The hustle and bustle of the camp as it readied itself for war was nothing to Thaer. As a warrior fresh from his Binding Ritual, he spent the next few days in ritual cleansing. There was a waterfall a few longstrides from the camp, and in the midst of the Season of Water, much less the frozen north, it should have been a curtain of ice.

However, there was a cave behind the falls and inside was a small pool of nearly boiling water. Thaer left his clothes on an outcropping and submerged himself in the scaldingly hot water. As soon as he was mostly submerged, he closed his eyes and focused on his core.

Slowly, the heat of the pool faded away and he was left in darkness until, what must have been hours later, he saw in his mind’s eye the transparent figure of a bicorn running around an astral grassland.

The bicorn charged at Thaer as soon as he imaged himself on the plain but a mere flicker of Intent and the creature skidded to a halt, frozen in mid-stride. Thaer lifted a hand and rested on the giant horn, a cruel smirk on his face. A moment later, the bicorn spirit melted into the young man’s form.

Back in his body, Thaer’s skin darkened from a light grey to a deeper, more metallic shade. Then it slowly reddened as it took in the heat. He stayed there, submerged all the way to his chin until he could no longer take the heat. Feeling a bit dizzy, he scrambled out of the pool, water sluicing off his muscular body and he reached for a waterskin next to his clothes. He gulped down the contents of the entire bag before he was satisfied. Then, he shook himself like a wolf rising from the stream, droplets of water flew from his skin and hair, until he was relatively dry. Afterwards, he got dressed and left the cave.

He had just left the cave and was making his way around the treacherously slippery path back down when a bright flash of colours drew his eye. He craned his neck to look, to the east where the planar barrier was and saw a cascade of red, green, and yellow hues rising from the ground to the heavens.

“Progenitors,” Thaer breathed. One was coming!

He ran from the waterfalls to the camp. It was directly away from the barrier and he briefly toyed with the idea of heading straight to the Tidelands but he banished it the next moment. A proper welcome must be made and he was nowhere near important enough to do it alone.

When he arrived at T’Pyun, there was already a large gathering of warriors and shamanesses wearing flower headdresses. He saw his father, Chief Surt, with a large, grey-skinned woman with blonde hair up to her bottom: the Elder Shaman. Her face was covered in strange whorled paint that made it impossible to distinguish what her face really looked like. She had a bright red robe that was open to the waist, warpaint covering her bare chest. She glanced at Thaer dismissively before turning back to Surt.

“Come, we must be there before the Progenitor arrives.”

Surt waved his hand above his head and a procession started. He glanced at Thaer as he passed, jerking his head to the end of the line, which Thaer took as a command to follow. With an excited nod, Thaer hurried to the back where the other unblooded were. They marched down the cold white fields, tramping down the snow until they arrived close to the Tideland’s border.

The cascade was wide, several longstrides wide, but the way the hues flowed focused on a spot not too far from where they were. The procession, about a hundred blooded warriors and shamanesses total, created a large circle and brought out drums that they beat a sonorous rhythm on with bone sticks.

Thu-thud, thud, thud!

The others who tagged along were the unblooded men, the young women and the vassals. The last carried baskets of fruit, bread, and dried meats.

Thaer sat down cross-legged and waited. Hours later and the rhythm continued, the drummers changed shifts twice. Frida Vardottir sat beside Thaer, her heels beneath her bottom, having arrived a couple of hours ago bearing a fresh wineskin, meat jerky, and bread.

“How much longer, you think?” she whispered, her breath tickling his ear.

Thaer shrugged, pulling her pliant body next to his.

“Who knows?”

The girl struggled briefly but settled with huff after he poked her side. He tried not to yawn. The sun was already close to setting and the Progenitor still wasn’t there.

That wasn’t unusual though. Sometimes, a Progenitor would take weeks to enter the plane from the first time the barrier indicated their coming. Some say that the longer it took, the more powerful the Progenitor but honestly, who would dare test their power?

“This is the first time I’ve seen this,” Frida said. She was nice and warm.

“As with me, but father regaled me with tales of this when I was young.”

“Hmmm, still, are we to wait here until they arrive?”

“It would be unwise not to.”

He could see Frida pouting from the corner of his eye.

A moment later, the barrier flared and rippled. Thaer stiffened and stood up, craning his neck. The warriors bowed while the shamanesses continued drumming. A moment later, the hues rushed to a singular point and let out a blinding flare. The next moment, everything was still. A silhouette came out, looked around, spotted the gathering of Iron Skin Tribesmen and strode towards them.

Thaer bowed his head, though not so much that he couldn’t see the Progenitor arrive. A light dusting of Chaos mist hovered around the silhouette but soon faded away, revealing…a girl?

Thaer felt his jaw grow slack. He had never laid eyes on a Progenitor, not even the one in Nyuno Kwevha, so he was entirely unprepared to see such incarnate beauty. The Progenitor wasn’t tall, about Frida’s height, but was much more slender. Golden hair cascaded from her head, floating in the wind. Red eyes stared out and swept the gathered tribesmen, and each one stiffened as the gaze passed. Thaer felt it, too, when she looked at him for a moment. A predatory gaze.

“We welcome you, Progenitor!” they yelled at the top of their lungs, then waited.

The girl came closer and Thaer drank in her features. She was clad in tight-fitting pants, showing off every curve, and green robes that flowed behind her. The hilt of a greatsword stuck out over her shoulder--the naked blade protruded at the side.

“I am the Seeker of Delights,” she announced after a moment, her voice going through them like a wave, overwhelming in potency.

Still…Thaer couldn’t help but stare. It was improper and rude, he knew, but she was of such beauty that if the girl were anything but a Progenitor, he would love to ravish her.

“Greetings,” Surt replied, “you honour us with your presence.”

“Indeed.” The Seeker gestured. “Walk with me.”

Surt stood up from kneeling, along with everyone else. They followed some distance behind the two. The Chief towered over the girl but it was Surt who had his back bent while she stood tall.

Back at T’Pyun, the Progenitor girl headed to the biggest tent, the Council Tent, and entered, followed by Surt and the Elder Shamaness. The warchiefs soon followed and the unblooded were left cooling their heels.

Thaer, having finished his purification, headed back to his tent. Frida demurred from following him further, to his disappointment, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Later, when the Moon had risen and drowned out the Chaos Streams, Thaer was summoned to his father’s tent.

Yawning, he put on his clothes and trudged out into the snow. Upon reaching the Chief’s tent, he was let in by the guard. His eyes widened when he beheld the Progenitor seated by the cushions, rosy-cheeked, while his father lay slumped, breathing heavily, steam rising out of his bare chest.

Thaer’s eyes darted back to the Progenitor. Her hair wasn’t mussed, her clothes weren’t rumpled, and she was drinking from a wooden bowl that steamed.

“My son,” Surt gasped as he struggled to sit up. “Come. Lady Seeker, this is Thaer, who has just completed his Binding and Purification. He will lead the unblooded.”

The Seeker’s keen gaze pinned Thaer as he was about to sit. He remained in that half-frozen state until she looked away.

With a sigh, he sat cross-legged and waited for his father’s words.

“He will do, I suppose,” The Progenitor nodded casually. “But, his shouldn't be the only raid. And if you want success, you must wait until the Full Moon.”

“May I ask why, Honoured One?”

“There is a Chaos Storm brewing and while it will not break so easily, it will affect the air here. On that day, there will be a powerful blizzard. You must strike then, and you must strike at targets they do not expect.”

“That is not our tradition…”

“Do you not want to drive away the invaders? Half measures will only meet with measly success.”

They continued to discuss, with Surt demurring but eventually conceding.

“Very well. Thaer, you will lead your Fist to where the Progenitor says.”

“Yes, father.”

“Oh, I’ve forgotten.” Lady Seeker turned to Surt. “My Hunt is the only thing I wish to do here. I will aid you until after your raids, but should my quarry happen to be in this land, do not touch her.”

“Your quarry, Honoured One? How would we know? We would not want to give offence, even accidentally.”

“Ah, it should be simple. She looks like me, or rather,” The Seeker gave a toothy grin, “I look like her.”

“A Progenitor as well?”

“No, human.”

Thaer’s eyes widened in surprise. A human that looks like the Progenitor? How can such otherworldly beauty be possessed by a mortal? But more importantly… if the human that looks like the Progenitor even possesses even a tenth of her charm…

Thaer felt his loins heat up. He couldn’t even dream of touching the Seeker, but if her likeness was in a human and, even better, one of the invaders…

Thaer licked his lips and fervently hoped that the quarry would be where he was to hunt.

________

“Come on, Yuriko, the Fort Commander is here!”

Gwendith shook Yuriko’s shoulder as she sat in meditation on top of her bunk bed. It was early morning and they had hours still before they were needed at their posts.

“Shouldn’t we have breakfast first?” Ella-Mai whined.

“No! I want to talk to the Commander as soon as possible.”

Yuriko rubbed the sleep off her eyes and blinked at the other girl.

“I hardly think disturbing someone while they’re at their morning ablutions would help our case,” she said mildly.

Gwendith frowned at her but ultimately sighed and said, “Fine, after breakfast!”

“Good.”

Yuriko hopped off her bunk bed and marched to the washroom and got ready for the day.

As they sat on the breakfast table, Yuriko asked idly, “Why do you think we’re restricted to menial chores anyway?”

“Who knows?” Gwendith snorted. “I’d expect the commander to be a misogynist.”

Yuriko raised an eyebrow. “That’s a strong charge. You don’t think there’s another reason?”

“Well, we’ll find out, but if it turns out it's something as flimsy as that, well, hmph!”

“I don’t think it’s misogyny,” Ella-Mai piped up. “I’ve actually talked to some women in the fort and they say that there are female legionnaires posted in the camps.”

“So why would we be restricted then?”

“Maybe the commander wants to assign posts himself?”

Yuriko just shrugged and finished her meal. Afterwards, the three of them headed to the administrative compound. She let Gwendith bully her way into an appointment. The other girl seemed to be quite adept at throwing her weight around, and while she didn’t quite approve of how she went about it, Yuriko had to admit that it was quite…convenient.

Forcing her way through bureaucratic red tape wasn’t anywhere near what she wanted to do and admittedly, if it had been left to her, she would be cooling her heels waiting. By midmorning, they had the appointment for Commander Perry.

They trudged down the ploughed path from the administrative office to headquarters. The legionnaires guarding the door let them through after Gwendith brandished the appointment papers under his nose.

The Commander’s Office was at the top floor, some five storeys up. When they arrived there, only Ella-Mai looked winded.

The receptionist had them wait at the lounge for a bit while the Commander finished some other business.

“Hmph, the others didn’t want to come,” Gwendith growled.

The other seven girls said they were fine with the current postings and rebuffed her attempts at solidarity. Either way, Yuriko said to Gwendith that if they didn’t want to, there was no reason to force the matter.

“Cadets Sharine, Davar, and Wol, please enter,” the receptionist called out after a few minutes.

Gwendith strode to the door and yanked it open, her mouth ready to spew out heated words.

Yuriko and Ella-Mai followed inside and realised that Gwendith hadn’t said a word while her jaw hung open. It was easy to see why.

“I guess it’s not misogyny at all,” Yuriko whispered.

The commander turned to face them, a middle-aged woman with close-cropped silvery hair and sharp eyebrows. The nameplate on the desk read Commander Adeline M. Perry.