was eager to understand what it was like to be one of the Ascendency.

"This won't have any lasting effects will it?" she asked.

"None that we know of," they said. "Perhaps a headache, but it's not like you're linking with us permanently if that's what you're worried about."

Brea had one moment more of hesitation before she dreamfasted with the Stonewood conduit. A flood of memories hit her all at once. Hundreds of voices chattering and talking to each other all at once. Sharing hundreds upon thousands of memories and dreams. One mind, many individuals. It became too much to handle and Brea broke off her dreamfast after only a few seconds. She fell to the ground clutching her head in a splitting headache.

"We're sorry," they said.

"Don't be," she said, waving away the apology.

"Your minds aren't able to handle the ascendancy without our assistance," they said. "We should have realized."

"It's alright," she said. "Really, it's fine."

Another twitch from her trainer and she looked at attention. So did the arathim that was busy collecting its webbing. They stood still for a second before returning to their more relaxed states.

"New orders," they said. "We are to stay here and guard our homebase or assist the Maudra Argot back to the caves of Grot and rescue any Groton we can for the resistance."

"And you?" Brea asked.

"We already told you," they responded.

"What about this individual?" she clarified.

"We will stay to help you complete your training," they answered.

Brea nodded, stretched her back and flapped her wings to ease them of the aches and pains. She then reached down to the pendant around her neck and started panicking. It wasn't there.

She looked around in the underbrush and shifted all around.

"You've lost it?" the ascendency asked.

"It couldn't have gone far," she said. "It has to be somewhere along the training path."

The ascendency seemed worried as well for a split second before calming down again. The spitter returned to them, having cleaned up its mess and presented the pendant to Brea. The chain was held in its mandibles, leaving the Shard of Division to swing precariously from the metal linkage. Brea snatched it up and strung it back around her neck.

"Thank you," she said.

The weight seemed to weigh down on her neck as if the entire Crystal of Truth hung from it. Rubbed her sore neck and rolled her shoulders to ease the tension.

"Are you ready for another go?" they asked.

Brea looked at the course she had designed, the arathim, which looked tired, and then the ascendency, who rarely showed emotion through their conduits, but this one, she looked worn out.

"I think I'll call it for today," she said, picking up her helmet and starting the march back to Stone-in-the-Wood.

"A wise decision," they replied, following her through the dense underbrush back to the encampment.

As they walked, Brea realized just how much time she had spent training herself. The Three Brothers were high in the sky, the eldest leading the way as they crossed the afternoon sky in their ceaseless march. Thrushpogs had yet to wake from their pods so it wasn't too late into the day. There weren't any gobbles in this section of the forest, so there was no need to watch footing. An ipsy crawled its way up a tree as a flock of vindles flew away to avoid its path. The arathim pounced on a gizzizzy for its meal. All of Thra hummed with life and it was beautifully majestic. Harmonizing, really.

Arriving back to camp, Brea knocked on a door and a guard slid open a viewport. He looked her up and down before nodding and opening the door for her and her training partners. Inside she saw soldiers being sorted into groups by Rian. The soldiers didn't seem to be separated by clan or rank or anything discernible. The general was probably doing his best to keep the outfits as evenly balanced as possible. To protect the Maudras as equally as possible on their journeys to rally troops.

"We won't be gone long," Seladon called to her.

Brea looked towards her sister, giving a little smile before she dismissed the Ascendency, who bowed in recognition. The sisters made their way together before meeting each other halfway, embracing as they met.

"How's the training coming along?" the eldest asked.

"Not too bad," she answered. "How's politics?"

"Political," she sighed. "Not much else to say in that department."

"How long will you be gone?" she asked.

"Depends," Seladon griefed. "We all are returning to our clans to rally more troops before planning an attack of our own, but I have the extra, added, bonus task of looking into past records to try and find a solution to our missing Stonewood Maudra."

"I could come with you," Brea suggested. "I do much better around books and scriptures than you do, you know that."

"You should really stay here and train," Seladon said.

"I can train on the road," Brea pressed.

"Really," Seladon pressed herself. "I'll have the librarian to deal with that."

"I could still come with you," Brea added. "Help him."

Seladon chuckled to herself.

"What?" Brea asked.

"Nothing," Seladon answered. "You're just becoming more and more like KaTavra, it's funny."

Brea's expression went cold.

"What?" Seladon asked, noticing her change in behavior.

"Please don't compare me to our late, deceased sister," Brea requested. "I'm not her."

"I know that," the Maudra said. "But you are taking on her more warrior-esque mannerisms. I can't help but notice."

"Still," Brea said. "Please don't."

The sisters each had their own ways of mourning. Brea's way was just trying to accept that KaTavra was gone. Seladon's way was seeing her in everything her youngest sister did.

"You'll be safe here," Seladon said, getting back to a previous topic. "We can't risk losing the shard and it'll be safer in your hands surrounded by Stonewood warriors and Arathim."

Brea huffed. She didn't want to leave her sister's side. She felt it her duty to also protect The Maudra, however the crystal was her first charge. And not only was Seladon her Maudra, she was also her older sister. Therefore double the authority. She had a point though. There were more defenses here than in a small party on the road. And if her training today had anything to say, she still needed to practice.

"We're heading out soon," Seladon concluded. "Why don't you ask the cooks if there's any food to scrounge up. You look famished."

At the mere mention of food, Bread stomach growled. She hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast that morning, and it was well before the suns rose in the sky.

"We'll be back in a few days," Seladon consoled. "I'll be as safe as can be."

"You better be," Brea laughed. "Or else, it'll get boring around here."

Seladon shared in the laugh with her own giggle.

"Maudra Seladon," General Rian called. "Your party is ready."

"Guess that's my cue," the Vapran said. "Goodbye sister. We'll see each other again very soon."

The two hugged, ending in Seladon breaking free from Brea first and turning towards her landstrider. She mounted the beast and with one final small smile and nod, spurred the creature forward towards Ha'rar, the soldiers following after as they proceeded under the constructed archway, under the skekSis' armor, to the other side of the wall. The gates closed and Brea watched them a few moments more before turning to the mess hall.

~~~~~

"For the last time!" Kylan called, to no one in particular. "Can we make sure to close the door to the food stores. I swear you all want to feed the fizzgigs more than your fellow gelfling."

"Kylan," Brea said.

The Spriton turned to her. That was his only reaction.

"Oh," he said, closing the door to the food. "Hello."

"Is everything all right?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sighed, bolting the door behind him. "It's just that I'm a songteller. Not a cook. And I'm expected to run a kitchen as a Spriton with some knowledge on the matter of making, at the very least, edible food."

"I'm sure it's only until we can get actual cooks here," she said.

"I hope so," he answered. "I am not cut out for this. Anyway, what can I help you with?"

"I was just wondering if I could grab something to eat," she said. "I haven't had anything since breakfast."

Kylan heaved a sigh and turned back to the door. He stared at it for a few moments before unbolting the lock and pulling the door back open with a heave. He descended into the depths of the dark mildewy cellar. Brea followed after him, a small smirk in the corner of her mouth. The situation seemed just the tiniest bit comedic and she couldn't resist.

"So that's how you're getting in!" Kylan exclaimed after lighting a lantern. The fizzgig that had been munching on a pile of fruit turned at the light and yelled in its growling hiss.

"Go on!" Kylan shouted, shooing the creature away. "Get out of here!"

The furball rolled off the box and across the floor, into a burrow it had dug. Kylan rushed after it and used his foot to collapse the small tunnel's entrance to the food stores. He then shifted a large crate across the floor in front of where the entrance used to be.

"He'll just burrow in again," Brea said.

"Yeah, but not that way," the Spriton groaned.

The gelfling took his lantern back into the deep recesses of the food stores.

"Ah, here we are," he said, prying the lid off. "Perfect for after a long day of training."

He turned back around with a small stack of black colored, what looked like biscuits, in his hand. Brea couldn't help but scoff a little, turning her eyes to the pile of fruit the fizzgig had been munching on.

"Look I know it's not the most appealing to look at," Kylan said. "Nor does it taste that good, but I'm trying to ration the food we have until we can get more. And do you really want to eat food that's been near a fizzgig's mouth?"

Brea sighed. He was right.

"Besides," he continued. "Despite its unassuming appearance, this is Spriton made bread. One bite is all it takes to get you through half a day of work."

The Vapran took one more look at the biscuits before taking them and biting into one. Kylan hadn't lied. The bread wasn't very appealing to the tastebuds. It was like eating a mouthful of mud with a little bit of sugar and salt added. But she swallowed it anyway, and her body immediately started to feel better. Her stomach stopped aching and her joints quit their aching. Her muscles relaxed and her bones felt stronger. She took another bite and chewed.

"See?" Kylan asked.

Brea nodded, still amazed at how good she felt. Then the ground began shifting. One of the walls moved, dirt falling away. Brea didn't notice, putting the rest of the Spriton bread back in the crate. She would only need one, she could tell. Save the rest for others. Kylan investigated the wall, holding up his lantern to get a better look. He waited, expecting the fizzgig to come tunneling back in. But then the earth started to rumble, like a stampede of landstriders were somehow trampling their way towards them through the dirt.

"Get down!" Kylane shouted, jumping towards Brea and pulling her down to the ground. Doing so he dropped his lantern, throwing them into pitch darkness as something massive tore its way over them. Brea and Kylan both yelled in shock as they were covered in dirt and the room was torn up and apart. The ground shook even more and whatever was in the room with them continued to tear it apart before slipping away like a massive worm.

"What was that!?" Brea asked. "A nurloc? How?"

"That sounded bigger than a nurloc," Kylan said, waiting until the sounds and ground vibrations had ceased before pulling them both up out of the mound of dirt they had been covered in. "Besides. We're too far from Grot."

The two stood and looked around.

"Then how do you explain that?" Brea asked.

There was a massive hole in one wall that seemed to match up with another on the opposite side. It was too wide for a nurloc to have made it, but they couldn't think of anything else that could have made it.

"We need to get to the surface," Kylan said, taking Brea's hand and running towards the cellar's entrance. They made it to the surface and looked around to see that there were multiple trenches formed in the ground of Stone-in-the-Wood, like newly formed veins. Everyone was running around panicking at the suddenness, fearing a skekSis attack.

There was a bellowing heard as the arathim screamed to get everyone's attention.

"Olyeka-Staba!" Maudra Argot exclaimed, one of two Maudra's yet to leave. "Stonewood warriors, your sanctuary tree is dying!"

Maudra Seethi of the Dousan looked at the Groton Maudra with concern.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"I heard them scream," Argot said weakly.

Chapter Text

skekGra mashed together the mix of urdrupe berries and other various plants, preparing the mixture to allow him and urGoh to see into the future once more. The skekSis ground away with the mortar and pestle as the urRu slept, snoring loudly.

"Could you be any louder!?" skekGra complained loudly, turning to his counterpart. "You could wake the dead with that snoring."

"Or summon old friends, yes?"

skekGra dropped his mortar in shock before turning to the voice.

"Took a while to find you skekGra," skekSo added. "Though, if we knew you had set up your home so close to gelfling, that would have narrowed down the search."

The two skekSis, joined also by skekZok, entered the Circle of the Suns. skekGra backed away, keeping his eyes on the three of his brethren. He could see into the future, but given he and the other skekSis along with the urRu were not inherently of Thra, he could not see anything of them no matter how hard he looked. He was never surprised, but now he was. This he did not foresee. For the first time in a long while, he was witnessing something he hadn't seen coming.

"MMMmmm," skekSil whined as the three Lords of The Crystal faced The Heretic. It had been many a trine since the four stood, very much like this, as one was banished from the order.

"My brethren!" skekGra tried to act friendly. "Long time no see. What brings you to our humble abode?"

"Our?" skekZok asked.

With surprising speed the urRu never showed before, urGoh swung his walking stick at skekZok's head, throwing the high priest off balance. skekSo had little reaction, as if he foresaw some other presence being in the space swinging his scepter to dislodge a post of urGoh's platform. The urRu went tumbling to the ground in a cloud of dust and wood splinters, groaning in pain which skekGra also felt, causing him to stumble to his knees.

"Enough of this," the emperor demanded as skekZok picked himself up. "You of all skekSis should know why we're here. Your handiwork is so easily recognizable. Or have you not heard the news?"

"News?" skekGra asked, rubbing his aching back. "What news do you speak of friends?"

"MMMmmm," skekSil whined again. "He continues to play dumb. With us. His 'friends'. What kind of friend lies to other friends, hmmm?"

"Maybe his head is fuzzy from consuming all these wretched fruits!" skekZok exclaimed, grabbing two clusters of urdrep berries and hurling them at The Heretic and his urRu counterpart, The Wanderer. skekGra raised his hand to block the plant buds from pelting his face.

"No," The Emperor growled as The Heretic picked himself up. "He knows, exactly, why we are here. He's trying to delay the inevitable."

"Truly," skekGra groaned as he stood. "I have...no idea what you mean. Am I not needed to help you quell the gelfling uprising? Do you not need The Conqueror once more?"

skekSo exchanged glances with skekZok and skekSil before all three looked back at the skekSis and began laughing at him.

"After you killed three of your brethren?!" skekSo demanded.

"Kill?" skekGra asked in bewilderment.

"skekVar, skekMal, and skekLach," The Chamberlain listed, walking around skekGra's left, observing his abode. "You killed them."

"I did no such thing," skekGra protested, slamming his staff on the stone floor. "I have been here in exile these past thousand trine, because of you."

"It was you who pushed The Archer to his death, subsequently ending skekMal's life," skekSo accused.

"No!" skekGra denied. "urVa jumped of his volition. Ending The Hunter's bloody hunt once and for all. I had nothing to do with that."

"MMMmmm," The Chamberlain whined behind him. "A likely story. But what of skekLach and skekVar, hmm? You have nothing to say in your defense for their deaths?"

skekGra turned to the skekSis behind him, eyes widening when he saw what The Chamberlain was holding between his thumb and index finger.

"Did you not think we wouldn't recognize your handiwork?" skekSil asked, venom oozing from his voice. He presented the miniature, puppetted Dual Glaive to the other skekSis. The suns' light glinted off the small blade, flashing them all with a blaze from each of the three brothers. The miniature looked exactly like its larger counterpart and skekGra knew, at this point, his fate was sealed. He turned to the other two skekSis, who stood staring at him, waiting for his defense.

"Who wielded it?" skeGra asked.

"A Stonewood warrior named Rain," skekSil answered. "You know him, yes? He has been here, no? You told him where to find Glaive, yes?"

"I didn't kill anyone!" skekGra snapped, turning back to the skekSis behind him. "I wielded no blade that cut down fellow skekSis. Ever!"

"MMMmmm," The Chamberlain mused. "An interesting point of view. However, the way I sees it; you created Glaive in first place. You gave to gelfling. And YOU told gelfling where and how to find, yes? So therefore, YOU are responsible for fellow skekSis death!"

"Emperor!" skekGra exasperated.

"SILENCE!!!" skekSo exclaimed, slamming his scepter on the stone, the small crystal starting to glow purple with the darkening. "I am no emperor to heretics or traitors! You have aided in the murder of skekLach. The murder of skekVar. And the murder of skekMal. High priest!"

"Yes my liege?" skekZok answered.

"What is the punishment for killing a fellow skekSis?" The Emperor asked.

"The punishment," the priest said, savoring his own words. "For such an egregious act of homicide against a fellow skekSis...is death."

skekGra tightened his grip on his staff.

"Then his punishment must be threefold the normal," skekSo growled. His scepter began glowing with the power of the Darkening and skekGra swung at the same time as urGoh. The Heretic struck skekSo back as The Wanderer tripped skekZok, clearing their path to freedom. The skekSis and urRu took their chance and made their escape. The urRu was faster than his skekSis counterpart.

"Where was this speed before?" skekGra demanded as they jumped, beginning their downward climb to the skekSis' carriage.

Halfway down, skekSo's head was seen to peer over the ledge. skekGra looked up in time to see a flash of purple lighting shoot its way down towards them. It struck them and they were shocked off the wall, falling down to the ground still far below. They landed in the sand with a sickening, yet soft and cracking thud.

~~~~~

skekSo, skekZok, and skekSil approached the two bodies and looked down on them. They looked dead, but they knew they weren't.

"What shall we do my liege?" skekZok asked.

The Emperor looked at the heretic and wanderer before turning to skekSil.

"What do you think Chamberlain?" he asked.

skekSil put a finger to the corner of his mouth in thought.

"Deserve death they do," the chamberlain said. "Deserve death three times over, yes?"

skekSo and skekZok nodded.

"So," skekSil said. "Destroy their home. Leave them to wander Crystal Desert. Three suns, three deaths."

The Emperor raised his eyebrows and The High Priest nodded.

"A fine idea, skekSil" skekSo said. "This is why you are by my side."

The Chamberlain gave a little smile.

"Leave them to their pitiful existence," skekSo said, looking down at the two bodies. "Let them wander together in their shared fate. But come. We must return to the castle. There are preparations to be made."

The three left the two unconscious bodies in the sand as they boarded their carriage and took off. As they sped off, skekSo leaned out of the window, looking back to the towering Circle of The Suns. He waved his staff in the air and hurled a bolt of darkening to the side of the rock. It crashed and a section of stone exploded. He watched the tower slowly lean one direction before crumbling down to the sands in a cloud of dust that billowed like a temporary sandstorm. He pulled his head inside and closed the windows before the sand blew past them.

"That's the traitor dealt with," skekZok said. "Now to focus on other matters."

Chapter Text

"These tendons are proving to be most unbearable to deal with," skekTek muttered to himself. "I don't remember this being so difficult before."

The skekSis ripped and tore through what remained of the gruenak carcass. Using his surgical equipment he expertly cut away skin and cleaved tendons from the bone, laying the tissue on a wheeled table to his side. He coughed andretched at some of the old black blood spraying him in the face. He took a rag from his clothes and wiped the grime away, careful not to damage the mechanisms of his bionic eye. All that remained of the specimen was bone, skin and organs. skekTek looked at all he had harvested. Five remaining tendons and about ninety or so strands of muscle. Not enough for another Garthim soldier.

"CURSES!" the skekSis shouted, dumping the remains down the crystal chamber shaft into the magma below. They were worthless anyway, and he had gotten what he needed. His frustrations turned to his lab, tilting over tables and tossing equipment about. The animals he had caged screamed and squeaked in a cacophony of fear and excitement. He continued his rampage, picking up a large apparatus, ready to smash it down on the essence draining chair.

"SKEKTEK!!!" a voice screamed, stopping the scientist in his tracks. "No..."

He looked over his shoulder at the softer, almost a whisper, negative command. Though quieter than the shout of his name, the voice sounded like it had been right in his ear. Half expecting to see a fellow skekSis, his heart fluttered a little in shock when he saw no one. He raised his one good eyebrow and looked around his entire lab, twisting and turning as he heard muttering. This was much too quiet for him to understand and sounded more distant than the first shout and whisper. But he was able to pinpoint a source for it. He approached a cage, the nebrie young cowering away to the back corner as he approached. The muttering and whispering increased tenfold, yet he was still unable to understand what was being said; like a madman muttering to himself. He crouched down to better enter the holding cell, sending the little critters to press into the stone even further. The skekSis found a crack in the back of the wall, pushing in closer to peer inside. With his mechanical eye, the darkness faded and he saw another eye staring straight back at him.

"SkekTek," some said behind him, the suddenness breaking his concentration and shocking him. It made him jump and bang the back of his head into the roof of the holding cell.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, looking out to see skekEkt looking at him with a confused stare.

"What are you doing down there?" they asked.

"Just eh..." skekTek trailed off, looking back to the crack in the wall, where the eye was no longer. That and the muttering had ceased.

"Checking the nebrie bedding," he lied as he pulled himself from the cage. "Making sure it's not dirty or infectious with diseases. Don't want to get sick when we eat them."

"Fair enough," skekEkt said, stepping back a little and visibly put off at the notion the creatures around them could carry diseases. They adjusted their clothing to better keep it away from the animals.

"What do you want?" the scientist asked, disgruntled about now having to clean up his lab while also dealing with The Ornamentalist. "Or better yet what caused you to be forced to wander into my place of work?"

He pushed the other skekSis out of his way, as they were standing on one of the gruenak tendons. Upon seeing this skekEkt held in a screech and retreated to the doorway of the lab.

"Grow a backbone will you?" skekTek jeered. "It has no ability to move on its own. Yet."

He turned back to picking up all the pieces of most importance, laying them on his table once he uprighted it again.

"I came to fetch you for the return of skekShod and skekUng to the castle," they said.

The scientist paused and turned to his fellow skekSis in alarm.

"skesUng?" he asked. "Here?"

"Soon," skekEkt answered. "So get ready and make yourself...erhm...at least somewhat...presentable. skekAyuk is preparing a great feast."

"Has the emperor arrived back yet?" he asked.

"No," they answered. "Though their return is as imminent as skekShod's and skekUng's."

They turned and left the Scientist alone in his lab. He looked back to the crack in the wall. The muttering didn't return and the space remained blank. The events from prior would need to be remembered.

~~~~~

"Welcome lords," skekOk greeted as the carriage opened up. Out stepped the two skekSis, skekShod and skekUng. The former looked like they had been asleep for the entire carriage ride and had snored so loudly that the latter was now very upset and frustrated at the entire trip. But, it should be said that skekUng was always in this manner and wasn't really known for showing or behaving in anything other than resentment.

"Where are all the gelfling?" skekShod asked.

"Have you been asleep this entire trine?!" skekUng growled loudly at the other skekSis. "Or did you just happen to not hear anything about the gelfling uprising?"

"That's what that was?" skekShod asked through a yawn. "I thought I had insulted them one too many times and that they had just kicked me out. Oh, by the way, the Spriton Clan needs to be punished for their-"

"Ahh!" skekUng lost his temper and backhanded the skekSis, sending him reeling back and falling against the carriage. His attacker pinned him to the vehicle and stared him down the snout, dead in the eyes.

"If you don't know anything about what is happening keep your damn mouth shut!" he yelled.

The staff came down on skekUng's shoulder, gripping it and slowly pulling him around towards the Emperor, who had just recently arrived back in his own carriage with skekZok and skekSil.

"Mmmm," the chamberlain whined.

"My liege," skekUng said. "My apologies."

He bowed and skekSo waited for him to stand back up before speaking.

"No," the emperor said. "It is I who must apologize for having you share a ride with such a pathetic waste of skekSis flesh."

He leered at skekShod when he said this.

"However we are short carriages at the moment," he continued. "Having lost them to gelfling attacks, I deemed it safer if you had some semblance of assistance if you were ambushed. Which you were not, further making his presence utterly useless."

The skekSis all had a good laugh at this. All except skekShod, who was still leaning against the carriage.

"skekNa is not with you?" skekSil asked.

"He wished to make the journey himself," skekUng said. "Perhaps he'll take care of the gelfling for us on his way here."

The emperor shuddered at this thought, skekNa's cruelty was unmatched, yet he smirked as it would make their conquest easier.

"Come," skekOk beckoned. "skekAyuk has prepared a mighty feast for your returns and arrivals."

"Yes!" skekSo exclaimed. "Let us feast in the banquet hall under one roof once more. There is much to catch up on.

~~~~~

The feast was indeed mighty and filling. Never before, since The Great Division had there been this many skekSis together under one roof. In one room anywhere even. Seeing everyone gathered like this, including the scientist, gave everyone hope that they could still win this war. That they were still stronger than the legion of gelfling who opposed them. skekSil enjoyed his own food while the other skekSis around him chatterred away.

"I am deeply sorry for the loss of skekLach," skekUng said to skekOk between two mouthfuls of food. "I know you and the collector were close friends and that her loss must have been devastating."

"Indeed it was," the scroll keeper responded. "It saddened me even greater when I had to write that in our records."

skekEkt and skekAyuk proceeded to confide with skekOk over the loss and skekUng turned back to the emperor.

"And skekVar," he added. "I was most disheartened to hear of his passing as well. Struck down by gelfling, he deserved a much more honorable death than that."

skekSil held in one of his usual whines.

"Yes," skekSo said before taking a drink from his chalice. "And skekMal. The renegades defile both of their names and legacy's by displaying their armor on their base."

"We must get it back!" skekUng exclaimed, slamming a fist onto the table, causing it to shudder. "For their honor, we must get back their pieces and preserve them here in the castle."

"skekSil couldn't agree more," the Chamberlain said.

"Then what are we waiting for?!" skekUng exclaimed even louder as he stood.

"No!" the emperor said, holding him back with his staff. "It's too dangerous."

skekUng looked at the emperor with a quizzical stare.

"I was a fool," skekSo said. "I acted rashly. Without thinking. I blame myself partly for skekLach, skekMal, and skekVar's deaths. I thought I was the only one the darkening had blessed with control over it. However this was not so. I unleashed it upon the gelfling at Stone-in-the-Wood."

"You were outnumbered," skekUng reasoned, sitting back down and laying a hand upon the emperor's seat arm. "Surrounded. Cornered. skekMal had just been killed. You had no other alternative."

"Mmmm," skekSil whined aggressively, causing the other skekSis to look in his direction and immediately pull away his hand at the venom in his eye. As if skekUng could see what he had done to the last person who dared to take his seat.

"That is true," skekSo continued, unaware of skekUng's and skekSil's brief malevolence to one another. "However, I was unaware of the gelfling sorcerous who also yielded power over The Darkening. She was the one who redirected the blight at skekLach, killing her where she stood."

skekOk let out a cry at the reminder.

"The reason I am worried about an attack on them is for that reason," the emperor said. "They have a sorceress in their midst. A powerful one at that. And they also have the Dual Glaive."

skekUng's eyes widened in fear.

"No," he protested.

"Yes," skekSo said. "I should have listened to your advice many a trine ago. Because it was skekGra who aided them in their recovery of the key to ending our reign."

"Fiend!" skekUng exclaimed, slamming another fist into the table out of frustration at the fact there was nothing he could do now.

"We have taken care of them though," skekZok said. "I apologize you were not there to witness their deaths, but we deemed it necessary to complete their execution sooner rather than later."

"Good," the skekSis stated. "So what do we do now-"

"Patience," skekSil interrupted. "We wait in patience, yes? Scientist has developed new soldier for us to use in fight against gelfling."

They all then turned to skekTek, who was too focused on gnawing at a bone to realize they were all looking at him. He glanced up and slowly looked around.

"Well?" skekUng asked.

"Um..." skekTek muttered, his brain taking a moment to catch up to the situation. "Yes! Yes. I have developed a new organism from the combined carcasses of gruenak and arathim. With the resiliency and defense of the arathim's carapace combined with the strength and robustness of the gruenak, I have created the Garthim. Obedient only to us and easy to control."

"Sounds like mindless husks," skekUng hissed. "Useless!"

"No!" skekTek exclaimed. "At this very moment we have six digging in the catacombs. Expanding the tunnel systems to hopefully give us a more advantageous angle on the gelfling."

"Only six!" skekUng yelled. "In an entire trine you've only created six?!"

"Well the process is a delicate one," the scientist defended. "I've had many duties to look after including harvesting gruenak ligaments and arathim exoskeleton for the garthim. I've also had to look after their proceedings in tunneling."

"How many more garathim can you muster with the tools and pieces provided to you?" skekSo asked.

"Eh..." the scientist hesitated.

"How many!" the emperor demanded.

"Um...one."

"One?" skekSo asked. "And yet we only have six. And your here gorging yourself when you have work to do!"

"I..."

"Begone!" the emperor yelled. "Return to your chambers and make my army!"

"Yes sire," skekTek whimpered, pulling himself off his chair and shuffling away to the lab.

"My lord," skekUng said, turning to skekSo. "It seems the scientist has much to worry about on his plate."

"Agreed," the emperor stated.

"Perhaps I could help alleviate some of his burden," skekUng suggested.

"Very well," skekSo answered. "See the scientist about taking control of the garthim."

"I shall hold a coronation for you as...Garthim Master," skekZok answered.

"I am honored," skekUng siad.

"I almost forgot!" skekSo said. "You have yet to have a taste of essence."

"Essence!" skekUng exclaimed. "I have heard of these regenerative properties of this mystical essence, but have yet to taste."

"Bring forth essence!" the emperor exclaimed.

Podlings hurried in with a cart filled with vials of glowing white, viscous liquid. They hurriedly brought a phial to each and every skekSis lord, who took them and downed the entire bottle in one gulp. skekUng took his and gave it a sniff before sipping his own. He became filled with energy and jubilation, joining in with the other skekSis in their uproarious banter.

"Essence!" skekUng yelled at the top of his lungs. The purifying liquid surged through his veins and he felt a hundred trine younger.

"Emperor," skekShod asked. "What of the scientist's dilemma? How will we gain more supplies for the garthim."

"skekNa the slaver has agreed to bring all gruenak with him," skekSil answered for the emperor. "No need to worry. Mmmm."

The roars echoed through the chamber and skekSil stored half of his vial in his robes for later. He was no fool to waste essence. He would add it to his private and hidden stores.

Chapter Text

Lore stood looking over the podling as he slept. They had been traveling for a long while and after a full day's worth of running through the desert, and climbing sheer rock faces, they had finally broken out of the sand and rock. They rested now, a bit into the Endless Forest, on the edge of it really. They still had a long, long way to travel before arriving at their destination of Stone-in-the-Wood. The stone golem wanted to keep going, but Hup had shown a lot of discomfort to being carried while trying to sleep and the idea was quickly scrapped. As of now, dawn was ready to break and the larger of the pair, who didn't need sleep, was waiting impatiently for his smaller companion to stir.

At that moment there was a creaking in the forest. The foundations shook in the earth and the trees groaned in a collective moan of agony. The sound and vibrations slowly stirred Hup from his sleep and he woke as the vibrations slowed. Lore looked around, focusing his gaze deeper into the forest. Something was happening. Something dark. And it was unsettling.

"Time?" Hup asked.

Lore used one of his arms to draw a rising sun in the dirt and Hup got the message. The podling's stomach growled as he sat up, prompting him to start a fire. He pulled out a pot from his pack and handed it to Lore.

"Water?" he asked.

The golem held the pan in his 'mouth' and made out for the nearest water source, which was a small river they needed to cross and then follow for a few miles. The animated statue dunked his head in the running flow of water and pulled it out. He carefully made his way back to Hup, who was busy trying to start a fire with some sticks he had found.

Hup took the pot and carefully placed the water next to him as he continued to fiddle with the sticks. Lore just watched on curiously as Hup twisted a smaller stick into a larger branch in a screwing motion until they started to smoke. The podling continued in his motions until there was a spark and a small fire started to burn in the divot he had created. He carefully laid small sticks and leaves on the small flame, careful not to extinguish it. The flames grew and soon enough the podling had a fire going and a stone was laid near the fire. He placed the pan on the rock and waited for the water to boil. Lore continued watching as the little creature made himself a morning stew.

Lore continued quizzically at the fact Hup hadn't entirely felt the shaking. And if he had, chalked it up to nothing but a dream. The podling finished his soup as the sun started to rise over the forest. He didn't seem in that much of a rush to get going as he sat back against a tree and pulled out a small journal and began writing. The paladin was...keeping a journal? That's what it looked like anyway. He continued writing and Lore just continued watching, waiting for his comrade to pack up his things and get moving again.

~~~~~

Hup closed his journal and slid it back in his pack. He reached for the pot, but found it was missing. Along with his spoon. He looked to Lore, who just stared blankly back at him, expressionless as, well, as a stone. Hup stood and snuffed out the fire with his boot, looking to see if the pot could have rolled away anywhere. Nothing. But he felt something. Like a tugging on his boot where he had snuffed out the fire. He looked down and saw a tendril of dark purple, like a crack in the earth, reaching up over his boot. Hup jumped away, kicking away his shoe as the darkening took hold of the sole engulfing it and turning it to dust. The tendril pulled away, back into the underbrush. Hup pulled his sword.

"Not sure what good that will do," came a voice in perfect podling language. "It's not exactly a physical enemy."

Hup looked up to see a creature perched in a crouching position on a branch over his head. They resembled a pluff'm, though their mouth was wider and they had two different sized eyes. One was considerably larger than the other and they were seemingly missing any ears. He had two horns however. One sprouting out over his brow and another sprouting from somewhere in his mane of dark brown fur. That was another thing; his wasn't green like a pluff'm. In fact, aside from the mane, he looked devoid of fur or feathers. And while a pluff'm would come to Hup's knee, this one was taller than he. And it was Hup who felt like a pluff'm with the creature's size. His legs and arms looked insectile. The knees and elbows looked like separate joints all on their own. The three toed feet were like a bird's, with two in the front and one behind, gripping the branch as a tail swayed behind him. Each hand had four digits including a thumb. The middle finger of his right hand looked double, if not triple the size of the one on his left. This elongated finger wrapped itself around the pot the Hup was missing, and the smaller, more evenly ratioed hand was holding Hup's spoon, and feeding the wide mouth.

"What are you doing?" Hup asked. "Who are you? And give me back my pot."

The creature looked at him and Hup looked back, forgetting his hand was still on the hilt of the sword skekGra had forged for him. The creature wrapped its tail around the branch it was perched on and lowered itself with its feet and free hand while it held Hup's spoon in its mouth and held the pot in his other hand.

"I am helping myself to the last bit of soup you were letting overcook and were about to throw away," the creature said. "If that is a problem-"

The creature handed the pot and spoon back to Hup, soup completely gone. Hup took them and made about packing, not turning his back to the creature, and Lore also watched. The creature walked up to Lore and ran his elongated finger through the engravings in the stone golem.

"skekSis," he said with a slight tone of disgust. "I recognize their work anywhere."

He turned to Hup, gesturing to his sword.

"And that I recognize anywhere as the handy work of skekGra," the creature continued. "With this evidence I am to believe that you are a skekSis soldier."

"I am no such thing!" Hup spat in response. "I fight the skekSis."

"Then why are you carrying a skekSis made sword, galivanting around on a skekSis made war machine?" the intruder asked.

"Gifts from skekSis friends," Hup answered.

"Aha!"

"But good skekSis," he clarified. "Not bad. Not like the Keepers of Crystal who want to drain Thra of its essence."

"So there are good skekSis and bad skekSis?" he asked. "Well that's new. And what do you know mother, I was right."

Hup just watched as the creature snapped its attention back to him after yelling to the forest briefly.

"I've been away too long," the creature said, a glint of anger in his two mis-sized eyes. "And there is much my mother and I need to discuss."

The creature looked at Lore, then to Hup before crouching down to the podlings level.

"I speak through you know to the Song of Thra," he continued. "Tell Mother Augra her son would like a word. If she asks where, tell her my cradle."

And with that, the creature jumped completely vertically into the canopy, lost to Hup's sight.

~~~~~

Mother Augra trod her way through the underbrush. As she walked a sudden dizziness came before her. The world spun and shook her to her core. She inhaled deeply through her nose as she tried to steady herself. The eye in her forehead became shaky and she lost sight of where she was supposed to be going. The song of Thra had changed. Drastically, suddenly, and violently. She gazed back the way she came, placing a hand upon her chest to steady her heart. There was only one individual that could upend the song like that and make it change its tune. One with power and skill equal and matched to her own.

"Raunip," she gasped.

She hastily made her way back the direction she came from. Thra was leading her somewhere new in the opposite direction. Normally, this would be an inconvenience to her. But this time, she pushed on, unheeded by all the walking.

Chapter Text

The tree was barren. Not a leaf left on its limbs. The massive roots had pulled themselves up and close to the twisted trunk, gnarled and curled like a spider's death pose. The bark had gone dark, peeling off the wood and falling around the base like shredded paper. The blossoms of the tree had rotted, leaving a putrid stench in the air. But what was more terrifying, was the dark purple energy that laced itself along the wood. No one dared step close and risk becoming contaminated. It stretched along the entire tree like webbing. It invaded every crack and crevice the tree had, pushing itself inside the tree.

"It's dead," Rian said in shock.

"Not yet," Maudra Argot responded. "She's still alive. But she is dying."

As if on cue the darkening surged, tearing the outer layers of the tree apart and sending the splinters flying in every direction. In the explosion there was what sounded like the entire forest screaming in agony as the core of the great tree was ravaged and desecrated by the darkening, reducing it to naught but dust. Olyeka-Staba, The Great Tree of the Endless Forest, Cradle Tree for Stonewood, was no more.

"Bad omen," Maudra Argot said. "Bad omen indeed."

"Omen?" Rian asked. "This is more than an omen. An omen would have warned us this was about to happen."

The Groton Maudra looked in Rian's direction with a graveness.

"Exactly," she said. "An omen of things to come."

"The forest is dying," Rian heard, murmuring through the crowd.

"We're doomed."

"Was this the work of the skekSis?"

"What now?"

The empty hollow now brimmed with darkening energy. It pooled and swirled in brilliant horror. It bubbled and spat like a cauldron ready to boil over.

"Back away!" Rian shouted. The other gelfling wasted no time in following his orders. All but Maudra Argot who stood in silent solace for the lost life. She wasn't really looking towards the darkening. She was looking beyond it. To the sky and horizon at the three setting suns. As they sank in the sky, twilight set in and the darkening's purple glow intensified. The Maudra watched as the last brother sank below the horizon, and further adding to the ominous setting, as soon as the light disappeared, a sudden wind swept up from the suns' direction and whipped through all of them. The pit of darkening continued to broil and Argot took a few steps forward. She knelt next to the pool and Rian watched as she used her walking stick to stir the contents.

"What are you doing?" Rian called.

"What does it look like?" Argot snapped back. "To keep a soup from boiling over you have to stir the pot or get a lid. Considering no one's doing the latter..."

Rian turned to the gelfling soldiers.

"Go look for something we can use to cover that," he ordered.

"Yes sir," they called back.

"The rest of you return to the safety of Stone-in-the-Wood."

The other gelfling wasted no time in doing so. Well all but one, who made about helping the soldiers in their task.

"Brea, return to the fort," Rian said.

"No," she said. "I am helping as a soldier of the Resistance."

"You're not a soldier," he said. "You're the Crystal Keeper. You need to stay in the safety of the fort for now."

"No," she repeated, following the rest of the soldiers into the forest. Rian chased after, catching her soldier and turning her to him. She looked at him with a shocked expression. He looked back calmly.

"You want to be one of the soldiers?" he asked, and not waiting for a response; "Then learn to follow orders. There are people at the fortress that need protecting."

She made to protest.

"Go," he said sternly. "Now."

Brea scoffed, turning away and continuing to follow the soldiers. Rian rolled his eyes at the continued princess-like behavior. Despite all the rigorous training she was demanding she undergo, she still had that arrogant heir about her where she thought she could do anything she wanted. It really bugged him. He met back with Maudra Argot, who was continuing to stir the darkening.

"Could the others be dying?" he asked.

"Everything's dying, Rian," Argot said. "I'm dying. You're dying. Thra too is dying. Slowly but surely."

She looked up to meet Rian's quizzical eye. Her large eyes reminded him of Deet's.

"But what happens when any being dies?" she asked. "The flesh, bone, and organs rot to sustain whatever new life is to come along. Thra will survive to sustain the next 'Thra'...whatever that may be."

The darkening was winding its way up the stick. Slowly but surely it would reach Maudra Argot's hands. Those soldiers better hurry with whatever they could find. The Maudra looked around, never ceasing in the stirring but she was clearly distracted by something. There was a slight breeze that passed through them before snapping in the exact opposite direction. Rian felt as if his soul were to be ripped from him. Like a massive hook had pierced into his chest, anchoring him to something unforeseen.

"The song changes," Maudra Argot muttered.

"What?" Rian asked.

"Nothing," she said, dismissing the thought that crossed her mind as she felt the same thing as Rian did.

The gelfling soldiers returned rolling a large boulder. It took them great effort to roll the stone up the hill, but in the end they were able to seal the hole in the ground. The darkening didn't seem able to eat its way through the unliving material, meaning it had been contained. For now.

The Maudra Argot cast her walking stick into the pit of broiling darkening before the stone was put in its permanent place. She settled back against a tree to steady herself, placing a hand on her heart and catching her breath.

"What is it Maudra Argot?" one of the soldiers asked.

The old gelfling looked to all of the soldiers before her. Such a mixed bag of all gelfling clans.

"I need to see something before I leave," she said, spinning around the tree and returning to the encampment.

~~~~~

"No," Argot muttered. "No, no, no, no, no. It...it can't be...not like this."

She swept aside everything on a patch of ground in her quarters in the Stonewood Palace. She swept the dirt to level it. She paid no attention to the aching bones that had come with her old age. She hastened in rummaging through her belongings, rustling through her bag and casting things from shelves. She gathered all she needed and began to draw in the dirt. In the trenches of the main spiraling web and the symbols she had drawn, she poured white sand from the Sifa beaches. She then proceeded to outline the entire space with seed pods from deep sea kelp, also a Sifa product.

"Maudra?" asked a concerned Groton gelfling stepping into the doorway.

"Don't break the circle!" she shouted as the floor erupted in a brilliant display of light. The gelfling took a half step back as the Maudra continued to conduct the ritual she had learned from Sifa traders when she was a child. She cast salt dust into the swirling spectacle of light. In ancient Sifa she shouted, "speak truth Thra". The lights gathered into a single drop of dew that fell on the spiral and changed the dirt's shape. Maudra Argot watched the dirt swirl with the liquid as it oozed and spread, absorbed into the dirt.

"Maudra Argot?" the gelfling asked again.

"Shhh," she hushed, waving a hand, eyes locked on the floor. The last of the water was absorbed by the dirt and the dew stopped moving. Argot laid a hand to her chest again and collapsed to her knees on the dirt.

"No," she gasped. "Not like this. Not like this."

"Maudra Argot," the gelfling said, throwing away all hesitation and rushing to her side. "Are you all right?"

"No," she gasped. "No I am not. Because there is nothing you or I can do. Nothing but to watch."

He held her up, keeping her from collapsing in her grief. Argot couldn't help but stare in absolute horror and disbelief. The symbol drawn for her by the Sifa ritual was one of the ancient Sifa symbols for death. More specifically, the kind of death associated with all gelfling. It was a symbol that only meant one thing: Armageddon.

Chapter Text

Mother Augra huffed her way up the hill. She had spent the past day and a half in a continuous walk through the forest. She was now coming up on the spot Thra was telling her to go. She came across a stretch of barren wasteland. A single strip of torn up dirt and stone. Augra took another huff of air and stepped onto the strip of waste. That had still not healed; a scar in Thra's mantle. She walked and walked and walked, the three suns burning down on her. She heaved her way along until she made it to the last challenge. She heaved her way up the embankment until she reached the top of the crater. A single tree with black, feathery leaves and orange polyhedral fruits stood in the center where the meteor had ground to a halt, and where she had found it. Before she formed it into him. She slid down the crater's side before standing on her two feet again. She huffed and puffed her way to the tree, landing her hand upon its bark before finally stopping to take a few heaving breaths. She spun to put her back on the black wood.

"So much walking," she heaved.

"Walking?" the voice asked from the tree. She didn't need to look to know who it was. He was perched in the top branches, back to her as he looked out over the crater to the west.

"You are Mother Augra," he sneered, picking a fruit from the tree. "And you can't handle a little walking?"

He hopped down and stepped around the tree to face her.

"Raunip," she said. "My son. It's been so long."

She made a motion to stand and move towards him. An embrace was in her intentions but the creature raised his longest finger, holding her at bay as he bit into the fruit. The purple juices oozed out and dripped down his chin.

"Save your breath, witch," he spat. "You are no more my mother than a toy maker is a parent to their creations."

Augra raised a hand to her chest.

"You know?"

"I've known my whole life," he said.

"Then you also know-"

"I'm technically eating myself?" he asked, taking another bite of the fruit. "Yes."

He walked around the tree as the suns slowly set.

"What was it I said?" he asked, watching the three brothers disappear one by one over the horizon. "Oh, yes. I remember. Don't trust them. They are not who they seem. Their intentions are ill willed. Meddlers and usurpers! Cast out by their own kind, exiled from their own world. And they would claim Thra as their own."

Augra closed her eyes.

"And what was it you said?" he asked.

She remained silent.

"What did you say!?" he shouted, suddenly in her ear, causing her to stumble and fall. He stood over her, his shadow cast over her as she lay before him. There was now a dark aura around him that she hadn't seen last time. The air around him was heavier than the stones beneath his feet.

"You...you know what I said," she stammered.

"But I want to hear you say it," he repeated.

"The uRSkeks are not of this planet," she answered. "Yes, they interested me. I wanted to get to know them. Learned what they knew of the cosmos."

He looked down on her as he took the third and final bite of the fruit, casting the stem aside.

"But it was your creation that warranted that curiosity," she said.

"Do not blame this on me!" he yelled, getting so close to her face that she could smell the otherworldly scent of the fruit on his breath. His voice seemed to echo through the sky as the last sun set and the darkness seemed to set in with a rumble. He backed off and walked around the tree again, placing a hand on the bark as he leaned against it to steady himself as he began to hack and cough uncontrollably. He couldn't stand to look at her mostly out of disgust, but also, Augra could feel, to keep himself from breaking. He was angry, and he had every right to be angry at her. But he was still a son to her, and they both felt that bond.

"Tell me," she ventured, standing back to her feet. "What has become of the Makraks?"

Raunip watched a great thunderstorm start to form over the mountain range to the east as it made its way towards the grasslands beyond Skarith's explored borders. He switched out his hand to lean on his elbow as he rubbed his head.

"Dead," he said plainly, rage suppressed to controllable levels that it was for the moment subsided. "Try as I could to help them set up a new life in the Field of Fire, the landscape was too harsh. Barely making it out alive, it had left me scarred and with burnt lungs."

Augra picked herself up and walked around to her son so they were face to face. He looked away, still frustrated, but she reached an old hand up to his face and turned it towards her. His eyes turned to look away, but he didn't move his face. The half of his face with the smaller eye looked melted. Twisted with healed and scarred over skin cracks. The normal curvature in his face had been twisted cruelly out of place. Their eyes met and he looked away immediately, another coughing fit pushing its way out of his lungs. She just watched sadly as her son doubled over, sounding like he was hacking up a lung. Raunip wiped his mouth before standing up to his full height again. He looked over his shoulder to his mother.

"How many more must die?" he asked. "How many more races must be wiped in the skekSis' campaign and genocide against Thra?"

"None!" Augra shouted. "No more must die. I won't let it happen."

Raunip turned his full body towards her and they stood face to face.

"None?" her son asked, raising his eyebrow. "What of the skeksis? How do you plan to stop them? If you don't kill them, their mere presence still poses a threat to Thra. Upsetting the balance. And how will the urRu respond to their other halves being imprisoned for the rest of their lives?"

"The urRu want peace," Augra said. "They want to rejoin with the skekSis and will see reason. Holding them will ensure they remain imprisoned until we can join them together again. I'll make sure of that."

"What about when they do join together?"

"The uRskekS were peaceful before the Great Division. They will be again."

"And how do you plan to join the dark half and light half together again?"

"The gelfling have the shard of the Crystal of Truth," Augra said.

Raunip's eyes immediately began calculating.

"Leave it to them!" Augra warned, taking a step forward and raising a cautious hand. "They have help from the Arathim Ascendency and the skekSis are locked in their castle for fear of their lives. They have killed two of the most deadly already."

Raunip stopped his calculations, eyes snapping to his mother.

"A small band of gelfling killed two skekSis?" he asked.

"The General was slain by Rian with the Dual-Glaive," she explained. "And Deet redirected the Darkening at The Collector."

"A gelfling that can control the Darkening?" Raunip asked. "She'll die."

Augra's eyes visibly saddened.

"Yes," she said. "Unfortunately unavoidable. An unkind fate. But a valuable asset for the gelfling."

"Who is the one with the shard?"

"Brea. She has been training hard for the moment that comes when the shard is to be reunited with the Crystal of Truth."

"Where are they located?"

"Stone-In-Wood-"

Raunip jumped into the tree and leapt high out of the crater without so much of a look back at his mother.

"Raunip!" she yelled after him. "Stop!"

She did her best to follow after him, but he was so spry. He landed on the rock and scrambled up and out before she reached the bottom of the upward climb.

"Don't behave too rash!" she continued yelling, gasping for breath as she clawed her way up. "The Song of Thra......is very...specific!"

He was lost over the edge.

"You aren't as attuned to hearing its music!" she yelled as she reached the top.

She pulled herself up and steadied on her walking stick, hunched over to catch her breath. When she straightened up to look for him, he was gone. She was left looking out over the landscape.

"Raunip please," she begged. But the feeble attempt was futile. She felt the song change once again.

Chapter Text

Maudra Argot had been in a fugue state since the previous night. The gelflings looking after her had been at her side all that time. The old Maudra was seated in a bed in the Stonewood palace. She was blankly staring at the ceiling, her wide eyes blindly looking through her daze. According to her aides, she had performed a ritual in a frenzied panic and froze in terror from what she saw. She was conscious enough to be hand fed soups, but there was nothing going on behind her eyes.

Rian looked to the floor where she had performed the magic. Everything had been swept up and cleaned, but there was a symbol that had been seared into the wooden floor. The black, charcoal was still smoking when the guards came in to see the commotion and was still warm to the touch. four triangles stacked in a pyramid to make one larger triangle. The inner triangle also had this same shape, and was enclosed by a circle. This pattern repeated three times, ending with a circle in the dead center, two lines crossing through it, seemingly getting longer and longer. Slowly. They looked a little longer than last night.

"Her condition has not improved," the Spriton gelfling said. "Niether has it gotten worse. She's just...stuck. In some sort of shock limbo."

"Does the symbol on the ground have anything to do with it?" Rian asked.

"Perhaps," she answered. "But no one here knows exactly what it means. All the Sifa have left."

"Let me know if her condition changes in any way," he said, before turning to leave.

"Yes sir," she said.

Rian walked through the near empty Stonewood Palace. The place had been full and bustling when the seven clans were all here before. But now there was a great less since the majority had left. He ran his hand along the smooth wood of the massive Hearth Tree that had been carved out to make the palace. So much work. The chopping, the chiseling, the smoothing, and the sanding. And the plant had still survived. Adjusting to the new curvatures and pathways, healing over to make way for them. All Hearth Trees did. This one being the oldest. They didn't really know how long they lived. All they knew was this had been the first, all others followed, and not one had died yet.

"Ow!" Rian exclaimed. He pulled his hand away as a sharp, acute pain dug into his skin. He looked closely and saw a single needle of wood stuck into his finger. He pulled it out with his teeth and spit it to the floor. He looked at the wall closely and saw a small deterioration in the wooden surface where he had gotten the splinter. No one had ever gotten a splinter before in a Hearth Tree. compared to everything else, he just added it to the list of new things in the world.

He continued walking. That splinter had actually hurt. It didn't draw blood, but it was annoying. He shook out his hand and sucked on the wound, making sure all of the wood was out. He looked up and stopped, facing into the general's quarters. He forgot about the pain in his finger and stepped into the room. He walked until he stood perfectly center in the room. Looking around he saw memories of his childhood. His family sat at the table eating. His father preparing for the day while holding off Rian's attempts to keep him from leaving. He and his father returning from a day of hunting. When the news came in that Rian had been accepted to the castle guard. When he left to live at the castle, his mom was proud yet worried.

He took the DualGlaive off his hip and sat down on his childhood bed with a heavy head. He sighed and swallowed a small lump that had been forming in his throat. He unsheathed the sword and held it up so he could look at it with the clean, reflective, almost mirror-like metal of the blade. He saw his reflection and hoped it would have been his father. It wasn't him. He looked across the room to a picture of his father on his mother's night table.

"I don't know if I can do this," Rian said. "I'm not the leader you were."

The picture remained silent.

He reached a hand up to trace the runes carved into the metal. He wished he could read the language, but it wasn't any gelfling language he had ever seen. Neither was it skekSis nor urRu. Maudra Argot had looked them over and tried her best to decipher them, but to no avail. She said it looked like a merging of urRu and skekSis text, but some stuff didn't add up. Like certain strokes and dots not where they should be. Plus a whole slew of other characters she had never seen.

"I'm alone," he whispered to himself. He rested the sword on his lap and hunched his back as he drifted off into a state of meditative napping. The silence around him settled in and he let his mind wander to silence. He lost track of time.

"That position can't be good for your back," someone said, stirring him from his trance. He opened his eyes and looked up slowly. He looked up to the gelfling standing before him. Her hair was like his, though done up in a long braid down her back. She had their father's nose and their mother's eyes. Whereas Rian shared a lot of their mother's traits, his sister had more of dad's.

"Mythra?" Rian asked, tossing the sword off his lap and onto the bed as he stood and pulled his younger sister into a massive brotherly hug. She hugged him back with the same amount of strength and force.

"I was wondering when you'd even have time to say hello," she jeered. "So I just decided to find you myself."

Rian pulled away from the hug and looked at her again. In all the comotion and turmoil from starting the resistance, he had completely neglected the rest of his family and wanted to make sure it was really her. Seeing that it was, he pulled her back in, and she hugged him back again.

"How are you?" he asked. "What have you been up to? How's mom?"

Her face faltered a little at the question about their mother.

"Want something to eat?" she asked, stepping away.

"I don't think the kitchens are open," Rian said.

"I know," she answered, kneeling down on the ground and fiddling with something under her childhood bed. "But I still keep my little cache here."

She jerked her arm and a hollow wooden sound signified that she had gotten what she was reaching for. She pulled out a small box and brought it to a small table, opening it to reveal soft cane nectar candies.

"Been a while since I had one of those," he said with a grin. He sat on the wooden stool at the wooden table and took a small handful of the taffies, popping one into his mouth and closing his eyes. The sweet, succulent, chewy candy melted in his mouth. The taste took him back to a simpler time, a time that made more sense than the present. He opened his eyes and looked at his sister, who was playing with one between her fingers rather than eating it.

"What's up?" he asked. "Something's on your mind."

"It's just been a surge," she said. "First we thought we had lost you to some mental disease. Then it turns out the skekSis were lying to us and you were telling the truth. And then the arathim, and the DualGlaive, and the Muadra's, then Seladon, and then we heard about dad..."

She trailed off at the mention of their father. They sat in silence together.

"He's really gone," she asked. "Isn't he?"

Rian didn't need to answer.

She gave a small, sad chuckle to herself before looking up and dropping the candy into her mouth, starting to chew.

"When did the world get so complicated?" she asked. "I know mother used to say, 'tomorrow is never guaranteed'. But now...to actually face that?"

She looked at him with earnest concern.

"It's scary."

"Used to say?" Rian asked. "What do you mean, mother used to say?"

Her eyes went wide, realizing what she had said.

"Mythra?" Rian asked, standing and walking around to her, kneeling down to meet his sister's eye line.

"You have enough on your plate as is," she said, looking away. "I don't want it to affect your judgment.

"If you don't tell me," he said. "I'm going to find out myself one way or another."

She collected herself and inhaled.

"When we got the news that dad was dead," she started slowly. "Something snapped in mom. She just completely shut down and kept silently to herself. Then, right before the skekSis and arathim attacked, she disappeared. No one knows where she disappeared to. And no one wanted to go looking for her given the circumstances."

Rian stood.

"It's been too long," she said, reaching out and grabbing his hand. "You don't have enough soldiers to send out on a search party and to defend the keep in case of an attack."

He looked down on her and resented the fact that she was right.

She let go of his hand and he sat back at the table. He laid his head in his hands again.

"Hey," she said. "Missing is better than dead."

"How so?" Rian asked. "It feels the same."

"There's hope they can be found again," she said. "Isn't that why you kept going out in your free time to find...whatever her name was?"

"Deet," he said.

"Yeah...Deet."

He looked up at her and smiled sadly. She was right. In times like these...wherever hope could be found, it had to be latched onto and never let go. In times like these, it was hard to come by.

Chapter Text

Hup sliced through the underbrush with his sword, making his way through the underbrush. He looked at the map in his free hand, holding it up to Lore, who looked down and hunched over to look it over. The stone golem stood up and pointed in the same direction. The little podling huffed and spat a curse at the lumbering hulk of a creature before continuing on. Lore had been refusing Hup a ride and didn't clear the way. It was proving to be rather frustrating for the little podling, whose arms were getting tired and he needed to sit down for an afternoon rest.

He made about clearing an area and collecting what dry pieces of wood he could find. He sat at the base of a tree while Lore went into a hibernation-like state, sitting as still as...well, a rock. Hup shook his head at the golem before starting to build his fire. He took a stone from his bag and ran his blade against it, both sharpening the blade and lighting the fire at the same time. It was looking like soup again for lunch. At least his spoon wasn't being left to waste.

He set the pot over the fire and started to boil some broth. He mixed the leftovers in with some new spices, herbs and fresh water from the creek he'd been following. Given how overgrown this section of forest was, the flowing stream of water was his only source of direction. He couldn't use the stars at night if he wanted to. Though time was of the essence, he refused to travel in the dark. The forest was no place for a podling to simply wander through at night. He could defend himself, but he was still small. A difficult to catch, yet tasty morsel for any large predators in the wood. And it was easier to see gobbler nests in the daylight, which was always a win.

Tasting the soup, he thought the concoction could do with a little more blue-fluxweed. He reached into his bag and looked around for the wrapped package of plants. Pulling it from his bag, he saw he was out, much to his sharing. He would have to go collect some from the nearby riverbed, which meant getting wet, wringing out the leaves, and letting them dry a little before tossing it into the stew. Wet blue-fluxweed tasted awful, no matter how you cooked it. No one really understood why it had to be dry, but it was a simple process to accommodate. Simple, yet it cut into the time he could use to eat and rest.

"Aup jip po la cambpa," he said to Lore, who swung his head over to look at him. The golem gave no indication that he understood Podling, but it looked like he understood the basics of what he was saying? He needed Lore to watch over the camp while he went off to look for the weed.

Hup stood and stretched, arching his back and rolling his shoulders. He walked down to the river bed, heaving a sigh before kicking off his boots and rolling up his pants. He dipped a toe in the water, which was cold to the touch. He reconsidered his options. Get wet and have good tasting soup, or stay dry and have subpar soup? He chose the first option.

He rolled his sleeves up before wading into the water. Keeping his eyes peeled for the slightest blue shimmer of the reflective film that gave the plant its name. They didn't grow in deep water, so he should be finding some in the shallows, yet they continued to elude him. He stood shuffling his feet around in the dirt and sand for a good amount of time. He was about ready to give up when he saw a shimmer. A faint sparkle from the leaf's protective film. He moved towards it but held off. The water was up to his knees and he didn't want to go any deeper. He steadied himself and stretched, reaching his arm out into the water.

It was still too far out, so he leaned a little too far. He didn't realize that there was a bit of a steep drop off from the embankment into the river. When he shifted his weight onto the one foot, the sands shifted enough that he fell into the deeper part of the river. He sputtered and gasped, flailing a little as the sudden rush of cold water ran over him. The suddenness of the fall freaked him out, but he stuck his head above the rushing water and realized it wasn't much deeper than where he was. He spat out a mouthful of water and growled in self-contempt. Looked down into the water and took a handful of the blue herb, grumbling to himself as he stood up and walked back to camp. Now he was soaking wet, cold, and hungry.

He took his cap off and threw it on the ground next to the fire. He sat on the ground and leaned back against a tree. He hung his cap on the boots near the heat of the flame so they would dry off faster, being the least soaked of his clothes. He moved to peel off his heavier, outer layers but realized he would need to set up a clothesline to dry them off. He did so anyway, still in his undergarments so he had some protection from the elements as he looked for some vines to string up over the fire. He didn't have to look far before he cut down some thin, yet strong fruit vines. He pulled it tight between two small trees, tying them off as firm as he could so it wouldn't sag from the weight of his clothes. He added more fuel to the fire to prevent it from burning out before ringing out his clothes and hanging the damp cloth over the heat.

Kneeling down to keep warm, he gave the soup a stir before taking it off the heat, bringing forward a flat rock and placing it in the coals. He tore the blue leaves off the aquatic fluxweed and carefully peeled the shimmering film off each large, wide, spiral shape before laying them on the rock to cook and dry them out. He was careful to turn them over at regular intervals to prevent them from burning. You were supposed to let them air dry, but he wanted to expedite the process. He waited until the leaves were flaking and very light to the touch before removing the rock from the fire, burning his fingertips from the heat now in the rock. Which he had forgotten would be an issue. He cried out a little in pain before wrapping them in the damp undershirt to soothe the pain.

"Ouch," someone said. "Looks painful."

Hup spun around to see a gelfling woman crouched on her legs, crumbling the herbs into the soup and finishing the concoction. She then took her own little spoon, which had been hanging from her belt and stirred the plant in before tasting. She nodded and took another spoonful.

"My compliments to the chef," she said with a smirk.

The gelfling went to take another, unsanitary spoonful from the pot, but Hup grabbed his own spoon and pointed the ladle at her. The sudden motion caused her to retreat into the forest a little, backing away from the pot in the manner a pet fizzgig might from an angry owner. She crawled on all fours and when she pulled back in surprise, her wings flared out to make herself look bigger. Despite this feral behavior and appearance, she still wore normal looking clothes, which made it easy for Hup to identify her as one of the Stonewood clan. Her outfit had been modified to make room for her more animalistic and wide movements. There were also plenty of mini pockets and loops added, each holding vials of ingredients and tools. Anything she didn't wear on her person, she probably kept in the small handbag strapped over her shoulder, which had also been modified to remain stationary to the waist of her pants. Despite her very wild look, the podling was surprised with how fluent her speech was.

Once she saw that it was a spoon pointed at her and not a sword, knife, or other weapon, she eased her wings back down and smirked a little. She reached down to her left leg, pulling off a small bottle and handing it to him.

"It works with friction burns," she said. "So maybe it will work for your hands."

Hup lowered the spoon ever so slightly and held out his hand. The gelfling placed the bottle in his hand and Hup carefully put down his impromptu weapon. He uncorked and sniffed the opening. It didn't smell off. He carefully tipped the bottle and dabbed a small bit of oil on his fingertips. Using his mouth, he then corked the bottle again and set it down next to him, keeping an eye on his guest the entire time. As he rubbed his fingers together, and the salve worked into his skin, the stinging pain of the burn slowly melted away.

"Now just let your hands air dry for a few moments and everything should be okay," the gelfling said, moving forward to take back her bottle. She slipped it back into the pocket on her leg. She continued to crawl around Hup's encampment, pulling up plant roots, which she either kept in her satchel or discarded based on smell. Once she was done circling, she came to sit on her haunches across the fire from Hup. She clasped her hands in front of her and breathed in.

"I think the soup needs to go back on the fire," she said.

Hup put the pot back on and stirred, keeping his eye on the strange individual who was now watching the dancing flames with inquisitive, childlike wonder. Despite how spry she was, her age was starting to show. Her hair was graying, with a few strands already as white as the clouds. It made her knotted, ratty hair look like snow wisps on a black rock. A few wrinkles on her face showed how much she squinted and smiled.

"So what are you doing this deep into my wood?" she asked, eyes peering at him over the lip of the pot and the rising heat of the small flame.

"Stone-In-Wood," Hup said simply.

"Oh?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "What purpose?"

"Resistance," he said. Again he only knew a few common-tongue words, and could only speak in broken sentences. He was also still weary of this individual and using as few words as possible.

She squinted at him with a confused look.

"Against skekSis," he added.

She looked down at the fire again, the flames dancing in the reflection of her eyes.

"That path will not end nicely," she said. Her eyes were fixed in the fire and she appeared to be staring through it, maybe even into it. There was something that Hup couldn't see.

"Though I see an end," she continued. "It is a long way off, and few will make it to the conclusion. A long play with few surviving characters comes to a tragic end."

Hup gave her a quizzical look.

"And that's just the second act," she said, looking up to him. "For a story such as this, the first act has been grossly misleading."

She scanned his eyes and saw the confusion, giving a small smirk and laughing to herself.

"One of the few gifts I have," she explained. "The Song of Thra is everywhere. It surrounds us, flows through us, entwines us...it just takes a skilled eye to read the small nuances."

Hup tasted the soup and nodded to himself. It was ready. He pulled a wooden bowl from his backpack and spooned some of the stew into the carved dish. Sitting cross legged with the soup in his lap, he ate. Still weary of the gelfling across from him. She took out her own spoon.

"May I?" she asked. "Those on the road should look out for each other."

Hup debated in his head, but eventually relented to the more honorable side of his personality. He nodded. She produced a large flask from her bag. She popped it open, downing the liquid stored inside before spooning the soup into it. She then stood to her full height and reached into her pocket, producing a glowing, green gem. Hup froze mid spoonful. She held the gem up to the light. It was at this point that Hup began to realize...Lore was missing.

"Sisters," she said.

He felt a sudden rip on the back of his head and dropped his soup as he pulled from the pain and reached behind his head to rub the sore. He spun to see another gelfling woman, a bit older than the other, clutching a handful of his hair, already working to braid it into a small rope. Behind her from the shadows stepped another, clutching a weaving of dried grasses in the shape of a doll. She was clearly the youngest.

"The doll is woven," the youngest said.

"Bound by the hair of the chosen," the oldest added.

"Bound to the coven," the middle finished.

Hup dove for his sword, as the witches started to wrap the doll in the rope of his hair. He grabbed the handle and stood, pointing the weapon in their direction. They looked at him with cruel grins. The podling had heard stories, folklore of three Stonewood gelfling witches that resided in the deep thickets of the forest. And now he was seeing the truth in the fantasy. Their matching amulets, which he should have seen on the middle child, all bore the symbol of The Hunter SkekMal. He looked over to his right and saw a heap of stones covered and hidden in moss and roots. He took a breath and composed himself, bracing before he charged into an attack.

"Sleep," the youngest said.

Hup immediately lost feeling starting in his feet that surged up through his legs as he stumbled and fell. The numbness swept through his abdomen and into his arms. He dropped his sword and his eyes fluttered shut as the magic took hold.

~~~~~

His eyes would open for a moment more, after he had been dragged to their abode. He looked around and saw he had been tied down to a bed, in a cage somewhere underground. Not the skekSis castle, but somewhere else. As his eyes adjusted, he saw an altar. On which were dolls like the one that had ensnared him. And above them fluttered a tapestry of the three sisters, strung to the walls and ceiling of wherever he was.

There was the sound of a door opening and he looked up to see one of the sisters coming down through a trapdoor; the eldest. She shuffled over to the altar and laid on the altar the doll bound in Hup's hair. He must have breathed too hard for she looked over her shoulder at him and turned to face his direction. She slowly waved a hand down through the air, and his eyelids fluttered shut again.

"Not quite yet," she said.

Chapter Text

The pluff'm made itself at home, diving into the piles and piles of books and documents. Worming its way into the layers of history, resurfacing with a document on feather cricket migratory and swarming behavior. He started making a meal out of one of the corners of the page, biting the paper and ripping a little bit away before munching away. The Librarian just shook his head a little before walking deeper into the piles and piles of tomes, books, scrolls, journals, and grimoires.

The Great Vapran Library was silent. No one had set foot in here since the rise of the resistance. It was still in disarray from when Brea summoned the symbol which nearly blew apart the entire base of the structure. The library was arranged with the newest additions sitting at the pinnacle of the cornucopia's spiral. The deeper you went, the older and more ancient the passages got. And the catacombs of the library were vast. Like sewers of writings, the pages filled not only the shelves, but you had to wade through pages up to your knees, sometimes your waist. The catacombs were a dumping ground of old knowledge, and rarely ventured by even the librarian. But he had a job to do, and as such, he would have to venture into the deep, dark of the passageways under the library.

He lit his lantern, hanging it on his walking staff which he set aside as he cleared an area of the floor. Shuffling papers aside and placing stacks of books away, he cleared a trapdoor. Carefully, he lowered himself into the hole onto the ladder. Balancing as best he could, he climbed down with one hand, while holding onto his walking staff with the other. He stepped down onto the floor and held the lantern close to himself. It was darker than a star and moonless night down here. The small candle in his lantern left him in a bubble of light that only revealed what was maybe two feet away from him. He took a few steps into the darkness, coming to his first shelf. He was looking for anything dating to the first Al-Maudra. Or anything before on how to elect a new Maudra bloodline for a clan, or what the steps were to elect an Al-Maudra if no consensus was reached. These entries dated back to Maudra Seladon I. He needed to go further back; many, many trines. Deeper into the catacombs. He looked to the left, to the right, and saw the dates got older to the left. He started walking in that direction.

He did his best to stay on top of the volumes and volumes of content as he trudged his way deeper into the catacombs, but the papers weren't neatly stacked and he would sink into the sea of paper. It was slippery too. The papers had very little friction and just slid all over each other. His walking staff kept him steady for the most part, but it was still an annoying and slightly precarious trek. He was doing his best not to damage any of the records, but the staff would still somehow stab through a few pages, which he would carefully pull off and put back into the endless sea of papers where he found them. He trudged until his legs were tired, and heavy as boulders.

He jammed his staff into the piles of paper, steadying it so the glow would continue to illuminate his field of vision as he looked at the shelves. Running his hands over the book spines and rolls of parchment, the gelfling thought about how it had been æotrines since anyone had been down here. He found a volume and pulled it out, causing a cascade of scrolls to roll down and knock him in the head. He stumbled back and lost his balance, landing with a thud on the hard paper stacks. As the rolling scrolls stopped falling from their place on the shelves, he heard a sound deeper in the catacombs. A low grumbling that echoed off the shelves while also getting absorbed by the endless papers in this literary dumping ground. It caused him to pause a moment and listen closely. The sound didn't return so he opened up the book and leafed through the old, worn, weathering pages. A couple crawlie larvae wormed their way out of the layers and fell into the sea of paper. He scanned the passages, running over the text.

Finding nothing, he set it down next to him. The dating was close to when the skekSis started imposing their rule, and when the Maudra/Al-Maudra hierarchy was first starting to be enacted. He ran his hand down the shelf further and pulled out a scroll, careful this time as not to cause another scripture avalanche. Another low groan sounded in the dark and low shuffling, as if there were a large beast moving through the paperstacks towards him. He kept still, his heart hammering inside his chest. The sound kept getting closer and closer until he saw two points looking at him, the lantern light reflected in the eyes. He stumbled to his feet and grabbed his staff, still clutching the scroll under his arm.

"Hold steady librarian," the gentle voice said.

The librarian stayed his ground as the points of light got closer, and he realized they were two smaller lanterns attached to the back of an urRu. The Librarian eased up at the appearance of the large yet harmless creature. The sluggishly moving mystic pushed his way through the sea of papers, shuffling and crumpling them as he went. The librarian simply watched as volumes of knowledge were misconstrued, redistributed, and ruined at the creature moving through them. The mystic came to a stop a few feet from the gelfling.

"I didn't expect to see a mystic in the depths of the Vapran Library," the librarian said.

"I am a being of Thra," the mystic said. "Is it not conceivable that I, urAc, scribe of the urRu, would eventually find myself at this grand institution of knowledge?"

A crescent moon shape sat on the top of his walking stick, which they put a hand on to steady themselves as two other hands came out from under his robes to hold the stick itself. They shifted their weight to rest on the staff.

"Your kind aren't known for wandering out of your valley," the librarian said.

"Certain circumstances arose that required one of us to set out from our home in search of answers," the mystic said in their low, slow, creeping voice. "I chose to volunteer."

"And what circumstances would these have been?"

"Recently," the mystic said, reaching up with their fourth, and only free hand, to take off their cap in reverence. "One of our own, urSen the Monk, disappeared in an explosion of essence, dying. We sought out answers and only found two others of our order, urMa the Peacemaker, and urVa the Archer, have also met similar fates. urVa disappeared while plunging to his death, and urMa crumpled to dust before joining the gelflings resistance. I was sent out to find out how. I decided to start here, in the Great Library of the Vapran. I arrived to find no one here looking after the records, and further that the records haven't been kept for a while. I took the liberty and dove deep into the annals of these catacombs and found nothing that would help me in my quest."

The librarian opened his mouth to speak, but the mystic spoke again.

"And now I find you here," he continued. "The keeper of the library. Perhaps you could assist me in filling in the lost span of time, whose volumes are now missing."

The librarian heaved a sigh and nodded. He then told the urRu of everything that had transpired. The rise of the resistance from Rian discovering the skekSis plot to drain the gelfling of essence for themselves. The lengths he went to for help. How the Vapran princess Brea also began to question the rule of skekSis law, which set forth its own chain of events. Then, of course, the involvement of the Arathim Ascendency and how they were able to hold off the skekSis attack on Stonewood, managing to kill the skekSis lords skekLach and skekVar in the process, with skekMal meeting his end when Aughra's essence rejuvenated her from within the Hunter.

The urRu bowed his head in a saddened state, replacing his cap and tying it to his head under his chin. They had sat in the dark for so long, one of the mystic's lanterns had burned out, and the Librarian's was significantly lighter as the fuel was now significantly lower.

"That would explain it," the urRu said, picking himself up again with the aid of his walking staff.

"What?" the librarian asked.

"Nothing that should concern you," the urRu said. "What will be, will be. I have my answer. Farewell to you, Librarian."

The urRu pushed his way through the sea of books, papers, and parchment on his way out.

"May I ask you for your help?" the Librarian asked.

The mystic paused before bending his long neck to look towards the gelfling behind him.

"You may," they said. "I'm not in a rush to get anywhere hastily."

"I'm looking for gelfling law," he said. "Old laws from before the skekSis took control. We need guidance with some issues. Did you see anything of the sort deeper in the catacombs?"

The scribe closed his eyes tightly and thought for a long while. So long that the librarian's own lantern flickered out. They were now alone in the orb of light emitted from the urRu's remaining lantern. urAc opened his eyes again and shook his head.

"Gelfling had no recorded past before skekSis," the mystic said.

The mystic turned to continue on his way out.

"Not to say that gelfling had no history before skekSis rule," he added. "But nothing was written about until the skekSis arrived. What is it exactly you are looking for?"

"Trying to figure out leadership in this time of...upheaval," the librarian said. "It was believed there might be something in the catacombs that would help us."

"Perhaps it's time for a new way of life," the mystic said. "A new order."

The urRu climbed out of the library catacombs first and the librarian followed after him. He closed the hatch behind him and turned to see Seladon seated at the table in the center of the library. She looked like Brea, flipping through a book at the desk. Though it looked more like a way to kill time rather than with whimsical wonder like her younger sister.

"I will be off," the urRu said. "I must bring what I have learned to my order. Fare thee well...gelfling."

Seladon looked over at the scribe's voice, a look of disdain slowly melting into her face.

"Maudra," the librarian said. "Is everything going to plan?"

"What was that doing here?" she asked, pointing to the leaving mystic.

"He was using the library for its intended purpose," he said.

The Maudra clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, still looking at the urRu with slight disgust.

"Maudra?"

"Perhaps you aren't aware of the current state of affairs?" she spat. "We are at war and you're trifling away with one of his kind?"

"We share a common fondness for literature and knowledge," the librarian said.

An eye roll from the Muadra told him she cared not for their musings.

"His kind sit around all trine long musing over questions and answers they are too lazy to act upon," she accused.

The mystic showed no indication of whether he heard her or not. He also had no reaction to show if he cared to protest, or even if he cared.

"They would sooner sit and watch us all get drained than to do anything to help us," Seladon continued with venom. "So if you wouldn't mind focusing on helping your own kind to avoid annihilation rather than conversing with a being who could offer assistance and aid, but instead spends all day sipping tea and writing incomprehensible songs that no one will ever hear."

Her words stung like a slap in the face and disheartened the academic. He much preferred Brea in the library than Seladon II.

"Yes your majesty," he said defeated.

"So," she asked. "Earn anything?"

"Nothing from written texts," he said. "Our way of governing seems to have been solely dependent on skekSis interference."

The Muadra didn't look at all surprised. Nor worried in the slightest. She returned to flipping through the book on the table.

"Suppose there was something," she said. "Do you think the other Maudra's would concede to the written doctrine?"

"Perhaps," the Librarian said. "That is what they are liable to do considering that is what they said."

Seladon nodded. She flipped a few more pages, not really reading, before sighing and looking up to the skylight at the tip-top of the library's cornucopia shape.

"A new age is dawning," she said, coming to rest her head on her hand. "Now is the Age of Resistance. War is in our doorway, forcing itself inside our homes with every passing moment. We need change. Now is a time where we need strength above all else. Strength to do what is necessary to ensure our future. And the future for all of Thra."

There was a silence that settled in which left the librarian...uneasy.

Seladon closed her book, tossing it into the pile around the desk. She grabbed piles of paper, an inkwell, and a pen, setting them on the clear section of the table where the book used to be. She then loudly cleared the entire desk, swiping off all the papers to the floor. The Librarian's pluff'm squealed in shock as an avalanche of documents buried them.

"My Maudra..." the librarian wanted to call out the Maudra for her reckless behavior, but there was a fury in her actions that scared him. She used the tip of the pen to break the dried surface of the ink and mix it back in with the remaining well of liquid. Placing a sheet of paper on the desk she turned back to the librarian.

"You and I are going to rewrite history," she said. "Come. Have a seat."

She held the pen out to him.

"Maudra Seladon this is corruption most-"

"Are you ready to change the course of history?" she asked. "Or are you going to stand on the sidelines?"

"You mean to deceive the other Maudra's and your entire people simply to place yourself at the head of power," he said.

"The other Maudra are weak," she said. "They place their fate in the hands of a rookie general haunted by his father's legacy. All because he has the favor of some ancient hag that only does as Thra asks. My sister, bless her naivety, has the task of reuniting the shard with the Crystal of Truth. I don't doubt her tenacity, bravery, or her mental fortitude. But we are all treating the reuniting of the shard as the end all solution."

"Do you not believe that reuniting the shard will end skekSis power?"

"I think we need to be practical," she said. "Put our fate into our own hands. Not in fairytales woven by a witch who inputs and withdraws herself whenever it's most convenient for her."

"Mother Aughra-"

"Mother Aughra abandoned us!" Seladon exclaimed. "She swept in to take the glory of killing skekMal and saving us that one time, then walked off as if there wasn't an army of gelfling resistance fighters looking to her for guidance. She left us."

The pluff'm popped its head out, finally having eaten its way to the surface of the mound of paper. Another silence echoed through the round, spiraling room.

"You know how best to structure the documents to make it look official," she said. "Either you do this, or I'll see to it that all of Thra is reminded of what you did to land this position."

The librarian's heart leapt. Surely she wouldn't-

"I will," she threatened further, as if she could hear his thoughts. "And I do mean all of Thra."

The librarian weighed his options. Begrudgingly, he reached forward and took the pen. He slowly sat at the table and breathed. He couldn't believe he would defile the sacred act of keeping records like this. But he had no other option. He did, but he preferred this one. Which had the highest likelihood of keeping him alive the longest. He falsified the date on the top of the page.

"We'd need to age the paper," he said in a last ditch effort.

"That's easy," the Maudra said. "Let your familiar eat away at it a bit and add some stains. Good as old."

The Librarian took a breath, dipping the pen into the ink.

"On the issue of replacing Maudra's," she dictated.

Chapter Text

The deck of The Morning Moon rose and fell with the waves as the Sifan junk ship rolled over the water. Their sails were full and the masts creaked satisfyingly from the strain of the wind pushing them along. They had been at sea for weeks, spreading word to the rest of their clan. Most had no idea a resistance had even formed, some even doubted the entire notion of a skekSis threat. However, a simple dreamfast would help make the stories believable enough to stoke action.

Maudra Ethri had called a meeting of all Sifa Elders, set to transpire at the Sifa Coast under the shade of the Great Omerya Tree. It had been a long time since Onica had laid eyes on the tree. Many trines, actually. A lover from the past, who was now gone. Killed in the Battle for Stone-in-Wood. They used to meet under the tree when she was on momentary shoreleave. The memories she had with that place were now bittersweet. She wasn't exactly sure how they would resurface themselves. Whether she would find them pleasant or depressing.

"Hello."

Her thought process was immediately interrupted by the ward she was now left to watch after. The Elder Cadia stood next to her side at the railing of the ship. His eyes stared blankly out to the horizon where light, sky blue met darker, aquamarine blue. His memory was making a comeback, enough that he could formulate sentences.

"We arrive today," he said, just as blankly as his stare which now looked to her. "Umm...where...are we arriving...to?"

"Cera-Na," she answered. "The home of the Sifa Clan, to welcome the return of Omerya-Staba."

"Ahh," he said, nodding and looking back to the horizon. He looked down at his chest, pulling up one of the many medallions he wore around his neck. A rectangular pendant that was strung up with blue seaglass and orange shell beads. The image of a large dual-trunked tree was cut from the small metal plate. As he held it up to the sun and let the light shined through it, a look of familiarity came through his face.

"Home," he said somberly.

Onica smirked. Another memory slipping back in. Hopefully he wouldn't remember too much. She rather liked her place of power, acting in Cadia's stead. Though she was seen as a simple figurehead, she knew the truth. There were moments when one could see moments of lucidity in the Elder's eyes, his years of wisdom breaking through, but in the end, she was the one still in charge.

"Come," she said. "We must prepare for arrival."

"Home," Cadia repeated, holding the pendant down, but still looking at it.

"Yes," she said, turning her gaze to the bow of the junk. "Home."

"Sifa travel," he said, formulating the phrase in his head. "They travel the vast seas for their own reasons. No matter what, we are simply drawn to the seas. The horizon calls to us, the waves beckon, the wind whispers. The stars are our guides and the sails rally to our call, taking us to the farthest reaches of the map and beyond its edges. But no matter how far we roam, we always remember the home tree. And know exactly how to get back."

Onica smiled with his sentiment, taking his arm and pulling him gently away from the edge, back to the captain's quarters in the boat's hull.

~~~~~

Onica had ordered the ship to fly the Sifa Clan flag from the main mast and had banners tied to flap in the wind off the side of the ship. Everytime a Sifa ship sailed back home, it was considered a celebration. Banners and flags were just the start. Fireworks and colored smoke signaling would follow. A grand feast would be prepared and anyone else at home would partake in the festivities. The skekSis were locked away in their castle, afraid for their lives, so there was no need to drop this tradition. The Great Tree would see the most amount of activity it had ever seen in many trines. There would be much to do in preparation for the arrival of the Maudra herself, no less. The Maudra and all the Elders under the tree at the same time. A true time and need to celebrate.

"Where are my sandals?" Cadia asked, stepping from behind the dressing screen. He had dressed in elaborate, purple robes. He still wore all his necklaces, rings, bracelets, and earrings, which clinked and jingled with every movement he made. The robes were hemmed with blue and silver lined trim. Polished Sifa made, sea glass jewels adorned the entirety of the cloth. He had brushed his hair to sit neater under his cap. His eyes darted around the entire cabin as he looked for the footwear.

His keeper didn't need to turn from her mirror to see that he had them still on his feet.

"You're wearing them," she said calmly.

He looked down.

"Oh," he said. "Thank you for your assistance."

He sat down on his bed on his side of the cabin, pulling a tray from under his bed to lay it on his lap. From his hip, he pulled a sack of fish bones and shells. He untied the bag and cast them all onto the tray.

Onica turned back to the mirror and put in an earring. The dark, ornate metal held a small crustaceans carapace. It had a matching earring that hung from her other ear. She wore a deep, lobster red dress decorated with pearls and polished coral pieces that were a visage of the stars in the night sky. Unlike her other Sifan clothes, the dress' fabric was Vapran. A gift to her from a more peaceful time, when the world made sense. She had stitched it together herself on a shore leave many years ago. Her boots were made from pieces of stitched Round Bob leather. Not easy to come by, given the creature's voracious nature. These boots were especially special given she had hunted down each and every creature the leather came from. Not alone, of course. Another had assisted her. In fact the more she thought about it, the more she realized her entire outfit was in memoriam. She hadn't meant to, but it had happened completely unconsciously.

She set the mirror down and just stared at a blank space on the floor. She reached to her wrist and felt the cuff under the dress' sleeve. The intricate carvings of swirls meant to portray air on one side and water on the other. In the center, where the wind and waves met, sat three, large pieces of polished turquoise. The brass and copper mix of metal had a blue-green rust that added to its character. There was only one other, completely identical to this one. And it was now buried in Thra, under soil with its owner. Since then, Onica had felt like half of her former self. Like half of her own being had died and been returned to Thra. She had wanted to take the twin cuff as a remembrance, but thought it better to leave it with her.

She reached up and wiped away a single tear that was leaking out of her eye and down her face. She wasn't going to change, as that she felt would be a dishonor to her name. She would honor KaTavra to the best of her ability.

"Elder Cadia!" a gelfling called, rushing into the room. "We have a situation."

The older Sifa was sitting on his bed. The tray was in his lap, the bones and shells tossed and sprawled out. He, himself, was fast asleep, still sitting up with his head hung down and eyes shut as he sat snoring. Even as the boat swayed to and fro, he was adjusting to the movement. A trick most Sifa develop from living on the seas all of, if not most of their lives.

"What is it sailor?" Onica asked.

The gelfling looked to Cadia, still asleep, before looking to Onica. He was hesitant to tell her instead of the Elder, but the circumstances were too great to wait for him to wake up.

"We have something troubling," they said to her.

"Show me," she said, standing and walking after the sailor to the deck.

"What is our current position?" she asked.

"We're still a good way out from making port off the Sifa Coast," they answered. "But there has been a certain development that we think needs to be seen to."

On deck there was a heavy fog that surrounded the junk. The sea had become unnaturally calm and gray, like the sky and air around them. She could see the ship in its entirety and a few feet over the water in any direction. They were sailing somewhat blind.

"The air feels off," she said.

"For good reason," the gelfling said. "We're still in the tailwind, but the tides have shifted. We are with the air currents, but against the water itself."

"The waters around the Sifa Coast are predictable," Onica chastised. "We must have fallen from them. Drop anchor and wait for the sky to clear. Then adjust course according to the stars."

She turned to return below deck. She shouldn't leave the Elder alone for so long.

"That's not all," the gelfling added. "This fog came in in an instant. There was no way we could have foreseen it coming. One moment it was a clear dusk. The next, we were surrounded in this unnatural blanket of mist. Then the tides suddenly turned and the wind died down. And then there's the debris."

This stopped Onica in her tracks.

"Debris?" she asked.

"Over the side, madame."

Onica walked to the rail of the junk and looked over it. Floating in the water, with the currents that were acting against them, were pieces of ship. Wood and sails floated through the water. Planks nailed to pieces of blown apart support structures floated like rafts. Masts looked like trees with the water soaked sails wrapped around like leaves. And Sifa Clan flags and banners the fallen flowers.

"Stay on the current course," she said. "Slowly and carefully."

The gelfling nodded and went to the helm with his orders. Onica walked to the bow of the ship and watched ahead of them. She was weary of the sea now. Something was destroying Sifa ships. And they were good sailors, so it was highly unlikely they could have been dashed on rocks, or taken down by a storm. No, something sinister was at play here. The fog, the sudden, strange shifts in wind and tide. Nothing seemed right.

Then she saw the bodies.

Sifa clan gelfling floated in the water every which way. Face up, face down, on their side, wrapped in sails, half on floating pieces of wood. The horrifying sight caused Onica to raise and hand to her mouth in abject horror. But she didn't scream. She didn't let out a sound. She remained silent and raised her eyes to watch in front of their ship. She did her best to ignore the dead, for the sake of the crew.

Ding!!!

The bell in the lookout atop the tallest sail rang out only once. Then the body fell to the deck with a sickening thud. This caused the entire crew to become increasingly agitated. Panic started to set in. And Onica took control.

"Away from the body," she ordered. "Get a medic."

She rushed to the Sifa's side. A single arrow had pierced his shoulder. The fall had done the most damage. His chest was misshapen and he couldn't move. She saw in his eyes that he wanted to, but he just couldn't. His neck had broken, severing his spinal cord. If he survived, he'd never walk again. She further inspected the arrow. The fletching was unmistakable; four seabird feathers arranged for maximum accuracy. The point had pierced through the back of his shoulder and broken off on impact with the deck. She picked it up and looked at the intricate carvings in the wood and ornate, sharpened, triple edged arrowhead. A Sifa arrow.

The medic rushed over and assessed the situation.

"And so close to the coast," he said with dismay.

"Can you help him?" she asked.

He looked at her with his answer.

"I'll do my best," he said.

Onica stood and looked at the arrowhead. Sifa didn't fire upon Sifa, this made no sense. And they were the only race that actually sailed the seas.

"Hard to port!" she shouted.

No one moved. She spun to the rest of the crew.

"Do it!" she ordered more sternly.

The gelfling rushed to adjust the sails and the helmsman adjusted course. Onica moved up to the helm, tossing the arrowhead over the side.

"Someone is in the fog," she told the helmsman. "Get us out of it as quickly as possible."

"I'm still at the whims of the wind and tide," he said.

Onica's mouth tightened into a frown.

"Do your best," she said. "Until we are clear of this phenomena, keep us quiet and slow."

'Quiet and slow' was the phrase passing around the ship for hours as The Morning Moon traversed the supernatural gray veil. Occasionally there was the sudden, jarring thunk of debris hitting the boat, and maybe at some points it was a body, but no one wanted to think that. The silence was overwhelming and Onica just wanted something to happen, someone to say something to break the endless, silent, mind numbing cacophony. But she didn't know what was happening, and was heiring on the side of extreme caution. It was a massive relief and everyone felt like they could breathe again when they broke free of the unnatural cloud and into sunlight again. Almost immediately the wind came back and the water began to rush under them again.

To their starboard they could see the Sifa Coast in the distance. The port was a glacial field of ice sheets that was flowing in from the northern poles. She felt lucky to have just barely missed it. Though it was still too close for comfort.

"What is going on?" a gelfling asked.

"I don't know," she said. "But now we can see. So let's go through what we know."

"What we know is that Sifan ships are being destroyed and gelfling are being killed," someone shouted.

Onica opened her mouth to respond, but saw something behind the boat's stern. From the cloud of fog and mist phased the silhouette of a ship. A large Sifan junk that dwarfed their. Every ship was different. Designed and arranged differently. It honestly depended on what the Elder commissioning it decided. This one was big.

The ship Onica was on had one main mast with the largest sail sat in the center of the boat. A smaller sail sat near the bow, and one even smaller on the stern. The rigging was simple, meant for easy use as they never really needed to be used quickly. In a storm, the ship's hulls were sturdy enough that they could drop sails and just ride it out until the seas calmed. They weren't big, a gelfling could walk from one end to the other in a minute at most. They were more exploratory and mercantile vessels than anything.

The monstrosity that was bearing towards them had four sails, much larger than The Morning Moon's. Though in the same, ribbed style of the junk sails, these were more angular, almost triangle in shape. The sails looked like they folded up on a hinge at the mast rather than just rolling up or down like a normal sail. The two largest sails sat in the middle of the boat's deck and two smaller ones sat bookending them on the bow and stern. Then as she watched, four more sails flipped down off the sides. Two sat lower and further back and the other two were higher and more forward. Still with triangle sails that looked like bat wings. The massive ship continued advancing and caught the sunlight. The sails were blood red and the ship itself, along with the masts had been painted black. The bow was more angular to pierce the water and assist the ship in cutting through the water. It had been a long time since she had seen a Sifa warship.

"They're gaining on us!" Onica shouted. "All sailors to your posts! Make way for the coast! Quickly now!"

There was momentary chaos as the gelfling moved to the rigging and climbed to the sails. The cloth was let to blow out and fill up with wind, which pushed them forward at faster pace. Onica rushed up the stairs to the helm and looked back off the stern. The massive ship sped after them. A flash of light from the ship and there was the sound of whistling air getting louder as something sped closer to them. A firework rocket sped towards them, missing the ship by only a few feet. The rocket exploded in a colorful assault of fire. Flame thankfully didn't catch on any of the sails but Onica got the idea they weren't aiming to set them on fire.

"They're still gaining on us," she said. "Drop what weight we can afford to lose!"

Any hands that weren't working the sales began dumping barrels, crates, and any furniture that wasn't necessary. They were close to the cost anyway. A crate of fireworks was being shouldered to the edge by a larger gelfling. Onica rushed down and put a hand on the crate before he could throw it overboard.

"We're going to need those," she said. "Arm yourselves!"

If they could blow apart ships, she would use the rockets if it came to it. Everyone was now running around with quivers and bows, swords and knives held at their sides. Onica took up her own spear, slinging a shield over her shoulder. She stood on the edge of the ship, the wind whipping her hair and dress but she stood firm. Eyes fixed at the ship still closing in on them. This wasn't a warship. The Sifa hadn't had any in a long time. But now she had to step up.

"She's still gaining on us," the helmsman said.

"We're shallower on the draft, yes?" she asked.

The helmsman looked behind them at the ship.

"Maybe," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

She had to think fast. Onica looked to the horizon the ship was heading towards. She saw more brackish and choppy water ahead to the starboard.

"We're going to try and lose them over those shoals," she said, pointing to the place she was talking about. "We don't have to outrun them long. Just long enough."

The helmsman wrenched the wheel and the ship lurched towards the new heading. The wind roared and the water swirled as they hit the waves. The bow flew up into the air before crashing down into the water again. The spray of the sea splashed them with its salty bite and still the ship continued to gain on them.

The Morning Moon rocked as it struck the choppy water caused by the shoals. The wood creaked and groaned but held strong against the water. They hit the shoals and continued to sail through the shallower area. The other ship followed in hot pursuit. No sooner had the ship hit the shallower water that she saw a shudder in the sail. The ship had hit one of the ridges of sand. It definitely slowed the ship, but didn't halt it. It continued after them, the wind pushing it harder. Every shoal it hit the ship slowed, but never stopped. It had caught too much speed. Onica had very little time to realize she was clear of the shallows and the ship was as well, still closer to them than before.

"She's still gaining on us!" the helmsman said.

Onica stood at the stern and watched the warship get closer and closer. She shot a look to the shore. They were still far away, and the ship was practically on top of them. Another rocket was fired at them, tearing through a sail and exploding just ahead of their bow. They sailed through the smoke and smell of sulfur and phosphorus.

"We're going to have to make a stand!" she yelled to the rest of the junk. "Make ready for a fight. All able hands to the starboard side!"

She marched down to the deck pulling a firework from a box and resting it on the railing.

"Ready the fireworks!" she yelled as she demonstrated. "Like this! Cut the fuse shorter, aim them at the opposing ship? When I give the order, light the fuses and hold onto the anchor stick. They're going to pack a punch."

She saw it on everyone's faces. They were thrown off by this sudden call to arms. This wasn't to plan. Their brethren were dead. Killed by who or whatever was on that boat after them. They might end up like them, but Onica was determined to not let that happen.

"Hold on!" she yelled to the boat. She uncoiled the rope for the starboard anchor and used her spear to pry and leverage the anchor off the side of the boat. It dropped into the water, pulling the rope after it. Suddenly the rope came taunt, and with that the ship jolted.

The ship came to a halt where the anchor rope pulled tight. Wood was torn away by the force and the rest of the ship spun on that axis, carried by its own inertia. Onica watched the other ship adjust its own course in response.

"Light those fuses!" she shouted.

Lanterns were used to ignite the rockets and they were aimed at the ship. Volleys of fireworks shot off towards the hull of the oppressing ship. Some struck and fell into the ocean, some missed, and some made it into the ship itself. There was a brilliant display of explosions as the rockets still lit went off. Some of the sails on the other ship caught. The wood was too wet for anything on the ship to light up. The Morning Moon was preparing for another volley when the ramps were laid down.

From the attacking warship, ran black clad Sifa gelfling. This caused everyone to give pause. Gelfling were attacking them. They were being raided by their own kind. They had no time to really grasp the situation before they were upon them. Swords clashed and arrows flew, from both sides, as the pirates attacked. Onica ducked under a sword swing, shouldering the pirate before jamming her spear into another who had their sword raised. She froze in horror as the purple blood oozed from the wound and the gelfling pulled himself from the spear. The pirate staggered a little before keeling over the ledge, falling into the water. They had been prepared to die and face the skekSis, but to face an army of their own, that was not something they were prepared for. The mental toll was weighing on them. Onica could feel it.

The onslaught continued as more rockets were fired at them. They spun out on deck before exploding in deafening bangs. The sails on the other ship had been put out, but their own were starting to go up in flames causing the masts to burn down too. Onica grabbed her shield from her back and used it to deflect another attack. She then hunkered down behind the little shield and held out her spear. She made an advancing charge up one of the ramps. She was now on the enemy ship and all around her were gelfling with murder in their eyes. She kicked away the ramp she had just run up, watching it fall into the water with a splash.

She spun to the attack, twirling her spear like a professional warrior. Her mini shield she wore on her empty wrist. She took a moment to jab someone in the leg, but jumped back into the tornado of death. Her spear would occasionally slash, but it was mostly being used as a blunt object. She made her way to another ramp. Grabbing the butt end of her spear, she spun the sharpened tip in a circle around herself, clearing the area. When there was enough room she grabbed the ramp and pulled it up with all her strength. Dislodging it from both ships, she then jumped off the rail, back toward her own ship. She landed with a heavy thud of her boots, tucking into a roll and coming to a stop. The wood of the deck was lacquered with burning sail ash, rocket soot, and gelfling blood. She gripped her spear and stood, spinning to her ship.

The Morning Moon was staving off the remaining pirates. They were either being killed off or pushed into the water. Onica grabbed a rocket, lit it, and aimed it at the ship. It shot off towards the captain's cabin and struck through a window, exploding in a brilliant display of green and blue. Unfortunately nothing caught on fire, but there was a lul in all the activity. She stood firm on the deck, spear at her side and shield on her wrist, ready for an attack.

There was a stare off between the two sides. Bows were drawn and ready to fire from both sides.

"Stop blowing holes in my ship!" Elder Cadia screamed from below deck. He rushed up and looked around, confused. No sooner had he shown his face that an arrow was loosed into his heart. The force of the arrow sent him falling to the deck. Onica rushed to his side and he looked around with shock, fear, and concussion. The pain set in as she cradled his head but it was too late. 

"Onica," he said, remembrance acting at a cruel time. "Goodbye."

His eyes faded and he died in her arms.

A shaking rage swelled from her stomach. If she still had her wings, they would have flicked out to allow her to take wing and find the bastard who loosed that arrow. But all she could do was yell.

"Fire!"

A volley of arrows shot from the deck of The Morning Moon and mowed down a good number of the opposing gelfling. They in turn released their own arrows. Onica flipped out her shield and held it over her head, hunkering underneath it as well as she could. Her shield, as well as the deck, was stuck with multiple arrows. Bodies fell and another volley of rockets fired from both sides. The Morning Moon was taking a much harder beating than the warship. They were taking on water and the ship was in no shape to sail anywhere.

"HOLD!!!" someone screamed from the warship. Immediately the entire pirate crew stopped their attacks and backed from the edge. There was a stillness and Onica just felt rage. If this was a captain, she wanted nothing but to shoot them down. She shifted her hold on the spear in case.

"You've made a valiant effort," he called, still not showing himself. "I praise you for your warrior spirit. I offer you this choice just once. Come willingly, or go down with your ship."

Onica thought the voice sounded familiar.

"So you can just kill us?" she called back.

"I offer you a choice," they repeated. "Die now, or live longer with another chance to escape."

"A generous offer for someone who just massacred his own people," she spat.

"I was hoping you would make the choice willingly," they said again. "It would seem I have to expedite your decision making."

A flaming barrel was tossed over the side and onto the deck. It broke apart on impact and flame spread everywhere as oil flowed all over the ship. No one hesitated in jumping over the side and swimming for the ship. Oil fires were no joke. The only one that remained was Onica. She stood firm in her place, ready to go down with the ship as it started to burn and sink deeper into the water.

Finally a figure made himself seen.

"Don't be foolish," he shouted. "You are a good warrior, but don't let honor blind you."

Onica let her spear fly at the figure who simply stood there. The Morning Moon had sunk low enough that she had lost her vantage point, the spear lodging into the ship's side. He simply looked down on her, either watching or waiting, depending on what she would do.

She stood as water seeped into her boots and fire began to catch the wet. She felt a burning on her wrist and looked down to her cuff. The fires were heating up the metal and she took it as a sign. A sign from beyond the grave.

She relented and a few moments later, she was climbing a ladder onto the pirate ship with the rest of her crew. When she reached the top a gloved hand reached down to assist her. She looked up to the scarred face and begrudgingly took it. She was hoisted onto the ship and clapped into a pair of iron chains.

"Fenth," she muttered under her breath. The old Sifa pirate captain heard her say his name and looked at her with a smirk that squinted his calcified left eye. The scar running across his face was a telltale giveaway of who he was. He tipped his wide brimmed hat to her and bowed on his walking cane.

"Send word to The Dreadnought we are ready to depart when they are," he said. "We've had our fun."

There was the sound of a far off explosion and everyone turned to look.

"And it would seem they've had theirs," he smirked before walking off back to his quarters.

Onica didn't even realize the deck was bustling with repair work as she was dragged off to be held below deck. All she could focus on was the cloud of fog. Within that dark mist there was now a massive fire burning on the water. There were more explosions that flared up and accelerated the flame. Soon she saw it. The Omerya. The Sifa Clan's flagship and home of the Maudra. A massive ship made of coral, large enough to hold the enormity of The Great Tree. It was up in flames, burning. Her home, burning. Her Maudra, burning. Her friends and family, as the screams she heard confirmed, burning. All she could do was watch in despair as her eyes filled with tears. She continued watching as the tree's dual trunks split in half, splitting the ship it was made into in two. And still the flames burned. It was all reflected in her watering eyes.

"I think they've seen enough quartermaster," Fenth called from the helm. "You may take them below."

She was dragged below deck, and the last thing she saw was a truly monstrous ship, as big as The Omerya itself. It cleaved its way through the wreckage as easily as a knife cutting bread. The silhouette was all she saw of the gargantuan vessel before she was dragged below deck. Though she was grateful to be alive, the despair persisted. Gnawing at her and making her feel bad for still being alive when so many around her had died.

The Sifa Clan was no more.

Chapter Text

Machinations whirred to life as skekTek flipped the switch. The gears spun. The arms flipped. The restraints clamped shut with a satisfying metallic cling. The bellows huffed and puffed air, which sucked through the tubes with a whooshing sound. And the machine continued with these satisfying sounds as proof that it was working.

"Yes!" he shrieked in delight. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yesss!!! Finally! Days of toiling and fine tuning finesse have paid off!!!"

His celebration was not shared with others. There was only him and his lab. And the creatures in his lab were scared of his machine. Its noises and motion made them uneasy. And the fact they were caged did not help their condition. But the fear is what stuck with him. The animals were afraid of him, and his fellow skekSis comrades were indifferent to what he did for them, being more focused on the outcome rather than how it was achieved.

"Shut up!" he screamed to the cages, flipping off the switch. "Your screeching is most pestering on my mind."

The animals continued to squeal, chirp, and hoot, forcing the skekSis to bring his hands up to his ears to mute the sound. Despite this action, he continued to become overstimulated. The noises grated his teeth and rattled his brain to the point his neck began to hurt. He squeezed until his head felt like it would pop, but he could bear it no longer. With great, and noisy exertion, he grabbed the sack of meal. He drove a hand into the bag and pulled out a fistful of generic feed. He violently threw these fistfuls into the cages and the little bits pelted the animals, finally making them silent. Once the noise had died down, he took a deep breath and let out a calming sigh of relief.

There was a small bowl which he took from a counter and scooped out a small bit. He then opened up the small hanging cage and put the bowl in the bedding of his sidetic. The little green creature gleefully hopped to the bowl and began to eat. skekTek stroked the feathers on its head with relaxed tenderness which helped calm him down all the more. The sidetic had been the only animal to not scream.

"One of the few friends I've ever truly had," he said.

"So this is how you spend your days," skekUng said. He had entered the scientist's Chamber of Life and was pacing around its perimeter. The skekSis was looking around at the cages and equipment with almost disgusted fascination.

"skekUng," the scientist greeted. "I did not expect you to meet me in this place."

"I simply came to see the process of essence making," he said, turning from a cage of solobe to face the scientist. "This is a visit for educational purposes. Nothing more."

The scientist's demeanor visibly sank. This was not a social visitation, and he had nothing to show for what skekUng was looking for.

"And its Garthim Master," the skekSis said, standing taller. "In case you forgot my new standing."

"Of course Garthim Master," the scientist sneered with a half-hearted bow.

skekUng made a threatening lunge for the scientist and skekTek coiled back in fear.

"Forgive me!" he shouted, and the skekSis stopped, a hand raised. He took a few steps closer until he was threateningly close to the scientist. skekTek kept his eyes down and away.

"I don't much care for your cheek," skekUng growled in his ear. "You'll do well to avoid it in the future."

"Yes," the scientist conceded, backing away from his aggressor.

skekUng stood tall, proud of his victory and looked to the chair.

"This is the extraction device?" he asked.

"Indeed," the scientist answered. "The process is simple. A gelfling is placed in the chair and restrained. I flip the switch, which locks them in further, and then the extraction begins. I was able to create a reverse charge on the crystal, forcing it to take life force from the gelfling, as it is no longer able to take from Thra itself. What we are left with is pure, uncontaminated, gelfling essence. More invigorating than drawing from the crystal if you ask me."

"I would like to witness such an occasion," skekUng said.

"Ah yes," the scientist stammered. "Well, you see the problem with that is, we have no more gelfling in our possession that we can drain."

Instead of becoming angry, the Garthim Master simply sighed.

"What of these rabble?" he asked, motioning to the pens around them.

"The machine is not entirely, shall we say, conforming to their anatomy," skekTek pointed out. "And gelfling are the closest beings to Thra. I do not know for certain if we will get any pure essence from them or essence of the same strength or with the same results."

skekUng nodded.

"This is not my area of expertise," he said. "So I will have to take your word for it. To a similar matter however; how much do we have left?"

skekTek moved to the cabinet on the far wall. The two locksnakes spun at him and hissed in a threat. He had upped security since skekSil broke into his stores. He calmly and carefully coaxed the two creatures into a small jar before pulling a key from his belt and unlocking the padlock with a click. He pulled the doors open and showed the new master of garthim. Two shelves of essence were left.

"A limited supply," skekUng observed.

"I am doing my best to keep up rations but-"

"I will speak with the emperor," the other skekSis interrupted. "I will try to sway his mind to see the reason. Until we quell this rebellion and can restock our supply of essence."

"I thank you," the scientist said, unsettled by the skekSis' calm, generosity. He then locked the cabinet and put the two locksnakes back.

"I can be reasonable," the master said, noticing skekTek's off-put body language. "In the same way I won't be taking control of the garthim until the time is right."

skekTek looked up into the eyes of the garthim master.

Until you can make a move that makes you shine in the emperor's eyes, he thought to himself. His thoughts must have been easy to read for the garthim master simply smirked with a slight cock of his head, confirming the scientist's suspicion.

"In the meantime," skekUng said, getting closer until he towered over the other skekSis. "With the chair fixed, I would make sure garthim are created at a steady pace if I were you."

"I only have enough material for one more," the scientist protested.

skekUng grabbed skekTek by the throat. The scientist choked in the grasp and clawed at the talons that held him.

"Then do your best to look for more," he threatened. "skekNa will be arriving within a few more days. With him he will bring grunak. I'm certain we will be able to defeat a few arathim when he arrives. When that happens, I don't want to see you outside your lab unless it's to say you've created a legion for me."

"And if the emperor calls for me?" the scientist jabbed, causing the garthim master to squeeze stronger and his eyes to glisten with more malice.

"Then you will do well to follow his orders," he glowered.

skekUng released the scientist before walking from the chamber of life without so much as a glance behind him. skekTek was left gasping for air and clutching his throat. The garthim master was gone before he could make a retort. Not that he would have had the mind to do such a thing. Such a play would have been foolish on his part. He valued his life too much, and skekUng was quick to anger.

And now he was alone again.

"skekTek," the voice called.

The scientist looked up to the sound that was barely a whisper, yet echoed through the room as if it had been shouted. He picked himself up from the countertop and moved to the nebrie pen. He opened the cage doors and stooped down to look in at the crack. He didn't crawl in like he had before, but he just looked. There was no eye.

"Over here," the voice sounded again.

And skekTek turned his head. The sound now coming from the next cage over. He stood, closing the cage and walking over to the other, peering in with his replaced and enhanced eye. There was no crack or hole in this one, yet the voice was the same; from the same person, whoever it was.

"Follow me," the ghost continued.

skekTek didn't follow. This time he remained where he was. Something flashed out of the corner of his eye, leading his glance to go back into the cage. Within, he saw a faint glint. A singular shine that intrigued him. Opening the cage he reached in, passed the moogs. Sifting through the bedding he found a small linkage of chain. Like a gelfling earring, but not. There was no clasp or piercing hook. It was missing that. Dangling at the end of the linkage, was a singular, small, purple gemstone no bigger than a pebble. It was uncut, yet polished on the faces. Light didn't pass through it like it would a finely cut prism. It bounced all over the gem, capturing the light and not letting it out. Almost giving off the illusion of glowing. The recognition set in mere moments after skekTek noticed this familiarity. skekEkt's fine handiwork, only seen in certain garments of the skekSis'. This illusion created by the gem was made specially for one such garment. One specific garment.

"Down the hall to your left," the voice hissed, still disembodied. "And bring my trinket."

skekTek walked to the entrance of his lab and looked down the hall. skekUng was well gone by this point. Feeling a small surge of confidence, he walked to the end of the hall. The entire time he walked, he heard whispering. Sounds from within the stone of the Castle of The Crystal that something, more likely someone, was following him. Making sure he didn't mess up. Holding the small jewel in his fingers he turned left down the hall, determined to find who this was.

"Stop," the voice told him.

The scientist did as he was told. He stood in the hall, the only sound being the crackling of torches and the incessant scattering from within the walls. He leaned in to the one on his left and pressed his ear close.

"Step away," the whisper said into his ear, at a normal talking volume to him.

skekTek initially withdrew from the sudden voice practically in his ear, continuing to step away until his back was against the cold stone behind him.

More scuttling, more shifting, until there was the sound of a mechanism and the strong sound of rock splitting open. The scientist looked at the wall as a large crack formed in the solid, black obsidian. His eyes widened at the door forming before him. The section of wall swung inward and the scientist peered into the darkness.

"Take a torch and follow."

The scientist, for curiosity was his weakness, took the torch closest to him and stepped into the darkness. A few feet in and the door slid shut behind him, locking him in the abyss. He stood frozen as he heard footsteps around him. They moved from behind him, having closed the door, around in front of him, but they kept out of the torchlight. skekTek strained both his eyes to see who it was, to confirm his suspicions, but it was truly too dark.

Then from the darkness of the void he was in, there came the faintest of glows. A soft, blue light. Like a far off star in the night sky. It flickered in and out, like it was struggling to keep alight. As the scientist got closer to the glowing material, he saw its structures like a webbing of plant material that had been stuffed into a glass orb. The bioluminescent moss glowed faintly and when he got too close, it backed away. He followed as it led him somewhere. He didn't entirely know where he was going. All he saw was darkness. What he heard was a different matter. At first it sounded like he was walking down a narrow passage that was getting narrower, as the sound bounced off the rock sooner and sooner the farther he walked. Then he heard a sound like running water from underneath him as his footing changed. It went from solid stone to a more wooden feel. The ground also bounced, as if he were on a bridge. He saw no guide rails and dared not look down. Reaching the other side, he felt the cold stone against his feet again as the blow glow continued to float away.

A few feet from the supposed bridge and the glow disappeared, as if behind a wall caused by some bend of the passage. He reached out a hand and felt along the walls until he reached an edge. He turned around the corner and looked at the glowing orb, seemingly waiting for him. He brought his torch around in front of him, holding it out to light more of the way. The light floated away and he followed. He walked after it until the light went out. skekTek froze, alone in only his torchlight.

"Forward some more," the voice said from the darkness in front of him.

The scientist refused this time, not moving an inch.

"FORWARD!" the voice growl-shouted in his ear, as if they were now standing directly behind him.

This sudden change in location of the strange being scared him further down the path in a stumble. He kept himself standing, sure not to let his robes catch as the torch flailed around in the dark. He walked forward a few more feet until the sound ceased. The muted sound of being enclosed in the passage ended as the sound opened. Like he had stepped into a very large room. The echo was distant and high.

There was a sudden, strong gust of air and the skekSis' torch sputtered out. His breath quickened, the heart rate sped up a few beats. He was left in the dark chasm, alone with the skittering footsteps that were shuffling around the room he was now in. There was the sound of grinding gears, as if whoever was here with him were turning the wheel of some great mechanism. Light streamed in from above as a skylight covering slid out of place. Fresh air billowed down as the vacuum was offset and exposed to the outside. As the stream of sun rays speared in from the skylight, the scientist looked around and saw he was in a big cistern.

The stone ceiling and walls were built into a domed structure, with the sky light at the pinnacle. There was a pool of water in the center, being fed by the river he had just crossed over. The pooled water was then funneling off into another passage. The light now flooded the entire space and skekTek looked around in awe at the structural engineering that had been under his nose the entire time. There were little chambers built into the sides of the cistern walls. Each one was between large stone struts that held the majority of the structure's weight. Within each of these cubbies were rooms, each set up with their particular functions. There was a library, stocked with books and tomes, one which was laid open on a small table. A small cooking and dining area, a well stocked little alchemical lab, a general workbench with a variety of tools, and an elaborately decorated bedroom space with a small bed roll in the center were among the rooms he saw. There was one place the suns' lights hadn't reached. This cubby was still in shadow, though not quite dark enough to completely hide the figure that was crouched within.

"If you would be so kind as to toss me my belonging," they asked.

skekTek rubbed the little gemstone with his thumb, contemplating a moment before tossing the chained jewel across the cistern. A hand shot out and snatched the accessory from the air. Movement from the shadows caught a small stream of light and the scientist saw the hand put the jewel back. It hooked nicely onto a shawl that was adorned with plenty of similar jewels, filling up a vacant spot on the cloth. A tail momentarily graced the light as well.

"To whom am I speaking?" the scientist asked.

The shadow moved and gained double its height. The shadow now stood taller than the emperor, even taller than skekUng. Not by much, but a substantial enough margin that it was clear from across the water pool.

"Do you wish to know who you speak with now?" they asked. "Or would you rather know who it is they used to be?"

The scientist raised his only good eyebrow.

"Because believe me," the shadow said. "Both are interesting, but one is far more interesting than the other."

Their voice was like that of The Chamberlains. Though deeper, much more earthy and guttural, and far more eloquent. More subtly thoughtful, leaving not much to go on. While with skekSil you could clearly tell when he was plotting something, you couldn't get such a read with this voice.

"I would like to see who it is I speak to first," skekTek said.

They chuckled, pulling further back into the shadows.

"Looks can be deceiving skekTek," they said. "The eyes can be traitors to their very nature. Leaving us the victims of their own warped perceptions. You would know all about that, wouldn't you scientist?"

"I have not the foggiest idea what you speak of," the skekSis retorted, almost insulted at the idea his vision wasn't impeccable.

"Come now," the creature said with an audible smile. "I've seen you toiling away in your lab. I've watched as you went blind to deceit and betrayal."

Venom pricked the very words that they spoke.

"I watched as you went about your tasks while, unbeknownst to you, a traitor spun his own web amongst your machines. Through the minds of your...assistants."

"You speak of the grunaks' betrayal?" skekTek asked.

"Obviously," the creature said. "Though to you it was just a simple slave rebelling against its master for freedom. But I saw the truth. I heard it all. Said idea was planted in their heads by another, who failed to deliver. All for their own personal gain. And they have received what they were after."

The scientist stood confused.

"You are a bit daft," the shadow jeered. "Aren't you?"

"I was," the scientist chose his words carefully. "Waiting for you to finish."

The tall shadow loomed out from the dark. A long snout was the first thing that pierced into the sunlight. A skekSis snout. Their mismatched reptilian eyes, one red and one blue, looked across the cistern, through the scientist, dissecting his very core being. A mane of black feathers matching his black scaly skin followed atop his head and down his neck. He was dressed with magenta robes that did little to hide his well kept form, much like skekMal, though these clothes were well kept. Over these robes he wore a darker shaded shawl adorned with gems exactly like the one skekTek had found. Every gemstone was different in color, having been cut and polished with the same acute precision that allowed them all to catch the light. It made the shawl look like a wearable night sky. He stood clearly in the light, his extra long, prehensile tail wrapping around his feet as he stood to his full height.

"skekLi?" the scientist asked.

"You sound surprised," the satirist said, hunkering down onto his legs and dominant arms to prowl around the edge of the cistern like a wild animal. His smaller secondary arms hung from under his abdomen the way a bird's legs did while in flight. He crawled like one of the feral rakkida from the endless forest. The tail trailed after him and his shoulder bones bulged as he walked, visible through what he was wearing. His hips swiveled and swayed like a wild animal ready to pounce. skekTek did well to counter his movements and stay as far from him as possible.

"I thought you had left the castle," the scientist. "After the Great Division."

skekLi laughed.

"I know you did," he sneered. "That's what everyone thought. But I've been here since. For one thousand trine I've made my home in the passages long forgotten by our brethren. I've listened. Watched. And you wouldn't believe the things I've heard. Nor the things I've seen."

He kept circling and skekTek was doing his best to stay on the direct opposite side, but it was getting difficult. The Satirist was faster than he was due to the larger size and stride. The scientist was doing his best not to fumble on his robes. skekLi knew how his presence affected those around him. He was an imposing creature and even skekMal had steered clear of him in the time he was alive.

"Do you have the slightest idea of the amount of intrigue that is now laced within the skekSis themselves?" he asked. "Do you dare to hear what I have to say?"

"I don't know how to respond to my old friend," the scientist said. "We've not seen each other in an age."

"Wrong," the lumbering skekSis snapped. "You've not seen me in an age. I've seen you this entire time."

The scientist swallowed. Right before his foot stepped on his robes and he tripped. Landing hard on the stone he scrambled to get back up. Once he was on his two feet, skekLi was no more than a foot away from him. The shorter skekSis looked up into the wild eyes of the taller one with fear and panic. He had forgotten how tall skekLi was; here on his four limbs he was a good foot and a half taller than skekUng. Another skekSis could fix a saddle to him and use him the same way a gelfling did to a landstrider. The larger creature then pushed up to sit on his haunches, which made him all the more taller. A truly monstrous creature, yet he moved with such elegance and grace it was hard to truly believe he was a skekSis.

"I just wish to sit," the towering figure said. "And talk."

"What about?" the scientist said, still cowering away a little.

skekLi reached into the small room he was next to and pulled the chair from the library. He placed it in front of him, between him and skekTek, before gesturing to it.

skekTek read no more hostility in The Satirist. It was as if he had simply needed to get it out of his system and could now be civilized. In the way skekSis were. He hesitantly walked forward and sat in the wooden seat, sure to carefully shift it away just a little more for his own want. The Satirist's tail then wrapped around behind the scientist's chair, trapping him in a circle of the other skekSis' making.

"Now then," skekLi said. "Tell me of this resistance. I've not left the walls of this castle for many a trine. I know of how it started, but how is it fairing? Does the outcome seem to sway in or out of our favor?"

"We've lost skekMal, skekLach and skekVar to the gelfling,"the scientist said.

"False," the satirist said.

"Pardon?" the scientist asked.

"More accurately of those three statements two are true," the behemoth answered. "But the other is false."

He glowered down on the scientist. He felt as though he were being blamed but he didn't know for what. One of the skekSis' deaths? Absurd. It was not allowed of skekSis to kill other skekSis. Which is why skekGra had to be executed. He had willingly aided in three deaths.

"Did the general claim anything before his untimely demise?" skekLi asked.

"No," the scientist answered. "Just that the essence wasn't providing the same-"

"What was that?" the satirist asked, making a big show of cupping an ear to listen closer.

"All he said was that the gelfling essence didn't have the same effects," the scientist said. "That I had something to do with poisoning him. But that was a preposterous accusation."

In a sudden motion the chair was ripped from under skekTek and he felt the tail wrap around his leg and he was hoisted upwards. skekLi stood on his legs to his full height, which was not hunched over after trines of being burdened by unnecessary display ornaments, and dangled the scientist over the pool of water, kicking its surface and causing a splash there was a sudden disturbance in the surface of the water as hundreds of voracious round bobs swarmed the area under skekTek. The scientist screamed and struggled with his captor.

"A preposterous accusation which turned out to be true!" skekLi shouted. "Now you tell me, and don't lie because I know the truth. Did you tamper with skekVar's essence? Or conspire in any way to do so?"

"NO!!!" skekTek screamed, fearing for his life.

"I know," skekLi said, tossing a slab of meat into the water, diverting the round bobs. "I just needed to hear you say it to quell any last remaining suspicions I had."

skekTek was placed carefully back on the ground, his robes and garment placing fixed by skekLi.

"I had to ask," skekLi said apologetically. "To make sure I could truly trust you."

skekTek looked up at The Satirist with disbelief, though relieved to be alive.

"You may trust me," the scientist said. "However I don't think I will ever entirely trust you."

"A small but worthwhile price to pay," skekLi reasoned.

"What is all this about?" skekTek spat. "You lure me from my lab, lead me through secret passages I have no way of traversing to get back, and threaten my life in order to gain confidence in me. It better be important."

skekLi looked at the scientist with a skeptical eye.

"Perhaps you would like to know who is responsible for it all going wrong?" skekLi asked. "For skekVar's death. For your defeat at Stone-in-Wood. For your grunak servants rebelling against you."

skekTek said nothing, still unsure of the massive figure that stood before him.

"How do I know what you say is the truth?" he asked. "Can I trust you?'

"I'm a skekSis," skekLi said, staring at his peer with point blank honesty. "By nature, I'm untrustworthy, and you are rightfully paranoid. I have my own agenda, as do you. The only thing that should be of focus is the fact that we have a common opponent. And I have information vital for you to hear if we are to remain partners."

"What would I stand to gain?" skekTek asked.

"A more respected place amongst your peers," skekLi answered, straightforward.

The scientist nodded to show he was listening.

"Since I've made my home in these accursed walls," he started, standing on fours again and pacing around the scientist. "I've heard nearly everything everyone has said. I've seen through the nooks, crannies, and cracks things that make my feathers stand on edge with fury. For example...did you know skekOk speaks in his sleep? Consistently yammering away and repeating everything he needs to remember to write down the next day. And come morning, he forgets everything and...makes it up. And you skekTek, I know you have taken quite a fondness for your sidetic. So much so that sometimes...you sneak the little thing acute amounts of essence."

skekTek's heart skipped a beat. He only ever took from his own essence bottle, but it was true. Further lending to the larger skekSis' credibility.

"There is something else I know," the satirist said. "To the matter at hand. The traitorous usurper that walks about your ranks after killing one of his own. He speaks about it to himself, yes. He mutters his glee in private for no one else must hear it, the vile fiend. For that's what he is. A fiend. One who steals essence from those he calls 'friend' in order to weaken him before landing the killing blow at the opportune moment."

"Mmmm," the whimper sounded through the cistern from across the water. skekTek turned to see empty air, remembering in his turn that skekLi had also been the court jester, and could throw his voice.

"skekSil?" the scientist asked.

He looked back at the satirist with one good quizzical eye. He waited for an answer, but he knew he didn't need one. Deep down he knew it to be true. The Chamberlain had gone behind all of their backs, summoning skekMal for his own gain at great risk. Taking back his seat at skekSo's side after the Battle of Stone-in-Wood after the general's defeat, he had been smiling. Looking back, when others had been mourning, he had taken the loss very lightly and smirked when the seat as the emperor's right hand was given back to him by default.

"He killed the general," skekLi confirmed. "I heard it from his own lips. He killed him to regain his seat. And now he waltzes about in the emperor's favor, when justice should be paid."

"A most astute observation," the scientist growled. "We must bring this information before the emperor at once."

"No!" skekLi said, halting the other skekSis in his place. "No, we must not be too hasty. The Chamberlain is crafty. If he realizes we're on to him he will formulate his own counterplan."

"But he must face judgment!" skekTek yelled. "Justice must be served."

"And it will be," the satirist said. "Besides, if I went to the emperor, now, with the news, I would not be trusted. I was the court jester and satirist. No one would believe a word I had to say. But if you were to tell them-"

"No one would believe me either," skekTek said. "And I'm to stay in the lab until a legion of Garthim are assembled."

skekLi sat down cross legged in the library area, deep in thought.

"I still hold you as the best of your peers to help me in my task," he said. "Even though we are both at a disadvantage. Which is why he won't suspect us."

"Your task?"

"That seat should be mine," he said with a face so serious, it looked like a threat. "I may hear and see things, but I whisper things as well. Did you really expect the emperor had the wisdom to recruit his old enemy against the gelfling resistance?"

"That was-?"

"Me," he interrupted. "I whispered the idea to him in his sleep."

skekLi was getting irritable again. His calm demeanor and cool exterior was slipping.

"You aim to take skekSil's seat," skekTek reasoned out loud. "As he took it from skekVar."

"Indeed," he said. "There had to have been a time when he and the general were out of sight from everyone else."

"There was," the scientist said.

"Then that is what we will do," the skekSis said, standing to his full height again. He hollered out in pain as hit his head on the stone ceiling of the cubby he was in. And for a moment there was a tension in the air as he stood there, half hunched over and holding his head in pain. With a loud growl that grew into a scream he upended the shelves, tearing the wood apart and damaging the pages of the books as he threw them, stomped them, and ripped them in his rage. skekTek took a few steps back before stopping himself, almost forgetting the pool of round bobs. When the large, feral beast that was skekLi's temper calmed down, he stood in a pile of torn pages and broken book spines.

"I'll lead you back the way we came," he said, as calmly as he could. "In the meantime, spread discourse. Tell everyone of how the last to see skekVar alive was The Chamberlain. Spread doubt. And when the time is right, I will let you know when to make our move."

The creature crawled back towards the entrance, the scientist following after.

"And we have to act quickly," the satirist said. "I fear he may let this get to his head and pursue higher goals.

~~~~~

skekSil walked through the Castle of the Crystal smiling to himself. His whine was persistent the entire time as he thought to himself how much he had been able to accomplish. And without anyone noticing. Podling slaves walked past pushing a cart of food for the emperor and he stepped out of the way, snatching some baked pluff'm for himself as a snack. Surely they wouldn't miss one tiny morsel.

He watched the podlings turn the corner before crunching down on the tender flesh still on the bone. A delightful treat he would have to compliment skekAyuk on. Passing the throne room he stopped for a little while. He looked to the now vacant seat. He looked at the seat and took another aggressive crunch from his snack. He was playing a new game, and he had chosen the prize. He turned back down the hall, and continued on his way. He had plans to scheme in order to win said prize.

And the vacant throne loomed in the empty room.

Chapter Text

The grasses rustled with the breeze that whipped through the plains. The whistle was empty yet pleasant. The solitude had eased its way in hours ago and she had settled into her meditation. She was already one with Thra, but she still took a few moments to better attune her mind to its sways and flows. There was a lot on her mind as of late, and she wasn't as level headed as she once was. The formation of the resistance had been necessary for a multitude of reasons. The time of skekSis needed to end. Their very presence strengthened the Darkening and defiled the very lands and people that they governed. The gelfling uprising was Thra's way of fighting an infection, like any living, breathing organism.

Then there was Raunip. Her son had always been a wild card. He came from a living meteorite she had found and decided to use its substances to form another being. One she could converse with. And he was just that, for a few moments of time. He had been a good sounding board and an intelligent, sentient being she could talk to. But over the trines, he started to rebel. He didn't hear Thra's song and therefore he didn't understand the importance of some of her actions. And when the urskeks arrived, changing the song of Thra, he really started to fight back, creating more upheaval. He saw hypocrisy everywhere and decided he would take matters into his own hands. He went off on his own. He would disappear for trines at a time, and every time he returned, something major happened. Though he was doing things his own way, he still had Thra in mind and wanted what was best. He did it in his own way. It was just annoying that his actions interfered with hers. And he wasn't really one for open communication while there were things he could be doing instead.

She hadn't felt Thra's song change since they had parted ways from Raunip's Cradle. She didn't know whether to take that as a sign of relief or worry. After he left, she had regained her strength with the fruits growing from the tree in the crater. She then took the long hike demanded of her by Thra to Nenadi-Staba; The Gnarl Tree of the Spriton Clan. She then took this moment to sit down and meditate with the world. She didn't know how much longer she had to go, so she was preserving her strength.

Mother Aughra, she heard through her meditation.

She didn't open her eyes and instead reached out with her mind to the beckoning call.

It has been a long time Mother Aughra, the voice continued. You are close, not much further now. Come, follow my roots. I await your audience.

Aughra opened her eyes and looked down to a tickling sensation. A small root had grown up from the ground and the tip was now scraping the ball of her foot. She took her walking stick from across her lap and jammed the end into the earth, lifting herself up to stand. She looked down at the small little root that was swaying in the breeze with the grasses. Looking to the horizon of the grass ocean, she saw a line of hills and mountains rising in the distance. At the top of one, she saw the massive shape of a physically squat tree.

You won't have to climb to the top, the tree assured her.

Aughra smirked a bit and began walking again. Walker Aughra had a nice ring to it, maybe she could convince the gelfling to start calling her that.

After an hour or so of walking, Mother Aughra came to the Spriton city of Sami Thicket. The fragrance of freshly baked bread and homestyle cooking filled her nose. She would have to have a taste before she left. The city was uncharacteristically quiet. Not to say it was completely dead, there were still gelfling walking about and doing their business, but there wasn't the bustling, lively atmosphere that she was used to. Everyone was keeping to themselves, holed up in the houses built into and under the massive labyrinthian roots from the Gnoll Tree. They were scared, hiding away from something.

She came to a market square with empty booths and carts scattered around the area. A small, simple fountain bubbled in the center and a breeze swept light dirt and soil across the ground in small tornadoes. Aughra looked around in confusion at the marketplace. She looked up to the great tree.

"What is happening?" she asked.

There was a creaking around her as the massive roots shifted ever so slightly to grab her attention, but not to disrupt the city nestled in her roots. The old sage walked over to one of the massive taproots, which towered over her like one of the buildings. She tentatively reached out a hand and pressed firmly against the bark. The growth of her pinky clicked into the gnarls of the wood and she felt the power of the tree surge through her entire being. Like a sudden jolt of lightning, she felt highly energetic but something was wrong. She had energy and an urge to do something with it, but that same energy was holding her back and keeping her rooted to her place. The Darkening.

Mother Aughra, the tree greeted with a verbal and emotionally sad smile. It has been too long.

"Indeed," the sage said. "I have missed this place. I apologize for my absence. I wish to speak further, but there are dire times ahead of us. Thra has sent me here on a mission, though I don't know of what kind."

The tree sent an uncomfortable wave through its essence.

Look up to my branches, the tree said.

Aughra looked up to The Great Tree. She was expecting to see the large, broad golden leaves in the warm summer air, but there was no such glisten. The Gnoll Tree was stripped bare of her brilliant leaves. The sage hadn't even noticed until it was pointed out, and there was a reason. The leaves were being mimicked by swarms of windsifters and vindles. They were holding on to the ends of the twigs, swaying in the night air.

They spend all day eating away at what leaves I can produce, the tree said. They are infected with The Darkening, which poisons the very air and soil of this world. Sami Thicket is being destroyed by the energy of The Darkening. Crops fail. Bread no longer rises. The animals and livestock rampage and run wild through the farmlands, destroying crops further and spreading The Darkening. I hold on as best I can. As strong as I can. But I fear The Darkening will consume me, as it did Olyeka, Omerya, and Vliste-Staba.

"Omerya-Staba?" Aughra asked. "The Great Tree of the Sifa Clan? The Darkening has spread that far?"

Yes, the tree answered. We are all doing our best, but the Darkening must be beaten to save Thra. And with three of us gone, only four remain. We cannot purify The Darkening's energy fast enough. There is too much already, and it continues to accumulate exponentially.

"What must I do?" Aughra asked.

Our fate lies with the gelfling resistance, the Great Tree said. They must reunite the shard with the Crystal of Truth. It is the only way.

"But you mustn't fail either," Aughra reminded. "For if you fall, then the resistance will surely follow, consumed by Darkening."

The tree suddenly fell silent. She neither spoke, nor thought, or even moved. Yet she was not dead.

"You've gone dormant," the sage said, removing her hand from the tree's root. "Too weak to speak. I understand. Focus on your task. I must see to mine."

Aughra looked up to the branches, at the critters holding onto the branches and gnawing away at whatever vegetation was left.

"But first," she said. "I must help you with yours."

There was a scuttling directly above her and the old sage looked up to the top of the root. A squirrely swoothu skittered along the bark, looking down on her. Its feathery black and white tail twitched with every chirp it made. The four large whiskers on the front of its face bent towards Aughra, trying to get a sense of who and what she was. Given its poor eyesight, that was the only way for it to decipher the world around it. Those four whiskers and its large wing-like ears. She reached forward and it coiled back, screeching at her approach, folding its ears and whiskers back while its tail furiously whipped back and forth. Aughra held her hand where it was and let the creature approach her on its own terms.

"Nothing to fear my sweet creature," Aughra consoled. "I mean you no harm."

The swoothu slowly approached her hand. Upon the tips of its whiskers brushing her skin, the creature immediately became comfortable, crawling onto her arm and up to her shoulder. She couldn't help smirking at the creature tickling her face with its whiskers.

"Stop it," she laughed. "Stop it I say."

She reached into a pouch on her hip and pulled out a tree nut. The swoothu wasted no time in scurrying down her arm and snatching it from her grasp. It returned to her shoulder to eat its bounty.

"There," she said. "Haven't eaten in a long time have you?"

"Mr. Tumbus likes you," a small voice said behind her.

She slowly spun to the voice, as not to disturb the swoothu, and beheld a small gelfling child.

"Is that his name?" she asked.

"Well," the little girl said, nervously shifting on her feet. "It's what I call him. But my brother says he doesn't have a name. That he's a wild animal, and they aren't supposed to have names."

"Everything has a name," Aughra said. "Dear child, everything and everyone has a name."

"Do you have a name?" the child asked.

"I do," Aughra groaned as she squatted down to the little gelfling's level, the swoothu still on her shoulder. "One that you might know."

"You don't look like any gelfling I've ever met or heard about," she said.

"I am not gelfling," Aughra said. "I am older."

"You dont look like a skekSis," she said. "Are you a mystic?"

Aughra shook her head. The swoothu had finished its nut and was looking for more, crawling down and pulling another from the pouch.

"I am older," she said with a little smirk. "Much older."

"How old is that?" the child asked.

"As old as Thra itself," Aughra answered. "As old as the very ground we all walk upon."

"I don't believe you," the kid said, crossing her arms. "Nothings older than Thra, not even Aughra."

The sage raised her eyebrow.

"How do you mean?" she asked, intrigued to hear the child's response.

"Thra came first," she said. "Then Aughra. Aughra is linked to Thra because Thra made her to act in its stead."

Mother Aughra smiled at the child and chuckled.

"That is true," she said. "I am indeed ancient, but Thra is much older than me still."

The child's eyes widened and she uncrossed her arms, stepping back surprise and respectful fear.

"There's no need to be afraid," Aughra laughed. "Child you've well entertained this old bag of bones. It's been a long time since I've spoken with anyone such as yourself."

The gelfling became more at ease with the sage before her.

"Perhaps you could help me," she said. "You seem like a smart girl."

She smiled at this.

"Come," she said, pulling a small lantern from her hip. "Sit with me for a while."

"I really should be getting home," she said. "It's almost bedtime."

"Allow me to walk you there," Aughra said, standing up and lighting her lantern. "I'd love to meet your parents."

"I don't see why not," the child said.

The little gelfling walked to Aughra's side and took her hand. The swoothu, having emptied Aughra's waist pouch, scuttled away, back up the root. It disappeared into a little hollow in the root.

"Lead the way," Aughra said, leaning on her walking stick. She had walked all the way to Sami Thicket from Raunip's Cradle. She could handle another short walk to a house. Maybe they'd let her stay the night.

The child led the sage from Spriton Pavilion down one of the roads of Sami Thicket. They wove through the roots of the Great Tree that stood sentinel over the clan. The night air was still, the only sound being their footsteps and Aughra's cane tapping on the stone road.

"Tell me child," she said. "How long has The Gnarl Tree been like this?"

"You mean the little tree people?" she asked.

"Vindles," Aughra said. "Yes."

"A few days ago," the child started. "The little tree people came in a large, flying group. They eat all the leaves and take their place. Since then, the soil smells funny and sometimes the fields glow purple. And nothing tastes as good as it used to. Everyone's is afraid to eat anything now. My mum says not to go running through the fields anymore. But I love running through the fields."

"She has her reasons," Aughra said. "The world has changed. Become more dangerous for young gelfling such as yourself."

"But the skekSis are hidden away in their castle," she protested.

"Not the skekSis," the sage warned. "Something else. Harder to control than skekSis. Something I am here to face."

"We're here!" the child shouted. She let go of Aughra's hand and ran to a nearby house. She turned the handle and motioned for the old hag to follow her. Which she did. Aughra stepped into a little two story home. The main floor was a dining area attached to a large, well supplied, equipped, and stocked kitchen. A staircase led upstairs to what she assumed were bedrooms.

"Ma!" the child shouted. "I'm home. And I've brought a friend."

"Oh Cath," someone said from upstairs, footsteps coming down. "I've told you once before. You can't just bring people home without planning it with me. I can't take care of-"

The female Spriton gelfling stopped at the foot of the stairs, her mouth dropped as she saw who her daughter had brought into her hearth.

"If it's any trouble I can stay somewhere else," she said, turning to leave.

"No," the gelfling said, taking hold of her senses and beckoning her back in. "No, of course you can stay here. I'd be remiss if I didn't offer at the very least a hostel to Mother Aughra."

"Hmm," she said. "Well thank you."

"Cath," the adult said. "Run upstairs and wash up for dinner."

The child looked to Aughra, as if for permission, and she nodded it to the little gelfling.

"I'm so sorry for the state of things," the mother said. "I didn't expect visitors. Not that it would help if I cleaned up."

"Oh please," Aughra waved away. "I lived in a cave for a few million trine. And you have no reason to make things look nice for me. I'm an old hag in service to Thra. And you are Thra. It is I who should look better than...this."

"Please have a seat," the gelfling said.

The sage moved to a chair in the corner of the room.

"Don't mind if I-"

As soon as Aughra sat in the chair, her legs let go and she faded into a deep, meditative sleep. One she needed desperately.

Chapter Text

Brea swung at the dummy with her sword. One, two, one, two, one, two, three, five. It was different from sparring with a partner. No one to fight back, but it allowed her to practice swings to perfection. That was, until she trained with someone else and they showed how her strikes were off, or wrong. She stabbed the dummy through its core, a chest shot, and left the sword stuck in the stuffing. She stood there, panting from the continuous effort of swinging the blade. She stood, staring at the dummy, with the sword stuck in it. It looked gelfling in shape, and she felt for a brief second that she was training to fight gelfling. To kill them. And then, she saw her sister there, with the skekSis sword through her stomach. At that thought, she rushed forward and pulled out the sword, and the vision vanished.

She was pulled back from her vision by the strings of a lute being struck in a musical chord. Kylan had been seated watching her practice from a bench on the side of the sparring room. He had decided to tune his musical instrument while he waited, striking the chord when he had finally gotten it just right.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Did I disturb you?"

Brea used her sword to hold herself up, using it like a cane, as she caught the last of her breath. She looked back at the dummy, faceless but still in gelfling form.

"No," she said. "I need a break anyway."

Kylan continued to strum the strings of his lute as Brea sheathed her sword, unbuckling it from her waist and leaning it against the wall before sitting down next to the song teller. He continued to play a little tune that sounded familiar to the Vapran princess, but the name of which continued to evade her.

"What are you playing?" she asked.

He paused in his playing by laying a hand directly on the strings, cutting off the sound of the reverb. It left the air empty and still, begging to hear the song again.

"The Rovings of Gyr," he answered. "It's one of the longest songs we Song Tellers have. The story of his journey to find the most beautiful song for his beloved."

He picked the strings in a cadence.

"I think my mother used to sing that to me," Brea said. "When I was still a baby in the crib."

"Mine too," Kylan said. "Before she..."

The music from the lute faded into the silence. The air still wanted more, but it was a nicer way for the music to end and go out, rather than suddenly stopping like before.

"They both died when I was very young," he said. "Slaughtered by skekMal. I don't remember much, but that song still sticks with me. It's the only memory I have."

They sat in silence.

"I won't say I know what you're going through," he said, turning more towards her. "But...I can say that I'm here if you need anything."

Brea sat there, staring at the dummy in the middle of the room. She stifled her coming sob and swallowed. First her mother. Then her sister. Both within the span of a week. She hadn't had any time to truly mourn their loss. Everything had moved so fast. She wished she could confide in Seladon, but her older sister seemed...indifferent. Everyone mourns differently, but Seladon didn't seem to mourn at all. Which made the next thought more painful.

Brea still partly blamed her for their mother's death at the hands of skekVar The General. She stood by and watched, eagerly taking the throne. She then labeled their mother a traitor, denying her the basic funeral rites of any gelfling and burning her remains instead. She had sided with the skekSis over her family. True, she had seen the error of her ways, but the wounds of the betrayal were still there. And they still stung. The sadness and the anger became too much, and she lost her composure.

She cried.

Tears that had been held back finally broke through the flood gates. She was being allowed to relax and didn't feel the need to uphold her rigorous training, which she was realizing she had been using as a distraction to bury her true feelings. The stress also started to finally weigh in her, and the shard around her neck became heavy as if an entire landstrider were hanging from the chain. She brought her hands up to her face, hiding her weakness as she rested her elbows on her knees. Her chest and back heaved as the anxiety and panic set in from the over swell of emotion. The panic attack rose to take control.

And he put a gentle, caring hand on her back.

The panic suddenly subsided and she felt the pain from sobbing start to dissipate. Her breathing steadied and the quivering in her wings, that she didn't even realize was happening, subsided. They settled calmly onto her back and she lowered her hands. She leaned into the Spriton and he continued rubbing her back in a supportive gesture.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"No," she sniffed. "But I feel more settled. And at ease."

"Good," he nodded. "That's good. Holding in emotions does no favors for anyone."

Brea sniffed one last time and held the shard up to the light, wishing that she had never picked up the damned thing.

"Want to see something?" Kylan asked.

Brea looked at him and gave a small smirk with a little nod.

He set the lute down next to him and pulled out his firca from under his shirt. He took the carved bone in his hands, each chamber of the Y-shaped instrument in each of his hands. He inhaled and breathed into the instrument, starting to play Ode to the Low Tree. No sooner had he started to play, that the shard started to glow in Brea's hand. She quickly sat up and just stared at the purple glow. The rich, natural sound of the notes caused the glow to fade in and out with the melody. She looked to Kylan, who was just as transfixed by the crystal shard as she was. The music came to an end and the glow slowly faded.

"I found that it likes music," he said.

"And how did you...find this out?" she asked. "I keep it on me at all times."

"True," he said. "But when I do play my firca and you happen to walk by, I see the glow for just a second. Then you get too far and it fades."

"Just the firca?" she asked.

He nodded.

She looked at the shard again. It felt warm in her hand. Warm and heavy.

"Do it again?" she asked.

He smiled at her and raised the instrument to his lips, this time playing Beware of The Hunter. The crystal began to glow again. With light and warmth. And it started to buzz in her hand like a jar full of buzzing insects. She let go of her hold, cupping it in both of her hands, the chain still around her neck. She felt the buzz through the metal on her neck. It sent shivers into her spine and her nerves sat up on end. She was so transfixed, the rest of the room sank into the shadow of her peripherals. Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

"What was that?" she asked, breaking both her and Kylan's concentration. The music died and the crystal's glow, warmth and vibration faded away with it.

"What was what?" he asked.

"You didn't see it?"

"No," he shook his head. "I was focused on the shard."

She hung the crystal from her neck and drew her sword from its sheath against the wall. She turned to a darkened corner of the room, one the light wasn't reaching.

"What did you see?" he asked, drawing his own pair of knives from his belt.

"I thought I saw something crawl in through the window," she said, gesturing to the wall opposite them. "Taking a position in the corner."

"Could have been one of those damned fizzgigs," he groaned.

"No," she said. "It was bigger."

"Bigger?" he asked, fear creeping into his voice. "How much bigger?"

"Larger than a gelfling," she said. "Whatever it is, it had to squeeze through the little window from outside. It blocked the light for a bit."

Kylan audibly gulped.

"Arathim?" he asked.

"They couldn't fit through with their hard exterior," she said.

They stood there, facing the shadowed corner with weapons drawn.

"What now?" Kylan asked.

Brea slowly walked towards the corner, sword at the ready. Her heart raced a bit, but she didn't think it would be too bad. There's no way a skekSis could have snuck into camp, if they even worked up the courage to leave their castle. She reached the edge of the shadow and reached a hand forward, sword at the ready. Kylan tightened the grip on his own blades.

"And what is going on here?" Rian asked, walking down the steps into the underground training room. He wasn't in the full general regalia, dressed in his normal stonewood soldier outfit, minus the cloak hanging from his shoulders. The Dual-Glaive was also not on his person, which was a surprise to her. Looking at the two of them, facing the shadow, he was giving them a questioning stare.

"We thought we saw something crawl through the window and hide in the corner," Kylan answered.

Rian looked at the corner with them now. With directed purpose, he walked into the room, took a sword from the wall, and sliced into the corner. Brea gasped at the sudden movement, expecting to hear some creature cry out in pain. But there was nothing. He turned to them and looked them dead in the eye with a concerned face.

"You're jumping at shadows," he stated.

Brea moved forward and swung her hand through the shadow, still doubting there was nothing there. But alas, her hand waved through nothing but empty air.

"And before you were attacking things that go bump in the night?" he asked.

"Training," Brea answered.

"And you?" Rian asked Kylan.

"I was...watching," he stuttered. "Tuning my instruments and...all that."

"You can do that outside," Rian said with a side eye. "Where you won't distract Brea from her duty."

"I just thought that she would want some company," he said.

Rian nodded.

"Show me," the Stonewood warrior said.

He walked over to the dummy in the center of the room and moved it to the side. He then took its position, twirling his sword in his hand and spinning it in a flashy show as he walked.

"Both of us?" Kylan asked.

"In training for the castle guard," Rian said. "It's ten recruits in an every gelfling for themselves scenario. I can handle you two."

Kylan's two knives suddenly looked less vicious than they had before, and Brea faltered in getting into her battle stance. Rian would be a different kind of opponent. Dummies didn't fight back, and her teachers linked with The Ascendency took it easy on her. Rian was a fully trained, Stonewood warrior with tested and proven battle prowess. He could hold his own against a skekSis, able to hold his own against the likes of skekMal The Hunter and wound skekVar The General.

"I'll go easy on you," he smirked.

Brea and Kylan took up their positions facing Rian so the three of them made a triangle. The Vapran was holding her ground well given the circumstances and the Spriton was nearly shaking in his boots. The Stonewood on the other hand stood tall, calm, and collected, one arm behind his back with the sword in his other, hanging relaxed at his side.

"Go on," Rian goaded. "I'll let you make the first strike."

Kylan looked to Brea out of the corner of his eye. It was subtle, but she saw the signal. He feigned an attack and Brea lept into her own. Rian simply stepped out of the way. Brea then swung her blade at him again, wasting no time. With a simple move, he parried and made his own swing. Kylan made it just in time to shield Brea from his attack with both knives. The force of the impact sent the blades ringing out and the Spriton dropped them as the vibration became too much. Rian pulled his sword and stepped away, arm still behind his back.

Brea rushed at Rian with a flurry of slash attacks, and he deflected each with smooth confidence. Kylan jumped in, cutting with both his knives, and Rian parried each in quick, sudden succession. Brea took the advantage and attacked him from behind. He coolly sidestepped out of the way just in time for Brea's attack to clash with Kylan's and the two locked in place. Rian repositioned himself, and readied his sword again. Brea and Kylan broke off their locked blades and turned to face Rian once more. The Stonewood warrior stood at the ready, looking almost smug in his calm state of mind. It kind of infuriated Brea. It made her feel like she wasn't doing enough. She was going to change tactics. Hopefully Kylan followed her lead.

She didn't put much thought into her next moves. She just held onto her sword hilt and swung at the target. She let the blade guide her in her attack. She swung furiously, with little thought and Rian smirked as he danced out of the way, blocking every blow and strike with ease.

"Nothing like fighting a dummy," he jeered.

Brea broke off and Kylan jumped in with a similar slashing of his blades. Rian picked up the pace of his own sword swings to match the Spriton's attacks.

"You're offensive is good," Rian noted. "Footwork is a bit sloppy though."

Rian sidestepped and Kylan made to follow, tripping over his own feet and stumbling to the ground. In a move exactly like a dancer's, the warrior kicked the knives away before backing away from Brea's new volley.

"Your right foot never really lands on the ground," he pointed out to her, not even a little out of breath. "That's good. Your left however-"

He swept Brea's left leg out from under her and she fell to the ground with a thud.

"You put too much weight on your left leg," he said, standing over her.

Brea had recovered before she even hit the ground, and swung up at the stonewood soldier, who simply moved his sword over a few inches to block the attack. He didn't even draw back a little in surprise.

Brea jumped back to her feet and the two circled each other.

"I apologize for being a bit hard on you," Rian said, arm still behind his back.

"A bit of an understatement," she spat. "You've practically been hounding me ever since you became general."

"That's my job," he said. "I have to command the troops. All of them. And you being as, well, as insubordinate as you have been, doesn't help with their morale. And I don't need the soldiers to start picking sides between me and you for who's in charge."

Rian spun into his own attack, flying through the air like a tornado. Brea could only hold her sword in front of her as the blades struck, metal on metal. The singing rang through the space and it became harder and harder to defend against his unrelenting attack. Then Kylan jumped on Rian's back, pulling him backwards. Rian rolled with the grapple, out of Kylan's hold, leaving the Spriton there on the ground and he rolled up to his feet and shuffled backwards, both of them in his view.

"I understand the stress you have as Crystal Keeper," Rian said. "But you are a soldier first. You can't reunite the shard with the rest of the crystal if we can't even make it into the castle. I need my soldiers to trust me."

"And you can't do that if I'm questioning and disobeying everything you say," Brea finished.

"Exactly," Rian said with a nod.

The two rushed at each other and Kylan crawled out of the way as the two clashed in a fury of blades. Metal edge scraped on metal edge, causing sparks where their swords touched. Rian was still more agile than Brea, but she was getting into the swing of things, matching Rian's own eccentric flair. The two were now exchanging offense and defense, Rian would make some advancement and Brea would counter with her own. He still had his arm behind his back, until Brea pushed a bit too far, and he staggered. Brea saw his arm falter, and took the initiative. She bound his sword with her own and twisted it out of his hand. He tripped backwards onto his back and she held the sword to his throat.

"Yield," she said with a smirk.

"You've given up your footing again," he said.

She had a moment to look down before he swept both her legs out from under her, sending her to the ground with a crash. The force dislodged the shard from her necklace and it went flying through the air, scattering into the dark corner.

Tiredness saw an opportunity and swept in. She lay there in the dirt, breathing heavily causing her to start a coughing fit. Rian stood, taking up both their swords in one hand and extended a hand to her.

"That's enough practice for today I think," he smiled.

She hesitated another moment before reaching up and taking his arm. He hoisted her to her feet before returning the swords to their rack on the wall.

"I'm a quick study," Brea noted. "But to practice is a completely different story."

"Practice doesn't make perfect," Rian said, turning to her. "One of the first things my father taught me. Practice builds confidence. With confidence comes the knowledge and wisdom to think on your feet. A lot of fighting is made up on the spot. On the battlefield, perfectionists are the first to die. Followed by those without confidence. Then the true warriors test their metal."

Kylan moved the shadow and snatched the crystal back. He still didn't believe the dark corner was entirely safe, which is why he backed away from it until he felt he was a safe distance away from it to turn away.

"You might want to get a better clasp for that," he said, handing the shard back to her.

"Probably," she said. "I've been dropping it too much as of late."

She slipped the shard back into the metal clasp of the necklace.

"Come on," Rian said with a smile. "Join me for a drink at the watering tree? We all could use a bit of a break."

"I'm down," Kylan said.

Brea nodded and Rian took up a place between both of them, arms around their necks in a friendly embrace. They returned the gesture, Brea finding Kylan's arm behind Rian's back and the three of them walked up the steps out of the training room.

~~~~~

"There's something I've been meaning to ask," the Spriton said.

"What's that?" the Stonewood asked.

"How do Stone-in-The-Wood blacksmiths temper their steel so well?"

The answer was lost with distance. 

Not that he cared. 

From the shadow in the corner of the room, Raunip unfolded his illusion. If one were there, looking into the corner, it would have looked like he faded into existence from the very soil itself. He held his right arm, which had been cut and was now bleeding with his black blood. Nothing he wouldn't be able to recover from. He ripped a piece of cloth from his garments and used his teeth to tighten the wrapping over his wound. He then held up the shard.

He had nicked it from the Vapran when it had, by chance, scattered to his feet. A quick improvisation and he had switched it out with a similar looking purple quartz he had in his satchel. So long as no music was played through a firca near it, no one would even notice the difference. The so-called Crystal Keeper hadn't. He rolled the shard in his hand, feeling its power. He dropped it in his bag and cloaked himself in his illusionary magic, now strengthened by his possession of the shard. He tightened the scarf around his neck before climbing out of the basement. He scuffled up a tree, catching a few odd glances from those that saw the minor light refractions caused by his magic. At the top, he got his bearings. The Castle of The Crystal was his destination. Time to get a move on. 

Time to fix his mothers mistakes.

Chapter Text

Hup started the day being forced awake in his cage. A burning on the back of his head, like someone had set his hair on fire. He sat up screaming and heard evil cackling. He batted his head to put out the fire, but it wasn't there. The burning ceased and he turned to the room behind him. The three Stonewood gelfling that had kidnapped him stood outside the cage bars, watching him with wicked and malicious smiles. They were all dressed in the dark green garments they had worn the day they captured him. They held the doll with his hair woven into it and a candle.

"My turn," the youngest said, still crouched on the ground on all fours like a wild animal. She beckoned for the doll and the eldest sister handed it over. She then stroked a small length of hair that was wrapped around the doll's waist.

"Sleeeeeeep," she hissed.

Hup immediately became drowsy and fell back onto the floor, cracking his head against the wood before passing out.

He was woken up again, this time feeling as though his feet were on fire. He yelled in pain as he tried to stand, but hit the swollen bump on his head against the roof of the small cage. He grabbed his head as he fell back onto his rump with a bruising bump.

The sisters laughed louder. The youngest sister jumped around on her four limbs like a bovart. The eldest snatched the doll back and the middle sister extinguished the candle she was holding.

"That is enough, sisters," the middle said. "He is awake now. And we don't want to hurt him too badly. For then he won't be able to work."

"Indeed you're right, Heacana," the eldest said. "Now is the time he is put to work."

Hup sat in his cage defeated. He was in so much pain, and so scared he simply felt...paralyzed. Alone and paralyzed with fear, his fate at the hands of three cruel witches he could actually get a good look at. The youngest was in what she had been in before; No shoes, with a dark green under shirt and a coat over it, and a satchel strap over her shoulder with the bag sewn to her trousers. She had a whole slew of bottles and equipment sewn to her clothes, and more tangled in her white, dreadlocked hair.

The middle child was dressed like a Spriton housewife. She wore a plain, simple red dress with a white apron over it. Her hands bore tight, leather gloves and she wore a tall, brown pointed hat. Her shoes were made of a dark wood, loosely fitting around her ankles and every step she took echoed with a hollow, wooden clomping sound. Her sleeves were short and she had decorative stitching sewn into her arms like tattoos. The black skin-stitchings were symmetrical to each arm, the same patterns sewn in to each same section of arm. She had a design over her brow too, except this string was made from her own black hair. She had woven it into thread and sewed it in herself.

The eldest looked like nothing Hup had ever seen. She wore strange robes that seemed to shift their shape with each movement they made. The green shine of the dress seemed reflective, and might have been the cause of the ocular illusion. There was purple mixed in as well, along with golden embroidering and see-through sleeves. Physically she looked like a crone, the way she was hunched over with a crooked back and her fingers mangled together. A hooked nose shadowed her upper lip which, despite her smile, she always looked like she was scowling. Her dirty red hair looked like a blaze, but the oddest thing was that she seemed to have perfect vision. He could almost feel her gaze through the faded bloody wrapping around her eyes.

"Who shall have him first?" Heacana asked. "Feerena? Do the rakkida need feeding?"

"Indeed they do," the youngest said. "An excellent idea. Hand me the doll."

The eldest tossed the doll back to Feerena and the youngest crawled up to the cage bars. Hup still rubbing his head and keeping his fear in, backed as far away from the bars as he could.

"Listen podling," the youngest said. "This doll is linked to you. Your essence is bound into it and we can do what we wish to you through it."

She demonstrated by grabbing around the doll's throat and squeezing. Hup felt his breath get cut off and he gagged for breath. She let go and the air flooded back into his lungs.

"Understand?" Feerena asked. "Do as we say, and we shan't hurt you anymore."

"Anymore than we have to," the eldest said.

Hup breathed, too fearful to nod.

"Understand?" Feerena asked, pulling a curved sewing needle from her clothes and stabbing it into the doll's hand.

Hup felt a stabbing pain in the same hand as the doll, gripping it in pain and clenching a fist.

"Hup," he gritted his teeth. "Hup...underst...standosa."

"Good," the youngest witch smiled. She then unlocked the cage and opened the door.

"He is yours for the day Feerena and Heacana," the eldest said. "I have our other prisoner to take care of."

"Go sister," Heacana said. "Weave your influence. We will busy this podling with chores. And watch him closely."

"When the three brothers are highest in the sky he shall be yours," Feerena said. "Come podling."

Hup crawled out of his cage and dangled his legs down before dropping to the floor. His whole body ached and he didn't want to move or do anything, but the eldest sister got bored of watching him stand there and kicked him forward. It added to the pain and he just wanted to lay down in defeat.

"Patience Maida," the youngest said with a smile. "We have tortured him enough for today."

The eldest waived her away.

"You care too much for your pets Feerena," Maida said.

The eldest, Maida, walked off to the ladder and climbed out of the cellar.

"Here," the youngest said. "Eat this."

She handed the podling a snail shell, still occupied by the invertebrate. She sprinkled a fine brown powder on the shell's door, and the creature inside curdled to liquid. A horrid stench rose up to his nose and he felt he would puke. The middle child, Heacana, grabbed the podling's chin from behind, squeezing his jaw to force his mouth open. When that didn't work, she plugged his nose with the other hand. He relented and opened his mouth for air. The youngest, Feerena, shoved the snail shell into his mouth and dumped the contents down his throat.

It tasted how it smelled. Like bile that had been left to sour and dry before being soaked again with soured nebrie milk. It burned his mouth, throat, and sinuses making his eyes water and his stomach churned violently. But he didn't throw up, despite his strong urge and desire to.

"That should make your pain go away in a little bit," the youngest said, crushing the shell in her hand and tossing the pieces into a mortal she had in the bag on her hip. "I think. It works on howefrocs so it should work on podlings. It'll also give you enough energy to last the day. Don't worry, you'll still be fed even though you won't feel the need to eat."

She started to grind the pieces into a fine powder with the pestle, dumping the powder into a small jar that she pulled from a small sleeve on her lower pant leg.

Heacana let go of Hup's face with a push, sending him to the floor and tearing a few more strands of hair from his head.

"I will be mending the tapestry," she said. "I'll be down here most of the day. Bring him to me once you're done with him."

"Come podling," the youngest said, crawling to the ladder. "Up you go. And my sister is up there so don't even think of running. And yes. She can read thoughts."

Hup slowly let go of his stomach, which was starting to calm down. He slowly walked to the ladder and took hold of the wood. He looked over his shoulder at the witch, who shook the doll she had tied to her hip. He wasn't getting away, or out of captivity. He wouldn't accept that, but at the moment, he had to climb. As soon as she could, the witch started crawling up the ladder after him, close behind.

He opened the trapdoor and poked his head up in the corner of a simple log built house. He pulled himself up onto a wood-boarded floor with clay in between the gaps, sealed with what smelled like resin. The wood of the floor and walls was black and the entire space was lit by lanterns and a small fire in the middle of the single room. Looking up, there was no roof. Just an endless void that went up and up into darkness. He stood where he got out of the cellar and waited. He looked around for doors, windows, any point he could leave from, but there were only four walls. That was it. He thought it was night time, but what he saw was that the cabin was only four walls with no doors or windows. No way to escape-a searing pain in the side of his head at the temple, like someone digging a knife into his head. He grabbed his head in its pain and collapsed to the ground.

"Sister please," the youngest said, closing the hatch to the cellar. "It is natural for wild animals to look for escape roots. He can't help it."

The pain disappeared and Hup looked across the house to another corner. The eldest sister had materialized in the corner of the room. A long, scarred finger pointed directly at him. The scars looked self inflicted, made in the shape of sigils and marks all along her digits. Each finger actually had these marks. They were on her hands as well, backs and palms. She raised an arm to wave them out of her sight. The sleeve fell revealing that the scars were also all over her arms. Turning back to her own work, it materialized as she turned. A tall, round, large, iron, domed cage covered in a black sheet surrounded by a circle of splintered and chipped wood. Next to it was a table with unwrapped tools on top of it.

"Are we expecting her so soon?" Feerena asked.

"The bones don't lie," Maida said. "They told she will be ours today."

"I'll keep my eyes open."

Hup didn't see anything else before the youngest closed the trap door with a bang and crawled to a wall, ordering him to follow with a finger pointed directly next to her. He hurried to her side. She was still a horrible person, but she was the lesser of three evils in his eyes. If he at least stayed on her good side, maybe he would be alright. He honestly doubted if the other sisters even had a good side. The youngest would at least treat him like a pet. There would be some kindness in that.

He stood next to the crouched gelfling, who was shorter than him because of her being on all fours, and she took his hand. As soon as she closed her eyes, Hup felt sick as the world started to spin around him. Reality bent around them. There is no possible way to explain how it happened, but the logs split and unbuilt themselves. He felt a ringing in his head that he also heard in his ears. The air pressurized and light ceased to exist. Next thing he knew, he was outside in the morning sun.

The warmth beat down on his face and hands. The Endless Forest sang with life and he looked around. He was outside. He looked behind him and saw the cabin, its four windowless and doorless walls made of black logs with a thatched roof. The house sat in a clearing of the Endless Forest. The woods eased up a bit, but there were still small, younger trees that sprouted up from the ground. A stream flowed through the clearing, an offshoot of the much larger Black River. There was a path from where he stood that led straight into the wood with nothing growing on the tramped down path. A few odd wildflowers added some splashes of color to the area, though there was nothing to indicate they were purposefully planted there.

On the other hand, to one side of the path, there was a fairly large, fenced in area that was brimming with rows of complementary crops such as corn, beans, and squash. Another fenced area directly next to the other one, closer to the house, was filled with herbs and spices. Or so his nose told him. He noticed the cracked, flat stone in front of him. It looked like a sacrificial table, or a place one would lay offerings.

"Come along little podling," the witch said, crawling around to the back of the house. Hup wanted to just stand and absorb the sight. If he had been there under different circumstances, it would have been very pretty. But he wasn't allowed that luxury. Instead fearing for his safety as he followed the more animalistic witch.

"First order of business," she said as she rounded the corner.

Hup followed and froze. Behind the house was an animal pen with larger animals that she couldn't keep in the cages in the cellar. And for good reasons not related to their size. There was a small, open barn that they used as a shelter, lying down inside. At the site of the witch, the shadows stood and stepped into the light.

"Hello my pretties," she said, actually standing up and leaning on the tall, strong, deeply buried fence. Which actually showed Hup that she was the tallest of the three sisters, making the Heacana the shortest as the middle child.

Hup became frozen from fear at the creatures that walked towards them. The quadrupedal predators as large as a skekSis, but more bulkier in muscle, had a pair of small but powerful wings sprouting from their shoulders. An elongated, stubby neck hunched down from between the wings, settling the head at a place where the creature's balance wouldn't be thrown off by its tailless body. The face looked familiar, as the creature's skull had been worn by skekMal The Hunter as part of his armor. The animal's natural face was somehow twisted into a demonic, skeletal grin. Skin was pulled tight against its skull, and its front incisors clamped together at the forefront of their face, which was perpetually stretched into a look of pure malice. And now three of these monstrosities were walking towards them.

"Podling," the youngest sister called. "Meet Dokuch, Or'kul, and Droz. The three finest rakkida in the Endless Forests."

The podling stood where he was, too afraid of the creatures to move from his spot. Feerena took one of her long nails and dug it into the arm of the doll and podling lost all feeling in his upper arm as severe pins and needles set-in to his flesh. This prompted him to move forward and the pain went away. The youngest sister had raised her hand to pet the muzzle of the first hairless beast that hung its head over the fence. As he got closer, the other two lithe creatures took up places next to the first, and they looked at him with a burning hunger.

"I found them when they were just pups," she said. "Raised them their whole lives. And now, my sisters and I have loyal mounts, worthy of The Emperor himself."

Hup stood at her side and looked up directly into the face of one of the rakkida, which was staring down at him intently. A rather large drop of sticky saliva dripped from its mouth and landed on Hup's face. He wiped it off, looking away for the briefest of moments. The creature lunged down towards him, jaw snapping shut with a clap right next to Hup's ear, which sent him toppling over in surprise, and splattering him with more saliva. Feerena cackled in amusement, and when Hup looked up he saw that the rakkida seemed to be laughing with her, in the way an animal can.

"Stand podling," she ordered. "While an amusing show to be sure, I don't plan on feeding you to my pets. Not yet at least. No, but we are going to be taking care of them. You know, feeding, cleaning them and the pen, switching out their water. The usual."

Hup looked up at the creatures again. He dreaded even seeing them, let alone being in an enclosure with them.

"Don't worry," she said. "They're all well trained, docile, and domesticated. They won't hurt you unless I order them to."

As if to prove her point, she unlocked the paddock gate. The predators rushed to, but stood still at the entrance as if they were still barred from leaving. There was an eagerness in their eyes, and it was transfixed on him.

"You are far too small to help me with the meat," she said. "So you will start with the water, then move to the bedding."

Hup stood fearful at the paddock as the sister went to a shed next to the paddock, pulling a butchering knife from inside her coat. The little podling looked to the pen and up at the rakkida. Almost slyly, they parted a path for him to cross through. He swallowed and took one step forward. One of the rakkida snapped at him and he fell backwards into the dirt, further bruising his already bruised tailbone. The rakkida made a sound almost like laughing, before they all turned away to pace the paddock at their leisure.

The podling stood up and dusted himself off. He breathed in deeply, keeping a brave face as he stepped carefully into the paddock. They continued to watch him with their casual malice, but they no longer looked ready to pounce. Still, he kept along the fence, at the edge with his back to the wooden rails, keeping an eye on the creatures and ready to dive out of the way if necessary.

He made it to the water trough next to the small barn. It was way too big for him to tip it over and let it all out quickly. It was large and deep enough for two gelfling to bathe in, and the water weight would make it impossibly heavy for him. It reminded him of how truly weak and powerless he was in the situation. He didn't even feel like himself. The witches had taken all his belongings. He hadn't even noticed until now that he was in nothing but his trousers. His new weapons from skekGra, his hat, his red shirt with the small bits of armor he had on the right elbow and shoulder were gone. Even his spoon had been taken, heightening his sense of vulnerability.

The three rakkida had lay down on the farthest side of the pasture, closest to the shed the youngest sister had crawled into. Hup could hear the faint sounds of metal ringing on wood, as the witch chopped at something inside. The podling took the opportunity to turn his back on the predators, who were too interested in the shed to look at him. He looked in and saw the top of the water was coated in a heavy, thick slime which crept up the walls a little. The slobber from the creatures had condensed as the sun beat down, evaporating the water. Yet through this murk, he saw a cork. A stopper he could unplug to let the water out. But he had to reach down and through the slime to get it.

He looked back at the rakkida and the shed, seeing they hadn't changed at all. Hup looked through the fence to the wood, he could slip away and felt a burning in his temple again. He gripped the side of his head, but it kept burning and burning. As though a flat, hot iron were trying to push its way into his skull. It subsided and he opened his eyes, seeing he had collapsed in the dirt next to the water trough. He looked back into the woods and saw the eldest sister, nearly camouflage amongst the dark underbrush. She was staring at him through her bandages, finger extended. She raised this finger and waved it in a threatening, warning motion. She then raised a second finger before fading away, as if the woods swallowed her. Hup got the gist. Strike two.

He pulled himself back up and looked into the tub one last time. He swallowed the disgust and plunged his arm into the swill. He cringed from the feeling of the slime clinging to his arm. It made his core feel uncomfortable, like when wet, sloppy food touches you while cleaning dishes. But he pushed through and grabbed the plug, pulling it out. The dirty water started to swirl, draining out of the tub, down a hill, and into the small stream, carried away to the Black River. When the trough was empty, he plugged the hole again and wiped his arm off in the dirt. And despite how undignified it was, it had been the only thing he could think of to do to relieve himself of the discomforting moistness of the watery slobber.

Hanging on the nearest fence post was a bucket. Suspiciously perfectly sized for him. He squatted himself under the fence and took it off its hook. He then made his way down to the stream. He scooped up some water and found the wood wasn't entirely sealed properly, and it leaked. By the time he made it back to the water tub, he had lost about half of the bucket's contents. His task was already going to take much longer than he expected. This was going to make it more difficult.

His back ached and the monotony had numbed his mind. The muscles were starting to burn as he dumped the last bit of water into the trough, filled back to the top. He looked to the shed, panting and slightly out of breath as he hung the bucket back on the hook. Feerena had come from the shed and the rakkida were boisterously jumping about and rushing to meet her at the gate opening, causing a ruckus. The younger sister pushed a cart filled with a multitude of meat cuts and slabs of flesh.

"Wait!" she called, raising a hand, and the animals immediately calmed, still waiting with anticipation. She walked into the paddock, and dumped the meat into a pile on the ground. She then removed the wagon and closed the fence. Her eyes flicked to Hup, and her mouth curved up into a little smirk. The animals had gathered around the pile eyeing the pile hungrily.

"Eat," she said.

Like a swarm of flies descending on a carcass, the rakkida tore into the meat and consumed the pile voraciously. Blood spattered their maws and the sounds of ripping meat and grinding bones bore into Hup's ears.

"Pretty aren't they," Maida said behind him. He would have jumped and fallen over, but the middle sister grabbed and held him steady.

"She is quite fond of her pets," she said. "Very fond of them."

The grip on Hup's arm and shoulder tightened, and he feared his arm would pull from his socket.

"Sister!" the youngest called.

The middle sister released Hup as she screamed in pain, her arm twisted and bent behind her back. The rest of her body looked rigid and held firm against her will. The red cap fell off and Hup looked across the paddock to see the youngest was crouched back down, one arm to the ground as she reached over to her sister, twisting her hand at the wrist. As she turned her hand, the other sister twisted and contorted all the more.

"Get ye hence," she said. "I've not finished with him."

She gave one final twist and the other sister vanished.

"Dream projections," the youngest said, shaking her head with a frown. "Still, I got her though. She's more adept with her hands. My oldest sister's got a way with magical implements, but I? There is no other that can match my gift for drawing from 'the rips'."

She looked at her own hand, bending each digit and flexing the hand in its entirety.

"Come podling," she called. "We're to clean the paddock and replace the bedding."

This next task took the longest to complete. It smelled from the copious amounts of dung, but he had help this time. Feerena didn't mind getting her hands dirty, and helped Hup with this more strenuous task. However, it felt more like an owner helping a dog learn new tricks. It was...demeaning. She was still ordering him around and telling him what to do, showing him how when he got it wrong. Soon the hours ticked away and the pen was to Feerena's liking. She closed the gate and tied it shut behind her.

"Sister," she called to the house, holding out the doll. "He's yours. Bye."

In a second, Hup fell through the ground and into the earth, as if he were being swallowed by a cavernous maw. He yelled out in fright before falling onto the floor of the cellar. He felt a crack in his neck and reached to his vertebrae. It had been a simple popping sound, but his muscles also had been over extended and pulled.

"Ruined goods," Heacana said, standing over him. "It won't do."

She reached down and grabbed him by the arm, wrenching him to his feet. It spurned the pain in his neck all the more, and he yelled out in more pain.

"Oh quit your whining," she spat. "Curse these beings of Thra and their weak threads of flesh."

She grabbed a sinew in Hup's neck and pulled. The original tension tightened a moment more before it dissipated and faded into the rest of his body. His entire body slipped into calmness.

"Good," she said, dropping him back to the floor and jarring him from his tranquility. "You can start by sweeping."

He lay on the floor aching as a broom was thrown at him, clunking him on the head. He was going to have a huge lump by the end of the day. He pushed himself up and took hold of the broom.

"All the dust can go in that corner," she said, pointing to a particularly dark corner of the cellar. "Get to work."

She turned to go up the ladder.

"When you're done," she said. "Come up and you will sweep the upper floor."

She pulled herself up through the trapdoor and slammed it shut behind her. Hup stood and set the broom aside, leaning it up on a stack of empty cages. Now that he had a good look, all the cages were empty. Except his. There was a plate in his with a small, simple bread roll. And a small cup of water. He walked over and took both. The bread was near stale and tasted very boring and plain. The water wasn't even filtered and he had to pick and spit out pieces of dirt. He sat down on the floor, crunching into the bread and sparingly using the water to moisten the food.

To his left he saw the tapestry wall, holding the image of all the sisters. To his right was a small box, kept shut with a padlock. He took another bite of bread and saw his hat had materialized on top of the box. It would have surprised him, if not for everything else he had witnessed that day. He wasn't entirely sure what this was meant to be.

He stood and walked over to the box, picking up his hat to put it on. As soon as it sat atop his head, he felt a little more at ease. A bit calmed by the familiarity. He breathed and felt a presence. There was a sudden weight that bowed down on him. The dirt walls of the house became suddenly laced with glowing purple energy. He took a step back and heard scrambling on the floor above.

"Sisters she has arrived," the eldest called. "The tools are prepared."

"I'll start the cauldron brewing," the middle said.

"I'll prepare the mounts," the youngest said.

"No sister," Maida said. "We must make the arrangements first. Bind her to us in a more powerful fashion than the podling. It will require a great deal of power, in order to make her magic our own to control. Which will take time and focus from all of us."

"We shall take turns," the youngest said.

"Yes," the middle said.

"Let's bring her in," the eldest said. "She's cold, hungry and...needs a place to rest."

There was a loud, physical strain on the air. Like when he had been moved outside by the witch, but this was different. It felt as if the entire house above him lurched. Reaching out to grab at whoever they were talking about. Then the cellar became overgrown with glowing, purple veins. The Darkening weaved its way in with the speed of a lightning bolt and Hup barely had time to jump up onto the safety of a nearby cage before he was touched. No inch of wall stayed the same for long, as the energy pulsed and shifted. It rippled through the floorboards as the source sat now in the cabin.

"Mindful sisters," the eldest said. "She is overflowing with Darkening."

The eldest began to chant and the other sisters joined her. Curiosity got the better of him and the little podling walked over to the ladder. The strains of Darkening energy began to recede, as if being forced and pulled back by unseen strings. They all pulled back to a singular point on the floorboards above before flickering out. He climbed the ladder, hearing scuffling through the floor above.

"In the cage," the eldest ordered. "The sanctified cage."

Hup carefully, and quietly raised the trapdoor to look up into the cabin. He saw the sisters gathered around the cage the eldest witch had materialized with. The Darkening wrapped around the bars of the cage, rising to the metal roof like a burning purple fire. It lapped up into the void ceiling.

"Ferrum tenebrosum sicut abyssum," the sisters chanted under their breath, formed in a circle around the tall iron cage. "Unde es fabricatus es, obtine contra obscurationem et redde in vacuum campum unde venerat."

Hup's eyes widened as runes carved into the metal glowed and the fires quelled down, either absorbed by the iron runes or retreating back into their host, a gelfling curled up on the floor of the cage. She was weak, malnourished, and her near-white hair was looking like the youngest sisters. She gripped the bars in weakened pain, Darkening energy coursing through the veins just under her skin.

"Scalpellus ab alto Nil est," the eldest broke off, chanting on her own while she lifted a heavy, hooked knife she moved to the cage with the blade raised. "Nihil haesitans mea verba facit. Spes lucem captat, tenebras scindens, fatum pandens tuum. Sed spes est fragilis, pretiosa."

Deet raised her gaze to meet Hup's, her large, dark eyes filled with pain, fear, and not understanding what was happening, or why it was happening, to her. Alas he didn't know either. The Darkening was coursing through her body and her eyes teared with dark water.

"Excidemus igitur ab illa," the eldest said with a laugh.

The blade came down, through the bars and cleaving one of her wings from her back. The witches cackled in malicious laughter as Deet screamed out in pain. She reached around to her back, gripping at the wound as her face twisted in pain. The eldest handed the wing over to the middle sister.

"In lebete ulcus et bulla," she chanted, tossing it into a large black iron pot over a normal, roaring fire. "Penna dryadalis non facit aliquam molestiam."

The steam from the pot rose in a light purple color. Like gelfling's blood. Another wing was cropped off and the laughter rose to drown out Deet's screams even more. The other wing was tossed in the bubbling cauldron and the vapor turned to a darker purple. The witches continued laughing, and Deet screamed. Maida put down the knife and picked up a smaller scalpel. Hup couldn't hold it in anymore. He threw the trap door open and charged at the witches. He didn't know what he'd do, but he couldn't let this torture stand.

"Insolent germ," the eldest snapped, blind eyes turning to him. "Last straw."

She raised a hand and Hup was immediately frozen in pain. It crawled through all his nerves, burning him as if he were on fire. He screamed in pain and the witches closed ranks on him.

"A few moments in the void will solve your impudence," the eldest screeched.

A flick of her hand, jerking of her fingers, everything was gone. He floated in nothing. No light, no darkness, no gravity, no floating, no air, no empty space. Not even he existed, there was simply just...nothing. Terrifying for the first moment, then calming...because there was no him to feel anything. In fact, it wasn't even terrifying at first.

Just...

Nothing.

Then there was noise, and lights, and temperature and him. It was too jarring for him and he felt overwhelmed. He cowered away to the corner of his cage, where he had been placed back. He pulled off his hat and squeezed it the way a child holds a teddy bear. He wiped his nose on it and bit at the fabric while above him, the witches continued to laugh.

And Deet continued to scream.

Chapter Text

The swamps were thick and humid. Thick vines hung from the trees, looking like the Drenchen elves' dreadlocked hair, which was the point. A cacophony of animal and insect calls alike filled their ears as they trudged through the waters, which despite coming up to their knees, they were still dry. Drenchen clothes were made in such a way that they were naturally waterproof. And when a complete set was worn properly, one might have been able to swim underwater and remain completely dry, though no one had ever tried it.

Gurjin felt a light tickling on the back of his neck, causing him to reach behind his head and wipe away whatever it was. He brought his hand around and saw a spindly creature as big as his hand. Eight long legs grew from a small body, and a large, bulbous, black thorax hung off its back end. Like a small arathim.

"Great Smerth!" Gurjin exclaimed, flinging it into the swamp water.

"Oh come on," Naia said, carefully scooping the creature into her hands. "It's just a spider. And a harmless one at that."

"It creeps me out," he spat at his sister. "Isn't that enough? It makes my skin crawl."

Naia gently let the creature crawl up a nearby tree, lost in the canopy.

"Remind me again how you came to be a member of the Castle Guard," she requested with a sly smirk.

"You have trouble controlling your temper in the heat of battle," he said, snapping his own smirk at her. "It ruins your concentration and you give into raw, adrenaline fueled rage."

Her face melted into a frustrated seriousness.

"Two words sis," he added. "You're sloppy."

She turned away and elbowed him in the chest when he got close enough, sending him into the water as he doubled over from having the wind knocked out of him. The water didn't seep into his clothes, but the water was cold on his skin.

"And you little brother," she said standing over him. "All those years protecting the skekSis from absolutely nothing has made you weaker, slower, and much more arrogant."

She reached down a hand to help him up. He was hesitant to take it, but he did and she pulled him to his feet, helping to wipe the mud off him.

"Fighting again?" Maudra Laesid asked, walking between them as she trudged forward. "Not left alone for more than an hour and you two are already at each other's throats."

"They started it," they both said in unison.

Their mother just rolled her eyes, continuing to walk forward, deeper into the swamps. Her children just looked at each other and shrugged before following. The group had been trekking for a few days now, from Stone-in-The-Wood to the home of the Drenchen under the great Smerth Tree. There wasn't any fear, or worry. The skekSis were locked away in their castle. A null threat. At this point the resistance was just building a large militia to storm the Castle of The Crystal. While the skekSis were still cowering in their towers, no one had forgotten that nine of them had taken down the entirety of their own specially selected, highly trained palace guards. They wouldn't tell anyone this, but the general and the Maudra's were expecting casualties. The numbers were being inflated to cushion the inevitable blow. They needed some to survive. They were also preparing for the possibility of the skekSis evading their attack, by either fleeing or trapping themselves. They would then need the guards.

"Maudra Laesid!" someone shouted from the treetops.

The Drenchen Maudra raised her hand in a closed fist, stopping her troupe in their tracks as a Drenchen scout swung down on them from above.

"Drenchen," she greeted. "Well met."

"Maudra," they said, leaning on his spear out of breath. "I didn't think I'd find you in time."

The scout stood up straight and took a deep breath before gasping it out.

"Well?" she asked. "Speak."

"I was sent out to intercept you," they continued, though through strained breath. "Bellanji sent me to find you before you reached the settlement."

"What has happened?" Laesid asked, pushing through the circle of guards. "What has happened that my husband sent someone to find me before I arrive?"

The scout hesitated, doubling over in a coughing fit.

"Speak!" she demanded. "No. First, tell me about the rest of our family. Are my husband and youngest safe?"

"For the moment," he said. "They-"

"What do you mean for the moment!?" Naia shouted.

"They are being held captive," he said. "Them and the rest of the clan from Smerth-Staba."

"Captive?" Gurjin asked.

"If you could just let me talk!" the Drenchen shouted. "Let me finish what I want to say before you continue to blabber at me and ask questions that make my ears fall off. If you would just shut up and listen first!"

There was silence.

"I apologize for reverting to 'hard-talk'," he apologized.

"Forgiven," Laesid said. "Please, continue."

The scout waited a moment.

"A day ago," he went on. "A fleet of ships sailed into Sog down The Black River. They were warships, but Sifa in nature and we are in the middle of a war so we didn't think twice. We were unprepared when they opened fire on us with rockets. We were raided by Sifa pirates."

"Who's the captain?" Laesid asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," the scout said.

"I didn't ask if I'd believe it," she scolded. "I asked who it was."

"Fenth," he said. "It would appear he's resurfaced."

"That slimy little traitor," she snarled.

"He stationed his crew all over the settlement and has full control over everything and everyone that goes in or out," they said. "I had to wait until nightfall to sneak out at Bellanji's request."

"How many ships?" Naia asked.

"Three," he answered. "And they're big. I mean, have you seen a Sifa warship?"

"No others?" she asked. "The Drenchen are much more adept fighters than Fenth's band of pirates. Why didn't you take them?"

"He holds the tree," the scout answered, lifting his spear to strap it to his back. "He set up a system of explosives on Smerth-Staba's trunk. He himself stays on his boat, having an emissary on land who's ready to set off the explosives if we do anything. And if the tree falls-"

"Catastrophe," Gurjin said, jaw going slack. "Half of Sog lives in that tree. So many lives..."

"He waits for you," the scout said. "My Maudra. He awaits your return; he means to capture and enslave Drenchen."

The Maudra had a fury growing in her eyes. She gripped her walking stick until her knuckles went pale blue. She stabbed it into the mud with frustration that made her quake.

"No doubt he means to turn us into the skekSis," she said through grit teeth. "Win favor with them like Seladon tried to. We'd all be doomed. Naia! Gurjin! I need eyes in Sog. I need an update on the situation. To what extent has Fenth taken over. What are we up against?"

"Yes mother," Naia said with a nod.

"If you see your father," she said, laying a hand on their shoulders. "Let him know I am okay."

Naia nodded and Gurjin breathed a sigh.

"Why can't anything be easy?" he asked.

"We're Drenchen," his mother said with a smile, turning his face to her. "Doing things easy for easy's sake is an insult to our character."

Gurjin gave a small sad smile of understanding.

"Stay safe," she said. "Meet us again near Ipsy's Standing Stones."

"You stay safe as well."

"Gurjin I have some of the best Drenchen warriors with me," she reassured him. "And we all know these swamps better than any of those Sifa pirates. I know you worry, but believe me when I say I will be fine."

"Gurjin let's go," Naia said, walking past their mother.

He nodded, and walked past his mom to follow his sister back home.

"I'd strap your sword to your back," she said. "If we're going to sneak in, it's going to get in the way when we take the high-road."

Without looking back, she climbed up a nearby apeknot tree and was lost in the upper canopy.

"You could at least wait for me," he grumbled, untying his sword from his hip and strapping the scabbard to his back over his shoulder. He then followed after his sister up to the high-road canopy layer.

It was like walking through a tunnel of leaves. Apeknot trees were more vines that grew up and over each other, forming layers in the treetops. The high-road was one of these layers, used for traversing all of Sog with little resistance. And you could keep your feet dry. Sogbirds made their nests in this level and those above, filling the air with their whistling and squawking. Squiddleitch's would occasionally worm their way up to this path in search of lichens to feed on, or small creatures to hunt, though they usually stayed on the ground.

The vines and branches were meshed together enough that it was like walking on solid ground. Sure there was the odd hole or weak spot here and there, but the plants were mostly strong and wound tightly enough that it wasn't a real worry.

"First skekSis," Naia said. "Now a gelfling resurrection."

"Something's not adding up for me," Gurjin added. "Why Drenchen?"

"It's accessible from the Silver Sea by The Black River," she answered, pushing aside some hanging vines.

"No," he said, catching the vines before they swung back and hit them in the face. "From what I remember, Fenth staged tried to make a bid to be Al-Maudra. When his bid was denied, he made a move for Sifa autonomy and staged his insurrection."

"You forget he had full skekSis support," Naia sneered. "He could be hoping for that again. He brings in not one, but two gelfling clans for the skekSis to drain as an offering, asking for Sifa autonomy."

"In his mind it might work," Gurjin pointed out. "One gelfling clan out of their control instead of all seven. He may ask for an alliance."

"The skekSis will drain him too," Naia retorted. "Maybe not at first, use him to help bring in other gelfling. But in the end, they'll drain him too."

"It'll be weird," Gurjin said, changing the subject. "Going home and having to sneak around. Stay hidden."

"Sure," she said, not paying attention to him.

He caught up to his sister and matched his stride. He looked at her in profile, which was locked in a look he knew too well.

"Naia," he said. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," she snapped, eyes still locked out in front of her. She was deadlocked on what was ahead of her; getting home and doing whatever she was thinking. There would be no stopping her. And her mind was a vault. He wouldn't be learning anything further from her. She had always been hard-headed that way. They walked in silence for the next few hours, Gurjin constantly watching his sister for any kind of clue and Naia keeping a steely complexion the entire way.

"We're close," she said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Put your hood up."

She raised her own hood, shadowing her face as she wrapped her cloak around herself. He followed suit and the two became dark green shapes in the canopy. The cloaks made them nearly invisible. It matched the shade of the trees they went walking through. If they stopped moving, they were impossible to see. And that was the point.

Gurjin heard the sounds of Great Smerth, bustling with trade, kids playing, water splashing as fishers cast their nets. The ambience of his home faded into his ears as he reminisced. Naia grabbed a bundle of vines and pulled them aside.

The first thing that stood out to them were the three Sifa warships. Their sails were down, leaving the masts standing bare like skeletons. They floated still in the stagnant water of the estuary. The occasional small wave from the ocean would ripple in and send them tilting and bobbing through the brackish water. Great Smerth connected to the Silver Sea through two ways. A week long sail to the north up the Black River, and the other way only a few miles south, through the estuaries and marshlands. The Drenchen had spent trines of time digging deep channels so Sifa ships could access Sog for trade. That and the river was deeper as well.

They spotted some of the pirates on the ship decks, pacing as they patrolled and watched the surrounding city built into the trees. They bore spears, bows and swords. There was also the occasional pistol, probably signifying a higher officer. They were stationed around the roads and paths as well, mingled with the guards. These ones on land were dressed as the Drenchen guards, masquerading as members of the clan. Ready to jump the Maudra when she arrived. Not doing a good job of course. Aside from not even looking remotely Drenchen, resident gelfling cowered or jumped away at their approach. And they carried themselves differently than the real guards.

"Fenth's nowhere to be seen," Naia growled. "Most likely hiding in his flagship."

"Probably," Gurjin said, so happy to be home again he didn't really care about the state of things. The buildings and residencies built into the trees and vines without disturbing them was pure beauty. Fishers using nets and lines to catch their haul from the shore. Usually they would just dive in and catch them from underwater, but he was sure Fenth put some sort of ban in place of such things. Drenchen were fast underwater, and with their gills they could stay under for as long as they wanted. Stage an attack even.

Then his eye turned to his left, and he became teary eyed at the soaring, gargantuan tree of Smerth-Staba. Lights shone through windows and strings of lights adorned the branches and hung down, adding to the mystical wonder of the Swamp of Sog. Naturally hollow and the tallest tree in the entire marshland, it housed a large number of the populace. Gurjin may have understated how many gelfling could live in the tree when he had said half of the people.

Naia gave him a strong punch on the shoulder which broke him out of his daze.

"We are on a mission," she reminded him, releasing the vines and letting them fall back down to cover them again.

"Yes," he said. "Which doesn't require us to take down the entirety of Fenth's insurrection. We are to get a sense of how bad things are and then return to mother with our report."

"All those years at the castle have made you too dutiful and compliant," she snapped. "You never used to follow orders to the letter."

"Times have changed Naia," he snapped back. "I don't want to lose any more family of friends than I already have. There are only two of us and dozens of them. We would be walking into a gobbler pit."

Naia looked at him, a faint understanding coming to her face before she looked away, and the hard shell returned.

"I'm not leaving until I know our father and sisters are safe," she conceded.

"How are we to do that?" Gurjin asked. "Our home is at the top of The Great Smerth Tree which no doubt is crawling with guards from Fenth's crew. And that tree is set to explode and burn if something happens Fenth doesn't like."

Naia parted the vines a little and peered out.

"There are still more Drenchen guards than Sifa pirates," she observed. "If we keep to the shadows, we can evade them. We know the location more than they do."

Gurjin caved, peering through the vines with his sister.

"If we do manage to get to the tree," he conceded. "We'd still have to make it to the top without being seen. Which will get difficult-"

"The further up we get," she interrupted. "I know. I wasn't planning on getting to the top from the inside anyway."

"Well you can't climb to the top from the outside," he said. "Someone will see you."

"Not if we stay to the northwestern side of the trunk," she said. "There's no city or ships that could see us from there."

Gurjin sighed.

"Fine," she snapped suddenly, pulling away from the vines. "We'll go up as far as we can from the inside. Then finish the climb on the outside."

She stood and walked away in a huff and Gurjin was left alone at the vines. He sat up straighter and looked to his sister. She had pulled apart a section of vines and branches in the floor of the canopy they were in and looked down to the low-road beneath them before looking up to him impatiently.

"I'm not waiting for you," she said. "Either follow me or don't. Not my problem."

She dropped down through the gap, her cloak flowing after her. Gurjin hurriedly picked himself up and ran after her, dropping through the gap. He landed on his feet on a section of dock and staggered as he regained balance. He looked up and saw the gap he had passed through already healing itself as it closed up. He was then grabbed by the arm and pulled down behind a stack of crates next to his sister, who looked at him like he had grown another head.

"Do you want to get caught?" she asked.

She looked over her shoulder, around the stack of boxes. She waited for a moment as a patrol walked past their location.

"Hoods up," she said as she pulled him after her onto the dock. "Walk calmly."

Gurjin pulled his hood up and followed after his sister. They walked on the docks calmly and collectively. They passed merchants, guards, fishermen, small boat sailors, etc.. The settlement was bustling. They stepped off the dock and onto a street, the hollowed wooden thumps of their boots replaced with solid, strong steps on the cobbled stone and dirt pathways that wrapped all around the base of the Great Tree. Gurjin looked around him. They were everywhere, in greater numbers than he had previously thought. Pirates mingled amongst the residents. Drinking, eating, playing and gambling, though in their own groups and not mingling with the Drenchen. They carried themselves so much differently. They were rowdy, disturbing the other gelfling. Not even trying to blend in. Not that they had to. Before he knew it, they were in front of The Great Tree.

Gurjin looked up to the soaring megaflora like a child looking up to a god. The tree was just as busy as he had remembered from his youth. They stepped in through the soaring split in the tree's trunk, which acted as a doorway to the tree's inside. Bright and lively, he remembered everything. The smell of cooking fish, baking sweets. It awoke his inner child and he could help but smile as he looked up to the cavernous insides of Smerth-Staba and the large, massive chandelier of glistening gold, blue and green amber that hung in the center of the tree. He almost lost his sister, but hurried after her.

Halfway up the tall, spiraling wood pathway around the tree's inside and Naia paused. He stopped with her and she looked up the rest of the spiraling pathway.

"We may not need to climb the outside after all," she said, a small smile forming on her face. There were guards stationed outside their home. One Drenchen, and one Sifa pirate. No one was going up to them, but there was no blocking of the path. They could walk right up to the entrance.

"Do we look enough like Drenchen guards?" she asked.

"We better," he said, casting a weary eye to his sister.

She didn't even acknowledge his worry, simply pressing onward.

"What are we going to do when we-"

"I have that under control," she interrupted. "Trust me."

She bumped into a pirate, apologizing immediately and keeping her head down in falsified shame. It was subtle, but Gurjin had seen her pick a flask from the inside pocket of his coat. Another part of her plan. Keeping their hoods up, they climbed the rest of the pathway, approaching the two guards stationed outside the door.

"No visitors," the pirate said firmly. "No one is allowed in or out. I thought that had been made clear."

"Here to relieve the Drenchen of guard duty," Naia said.

The Drenchen guard visibly recognized her voice.

"I don't recall a switch of the guard being ordered," the pirate said, pushing himself from the wall and walking towards them, hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw. "Mind explaining what this is about?"

He was an inch from Naia's face, and she kept her cool. She flipped her wrist, releasing a blue sigil coin from her sleeve; two muski's circling one another on the face.

"Drenchen secret service," she said.

"What?" the pirate snapped.

In a moment, the Drenchen guard drew a dagger and slammed the butt-end of the pommel into the back of the Sifa's head, at the base of the neck. They crumpled unconscious and Naia grabbed them, the other guard helping her lean them up against the wall. She took the flask she had lifted from the other pirate, opening it and dripping a little on and in his mouth before setting it in his hand.

"That'll work for a bit," the Drenchen guard said. "Until the pain in his head wears off and he remembers he's not an alcoholic."

"Gaslight him," Naia said. "Lie until he believes the lie itself."

"Easier said than done," the guard said. "Where is Maudra Lae-"

"That is information I cannot disclose at this time," Naia interrupted, slipping the sigil back into the secret pocket in her sleeve. "Though I can tell you that she is alive."

"Thank Smerth."

"We need access," Gurjin said.

The guard looked up at him and back to Naia, who nodded.

"If someone comes I'll cover as best I can," they said.

"We won't be long," she said. "Thank you."

Naia and Gurjin slipped in through the door, closing it behind them. Nothing inside looked out of place.

"Hello?" Naia called. "Anyone home?"

"For the love of Thra!" someone exclaimed. "What do you want now?! Can you not leave us in peace for even a second..."

His voice trailed off as he came in off the landing overlooking the rest of the city. Gurjin was the one who took after him the most, in both looks and behavior.

"Naia?" he asked, carefully walking closer. "Gurjin?"

They both lowered their hoods and he took a half step back. A small smile creeping onto his face at the very corners of his mouth.

"Hi dad," Gurjin spoke first.

Bellanji's eyes widened and he covered his mouth with his hands. He stifled a little laugh before walking forward. Gurjin and Naia walked to meet him in the middle of the room. He took them both up into his arms as if they were still small children, laughing with small tears forming in his eyes.

"You're alive," he laughed through his crying. "I hadn't heard anything since you left for Stone-in-Wood."

"We're fine dad," Naia said, doing her best to not pull away from the fatherly embrace. Physical affection wasn't a thing she was a fan of.

Their father continued to hold them by the shoulder, but released the embrace. Holding them out so he could get a better look at them, beaming with tears streaming down his face.

"How are you?" Naia asked, getting serious again. "Where's Pemma and Eliona?"

"They're not here," he said. "Pemma wanted to go play with friends, and Eliona went with her to keep them out of trouble with, um...the new neighbors."

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"Bad," he responded, leading them to the balcony, which was carefully shaped vines and branches. "Iron grip on everything and everyone. We're expected to keep going about like normal business."

From the balcony, Gurjin looked down on all of Great Smerth in its brilliance.

"Where's your mother?" their dad asked.

"Not here," Naia said.

"Well that much I gathered," he retorted. "If the Muadra showed up here, now, there would have been much more of a stir than...well, nothing."

"Do you know what Fenth is planning?" she asked.

Bellanji smirked and chortled through his nose. He shook his head a little as he leaned back on the landing's rail of entwined branches.

"Little Naia," he laughed. "Always down to business."

Her mouth tightened at their father's teasing.

"There's a serious situation," she reminded him.

"I know," he nodded. "I know. Forgive me for being a father."

Her mouth tightened even more and she had to look away in a bit of shame.

"Mother is alive and well," Gurjin answered. "She's waiting for our return at Ipsy's Standing Stones."

"Thank Thra," Bellanji heaved in a sigh of relief. "If I ever lost any of you before my time-"

"Times like these are not for talk like that," Naia interrupted.

Their father smiled.

"So much like your mother," he chuckled. "I assume from your attitude that this wasn't meant to be a social call?"

She couldn't meet his eyes. She didn't want to be breaking her father's heart, but it was just how she was. How her mother had raised her for when she would take over as Maudra of the Drenchen. And being given the position that was head of the Drenchen's secret service only seemed to solidify everything about her cold, steely personality.

"Pirates are loud when they're drunk," their father said, crossing his arms. "I know they plan to take the Maudra prisoner as soon as she steps foot in town. They'll blow up the tree and imprison everyone else. Some deal with the skekSis."

"I told you," Naia said to Gurjin.

"There's also talk of a fourth ship," Bellanji said. "These three came the shorter way down the river. This one is taking the longer way around all of Skarith. Planning to come up through the marsh."

"Why there?" Naia asked.

He shrugged.

"Too big to come down the river is what I've heard," he said. "But they won't be able to take an entire clan without it. It's apparently the largest ship, and the flagship of the fleet."

"So Fenth isn't here?" Naia asked.

"No he is," her father confirmed. "But no one said he was in command."

Naia's face twisted in confusion.

"Who is?" she asked.

Their father shrugged again.

"Beats me," he said. "But what I do know is that if we're still here when they get here, we're done."

"Who has control over the explosives around the tree?"

He leaned in with a coy smile.

"No one," he said. "I had some of the secret service look into it. The so called explosives are duds. Empty. I doubt they even have any left after they wiped out the Sifa."

Naia's heart skipped a beat.

"The Sifa?"

"Wiped out," he confirmed, his face darkening. "There are only a handful of prisoners left, but the clan is gone."

"What of these pirates?" Gurjin asked.

They both looked at him with raised eyebrows and condescending, up-and-down glances.

"They sided with the skekSis," Naia said. "They are no more gelfling than I am a fizzgig."

Gurjin shifted uncomfortably.

"It's okay son," Bellanji said, patting him on the shoulder. "These are confusing times."

"So the secret service is still operating," Naia concluded.

"Indeed," Bellanji answered. "Ready to serve the Maudra."

"I may have a plan," Naia said. "But I need to run it with Maudra Laesid and the rest."

"So you came here to light the emergency meeting signal."

Naia nodded.

"Go ahead," he said with an air of passive-aggressivity, standing and walking back inside. "Best hurry. They might catch on to the fact that you're here."

Their father closed the doors behind him, leaving them alone.

"You don't have to be business all the damn time," Gurjin spat, going to follow after their father.

She turned to retort something, but the words fell back down her throat. He was already gone and she was alone on the balcony. She felt bad, and hated that she had to see her father again under these circumstances. But duty came first for her. And she had a job to do for the sake of all Thra. There would be time for family once this was all over.

She pulled out a striker from her pocket and opened up the lantern on the left side of the balcony doors. She lit the wick and closed the little blue glass door. The signal was lit. Time to see who would respond.

She opened the doors and saw Bellanji once again had tears in his eyes and he and Gurjin conversed.

"Gurjin," she said, as firm as she could without being too angry. "We did what we came here to do. Beacon is lit and dad, Pemma, and Eliona are safe. We should return to our mother."

Their father wiped his eyes.

"Will I see you soon?" he asked.

Naia nodded.

"And hopefully under better circumstances," she said. "Calmer. Where we can all be together as a family again."

He smiled at that.

"Do we just walk out the front door?" Gurjin asked.

"The same way we came," she confirmed. "Calmly and like we own the place. Because we do."

The siblings raised their hoods and made for the door.

"Stay safe," their father added right before they left.

"We will," Gurjin assured him.

"I love you both."

"I know," Naia muttered under her breath before stepping outside.

Gurjin held the door a moment longer before looking back to his father.

"I love you too dad," he said.

A brave face and Gurjin stepped out the door, leaving his father behind yet again. It wasn't any easier this time than any other time.

"We won't have to go all the way back to the dock," Naia said outside. "I know a shortcut."

All business.

Chapter Text

"I don't like how still the ship is," one of her cellmates said. "I'm used to it rocking and heaving, but the waters are too still here. Wherever we are."

"We're in Sog," Onica said, turning from the bars. "Can't you tell by the smell? And the sounds?"

"Plus the trip down the river," another Sifa sailor said.

"How did you know we went down a river?" the first cellmate asked.

"You call yourself a sailor?" the second asked. "You couldn't tell when our main propulsion became a current, and then when the sails went down? They also ran out some oars at times when the current became too weak."

The brig of a Sifa warship was like any brig. Cold, damp, dark, and in the deepest bowels of the hull. The salty smell of the sea had steadily been replaced by the muddy, mossy smell of the swamp. The fresh water was allowing the ship to sink a little bit deeper than it would on the ocean, and water was finding its way in through the tiniest of unsealed pores in the wood. And the heat of the marshes was turning up the humidity in the hull, making it a bit harder to breathe and a degree hotter.

"Do you plan to eventually break down the door by leaning on it all day?" the first gelfling asked.

"No," Onica answered. "No Belrig. I just don't like sitting in water."

"Shame," Rendent said. "It can be relaxing. And a little helpful in beating the heat."

The gelfling leaned back, dipping her back and head in the little inch of water before sitting up again in her place on the floor. She wrung out her hair before tossing it back over her shoulder.

"What time do you think it is?" Belrig asked.

"Noon?" Onica guessed. "It's too dark in here and I can't see the sun. your guess is as good as mine."

Onica was too distracted for any further small talk. She had been watching the guard intently. There was one of Fenth's pirates standing guard at the stairs leading up to the higher decks. Her head had been bobbing up and down for the past few minutes and she had heard the occasional snort or snore. She was dozing off and Onica was waiting for the snoring to be continuous, and for her head to be completely hanging from her shoulders in a deep sleep. And it looked like she was reaching that point soon. Minus the snore.

She took off one of her earrings and reached out of the cage. She tossed the jewelry towards the guard. It hit their boot before plopping into the water. The gelfling didn't make a sound.

"What are you doing?" Belrig asked.

Onica reached out through the bars and clapped her hands as loud as she could in two quick, consecutive slaps. They stirred slightly, but nothing more than that. She grabbed the iron gate door and hefted the metal, trying to lift it off the frame.

"Help me," she whispered to her two cellmates.

The other two gelfling stood and went to her aid. They pulled up on the door. They hefted and strained but nothing. The iron pins were too rusted to the hinges to come undone.

"Damn it," Onica grit through her teeth.

"A good try," Rendent said. "Any other ideas?"

She shook her head.

"If it worked on ours it definitely would not have worked on the other cells," Belrig said. "At the very least it would have greatly reduced the chance of it happening again for someone else."

"I was going to grab the keys," Onica said. "Just open the doors. The armory is above us. I would have gotten us armed and tried to at least take over this ship."

"You're trying," someone said from the cell next to theirs. "That's something. And we're all still alive."

"For how long?" someone called.

She heard heavy footsteps above her head. Everyone did, and they quieted down. They all recognized the footsteps made by the heavy boots and the gelfling that walked in them. The steps walked over all of them before stepping down the steps, lantern in hand as he stood at the foot of the steps. He looked down the row of cells and shoved the sleeping gelfling with one of his massive hands. This sent them falling into the shallow water with a splash and they sputtered and spat awake.

"Falling asleep?" the first mate asked. "On your feet and stay awake."

The first mate was a large, lumbering brute of a gelfling. He stood a good head and a half taller than a normal gelfling. He had to duck through all the doorways on the ship to avoid hitting the top of his head. His size difference was exemplified by how much muscle he had. He took advantage of his larger height and used it in building strength. Built like a house, he had the strength of four gelfling. He was intimidating, and knew it. His skin was decorated with piercings, scars and tattoos to add to the beastly illusion. Not that there was one his size, and if there was it still probably wouldn't have fit, but he wore no shirt. The only thing on his bare chest was the leather strip that held his dual axes to his back. A matching belt held his array of small pistols. And the dark pants and boots matched these well.

He walked down the row, using the lantern to see into each cell. Even his gaze had a forceful impact as his dark brown eyes scanned over every gelfling imprisoned. They all backed away from the first mate at his approach. Occasionally he would stop in front of a cell and lean in with a cruel smile as he lifted the lantern higher, getting a better look in the cell and giving the prisoners a better look at his face. He reveled in the fear he instilled until he got to Onica. She didn't flinch, or shy away from him. She just looked at him with indifference and that was all it took for his smile to fade away. He got a more annoyed look and leaned in even closer, giving her a little snarl as well. She had no reaction and remained steadfast.

"You have something right here," she jeered, rubbing the bridge of her nose where he had a line of piercings. "Might want to get that looked at. Could be contagious."

The first mate spat directly in her face and Onica sighed before using her sleeve to wipe it off. The pirate looked very smug.

"So immature," she jabbed. "Like a child."

His smugness faded away into frustration.

"Captain requests your audience for dinner," the first mate spat, getting more spittle on her face.

"So it's actually evening," Belrig said. "Guess time just moves faster when you're imprisoned with nothing to do."

"Silence traitor!" the first mate bellowed.

"Says the gelfling that slaughtered his own people," Belrig snapped back.

"Belrig, don't give him the satisfaction," Rendent said.

The first mate looked back at her, waiting for her answer. As if she had a choice.

"You can tell the good captain that I am disinclined to acquiesce to his request," she said, turning away from him.

"He said if that were the case I was to shoot you in the head and leave you as dinner for the swamp creatures," he retorted.

She stopped in place and turned back to him with a furious look of begrudging compliance. His face was plastered with a huge, toothy, malicious grin. He pulled out a pair of shackles and made a show of clicking them open. Onica stepped up to the cell door and stuck her hands through the bars and he slammed the metal onto her wrists. Given her pre-existing bruises, she had to grit through the pain when he tightened them as much as he could. But she showed no such pain.

The first mate unlocked the cell and dragged her out, slamming the cage shut again with a metal clang and a click as he locked it. She was then pushed along and up the stairs, out of the brig. They made their way to the deck, and the air was no less stuffy and humid out here than it was inside the ship. In fact, it might have been worse given the elements. The moon hung high in the sky, waxing crescent.

Dragged across the deck, she was barely able to keep up with the giant strides of the first mate as the shackles dug into her skin. She was dragged to the cabin beneath the quarterdeck, into the captain's quarters. The room was dark, lit by candles and candelabras. A table was laid out with fruits, vegetables, bread, and meats. Fenth was sat at one end of the table, hunched over and writing on a page. His large, wide brimmed hat was bowed, hiding his face. The large, flowery feather quivered and shook as his head darted about.

The first mate shoved her forward with enough force that she fell to the floorboards on her hands and knees.

Fenth stopped his scribbling and looked up, putting his quill down standing up, mouth opening in surprise.

"I don't believe I said to bring her here in chains," he said, aghast by what he saw.

The first mate looked up at the captain like a child that knew it was in trouble.

"You could show some decency to the prisoners," the captain spat. "They may be prisoners, but they are still gelfling."

"Sorry sir," the first mate said, bending down to unchain her.

"That's...captain," Fenth said through his teeth.

"Yes captain."

"Be gone," Fenth ordered.

The first mate left the room, and Fenth walked around the table, looking after him to make sure he left.

"My apologies," Fenth said, helping Onica to her feet. "His brutishness is all he knows. He could use a lesson or two in manners."

She allowed herself to be helped up, but no more than that, waving him away and stepping back. She had no intentions of being friendly, and she wanted to show that as clearly as possible. Fenth smiled, nodding in understanding as he himself stepped back from her.

"Please," he said, motioning to the table. "My gift to you for such a noble last stand."

"This couldn't have come after said stand?" Onica asked.

"You needed time alone with your thoughts," Fenth added, pouring himself a glass of port. "Besides, I didn't have the food or drink until we arrived here."

"Spoils of conquest?" Onica asked.

"Gifts from friends," Fenth corrected, sipping from his glass. "My crew and I aren't the only ones who believe in the skekSis' right to rule, and that this resistance of yours is futile."

Fenth took his seat again and grabbed himself two fish filets, digging in.

"Please," Fenth said again through a full mouth. "Sit down. Enjoy some of the shellfish and let us chat."

Onica massaged her wrists as she carefully stepped forward. The only other plate on the table was at the seat next to Fenth. The captain reached forward and spooned some urchin onto his plate, digging in with controlled gluttony. She grabbed the plate and moved it two seats down away from him so they were two seats apart. Pulling back the chair, she carefully took a seat at the table. Still hesitant to take the food.

"I didn't poison the food if that's what you're thinking," Fenth said, not looking at her. "I'm eating the food too, you know."

He looked up at her with amusement and a small smirk.

"This is better than any gruel the first mate serves you in the brig," he continued. "You must be hungry."

Onica couldn't deny that she was indeed hungry for food that was more than just sustenance. She craved flavor. Sweet, sour, savory, salty, all of them. Anything but the bland. And the aroma of the meal before her demanded that the food be eaten before it spoiled. The urge became too strong to resist. She put a scoop of kelp on her plate and took a bite. Then she broke.

She piled food on her plate like she hadn't eaten in weeks. She filled a goblet full of water and gulped it down before shoving food in her mouth. As she chewed, the flavors mixed and she closed her eyes to savor it as long as she could. She swallowed the huge mouthful and just sat there in the ecstasy.

"So," Fenth said with a sly undertone to his voice. "Who did you kill?"

The question hit Onica like a rouge wave and she paused, fork halfway to her mouth. She looked at Fenth and the gelfling looked back with a smug smile.

"Was it Kainan?" he continued, putting another bite of hooyim in his mouth. "Icthi? I already know. I just want to hear you say it."

"Damn you," she spat.

Fenth smiled before sipping from his glass. Onica lost her sudden appetite and set the fork down, pushing the plate away.

"Just curious," the pirate said, still picking away at his food. "You seemed...very ready to kill."

"We were ready to defend ourselves," Onica spat. "We didn't know it would be other gelfling killing our people."

Fenth faltered in his eating, as if didn't expect that response.

"What do you expect to gain?" she asked. "What do you think the skekSis will give you as a reward? The seat of Al-Maudra?"

Fenth groaned.

"I have no use for a now obsolete throne," the Sifa said, leaning back in his seat. "I have bigger ambitions. I plan on ruling the Silver Sea."

"The entire ocean?" she asked. "What of skekSa?"

"Semantics," Fenth waved away. "She'd have to bend to the emperor's decree and will anyway. They'll have Skarith, and I'll have the sea."

He stood and paced to a map of Thra, running a finger over the edges of the map.

"All of the sea," he continued. "Beyond the borders of the map."

"I take it you didn't summon me just to run through your plans," she said.

Fenth turned to her, his scarred face shadowed by his hat.

"A proposition," he offered. "The sea is vast. And I may have need of a few...lieutenants, if you will."

"We help you betray our own kind and then you'll grant us freedom?" she asked. "You'll negotiate with the skekSis?"

"It's the least I could do," Fenth continued, as he walked behind her. "Take it as a sign of respect for such a worthy adversary."

"And if I refuse?" Onica asked, slipping a knife from the table top and hiding it in the folds of her dress.

He grabbed the back of the chair and leaned over her.

"I'll only make this offer once," he said. "I offer you and your crew a chance at freedom. A chance to redeem yourselves in the skekSis' eyes. Loyalty to them doesn't matter once the resistance has been quashed. The ocean is vast and we could evade them for as long as we need. Join me. I would hate to see such a talented fighter go to waste."

He brushed her hair with his hand and that was the last straw. She pulled the knife and stuck it clean through his other hand into the wood of the chair, anchoring him in place. He shouted out in pain, trying to pull back but the blade held him in place. Onica jumped from her seat and across the table, grabbing a decorative spear from the wall. She spun around and faced him with the tip of the weapon pointed in his direction.

Fenth took a hold of himself and slowly, painfully pulled his hand free of the chair, standing up before yanking the blade from his hand. The first mate barreled into the room, one of his axes drawn and at the ready. He saw the situation and made to rush at Onica.

"Wait!" Fenth shouted, raising his injured hand and stopping the first mate. "She's armed and now a bigger threat than before."

They stood in a face off. Onica facing the pirates with her spear held in front of her. The first mate drew two axes and readied himself. Fenth bandaged his hand. In a sudden move, Onica jumped forward and swiped with her spear. The first mate went to duck, but she saw it coming and aimed at his head. With a crack she beamed him across the skull which sent him flying and now she was between the first mate and Fenth. The captain was now up and drawing his sword, but Onica was faster. She planted the spear in the deck and used it to vault as she kicked the sword from his hand and landed behind him. She grabbed Fenth and laid the spear handle across his throat, squeezing.

"Now I have a proposition," she said, not even out of breath. "I'll make our own freedom. Free my crew or he dies."

The first mate raised his ax, but saw there wasn't much he could do. Onica was perfectly positioned behind her body shield and no one could get to her without hurting the captain.

"First mate," she said in a warning tone, tightening the choke ever so slightly that the captain let out a strained cough.

Fenth nodded to his second in command, and the pirate sheathed his weapon, glaring at Onica as he left the cabin.

"You'll have to swim," Fenth said. "I'm not letting you take any dinghies."

"I don't want anything to do with you," she hissed. "Outside. Now."

She kneed him in the back and he winced in pain, complying as he stumbled out the door. On the deck, pirates were ready. The whole crew stood watching them, looking for an opportunity. But she wouldn't give them an opportunity, keeping her back to the wall and railing. The first mate returned holding a gelfling by their throat in his massive hand. Behind him the rest of the prisoners followed.

"Over the side," Onica ordered her sailors. "Swim to shore. Anyone makes a move to attack you and I'll kill their captain."

The Sifa scrambled to the edge of the ship and jumped off, splashing into the water below.

"Him as well," Onica ordered. "Let him go or-"

"No," the first mate ordered. "Release our captain first. Then you are free to go."

Onica held Fenth tighter as the captain seemed to struggle and break free.

"Give them the order," she snarled in his ear, adjusting the length of the spear so the blade of the weapon rested on his throat.

"Do as she says first mate," he ordered.

The first mate relented and dropped the sailor, who ran for the edge of the ship and dove over the side.

"Once you reach shore," Fenth said. "You'll be caught again. My men will see to it that you are all killed."

"I'd like to see them try," she challenged.

With a swift motion, she pushed him forward, dragging the spear edge across his throat and jumped, back flipping into the water below. Fenth would survive. She didn't have the angle or torque to inflict any serious damage, but he would have a small cut. Dove into the water and swam as far as she could under its surface. When she resurfaced moments later, she had swam a long way from the ship. She was impressed with herself. That was when the gunshots started.

The pirates started to fire on them with their pistols and the splashes showed where they pelted the waters. The Sifa that weren't hit by the bullets scrambled to the swampy shore. Onica stayed at the edge of the marsh, helping those she could. She pulled up a young gelfling female, and before she could react, a shot had pierced clean through her heart. Onica dropped the corpse and ducked behind a tree, catching her breath. There was a pause in the volleys and she leaned out from her place behind cover.

The pirates were reloading, and she saw that those who were on shore were starting to rush over to the location where the Sifa were escaping. Onica pulled the last gelfling from the water and pushed them into the marsh. She ran after them, following her crew as the next volley started. She felt a tear as a shot ricocheted through her arm and she dropped to a knee, but never stopped moving. From on the boat, the Sifa clan had escaped into the marshes and swamps of Sog.

Chapter Text

The knock on her door made her jump. The nebrie sinews she was stretching between the two limbs slipped and almost whipped her across the face. She heard it whistle past her ear as she ducked out of the way just in time. She remained still with her eyes closed until she was certain that there were no more moving parts. Carefully she opened her eyes and looked at the contraption she had held squeezed between her legs. The string was missing, flung to some far corner of the room. She heaved a deep, heavy sigh as another round of knocking stirred the still air.

"Come in," she said, lifting the device from her lap and setting it to lean against the chair she stood from. She adjusted her cuirass, pulling it down from where it had bunched up when she was hunched over the new weapon she was working on. Her brother stepped in and she smirked.

"It's you," she said, pausing slightly. "Are you a general right now or a brother?"

"Just checking in," he said. "I hadn't seen you in a few weeks, which, according to your fellow scouts in the ranks, is normal."

"A mix of both," she smirked. "Disguising duties as a general as the care of a brother."

Rian looked a bit hurt at his sister's banter. Mythra hadn't intended for her words to be harmful. It had been a long time since they had spoken and she was just trying to be friendly, in the way siblings would be. But they had been apart for so long, one at home the other at the castle, he must have lost that familial part of being in a family. Dad had been there, but from what she had gathered, it was a more professional relationship between a general and his troops rather than a father-son dynamic.

"Is that the latest of your tinkering?" he asked, nodding to the invention leaning on the chair.

"Yes," she answered.

"Mind explaining how it's more important than drills?"

She looked at him, not entirely sure how to take his tone. His face gave no indication of whether he was being sarcastic or-

"Genuinely interested," he clarified.

She smirked, walking over and lifting the contraption.

"How far can a bow shoot?" she asked.

"When handled by an expert Sifan archer?" he reasoned. "A target can be hit from 400 yards with the best accuracy starting at half that range."

"And how easy are they to carry?"

"Fairly easy," he said. "Sling it over the shoulder-"

"But how easily can you move with it?" he asked, pantomiming a demonstration. "While its slung over your shoulder and getting in the way of your legs and torso."

"Well usually archers don't need to move much," he said.

"But what if they could?" she asked. "What if they needed to?"

"What's it called?" Rian asked.

"I don't have a name for it yet," she said. "But essentially it's easier to carry, wont get in the way if you have to move quickly. I worked up a mechanism that makes it easier to draw the bowstring and releases it just as easily. I took a normal Sifan bowstring and doubled it back a few times until it was just the right length to fit between the two arms of the contraption."

Rian looked at the device she held with quizzical doubtfulness. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Mind a demonstration?" he asked.

"You're the general," she said. "I could demonstrate, or I could drop everything and go drilling, as you would request. Though Id have to get a new bowstring because the one I was using shot off somewhere, and is probably snapped in two, therefore no good anymore. I'd have to get another one."

Rian took his arm from behind his back and held the bowstring in his hand, still intact and all in one strand.

"Slid under the door," he said. "Will this do?"

She nodded and took it back. She set the mechanism and it took all her strength to lace the sinews just right to set the small bow fixed on the front of the weapon. Turning the mechanism, nearer to her and the mechanism's release, she drew back the now super tense sinews and aimed the imaginary arrow at a wall. She pulled the mechanism release and the bow snapped with enough force that she felt the explosive shudder in her elbows, shoulders and chest. Her back twinged a little and she held the contraption with one hand as she reached around to try and massage the pain away. The pain brought about a smile. It had stayed together, and therefore, it should continue to hold together and work.

"Got any targets outside?" she asked.

~~~~~

The arrow buried itself deep into the target, stopping when the shaft was halfway through the wood. The arrow had remained intact completely. In a swift move, she lowered the weapon, pulled back the string, and loaded in a new bolt. Another half second, and she loosed the arrow towards the target again. The previous bolt was split into two splinters.

"I will say that the accuracy is better," Rian said.

"That was a fluke," his sister scowled. "The main takeaway is speed and power, but-"

"It draws and fires at the same rate as a normal bow," he finished for her.

She nodded with frustration and just stared at the contraption.

"I wonder if I somehow added a switchback mechanism into the stock," she said, talking to herself. "Then all one would have to do is load in a new bolt without drawing back the string. And it would already be locked in place and the trigger would be ready. I don't know if there's enough of the stock and body to carve out for the new mechanism. Or if there would be anything left. I might need to just make one from complete scratch. Maybe if I made the arrows smaller. Shorter, stockier, easier to load. I could also make the arms shorter. It would make the crossbow lighter and easier to maneuver. I could also-"

"Your rambling sis," Rian caught her.

She caught herself, finger in her teeth as it always was when she was in thought. Breathing in deeply she sighed heavily before dropping her finger.

"I have work to do," she said, hefting the weapon over her shoulder and stomping off.

"Don't get discouraged," he called after her.

"I'm not," Mythra called back. "Just frustrated. And disappointed at myself for not seeing the obvious. Again."

He watched her walk off, fiddling with the contraption as she made her way back. To her workshop most likely. Her own little paradise away from everything.

At that moment a horn sounded and Stone-In-The-Wood became a bustling mess. Rian looked around at the gelfling rushing to weapons and shields. Some ran to the gate at the fence and began pulling back the doors as the horn sounded again.

"Maudra Seladon has returned!" the gatekeeper called as a caravan of landstriders galloped in. Two harnessed striders pulled a vapran carriage behind them, such a thing that Rian had never seen before. A coral white, tri-wheeled pod with two wheels at the front and one at the rear. It had a shape like the vapran palace and great library; a spiraling, cornucopia shaped, conch shell with the narrower part at the rear. The door to the carriage opened and the Maudra stepped out. The Librarian clambered out of the other side with a small chest, thunking from the sound of three padlocks that held it shut.

"Maudra Seladon," Rian greeted. "You're the first of the Maudras to arrive."

"Well," she said, looking around the fortress. "Seems I'm the only one with understanding of timeliness and the urgency of the situation."

"You're also the closest clan to Stone-In-Wood," the general retorted, in defense of the other clans.

Seladon's only response was an eyebrow raise and a slight face turn away from Rian towards the Librarian.

"I also have proof, found in the archives of the Great Vapran Library, on how to figure out who should be leader."

The Librarian came up to them and looked back and forth between the two, as if he had heard his name and was waiting for them to acknowledge him. But Rian was too busy trying to gauge Seladons intentions, and she was too focused on maintaining the authoritative edge in the situation. Neither of them really broke until Brea came forward.

"Seladon!" she greeted, breaking the Maudras steely gaze from Rian as she turned to face her sister.

"Brea," she greeted with a small but genuine smile.

The siblings hugged and the Librarian moved closer to Rian's side.

"You've returned," the youngest said, breaking off the embrace. "And so soon. I'm surprised."

"It took very little time to get able-bodied troops up and ready for war," she said. "They were ready before we even arrived. We could have left earlier, but I had made a promise to the other Maudras-"

"It was more of an agreement everyone made when there was none," Rian interrupted.

Seladon flashed a look at him, annoyed that he had caught her lie. Brea gave a quizzical look, not sure why there was already so much hostility between them.

"I'm assuming these are the laws you've found?" Rian asked, finally motioning to the vapran librarian.

"Yes," Seladon answered. "Again deep in the archives. Dating back, when was it again? Librarian?"

The Vapran suddenly realized he was being asked a question, and finally in the conversation.

"Oh, umm. They date back ages. Many, many trines. Possibly back before the Silver Sea Clan split into the Sifa and Vapra."

"May I look them over?" Rian asked.

"Be my guest," Seladon grumbled, eyes squinted.

The general motioned for the librarian to follow him into the stonewood palace and the Vapran followed close behind.

"I should follow," Seladon said. "Care to join me?"

"Of course," Brea smiled.

The two linked arms and hustled to catch up with the generals pace, which the librarian was also struggling to keep. Reaching the table of the Maudra council, the chest was dropped on the wooden surface with a heavy thud and the locks rattled with a metallic thunking. The librarian produced a ring of keys from his robes and began to jangle them as he opened the three locks.

"How is Ha'rar?" Brea asked.

"As beautiful as the day we left," Seladon answered, though her attention seemed to be focused more towards the box.

"And our people?" she asked.

"They are fine," she answered, attention still away from her sister. "No threat while the skekSis remain locked in their castle so life continues."

The third and middle lock opened with a metal clink and the librarian flipped the top of the box open. The hinges creaked and groaned with the movement until the top came to a stop. It was the kind of sound you could also feel until the rust in the hinge wouldn't budge, holding open the lid.

"Why so much protection?" Rian asked.

"It wasn't protection so much as we wanted to keep them all together," Seladon answered through barely parted lips and almost clenched teeth.

Rian hmphed as he pulled out the pile of papers that were held together with twine. He untied the string, flashing a look of annoyance at Seladon before looking over the document.

"In the event of war," he read aloud. "The Al-Maudra, having been voted in by all other Muadra from the other clans after the previous Al-Maudras death, shall take control of the combined armed forces of all clans, appointing her own general as she may see fit."

Rian paused and looked over the top of the paper at Seladon, who looked back with a face of bemused pride.

"If a unanimous vote can not be reached then the Maudra with the most votes will be placed in this position," he continued.

He flipped through the pages, skimming the contents as Brea walked over and picked up another binding of pages, leafing through them and the librarian became physically unsettled.

"Something wrong?" Rian asked.

"Nothing," the librarian said, a small liars smile on his face. "Nothing at all. Just tired from the journey."

Brea looked up from her reading at the vapran librarian, a look of disbelief that Rian didn't see as he had his nose in his own readings. The librarian's eyes darted to Seladon, who was still watching Rian read through the penned law. Brea looked to her sister with a hint of disgust.

"I think you should wait for the other Maudra to return," she said, placing her pile in the chest. "That way you can all look them over and discuss what to do then."

She grabbed the pile of paper Rian was reading and placed it in the chest before cloning it shut. The noise rattled in their ears and a pile of rust dust now sat on the table under the hinges.

"Agreed," Rian said. "Besides, Maudra Ethri was going to speak with the Sifa Elders to see if there was anything in their oral traditions."

"May I have a moment alone with my sister?" Brea asked.

"Of course," Rian said. "Librarian, mind helping me catalog and the new recruits?"

"Not at all," the librarian answered, eager to leave the room.

Seladon glared at the librarian in a threatening way as they left. When the door closed, leaving the two sisters alone, Brea spun to her sister with a look of disgusted disbelief.

"Really Seladon?!"

"What?" she asked.

"All the time I spent in the library and you think I wouldn't recognize the librarians handwriting?"

The Maudras lips parted before she snapped her mouth shut. Her eyes widened and the corners of her mouth tightened.

"I didn't consider that you would read them," she said with a small voice. "Brea actually scared her a little. Her demeaning tone was heavy and laden with disgust."

"So you just expected to walk in and seize power!?" Brea said, just loud enough that someone might have heard the outburst.

"It wasn't like that at all," Seladon pleaded, hushing her own tone to hopefully bring the volume back down.

"No? Then please explain it to me."

The Vapran Maudra stood in silence as she tried to speak. But nothing came out. Nothing she could say would make the situation seem any better.

"I am the eldest," she said. "By birth rite, the seat of Al-Maudra should be mine. The only reason I am not Al-Maudra right now, and my right to the throne is in debate, is because of this skekSis plot. I had the support of the Maudra majority."

"The skekSis plot to drain us of our essence!" Brea reminded her harshly. "The one you sided with over our own mother! And it's because of your decision, that she is dead!"

The accusation hung in the air like a slow acting poison. It bit. It stung. It ate away at Seladon's psyche and tightened the tension between them until it became palpable. The sisters looked at each other. Brea held her hardened face and Seladon's remained in frozen shock. Breas heart was pounding in her chest, and ringing in her ears. Seladon began breathing heavily, choking back sobs. If it had come from anyone else, the attack would have made her angry. Furious, even. But it had come from her sister. Her own blood. And that made her veins run cold. Brea swallowed.

"The time of the skekSis is coming to an end," she said, voice wavering. "With that, comes the end of their institutions. The clans should no longer stand divided. We need unification. No one clan is better than the other. We are all equal now. That means no Al-Maudra. If the resistance becomes divided, we will all fall."

"I did it for our people," Seladon tried to get out. "To restore the Vapran clan to-"

"Enough Seladon!" Brea yelled at her. A tear slowly started to seep from Breas eye. She wiped it away when it reached her cheek, looking to the chest.

"I won't tell anyone," she said. "But if you do go forward with this, I wont be a part of it."

Brea turned and marched from the room. The door slammed behind her and Seladon was left by herself. Alone.

"I'm just trying to-"

She cut herself off as she saw her reflection in a sword hung on the wall next to her. It had been for selfish reasons. And she hated herself for it. She grabbed the chest from the table and smashed it open. She shifted through the wood, numb to the splinters she was getting as she grabbed the paper and ripped them to shreds. She screamed in self-loathing. A pair of stonewood guards rushed in at her cries.

"Maudra Seladon?"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" she screamed through the tears.

They jumped back and hurried away.

Seladon sobbed, looking down at her, splintered hands. The shredded papers fluttered in the air like flower petals, some stained with the purple of her blood. She gagged on her tears as she heaved choking breaths. She wanted comfort. She wanted someone to tell her everything would be okay. That she would make it out of this ordeal alive. She wanted her sister.

But Brea had left, and she was alone.

Chapter Text

It had been hundreds, if not thousands of trines since he had last set foot in this castle. What was once a bright, shining, sparkling palace of crystal housing the Crystal of Truth was now a dark, dismal, shadowed fortress which acted as a prison for the only enslaved that mattered. The almost divine, alien smell had rotted away to a putrid degrading rot that festered whenever it entered his nose. The cold stone sent a chill up his spine just from looking at it. The only sound in the entire palace he heard was the sound of his feet on the stone as it reverberated around the hallway. The rattling sound of a cart started to echo towards him and he jumped behind a jagged pillar in the hall, cloaking himself with his magic. The bag on his hip vibrating from the crystal shard heightening his power.

A pair of podlings pushed a cart filled up with food for one of the skekSis lords. He watched the two servants push the food without uttering a word or syllable. They made no noise whatsoever. He watched as they turned the corner down the hall and he uncloaked himself. He was close. Very close. He could feel it through the cloth of his bag as it radiated up his leg into the rest of his body. It was electrifying, and warm. It felt like a warm embrace from home. A home that wasn't his, but one that embraced him all the same. He rounded a corner and beheld the chamber.

He remembered the chamber had been bright with a crystalline white glow. The light refracted through the crystal structures in the walls and foundations, creating a visage of perpetually endless rainbows. The walls sparkled and glinted in the light with the tiniest of imperfections, which made the entire castle look even more beautiful. As much as he despised the urskeks, their architecture was true art. It heightened the beauty and gave the Crystal of Truth a deistic presence.

No he just looked in on a dark, dreary room. Dirt had accumulated on the floor, sweeping around his feet with every step he took. The tiny imperfections had caught all the dust from the air. The rainbows and light were gone, replaced with nothing but shadows. He walked forward and ran a finger over the wall. Though seemingly flat, there were many small imperfections he felt. One caught his finger and cut open a small cut. He pulled away and looked at the wound. A small droplet of his blood formed and he wiped it off on his pant leg. Under the dirt and the dust he saw the rainbow now muted to dark swirls, which told him that there was more to the darkness than just the grime. He got lost in the mandelbrot swirls as they pulsed and shifted with life.

There was a sudden jolt on his psyche that he felt through his feet. It shuddered the air as the entire castle seemed to pulse. He felt the vibrations in his bag as the shard began to violently writhe. And soon Raunip saw why. Mechanical groans, and vibrations shook the floor and echoed in the stone room. Metal clicks of gears turning got closer and closer and he turned to the sounds, which came closer and closer from the pit in the center of the room. The Dark Crystal rumbled up from the pit, grasped in two metal claws underlit from the burning magma that boiled from deep under the castle. Smoke flowed up from under the desecrated deity stone and pooled on the floor around it. A purple glow faded in from deep within the crystal as a hum filled the now occupied space.

"Lets put an end to this," Raunip said.

He reached into his bag and pulled out the shard. The warmth became a demanding burn. It wanted to be rejoined. So, so badly. The push became a pull, and the pull became another push. The pleading became a begging demand. The Dark Crystal hovered over the pit, glowing and humming its own melodious tunes and rhythms. It slowly spun along its vertical axis, rotating until a glint caught Raunip's eye. A small, jagged divot where the shard had fallen out from when the urskeks cracked it many trines ago. An event he had warned Aughra about, and one he would now rectify for her.

He approached the crystal with reverence. Clutching the shard to his chest, the being carefully, and respectfully climbed up the crystal, wrapping his arms and legs around the stone as he shimmied his way precariously upwards, holding on for dear life and hoping his grip would last. He didn't want to make the long fall into the fiery pit of lava beneath him. Every time the shard in his hand made contact it buzzed a jolt of energy into his body, like a small shock of electricity. He made it to the top, sitting on the crystal as carefully as he could. He took the shard in his hand, and like a key into a keyhole, the shard fit perfectly back in place.

The humming died down immediately and the building energy he had felt the whole time dissipated into the ether. The Dark Crystal lost its glow and everything became silenced. Raunip sat confused, looking around the hall and back at the shard in its place. Nothing had happened. Or rather, the opposite of what he had expected to happen. There was no great, cosmic event from such a powerful entity being fixed. It had just...fizzled out. Now that he thought about it, he pulled the shard out for the empty crack in the crystal. It had lost its own humming, and electrical buzz. But most notably, it hadn't rejoined.

It hadn't rejoined? But why not? Why wouldn't it have rejoined? It had wanted to so badly before. Why had it suddenly just not? He tried again, and this time, the exact same thing happened. He tried again, and once again, the crystal failed to accept the shard back. Raunip leaned over the slot and looked in. No obstructions, and still a perfect fit. He tried again, and lo-and-behold, to no avail. He tried the shard every which way, but nothing.

"Well what in the name of all creation is wrong with you?!" Raunip demanded.

In his frustration, the shard slipped from his hand. His heart rate skipped a beat and he watched it fall, but he breathed a sigh of relief when it landed on solid ground rather than plummet into the magma chasm below. He felt the weight of the crystal shard in his hand. It seemed heavier than before. Could have just been from the loss of vibration, but the shard seemed dulled. Like it had lost its energy and will, the way a child does after they didn't get what they wanted.

"Why?" he asked, rolling the shard in his fingers.

The crystal gave no answers.

There was a sudden loud bang on the stone and Raunip jumped back into a shadow in the corner of the room. He masked himself with magic and stood completely still. No one was in the room. Another loud pounding of staff on stone broke the silence and the son of Aughra held his breath as a skekSis entered the room through a doorway next to him. The robes were so close he could have touched them, and the skekSis slammed their staff on the floor again, almost hitting Raunip's toe. It missed him by a hair. skekZok had no idea that he was even there.

Raunip watched the ritual master enter the room and tapped his staff on the stone in three forceful bursts. Gears in the wall began turning as podlings cranked mechanisms. A hole opened up in the ceiling and light poured in from the full moon high in the sky. The ritual master laid his staff on the ground in front of him and knelt in front of the crystal. He folded his hands in reverence as he bowed his head and closed his eyes. Hoping he'd be undetected, Raunip shuffled his way to the archway.

"Why do you skulk about in the shadows?" skekZok asked.

Raunip froze.

"Yes," he said. "I'm speaking to you. You who creep through the walls undetected."

Raunip held his breath, and was a second away from revealing himself before a massive, much larger shape unfolded from the wall next to him. The magicians illusion unfolded from the wall and a massive skekSis pulled itself from a hidden opening in the wall. Raunip held his breath as the skekSis, 2-3 times the size of skekZok crawled out like some nightmarish hellbeast adorned in robes that looked exactly like the night sky.

"Ritual master," the larger creature greeted in a low whisper.

skekZok opened his eyes and looked directly at Raunip. The look portrayed one of confusion. He had not expected the larger skekSis to be in the walls and had been addressing Aughra's son. Black skekSis had no idea Raunip was there, but skekZok had. Just when he thought his cover was blown, skekZok turned his attention away from Raunip, and focused on the massive figure before him.

"How did you know I was watching?" the larger skekSis asked.

"I heard your breathing skekLi," the ritual master said.

"You are a terrible liar," the larger beast said, as he slinked around the crystal chamber, tail dragging after him as he walked on his two hindlegs.

Raunip bit his lip as the tail wrapped around near Raunip's feet.

"The Crystal told you," skekLi said, tail leaving Raunip's feet. "Did it not? Don't tell me you didn't feel that a few moments ago. The harmonious humming. The trembling of anticipation. The vibrations of a trembling timeline waiting for the future. Hoping. Reaching out."

"I did," skekZok replied. "That's why I came here in the middle of the night. To consult with the crystal."

skekLi settled down on his haunches across from the ritual master, the crystal between them.

"Have you considered my offer?" he asked, looking down over the crystal at the ritual master, still knelt on the floor.

"My decision is still pending," skekZok said. "Personally, I care not who is the emperors right hand. So long as the emperor remains seated."

"Still investigating on your own?" skekLi asked, a cruel smirk creeping onto his face as his fingers curled up on his knees.

"I still have my doubts," skekZok answered. "While what you accuse skekSil of is damning, and would call for a fate worse than death, you still have yet to reveal yourself to all skekSis. I keep your secret but, if your evidence is so damning, and if you truly believed the risk, why not bring it up with the emperor directly?"

skekLis fingers tucked into his hands making tight fists and his smaller vestigial arms were crossed so much it looked like it hurt.

"Think for a second," he growled. "If I showed up out of nowhere, accusing the second most powerful skekSis of treason and skekicide with no one on my side and very little evidence to back up my theory. . .well. . .you can imagine the thought that would go through everyones head."

"Who stands with you?" skekZok asked.

"skekTek is the only one who believes my story," skekLi answered. "But hardly a viable political alley."

skekZok exhaled and stood, taking up his staff.

"The crystal remains silent," the ritual master said, tapping his staff on the stone. The gears turned and the opening closed.

"Will all be well for skekNa and skekSa's arrival?" skekLi asked. "I also noticed skekUng and skekShod have yet to partake in a ceremony of the suns."

"The emperor has requested we don't hold the ritual until all remaining skekSis are home," skekZok explained.

skekLi relaxed his tense fists and shook out his body, letting loose a few of his black feathers. The larger skekSis stood and walked back towards Raunip.

"I return to the walls," skekLi said. "Keep your eye on the chamberlain. I've seen him ogling the throne more and more every passing day."

The lumbering figure folded back into the hole in the wall, and the illusion rolled back in place. skekZok closed his eyes and listened intently.

"He's gone," he said. "The satirist can't hear."

Raunip felt confused.

"Come out please," skekZok asked. "Don't make me force you out."

Raunip had a second of hesitation before dropping his illusion.

"Raunip," skekZok greeted. "It's been a while."

"Indeed," Raunip said, still unsure of the situation.

The two stood in silence, Raunip gripping his bang and skekZok leaning on his staff, neither one making a move nor a sound. Raunip swallowed and stood more at ease. skekZok remained leaning on his staff as he simply looked at Aughra's son, a tired glint in his eyes.

"It was you," skekZok said. "Was it not? The crystal responded to your presence after so long away. Like a pet happy to see an owner."

"Perhaps," Raunip said, rolling with skekZok's assumption. "I simply wanted to see it after so long and when I saw it, those odd feelings started."

skekZok nodded.

"That must be it then," he said, still looking very tired. "Why do you return? Why after so long?"

Raunip made to answer, but held his breath. This resulted in a hacking coughing fit as his scarred lungs revolted against the lack of air and the disrupted breathing rhythm. He had been dying to cough the entire time, but had held it all in. Now it all came out, painfully yet relieving.

"I see," skekZok said. "The harsh Fields of Fire proved too harsh for even the Makraks. A shame. A pity."

In his coughing fit, Raunip took a half step towards the door. skekZok had no physical reaction other than a blink.

"You can't stand to be in this place any longer," he said.

Raunip made to protest, to cover his true intentions, but was cut off by more coughing.

"There is no need to hide it," skekZok said. "You despise us, I know this. You simply came to see the crystal."

Raunip nodded, still coughing though now under his breath and not as loud.

"Then be off," skekZok said. "I grant you this one audience with the crystal and that is all. I know the side you would take in this war. Return again though, and you will be imprisoned. The scientist would love to study a specimen such as yourself."

Raunip made a gracious bow to skekZok, heaping it full of sarcasm before turning and leaving, crystal shard still in his bag. He caught his breath from the coughing fit and cloaked himself again to leave the palace. How much luck did he have left?

Chapter Text

Maudra Seethi knelt before the effigy of the Crystal of Truth, eyes closed and head bent in silent prayer. The Wellspring Cloister was now empty and silent. She was alone in the cavern temple. The only other with her was Rek'yr, but the sandmaster was out by the cloisters entrance in his role as her personal guard. The priests were down in the Wellspring itself, helping the Dousan clan pack up so they could move to Stonewood. She hated to leave their home, the place they had spent cultivating and building up, but upon her return she had found her settlement gripped by a blight, and the oasis was drying up. This was the only course of action to save her people, and she was now praying to Thra that they would all be alright.

"Maudra Seethi," Rek'yr called.

The Maudra opened her eyes and looked up to the effigy. The translucent crystalline structure sat silent and still in its hollowed out cove, and Thra remained silent to her prayer, giving no indication. In her reflection, she saw her one guard and closest advisor standing behind her at the entrance of the crystal chamber. He had a new scar that ran from the side of his head, over his eye, to the corner of his jaw. A reminder of his brush with skekMal.

Are we ready? she asked in vojeye, the Dousan sign language.

We are, he replied. Permission to speak in common?

"You may," she said, standing and turning to face him.

"Is this necessary?" he asked. "The Wellspring has had its fair share of droughts in the past. We've survived through all of them, we could make it through this one."

"The waters have receded way below the safety limits," she said. "There is not enough to make it through the drought season when it does come. Besides, we needn't stay here and suffer prolonged as we have in the past. Especially when we have allies who can help us."

"But this is the land our ancestors cultivated," he argued. "We are the ancestors of Chal and Kataal. Our people carved these halls. Built this city. We made the unlivable a paradise for our people and now we're just going to up and leave?"

Maudra Seethi inhaled and breathed out calmly, switching back to vojeye.

You broke vojeye in the presence of your Maudra, she signed. That's a start, no?

Rek'yr bit his tongue behind his tightly pulled lips.

I understand you're scared, she signed, stepping closer to him. But these are desperate times, which call for desperate measures.

He looked down, shuffling his feet and crossing his arms. She stepped close enough that he would see her hands.

The world is changing, she signed, causing him to look up to her. Can you not taste it in the water that gives us life? See it in the shifting sands as they shift our landscapes? Smell it on the winds that carry our breath?

She took his hands in hers and gave them a heartfelt squeeze. Her reassurance was returned in kind though he was still unsure. And it showed on his face.

What once was is now no more, she continued.

All the more reason to preserve it, he said.

Our way of life is preserved, she said. In the carvings of these ancient halls. In the history penned by our people, which we will take with us. A new age is dawning, and with it we must change our own way of life or be lost in the dunes of time.

Not everyone sees it that way, he responded.

It will take time, she signed. It will be difficult, but we will prevail.

He let go of her hands and rested his own on his hips.

"I'm still unsure," he said.

She let one arm drop and the other wrapped around herself, grabbing her upper arm.

"So am I."

Rek'yr looked up at her in astonishment. The Maudra, all of them, very rarely showed any form of weakness. A trait that came with the position. Whether due to personality or a mask they wore, most Maudra's were seen as pillars of strength and guidance in the clans. The sandmaster was now seeing the true Seethi. She was just as worried as he was, if not more so. History had a tendency to look at and judge leaders more often. Decisions made now could have drastic consequences later in time.

"Perhaps you're right," she said. "Perhaps this drought will pass like the others. But part of me feels like it wont. As if something else is at play here. I don't want to make the wrong decision. But I'm not sure which is the right one."

There was commotion heard that echoed in from the entrance of the cloister.

Wait here, Rek'yr signed as he jogged back the way he had come in.

Seethi went to follow him but she was stopped. A faint light glinted behind her and a low hum reverberated through the stone chamber. She turned to look at the effigy, which was now no longer translucent. The hole in the roof of the cavern was now aligned perfectly with the Dying Sun which now shone directly onto the crystal. A rainbow of colors swirled inside its crystalline form. So many, and so compacted, that it just looked white. But she could see the colors. And from the colors came shadows, which took odd forms. Her heart quickened as the vision from the faceted stone came to her. The shadows danced, taking the form of gelfling and skekSis in battle. Sifa locked in combat with other Sifa, a skekSis shaped shadow looming over them before they all swirled away and were replaced by insectoid creatures. They looked like arathim as they scuttled a battlefield, laying waste to gelfling soldiers. Then a massive skekSis shadow reached out a claw to her, aiming to grab her throat before the sun moved on and the vision released its grip on her.

She was left gasping and clutching her throat on the floor she didn't even realize she had fallen to. She sat up as the last rays of the Dying Sun moved on and the rainbow of colors faded from the crystal replica. She rubbed her throat, as if the shadow skekSis still had a grip on her. The one thing that stuck out the most was the arathim like warriors, wiping out legions of gelfling with ease. It was only a shadow, as most of the prophecies that came from the crystal effigy. They weren't as clear as Mother Aughra's or the actual Crystal of Truth, but they were there. Then more dread sunk into her heart as the crystal began to glow a dark purple glow.

"Maudra Seethi!" Rek'yr called as he rushed back in. "Something's-"

He was cut off when he stepped in and saw the effigy. The purple swirls got thicker and heavier. The air in the chamber got heavier and thicker until the crystal cracked. It cracked and cracked some more.

"Look out!" Rek'yr shouted as he dove for her. At the last second, he was able to grab and shield her as the stone shattered. Sharp jagged pieces flew out as a purple shockwave cut through the air from the epicenter of the explosion. Seethi was frozen in shock and Rek'yr stood protecting his Maudra. Neither of them saw, or noticed the small wisps of purple haze enter the sandmaster's nose as he inhaled.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I am," she answered. "Yourself?"

He nodded, pushing himself off the wall and brushing himself off.

"Does this have something to do with what happened outside?" she asked.

"It does," he said.

He led Maudra Seethi from the cloister and out to the ledge that overlooked the Wellspring oasis. The Maudra looked out over the secluded Dousan city and out to the Crystal Desert. What she saw shook her to her core.

The massive crystals that gave the Crystal Desert its name were one by one shifting color from white to purple, as a wave seemed to sweep over the sands. The Darkening crackled through the stone and sands loud enough to hear. The wave got closer and closer and closer until it reached the oasis edge where it abruptly stopped. There was a moment of silence as the hush of uncertainty that could be felt through the entire city.

Breath, Seethi begged of the desert in her mind. Anything to relieve this tension.

We are packed up? she asked.

Yes, Rek'yr answered. Ready to leave at your word.

My word is given, she replied.

She walked down the path to the main gathering of her people. The Dousan had packed up rations for the trek across the desert to Stonewood. They would travel on foot most of the way. Crystal skimmers werent designed for much weight, meaning they would be used by guards for vigilance and protection. The only animal used for transportation would be the Maudra's daeydoim, which she would ride leading her people until the edge of the desert. The crowds of gelfling families signed or murmured as she walked to the front of the procession. Some things were good, others not so polite. She kept her head held high until she made it to the front.

Your mount my Muadra, Erimon signed, motioning to the creature. It was being allowed to drink from the last of the wellspring, which was now looking like a small pond at best, as opposed to the large lake that it normally was. The sandmaster whistled and the creature was gently pulled away and led to the Maudra.

Before mounting up, Maudra Seethi looked to her people. They looked back and she stepped up on the closest wagon of supplies. She felt the gaze from the hundreds of gelfling as they all looked up to her. The weight began to settle in and she took a deep breath.

Dousan, she signed. I understand your fear. I understand your weariness and uncertainty. Some, I have seen, label me a heretic. And part of me is inclined to agree. I mean to move the entire Dousan clan from our homeland. From the sand dunes we call our home. Our way of life is going to change. But these are dark times. You saw the change in the crystals. This land is now cursed and we must survive. It would be a dishonor to our ancestors to die here and leave the Dousan culture to rot away with time.

She looked out over the crowd and saw understanding creep in to some of the faces.

No longer are some gelfling more equal than others, she continued. There is now only one gelfling clan And in the same way they need our help, we need theirs. No gelfling must be left alone. A new age is dawning, and with that, a new way of life will come to fruition. Perhaps we may return to this desert when the skekSis threat has been dealt with, and the Darkening blight is swept from our lands. But what is most important now, is survival. And the Dousan will survive.

The speech seemed to bolster her people. Some clapped, some shrugged. But the overall morale seemed to have improved. She stepped down onto the daeydoim with the help of Rek'yr. She took up the reins and spurred the six legged creature forward. The procession through the desert started. A kilometer or so out, Maudra Seethi turned to look at the Wellspring one last time before moving out of sight and into the uncertain future. She wished she hadn't. For what she saw destroyed any hope she had of ever returning.

The massive Great Tree was glowing purple with Darkening energy. The entire tree had dried up and was now flaking away. Bit by bit the tree fell apart as it died. The leaves fell away and the branches shriveled up. Oszah-Staba was dead. And the Wellspring was no more. She couldn't help but look as the last black bits fell apart and the trunk of the tree crumbled, lost behind the horizon.

~~~~~

The first night away from home, the Dousan clan set up a small city of tents. Multiple fires were lit to help keep them warm in the cold desert night. The Maudra sat circled with her sandmasters as they discussed all that was unfolding and what they could expect in their travel.

Well continue to Stone-in Wood, Seethi signed. Let the daeydoim and crystal skimmers go free. The desert is their home, and that is where they belong.

The Crystal Desert was our home as well, Erimon rebutted.

"No more Erimon," Seethi commanded, talking to prove the seriousness. "We have left the Wellspring and we can not return. You saw the tree. We gelfling can survive anywhere. We are Thra."

The creatures on the other hand are designed and accustomed to the desert specifically, Rek'yr signed. Taking them into the forest would mean their death. They could not survive without our help and all resources and efforts need to be towards defeating the skekSis and restoring Thra.

Erimon rolled his eyes and clasped his hands on his knees, a sign of not speaking further.

There is the matter of not being able to retrieve desert resources, another sandmaster signed.

We can still return to the desert to harvest urdrupe berries and crystal weed, Seethi said. I am not forbidding the Dousan from reentering, just moving the main hub of our people to a safer, more stable environment for the time being.

And when the skekSis have been defeated? a sandmaster asked. What about afterwards? Will we stay and become Stonewood as well?

The world will need restructuring for gelfling, Seethi said. All gelfling must be present to rebuild infrastructure in a way that benefits all gelfling. Dousan will have a say.

There was a commotion at the edge of the Dousan camp and the Maudra, along with her sandmasters, all stood up simultaneously to get a better view. Some of the guards to the east were shouting and gathering around one point. Something big was flailing about, caught in a net.

Sandmasters, Seethi signed. Escort me please.

The Maudra and her sandmasters walked through the encampment towards the shrieks of the creature and occasional strained grunts of the soldiers trying to keep it tied down. The creature was flailing with multiple arms that would reach out and pull up ropes that had been staked into the ground. The noises it made varied from high pitched shrieks to low guttural growls; like it had two sets of vocal cords that acted simultaneously.

We caught two, your majesty, a soldier signed. They were trying to sneak up on our water stores.

Two what? Rek'yr signed.

As if on cue the nets and cloth was torn up with a scream that shattered the still night. All gelfling took a step back in fear and shock as the creature was revealed.

"skekSis!" someone screamed.

The soldiers brandished their weapons, closing in on the two creatures and holding them at spear and sword point.

"Not your enemy!" the skekSis screamed. "Gelfling friend! We are friend of gelfling!"

Seethi clapped her hands and the guards stood their ground. Their feet dug into the sand and the skekSis' quieted down. They were dressed in tattered, desert worn robes. Their skin was cracked and burned by the three suns. They looked like they had been traveling for days.

"Please," the skekSis continued. "We are thirsty and near death. We need water. If not for me, at least for my counterpart."

Seethi looked closer and saw that one of the skekSis was different. They had a smoother complexion, with ridges and angles not as sharp as the other.

"Hard...to...breath," this other one said, slow and almost monotonous.

Its a mystic my Maudra, Rek'yr signed. A mystic AND a skekSis traveling together?

Seethi looked at the skekSis, who was looking at her with a begging look in his eyes. He gripped his throat and kept his mouth sealed. Trying to keep all the moisture he had.

One sip of wellspring water, she said. Each.

My Maudra I must protest, Erimon signed, but was cut off when Seethi grabbed his hands. The equivalent of being forcefully shushed.

One sip, she signed. Enough for one word.

Erimon nodded in understanding and motioned for some guards.

She stepped forward, between two soldiers and looked up to the skekSis. The flash of her vision played before her. Particularly the one were a skekSis shadow reached for her throat. She swallowed and held up her hands.

Do you understand vojeye? she signed.

The skekSis reached up and jiggled a massive spike he had driven into his skull.

Little, he signed back. Basic.

Seethi took a breath. The other Dousan around her were obviously uneasy with a skekSis knowing vojeye. But she pressed on.

We give water, she signed, as if talking to a small child. One sip for one word.

One? the skekSis asked.

Speaking waste of moisture, she continued. Words must be deliberate.

Last word? the skekSis asked.

With purpose, she said. Lots of consideration.

The skekSis nodded in understanding.

Continuing, he signed.

You get water, she signed. You tell one word for life.

The skekSis raised an eyebrow.

You are skekSis, she signed. skekSis lie. At war. Need one word not to kill.

The skekSis eyes widened with both shock and understanding.

Think as long as you need, she signed. But you prisoner and one sip for one word.

Understand, the mystic signed slowly. One...each?

One each, she signed. One word of purpose.

Seethi motioned for the water to be brought forward. The two gelfling cautiously stepped forward. One poured some water into a cup and held it to the skekSis. He took it and poured it in his mouth, relief sweeping over his face as he handed the cup back. Seethi was surprised when he didnt swallow. He just swished the water around his mouth and held it there. The same was done for the mystic, who took his drink slower, but did the same thing as the skekSis.

One word, she signed.

Rest? the mystic asked.

With the daeydoim, she signed.

The guards marched the skekSis and mystic through the encampment to the small pen that had been set up for the daeydoim.

Watch them closely, she ordered. I dont like it anymore than you do. But a skekSis traveling with a mystic is not a common occurrence. And they didnt attack us, or force our hand, or anything of the sort. Im giving them a chance.

A chance that will get us killed, Erimon signed.

A look from Seethi was all that was needed.

~~~~~

She didn't get any sleep that night. Her vision plagued her mind and prevented her from drifting off to the world where dreams took place. Anytime she closed her eyes, it played against her eyelids and the skekSis shadow loomed over her and grabbed her by the throat. She struggled against the hand, but to no avail. Then she would wake just before the embrace slipped over her consciousness. The night slowly turned to morning and the Maudra stepped from her tent onto the cold sand. She looked over the dunes and felt the winds whip through her hair. She breathed in and just felt everything around her. The cool air on her skin. The sand grains in between her toes and the warmth of the sun as it slowly rose over the horizon. Then something caught her attention.

A small disturbance in the air pressure. She felt it come on suddenly. The air became heavier. The wind died down and the warmth faded. A distant explosion and she opened her eyes, snapping to look in the direction it had come from. A lighting storm was bearing down on them. Flashes of electricity struck the ground, charging up the sand and crystals, causing lighting to shoot back up into the sky. The violent winds kicked up a sandstorm that was barreling towards them with alarming speed. No water would fall in this storm. Though they only lasted an hour, or half that, the storms could still inflict massive amounts of damage.

"Storm!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. "Storm!!!"

The camp began to stir as everyone woke up and rushed to tie down everything. Tents would be closed the entire duration and the Crystal Skimmers and daeydoim would be cut loose. They may return, they may not. Stores were tied and weighted down to prevent them from being blown away or lost to marching dunes. The Maudra herself rushed about with her sandmasters, helping them to speed up the process. Until she looked over her shoulder and saw the storm was on top of them. A sudden gust of wind blew her off her feet and she fell to the ground. Covering her face with her arms as she hunkered against the violent hurricane of lightning and sand. The wind was now abrasive, needling her skin wherever she had any showing. She risked a peak out of her arms and got an eyeful of sand. She buried herself in the shifting sand to prevent herself from being blown away as the wind roared through her being. The power of a lighting storm was not something any gelfling was built to handle. The wind speed, combined with the sand, could erode even the largest crystals down to dust in the matter of a few minutes.

She heard massive explosions all around her as sand and chunks of crystal exploded around her, flying through the air as shrapnel from this natural war of wrath. Praying to Thra that she wouldnt be hit. But that was the least of a gelflings worries. She felt the charge. The lighting continued to strike around her with the wrath of a thousand gods and she felt the sand sticking to her. Her scalp began to tingle and she felt the ground heat up. Over the explosions and ripping of the wind, she heard the ground begin to hum. The crystalline structures in the ground were beginning to heat up, and she could feel it through the sand. A massive explosion sounded to her right and she flinched as the splinters of a supply cart landed all around her. The ground was fighting back against the storm that raged in the sky. Even with her eyes closed she could see a light starting to build up underneath her. A charge was forming. She dared no move, for if she stood up, shed be pulled away by the wind. She screamed over the storm and was pulled away at the last second.

She watched as she was pulled through the air away from her spot as a massive crystal jutted up from the ground, exploding out of the sand to shoot a massive tree of electricity back up into the sky. The sand around the stone melted from the heat and cooled in what looked like a splash of water. Her savior landed and pulled her underneath their frame. She was sheltered as they used their robes as a makeshift tent, which they buried into the sand. The storm continued to rage, but she had a shelter. Explosive lightning continued to strike as the wind tore through the desert. Seethi locked eyes with the skekSis, who was hunched over her, arms dug into the sand as his tattered robes acted as a barrier. The sandblast from the desert ate away and the skekSis dug his arms in deeper and deeper, his main priority keeping the Maudra safe. Within a few minutes, the skekSis' outer robes were tattered, but he stood strong against the storm. Seethi sealed her eyes so hard she started seeing stars as she clasped her hands and prayed.

And just as quickly as it had swept in, the storm had passed. Seethi looked out from the skekSis' protective huddle. The skekSis uncurled and stood, shaking the sand away from the clothes he had left. The Maudra looked over the destruction and devastation. They had lost tents, and therefore gelfling. There were some bodies. She couldnt tell if they were dead or just severely injured. It wasn't looking good. Especially since they had lost their mounts, making sure theyd move slower, and a large amount of supplies had been blown away and lost.

"Maudra," someone shouted.

Seethi looked at the call.

Thank Thra you are okay, Erimon signed. He paused when the skekSis stretched, standing to their full height.

He saved my life, she signed.

He looked at the skekSis, still cautious.

Whats the damage? she asked.

Rek'yr is taking a count, he responded.

Help him, she ordered. Time is now of the essence. Tell the clan to start packing as quickly as possible.

He nodded and rushed back into the fray. Seethi saw the mystic making its way among the gelfling, helping the injured where he could. His slow, methodical hands helped to painlessly set bones so that other gelfling could splint. He helped electrical burns with a paste from a satchel around his neck.

Help, he signed as he stepped away towards the gelfling.

"Wait," she said.

The skekSis turned to her.

"Thank you," she said.

No need, the skekSis signed.

He pointed to himself as he signed, Heretic.

He then turned and left her to help the Dousan recovery effort. He hadn't even said a word.

Chapter Text

Hup bit at the stick in his hand. He didn’t know how long he had been enslaved here. Time seemed to bend differently, and reality was at the whim of the sisters. During his imprisonment he had watched the sisters carefully, learning all he could about the house and grounds. Plotting and planning for this night. He had been able to sneak a few twigs from the broom bristles on his last outing to clean the sisters’ house. How he hadn’t been caught smuggling them was a miracle. He twisted the last sprig into the bundle he had been making and bound it together with a few strands of his hair. He moved to the cage door and reached through the bars, around to the lock.

Inserting the bundle into the metal mechanism, he jostled the makeshift lockpick. Not too hard, worried that the metal would break the woven stick of thistly sprigs. He felt the mechanism and began to twist, trying to open up the padlock. He heard and felt a snap.

“Fasbo,” he cursed under his breath.

He pulled out the twisted bristles and inspected it. The pick had snapped off and the entire pick fell apart in his hand. He pulled the broken off part from the lock and sat back in defeat. He picked up a small nebrie bone and began gnawing the small bit of meat and cartilage off one end. He lost himself in the biting, trapped in thought as he bit into the bone too hard and it snapped. The shard stuck into his tongue and he pulled the bone out. Reaching up and feeling the small piece in his tongue, he pulled it out and tossed the shard aside. It landed next to his foot, a tiny droplet of blood soaked into the hard sponge of the bone needle. He tasted blood as he sat there, sucking on his tongue. Looking down at the bone he still had in his hand, he ran a finger along the jagged edge of the broken piece. It felt like the metal jagged ridges of a key.

He jumped up and made his way to the lock once more. He tried fitting the broken end into the lock, but it was too big. He stuck that end back in his mouth and began to chew. The bone was tough. But Hup knew that a cooked bone was weaker than a raw one. He gnawed and chewed at the splintered end, his teeth straining in his skull as the force required to bite forced them to their limit. He spat out a few splinters, a splattering of blood purple blood seeping into the hay around them. His mouth was bleeding, but he’d be fine. He stuck the bloodied end of the bone back into the lock. It was a bit smaller than the keyhole, but that was what he wanted. It gave him more room to wriggle the pick around.

There was a sudden, loud creak above his head and he froze. The silence crept in and his breath sounded like a howling wind. He listened intently. The tiniest of sounds from above and he would hide his makeshift lockpick in his hay bedding. He sat completely still for what felt like hours. The only sounds being his own breath and heartbeat, as it thudded in his head. Hearing nothing more, he continued fiddling with the lock.

He tried to find the sweet spot. The place where he could get the latch and turn it open. It was proving difficult. The lock was made of solid metal, and the mechanisms were rusty. Even if he found it there would be no guarantee that the metal would open easily. His whole arm, wrist and hand was at an odd angle to reach the keyhole, adding another ‘maybe’ to the equation. As in maybe he wouldn’t be able to turn the lock with his arm positioned like it was. Then the pick clicked in place. It had found a groove. Hopefully the one that opened the latch. He pushed and pushed, grabbing the back of the lock with his free hand to give more force to the torque, praying that the bone wouldn’t snap on him too.

A sudden jolt and the bone twisted, the metal giving a little squeak as the rust finally gave way. The podling breathed a sigh of relief. He twisted the pick and the lock opened with a soft but grating click. He pulled the lock free from the latch on his door and opened the cage. His heartbeat quickened in excitement as he dropped down to the floor. Stealthily he made his way to his things, hung on the hook in the wall. He pulled the sword and slung the bow over his shoulder. Strapping the sword belt around his waist, he pulled his cap on his head and breathed in. He grabbed his trusty spoon, and tucked it into the sword belt.

Turning to the ladder he grabbed the rungs and began to climb. He pulled himself up, stepping onto the wood and pushing his way up the ladder. Not looking down he climbed hand over hand, foot by foot up towards the hatch in the floor above. He climbed and climbed, but as he got closer, he felt further away. He looked to the hatch and it looked no closer. Then he looked down and his legs quivered. When he started his journey, the ladder looked normal and only a few rungs between the floor and the trapdoor. When he looked down, he couldn’t see the floor. The ladder had extended and fell deep, disappearing into a black void like a bottomless pit. His grip tightened and his mind swirled with vertigo. This house of twisted reality followed rules beyond the realms of this world. Almost like it existed on another plane of chaotic existence. The witches were in control here.

Hup took a moment to regain his composure. Adjusting his sword and bow, tightening his belt to better hold his spoon on his hip, he strengthened his resolve and pulled his cap on tighter. Setting his eyes on the hatch, he inhaled deeply and jumped. Reaching for the latch, he grabbed hold of the metal, his hand wrapping onto the loop. He had the door and swung back onto the ladder to get a better angle to open the hatch. He looked down and found the floor had returned. The room had returned, including the tapestry of woven hair that covered an entire wall. It was too lifelike. Hup would be glad to never see it again. He opened the trap door and pulled himself through to the floor above. He didn’t see the tapestry shift as the woven eyes of the weavess looked towards the ladder.

Hup quietly let the door shut before looking up and around the one roomed house. Above him, the cavernous, non-existent ceiling stretched upwards into eternity. Like the vast universe that was the night sky. But without the stars. Just an empty black abyss. In this abyss floated the sisters. They hung in the air as if lounging on thin, invisible beds. Their bodies were perpetually twisting and turning in a slow, near beautiful dance of deep sleep. Everything about them looked like they were falling. The fabric of their clothes floated in waves around them, draping over their bodies. They hung in perfect tranquility. Good news for Hup.

The podling remained crouched as he made his way over to the empty corner in the far side of the room. At least, it looked empty. That was the illusion. He faced the corner and sealed his eyes shut. He breathed in and reached out, feeling for…the cage. He grabbed the metal bar through the cloth covering and opened his eyes. It had materialized right in front of him. He exhaled, relieved that it had worked as he lifted the cage covering and looked into the cage. Right next to where he was, lay Deet. She was curled up, back to the bars and wrapped in the rags of what used to be her clothing. Her feet were bare and her exposed skin was cut, scabbed and bruised. She looked near emaciation, her bones pressing out in well defined but frightening shapes. And on her back, on either side of her spine, were two heavily scabbed wounds. The blood had congealed over where the wings were ripped and cut off and in lines down her skin where it dripped.

“Deet?” Hup whispered, under his breath. He reached through the bars and gently lay a hand on her back. No sooner had his fingers brushed her skin, that she suddenly rolled away and backed herself to the other side of the cage. Hyperventilating, she looked beyond terrified as her large eyes darted around. She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly as she rocked back and forth. She was traumatized.

“Deet?” Hup whispered in a hushed tone, holding the bars as he looked towards her.

She looked at him and their eyes met. Hup’s worry and kindness must have gotten through because the gelfling’s eyes softened. She was still terrified, but there was a small glimmer of hope that crept into her gaze. 

“Hup?” she asked, voice grating from the screaming and dehydration. “Please tell me that’s you.”

The podling pulled the spoon from his belt and showed it to her.

Deet carefully let go of her legs and began crawling to him. Hup saw on her chest, she had a symbol woven into her skin, like the weavess’ own thread tattoos on her arms. An odd, asymmetrical symbol of curvy lines enclosed in a circle was sewed into the skin over her heart. She got closer and he saw the extent of her wounds. They were all ragged and unclean. Jagged and uneven. Her lips and fingertips were cracked, just looking at them hurt. Tears that had been building up since he scared her awake started to roll down her face. What was once terror was now happiness and relief at seeing an old friend.

She reached through the bars and held Hup’s hands. Feeling that they were real, she leapt forward and dragged Hup into a hug through the bars. He returned the hug, squeezing her tightly, spoon still in his hand. He felt his own tears starting to well up as they held each other.

Hup was the first to pull away.

“Get…you…out,” he whispered.

He let go of her hands and pulled his sword from its sheath. He reached up and began to fiddle with the lock as quickly and as quietly as he could. This was easier than the lock in his cage. The metal of his sword was stronger than the bone, and the lock was big enough for it to fit properly. He used the sword as a pick to unlock the cage and the door slowly creaked open. He held up a hand to stop Deet. He looked out of the cloth to the witches, still hovering in their floating sleep. They didn’t stir. He beckoned her out as he pulled the cover off the cage. It was too large so he used his sword to cut the black cover down to a more reasonable size, draping it over Deet’s shoulders. She shivered as the cold started to leave her body, absorbed by the blanket and made into warmth.

Hup made sure Deet was bundled nice and snuggly as she stood frozen in fear, looking up at the sisters as they floated in their sleeping circle in the void. He took Deet’s hand and pulled her to the wall. She never looked away from the witches. Hup listened carefully as he walked along the wall. He listened intently, eyes sealed shut as he felt along the wall. The surface vibrated and rippled at his touch, as if the building were alive somehow. There was an energetic buzz that traveled up his arm as he walked along. The texture was enticing, beckoning him to keep his contact, and refusing to let him pull away. There was a sudden jolt in the surface and Hup heard a high pitched squeal. It was like he had touched a fresh wound in the house’s wall and it had psychically cried out in pain.

He opened his eyes and turned to Deet as she gripped the make-shift wrapping, still looking at the witches in now heightened terror. Hup followed her gaze to see the witches had changed position. They were now hovering in a line, still appearing as if suspended in water. The eldest hung the highest with her younger sisters lower at both of her sides. All three were facing them, still in the trance of sleep. Hup took Deets hands and pulled her attention away from the three sisters. He made gestures with his hands as he whispered instructions to her.

“Look…wall,” he started. “Eyes…closed. I say when you open.”

She looked back to the witches, still terrified to let them out of her sight. They floated, revolving around an axis that went through the eldest sister. When they had turned to face away from them, Hup pulled Deet’s attention back to the wall.

“Now,” he whispered.

He closed his eyes, hoping Deet would as well. If she didn’t, this wouldn’t work the way he wanted to. He held his breath, hoping for the best. He squeezed Deet’s hand and stepped into the wall. He was through, and he pulled Deet after him. They phased through the barrier of the house like walking through a wall of jelly. As they walked through, the ambient sound disappeared as they pushed through the amorphous material. It was more like walking through mud or clay, now that Hup actually experienced it, rather than having one of the sisters bend the house around him.

As he pushed through, the sounds of the night met him. The howling of teberfrocs and the chirping of the shrookil’s was a relief for him to hear. The cool night air on his skin, grass beneath his feet. He almost opened his eyes, but remembered Deet had to make it through first. He pulled her through with a heave.

“Deet out?” he asked.

“Yes,” she sighed, still terrified.

“Good,” he said. “Eyes open.”

Deet opened her eyes as Hup did. She looked up at the night sky. The soaring, countless stars and the full moon as it hung high among them. They reflected in the dazzle of her eyes as she let out tears of joy, but she kept her mouth sealed shut. She was still traumatized and dared not make a sound. Hup didn’t need to ask what had happened. He knew. He had seen. He had heard. And everytime he tried to help her, he had been punished. He had his own scars, but none as extreme as Deet’s. Where he had been flailed, she had been butchered, scalded, force fed, sewed into, and cut open. Why? He didn’t know. But they were now free.

“Come,” he said. “Stay on path.”

He tried to pull Deet after him, but she stumbled and winced in pain, biting her hand to prevent from screaming out. Her cut feet were raw and she didn’t have any shoes to protect them from the road. The podling pulled his own shoes off and gingerly helped Deet put them on.

“No,” she protested, but Hup silenced her with his kind look. He had gone barefoot before, and his feet were callused. He could handle it.

“Help Deet,” he said, helping her to her now bundled feet. They were a tight fit, but they were better than nothing. Hup stood under Deet’s arm, holding her weight as they pushed on. He had seen the sisters use the path when entering the wood. Never leaving it, so he would do that as well. The Endless Forest could be dangerous at night and this was easier as well. Hup looked behind them as they stumbled out of the clearing and into the woods. The house looked abandoned. Empty. The entire place looked completely devoid of life. So not a soul had stirred as they escaped. Good.

~~~~~

They had stumbled through the forest for an hour. The house was long gone behind them and all that surrounded them was wood.

“Rest here,” Hup said, easing Deet into the pit of a tree’s roots. It made the perfect size for the gelfling to sit and lie down to get some rest. But Hup knew they couldn’t stay here. They had to keep moving. He had to get his bearings to make it to Stone-in-the-Wood, and come morning the witches would wake and realize they had escaped and they would be after them. They couldn’t afford to stay in one place for too long, but Deet needed rest.

The podling paladin held the hilt of his sword as he knelt by the Grottan, hand on her shoulder as she quivered under the blanket he had made for her. She was suddenly cold again. He could feel it through the blanket. He took off his cap and placed it on Deet’s head, wrapping her tighter in the blanket.

“No,” she said, shouldering off the cloth.

Hup tried to wrap her tighter, despite her resistance, but she kept pushing it off.

“It’s cold,” she said.

Hup agreed and tried to wrap her tighter until he realized what she was saying. He took a moment, not believing what he felt was real, but it was. The blanket was ice cold to the touch. And getting colder. In a sudden motion, he pulled it off Deet and flung it away, but not soon enough as he felt a frost burn on his fingertips. The blanket froze solid before landing on the ground like a rock.

Hup still needed to keep Deet warm. He pulled off his own jacket and wrapped it over her shoulders as she shivered in relief, the warmth swept over her. He looked over at the frozen blanket confused, but not at the same time. Something else of the witches doing no doubt. Which made his mind start spinning. Had they woken up? Were they after them and that was to slow them down? He listened intently and just let the world sit with him. He didn’t hear anything, he didn’t sense anything. Nothing was out of place to tell him that they were after them. He tried to quiet his mind.

“Hup?” Deet called.

“Deet,” Hup answered.

“How are you here?” she asked.

“Captured,” he said, eyes meeting hers. “On way to Stone-in-Wood. Sent by Heretic.”

“For how long?” she asked.

Hup shrugged. He honestly didn’t know.

“Who are they?” she asked.

“skekMal sisters,” he answered.

“I thought they were a fairytale,” she groaned through a harsh throat. “A scary story for Stonewood children.”

Hup looked down the path they had come, in the direction of the house.

“No,” he said plainly.

Deet bundled herself tighter, wincing in pain, but holding out. They sat in silence, neither one willing to speak, or too afraid too.

“How much further?” she asked.

Hup looked in the direction they were going down the path. He wished he knew. Something in him felt odd. A whole-body sensation that something was off just radiated in him, but he dismissed it to trauma. They had both been through hell, and now nothing seemed safe.

Hup looked at Deet and froze. Terror gripped his heart like a vice and his attention was pulled to what he saw in the peripheral. His mouth hung open in shock. The witches’ house was right there. It was as if they hadn’t walked into the woods at all. They were on the edge of the woods and the house was right there. The podling’s heart jumped into his throat and he stood suddenly. Deet took notice and followed his eyeline. She saw the cottage and her eyes filled with fear. Her entire body went rigid when Hup tried to help her stand up. They needed to move.

He supported Deet’s weight and they began to jog, as best they could in their conditions. Hup Looked over his shoulder and it looked like they hadn’t moved. He saw the trees going by them, and the ground passed beneath their feet, but the house didn’t fall into the distance. Deet tripped over a tree root and went sprawling, collapsing over Hup who stumbled to the ground. A loud, aetherial cackling filled the air, like a flock of birds flying through the trees. It rang in their heads and took their thoughts prisoner. They couldn’t think and horror held them hostage to the ground.

The roof of the cottage exploded open and the sisters came flying into the night sky. The eldest rode a broom, staring down on them with malevolent intent emanating from her bandaged eyes. The middle sister had her arms crossed, pulling on mirrored stitchings in her arms, keeping her afloat. The youngest rode atop one of her pet rakkida, which hovered in the air with a black aura around its body. The sunken eyes of the beast were calm as the small vestigial wings flapped, as if it was used to flight. Their cloaks billowed around them like threatening spirits as a wind swept up through the entire forest.

“You have something we want,” the eldest spoke, pointing a long, crooked, knobbled finger at Deet through the rippling fabric.

Hup reached for his sword and accidentally pulled out his spoon, brandishing the wood in front of him as he backed up, closing the space between him and his friend. He took a stance, bracing for an attack as he gripped the handle and strengthened his resolve. He was sticking to the spoon. Though terrified, he felt a surge in his chest and coughed up a phrase that stapled him to the ground.

“No…hurt…Deet!” 

The eldest stared down Hup, blindfold to eye. She glowered down as she lowered her hand and gripped the broomstick. She raised her other hand and motioned to the left at her youngest sister.

“Feerena,” she hissed.

She then pointed to the right.

“Heacana,” she sneered.

Her two youngest sisters flew out to the side and began to close in in a pincer maneuver. Hup looked back and saw Deet had been overcome by fear and was sprinting at full speed down the path. The two sisters adjusted course and sped after her through the trees. He looked back just in time to see the eldest sister diving towards him on her broom. He had no time to react as she took hold of the spoon and he was lifted into the air.

Before he knew it, he was dozens of feet in the air and flying over the trees. He held on with all his might, but the witch shook him off, his grip slipped and he started plummeting. His skin ripped as he fell through branches and landed with a thud on top of Deet. The witches’ cackling filled the air like a hellish chorus as they descended on their location. Hup jumped to his feet and pulled his sword, swinging through the air. The middle sister pulled back to avoid the blade.

Hup holstered the blade before hoisting Deet to her feet and pulled her off the trail. No sooner had they left the path, that the path ceased to exist. They landed dead in the woods. The darkness jumped in as the canopy covered the moon and stars. Deet doubled over and vomited a black substance. She was exhausted and didn’t want to move. She was dead weight, but Hup used all his strength to lift her in his arms, though he was much smaller. He was running on full adrenaline as he chose a direction and moved towards it. The cackling came back in an uproar as they closed in. Hup hobbled as fast as he could, looking for somewhere to hide. He hefted Deet through the dark. Stumbling, he dropped her and tripped over her unconscious body. Out of breath, he grabbed her arms and tried to pull her, but his strength was waning.

The three sisters landed on the ground around them and began closing in. They were encircled and Hup had nowhere to go. He pulled his sword again, standing over Deet as her staunch protector.

“What say you sister?” the weavess snarled. “Is the potion working?”

“She coughs up the black phlegm,” the youngest sister hissed. “One way to find out.”

The witches arms snapped out in front of them before reaching out to the others. They formed a triangle around them and began chanting under their breath. Each one speaking a different phrase in some odd, dark language. The voices made Hup’s skin crawl and his bones ran cold. The sisters’ eyes rolled into the backs of their heads and their faces snapped up to face the sky. Their voices got louder and louder as their rigid bodies began swaying to and fro. Hup reached a hand down to Deet and took her hand; for his comfort and hers.

“Deet?” he asked, looking down at her.

Deet was not Deet. In body, yes. But behind her big, round, wide-open eyes, there was someone, or some thing , else. Darkening veined all over her skin and filled her eyes. She was glowing purple and the light pulsed with her heartbeat. She was completely overcome. The being that was inhabiting Deet pulled away before some darkening was able to cross over to the podling. Deet turned her head to Hup and they looked each other in the eyes one last time.

“Fear not Hup,” she said monotonously, the voice echoing in the hollows of her throat. “All will be okay.”

“Deet?” Hup asked.

She had no time to answer before she let out scream and was hoisted into the air, arms and legs splayed out like a star. The witches chanting became more and more erratic and their bodies contorted as their feet remained planted solidly in the earth.

“Hup,” Deet said through tears. “Run.”

She opened her mouth again, but the sound was cut off before the scream left her throat. Deet was hung suspended, locked in mid-air as the wind picked up even more. She began to spin, hair whipping around her head as her jaw was held locked open. The Darkening radiated off of her. It seeped from the ground and the trees. She was absorbing all of it from the forest around her. Hup looked around him and back at her. Her warning of “Run” echoed in his head. He couldn’t. He couldn’t leave Deet alone in whatever this hell was.

The witches’ chanting reached its crescendo before breaking off into silence. There was a sudden flash of darkness that rippled through the forest. The entirety of the world hung silent as the grave and the stillness was unnerving.

“Deet?” Hup asked.

The gelfling hung in the air.

The witches put both their arms out towards the grottan and stepped forward as she began to lower to the forest floor.

“She has become one of us,” the eldest said.

“A conduit for the power we cannot possess,” the middle sister added.

“Our gift for the emperor,” the youngest finished.

Deet lowered and stood on her own two feet circled by the witches. The weavess took hold of the stitched symbol in Deet’s chest and pulled one of the strands. The thread pulled out and turned into elegant, black clothes. They looked a lot like the clothes she had worn before, but there was writing on the hems that glistened in darkening purple. 

“She is completely taken over,” The youngest said. “The potion worked perfectly.”

Deet was standing like she had just been born. She looked at herself as if it were the first time in her body. She flexed her fingers and bent her arms, trying them out. She raised an arm at a nearby tree, flexing her wrist so hard it shuddered her entire body. The tree went up in darkening flames before turning to gray ash. She looked at her hand in a completely neutral state.

“Now,” the enchantress snarled. “Brew another batch for this…thing.”

The witches turned to Hup and began moving in.

“Butcher and char his flesh in a fire,” the weavess suggested.

Hup held his sword out to keep them at bay. But they continued forward.

“No,” the eldest said. “There’s no reason to keep him.”

She pulled a sickle from her robes and held it aloft. Hup raised his sword to stop the blade as it came down, but at the last second the sickle was stopped. The witches all looked back in surprise as Deet held out a hand, a strand of darkening used like a lasso. It wrapped around her wrist, stopping the eldest sister from killing Hup.

“The potion has failed sister!” the eldest exclaimed, breaking free of the bond as soon as her attention turned elsewhere.

“No,” the youngest said. “The potion works as intended. The darkening inhabits her, and she has full control of its powers. And we control her.”

“Then why does she act against us?” the weavess demanded.

“Sisters,” she gawked. “As well versed as we are in magic, I can’t be the only one who recognizes that there are some magics beyond our control.”

“Impossible!” the eldest screamed. “We are of the past, present, and beyond. We can control whatever we want.”

“You have just seen the contrary,” the youngest said. “We may have her mind, but there are parts of the soul that are not so easily tampered with.”

“We control her,” the middle sister said. “Therefore, we control the darkening. We should count our blessings.”

“That still leaves us with this worm,” the eldest growled, pointing a knife-like finger nail at the podling.

Hup stood as brave as he could. The three witches all stood between him and Deet. He had his sword extended to keep them away from him, but there was nothing he could do if they went after her.

“Sisters,” the youngest said. “An idea. Maida, the podling’s spoon.”

She held out her hand to the eldest sister, who looked down at her sister with distaste. She glanced a malicious eye at Hup before relenting. She pulled Hup’s spoon from her robes and handed it to her. Feerena took the spoon and stuck the utensil handle first into the ground. She then began to twist the spoon, deeper and deeper into the soil until only the ladle was sticking out of the surface.

Hup couldn’t understand how, but the youngest sister reached forward and pinched the air, a deep purple color radiating from where her fingers met. She pulled and a rip appeared suspended in mid-air. The tear rippled and flickered as the sister pulled the air apart. She then split the rift apart and pulled it over the spoon like pulling a bag over a gelfling’s head. She took either end of the split and, with a twist, closed the rip over the spoon. Nothing seemed to be different.

“Sisters?” she asked, pulling the spoon from the dirt. “If you would?”

“I see sister,” the middle sister said. She reached into her robes and pulled a black string from inside with her thumb and index finger. She wove her other hand through her wiry white hair and began to weave the two together. With a wave of her hand and a wiggle of her fingers, the spoon began to float through the air as the threaded-hair wrapped tightly around the handle in a criss-cross pattern.

“You had better know what you’re doing sister,” the eldest growled. She snatched the spoon from the air, snapping the string and hair of the middle sister. With the nail of her thumb, she scratched a symbol into the front and back of the ladle. The sound of the nail breaking as she carved away the splinters of wood made Hup flinch. Despite how painful it sounded, she had little reaction.

When the three sisters were done with their enchanting, the youngest took it again and brought it forward to the podling.

“Protect Deethra, yes?” she asked.

 Hup looked at the spoon and back to Deet, who looked suspended in stasis. Waiting for instruction to be given.

“Deet!?” Hup shouted.

She had no reaction to her name. Simply stood there, looking at the witches with blank curiosity.

“You can continue to protect her,” the youngest said, placing a hand on the ground and twisting her fingers into the dirt.

Continue to fulfill your chivalric duty as her paladin, the voice in his head said. You can protect her while she is in this state. They shan’t lay a finger on her with you there.

Hup felt his body move before the thoughts processed. Before he knew it, he was reaching for the spoon. Not of his own character, but of his own volition. When his hand touched the spoon handle, there was a jarring calm. He had a sense of purpose sweep over him. A single thought controlled his existence now. One idea that drowned out all the others.

Protect Deet .

“Sisters,” the eldest witch said. “We have work to do.”

Chapter Text

Maudra Laesid sat huddled amongst the roots of the apeknot trees. She held her cane, made of the same wood, eyes closed and ears open. Her back was against the trunk of a tree and she sat in a little hollow of the gnarled, twisted, knotted roots. She sat, quietly listening to the sounds of the swamp. The insects and birds and the occasional splash of water from a jumping fish. Her dress was soggy from sitting on the moss, which absorbed the swamp water like a sponge, but she paid it no mind. With one hand on her cane, and the other rolling a small stone, she was completely at one with the Swamp of Sog and with Thra.

In her meditation, she felt it. It made her heart lighten, but it also sank considerably. The pull on her soul. The calling of Thra. Her age was no secret to anyone of her clan. Before all of this happened, she had been expecting Thra’s call of passing to come soon. But she had forgotten, with the skekSis’ betrayal and the formation of the gelfling resistance. She was prepared for the passing. She had utmost faith that Naia would make a superb maudra, and that Gurjin would be able to take his sister’s place as head of the secret guardsmen. But now, it felt like an inconvenience. She still had so much more to do to ensure the safety of her clan. Thra would have to rip her from her body. She would not go silently. The feeling faded, but she wouldn't forget. Her timer was running out.

“Maudra Laesid,” Naia called.

She opened her eyes and looked up to her daughter. So young. Strong, confident, and independent to a fault. The maudra had raised her daughter well to take her place. But there was still much she wished to teach her. Wounds she had picked up from her own mother she wished to mend. Yet something in her told her that she wouldn’t get to teach her those lessons. Duty called.

“The others have arrived,” she said.

Maudra Laesid stood with a groan, a look of concern showing through Naia’s usual steely cold facade.

“Are you alright, my maudra?” she asked.

Laesid looked at her with a saddened expression. Even when alone, she called her by her formal title.

“Fine, Naia,” she said. “Just fine.”

She looked at her daughter, who looked back like a soldier waiting for orders. Not in the way a daughter should look at a mother.

“Naia?” she asked.

She didn’t respond vocally, but she gave a curt nod to show she was listening. Waiting for the question.

“How old are you now?” she asked.

Naia’s brow furrowed in confusion. Not like a daughter confused at her mother forgetting her age, which is what had happened, and Maudra Laesid felt shameful for it. No, Naia looked at her like a soldier confused as to why a Maudra was concerned about the age of one of her insignificant guards.

“How old are you, my child?” she asked, trying to come across as more motherly.

“I’ve seen twenty-eight winters now,” she answered, still rigid.

“My you’ve grown,” she smiled.

She stepped forward and laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder as she passed.

“I’m proud of who you’ve grown up to be,” she said.

A quiver shot through Naia that Laesid could feel. She felt her daughter's shoulders slouch as all the tension in her body slowly disappeared. She stood in a more relieved pose. Her breathing became less methodical and Laesid felt all remaining tension disappear from her body. The maudra felt a flutter of motherly love dance in her heart. And just as soon as it came, her head started spinning out of control. She didn’t know how to handle this feeling, and before she could think about what she was doing, her hand left her daughter’s shoulder and she started towards the clearing.

“Mother?” Naia called, halting Laesid in her tracks. That funny feeling came back. The word was odd from Naia’s lips. It had been so long since she’d said it last. In fact when she had said it, she sounded as young as she had been the last time she called Laesid ‘mother’. Nowadays, Pemma was the only one who still called the maudra by that name.

“Yes Naia?” she answered her daughter.

“How old were you when you became Maudra?”

Laesid heard the other question. The one her daughter dared not ask.

“I don’t remember,” she lied.

The hidden answer hung in the air like a bad smell from a rotting fruit.

“Come,” Laesid answered. “We best not keep the others waiting.”

They left the cluster of apeknot trees and made their way to the clearing. It was a specific place that had been looked after by the group of soldiers the Maudra selected to be her special guard. Her eyes and ears through Sog. The ones she could count on to carry out top secret missions. The only ones privy to their existence were the Maudra and those guards selected. And when the Muadra called a meeting, this was where all of them convened.

The meeting place was a clearing in the forest. A single tree grew in the middle of the space, free from the twists and ties of the apeknots. Perhaps a sapling of the great Smerth tree of Sog, no one was certain. But it was obviously different from the other apeknot trees in the grove. The ground here was covered in broken stone, whether refuse from the construction of Sog, or the remains of an attempted splinter city of Drenchen, that was lost to history. As such, the swamp had reclaimed it as its own, and it now served as the base of the Muadra’s secret council. A chair had been built up in the tree out of the rubble for the Muadra, and would be taken down again once this meeting was over, so as not to give away their location. The tightness of the apeknot trees gave the illusion of walls and a ceiling, though sound acted very much the same way as it did in a hall. Voices echoed and bounced around, until Maudra Laesid stepped into the clearing.

Upon her footfall into the space, there was a wave of silence that settled in amongst the other members of her secret elite guard. Still fiddling with the stone she had before, she walked forward, through the clearing gelfling that made way for her, and towards the chair in the center of the gathering. She stepped up and turned to face her guard before lowering herself into the makeshift throne. She fiddled with the stone a little more before dropping it at her feet. Tapping her cane on the stone, the maudra called her meeting to order.

“As you can see,” she started. “I am alive and well. I am before you, the Muadra of the Drenchen clan.”

The guard wouldn’t say anything, but she could tell her words were being heard. Their faces looked up at her from underneath their hooded robes. Some wore masks over their mouth and nose, but she could see the attentiveness in their eyes.

“Today,” she continued. “We face a threat we never thought we’d have to face. Our people, our families, our friends, are held hostage by Sifan pirates. They control our port, and walk amongst our people, holding them in Sog. We must find a way to remove them from our waters, and free our people. I was not here when they invaded, I do not know the entire extent of their numbers or influence. I seek your counsel.”

There were murmurs as the guard spoke amongst themselves in hushed discussion. Groups formed and reformed, interlacing with each other. Heads nodded. Heads shook. Looks were glanced up to her and the Muadra was left regretting that she had tossed the stone she had before. She needed something to fiddle with to fill the space. Naia approached. Facing away from the guards, she leaned in to Laesid’s ear.

“There is only one option,” she said. “Why put it off? We have to strike.”

She still had much to learn.

“We lead an all out attack, gelfling will die,” she said. “Your father and sisters lives will be at stake. Our people will be executed in a massacre.”

“We have men,” Naia said. “They have men. The soldiers will join us. We can take them.”

“They have the advantage of weaponry,” Laesid hissed. “Even if we win, they will decimate us with their canonfire. We need to preserve gelfling life. The Drenchen clan must survive.”

Naia’s attention was pulled away when Gurjin entered the grove, causing a small commotion to stir amongst the guard.

“Naia,” he said as he approached. “There’s-”

His sister hushed him with a firm finger to her lips before pulling him aside.

“My Maudra,” a guard said, arm raised to get her attention. “The general consensus seems to be we have to flush out the invaders. The tricky part is how. They’re on land and in the water. They have a firm grip on us on the land and are ready at any moment to blow the Great Smerth Tree to oblivion.”

Naia returned to her shoulder.

“Gurjin’s soldiers have captured a group of Sifan gelfling near our meeting spot,” she said quickly and in a hushed tone.

“Bring them here,” she said. “They’ll face my judgment.”

Naia left, following Gurjin.

“We could take control of the ship,” another guard suggested.

“Then they’d blow up the tree,” another said.

“We’d have to let the other guards in on the plan,” one said. “It's the only way we could keep the tree safe and take control of the ship.”

“Not a viable option,” some other guard said. “They don’t uphold the same level of secrecy we do. Our plan could be caught by the pirates.”

Laesid sat in thought as murmurs picked up again. Her brow furrowed as she also tried to think up something. This issue with the pirates was delaying her return to the resistance base, which was delaying their liberating the Castle of The Crystal. A sudden thought popped into her head.

“There may be another way,” Laesid said, which hushed the entire guard. “It’s an old favor the Drenchen have with the Sifa. If we were ever in need, we were to light a beacon lantern and hang it at the shore. Any passing Sifa that sees it has to come to our aid. Maudra Ethri-”

“Maudra Ethri is dead,” someone said, snapping everyone's attention to the unfamiliar voice. “Along with the rest of the true Sifa Clan.”

Naia and Gurjin, with the help of the other soldiers, were escorting a group of Sifan, looking in horrible shape. They were covered in rags and only carried some makeshift weapons of wood and rock. The murmuring turned to a mini uproar as the gelfling who spoke was brought forward before Maudra Laesid. Naia forced her down on her knees.

“She claims to be the leader,” Naia said. “She was also the only one armed with an actual weapon.”

She held out a Sifa spear before dropping it to the ground.

“I am,” the kneeling gelfing spat. “Maudra Laesid, I was there, fighting side by side with your people at the Battle of Stone in Wood. My name is Onica. I was one of the elders.”

Onica kept her eyes down while addressing Laesid, either out of respect or due to threats from Naia.

“Look at me Onica of the Sifa,” Laesid said. “So that I might remember your face.”\

Onica looked up and Laesid recognized her immediately.

“Release these gelfling,” Laesid ordered.

“My Maudra,” Naia protested.

“Naia I have spoken,” Laesid snapped. “They are heroes of the resistance. Release them at once.”

Naia begrudgingly cut Onica’s restraints and nodded to the other soldiers to do the same. She reached forward to help Onica up, but the gelfling kept her away. The Sifa gelfling reached forward and took up the spear, using it to lift herself up on weak legs.

“Speak, Onica of the Sifa Clan,” Laesid said.

Onica composed herself, still leaning on her spear. She wet her lips and swallowed before inhaling to speak.

“We were ambushed,” she started. “All Sifa were to meet at the Silver Coast. The Omerya ship was going to Cera-Na and the entire clan was going to go in force to join the resistance. But pirates found us, lead by Fenth.”

At the mention of the name, everyone began to speak. Maudra raised her hand and the speaking silenced.

“Continue,” she said.

“All ships flying Sifan colors were routed and destroyed,” she continued. “The pirate’s fleet decimated ours. We were the only ones they let live.”

“And why is that?” Naia asked, suspicion saturating her words.

“We were the only ones who put up a fight,” she said. “They were sloppy with the first few ships and we briefly got the upper hand. As such he wanted to offer us a chance to join his men, make me one of his lieutenants. No one else was as lucky.”

“And?” Naia asked. “What did you say to this proposition?”

“I took back my crew and spat in his face,” Onica snapped, standing up straighter and taller than Naia, suddenly looking ready to fight the Drenchen there and then.

“And you escaped?” Laesid asked, trying to distract and clear the air.

“ We were able to,” Onica answered. “Not all of us made it. As I said, we are all who remain of the Sifa Clan.”

Laesid sat back in her chair, slouching in front of her soldiers for the first time.

“Maudra Ethri is dead?” she asked.

Onica nodded.

The Maudra hid her face in one hand, and she could feel the shock of her soldiers at her showing this much weakness. Her age was getting the better of her. Another, not good sign.

“My heart weeps for her,” she said.

“If you need help,” Onica said. “My sailors and I are ready to fight by your side.”

“You can barely stand,” Gurjin said, genuinely concerned.

“I’m barely alive,” she spat. “You try going through what we’ve been through and tell me how well you fair.”

“Please,” Maudra Laesid said. “We are all on the same side here.”

Tensions eased, but still hung in the air.

“Is there anything else you can tell us Onica?” Laesid asked.

“Whatever you plan to do,” she said. “Best do it soon. Because if we’re still here when The Dreadnaught gets here, we’re all dead.”

“ The Dreadnaught ?” Gurjin asked.

Onica smirked a bit.

“If you think the warships Fenth has are big, you haven’t seen this one. I only saw it once through fog, but it was enough to get a good sense. About as big as The Omerya , given it cleaved our mother tree in two and burned it to cinders. A fortress with sails.”

“skekSa?” Naia asked.

Laesid shook her head.

“That skekSis seadog is so enthralled by the ocean I’d be surprised if she had any idea what was happening on land,” Maudra Laesid hissed. “Fenth is our enemy. He saw an opportunity, thinking us weak, and took it. Now we must deal with him swiftly.”

“We are at your command Maudra Laesid,” Onica said, giving a small, curt bow. She shifted her weight on the spear, but held on.

“First,” Laesid said. “Get some rest.”

Onica gave a weak smile of thanks and relief before walking off, joining her crew and following Gurjin and the other soldiers to a place where they could rest.

“Maudra Laesid,” Naia said, once they were out of earshot. “Can we really trust them?”

“We have to,” Laesid said. “Our list of allies is burning away. And you saw them. They have been through hell. Faced death. They were war-hardened in only a few days. They are gelfling without a home. And we are going to accept them with open arms.”

Naia didn’t like that answer, but stepped down all the same.

“Now,” Laesid said. “Continuing.”

Chapter Text

“Not working,” Aughra said. "Bah!”

In a fit of frustration she stood from her seat and returned to her work table, wiping clean the mortar she was using and sifting through all she had, trying to come up with something.

“Mother Aughra?” the gelfling asked.

“Quiet!” she snapped. “Need to concentrate. Think.”

She fumbled with the ingredients she had. Not even thinking, she just combined a bunch and began grinding them together. Turning back to her patient, she took the powder and sprinkled it over the child’s nose. They inhaled weakly and she saw the dust enter their nasal passage. She then lay a hand over the boy’s chest and began chanting. As she chanted, she felt the gelfling’s heart rate slow, and his breathing stopped. She tried focusing even more, chanting louder. But nothing was working to stop the degrading symptoms. Within a moment, his heart rate failed, and life faded from his eyes.

“No,” Aughra muttered in defeat. “Not like this.”

Mother Aughra heard the boy’s parents start to cry. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at them. She closed the boy’s eyes and pulled the blanket up over his head, covering his darkening riddled body.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I did all I could.”

She took up her cane and left the family to grieve. Outside, she looked up to the barren Nenadi-Staba. The massive twisted trunk and the empty branches. No more leaves hung on, and the videos had moved on. The great tree was on its last legs, Aughra felt it. She took a seat on a nearby stool and held her head in her hand. She had been here longer than she wanted, but she couldn’t just leave the entire Spriton clan to this plague. Crops failing, livestock rampaging and being lost, gelfling falling ill and dying in a matter of days. This land was dying. And much like the child, there was nothing she could do to help.

“Mother Aughra?” a familiar voice asked.

She looked up to see the Spriton Maudra looking at her from across the road with concern.

“Mera,” she greeted back. “Dark times.”

“Yes,” she responded.

The two remained in the silence of the afternoon. Not much stirred. Not even the breeze wafted through the streets. The sobs of the parents inside were the only sound that was made. The Maudra looked at the house with a great sadness in her eyes. Weariness had settled into her facial muscles and showed no sign of leaving.

“I was on my way to the great tree,” she said. “Join me?”

Mother Aughra took a moment to collect herself before standing with a heaving sigh. Maudra Mera took up the place beside Aughra and the two started a walk down the street. They remained in silence for a long time. Too long for some, but not long enough for them.

“How many?” Mera asked. 

Aughra looked at her with confusion.

“You’ve been back longer than I have,” the gelfling said. “How many have been lost to this sickness?”

“That was the only one I cared for,” Aughra admitted with defeat. “I’ve only heard of all the others through passing words of sorrow. This illness…the darkening blight is the cause. Therefore, I do not know if there even is a cure.”

The gravity of the situation hung in the air.

“Not just gelfling,” Aughra continued. “All the beings of Thra are affected. It clings to the air and flows with the water. It’s in the food, the livestock. The animals run rampant and the soil itself crumbles with its energy.”

“The Crystal must be fixed?” the maudra asked.

“Only solution,” Aughra said. “I see no others. Thra does not give any others.”

Maudra Mera nodded, thoughts running through her head.

“What does Thra have planned?” she asked.

Aughra paused, causing the gelfling to walk ahead a few paces before turning to look back. She tried as hard as she could, to see beyond the song of Thra. To see what Thra had planned, what was to come. But when she closed her eyes and tried to see with her third, Thra fought back. Like being thrown from a tree, Thra cast her out and the impact caused her to stumble. She felt faint and leaned on her cane a little more.

“Mother Aughra?” Mera asked, rushing to her. 

Mother Aughra put out a hand to keep her away. She felt ashamed. Like a child who had been put in time out.

“Thra does not let me see,” she said. “Believe me, I have tried. Every time I do, Thra pushes me out.”

“Perhaps it is not for us to know,” Mera said, looking down.

Unclasping her hands, Aughra saw the first signs. Maudra Mera’s fingers were laced with black and purple. The first signs of the darkening sickness.

“Maudra Mera?” she asked.

The Maudra looked at Aughra with sympathetic compassion. All the old woman could do was just look.

“Surely,” Mera said. “There must be something.”

Aughra walked up to the gelfling and took her hands. She held them tightly and gave them a little, half-comforting shake. Mera gave a small, half-hearted smile in return, but the dreariness still clouded them.

“Thra has locked me out,” Aughra said. “Punishment for my prying worry. I know not where to go, nor what to do. But one thing is clear.”

“The skekSis need to be stopped,” Mera said.

“Yes,” Aughra answered. “The castle must be reclaimed, and the crystal fixed. This is for certain.”

Maudra Mera pulled away and looked up at the great tree. They had stopped at a pavilion. The clearing was deserted except for them, the roots of Nenadi-Staba forming walls around the area. A dried up water fountain sat in the middle of the area and she walked over, taking a seat on the edge.

“I used to play here as a child,” she said. “Tossing coins to make wishes, chasing the other children in a game of tag.”

Aughra stood in silence, respectful of the Muadra’s reminiscence.

“I had a friend once,” she said. “Her name was Draunfi. She was one of my best friends. Knew all the best hiding spots, all the twists of roots one could use to hide from adults who were too big to get us. Which podlings allowed us to eat and drink with them, and who would tell on us. We did everything together. Then one day, she didn’t show up. I waited and waited, but she never came. I tried to find her, but realized I didn’t know where she lived.”

She paused, picking up a coin from the fountain’s basin.

“Silly,” she commented. “A Maudra’s daughter not knowing where her subjects are. But I was a child. I didn’t know any better. I remember thinking: She’s abandoned me. She’s found other friends. Weeks passed, and eventually I did find her again. Turns out she had gotten a bad stomach bug and didn’t want to pass it to me, or any of the other kids for that matter. And I remember thinking: How selfish to not come play with me. ”

She turned her head away suddenly.

“Maudra Mera?” Aughra asked, taking a few steps forward.

She sniffed in tears and wiped her eyes before looking back.

“I’ve sent word to the resistance,” she said. “This sickness would hurt the efforts. I won’t let them fall because of our predicament. Yes…I know.”

She interrupted Aughra’s thought.

“But I couldn’t let myself live it down if the entire resistance fell ill and died,” she said.

Mother Aughra knelt to take the Maudra’s hands again. She took the gelfling’s chin and turned it to her. Their eyes met and Aughra tried to convey hope.

“Difficult times call for difficult choices,” Aughra said.

“I’ll never see my son again,” the maudra said. “And we all may die here. Our sacrifice may be in vain. Many would rather join and fight but I can’t…I can’t let them. The risks…”

Her voice started to break.

“The risks are too great,” Aughra said. “I understand. It was a hard decision, but a wise one.”

Mera smiled a little at that, knowing that Aughra understood. And why wouldn’t she.

“I will seek out the urRu,” Augrha said. “If I can, I will see if they have some idea of how to cure this illness, and send them your way if they do.”

An empty promise, they both knew. But it was something. A place of such joy, laughter and prosperity was now a place of despair and death. As if on some cosmic cue, the great tree heaved. Aughra felt it in the ground and the trembles in her psyche. The branches of the great tree wilted, causing a swarm of vindles to take to the air. Where they would go, she didn’t know, but with the great tree fallen to the darkening,  this land was now even more unprotected.

Mother Aughra stood and walked over to one of the roots of the tree that made up the walls of the pavilion, she laid her hand on the wood and felt the last, lingering presence of the tree slowly fading.

“Sleep my friend,” she said. “You’ve done all you can. Perhaps in the future, you shall be reborn in a new sapling.”

The presence warmed a little, before fading away. The wood under Aughra’s palm became just wood and the cold of death began to settle into the bark.

“Mother Aughra,” Maudra Mera said.

Aughra turned to the gelfling who was coming to join her.

“If you see Kylan,” she said. “That is, if Thra allows your paths to cross-”

The Maudra reached under her shirt and pulled a necklace from around her neck. The bronze chain and medallion glistened in the sunlight as Mera held it out to Aughra.

“I want him to have this,” she said. “From his adoptive mother.”

Aughra took the trinket and looked at it in her palm. The Spriton Clan symbol was engraved on its metallic surface, colored in with wheat-gold paint. She felt the weight and closed her fingers around the medallion.

“I swear on my life,” Aughra said. “I will deliver this to your son.”

Mera nodded.

“Perhaps there will be some of us left when this is all over,” Mera noted.

Aughra nodded, for she didn’t know, and the longer she stayed here, the more frustrated she felt Thra getting. The Spriton Maudra wiped her eyes and straightened out her clothes, standing tall.

“We have business to see to,” she said, feigning a stiff upper lip.

“Indeed,” the sage said, folding the necklace into her robes.

“Good luck, Mother Aughra.”

“My child,” Aughra returned. “Though it may seem like everything is fading, remember the sun still rises.”

Mera nodded before turning and walking away.

Mother Aughra stood in silent reverence. A clan was slowly disappearing before her eyes, and Thra, ever indifferent, had her moving elsewhere. It wasn’t fair. It didn’t seem right. Her own consciousness was telling her to stay. Her heart wanted to help, but her head was saying to follow the song Thra had laid out. With a heavy heart and deep inhale to help her resolve, she turned to the road and began her march to the urRu valley. Of course, back the way she came.

On the edge of the city, Aughra turned to look at the buildings one last time. The tree was turning gray and the buildings were starting to look askew as the roots themselves heaved with the final expels of death. Continuing on, she paused once more when something landed on her shoulder. She started, shrugging the presence away. But it clung on. Her nerves calmed when she saw it was only a swoothu. 

The squirrelly creature blinked a few times in rapid succession before crawling down Aughra’s body, going for one of the pouches she had cinched to her belt.

“Tumbus was it?” she asked, pulling off the pouch he was most interested in. “Must be starving. You were smart not to eat the food.”

The swoothu climbed back up on her shoulder as she untied the bag's drawstring.

“Is this what you’re after?” she asked, pulling out a small tree nut. The creature crawled out onto her arm and grabbed the seed, biting into it and chirping away happily to itself. It looked back to her and perched back on her shoulder, adamant to stay.

“Very well,” she said. “But if you’re coming with me, there are some rules.”

Tumbus continued eating.

“Rule one,” Aughra started as she began walking again. “No stealing my food. Number two: when I need quiet, I need complete and absolute utter silence! Number three…”

Chapter Text

skekSil ran his finger over the spines of books in the library. The silence, well, there had always been silence, but it sat uneasy with him. All the skekSis were at unease, being cooped up in the palace. Not that there was much they could do, but as skekTek oh-so loved to point out, caged animals became more and more restless the longer they were penned. As such, the chamberlain found himself in the library more and more, reading the contents of whatever spine his finger happened to get snagged on. skekUng had made a remark at how he now spent more time in the library than skekOk. And how his time should have been spent at the emperor’s right hand. But what was there to assist the emperor in? Life had become stagnant. And skekSil decided it best to fill his time by broadening his mind. Sharpening the blade of his mind, though he couldn’t stand the librarian’s yammerings when he was there.

His nail snagged a particular clasp of pages. They had no spine, and weren’t bound in leather. The pages were held together by four uneven lengths of twine. He pulled this compilation from the shelf, dangling it from his finger. The front page was a simply titled one:

How to Never Lose

skekLi

It had been a while since The Chamberlain had thought of The Satirist, and seeing his name was a tad jarring. It had been a long time since they last flyted. He missed the verbal sparring that would leave the both of them mentally scarred and emotionally battered. He had never bothered to read any of his writings, but since he had nothing to do.

The skekSis took a seat on the balcony overlooking the valley the palace sat in. The sounds of the splintered river running under and around the palace quietly echoed up to his ears as he sat in the calm tranquility of ennui. As he flipped open the pages, the euphoric sense of disgust at skekLi’s phrasing overcame him. He smirked at his own discontent. Even when he wasn’t involved, it was as if skekLi was always just attacking him in everything he did. The words, the punctuation, the literary tools and jests. He couldn’t help but force himself to continue. He missed him.

The sound of skekOk entering through the library’s door only gave him cause to further bury his nose in the book, attempting to simply ignore The Scroll Keeper, or maybe hoping he wouldn’t see him. Or better yet see he was so engrossed in his readings to just leave him alone.

“Ahhhh,” skekOk said. “Here again I see.”

Of course.

The Chamberlain rolled his eyes, trying to stay immersed in his literature. Maybe The Scroll Keeper would simply leave him alone.

“What are you reading this time?”

Apparently not. 

No matter. skekSil would tune him out anyway.

Out of his periphery, he saw the other skekSis lean in to get a glimpse of the title.

“I never thought you to be an admirer of skekLi’s work,” skekOk said, just over his shoulder. 

skekSil wished he were some tiny insect he could just shrug away, but alas he was not.

“The way you two would constantly bicker-”

skekSil let out a screeching hiss over his shoulder. skekOk was taken off guard and pulled back a bit.

“Consider it personal interest hmmmm?” skekSil mused. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I do often wonder what happened to him,” skekOk added. “Where he went.”

The Chamberlain looked out to the horizon. He could make out the faint mist in the air where the ocean met the land. Thinking back, skekLi was the only skekSis whose disappearance from the Palace of the Crystal didn’t make sense. skekSa left to tame the wild waves of the ocean. skekUng and skekShod simply went on travels to foreign lands, ‘broadening their horizons’, as they put it. And skekNa had simply been banished. skekLi on the other hand, simply seemed to have faded from the palace. As in he was seen less and less. He didn’t go anywhere, nor was he cast out. Simply made his presence known less, until he seemed to have faded from existence itself.

“May I venture a question of you?” skekOk asked. “Scholar to new scholar?”

skekSil made no affirmation or negative answer. Simply looked back to his book.

“As the right hand of the emperor,” The Scroll Keeper started. “Have you noticed a..shall we say…change in his behavior as of late?”

skekSil raised an eyebrow and looked at skekOk out of the corner of his eye.

“To suggest such things,” The Chamberlain sneered.

He slammed his book closed with a thud of the pages and stood to face his skekSis brethren. skekOk shrank back.

“I meant nothing by it,” he stammered. “Nothing at all.”

“Then your eyes must be false,” skekSil whined. “Mmmmm. skekOk is correct to notice Emperor’s failing health.”

The Scroll Keeper looked up to The Chamberlain with a glint more respect than ever previously offered to him. Perhaps they were on the same page in regards to this matter.

“Seems the stress of war is causing Emperor to falter,” skekSil continued. “I notice, as do you, his health is failing. Restless nights causing nightmares and more sleepless rest. Yes?”

“Indeed,” skekOk nodded. “We rarely see him nowadays. Keeps to his chambers now most days.”

“Leaving us to fend for selves. No plan. No foreseeable end to this stalemate, no?”

skekOk shook their head.

“Perhaps, emperor needs…replacing.”

skekOk looked at skekSil with a glint in his own eye and raised a scaly brow. The Chamberlain simply smiled and walked past The Scroll Keeper. Picking up a piece of paper not yet written on, he tore a strip and placed it in between the pages he was reading. He slipped the book into a fold in his robes.

“You would make a bid for the throne?” skekOk asked. “Even with all the risks.”

skekSil turned back to skekOk.

“Mmmm. Risk? With emperor so sick? No. No risk.”

“But, if you fail…the punishment would be-”

“Emperor cannot afford to lose right hand, or fellow skekSis in times such as these, hmmmm? Punishment would be…on hold.”

“But trust would be lost.”

“A price willing to be paid.”

skekSil grit his teeth. Challenging the emperor for the throne was risky. He would never have his trust again, and one of his other compatriots would fill in as right hand. And with the other skekSis having been called, and coming in at the emperor's request, there’s no telling who would take his place. And whether they would be friendly, and lenient towards him for his discretion, or an enemy, ready to instill the harshest of punishments. He needed allies. skekOk was as good a start as any.

“skekLach would agree,” The Scroll Keeper said. “They and skekShod.”

skekSil nodded. 

“I will confer. But my support, you shall have.”

The librarian gave a small bow, which The Chamberlain returned.

~~~~~

skekLi watched from his hiding place in the ceiling. His blood boiled and he couldn’t help but laugh to himself. He knew it. And skekOk being the first to join his side. It was only a matter of time now. More would rally to his side, it was a certainty. He needed to gather the emperor’s supporters. And fast. skekTek was guaranteed to side with the emperor. He was far too cowardly to go against the status quo. skekUng might join simply to stay on the emperor’s goodside, and skekNa, when he arrived, would side with the emperor due to their shared views on skekSis superiority. He had a certain three, as opposed to skekSil’s certain one. That still left five left to pick their side.

skekLi felt a small flutter of pride in his chest. He had noticed skekSil had saved his book to read later, as opposed to throwing it back to the shelves as he did with the rest. Though they were enemies, it was clear they still respected one another. Perhaps due to the fact they were the only two with any sense of equal intelligence. His years of staying isolated in the walls was making him long for the days when they would bicker and bicker for hours. The battle of wits, sometimes to near lethal lengths, were one of the things he missed most.

But now was not the opportune moment. He had some waiting to do still. Then, they would be able to flyte as they once had before. All those years ago.

Chapter Text

Seladon sat alone in Maudra Fara’s study of the StoneWood hold. At the large, solitary desk, she leaned over the law she had had the librarian pen. She didn’t flip the pages, or attempt to read the false documents. Simply stared at them with a lost sense of shame and hopelessness. Her head ached, and the knot in her stomach churned over and over. The more she sat there, the more she realized that there was a hint of disgust in her numbness. Disgust at Brea for seemingly abandoning her when she found out her lie. Disgust at Rian for being nosey enough to figure out the skekSis plot. Disgust at the whole resistance for even starting. But deep down, the longer she sat with it, the more she realized the disgust was within her own heart. Aimed at itself. Being left alone with herself, she had nothing to do but recount the events of the past year. And she didn’t like what she saw. 

Being the oldest she always felt burdened. The weight of what her mother expected from her duties she had in court. And the fact she was named after her grandmother didn’t help ease that burden. If anything, she felt more pressure to do a better job. The responsibility she had towards both of her younger sisters because their mother was always busy. She had to be the one who looked after them when her father died. Her mother was so grief stricken she had neglected her own role as Al-Maudra. And as a mother. Seladon was the one who kept the Vapran clan governmental proceedings moving. Getting her mother to sign important documents was equivalent to pulling rotten teeth from a landstrider. And at the end of it all, her mother got all the credit.

That resentment had been growing inside her for years. Maybe that was what caused her to act as selfishly as she had. She had spent her whole life proving herself capable of the position of Al-Maudra. That and more. And yet, her mother didn’t seem to acknowledge any of this. Always coddled and babied Brea. And appeased Tavra, as if in some desperate attempt to keep her with the Vapra instead of running away with her Sifan lover. If Seladon had had her way, Tavra could have run off with the Sifa, or rather sailed away. Maybe then she’d still be alive. And maybe Brea could have learned a bit of responsibility that could have prepared her for what she was doing now.

The tear formed in her eye before dropping to the page under her hand. The water hit the parchment, drawing tendrils of ink with its splashes down into the other papers underneath. The collection of a detailed lie that would giver what she wanted. Maybe if she became Al-Maudra, she would be able to return everyone to the life that they had all had before. She really wished she could, but she also knew that there was no magic wand to wave. No permanent dreamfast so that everyone could simply live in the blissful past. That was impossible.

She fisted her hand on the top page, crumpling the paper but not wadding it into a ball. Small bits of the edges ripped, but not enough to tear through the page. Her fingers ripped their way through the page just enough. She grit her teeth and breathed deeply. She wouldn’t allow herself to cry again. She was above the pitiful whingings of a child. She was Vapra Clan’s Maudra. The leader they needed had to be strong. Level headed in all matters of state and steadfast in her duty to the other clans. 

She heard footsteps behind her as someone came into the room. A stiff upper lip set her face and the tear ducts she willed to seal themselves. Clenching her jaw she smoothed the top page as best she could as her uninvited guest entered the Stonewood study.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Brea said, two bowls of soup held in her hands. “I didn’t see you in the mess hall, so I thought I’d bring you some of the dinner the rest of us are having.”

Seladon remained quiet. Why was she talking as if they hadn’t had a blowup fight a few days ago? It was to let her know they were still sisters. That had to be it. Or whatever idea of sisters Brea had in her head.

Her sister set down the two bowls on the edge of the desk and went off to find a chair she could pull up. The stew had a dark colored broth that had small droplets of oil forming on its surface. She took a spoon and stirred the liquid, which brought up chopped vegetables and a few chunks of meat. She took a spoonful of the liquid and blew away the steam, carefully tasting as to not burn her tongue. It was delicious. Earthy and hearty were the best describing words.

“Kylan assures me that this is the best soup the chefs could make,” Brea said returning to the desk, chair under her arm. “Given to the Spriton guards and soldiers in the cold of winter. He says there’s nothing like it to warm you up and fill you for a night. He said it’s his favorite.”

She took her own spoonful and Seladon simply watched, still unsure of why she was acting as if nothing had happened.

“This Kylan,” she started. “You speak of him highly.”

Brea slightly paused at this remark, spoon halfway to her mouth.

“A good friend,” she said, finishing the spoons trip. Seladon noticed her demeanor change to sheepish.

“Rian is a good friend,” Seladon corrected. “Gurjin and Naia. Deethra was a good friend.”

“And I speak highly of them as well,” Brea said in defense, not meeting her sister’s careful gaze.

“Though not as often,” she added, taking another spoonful.

Brea sat in silence, eating her soup without any comment, though Seladon knew her sister and could read her like a law.

“I like him,” Seladon said.

“Well I’m not asking for your approval,” Brea said, venom creeping in.

There it was. The suppressed bitterness that Seladon knew was still there, only hidden. Considering that a small victory, she returned to her dinner. The two sat in silence for a while, the only sound was that of their slurping of the stew. Seladon got an especially tough piece of meat, which she had to chew a bit longer. In this moment, was when Brea decided to break the silence.

“And so what if I like him?” she asked accusatory. “Father wasn’t Vapran. He was Sifa.”

Seladon was still stuck chewing.

“Last I checked, the Maudra has no say on who members of their clan can love. And even if they did, there is no law that forbids it. And even if there was, it would be a stupid law that should be amended, or even downright removed.”

Seladon swallowed.

“So you do love him?” she asked through the swallow. “Is he aware?”

Brea opened her mouth, but no sound came out. There was her answer.

“I take no issue with it,” Seladon continued. “I was simply trying to make conversation.”

Brea drank the last of the broth from her bowl before letting out a deep sigh.

“I know you, Seladon,” she said. “You’re still upset from our previous fight.”

“And you sought to annoy me by acting as if nothing is wrong,” the older sister snapped back. “I was simply trying to level the playing field. And it seems to have worked.”

Brea sat back in her chair with a huff, arms crossed over the crystal shard that hung around her neck. Her posture was reminiscent of how Tavra used to pout when they were all younger.

“I don’t want a rift to form between us,” Brea said. “I can’t lose another sister.”

Seladon’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes began to burn again. She resisted the urge to reach out for as long as she could before the ache became too much. Apprehensive, she held out her hand.

Brea looked down at the outstretched palm, and for a moment Seladon believed she wouldn’t take it. And as she was readying to steal her mind and pull away, her sister reached out and grasped her hand as tightly as she could. There seemed to be a power that flowed between them. Whether a side effect of the crystal causing peripheral dreamfasting, or some other influence from beyond this living world, it was powerful enough to force relief into both of them. Not enough to cause them to cry, but just enough that they both understood the mutual pain each were feeling from their previous encounter.

“So,” Seladon said, breaking the silence. “Tell me about this Spriton.”

Brea blushed, and Seladon felt a small tug from their hands as Brea tried to pull away from the questioning. But this time there was no malice in the action. Only the discomfort one experiences when confronted with personal questions they wish not to answer. But Brea answered, to the best of her ability.

“What about him?” she asked.

Seladon shrugged. It had been a while since they had partaken in sibling banter, and this all felt odd to the eldest sister. Odd, but in a good way.

“I don’t know?” she answered, getting up to pace. “For one thing, he’s very passionate about his music. I’ve never seen a gelfling so committed to his craft. Whenever he talks about it, he gets this warmth in his eyes-”

Seladon smiled, happy to see her sister so enamored. She personally didn’t know Kylan. But from how Brea was going on, he seemed a reasonable match for her sister. She’d have to meet him to get a better read of the gelfling. And if he was anything less than what she was building him up to be…Thra help him.

~~~~~

Rian sat in the rafters, leaned against one of the support beams in the Stonewood mess hall. A place he always went when he used to be a soldier, and needed to get away from his father for a little bit. He clutched a vine of berries and one by one, picked them off to pop them in his mouth. He spat out the seeds into a small dish he had next to him to avoid them falling on the others below him. 

The hall was bustling with the dinner crowd. Gelfling were lined up to receive their nightly food ration and take a seat at one of the four long benches that stretched the hall. The clans still seemed to largely sit amongst themselves, but there was still plenty of overlap between the clans. He had hoped to see Gurjin among the droves, but then he was reminded that the Drenchen Clan had yet to return. Of the seven clans, Stonewood, Vapran and Grotton were the only clans that were still at Stone-in-the-Wood. Drenchen, Sifa, Dousan, and Spriton were still out collecting arms and soldiers for the assault on the castle. Arathim were still around though, which helped Rian sit a little at ease. The skekSis probably feared Arathim the most, given they lived in the castle for a time and knew the entire palace layout.

Rian felt…alone. Brea was almost never seen, Gurjin and Naia were out on a mission, he felt he didn’t know Kylan well enough to talk with him. And Deethra…

Deet.

Was still missing. And it ate at more than his core. It ate at something he hadn’t really considered since-

The flash of Mira being shredded down to pure essence flashed in his mind’s eye. It had been seared to the back of his eyelids. He saw it almost every time he closed his eyes. Every moment he tried to sleep, it plagued him. Jolted him awake in the middle of the night. And since the Battle for Stone-in-the-Wood, Mira’s image had been slowly morphing into the likeness of Deet. She was all that he thought about. Her and whatever she was dealing with and where. He couldn’t leave her to whatever fate awaited her alone. He wouldn’t.

“Sulking by yourself?” Mythra asked, climbing up to join him.

He wouldn’t fail anyone he loved ever again.

“I’m not sulking,” Rian said. “I just like to be alone to think.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of sulking,” his sister said, carefully sidling her way to sit cross-legged opposite from him on the same beam. “And if we looked up the definition we’d find a picture of you just like this.”

She held her fingers up to frame him between the two corners made by both of her pointers and thumbs.

“Clever,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “You still use the same childish wit you had when we were younger.”

She dropped her hands, seeing he wasn’t entirely in the mood. Her eyes scanned him while the two sat in silence.

“I think I’ve perfected my design,” she said, testing the waters.

“You never ‘think’ anything,” he said with a smirk. “Either you know it works or you don’t.”

He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“What do you really want?” Rian asked.

“Follow me,” she said, hopping up to swing off the rafters to the ground below. He watched her get to the door of the mess hall and turn around, looking up to his position. He tried to slink back into the shadows, but she still saw him and gave a little glare. He relented and set down the vine before climbing down the support beam. He brushed himself off and made his way through the crowd to his sister, who herself was now lost staring over the heads of the gelfling.

“What?” Rian asked, looking at what was distracting her. He followed her gaze until he saw Kylan sitting at a table, laughing and enjoying a meal with a Stonewood and Grottan gelfling.

“Nothing,” she said, eyes still locked ahead in admiration. “They’re cute. That’s all.”

Rian saw Brea and Seladon had joined the circle, with Brea and Kylan holding hands under the table. It made his heart lurch in a twinge of jealousy.

“There it is,” Mythra said, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. “Let’s go.”

Rian watched his sister confused as she left the mess hall, but followed after her. She walked out into the chill night air and picked up a stick as tall as her. Satisfied with the height, she promptly swung it at him.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, holding his chest where she had made contact. “What was that for?”

“You need to level your head,” she said, circling him. “I can see it in your shoulders and the way you carry yourself. You are starting to get trapped in a cycle of inaction and thinking about your problems rather than doing anything about them. It’ll paralyse you.”

She swung again and he grabbed the stick before it hit the other side of his chest. His sister jumped and landed on the middle of the makeshift staff, snapping it in two halves, before lifting her own and spinning into another attack. He was able to parry just in time, but stumbled.

Mythra smiled.

“Nothing clears your mind like a good sparring match,” she teased, waiting for him to move.

“I prefer the calming practice of meditation,” he retorted.

“Mother of Thra,” Mythra complained. “What happened to you at the palace that made you go so soft? The Rian I know loved a good fight. Never said no to one, and never backed down from one. And I know none of these…soldiers…are enough of a challenge for you. So come on.”

Rian jumped into an attack that Mythra stepped aside from and landed a blow to his back, knocking him to the ground.

“Get angry,” she said. “Let go of that growing, roiling anxiety.”

He stood and spun to face her swinging wide, but she stood still out of range.

“Don’t think,” she said. “Just act.”

She swung again, he parried and sidestepped, going for her legs. His blow made contact and she tumbled. While she scrambled to get up he swung again. She caught the stick and pulled him in, head butting him. As Rian reeled from the daze, Mythra stood up, rubbing her own cranium.

“What are you trying to accomplish again?” Rian asked.

Mythra rubbed the lump on her head before falling to the ground. She rested her back against a tree as she sat there looking up at him.

“Trying to make it feel like old times,” she said. “When we would fight as children.” 

He walked over to her, carefully, and sat down next to her.

“I feel distant,” she continued. “Like our bond has been severed. Or at the very least stripped down to a brittle thread that’ll soon snap.”

Rian simply listened. He had a feeling this had been more for her than him. Tears welled up, not just from the head strike.

“I just want things back to normal,” she said. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“No one did,” he said.

“Then why is everyone acting like everything’s fine?” she demanded.

Her question hung in the air. A breeze came, attempting to sweep it away but it remained. The stars watched on, expecting an answer. And the sounds from the dining hall echoed faintly with what to say.

“We’re not,” he said. “We’re just holding on to the important things as best we can. Because we finally realize how easily they can be taken. How little time we could have. Every moment you have to spend with the good things needs to be savoured. And that’s what they’re trying to do.”

Mythra breathed deeply.

“I miss mom,” she said. “And I miss dad.”

Rian looked up at the crucible. It burned bright and hot, ready for the forging of blades. The same forge that had existed during Ordon’s time, and stood now during his son’s. It was in that moment Rian realized, in a way, his father still lived on.

“I miss them too,” she said, pulling his sister in to a hug. She hugged him back. That thread wasn’t going to break anytime soon. He wouldn’t let it.

A horn sounded and Rian sat up a bit straighter. Mythra sat up as well, wiping her weeping eyes.

“What’s that?” she asked.

Another horn sounded, distant but getting closer.

“A clan is returning,” he said, standing and starting a jog to the gate. His sister followed behind him.

The sound had drawn out a large crowd of gelfling from the dining hall who were all congregating outside to see what was happening. The Gates opened and the Dousan pulled themselves through, ragged, beaten and with less than what Rian had hoped they’d return with.

“Maudra Seethi,” he greeted.

From atop the cart she was being pulled on, she flashed a look that told him not to ask how her voyage was. He wasn’t going to ask, but all the same he nodded in understanding. He went forward and assisted Rek’yr in helping the Maudra to the ground.

“We were intercepted by a sandstorm,” Rek’yr said. “Made more powerful by the darkening stripping power from the land.”

“Do you need any assistance?” he asked, waving for some gelfling to help the Dousan with their carts.

“It would be much appreciated,” Erimon said, handing a crate down to Rian, who was forced to take it to prevent it from falling.

“How are the affairs here?” Seethi asked.

Rian handed the crate to another gelfling before going to speak with the Maudra.

“We have yet to hear from any other clans,” he said. “The skekSis remain locked away in their tower. Emissaries have been sent to Grot due to Maudra Argot falling ill.”

“Ill?” Seethi asked.

Rek’yr coughed to clear his lungs. The timing seemed eerie.

“She had some sort of vision,” Rian said. “She’s been stuck in a state of, I don’t know, suspended dread ever since. I was hoping some of your healers could tend to her.”

“There is little we can do for an addled mind,” she said with a hint of poison. “But I will see what they can do.”

“My many thanks, Maudra.”

He gave a small bow and Seethi curtly nodded before walking over to her sandmasters, signing to them in the hand language they used.

“Stonewood warrior!!!” screamed a grating voice.

“skekSis!” shouted the guards.

“NO!” Seethi demanded. “Hold your spears.”

Rian looked towards the commotion. skekGra sat in a cart hands held high with a blanket wrapped around his body, his skekSis carapace was missing. Next to him in the same cart was urGoh. The mystic was still slowly raising his hands, eyes slowly going wide as his mouth opened in shock.

“This skekSis assisted us in the desert and is paired with this urRu,” Seethi explained. “They are friends of the gelfling and allies.”

“I can attest to this,” Brea called. She had joined the crowd and had pushed through to block the soldiers' spears.

“As can I,” Rian said. “Lower your arms.”

The gelfling were confused, and remained still.

“That’s an order,” Rian affirmed.

One by one, and slowly, the soldiers held the spears with tips skyward. skekGra held the blanket around him as he jumped from the cart, as urGoh slowly and steadily pulled himself over the edge and carefully lowered himself to the ground with equally soft groans of effort. A Dousan handed the mystic his staff and he slowly took it to support himself.

“Join…the…resistance…efforts…we…”

“We have come to join the resistance efforts,” skekGra quickly finished for his other half. “Yes, yes, yes. We’ve come to offer our aid. But first, a comfortable place to sleep would be most welcome. I such places can be afforded of course. If not-”

“It’s good to see you again,” Brea said, coming up and cutting off The Heretic’s ramblings.

“Good?” skekGra said with a hint of confusion. “Yes. Yes I suppose it is.”

“Is Hup with you?” she asked. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Rian had almost forgotten about the podling.

“Indeed,” Rian added. “I’ve found myself missing his bravery and courageous spirit.”

“We sent him ahead,” skekGra blurted. “Sent him away before confronting fellow skekSis.”

Rian paused.

“You confronted the skekSis?”

“More like…they…confronted…us,” urGoh heaved.

“Circle of The Suns is destroyed,” skekGra said matter of factly. “Anyway, we need a new place to set up home. Will here be okay?”

The skekSis looked around, seemingly scanning for a place that looked good enough.

Rian took a moment to look to Brea. If skekGra had sent Hup ahead of them, why hadn’t he arrived? Where was he? She shared his worry. The podling was brave, yes, but sometimes that bravery could get the better of him. Like back at the Circle of The Suns, when he had protected Deet from skekMal. He received serious injury, the reason they had to leave him behind. It would have been nice to see him again, but perhaps he had gotten held up, helping a podling village fight off blighted creatures or some such. Or maybe-

Rian held onto the thought, but buried it in his mind. If Hup was with Deet he felt a little better. But it was only a possibility. Still, a glimmer of hope started to glow in his chest.

“There,” urGoh said, slowly raising a hand to point towards a piling of rock that held up an overhang of dirt. A cave that had formed from disposing of any bedrock that had gotten in the way of building the wall around Stone-in-the Wood.”

“Would you prefer-”

“No,” urGoh interrupted. “There…will…be…fine. We will…build…our…”

“There will be fine we’ll build our own home from the debris,” skekGra spat. “And don’t waste resources on us, we are strong and self-sufficient.”

The skekSis and mystic walked to the pile and started lifting stones and setting aside. skekGra moved faster, but urGoh was slower and more precise.

“I feel our odds are improving significantly,” Brea said, giving a little friendly punch to Rian’s shoulder.

He remained lost in thought and watching the two work on their new home.

“Are you going to add Hup to your searches?” she asked, matching his tone.

Rian was silent for a moment.

“No,” he said.

“What?”

“The only reason Hup wouldn’t meet us is if he found Deet,” he said. “They’ll keep each other safe.”

“But it’s not a guarantee,” Brea said, shock melting into her face.

Sadness seeped from the facade of content in Rian’s face.

“I have to focus on those here,” he said walking off, to hide his face before his real feelings came out.

Brea reached up to hold the crystal shard in her hand, which had grown cold and, she felt was losing its comforting heat.

Chapter Text

The swamp was silent. Unnaturally so. An occasional cricket chirped, but there was no sound aside from that. It was as if Sog itself was both aiding their approach, while challenging them at the same time. If they couldn’t do this, they didn’t have what it took to save their people. If they did, Thra was saved.

The Maudra’s Guard crawled through the waters. Just under the surface, their gills allowed them to breathe under the water. They remained submerged, pulling themselves stealthily through the roots of apeknot trees and tangles of water weeds. Not a ripple did they make, and never once did they break the water. The most Onica could see from her boat was the occasional small surge of water when one got close to surfacing, but they never did. She stood at the bow, arm wrapped around her new Drenchen spear as she leaned on it. The rest of her crew rowed and pulled the small skiff out of the swamp, with aid from those underneath their hull.

They hit a snag of root, causing the boat to judder and the Sifa held on to her spear with the other hand to steady herself. She felt she was on some ætherial river of the damned, captaining a ship of lost and doomed souls across the waters teaming with spirits waiting to drag them in. The  Drenchen were allies, but their ability to swim so silently through the water was scary. She heaved a sigh and the swamp recoiled. The sound, though soft and light, bit through the silence like a knife.

They reached Great Smerth and Onica’s boat stopped at the clearing. The city sat in suspended apprehension. Three Sifan warships, fully armed and ready for an assault, sat in their waters just waiting for an excuse. They stayed hidden within the shadows of apeknot trees, protected from the scanning eyes of Fenth’s patrols on land.

“Once we’ve disarmed the explosives around the tree, we’ll rally the troops.”

Gurjin had surfaced right next to the skiff, sending small, barely noticeable ripples through the water. Only his head stuck out, the water lapping around his neck and throat. His eyes were two orbs of white, reflecting what little light shone through the dense canopy of the swamp.

“Once the tree is safe,” he continued whispering. “We move to taking the ships. Distract him and buy us time. When it’s time to launch the attack, you’ll know.”

“How much time do you need?” Onica asked.

“All the time you can give me,” he answered. “Wait until the first signal before rowing out. Let us get into position.”

Onica nodded.

Gurjin dunked his head back under the water like a sea creature diving, barely making a sound and adding to the eerily animalistic way the Drenchen moved through the water. She occasionally saw dark shapes under the surface crawling and swimming towards the shore under them.

“I hope this plan works,” Belrig said.

“You don’t trust my guard?” Laesid asked.

The Maudra was wrapped in a Sifa cloak, disguised amongst Onica’s crew with an oar in her hand, surprisingly strong for her age.

“No,” the Sifa responded. “We’ve just put everything into this one plan. If it doesn’t work-”

“I don’t do half-measures,” Laesid said. “This works, or we all die. The only way to ensure victory is guaranteeing failure as not an option.”

Onica smirked at the Maudra’s will. It was endearing, and one of the few things that kept her confident and wanting to continue fighting. Maudra Lesid of The Drenchen Clan was a force to be reckoned with. She would be needed to fight the skekSis, and Onica was determined to keep her protected.

The silence was disrupted by the call of a nightlark. One distant call that rang through the trees that caused a chorus of other calls to wave through the trees before silencing once more.

“That’s our que,” the Muadra said, dipping her oar into the water.

“Yes, Maudra.”

~~~~~

“We’ve received word from The Dreadnought ,” the first mate said, arms crossed behind him. “The swamps are too dense and they will meet us on the open ocean.”

“Figures,” Fenth said, leaning back on the desk chair in his cabin, his feathered hat hung on part of the chair’s crest.  “I didn’t expect her to follow us. And her ship is too big anyway. She’d rather hunt her leviathan than make any effort to assist us.”

He rubbed the bandage around his throat. Onica had left him a surface wound. Barely broke the skin, and nowhere near an artery, but now he had an unsightly gash that he had to wait to scar over. Until then he would wear the collar of bandages. His hand though, at least it had been his nondominant one. Severe damage had been done to the tendons and he had on a strange sort of hand brace. It kept the digits still so he could heal properly without risk of further damages, or tearing his tendons entirely.

“Captain?” the first mate asked. “May I ask a question?”

“Freely,” Fenth nodded.

“Why do we continue to wait for a Maudra who may not arrive?”

Fenth smiled, twirling a sextant on the desk with his finger. A small chuckle escaped his parting lips.

“A few reasons,” Fenth said. “I knew The Dreadnought and her captain wouldn’t be able to make it down the Black River. I bought us some time away from her, without our necks being breathed down every second.”

The first mate nodded in understanding.

“We may be on the same side,” Fenth continued. “But I have greater ambitions than pleasing The Emperor. I need time to think and strategize without her watching my every move. Secondly, as much as the swamp is a cesspool of rot and filth that burns the nose, there are various exotic goods we are now privy to help ourselves too. Foods that we otherwise wouldn’t be able to eat, drink that hardens the liver, etc. I know you’ve come to love your Drenchen sapshine.”

The first mate sheepishly reached into his belt and pulled out a flask of the alcohol, helping to prove Fenth’s point. Fenth held out his hand. The first mate didn’t understand the gesture until Fenth raised an eyebrow and he handed the flask over. The captain uncorked the vessel and took a quick swig before handing it back. The first mate did the same before slipping the flask back into his belt. 

“Thirdly,” the captain continued, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “The Maudra Laesid is a proud individual. She will come. Once word makes it to the resistance that her clan is held captive, she will make her way here to try and negotiate. And we will be waiting to capture her. A-”

There was a sudden knock on the door that cut off their conversation.

“Captain!” someone called from outside.

“Enter,” Fenth answered, standing from his desk.

The pirate entered in a bit of a rush. Whatever their business, it had a small air of urgency.

“It’s Onica sir,” they said. “She and her crew have returned.”

Fenth inhaled deeply through his nose as he rubbed the top of his head, wrapped in a pale-red bandana.

“Kill her,” he ordered, clasping his hand. “She had her chance.”

“Yes sir.”

“Wait,” the captain called.

Opening a drawer, he pulled out the table knife Onica had stabbed him with. He tucked it into his waistband.

“ I’ ll do it.”

~~~~~

The Smerth-Staba tree was dim and silent with the lull of nightly musings. Guards stood at their posts, with pirate patrols walking through the streets enforcing their own air of control. But like all still and stale air, the smallest breeze could disturb it, causing a breakdown. Naia was preparing to unleash a hurricane all at once.

The Maudra’s Guard silently stepped to the massive trunk. Charges of tampered fireworks made up the explosives tied to the tree. If the blast from the bombs didn’t topple the trunk, she’d be up in flames within a few minutes. And with her the rest of Sog, no doubt.  Each charge had to be separated from each other. The ignition lines and explosives had to be cut and drenched to make lighting any of them impossible. Luckily, Onica knew about Sifa bombs. And Smerth-Staba was on the water.

Gurjin and two other guards hovered in the water, eyes just above the surface as they scanned the area. No pirates in sight. He unsheathed two knives and held them blade down. The other guards used them as picks to scale the side of Smerth-Staba. The blades would do little damage to the great tree, and it would heal quickly. They climbed their way up to the first charge. Other groupings were doing the same.

At the bomb, Gurjin hung on with one hand, his knife dug into the tree. Taking hold of the fuse, he carefully twisted until he was able to pull it free. He pulled the casing from the trunk and held it out, dumping the powder into the water below. Next to him, the other gelfling sawed through the fuses on either side of the bomb. Extra insurance just in case the fuse was lit, the flame would never reach the powder or other charges. He gave a thumbs up to his two compatriots, who returned the gesture once their work was done. They took up their other knives and began scaling around, following the fuse line.

~~~~~

The pirates looked down from their ships, small silhouettes that rose from the shipdeck. Onica was acutely aware of the guns and cannons aimed at her and the rest of her small boat and crew. She gripped her spear all the tighter, hoping it might shield her if anything were to come at her. There was the chance they would be shot out of the water any moment, but she knew Fenth. That is, she had heard the stories. If he was anything like she gathered, he would want to savour this.

“Well well well,” he sneered from the deck, holding up a lantern that illuminated his face. “Look who came crawling back. Swamp too mucky for your refined garments and skin?”

She’d feed his ego.

“Needed some time to consider your proposal,” she called back. “Out of the stench that comes from your brig.”

Fenth drummed the fingers of his free hand on the ship's railing. Placing the lantern down, he held up the bandaged one so that it was visible in the lamp light. The cloth was all white, except for two spots of blood on the palm and back of his hand.

“You must be either stupid,” he said, examining his hand. “Or a fool to come back here after what you’ve done.”

Onica flicked her head to toss a lock of hair out of her eye. It was also so she could catch a glimpse of the tree, trying to see how close the Drenchen were to being done. But she saw no one.

“They are working,” Laesid whispered. “Keep him distracted.”

“I can’t help it,” she called. “As a Sifa yourself, you know the ocean calls to me.”

Fenth exhaled through his nose. Loud enough that she heard it from the water.

“You tried to wipe out my entire clan and all I did was stab you in the hand,” she said.

“And nicked my throat,” he added. “The way I see it, you’re still owed a death or two.”

“I’ll agree I’m owed a few,” Onica said. “But to pursue that now would be a suicide mission. I’m willing to put my feelings aside to serve under the winning side. Consider it a debt.”

“Debt?” 

Fenth’s question caused a stir amongst his pirates. A small murmur that wound up into a giggle.

“We are pirates,” Fenth sneered. “We don’t deal in debts.”

“Oh come on,” Onica pleaded with a smirk. “What fun is ruling the ocean if there isn’t someone you’re constantly taking it back from?”

Fenth seemed to consider this proposal. From her place on the boat, she couldn’t get a good enough read of his features. He dipped his head and hid behind his hand, conversing with his first-mate. She turned to look at the shore.  Still, she did not see the Drenchen, which meant no one else could. Plan was working so far.

~~~~~

After brief deliberation, he turned back to her.

“I have heard your proposition,” he called back. “And I have one of my own. You, and me, one-on-one combat. Winner takes all.”

Onica seemed to consider this, looking over her shoulder considering her crew. After her own time of consideration, she looked back.

“I need more detailed terms.”

Fenth squeezed his fist behind his back until he thought his hand would open up and bleed again. She was getting under his skin, trying to make him lose his head. He deeply inhaled and let out a shaking breath to calm his growing nerves. It wouldn’t work.

“We use the same weapon,” he said. “I win. No harm will befall your crew unless they refuse to join mine. In which case they will be locked back in the brig for the skekSis to do with as they see fit. My plan with the Drenchen will proceed as planned. What would you like?”

“I get one of your ships,” she said. “Your crew disembarks, take your two other ships and leave Sog, never to return. I’ll meet you out on the open ocean.”

“No harm to my crew?” he asked.

“So long as you don’t harm mine.”

Fenth bit his lip. He pulled the butter knife from his belt.

“Deal,” he agreed. “Care to come aboard?”

“No tricks,” she snarled.

He held up his hands, clearly displaying the blade in the lantern light. He looked at her, and she looked back with vile understanding. Nonetheless, she motioned for her crew to row up to the side of the warship. 

Fenth nodded for the rope ladder to be lowered.

“If they try anything,” he said to his crew. “Kill them all.”

They all sneered back with contained glee. He held his first mate aside as the rest of the crew dispersed to prepare for the duel. 

“No matter what happens,” he said, handing the butter knife over. “If I win, or if she starts gaining the upper hand, kill the Drenchen Maudra.”

The first-mate took the knife, tucking it into his vest.

“Aye sir.”

~~~~~

They wouldn’t be able to take out all of them. But that wasn’t the plan. They only had to take out the patrols that were walking the port. The ones that would see the systematic removal of their crew.

A pirate, in the guise of a Drenchen guard, walked down a small jetty. He stood at the end of the dock, looking out as the Onica and her crew boarded Fenth’s flagship. He stood slack, most of his weight leaning on one leg. 

Naia sprang from the water like a snake, grabbing the gelfling’s leg and pulling it out from under him. His head cracked against stone before she dragged him into the swamp and held him under the water. His unconscious lungs did most of the work, breathing in the water. On the surface, ripples faded to nothing.

The swamp remained silent.

The Drenchen Maudra guard simultaneously dispatched their own targets. Some took out two, but most like Naia only had one. A sudden knife from a dark alley, an arrow or dart from the trees, a noose from some vines. The pirates were killed, and dragged into the swamp which was now their grave, buried under mud and peat. No more than food for the many creatures of Thra’s swamps. 

The swamp remained silent.

The docks were empty of the current patrols, but more would be coming to shift in. And they did. No sooner had a new group realized their counterparts were missing, Naia and her secret guard pulled them to their doom. Naia was thankful they were doing this at night. She started to smell and taste the blood in the water as she filtered it through her gills. Had the sun been out, she knew the water would be running purple. 

The secret guard held their positions until the lack of patrol replacements gave them the cue.

~~~~~

Gurjin cut the fuse and sliced open his last charge. A shrill pimlin call sounded through the forest. He responded with his own gizzizzy water trill. A sontonic hooted and his group had their orders. They slipped down the tree, back into the water. Joining up with Naia under the surface, the entire remaining Drenchen guard was silently under the water surface. A hand signal from Naia and they began swimming to deeper water, out to the boats.

~~~~~

Onica felt the weight of the rapier as it was handed to her. She did her best to drown out the sound of the pirates jeering and yelling, placing bets on when she would fall. She swung it a few times, tossing it from left to right hand. She flourished the tip of the blade, hearing the ring of metal as it cut through the air. She would have preferred a spear, but she had agreed to this. And he didn’t have to win, just delay. She paced back and forth along her half of the dueling circle that had been drawn onto the deck of the still ship. Despite it being the middle of the night, lantern light flooded the deck enough to make it seem like day.

She looked back at her crew, armed themselves to the teeth for their own protection. Even Maudra Laesid held a spear, though she wouldn’t be able to use it if it came to that. Onica wouldn’t let it come to that. She had been trained in single sword combat by Tavra in the time she was on land. The pacing and swinging was her trying to recall what she remembered. The actions did their job, but awakened memories she had repressed. 

“An enemy may lead with their right foot but still attack from the left,” she heard Tavra say. “Watch my eyes.”

What beautiful eyes they were. Green and vibrant like a pair of mint apples. They were not looking at hers though. They darted over her whole body as the attacks came. Right. Left. Center jab. Right jab. Left swing. She was stepping closer and closer until the two were a breath apart. Her eyes darted down to her legs and Tavra swept them out from under her. As fast as she was, she swiftly threw an arm under Onica’s waist to catch her before she hit the ground.

“Most of the time before a strike,” she explained. “The eyes will dart to momentarily scan the changing landscape of your form before going into an attack.”

She pulled Onica up so she was standing again. The Sifa lay a hand on the Vapran’s chest to catch herself from falling too far forward.

“I’ve seen duelists who don’t break eye contact at all during a fight,” she said. “What about them?”

“Even the most proficient duelists need to check the changing scenery and your stance. You could switch forms or tactics mid-fight. Never break eye contact.”

Onica stood still in the center of her space, grounding herself back in the present moment. The blade in her hand felt heavier than before and she gripped it tighter.

They had found shade under the shade of a sugarwood tree. It sat amongst a cluster of other trees on a cliff that overlooked the Silver Sea. Her ship was down below, readying to leave the shores once more. This time, she wasn’t sure when she’d be back.

“You could always stay,” Tavra said, running a hand through Onica’s hair. “Travel with me across the land. If not forever then as long as you like.”

The Vapran sat with her back against the tree and the Sifa lay on the grass with her head in her lap.

“The sea is in my blood,” Onica replied, looking up at the blossoms blooming in the canopy overhead. “It calls to me, and I can’t ignore it. You could always come with me, you know.”

“I don’t have proper sea legs,” Tavra rebutted. “You saw me on a ship for a few moments. Imagine a year or so of that?”

“You’d get used to it.”

Tavra sighed. 

The sun was setting, and the ships had to leave by nightfall, in keeping with Sifa tradition. A beautiful sight stung with bitterness.

“I’ll miss you,” Onica said, raising a hand to caress her cheek.

“I know,” she answered, taking gentle hold of her wrist. “But you’ll be back. And I’ll be here. As always.”

A breeze wafted through the trees, carrying wisps of pollen, small bugs, and dislodging some flower petals from the tree blossoms.

“The distance between us seems to get longer every time we part,” she said.

Tavra lowered Onica’s hand from her cheek. She ran a finger over Onica’s forehead, parting the hair from her face. She reached to one wrist and unclasped one of her cuffs. A matching identical set that used to belong to the Vapran’s grandmother.

“I gift this to you,” she said.

Onica looked between Tavra’s face and the cuff. The soft glow of the sun glinted in the intricate silverworks of the jewelry. The specks of light danced across her face and lit up Tavra’s as stars in the coming night sky.

“I couldn't,” she whispered. “To take something from you…You don’t know if I could lose it. I don’t know if I will lose it.”

“Just clasp it around your wrist as such,” Tavra explained, taking Onica’s hand and bending the metal to better fit her arm.

“I can’t take a family heirloom.”

Tavra finished fitting the bracelet to Onica’s wrist and held her arm close to her.

“You are family,” she said. “This bracelet claims it is so. As long as you wear this, we will always return to one another.

The memory left Onica with a warmth in her face and a soft tremble in her lips. The bracelet added more weight to her sword arm.

A chorus of pirate cheers raised across the deck as Fenth walked forward. The sea of crew members parted to make way for their captain. He removed his hat and jacket, handing it to his first mate. He took a large, ornate talisman from his belt and screwed it into the top cap of his walking cane. In a flourish he pulled his own blade from its wooden sheath and the pirates cried out in an uproar. The metal was so well polished that it caught the lamplight appearing as if it were on fire. Like the Omerya-Staba tree.

I will be with you always.

Onica set her jaw, rolled her shoulders, and cracked her neck. She held up the blade and stood at the ready. Fenth stepped into the duel circle with roaring applause. If either of them stepped out now, the duel was over and they were forfeit.

“You are aware of the rules?” Fenth asked.

“Well aware,” Onica said.

The pirate captain swung his sword up in front of his face and flourished it as he took a bow. Onica kept hers simple. They took their positions, swords crossed over the middle of the circle.

“Step back!” Onica’s second called.

“Fight!”

Fenth strode forward, dragging his blade across hers until they were locked up and pushing against each other. Onica struggled against the sudden offensive. The call from Fenth’s second had been dirty, but planned and well within the rules of the duel. He smirked with sadistic intention. She didn’t have good footing and she couldn’t risk changing her balance to get a better stance. There was only one thing she could think to do.

Onica suddenly let her muscles let up and fell with Fenth’s push. She landed on her back with a thud. Fenth fell after her and she curled her aching body to kick Fenth to the side away from her. She made contact with his right side and she went sprawling on the ground. He caught himself before rolling out of the circle. He stood and circled around her as she picked herself up.

“Clever,” he wheezed. “That kick got me pretty good. But I’m willing to bet your fall left you in worse shape.”

She drew in a ragged breath before standing tall again. 

He was right. The fall had been stupid. They were back on even footing, but this early in the fight and the fact that she was already aching didn’t bode well for her. 

Fenth lunged forward and Onica parried as she stepped to the side. She wobbled and had to keep standing to prevent falling out of the circle. Fenth pursued her, slowly stalking forward with his sword at the ready. He landed a few goading taps on her sword. She tapped back in response. Fenth halted his advances, relaxing to let Onica stand across from him.

“I feel it’s only fair we get back to even footing,” he sneered. 

The cheering had quieted down. There were still murmurs and whispers throughout the crowd but the screaming of the pirates died down. There was now only a tense apprehension that held the air in a chokehold.

Onica breathed in and her lungs filled fully with a popping in her back. She squeezed the hilt of her rapier and stood at the ready. Fenth took up his own stance, and the two began a proper beginning to the duel.

“What is it you plan on gaining?” he asked.

“A ship,” she said. “And a way out of here.”

She stepped forward and swung a few arcs. Fenth blocked and swept his own swing across her body. The tip of the blade sang in the air, barely missing her midriff.

“You’ll fail either way,” he retorted.

He whipped the sword around with a few flicks of his wrist and Onica struggled to keep up with the blocks and parries. She lost her footing and stumbled, her head landed near the line of the circle, but she remained inside.

“You lose,” Fenth continued. “You die. You win? You get your ship, sure. But then out on the open sea, my other ships will be waiting for you. You’ll be sunk, and you’ll die.”

“You talk too much,” she said, throwing out a flurry of her own blows. Fenth coolly blocked and parried each one. And though he had started this volley in a retreat, he was now playing defensive as he stepped forward.

She swung and he swung to meet her. The clang sent a reverberation through her wrist, up her arm, and into her shoulder. Fenth let his grip loosen at just the right time to absorb the impact. Onica’s entire right side of her upper torso was ringing.

“In the limited time I’ve known you, you’ve always had a mind for strategy. You don't jump in unless you have a few backup plans. Or at least a plan to keep your crew safe. This one, I’ve looked at each and every way and I can't see any way that this benefits you.”

Onica switched the sword to her left arm and stabbed forward. Fenth parried but she didn’t let up. She jabbed forward again and again and again. Pushing Fenth further back towards the edge of the circle.

“You could have stayed in the swamp, hiding out for the rest of your days.”

Fenth twisted his sword and locked up with Onica’s blade again. Given she was using her nondominant hand, he could have pushed back and sent her over. But he didn’t.

“Take this situation we find ourselves in,” he continued, just loud enough for her to hear, but not enough for any of the onlookers to understand his words. “I am currently on the edge of the circle, and in an off-balanced position.”

His feet were parallel to each other and he had no support for his front or back. 

“Now you could push me, just a slight ounce of pressure to send me down and you’d win. Yet you don’t. Why is that?”

“Maybe I want to kill you,” she growled.

His eyes widened in feigned surprise.

Her arm had recovered enough for her to reach forward and grab his shirt, she dropped the lock and pulled him back in towards the center, throwing him to the ground. He kept himself on his feet, stumbling a little.

“If that were the case you should have said so from the start,” he yelled. “Fine then. To the death.”

The pirates roared with approval and Fenth advanced much more aggressively. She switched her blade back to her dominant hand in time to parry his first blow. Fenth was fast. Practically charging forward his sword flashed across Onica’s vision and she swung haphazardly hoping to block what she could. A few times their blades made contact with a strong ring. She nearly tripped over her feet with how quickly she was fleeing the fury of the captain's onslaught. 

She felt the rail against her back and Fenth slammed three strong consecutive hits into her blade. No skill or finesse to them. Just barbaric swings that jammed up her arm and broke her down until she was held on the ground with the tip of his sword against the underside of her chin.

“Any last words?” Fenth said, his coy smile faded to a terrifying bloodlust rage.

“I don’t fight fair,” Naia said.

An arrow shot through the dark, a second too late as Fenth spun. The arrow embedded itself an inch from Onica’s head and she felt as if her soul left her body.

~~~~~

Naia grabbed Fenth’s sword arm and struck him in the nose. He reeled back, but kept his grip until the drenchen jumped over his arm to twist his hand, and kicked out his knee which collapsed him. She pulled a knife from her clothes and drove it towards Fenth’s back, but he balled the fist of his twisted hand and punched forward. Naia didn’t let go in time and was thrown over Fenth’s shoulder to the deck. He jumped on top and laid in a few punches before another blade at his throat.

He lunged backwards before the blade could slit his skin, toppling over the new asailant with a backwards headbut. He spun, kicking Naia in the shin to keep her down a second longer before sweeping another leg under Gurjin as he jumped out of the way just in time. Fenth remained crouched in a brawler's position between the two siblings. He swayed on the balls of his feet as a smile returned to his face.

“I would reconsider your position,” he said.

“Naia,” Gurjin called.

She risked a glance at her brother, who motioned for her to look behind. She turned and saw a hulking gelfling holding a knife to her mothers throat. In the chaos, he had slipped behind the Maudra, and taken her hostage.

“Easy gelfling,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to hurt your Muadra now, would we?”

Naia remained stationary.

“Men,” Fenth said, standing slowly. “Send the signal.”

A trumpet sounded in the dark, breaking the silence.

Nothing happened, and Fenth’s smile dropped.

“Your explosives?” Gurjin asked.

Fenth turned to him.

The drenchen held up a few lengths of fuse chord in his hand.

Fenth looked to the rest of his crew and out over the water to the deathly quiet other two ships. And no sign of his men along the docks either. He saw shadows crawling along the gangplanks and up in the rigging. He understood what was happening. Then something happened that no one had suspected.

“We surrender,” he said. He raised his hands and stood still.

“Captain?” the first mate asked.

 The rest of the pirates looked confused, exchanging glances.

“Men put up your arms,” he said. “Raise your arms or you’ll be killed.”

A few raised their arms.

“That’s an order from your captain.”

The rest followed.

~~~~~

Within an hour, the pirates were rounded up and locked in the brigs of the three warships, or in the prison back in the city.

“I don’t like it,” Onica said. “It was too easy.”

“I agree,” Naia said. “They gave up too fast.”

“The way I see it,” Maudra Laesid chided. “The resistance has three of the toughest Sifan warships at their disposal. We can sail these right up the River Stile and drop anchor right outside the skekSis front doorstep. I say we move now while we can. And quickly.”

The Maudra turned and closed the door to the captain’s cabin.

“We should at least keep eyes on Fenth,” Onica said.

“He’s in a cell all to himself,” Naia reassured. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“It's not him I’m worried about,” she said.

Naia took Onica aside, under a set of stairs that lead up to the helm.

“What’s eating at you?” she asked when they were in more seclusion.

“There’s another ship out there,” she said. “Bigger than these three, much bigger. Definitely wouldn’t fit down the river. I think we’re sailing into a trap.”

Naia considered her words.

“Trap or not,” she said. “The Muadra has a point. We have three Sifan warships and crew consisting of Drenchen clan warriors and Sifan sailors. I think we could take whatever lies in wait.”

“I strongly advise caution,” Onica stressed. “Fenth alone proved to be a more formidable opponent than we thought. He has something planned.”

“All the more reason he is secluded from the rest of his crew and under strict and careful guard.”

Onica nodded. She still didn’t like it.

“Shall we?” Naia asked.

The Sifa stepped out of the shadows.

“Row us up the river!” Onica called out to her crew. “We set sail for the Castle of the Crystal.”

“Aye, captain!”

Oars protruded from the hull of the warship, rowing the massive boat from the swamp. They were followed by the other two ships, armed with Drenchen and remaining Sifan clan members, all ready to take the palace for themselves. Back from the skekSis.

Naia looked at the Smerth tree. Up high in the canopy, she saw her father and younger sisters on the balcony of the Maudra’s home. They looked down at the leaving ships and Naia risked a small wave. They waved back, and she swallowed the unease in her throat. Their victory seemed certain, but something was nagging at the back of her mind.