Chapter 30: When It all goes Wrong

Dearest Father and Almighty Protector, We ask for your grace tonight, despite our pride. Your forgiveness, despite our doubt. Most of all Father, we ask for your love to soothe us through these dark times. 

 

Grant us yet another day… 

 

But please, take it away from me, take it all away from me…

 

Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Waiting D.43, Goblins

Yorm:

      The hush in the air as the snow fell in great sheets left little to notice as we sat watching the road. I had scouts running up and down the roads through the canopy for days now. I had no reason to keep my crew busy, there was nothing to hunt, there was nothing to raid, there was no glory to earn. 

      I had been sitting still for so long that the snow had begun to coat me and my thick leather armor, a gift from that human she had recruited into the Family. He spent days tailoring it to me, matching dyes to blend in with my evergreen skin, the subtle brown and gray allowing me to blend into the background in a way I hadn’t thought possible. Perhaps she was right in that aspect, he was useful to the clan. 

      Even that thought though, rage burned as she came to mind again. Her insubordination, her disrespect to me, her refusal to acknowledge me as her Chief properly. I am the Father, I am Bhal’s chosen one to lead the clan. I had proved myself, I had earned my right to rule, I had sacrificed my friend in the dream of a better tomorrow. Had I not suffered with the clan for what Bhal demanded of us? 

      My mood had only soured more when the crunching snow behind me caught my attention. I had been expecting Knoll’s voice, not that young whelp I had chosen. Out of anger, I didn’t care, I had chosen at random for who my second in command would be. The look Knoll gave me when I demanded an apology from the girl, scorched its way into my memory. Fury. 

      I couldn’t trust him any longer, his sympathies to the girl were far too obvious. His constant arguing with me over her and her tactics. His obstinate refusal to follow the path of glory I had laid out for the clan, he had tried to tell me something. I don’t remember what he said, I was too busy throwing jabs and dodges at him to listen. 

      He knocked me out cold eventually, he was a better punch than I remembered him being. One solid knock and he laid me out. I awoke in the dark tavern, the smell of my own piss and stale spirits thick in the air. But here I was again, back in the here and now, some of the snow began to melt off me, my face growing red with my anger. 

      The boy tried to tell me something, but I didn't listen to him while I continued to watch the road. Vapid noise to a silent backdrop, he waited patiently for me to answer, but never received one. Eventually he walked off, leaving me to brood alone anyway. I sent my commander, Cori, away, that insolent child. 

      Back swimming in that moment, when I had regained enough composure to sit back up in the broken tavern, I heard her snort in disgust. My vision swam, turning my head toward her, “Some great and mighty warrior you are. You refuse to listen, Yorm.” Cori hissed. I felt my blood pressure rise with her comment, but she continued anyway. “Here you sit making enemies instead of fixing bridges. Why? She has amazing ideas, yet you refuse to listen to them, give them credence. Why?” 

      She swaggered out of the tavern, leaving me to marinate in her words. Both Knoll and Cori, my top fighters. My most influential commanders, both candidates in my mind for years to become Raid Leaders themselves. I gave them to Hob, they’d do less damage to the Clan’s morale there. I had been keeping Hob busy with constant scouting missions for weeks, trying to keep him away from Ilgor and her poisoned words. But, then again…

      I did catch them, my vision turned red at that argument again. I just couldn’t shake it, I let a daughter of the Clan have such sway over me. I barked an order out to the quiet air, the young whelp dropped from a tree, to land lithely in front of me. 

      “Yes, Father? What would you have me do?” He looked despondent, like he didn’t trust me. 

      “I want to know what that noise coming from Willowbrook is. It sounds like a machine engine those humans are fond of. Hunt it down, bring that information back to me.” The command only came to mind, I didn’t even realize there was a low hum coming from down the road until after I said it. 

      Old tricks my Chief, my Father taught me. Be aware of your surroundings, even when you aren't paying attention. The whelp took off at lop, climbing back into the trees, launching himself from branch to branch with ease. My knees popped and cracked as I got up from the pile of snow that had accumulated on me. 

      A swift movement, and my axe was back in hand. I took off, barely noticing the heavy snow as I followed the whelp. Maybe I should have bothered to know his name, maybe it didn’t matter. 

      I caught up to him slowly stalking behind a richly laid caravan, thick armored plating, a decent sized garrison of legitimate soldiers. It was slowly getting dark, the wet snow hiding the boy's footsteps well. He had already brought a few of the other raiders to stalk the machine, I saw them moving through the darkening trees. 

      Sloppy, I could see them. That meant so could a watchful human, this being a professional looking outfit, the risk was high. The boy had managed to sneak his way under the machine and hold onto the bottom, I saw his ears flare out to listen better, another risky move. Our ears are the most notable feature, easy to spot. I whistled, a bird's call, snowjay. “Come to me, group up.”

      The whelp had dropped from the bottom of the machine, into a deep pocket of powder snow. Disappearing into the background, the group marched past him without ever knowing he was there. Fifty paces, popping back out and sprinting back to me. 

      By the time he had returned, breathless, the other raiders had gathered round. Sentries perched in the high canopy of the thin dry leaf cover, those old oaks refused to give them up so easily. The few crossbows and firearms we had in the clan formed up to encircle the area, all it took to get the boy talking was a raised brow.

      “Foreigners, the core group, don't speak common. One spoke well, well informed. The Guard around them are from the City, part of their army. Trained, looking for us in the trees. I didn’t hear that commander say anything about spotting us, they don’t know we are here. Traveling heavy, rich accommodations. Strange clothing, too bright to be for anything besides the city.” He finished, “I think this is the group Illy…”

      “Enough” I cut him off, I didn’t want to hear her name. With a nod to the group, I reached for my ax. “On my command.”

***

Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Waiting D.43: Ahmir

     The ride through Willowbrook was pleasant, despite Officer Reginald constantly whining about The Foxes being present in the city. We even ran into them, a rat faced man who had asked about their route. Granted the man was arrested on the spot by the Guard we had, he seemed far more concerned with some friend he had out in the forest. A man named Yvet, I ordered the man released. 

     “I do not wish to see what happens with your petty crime rates. Release him, and see to it we do not have to witness this again, Officer.” I had told him with a bored look. 

     While he also whined, there was some kind of look in his eyes. Something like begrudging acceptance, and respect. While I didn’t understand the respect, he wouldn’t deny my group anything we wanted, so long as it wasn’t a real risk. The rat faced man came up to the window and spoke to me.

     “Please, do not take the main road. It isn’t safe right now, please detour around Skjalich up to the mountain's edge and around the Outer Fields. Please you cannot go into the forest right now.” He was frantic, nearly pulling me out of the wagon. He didn’t even look phased when the Guard had their weapons pointed at him, the Officer holding his revolver to his head demanding he unhand me. 

     “Why is the forest unsafe right now?” I asked him. Keeping my voice level and calm, trying to get him to calm down enough to explain more.

     He took a deep breath, though his hands still shook. “Yvet told us that the Chief is angry, unpredictable right now. The roads shouldn’t be traveled right now, he even told us to stop our shipments to that smith out there.”

     “We’ll take that into account, Sir. Thank you for the warning.” I gave him a gracious smile, I told the Guard to lead him off, but to not hurt him. I don’t know if they followed my request, but it put my Delegation at ease at the very least.

     While we stayed at the hotel near the dockside, a lavish place. Thickly draped curtains over stained glass windows. Roaring hearths to beat back the winter's chill bite. Soft seats and couches lining every wall, with carved oak chairs and tables. We had the Mayor of Willowbrook entertain us personally, a strange man though clearly well-educated and clever.

     We spoke of various politics of the area, the issues with the Casques hunting down criminals all the way to their city’s walls. Where they would be halted and told they were not permitted to enter. Willowbrook apparently policed itself under some treaty with Glaion made centuries ago. I found the eccentricity fascinating. The Caliphate had a mono-authoritarian system, our military did all this for us. To see such a fractured law in Galus was news to me. 

     He also spoke of his pet project by dredging out the delta and the marsh. He was convinced some Archon Stone was buried in the muck of the swamp; he had spent decades hunting for it. Though his efforts were fruitless as of yet, his project had built up a massive port side to rival even Port De Renard. Quickly it became a main staple for those merchants traveling from Glaion to Fort De Namoux. The city had been steadily growing ever since he had carved a harbor from the twisted fingers of the mire. 

     I enjoyed listening to him and his entourage, so vivid he was with his enthusiasm. The beds were warm, soft, comfortable enough that the Delegation lamented the fact that we needed to be on our way.  While we boarded the wagon once more as its steam hissed, shrouding us in a mournful cloak, I pulled Officer Reginald over. 

     “What did that fox mean yesterday? Why is the road too dangerous?” I asked softly enough that the others inside couldn’t hear. 

     “The same reason we spoke about in the Renard. Those Goblins have been undergoing a bit of a leadership change apparently. We do not know the full details, very little intel to go off of. Only that there is a much more amenable faction to Humanity, and one that is not.” Reginald said, saluting me, brushing his mustache with frost-coated gloves. 

     “Who is this man, Yvet?” My raised brow, asking far more than my words.

     “We are uncertain. Mixed reports from the local watch about that in particular. They know the name, but have never seen him. Apparently a member of the Foxes, though, is seemingly a secular agent to them. The only real information we have on that name is the name itself, and that he lives in the forest.” 

     “Do you think the road is truly this dangerous?” I asked, for once fear creeping into my heart. It was one thing to have a briefing from this country’s military, it was another to have the denizens here tell me the same information. 

     “No, my guard will keep you safe, by tonight you will be safe within Glaion’s walls.” Reginald said with a certainty that put my mind at ease. Though I didn’t see him whisper to his subordinate to pay more attention to the trees, that they liked to drop down from the canopy onto targets.

     The path through the forest was mostly sheltered from the easterly winds, though the heavy snowfall made visibility awful. The road was well maintained by the City over the centuries, every last bump and rut dealt with, making the wheels of the wagon glide effortlessly through the powder snow. Though the warm light inside the wagon did nothing to soothe the sheer amount of silence in the air. 

     Not a twig snapping, nor the creek of tree that I was expecting. Not even the warbling of snow birds through the canopy, I was looking forward to hearing their strange songs drift through the eaves of the white capped canopy. Reaching for the hatch at the top of the wagon I poked my head through the top to chit chat with the gunner mounted at the head of the vehicle.

     The heavy burst of wind that whipped across my face was more welcoming than the still bated breath of the Delegation in the main compartment. Even with the heavy breeze, I couldn’t help but notice how quiet it was. A stillness I was used to in the middle of the desert heat, not the heart of an ancient forest. 

     “Is it always like this?” I asked the young man, his heavy leather gloves gripped tightly around the handle of the revolving turret. His eyes darted constantly from branch to branch, trying to look around trunks of trees. 

     “No” He said briskly, the thick goggles he wore did nothing to hide his nervousness. “Usually this time of year, even during the heaviest snowfalls, the Snow Jays are active.” As if on cue, he pointed out a soft chirp and warble, “We usually hear manifold that amount of song through the trees this time of the Season.” 

     “I see” I spoke with him about his home, I tried to calm him down. I could see the tension in his shoulder as he watched the sides of the road diligently. Though none could blame him for having missed anything, this damned blizzard from the stalled out hurricane sitting over the Bay of Swallows wasn’t helping anything. 

     He seemed to calm the longer we spoke, he asked me about my homeland. He hadn’t been old enough to remember the War with the Caliphate, nor the revolution that propped up the current regime. I regaled him with stories of General Lafayette and Captain Arash. He laughed at the story about the two getting so drunk together that they had set an inn ablaze by Arash vomiting onto a candle. A slight fabrication, he had actually knocked it over, rather than what I told him. 

     He asked about the strange clothes we wore, how they seemed far too thin for this weather. I smiled at him and told him that the silks and heavy cloaks were remarkably effective in the wind. We wore them in the desert as well, they did a phenomenal job keeping the sand away. He cocked his head as we heard a much louder whistle this time. 

     Though the wagon didn’t slow, the scouts sounded no alarm. “Huh, I haven’t heard that call in a long time. I spent much time in the Outerfields listening to old Patriarchs.” 

     “What do you mean Patriarchs?” I asked out of idle curiosity. 

     “Oh, that's what we call the calls of the oldest males of the Snow Jays. They have an odd command to them, the rest of the flock usually goes quiet for a moment before resuming.” 

     “Halt!” Officer Reginald barked. 

     There was a downed tree in the middle of the road. Odd, as we heard nothing, then again the snow was heavy. Dampened sound like a thick wall. “Scouts, do you see anything, Vanguard form up! Gunner, at will!” 

     The young man released a safety mechanism with a loud snap, cocking back the action to the belt bristling with ammunition. “What is happening?” I asked him. The man said nothing beyond telling me to go back into the compartment. 

     “Sentries, Visual!” Reginald barked again.

     “Null, Sir!” There was a sound, like a heavy bag being dropped from a great height. 

     “Sentry, Report!” The Vanguard pulled into a tighter group at the silence. The sound of the breeze, their only companion. The sound of gunshots sounded off, as a few of the soldiers left straggling outside of the circle sprouted bolts from their necks. 

     “At will Gentlemen!” Reginald ordered, the young man laying down a wave of suppressive fire into the trees and canopy above, the discordant maelstrom was nauseating from the noise. The shockwaves of pressure as the arc rifles tried to find some target in the heavy snow. 

     My eyes went wide as I watched the young man sprout a bolt from his neck, his gun going silent as he weakly clutched at the wooden shaft. I was stunned into inaction watching the light fade from his eyes. His blood seeped through my fingers, vainly trying to staunch the bleeding from a still heart. Pulling it free, it didn’t even notice most of the other guns had gone silent. Dimly aware that Officer Reginald looked back up at me from lifeless eyes, hand outstretched in a plea to flee. 

     I felt a sharp pain in my side, not much else registered as I tried to comprehend that the majority of our elite guard had fallen in the matter of moments. Looking down, there was a hole in my chest. Quickly soaking my shirt in warm blood, it didn’t even dawn on me that I had just been shot. 

I felt cold, everything moved in slow motion. Eyes began appearing at the edges of the trees, in the canopy. The last thing I remember seeing was a long eared green skinned man landing hard on the top of the turret. He hefted a long axe twice his height, his long ears hadn’t even caught up with him as he swung. 

It was all black. My body felt sore, like I had just lost a fight and I was on the ass end of an ass beating. Groaning, I sat up, rubbing my face. Feeling my age like an old nail being used for one final project. I was on warm desert sands, opening my eyes. 

There was a thunderstorm in the distance, massive chains of lightning arcing across the skies. Getting to my feet, I felt compelled to walk toward the monolithic structures sticking out of the endless seas of sand. Somewhere in the back of my mind I recognized them. 

     The Lighting rods, the legs of Kin as the Dwarves called them. Then again the majesty of it all was lost on me as my eyes focused on a single figure. Silhouetted in perfect contrast, standing with a pride he had no right to maintain. A golden warrior that I knew his name without him speaking it. 

     Small horns curling around his head, a radiant spear held at his side. His bulk left an impression of oneself feeling small, no matter how strong one was in life. I knew his name, I knew his face before he turned to me, a sad look on his countenance. One that understood in an infuriating way, one that understood when a perfect plan had gone wrong when no one was at fault. 

     “No no no, Great Father. No NO NO NO!” I screamed at him. Though he remained impassive, still just his saddened look. 

“NO BHAL I CANNOT DIE HERE!” I sank to my knees, my eyes growing wet. “Terrible things are about to happen with me gone. I… my wife. My son. My people cannot… we won’t survive against Galus. I…”

     His voice was the command, a facet of reality. “I know, my Son. In the endless ambition to progress ourselves forward, is sometimes not enough. Please try and remember that your wife and child will remember you as a hero. You’re people will call you a martyr for your efforts, you have never once disappointed me.” 

     I could look at him, I only saw the blood on my hands. I only saw the countless things left undone, I only felt empty now. “I can’t die here. My story isn’t done.”

     The Great Warrior knelt down to me, though his imposing stature still made him seem like he towered over me. Touching his fingertip to my chest he pulled a small spark. “And here lies the truth of it all, this small fire in your soul, turned a nation ablaze with a vision for a brighter future. You had built a country proud to be itself, and I could not ask for a better ambition in my name.”

     As he took that small spark from my chest, I only half heard his words as I faded from existence. My vision grew dark as he sneered darkly at me, my own soul held on the tip of a single finger.

***

Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Waiting D.43: Goblins

Yorm: 

     The village was quiet, unseasonably warm, the air heavy with the scent of spring. I barked an order to the Raiders to fan out, check the surrounding area for any inclination of an attack and to sound back if they saw anything. I shouldered my axe off my back, slinging the sack full of fine silks and bobbles. Full to bursting like a macabre reminder of the gluttonous ill intent it came from. 

     I walked slowly, the whelp behind me, keeping pace with me walking backward to guard my rear. There was no one on the sandy beach, now clear of snow. Despite the heavy snow, it melted and rained long before it graced the earth with its touch. Several of the Raiders poked their heads in the caverns as we swept the area. 

     “Anything? Blood? Signs of a struggle?” I barked out, my knuckles white on the haft of the weapon. Something was wrong, the air was wrong, something happened. 

     “Nothing Chief! No blood, no nothing. It’s too quiet.” One of the Veteran Raiders said, his own nervousness showing through. 

     “Agreed. Regroup at the main cavern! If there was an assault on the village, we can fortify our stronghold!” I quickened my pace, the nearly half-mile walk from the edges of the village to the core felt like it may as well have been ten. The wagon we fashioned together to bring the loot home, slowed us only slightly. 

     The raiders that had sprinted ahead fell short and came to a standstill as they rounded the bluff that jutted out from the bluff faces. Thick with summer moss, vibrant green, and moist in the dead of winter. I prepared myself to see some mage from the city having shown up to the village to cast that vile magic of theirs. 

     I wasn’t prepared to see the sea of wildflowers spidering out from the cave mouth. The heavy curtains we used to block the wind billowed out with an unearthly silence, the heavy scent of flowers and budding trees hung thick in the air. 

     Despite the life gracing a lifeless season, it felt… I saw it on my raiders faces that had already peeked into the cavern. The shock, the sadness, their faces having gone pale with realization. I pushed aside the curtains and walked in, axe raised. I wasn’t ready. I could never have been ready.

     The cave filled with life, fluttering insects, moss that hung like lavish drapes from the walls and ceiling. The thick grass that had grown on the usually bare sand floor of the cavern, took me off guard. The warm summer air, thick and humid, a stark and haunting contrast to the cold world just on the outside. I puzzled for a moment at this perversion of nature, only coming to an understanding once I moved and looked again.

     What I saw was my entire Clan huddled around Ilgor and a figure laying down, hands clasped over her chest. Walking slowly toward them, I knew what had happened without needing to be told. The Family parted for me to draw near, the old woman finally looked like she had a peaceful night sleep. 

     Ilgor still had power pouring from her hands planted firmly on Mother’s chest, eyes bloodshot and raining tears down onto Kari’s face. The fast flowing weave of prayers and magic pulsing with her own broken heart, each beat breathing new life into the cavern around us. My heart withered at seeing Ilgor in this state, an ache in my chest I hadn’t felt since she was a little girl distraught. 

     She didn’t notice anything around her, eyes fixed solely on Kari’s smiling face. Her eyes closed, chest unmoving, still of heart. Her magic could not bring the dead back, her magic left to go through the vessel meant to heal, to pass through fruitlessly into the world around her. She didn’t flinch when I knelt next to her, and placed my hands over hers, clasping them together. 

     Though I was furious with her, still angry, still hurt at her own actions toward me, I still cared for her. I had helped raise her after her parents had died under my watch, we all did. I couldn’t hold onto my fury looking at her suffering. “For those we leave behind, for those that survive and wander through the darkness, we remember. Grant us yet another day, oh Great Father.” I steeled my will to not let my voice crack. I would miss Kari, but not like the children would. 

     “It’s alright Illy, she is at peace. You did everything you could, you did nothing wrong.” Speaking softly as the power slowly died in her hands, the hot tears bled through her clenched eyes like a hot iron through closed fists. Her shoulder began to shake, wrapping her arms around herself. I shooed away Yvet who had appeared from the crowd, with a glare that withered him like a leaf in flame. 

     She didn’t need him right now, she wouldn’t want it. There wasn’t a dry eye in the cavern, from my periphery I saw a few of the older members of the Family begin to move around as they brought the candles and other essentials to begin her burial. I shooed them away as well, giving Illy the space she needed as soul-wracking sob rose and broke, rose and broke. 

     I was surprised when she threw her arms out to me and wrapped herself around my neck. “Da… I don’t…”

     “Hush, child. It’s alright. It’s alright.” I told her, wrapping my own arms around her. How could I be angry with her? How could I be cold to her now? Maybe I had overreacted, maybe she did have some good points. She was young, the fire in the blood of youth was an ill-tempered thing after all. 

     She still wore that thin night dress, barely hiding much of anything after days of continuous use. She had never left Kari’s side, even at the end, she still tried to save her. Such a loyal daughter to have, such a powerful soul to call our new Mother. Her voice really was potent as she tried to calm herself down, wracks of compulsion tilting the ears of everyone in the cavern. 

     I held the girl I had known since she was a babe like she was my own child, as the dawning realization that an old friend of mine was gone. Bitter tears seeping from my own eyes as I thought back to all the conversations I had with Kari, a cold and broken prayer. The stark reality that she would be missed, and sorely so for those who needed her most. When the fire of life is passed from one to another, there is no reconciliation needed to be said, a reality that it is what is. As above and so below, must us mortals endure our own mortal coil. 

     I pulled one of those bizarre silks from the bag I had dropped unceremoniously at my feet, and wrapped it around Illy. It looked wonderful on her, warming from the chill breeze that had begun to blow back into the caves.

     When she had opened her eyes to see what I had wrapped around her, she smiled at first. The first hint of winter wind breezed through the curtains and a strange look dawned on her face. Like watching an ice laden branch creak in the wind, the fractures on her countenance metamorphosed into horror and dismay. I vaguely remembered part of what she had told me not so long ago. “They dress in strange patterns, bright colors. They will likely be traveling lavishly, do not touch them.”

     The whelp, who I had finally begun to remember that his name was Tyrk, “I think this is the group Illy…” swam through my memory like a drunken stupor.

     Her next words were filled with a power I had no way of describing. An absolute, a fact of being, like her words were etched into the bark of the Tree itself. “What have you done, Yorm?”

     She rose slowly, taking her arms away from me, a connection broken. A bridge to fall with the knowledge that it would never be repaired, a path toward the horizon inexorably cut off. I felt in my heart something change, a trust I never realized I had, gone from her. Several of the others tried to reach for her, Cori, Ghet, Knoll, and Yvet being among them. I didn’t see the look on her face as she spun a bright arc of lighting dancing across her fingers that met my face with all the power of a thunderstorm. 

     My vision's edges went black as that slap across the face sent me flying outside the cavern. I stopped counting how many times I rolled after seven, the air was far colder. Ice already growing across my skin, stiffly sitting back up I heard bare feet walk toward me on the sand. She was… she was… something out of our holy books. Her hands danced with the fury of the skies, the wind roaring around her like a horrifying cloak, Her eyes… glowed. 

     Her face looked hurt, angry, the village had emptied out of the cavern to watch. Though from my vantage point on the ground, I could see Ilgor was pushing back the three others who were trying to run toward her. Yvet on the ground clutching to the earth, wind threatening to tear him away from the earth, Cori in much the same state. Ghet was pinned against the cliff face, his long braid whipping around wildly. Everyone else had the good sense to not interfere.

“I told you.” Her voice was music personified, back lit by the overlapping voices demanding my attention to her. “I tried to warn you. I told you. Do. Not. Touch. Them.” Each of her final words punctuated by bolts of lightning in the now raging frozen thunderstorm. 

She stood over me, no. Towering like a mouse viewing an ancient oak, vast and endless. “Why wouldn’t you listen to me?” Her voice broke with a quiet sob. “Do you not know what you have done?” With that, she sank to her knees, eyes never having broken contact with mine. The storm died almost instantly, only now noticing the heavy bags under her eyes. 

     Yvet was gasping for air on the ground, but was the first to reach Illy, pulling her into a tight embrace. Hob’s raiders and Cori had encircled us, unsure of what they should be doing. My crew was second to appear at our side, though I didn’t like how they had intermingled into Hob’s crew. 

     She cried hard into Yvet’s shoulder, frame shaking like a leaf in a storm. “I don’t, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you before. I know we aren’t on the best terms, but I…” I stammered out.

     “Yorm. That Delegation, I’m assuming you left no survivors, was here to try and stop a war between The City and Caleb’s homeland. And you killed them, do you not realize what is going to happen to us when the City finds out that the goblins did it? Yorm, they are going to slaughter us.” Though she spoke into Yvet’s arms, her voice was more than audible. More than clear, more than real. “Our people's blood is on your hands.”

     I felt my face grow pale, my blood turn to ice as I remembered back to that failed raid of Ghet’s. The reason so many of the children in the Family had no parents. Those were soldiers, not guards. “We need to…” I tried. 

     “Tyrk, please come here.” She said, pulling herself away from Yvet. The young whelp came over without a moment's hesitation, he didn’t even look at me before doing so. 

     “Yes, Mother. Uhh, Ilgor.” He corrected himself as she flinched at the title. 

     “Please grab all the bodies in the village and begin heading over to Caleb’s wagon. Cori, could you please direct the Family on the construction of the walls. We need all the resources we have been stockpiling for the last few months. All of it.” She spoke with certainty, like there had been a plan all along. Only then did I realize the full breadth of what Knoll had tried to tell me. 

     She turned to Ghet, continuing. “We are going to need to prioritize defense. We don’t have enough pylons to complete a full wall in such a short time. I doubt we will have more than a few days before the City finds out the Delegation is gone, then only a half day before they figure out it was us. I think we should go with plan B in this case.” Ghet merely nodded, pulling out a notebook and flipping through pages before finding the one he wanted. He showed it to her, and Cori, leaving me out of it. “Perfect, that should leave our main cavern safe enough, while we flee if need be.”

     “What… What can I do?” The others looked over to me, I could feel the shifting tides as sure as the next moonrise. The subtle shift in power in all but name, it came crumbling down around me. Suddenly, like a drunk remembering the point of his story, it dawned on me in a single epiphany I couldn’t put words to. 

     I thought back to how I had said she wasn’t a good leader, I had said she knew nothing of planning for the future. I remembered complaining to Knoll and Cori about her. I remembered Kari’s admonishment at me for speaking down to her while I carried her under the stars. She had planned for all of it, she had shifted the loyalty of the clan from me and Kari, to her. She had placed a new hope in their hearts that I had burned away so long ago. 

     I suppose I would simply have to wait and see if she would do the inevitable. “I need you to assist with the wall. Please talk with Ghet to see the plan. Cori, bring the family to go get… well everything from Caleb.” She planted a soft kiss on Yvet's cheek, before telling everyone “I am sorry, but I need a moment. To be frankly honest I want to cry on my own for a while…”

     There was no illusion of mystery, the death of Kari would have a profound impact on her from here to come. She walked off without preamble, but not before Yvet wrapped his heavy woolen cloak around her.

***

Ilgor:

     He tried to walk with me, hand in mine, I sent him away. Telling him I wanted to be alone, I wanted to think, and frankly to cry away from the eyes of the Family. I knew they would miss her, I already saw the hurt in Hob’s, Isry’s, Yvet’s eyes. I already saw it in all the orphans just like me, I saw Ghet turn away when… 

     Though my voice was barely audible, I didn’t feel like controlling it. I didn’t have the will to stop it, I had spent too much time with the Sorcerer. “Hob, Ghet, Cori, please come here, please.”

     I had stopped, hugging the thick cloak around me, I was too tired to look at them. “Yes, Illy? What can we do to help?” She put something in my hand, a long shaft of wood. It took me a long moment to realize she had given me Kari’s Staff, drops of water had begun appearing on the years worn smooth wood. Slowly, one after the other, there was no registration to it. No comprehension. 

     Ghet had gripped my shoulder with his thin strong hands, he didn’t say anything as he wrapped my fingers around the staff firmer. The intertwining roots that made up its head glow softly, I knew it was a conduit for her, somewhere in the back of my mind I realized I was far too much for the staff itself. I had far more power than Kari ever had, even at her height. The memories she had told me raced through my mind, all the stories she had told me about the amazing things she did. 

     “I am going to miss Ma as much as you, Illy.” Hob’s voice snapped my attention to him, his eyes were red, bloodshot and angry again. The slight quivering of his lip gave him away though, “But I need you to tell us what to do. We need you to lead us, we need you, Illy.” 

     Ghet chimed in, his voice sounding as if he had just aged another ten years, “He’s right, that stunt you did with the Chief, just made up everyone’s minds. There is no question anymore, I don’t know how you want to do this but…”

     “I need you three to head into the City and listen. Bring me back any information that might mean the City will launch an attack. Cori, stake out the Barracks. Hob, I want you in the Palace grounds listening to the military movements. Ghet, you will be slumming the inns and taverns until you start to hear rumors. I don’t care how flimsy the rumors are, you bring them back to me.” I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but I knew the lack of compassion in my voice was obvious. I didn’t care right now, I wanted to be alone, not in command. 

     They were hesitant, lingering around me. So I broke the awkwardness by walking forward, the clack of My Mother’s staff on the cold earth. Hob had reached for me, Ghet had tried to speak. “I am sorry, but I have given you orders. Please, go. Hob, can you stay with me for a moment?”

     Hob’s ears flipped wildly as he looked to and from Ghet and Cori, back to me. Ghet punched him in the shoulder as I walked away, Cori whispered something I heard, but didn’t remember. I knew I had walked a few hundred paces off before Hob appeared by my side. The winter-graced branches intertwining over our heads. Despite my effort to calm my magic, it wasn’t working, snow dripped in cold melt water over us, like our own personal rain. 

     He didn’t say anything, I had known him most of my life, he was a bully, he was a jackass, he was mean. But, he grabbed my hand while we walked, still he was silent. I suppose we didn’t need much to say, it was what we did. The tap of the staff was our only symphony to listen to, the birds were silent. A world gone quiet, a song not sung. 

     “I’m sorry.” Voice hoarse and painful in my own throat.

     “For what?” He said, I only now noticed how much taller he was than me. 

     “I’m sorry about our fight, I’m sorry about your eye.” Looking over at him, half his face spiderwebbed in scars and uneven damage. He didn’t take his eyes off the road. 

     “You know, I was angry at you. I hated you for what you had done to me.” I looked away from him, shame coloring my cold face. “But, you had, have, a point. If not the City, I am too eager to join my parents. Ma had a long conversation with me before you came to visit me too. I can’t help but to think back to it.”

     He took a long sigh, gripping my hand so tight that it hurt, “I am too angry. I know, I want to get better. I want the same level of cool headedness you have, Illy. But, wow. I can’t see how you do it sometimes. That… With the Chief, I never seen such a thing. Illy, just how strong are you?” He said, turning to me finally, His face a duality of the cruelty I showed it, and what he was supposed to be. 

     I was quiet, I too didn’t say anything. I waited as much as he did. “I can’t say I forgive you, you put a permanent reminder on my face of the folly of my fury. No, I can’t forgive you, but I see the wisdom in your words. Before you say it, yes. I know why you did it, I know the reasons and I agree with them. But, I still refuse you healing my scars the same way I refused Ma’s” He stated.

     He let go of my hand and began walking back toward the village. “So that was it? He won’t forgive me, but he doesn’t hate me? What do I need to do to make it up to him, Ma?” My own voice in my head being my only accompaniment. Though, I thought it was my own thought, something else popped into mind as I walked on into the forest. 

     “Wounds that heal poorly take more time. Sweet Child Touched by Shadow, give him time, as well as yourself.” Pausing just long enough to see that Corpse Woman slinking behind the trees out of sight. 

     “Why do you always hide when I’m actually awake!” I yelled at her, but received nothing in reply. Though I did feel a warming in my chest I didn’t understand, was it comfort, was it pride? I couldn’t place it. 

     But, that only brought up only memories I didn’t want to think about right now, too many of Kari’s smiling with pride at me. “We really don’t know what we have until we lose it, do we? I don’t know what has its teeth in me, but I want to bite back!” The shockwave that forced a calm pocket of air around me in the falling snow from my scream did nothing to calm me down. The warm trails of tears ran down my face again, the image of Kari swimming through my mind. Skin like ice, shivering to the bone.

     I felt like I needed a drink, half thinking about walking back to the tavern to grab a bottle. The thought of having to see the Family again, the idea of seeing Kari lying there, my eyes swam with renewed vigor. Shaking my head, the forest passed by me, no destination in mind. The world was silent, cold, the snow that clung to my thin dress didn't even phase me. I didn’t feel the cold any longer, it didn’t seem to matter.

     I didn’t even realize I had walked nearly all the way to Caleb’s home, the warm light from the house was like a guiding star to the lost. I decided that I would visit the forge, he wouldn’t ask questions, he would be in a companionable silence. Though it was late by the time I trudged through the snow, the path that we kept clear was slowly filling in with snow. My skin felt warm again, though I never noticed the tinge of blue on my fingertips.

     The soft knock on the door was quickly met with my Human friend's smiling face immediately turning to worry. He didn’t hesitate, scooping me up and bringing me inside. The warm room, the roaring fire in the hearth quickly melted the snow away from me, the fact that my skin was cold was the only sensation I felt. He rummaged through an old chest he had, pulling a heavy poncho out of it, not unlike the one I had in the village. 

     “Mother, can you understand me?” He said, kneeling down in front of me. “Illy, you need to change out of that. You won’t warm up fast enough with that thing on, too much snow, too wet. You are far too cold.” 

     I didn’t really care, not really registering that I was probably far too cold to do much. I shook my head slowly, the worry on his face didn’t subside. “Forgive me then, Mother.” He said as he pulled the wet dress off me, drying my hair and skin before wrapping me in a poncho. Throwing a few more pieces of wood onto the fire. He handed me a glass of some amber liquid. 

     “Drink, Illy.” He said, concern still on his face. “Your skin is a little warmer now, a little less pale. What were you thinking wandering around in this blizzard, in that thing?”

     I was more aware of the surroundings now, a drink from the glass told me it was strong whiskey. Raising an eyebrow at him, he shrugged and said simply. “It makes you warmer.”

     We sat in silence as Caleb ran through his prayers for the evening. Opening a book, he kept himself busy waiting for a response from me. He made no comment as he watched the tears begin falling down my face again, didn’t make me feel odd for doing so. When my glass was empty, he refilled it for me, still just waiting.

     Eventually, as his lantern in the corner needed to be refueled, I spoke up while he was in the middle of doing so. “She’s gone.” Was all I could choke out. 

     His back stiffened, head hung low. He knew full well who “she” was, he had even become friends with Kari when she came along with us to help with the forge. He knew her place in the clan, he knew my relationship with her. He knew she was my Mother growing up, he didn’t need to be told any of it. 

     He was much more composed than me, he sat next to me by the fire and wrapped his arm around my small frame. He didn’t comment beyond raising a glass in remembrance. With the patience of a saint, he listened while I waxed poetic about her. The life I had with her, how I would miss her. 

     At some point, he had gotten up to sit in his chair. Eventually, I realized I was just talking to myself as I finally realized he had fallen asleep in his chair. The fire had burned low, I put a few more logs in the fire, watching as the flames licked up their sides. I pulled the poncho off me, not the least bit ashamed as I crawled into his bed. Though I did prop his head up with a pillow, the old man would have a sore neck in the morning otherwise. 

     Throwing a blanket on him, he wrapped it around himself in his sleep. I wondered idly how he would feel about me sleeping in his bed, naked. I didn’t think he’d care too much, my dress had not dried out yet, and that poncho was itchy. Laying down I noticed the words he carved into the window frame holding the stained glass portrait of his wife. “We beat the blessed earth with our heartbeats.”

     “Odd, I figured you’d be at least a little more interesting without clothes on, I suppose not though.” That familiar voice pierced through the warm glow of the room. Seemingly coming from all the shadows all at once. 

     With a long-suffering sigh, I crossed my arms over my chest “You are going to wake Caleb up, Madman.”

     “Oh you’ll find he will sleep soundly.” He purred his words as he stepped from the shadows themselves. He wasn’t hiding, rubbing my eyes, my mind was playing tricks on me, they had to be. No, he stepped from those shadows, the literal shadows. Eyes darting around, I saw that the fire was moving far slower than it should have. 

     He grinned at me, seeming much larger than I remembered him. That long cloak he wore featured a set of scales on them, he held a pocket watch in his hand. In his other hand was Kari’s staff. “I see you lost something in the snow, something important to you.” He said as he unceremoniously tossed it at me. 

     Fumbling it, but I held it tightly in both hands. “How are you not going to wake Caleb up?” I asked, annoyed that he wouldn’t answer the question the first time. 

     He frowned down at me, his mask still covering the top half of his face. “For one, that isn’t his name, and you know it. Second, I will not allow Javad to wake until I say so.” He pulled on a set of thick leather gloves etched in countless runes and sigils. 

     “What do you want, Sorcerer?” I asked with a heavy sigh again, I was growing tired of his toying with me already. 

     He reached up and took his mask off, I wasn’t expecting that. Nor was I expecting his face, an odd thing that I didn’t scream. Many eyes stared down at me, not just the two I was accustomed to. I stopped counting after twenty, each one a different color, size and shape. The shadows moved around him as he spoke, seemingly in reaction to his voice. 

     “How fortunate it is that I happened to be here. My my my, how you have taught your village well the lessons I seem to remember telling you to share with no one until a great calamity happened.” My skin reacted to his words, goosebumps covering every inch of me. He didn’t comment, but he noticed it. “Now, I actually did want you to teach them, to bring balance that I so eagerly seek. I just wanted to see if you had the courage to do so. Congratulations Ilgor of the Skullbrood Clan! You have passed every single trial I have thrown in your way!” While he said it in a mocking jovial way, there was a fury in his voice. 

     The world seemingly warping around him, the corners of my eyes seeing the odd angles it was all taking. Stealing myself, I was unsure of what the Sorcerer wanted now, he had revealed that he knew everything all along, so why let me do it? “What do you want, I won’t ask again.” 

     “My my my, she’s an impetuous child of the gods! Fitting seeing who her Mother is!” It wasn’t his voice, it was another from the shadows. With a wave of his hands the other voice silenced. 

     “What was that? What kind of entrapment are you trying to do here?” I asked, sweat starting to bead on my brow, somehow his presence seemed far more oppressive. 

     “Why, to seek my own eventual death. You, Ilgor, are going to become the single greatest agent of change this world has ever known, will ever know should my plans go right. You know not the gravity of the people around you, you are ignorant of the things happening here. I wish to see balance brought to this world, and I will do so by any means necessary. There is far too much Shadows for the amount of light left here.” He knelt down to me, holding out that blue stone Yvet had given to me. He was far too careful with it, refusing to touch it with anything but the thickest part of the gloves.

     “What does she call you?” He asked as the branches of Kari’s Staff opened to accept the stone, promptly curling around it like a clenched hand. 

     “Who calls me what?” Confused, I couldn’t take my eyes off the fact that every eye on his head moved independently from each other. 

     “I imagine she calls you a Cursed One, or Sweet Child. She was fond of calling our changelings, Children Touched by Shadow.” He said as he pulled three more stones out of thin air, each more beautiful than the last. Like they were far realer than the reality around us. 

     “How do you know about her?” Eyes growing wide as the branches opened yet again. 

     “I didn’t, but thank you for confirming that The Great Mother is still alive in a sense. I’m sure my siblings will be furious with my actions here, enabling her return so easily. But, much like our voices trapped in that jar so far away, I too wish to see what would have been.” He was oddly solemn. 

     “I don’t know what you are talking about. Who is The Great Mother? What Jar?” I was growing more and more confused with each word he spoke. 

     “Ah, so she hasn’t grown strong enough to speak much to you. That Corpse is struggling to even speak to you in your dreams then? Has she appeared while you are awake yet? Has she returned to looking like you yet? You bear an uncanny resemblance to her, then again you all do.” He spoke while each of the stones was wrapped in the staff’s embrace. 

     His main eyes looked directly into mine. Speaking quickly, he added. “While you should be able to figure it out, I’ll tell you this. One name I am known as is Mumit. Or The Father of Scales. Or The Great Saint. If you care to know, you will, but I say it anyway. Realize the gravity of these words, these stones will deepen a connection between you and the ghost that hasn’t been felt in eons. I look forward to seeing how powerful you will become, grant me what I want.” 

     He rose with his words, stepping back into the shadows. A viscous smile on his warped face, the gloves he wore fell to the floor. His corporeal form having left the room, the oppressive presence evaporated. That implied threat, gone. 

     “Deepen my connection, yet he says the lessons will only be useful after a great calamity? More or less, then again we are looking down the barrel of a loaded gun. Was this your plan all along? Did you plan this all out? Are you the one who drove Yorm mad? Are you the reason our home will drink our blood?” I said to empty air, a fresh stream of tears running down my cheeks as Caleb snored softly next to me. 

     Pulling my knees up to my chest, the balance of Kari’s staff felt wrong now. I kept trying to distract myself from thinking about Mother now, keeping my mind busy with strategies we could use to survive the City’s wrath. I just couldn’t…