It hadn’t even taken an hour in the Stragma Forest for Tehlmar to remember all the reasons why he hated the place. First, there was the omnipresent humidity that caused every article of clothing he wore to cling uncomfortably to his body as if he’d just jumped into a pond. He had no idea how Stragmans could bear to live every single day like this, with not just his clothes but his bare skin sticking to him. Not only was it highly unpleasant, it made maintaining armor a pain and caused the food supplies to go bad far more quickly than normal.

Then there was the endless array of flora, from the massive trees that defined the forest to the overly-abundant bushes and ferns and the curtains of vines that filled the gaps between the wooden giants, which served to block his view in all directions. Years of training and fighting had drilled a constant vigilance into him, to the point that part of his mind was always on the lookout for an ambush. That wariness had saved his life and the lives of his comrades multiple times in the past, especially when they’d been fleeing through the forests of Kutrad several seasons ago, but the density of Stragma made Kutrad’s forests seem like a desert in comparison. At times he felt like an enemy could be just five paces from him and he wouldn’t be able to tell.

But what really drove Tehlmar crazy was the way that the unending plant life made speedy travel seemingly impossible. He needed to make his way south to the current Stragman capital of Hoxoni before they packed up and moved west to their next location, but the progress he was making made it feel like he wouldn’t arrive for another year at the earliest. It was times like this when he understood why the war with these people had never come to a conclusion even after so many centuries. Were the Drayhadans to somehow have just as many soldiers as the Stragmans, rather than a mere fraction of the manpower, they’d still never be able to successfully invade this place. Their armies would bog down almost immediately and they’d be endlessly harassed and picked apart by the Stragmans until they were no more. The Stragmans seemed to know how to move through this sea of trees many times quicker than he could manage. How, he didn’t know. Even after traveling with them for a good while the last time he’d been in here, he’s never been able to figure out their secret. And so, a day and a half after first crossing the tree line, Tehlmar continued to miserably struggle his way deeper and deeper into the forest, leaving a trail of hacked-apart foliage and an unending stream of profanity in his wake.

This was all Pyria’s fault. On the one hand, there were good reasons for him to be doing what he was doing. No matter how successful his sister’s efforts to manipulate the state of the government back home turned out, Drayhadal would never consent to send most of its armies marching on the Ubrans while the threat of a Stragman invasion hung over their heads. That meant that somebody had to go negotiate a truce, if only a temporary one, with the forest-dwellers, and since Pyria and the Masked Battalion were needed in Drayhadal, that left only him. To make matters worse, they couldn’t carry out the negotiations by Many, because that would involve other people. It had to stay within their circle, and that meant he had to go in person.

Still, sound reasoning aside, Tehlmar couldn’t help but feel that this was also some form of revenge on his sister’s part. She was very good at hiding her inner thoughts, but there was no way she’d forgiven him for stabbing her back then. In her mind, having to deal with the ‘savages’ was probably the worst punishment that vindictive bitch could imagine. Tehlmar was in no hurry to correct that misconception. There had been a point in his life when he’d seen the Stragmans in the same way his sister did, but decades of life outside of Drayhadal, as well as days of interaction with the Stragman people, had tempered that greatly. If anything, he preferred the more straightforward nature of Stragman culture to the duplicitous world of Drayhadan nobility. He still hated the forest with a passion, though.

The real question at hand was, would any of his effort even prove fruitful? He, a hated Drayhadan and the brother of perhaps the most hated Drayhadan of all, had a limited amount of time to convince the Stragman leaders to pull a complete about-face. The enormity of the task made it seem just about impossible. Had Tehlmar been able to conceive of any other plan, he would have taken it over this.

With a loud grumble, Tehlmar pushed himself through another patch of lush green vines blocking his way before abruptly coming to a halt just a few finger-widths in front of a gleaming spearhead pointed at his neck. Quickly glancing around, he spotted several more spears pointed his way from both his right and his left, as well as several other people up above him. Likely there were more behind him as well.

Tehlmar turned back to the man in front of him and raised his empty hands up while flashing a wide smile. “It’s about time,” he said. “Making all that noise really wears you out after a while, you know?”
* * *
Days of trekking through the forest later, Tehlmar and the squad that found him finally arrived at Stragma’s winter city, and none too soon for his liking. Long-range Stragman patrols didn’t carry around tucrenyx shackles everywhere on the off-chance they’d run across a mentally challenged Drayhadan in the middle of the wilderness, but that didn’t stop the squad that found him from trying their hardest to make do anyway. One of them had grown some surprisingly strong vines and used them to tie his arms behind him in a very uncomfortable position with a long strand sticking out like a leash. Then they’d led him along the entire trip back like some sort of glorified pet and hadn’t even untied him as he slept. At least now that they’d arrived here at the city, he’d be able to move his arms again.

The city of Hoxoni was, in Tehlmar’s opinion, about as different from the city of Pholis as was possible. While Pholis was constructed around and on gargantuan trees that rose thousands of paces into the sky, creating a city that grew upward almost as much as it grew outward, Hoxoni could be found inside a massive cave system underground. Here, outside of several caverns with high ceilings where marketplaces and other public places could be found, there often wasn’t even enough room for a building to have a second story. Instead, everybody had to build horizontally. Tehlmar couldn’t say just how far the cave system went, but if it was enough to house the entirety of the Stragman populace then it must have continued on for leagues and leagues.

The closest thing Tehlmar could find to the forest outside were the large, thick stone pillars that connected the ceiling and the floor in the large caverns, almost like trees reaching up to a canopy so thick that it blocked out all sunlight. Other than that, it was like all of the Stragman civilization had moved to an entirely different world.

The first thing he noticed was, of course, the darkness. The caves were not entirely without light; large patches of bioluminescent moss and fungi growing on almost every surface provided enough light for the inhabitants to go about their days, but just barely. The entire city had an eerie pre-dawn feel that Tehlmar found quite unappealing.

“Do those things glow all the time?” he asked the leader of the squad that had ‘captured’ him. After days of being a talkative nuisance, Tehlmar had finally managed to crack through the Stragmans’ distrust and contempt enough that they’d answer questions every so often, though sustained conversation was still rare.

“They dim slightly sometimes,” came the gruff reply.

“But never all the way off?”

“No.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying? Why not just use torches so you can extinguish them when it’s time to sleep?”

“And fill the air with smoke?” The leader rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like it could smell worse than it already does,” Tehlmar shot back with a sniff. Foul odors assaulted his nostrils with every breath. “It smells like a million babies all shat themselves in here.”

The leader’s face darkened. “If those Shells simply knew their place, then-” he spat out before thinking better of it and cutting himself off mid-sentence. He sent a withering glare Tehlmar’s way for daring to besmirch the wonders of Stragma, causing Tehlmar to fight down an amused smirk. The man was far too easy to tease. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know about the Shells and the strife they’d caused the last season or two. Everybody knew by now.

Unfortunately, Tehlmar’s knowledge wasn’t much more in the know than the average citizen. He knew about the Shells and their refusal to work. He knew there was a man who led them who, for some unknown reason, the Chos wouldn’t kill even though it would likely end the disruptions. He knew that the man had entered into the public consciousness seemingly out of nowhere and that nobody seemed to know where he’d come from. That was about as detailed as the reports went. Adding in his own experience and knowledge to these reports led Tehlmar to a rather disquieting conclusion as to the man’s origins, though it was one that the agents of Drayhadal were sadly unable to confirm.

One of the dirty secrets of the Masked Battalion was that there were surprisingly few agents in Stragma and none of them were in a position with access to juicy intelligence. Unlike the rest of the world, where the existence of the secret order was little more than a myth believed only by crackpots, in Stragma the order’s existence was taken as a stone cold fact.

Back in the day, the vast majority of Battalion activity had naturally concentrated on Stragma. However, such attention came at a cost; over the centuries, there had been enough cases of dead Stragmans turning into elves for the Stragmans to catch on to the Drayhadan’s activities. From that point onward, the jungle-dwellers had implemented a series of ever-increasing security measures designed to detect impostors, and the task of the Masked Battalion had become immeasurably more difficult.

These days, fewer members of the Battalion could be found in Stragma than at any other time in the last few centuries. The ability of the order to acquire truly useful information had suffered as a result. If he as Jaquet hadn’t luckily learned of the Stragman’s surprise second prong invasion of the Esmae clan’s territory and sent a warning, the Stragmans would have pillaged the entire unprepared area. Three hundred years ago, such lucky circumstances would not have been necessary—the Masked Battalion would have learned of the attack from multiple different well-placed sources well in advance.

As poor a state the Masked Battalion currently was in this respect, the state of Hoxoni was far worse. The deeper he and his “captors” went into the caves, the nastier the surroundings and the accompanying smell became. Only the steady airflow coming from the various entrances kept the place breathable at all.

All was not well in this city. He could feel the simmering anger in the locals’ stares. It bubbled beneath the surface, ready to spew forth at any time. He understood, of course; nobody would enjoy living in a home that smelled like a refuse pile all day, every day, but right now, that anger was pointed at him and he wanted nothing to do with it.

“Should we not quicken our pace?” he asked. “The sooner I can relay my message the better.”

“You don’t get to give orders here, elf,” one of the soldiers replied, giving the vines a sharp jerk and causing Tehlmar to stumble. The onlookers laughed. “You will go where we take you and that is all.”

“And where would that be?” Tehlmar replied, flashing an unconcerned smile.

The answer turned out to be a cell, a dark one. Here in Hoxoni, it seemed that the country’s prisoners were housed in a section of the caves that splintered off from the rest of the system with only one tunnel leading into the prison area. Unlike much of the rest of the caves, this area seemed largely man-made, judging by the uniformity of the hallways and the cells.

The cell was little more than a small rectangular room with an arched ceiling, a straw mat for a bed, and some glowing moss on the ceiling and one of the walls. A wooden set of vertical bars served as the gate between him and freedom. He thought about just breaking through the wood but thought better of it. Surely they wouldn’t put just some weak wood between all their prisoners and escape. Even if he were to get out, where would he go? While he didn’t particularly like the treatment he’d received so far, if he looked at it from the right perspective, this cell was really just a very poor guest house.

“Heh heh, well this is new,” chuckled a dry voice from across the way. “I haven’t seen a living sharp-ear in years. Never thought I’d see one while in this place, that’s for sure.”

Tehlmar turned towards the sound, looking out through the bars to see a man leaning against the side wall of the cell across the hall. The man was about average in height for a Stragman, with a lean body that bordered on lanky. Abnormally long, pointed triangular ears swiveled this way and that above his speckled tan hair.

Tehlmar strode up to the bars and leaned up against them, letting his forearms hang through the gaps like he didn’t have a care in the world. He smiled a confident, friendly grin. “Well hello there, friend. Seems like I’ll be your neighbor. For a few hours, at least.”

“Oh, you’re no friend of mine, sharp-ear,” the man replied, returning Tehlmar’s smile with a far more predatory one of his own. “And I hate to break it to you, but I doubt you’ll be leaving this place any time soon.”

“Oh really? And why would that be?”

“Are you daft? Just where do you think you are?”

“Your people’s prison?”

The Stragman chuckled knowingly. “Is that what you think this is? Where we lock up all the criminals of this country?”

“...yes? I mean, we have cells, we have bars keeping us inside the cells... I don’t know about you, but I’ve been in a lot of dungeons in my life and they all tend to adhere to the same basic principles really.”

His counterpart’s smirk didn’t budge. “Tell me, ‘friend’, how many cells did you pass by on your way in here?”

“About ten, I guess.”

“There’s millions of people in Stragma. Surely you don’t think we’re so well-behaved here that we’d only have ten criminals. The real prisons are outside with everything else—normal buildings that can be transported like all the rest, not some holes dug in the rock off to the side where nobody will bother to go.”

The smile on Tehlmar’s face stiffened slightly. “And just what would this place be, then?”

The man leaned in, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “This is where they put the ‘special’ cases. Those whose existence is... inconvenient for those in charge who would prefer us forgotten by the rest of society.”

Tehlmar’s smile broadened at the information. “Well, my father always said I was special.”

“Gwahaha!” the man laughed, the first malice-free action he’d performed since the start of their conversation. “You’re an interesting one, I’ll give you that.”

“Name’s Tehlmar.”

“Bitol Fogrunner-fleg, at your service.”

“Let me tell you something, Bitol. Regardless of what you say about this place, I’ll be out of here before you know it.”

“Thinking of trying to escape? I wouldn’t recommend it if you value your life—which, given that you ended up here, maybe you don’t.”

“No, they’ll let me out on their own. You’ll see.” He pointed to his head, knowingly. “I know the magic words.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Bitol replied, making no attempt to hide the fact that he did not actually expect to see anything of the sort anytime soon.

“So what gets a guy like you stuck in a place like this?” Tehlmar inquired, shifting the topic of conversation elsewhere before it could get too deep into things he didn’t want to talk about in public. “No offense, but you don’t seem too ‘special’ to me.”

“Sorry, that information doesn’t come for free. I’ve been gabbing too much already. Must be the loneliness.”

“I’ll trade you. Your story for mine. Don’t you want to know what an elf like me is doing in a place like this?”

Bitol thought for a moment before shrugging. “Don’t have much else to do around here anyway,” he mumbled to himself as he sat down and rolled onto his back to stare up at the softly glowing fungi above him.

“Bad luck, bad decisions, take your pick. What matters now is that I’m just leverage,” he said with a sigh. “Better than being dead, I guess.”

“A political prisoner?” Tehlmar quickly put the pieces together. “If the Chos is holding you here, then that makes you leverage against...”

“Yeah, there’s only one person who could stand up to her. Rudra. When I met him he was just lost and confused man. Had no idea what was going on or what he was doing. Given how things turned out, seems like he still has no idea what he’s doing.”

“Sounds like you’re not a fan of his actions.”

“People like me prefer it when things stay as they are. Makes it easier to find the cracks when everything isn’t shifting about.”

“Then why did they throw you in here if you aren’t even on his side?”

“I am on his side. I owe him a debt that can never be fully repaid. I’d do just about anything he asked me, short of killing my own mother.”

“...that’s quite a commitment.”

“Dying does that to a man.”

Tehlmar eyebrows rose in disbelief. So it was true. He’d thought the reports to be hyperbolic exaggerations at best, but here was confirmation: the Stragmans had somebody on their side who could conquer death. It explained how they’d been able to regroup after the failure of the first invasion and strike a second time so quickly. The ramifications of such a fact were not lost on him. It meant the eventual end of Drayhadal. While Tehlmar was not in love with the country of his birth, he didn’t particularly desire the sort of ending the Stragmans would deliver.

Luckily for them, this man, Rudra, seemed far more intent on the end of Stragma than the end of Drayhadal. The state of the city outside this tiny prison said plenty about the man’s goals. Tehlmar almost pitied Akhustal Palebane for the position she was in, but at the same time couldn’t help but grow his respect for her.

Pyria had told him herself all about what she’d done to the Chos’ husband and lover, not to mention the rest of the Second Army. If instead Arlette was dead, and the one person on the planet capable of bringing her back was refusing to do so unless he sold out everything Drayhadal stood for, Tehlmar knew that he would have sold out his country in an instant. That, or he would torture that man so horribly that even Pyria would find his actions appalling. The fact that the Chos had not fallen into either pit even after so long showed her strength better than any physical feat ever could.

“Alright, your turn,” Bitol said after a moment. He’d shifted into a more nonchalant position, lying on his side with his head propped by an elbow.

“I’m here to deliver a message to the Chos.”

“You came all this way to deliver a message?” he laughed. “Now I’m extra curious. That must be one important message if it can’t be sent by Many. Why not tell your new pal Bitol?”

Now it was Tehlmar’s turn to laugh. “Oh, we’re friends now? I thought you said you weren’t my friend?”

“Come now, that’s in the past.”

“Sorry, can’t tell you. It’s too important.”

“You can, however, tell me,” a third voice cut in.

Tehlmar nearly jumped at the sound of the voice from the end of the hallway, having not detected anybody in the area other than Bitol. Feminine and soft—weak, even—the voice still carried an authority that could not be denied. Tehlmar recognized it immediately. Several moments later, he spied the grey locks and pallid skin of one Tepin Silverfall.

“I am Tepin Silverfall, assistant to the Chos. I am here to hear your message, so state it now,” she said with quiet monotone.

“My message is for your leader’s ears only,” Tehlmar insisted.

“I decide what is for her ears,” she replied plainly, her voice calm and passionless ever. “Now speak.”

Tehlmar stepped away from the bars and crossed his arms defiantly. He stared back at the emotionless woman and said, “I refuse.”

“Very well,” the administrator said with a shrug as she turned away. “Enjoy your stay. I’m sure you two will become intimately acquainted over the years.”

“Wait wait wait!” Tehlmar cried, rushing back up to the wooden bars just in time to see the woman pause at the edge of his vision. “Look, I can’t tell you my message, but I can say this: tell the Chos nothing would make Pyria Esmae more furious than if she met with me in private.”

His sister’s name seemed to strike a chord with Tepin, and she hesitated for a moment before continuing way back down the hall. “I will pass that along,” he heard her say. “I hope you are ready for what those words will bring upon you.”
* * *
“Shouldn’t we be heading the other way?” Tehlmar wondered aloud as he, Tepin, and a small army of Stragman warriors made their way through the cave system. Given the tucrenyx shackles binding both his legs and arms, walking was a slow and laborous process and he didn’t want to do any more of it than needed.

“Are you insinuating that I can’t navigate through my own city?” inquired an annoyed and weary Tepin.

“Well, it’s just that I thought I saw the Chos’ palace or whatever you call it back that way, closer to the cave entrance.”

Tepin arched an eyebrow and slowed to a halt. “How would you know what the Chos’ manor looks like?” she asked.

An ominous chill ran down his body. “The guards taking me to that cell told me yesterday when I asked them about the fancy house we were passing by,” he quickly lied.

The administrator stared at him dispassionately for a moment before turning back and resuming forward motion. Tehlmar held back a sigh of relief. She didn’t look convinced, per se, but she hadn’t pressed the issue so he figured he was in the clear for the moment.

“We are not going to the Chos’ manor. The Chos does not have the time nor the interest in altering her schedule to suit some fool of an elf, and so you will meet with her where she is and be thankful that she had deemed you worth talking to at all.”

“And where would that be, exactly?”

“Here,” the woman replied, stopping before a large wooden door in the side of the cave wall. A closer look at the door revealed that it seemed to be made of a similar material to the wooden bars that blocked the prison cells.

“What’s this?” he asked as the guards removed the tucrenyx shackles.

“Her private training grounds. She’s in a particularly bad mood today,” Tepin answered with a sarcastic smile. “Good luck.”

Before Tehlmar could protest, the guards shoved him through the now-open doorway and shut the door behind him. The training room was larger than he’d thought, perhaps forty paces wide and long with a rounded ceiling a good twenty paces over his head. Four pillars, each about two paces in diameter, connected the floor and ceiling about a third of the way towards the center from each corner.

To his right, Tehlmar found destruction. What looked like the remains of wooden training dummies were strewn across the floor, along with a scattering of rubble and various broken and dented metal objects. Standing in front of that disaster zone, with her back turned to him, was the giant known as the strongest warrior in the forest: Akhustal Palebane.

Even though he’d seen her before, Tehlmar still couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size of the nearby woman. She had to be around seven paces tall at least, easily the tallest woman he’d ever seen in his long, traveled life, and that height seemed even more daunting now given his newly-diminished stature. But that wasn’t all. Thick, powerful muscles all over her body rippled beneath taut tan skin that glistened with sweat in the glow of the moss all over the chamber. Long white braids of hair fell down past her shoulders, their brightness popping out against her dark skin. On the top of her head, sticking out through those braids, stood two small circular ears. Something about their tininess when compared to the rest of her lent them a strangely cute look.

After a moment of silence where neither moved, Tehlmar cleared his throat. There was no point in waiting for no reason, right? “I greet you, Akhustal Palebane-chos, with the greatest respe-”

“Quiet.” Tehlmar froze in mid-sentence as the giant cut him off with a simple word. “Grab a weapon from the rack behind you.”

“Huh?” Turning around, Tehlmar found a wide array of different weapons arranged on a rack against the wall.

“Did you think you could just stumble into my lands and I would just drop everything to hear what a pathetic elf has to say to me? Ha! No, if you want my attention then you will have to earn it.”

Tehlmar gulped. Why couldn’t things ever be easy? The sound of her turning about and closing in on his back pushed him to make a choice quickly. His eyes swept across the array of weapons before settling on a simple spear. When in doubt, go with what works, right? It looked shorter and lighter than the spear he’d carried about with him back in his Jaquet days, but he was also much less of a man physically these days so it worked out.

Hefting the spear, he turned back towards the Chos. Their eyes met for the first time, and the woman’s gaze, originally a mix of annoyance and frustration, quickly darkened into something far more serious. Tehlmar’s instincts, which had saved him countless times throughout his life, suddenly screamed danger. He did not question them and immediately dove to his left just as a tree trunk masquerading as a club roared through his previous position. The air pressure alone was enough to push him back and he rolled several full rotations before coming to a halt and pushing himself up to one knee.

“Why?!” Akhustal growled as she advanced on him, murderous intent in her eyes. With a smooth, practiced motion, she swung her club down towards his head. Once more, Tehlmar leapt out of the way, just barely avoiding the oversized weapon as it smashed into the ground. The impact shook the room as pieces of stone shot out from the floor, peppering Tehlmar and the surroundings with enough force to bruise. All that remained where the Chos had struck was a crater the diameter of Tehlmar’s arm.

“We don’t have to do this,” Tehlmar bargained, backing up a step. His back hit upon something solid and he realized he’d backed into one of the stone pillars that supported the chamber. “I just came to-”

“Why do you look like her?!”

The massive club came hurtling around from the side this time, its speed and force even greater than before, and Tehlmar threw himself back down to the ground as it crashed into and through the pillar that had stood behind him just a moment before.

As the room trembled and shook, Tehlmar spun around the stump of the former column, using it as an obstacle to slow the rampaging giant down just long enough for him to regain his wits. This was just about as bad a turn as he could think of. Of course he and his sister resembled each other! Why hadn’t he thought about what that would mean beforehand? No, instead he’d just plowed forward like he always did. But this time, there wasn’t anybody else around to help him get out of the mess he’d made. He’d have to figure out a way through this on his own.

But first, he just had to survive. Back when he’d fought Palebane before, as Jaquet, she’d nearly killed him in a single hit. This time, with his significantly lighter body and lack of Feeler-enhanced strength, a single hit would surely do the job. At least he was nimbler this time, so he’d be able to avoid her lethal strikes more easily.

But then what? This was one of the first times in Tehlmar’s life where replying to violence with more violence seemed like a bad idea to him. This woman with the murderous glint in her eyes was the same person who he needed to negotiate with. Somehow, stabbing her with a spear a bunch of times seemed like a very poor choice. That was if he even could manage it. Without Jaquet’s strength and speed, he didn’t stand a chance locking weapons with her.

Using his blood powers, on the other hand, also seemed like a bad idea for the moment. The lack of blood in his body would put too much stress on him for a prolonged fight. It was better to save it for the right moment or when there was simply no other option.

“Who are you?” the Chos growled as she paced around the remains of the pillar.

At first, Tehlmar was tempted to deny any relation to his sister and say his name was “Artiermius”, but decided against it. These negotiations needed to be built on trust or they would be worthless.

“My name is Tehlmar. I am Pyria’s brother,” he said solemnly.

“Bullshit! She doesn’t have a brother.”

“It’s a long story, but it’s true,” Tehlmar sighed, avoiding another swipe of the club. “I came here to negotiate with you about matters of extreme importance, so please stop with this.”

“No, I think I’d rather just kill you,” she replied. “I’ve always wanted to bash her head in, and you’re close enough that it would feel almost as good!” She rushed forward, her club already arcing towards him.

“Please, listen!” Tehlmar begged and bobbed and weaved around the Chos’ flurry of blows. “Surely you realize that we cannot continue to let the Ubrans sweep over Nocend, right? We need to do something about it! I know Drayhadal and Stragma have always been enemies. I know that we hate each other. But this is bigger than our feelings! This is about survival! Even Pyria can understand this! Surely you can too!”

“Silence! Your words mean nothing. Whether you’re a ruse sent by that vile creature or you’re her brother, either way, I’ll end you right here!”

The strikes increased in speed and Tehlmar retreated as best he could, ducking behind another pillar. The move revealed itself to be a poor one as the pillar shattered in one blow as quickly as the previous one had, but this time the resulting shards of rock were headed his way. Several struck him with surprising force, knocking him off balance and sending the spear clattering to the ground.

The giant woman pounced, moving with an athletic grace nobody her size should possess, and grabbed him by the throat with one oversized hand. She pulled him up into the air and held him aloft before her as he squirmed, a grin of satisfaction on her face. He put his arms out against her, trying his best to free himself as she pulled him closer, but his strength was not enough to stop her as she wrapped him in a crushing bear hug. Her massive arms seeming to envelop his entire torso and pinned his hands against his chest.

“Let’s make it nice and slow,” she said with a malicious smile as the pressure on him slowly increased. “I want to enjoy this.”

Tehlmar wheezed as the air was forced from his lungs. He could feel his ribcage creaking as greater and greater force was applied from all sides. There was no way he’d survive this if he didn’t do something. If he wasn’t crushed to death, he’d suffocate soon enough. If there was any time to spring his blood power surprise, this was it.

With great alarm, Tehlmar realized he’d made another grievous error. By trying to fight off Palebane with his arms, he’d gotten them trapped between his and her chest, and the pressure on them was so great that he couldn’t ball them into fists and cut his palms with his nails! To make matters worse, he’d received his share of hits and bruises from the random pieces of rock flying about, but he still had yet to be cut! There was no easy way to remove the blood from his body!

The only option left was to bite his tongue and use what little blood he could get from that to open up more cuts elsewhere while getting free. It seemed that there was no other way. But if she was so dead set on killing him, was there even any hope left for his mission? If she lived, she’d never cooperate, but if he somehow managed to kill her, the rest of the country would still never cooperate. His entire goal had been a hopeless one from the start.

A rib cracked and the already-unbearable crushing pain doubled. Tehlmar forced his mouth open and pushed his tongue out as far as it would go. Then he bit down.

His teeth stopped just a hair’s breadth away from their goal as a random final thought popped into his head. The idea seemed completely crazy, and it went against everything he’d ever been taught as a member of the Masked Battalion, but fuck it, if he wanted to be honest with himself, he didn’t owe those assholes anything anymore.

“What’s this, some last words?” Akhustal asked mockingly.

“You really want to kill the Titan of Twin Rock Pass?” he wheezed out. “I thought you were my biggest fan.”

Ahkustal Palebane froze as her mind processed his words. Suddenly the pressure on Tehlmar ceased and he fell to the ground as she recoiled away from him, a look of horror on her face.

“What did you say?”

Tehlmar coughed and gasped as fresh air mercifully filled his lungs. He climbed back to his feet, his hands clenching into fist hard enough to break the skin. As blood flowed from his freshly-made wounds and formed into twin crimson swords, he stared his opponent in the eye and spoke the secret that he’d sworn many years ago to die before revealing. “My name is Tehlmar Esmae, but for most of my life, I was known as the mercenary Jaquet Delon.”

“You liar!” the Chos spat, her eyes filled with desperate disbelief. “Did one of your little spies tell you to say that? People know about Jaquet!”

“Yeah? Remember that sparring match we had last time? Remember how Letty and I beat you by pinning your club down? How many people know about that?”

Slowly the implications sank in and the Chos began to tremble. “No. No, no, no, nononononoNO!”

Akhustal charged forward, her club whipping around towards him faster than Tehlmar had ever seen it move. Without enough time to avoid the blow, Tehlmar desperately brought his blood swords up to block, reforming them into rudimentary shields to soften the blow as much as possible. That turned out to be not enough, as the giant weapon crashed through the impromptu barriers with momentum to spare and slammed into his left side. Tehlmar felt nearly every rib crumble under the impact as he was thrown clear across the room and into one of the two remaining pillars. The landing did him little better, as the hard stone stopped his flight at the cost of what felt like a fractured tibia.

“You!” Akhustal Palebane howled as she rushed at him like a woman possessed. “You told them! You’re the reason she knew!”

Unable to stand properly anymore, Tehlmar instead used his blood to push him out of the way of the incoming strike. With another ear-splitting crash, the number of pillars in the room dropped to one.

“Stop before you collapse this whole place on top of us,” Tehlmar gasped out as he created a brace made of blood around his broken leg, letting him wobble back to his feet.

“Shut up!” she cried, her assault continuing. “Shut up shut up shut up shut up!”

The Chos bore down on Tehlmar with an endless series of furious attacks, each one strong enough to kill him with even a glancing blow. Only by using his blood to literally throw himself out of the way of each consecutive attack was he able to remain in the land of the living. The giant woman had been holding back the entire time, he realized as she created crater after crater and shook the very foundation of the cave with every attack that struck the ground. Nothing she’d ever done before in either of their battles had ever compared to this terrifying power.

“Why?! Why did it have to be you?” she roared as she pushed him back. “Why did the one who gave me hope as a child have to be you?!”

With alarm, Tehlmar’s back bumped into the cold, hard stone of the wall far before he’d expected to. She’d cornered him!

“It’s over!” the giant declared as she swung her massive club around with enough force to liquefy him in an instant.

Using his blood, Tehlmar flung himself straight up and over the incoming weapon as it smashed into the wall behind him, creating large cracks in the wall that grew quickly outward with each passing moment. His stamina was nearly gone, but he didn’t have any choice to press on. Now at the apex of his ascent, he pushed himself to his limits and once more used his blood to throw himself away from the wall and over his adversary.

To his dismay and disbelief, the Chos, with shocking quickness, let go of her club, turned away from the wall, reached up, and snagged his one remained good leg as he shot by. Tehlmar barely had time to process what had happened before she brutally swung him down like a whip and bashed him into the stone floor below. Tehlmar cried out as he felt his shoulder splinter into a dozen pieces. He entire body screaming in agony, he weakly rolled onto his back and coughed out blood. He tried to move with his powers, but there wasn’t enough energy left within him to move him more than a fraction of a pace at best.

“Killing me won’t accomplish anything,” he gasped out, his one last attempt to talk some reason into her.

His words fell on deaf ears. “Enough! Even if you’re not her, you lying, cheating, torturing Esmae bastards are all the same!” Akhustal crowed, picking up her massive weapon from the ground behind her. “I will cleanse this world of every one of your clan, starting with you!”

What had she just said?! A cold fury roared to life within Tehlmar as the Chos’ declaration filled his ears. As the strength of his rage filled his body, his gaze traveled upwards from the woman’s exultant expression to the club rising up for one final swing, to the ceiling that, just as he focused on it, began to fall in.

Crimson whips shot out from Tehlmar, his blood moving faster than he’d ever made it move before, and wrapped around Akhustal’s limbs and torso. With one final agonizing push, he threw himself towards the other end of the room as hard as he could. The two of them sailed through the air about fifteen paces just as many tons of rock came crashing down on their last position with an ear-splitting boom.

Tehlmar gasped in pain as he landed, his multitude of broken bones each lodging their own individual complaint within his mind, only for that gasp to be cut short as the large muscular woman landed on top of him.

For a second, the two of them just stared at each other before Akhustal climbed off of him. She took a glance back at the corner of the room, which was now completely filled with pieces of rubble ranging from the size of a fist to large enough to crush her flat, and looked back at him with confusion plainly written on her face. “Why did-”

“Listen up,” he hissed, his raging anger the only thing sustaining him at this point. “You want to hate me because your childhood hero turned out to be your hated enemy’s brother? Whatever. You want to hate me because I betrayed your trust so I could save my home? Fine. But don’t you ever, EVER, compare me to that evil, heartless, backstabbing bitch! Never! You got that?!”

The Chos blinked. “What?”
* * *
“Gahaha, you stabbed her? But only once? Ahahahaha!” Akhustal Palebane guffawed as she reclined on a cushioned sofa in her lavish abode, a large mug of frothy ale in her one hand.

Using his only good arm, Tehlmar took a large gulp from his own stein, luxuriating in the cool soothing experience of a decent beverage running down his throat. “Twice, actually, once in each leg,” he replied with a chuckle. “You should have seen the look on her face after the second one. She thought I wouldn’t do it.”

“Should have been through the heart,” the Chos chortled.

“Oh, if only. If I could have, I would have stabbed her a million times, and then maybe taken her body on a tour around the continent so everybody else could get their chance too.”

“You should still do that,” came the reply. “Just make sure you head this way first.”

Tehlmar raised his beer up towards the Chos, who did the same. “To Pyria Esmae,” he intoned. “May she be found rotting in a ditch sooner rather than later.”

“Here, here!” the giant woman called. With practiced ease, she drained the rest of her mug, before twisting around to look towards the door of her chambers. “TEPIN! MORE WINE!” she hollered.

Tehlmar smiled. Ahhh, alcohol: the great creator and destroyer of friendships, and also, thankfully, a great way to suppress the pain from numerous shattered bones and injured organs. His body would be working overtime to heal these over the next ten or so days.

“It’s funny, for some reason it feels better to know she’s always been like that,” the Chos continued. “I always thought she just hated me in particular.”

“Oh, she definitely hates you more than everybody else,” Tehlmar clarified, flashing a knowing grin. “You wanna know why?”

“Because I’m Stragman, right? I’m the leader of the ‘savages’ who attack you.”

“That’s part of it, I’m sure. But really it’s something deeper: she’s jealous.”

“What? Jealous?”

“All her life she’s wanted to rule, but she can’t because she’s a woman-”

“A stupid-ass system if you ask me,” Akhustal chimed in. “Who cares what you are, as long as you’re the strongest?”

“-and then here you come along, some savage living in a forest, and you become the leader of the whole nation and not only does nobody oppose you, you get all the respect in the world. Your citizens love you. I mean, from my experience here, they practically worship you! She can’t handle it, watching you live her dream right in front of her. It drives her up the wall.”

“So just by being here...”

“Yeah, you’re causing her pain just by existing. Every day that you rule here is like stepping on a nail for her. She can’t stand it.”

“Heh. Heheh. Hahahahaha!” The Chos could no longer contain herself and exploded with joyous laughter, which continued for a good while. In the middle of her outburst, the slight, silver-haired administrator entered the room, replaced their mugs with new full ones, and left before her boss had even finished laughing. Eventually, Palebane’s mirth settled down and she wiped the joyous tears from her face with a smile that slowly faded into a detached sadness.

“Every time I look at you, I still can’t believe that you were Jaquet. I just can’t picture you and him as the same person.”

“I’ll let you use one of those lie detecting animals you have if you want proof.”

“No, I believe you now,” she said, forlornly. “It’s just that I really looked up to him... you? Whatever.”

“I still don’t understand why Jaquet the Quick, of all people, became your childhood hero instead of somebody better.”

“When I was a child, I was already strong,” the Chos explained. “I killed my first ranutepo when I was ten, all by myself. It was... startlingly easy, really. Most beasts were, even then.”

Tehlmar whistled in admiration as he remembered his fight with the giant acid-spitting creature in the tunnels to the north. It had taken a lot of effort from him and his friends to take down the thing. The Stragmans later had praised him, telling him that it usually took a dozen or so Blous and maybe even a Hono as well to kill one. To think that a ten-year-old girl could do it on her own... well, actually it tracked perfectly with what he’d seen of the Chos.

“But the price of that strength was that I was alone. The other kids were always terrified of me. They called me a freak and a monster and they avoided me always. I did not enjoy my childhood very much. But then, one day, I met a man who had fled to Stragma to escape a bounty, and he told me stories about his life as a mercenary traveling around the continent. One of the stories was about a man who was incredibly strong. He would wander the continent, moving from mercenary band to mercenary band alone... always alone. For the first time, I found out about somebody just like me.”

“I see...”

“From that point onward, I became the terror of the Marked community—oh, ‘Marked’ is slang for people who flee here to escape bounties. There aren’t too many of them, so they tend to band together a lot for comfort. Most of them live in the same areas and drink at bars run by Marked for Marked, that kind of thing. So when I was still young I’d basically keep track as best I could of new Marked coming in from the outside and when I found some, I’d go into the taverns and bug them for the latest stories about you.”

“Wait, how old were you?”

“I think I started doing this when I was twelve or thirteen? It didn’t go well at first. A lot of ‘get out of here, kid, the adults are drinking’ and stuff like that. But after I beat them up a few times, they stopped giving me guff and it almost became a game for them. They’d take bets to see how long the new people would last against me. I could always tell who the new arrivals were because they were the only people who didn’t immediately go quiet when I walked in.”

She sighed and sank deeper into the cushions. “Now when I look back on that time of my life, I can’t help but think of how much of a fool I was. I’ll never be able to look at it the same way again.”

“Did they help you back then? The stories about me?”

“Yeah, they helped a lot.”

“Then what’s the problem? Look, I get how knowing the truth about who Jaquet really was might make it feel worthless now, but those stories obviously meant a lot to you growing up. Those feelings you had worked, so there’s no reason to be ashamed of them. And besides, I don’t think you connected with a lie.”

“How so?”

Tehlmar drained his cup in one large chug. “I really was alone. Incredibly alone. I had no country, no family, no friends, no home. I had nothing. All those years of wandering about, never staying with a band for more than a year and whatnot? I didn’t know it then, but when I look back on it now, I realize that, deep down, I was searching for something to end that terrible isolation. Something to make me feel like I had somewhere I belonged. The connection you made was real, and it warms my heart now to know that my suffering eased somebody else’s. I’m glad somebody got something out of it, because I sure didn’t.”

Akhustal didn’t say anything for a moment, instead just staring into her drink in thought. “I guess you’re right,” she said eventually. “Because I’m in a good mood, and in honor of our mutual hatred of your sister, I’ll say that the help you gave me back then balances out what you did to ruin the invasion, alright? So I’ll let you live and go free.”

“Wait, were you going to kill me after this anyway? After I fucking saved you and everything?”

“I was considering it. You caused the death of my husband and spoiled what could have been the greatest victory in Stragman history. Should I just forgive that?”

“We’ve been over this, Akhustal,” Tehlmar retorted. “Pyria killed him, not me. I didn’t have anything to do with that. Besides, what would you have done in my position? Would you have kept quiet and invaded your own home and just helped slaughter your own people? Give me a break. It’s not like I knew what Pyria had an old lady from another world who can fuck up your mind waiting for us on the other side. I just thought there’d be some skirmishes and then, with the surprise lost, the army would retreat back into the forest and that would be that.”

The Chos glowered at him but didn’t argue.

“Look, I get it,” Tehlmar continued. “You’re angry, and I’m not going to tell you that you shouldn’t be. But you need to understand that you’re letting your emotions control you, and that’s the worst thing you can do when Pyria is your enemy. She’s a savant at using people’s emotions against them—I would know, she’s done it to me more than I want to admit. Control yourself.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m a child!” Akhustal shot back. “I’m the Chos! Ten million people bow to me!”

“And yet none of them seem willing to tell you the truth!” Tehlmar sighed and rubbed his head with his good hand. “Look, I’m just... I’ve lived a long time, and I’ve made a lot of mistakes—far more than I’d like to admit. You said you saw yourself in me when you were younger? Well, right now, I see myself in you. I see the young me: impulsive, angry, always carrying a grudge, and filled with the desire to lash out at things and people far beyond my reach. I’m trying to tell you, don’t make the same mistakes I did. Think. Don’t let your emotions rule you. And most of all, when somebody tries to help you, don’t reject them and definitely don’t have them executed.”

“FINE! Enough already! I already said I wouldn’t kill you.” She put her cup down. “Enough idle talk for now. Let’s get down to business and hear that message that you came all this way to deliver.”

“Let’s start by stating that I believe that the Ubran Empire is a grave threat to this entire continent and needs to be dealt with before they can establish a hold on the rest of the continent. Would you agree?”

The Chos thought for a moment. “I believe that a warrior always upholds their promises. When I was unable to honor the treaty to help defend against the Ubrans, I felt a shame greater than I have ever felt in my life. That being said, I cannot say that I fear them invading our lands. Yours, yes. Stragma, not so much.”

“I think you are underestimating them. Yes, this place is an incredible buffer and it will hold them off for now, but once there’s nobody else to target, they will come for you and there will be nobody left to aid you. And that’s not to mention the powerful weapons they could gain from their conquests. Right now, the Mother of Nightmares protects Drayhadan lands, but what if the Ubrans took her and used her offensively? What if others were as well?”

“Others?”

“Surely you realize I would know about your own superweapon. The one who’s been causing such a mess for you these last few seasons? Something so publicly disruptive can’t be hidden for long.”

“Tch!” the woman replied. “Yeah...”

“Well, there’s more where those came from. Reports are that the Ubrans have at least one, an unkillable reaper of the battlefield, stronger and faster than any Feeler in history.”

“Hoh? Sounds like a good fight.”

“Do you remember that young woman who was traveling with me when I arrived here the last time?”

“The adorable little girl who made explosives?” The woman smiled as she thought back to those days. “Such a cutie! I almost wanted to adopt her and raise her as my own. A girl after my own heart.”

“No, the other one. Light skin, black hair, clung to Arlette a lot.”

“...nope, don’t remember anybody like that. Is she strong?”

Tehlmar snorted. “I think she might be the weakest person I’ve ever met, including many invalid elderly. I’d wager that your assistant could beat her in a fight.”

“Tepin? You’re joking.”

“Oh, if only. You’d understand if you knew her. But even she gave me a bad feeling. I could never really put in into words well enough to convince Arlette, but something was always off about her. The point is, she’s one of them too and we just randomly came across her in Kutrad one day. Nobody knows how many others are wandering around this world, still undiscovered. And then... there’s the Otharian.”

“Hmmm. He seemed very strong, yes. You think he is one of these superweapons as well?”

“If he can take over an entire country on his own in just a matter of days, even if it is just Otharia, what other explanation is there? I’ve heard he can make metal flow like water, and uses it to build bizarre, powerful devices that can do things long thought impossible. You ever hear of a metal Observer who can do something like that?”

Akhustal frowned. “I have not. Metal Observers are incredibly rare but none of the ones I know of can build anything more complicated than a blade.”

“Right, so he is surely something else. But that’s not all. Did you know that he has even conquered flight?”

“What?”

“It’s true. I haven’t seen it myself, of course, but from what I’ve been told, he created a massive object that moves through the sky and floats in the air like a fish in water. Currently, he sends it to Crirada and uses it to drop his metal warbeasts. Now imagine if the Ubrans got their hands on that. Imagine not just one flying device, but a hundred, each easily floating right over the forest that you count on to protect you. Imagine them dropping soldiers, metal warbeasts, and maybe even other superweapons down on your city. And imagine there being nobody else left to come to your aid.”

Akhustal Palebane didn’t respond for several moments. “You wouldn’t have come here without a proposition for this,” she said finally. “What is your solution?”

“There are plans underway to turn Drayhadal away from the non-aggression treaty signed centuries ago and launch an attack on the Ubrans while they still struggle with what remains of Eterium. However, such a plan will never succeed as long as the shadow of Stragma looms over us. Too many in my country still see you as a greater threat than Ubrus. I was sent here to negotiate a secret treaty with you: a temporary truce that can be shown to be durable enough that those in Drayhadal who waver will fall on the side of attacking the Ubrans.”

“And who sent you here to talk for them? If it were the faction in power now, you would not be here in secret. So who would have the power to back up such a commitment?”

“...Pyria.”

The Chos leapt to her feet, her eyes blazing with fury. “What?! How can I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth when you obey the very woman you claim to despise?”

“I don’t ‘obey’ her,” Tehlmar clarified, “we just have mutually aligned goals for once. If there was a single other option, I would have killed her long ago and taken it instead. This isn’t like before.”

“How can you say that, after all your talk?”

“Because, for once, I’m using her instead. All of this, she thinks it’s her idea. It’s not.” He smiled knowingly. “She thinks I’m just some clueless idiot who doesn’t realize what she’s doing, and I see no reason to correct that misconception. She sent me down here to get me out of the picture. If I could somehow negotiate something with you, good, and if by chance I ended up dead, well, all the better. But what she doesn’t realize is that I have my own ideas.”

“Do you now?” she asked skeptically.

“Yes. Her idea was that I would ensure that you wouldn’t be invading Drayhadal so our army would be free to strike the Ubrans. Of course,” he added quickly as Akhustal opened her mouth, “we would be leaving the Mother of Nightmares behind to keep you from getting any silly ideas.”

The Chos closed her mouth with a frown.

“The thing is, Pyria will always see you as savages. In her mind, the best plan is to just get you out of the way. I know better. I’ve been here before. I’ve seen just how sophisticated you are, in your own way. That’s why, instead of coming to convince you to stay put, I’m here to tell you that you should strike the Ubrans with us.”

“A joint attack? Between our two nations? You must be crazy.”

“I’ve seen enough shifting loyalties on the battlefield to know that it’s possible for two enemies to put their hatred aside for just a moment when it benefits them both. I’m not talking some sort of long-term alliance. I’m just talking about a single operation.”

“And why would I agree to that? If you’re going to strike the Ubrans, why not just sit back and let you take all the losses? As much as I hate to admit it, we are not capable of something like a large scale attack right now with our current resources.”

“Because I’m not sure that the Drayhadan army is enough to win, first of all. They’ve always been more of a defensive force, and don’t have the numbers the Ubrans have even if you added in the Eterians. But more so, because an attack would solve your resource problems, at least for a while. Think about it. The Ubrans are sustaining massive numbers and have all sorts of supplies and resources both with their army and coming through the Divide every day. I know it’s a risk, but if you commit, we can defeat them and you can pillage them to your heart’s delight. That should give you some breathing room to help you deal with your own internal problems.”

“And what would you be doing while we are risking our lives?”

“I’d be on the front lines, just like you. We both know that’s where I belong.”

“I need some time to ponder this,” said the giant woman. “One last thing, for now: what do you get out of all this? And what does she get out of it?”

“The continued survival of our nation isn’t enough?” Tehlmar asked innocently.

“Don’t take me for a fool. She wouldn’t go this far without the promise of something more.”

“She gets to consolidate power and influence in the Drayhadan government. And more importantly perhaps, she won’t have to worry about my threat to her rule over the Esmae.”

“Even if you survive?”

“Yes. Because if I get what I want out of this, I’ll be doing something very, very stupid once it’s all over.”