“We faced aggression passing through Dekari Gorge and thumper territory, as expected,” the Blau reported through the Many’s projection.  “All attacks were repelled successfully with few losses.”

Akhustal Palebane nodded curtly.

“Still no signs of unusual beast activity?” General Fernfeather-hono checked.

“No sign,” came the response, just like yesterday, the day before, and each day since they’d split from the main migration.  Still, Fernfeather-hono insisted on asking each and every time.

As annoying as it was, nobody blamed him.  The strange, unexpected, and incredibly disruptive movements of the ranutepos the year prior had thrown their entire society into chaos.  Nobody wanted to be caught unawares again.  That was why, even though nobody had spotted any significant changes in the animal movements in any of the following migrations, they made sure to keep a careful watch.

She should have felt glad that things were working out, and deep down somewhere, she did.  It was just that said feeling was buried deep under layers and layers of grievance, aggravation, and frustration.  She shouldn’t be here beside the Great Mother, as grand and holy as this place was.  She shouldn’t have had to waste days and days traveling here with the other Honos.  All of this was a pointless waste of her time, and each successive wasted day put her in a fouler mood than before.

This was all their fault—Tepin, Rudra, that woman, and Fernfeather.  She blamed them all equally.

Tepin had surely been the one behind this whole stupid formality; the way she’d whispered instructions into the woman’s ear had not slipped Akhustal’s notice.  That woman was to blame for showing up and trying to steal her special resource;  Fernfeather was to blame for being a nerd who read the histories and a stickler for formalities; no doubt he was enjoying every moment of this stupid crap.  Rudra was to blame for... for being Rudra.  She didn’t know how this was his fault exactly, but she had no doubt it was.  That was just the exasperating nature of that man’s existence; he was as stubborn as a tree, and as thick as one too.

“If that is all, then you are dismissed,” she huffed, bringing the report to a close.  The Blau saluted as the image faded into the air.

With the end-of-day check-in concluded, the daily administrative meeting—the sort that she used to just let Tepin deal with because of how much she hated them—began to wind down.  She glared Fernfeather’s way as he brought up something or other, keeping the assembled Honos stuck in this accursed tent another few moments.

“Enough hold-ups,” she barked.  “Let’s get this farce over with.”

“Not yet, Palebane-chos,” Fernfeather tut-tutted.

“Why not?!” she snapped.  “We’ve been waiting all day!”

“The texts are clear: the choosing ceremony begins at First Glow and no earlier.”

With a frustrated growl, she stomped her way out of the tent, only to take a turn and stomp into another one beside the first.  Her personal tent was not very large; they’d decided to leave the usual one with the main migration.  Still, it was a few paces broader than the others, as befitting her station.

She knew the source of the soft pad of footsteps behind her without having to turn around.

“You look like you’re ready to pop,” Caprakan teased.

Akhustal grunted as she dropped her club beside her bedding and flopped down atop it.  Rolling onto her back, she held her arms out towards her special one.  He gamely slid into her offered embrace, bringing his face up over hers and covering her head and shoulders with long, soft red-orange curls.

“It’s so good to see you finally returned, both in body and mind,” she said, noting the smooth and easy way he’d moved.  “Even after I got you back, I felt like you were lost.”

“I was lost,” he agreed.  “I didn’t know what to make of anything anymore.  It took me a long time, but now, I see the trail winding through the trees.  I only wish I was fully recovered so I could aid you in the challenge.”

Caprakan’s recovery had been long and arduous.  Serious tendon and ligament injuries always took many times longer to heal than bones and most other injuries, and that was when there was just one.  Pyria had ensured that basically every single one in his legs had been torn, among other terrible things.  Without the Otharian’s metal braces, he would never have come this far, this fast.  This fact made that woman’s actions all the more infuriating.  She’d thought that their two nations had begun building a mutually beneficial relationship, but like always, the rest of Nocend liked to look down on her nation.

“It’s alright.  We won’t be needing you, anyway.  It’s not like anything will even happen with how the ceremony will go.”

“You never know what the future holds, dearest.  Never forget that.”

“Yes, yes,” she grumbled.  “I’m just glad you’re here with me again.  If you weren’t, I’d probably have smashed somebody’s skull in by now.  Thanks for... being you and being here.”

“Who else would take care of you and look out for you?”  He smirked.  “Ruresni knows, you won’t take care of yourself.”

Before Akhustal could speak some sort of unconvincing denial, he leaned in and surprised her with a deep kiss.  He held it for several moments before at last pulling back with a shit-eating grin on his face.  “Feeling less ornery yet?”

“A little,” she allowed, “but it will take much more than that to slay so many days of pent-up aggravation.”

“Well, give me a moment and—”

A deep, reverberating roar strong enough to cause the tent’s walls to ripple cut him off before he could say something cheesy.  She sat up, the fact that he was on top of her providing little challenge, and grabbed her war club off the ground.

“Sorry, love,” she said with a feral grin, “but sometimes the only way to feel better is to beat the absolute crap out of something.  No hard feelings.”

He chuckled.  “I feel bad for whatever’s coming.  Go.  Do what you do best.”

Akhustal stepped outside and looked out over the massive roots upon which they’d made camp.

As awe-inspiring as Ruresni was, there were a handful of good reasons why Stragmans generally avoided the place.  The biggest reason, and the one relevant to the moment, was the local wildlife.  The plants and animals here took after the great mother, perhaps nurtured by her proximity, to grow to incredible sizes that put even the denizens of Titan Grove to shame.  Sensing intruders, a variety of angry beasts continued to show up throughout the day to attack any who dared trespass upon their territory.  Perhaps if they all struck at once the Stragman’s position here would become untenable, but instead, they generally attacked one at a time.  Her suspicion, fueled by the howls and screeches they’d hear emanating from deeper into the forest, was that her and the others’ arrival had thrown off a fragile balance, bringing about a war for territory between the most powerful creatures in the area.  The beasts couldn’t assault the Stragman’s camp because they were too busy assaulting each other.  Only the few who managed to win enough battles to get through were able to make it here.

The latest beast to show its face definitely looked like a winner.  This towering behemoth looked like a serpent that somebody had stuck six powerful legs onto.  Strangely, it had a hide of fuzzy brown hair instead of the usual scales.  A gash in that hide above its middle left leg oozed crimson blood down its side, but the blood and viscera dripping from between the many teeth in its long snout made clear who’d come out on top.

The titan crashed out of the tree line and began ascending the massive sloped root structure atop which her people had camped, its four eyes seeming to stare right at her.  She stared back and smiled.  She’d never seen anything like it, but that didn’t matter.  It had never seen anything like her.

Eager to let it all out, Akhustal rushed forward, hopping, skipping, and sliding down the roots to meet the angry beast halfway.  As she approached, it greeted her with a mighty hiss and slashed at her with its left front leg.  The ferocity of the swipe showed that the creature was not slowed by its injury, but Akhustal evaded its mammoth claws with ease all the same.  Giant beasts might pack a punch, but their attacks were just too slow and telegraphed to worry her too much.  That was why she liked fighting other people so much more than beasts.  The blistering speed of a great Feeler could push her far more than something like this ever could.

Yet, perhaps things were looking up for her today, as the monstrous creature pulled a surprise on her.  Winding up for a swipe with its right leg this time, it opened its mouth wide as it did.  A tongue, long and thicker than she was tall, shot out of its maw with delightful speed, forcing her to dodge to the side.  Sticky-looking slime covered the muscle, and she knew to avoid touching it lest she get trapped.  Its presence behind her ruled out the easiest direction to avoid the swipe, just as the right leg hurtled towards her.  She still had a very short moment to dodge, but the claws and foot were just too long for her to get clear in time.

That was just fine with her.  She grinned wickedly as she reared back with her war club.  If she couldn’t dodge, then she just had to hit it harder than it could hit her.  She swung with all her might, feeling her frustrations slough off her as she did.

Yet, before her mighty branch could connect with the oncoming mass of brown-fuzzed flesh, something flashed by to her left just within her peripheral vision.  The beast’s leg twisted and fell, bouncing against the ground as it lost much of its momentum.  Still mid-strike, Akhustal found her weapon swinging through nothing but air.  Shifting its weight as low as she could manage, she was able to recover with little more than a small stumble.  Quickly, she threw out a rushed backswing with only her upper body behind it as the side of the beast’s foot slid into her.  With its weight increased dramatically, the club was able to bring the limb to a standstill, keeping her from being squashed into the gross tongue, but that was all.

A deafening roar drowned out the sounds of her battle, and the tongue behind her retracted as the beast threw its head towards the sky and cried out in agony.  It wasn’t hard to spot why.  Its right leg had been nearly severed, a great cut slicing through about three-quarters of its diameter, including the bone.  No longer a source of support, it hung from the remaining muscle and skin.

Before Akhustal could make another move, a figure landed atop its head and buried a giant blade into the top of its skull.  The beast’s roar cut out, replaced by a weak, pained, rattling screech.  The monster shook its head, but it lacked the means to remove its assailant from the top of its noggin.  The blade descended once more, then twice, and the behemoth fell limp.

Akhustal ground her teeth, the day’s frustration returning to roost upon her.  That woman had ruined her fight again!  Practically every time a creature had attacked on the way here and since their arrival, she’d gotten in the way of Akhustal’s fun.  She had to be doing it on purpose, the Chos knew.  There could be no other explanation.

“Done with your little games for now?” the Chos called out.

The woman peered down from her perch atop the slain beast’s skull and returned her glare with nervous confusion.  “The one general, Leaffeather or something, says it’s time to start the challenge.”

Akhustal’s mouth drew out into a tight-lipped grin as she glanced upward and spotted the beginnings of Ruresni’s brilliant glow emanating from its grand canopy.  Finally!  She turned her back on the woman and began her hike back up the root to the camp.  The woman did the same, quickly shooting past her with a series of long forward leaps.  As aggravating as Akhustal found her, she couldn’t deny that the woman was perhaps the greatest Feeler she’d ever seen or fought.  Still, she could see the tension in the woman’s movements and the way she held herself.

The challenger was nervous, the Chos had no doubt.  She had surely come to realize what Akhustal had known from the start: that her challenge would crumble here at the ceremony.  They both knew this was all a big joke, but only one of them was looking forward to the punchline.

*     *     *

“As the highest of all uninvolved with the Challenge, I shall speak for the Mother,” Fernfeather-hono announced to the assembled crowd.  He stood atop a long and thin raised platform that looked more grown than built—surely Caprakan’s work, at least in part.  He stood alone, but as far as she understood, that would be changing soon.  “Gabriela Carreno, step forward!”

Bidden by his call and gesticulations, that woman, Gabriela, walked up a ramp set into the far end of the platform.

“Under the glow of my great canopy, do you challenge Akhustal Palebane for the title of Supreme Chos, Who Reigns Over Stragma?”

The woman glanced out at the crowd of Honos and went nearly rigid.  After a few halting breaths, she replied with an “I do” so soft that Akhustal could barely hear it.

“Akhustal Palebane-chos, step forward!”

Unable to hide her smirk, Palebane strode up another, closer ramp and presented herself for all to see.

“On this momentous night beneath my bows, do you accept this challenge?”

“I accept!” she declared, her voice loud and strong for all to hear.

“The challenge is accepted!” Fernfeather-hono proclaimed, and the assembled crowd let out an uproarious cheer.  “Both the challenger and the challenged will demonstrate their strength at first light!  They will ascend my mighty trunk, do battle with my guardians, and acquire my divine acunai petals at my peak!  The first to return will prove they are the strongest, for they will have displayed speed, endurance, power, and skill greater than the other!

“However, strength exists in forms beyond the personal, and a Chos must do more than fight—they must lead!  Those who desire to reign supreme must command with wisdom and have the support of the people!  And so, the Selection will now begin!”

Another large cheer from the crowd.  Akhustal rolled her eyes.  Fernfeather-hono was having far too much fun doing this.

“The challenged by right shall begin the Selection!  You, who stands with Palebane-chos, speak now!”

“I will!” a voice called out from the front of the crowd—General Cloudburner-hono.

“The first of three declares herself!” Fernfeather-hono proclaimed as Cloudburner-hono ran up the ramp to join Palebane.

“I will!” a second voice called out, also from the front of the pack.  This was no coincidence; her party had been determined well beforehand.

“I will!”

In just a moment, three accomplished and powerful Honos stood behind her.

“Challenger Carreno, it is time to demonstrate your support!  You, who stands with Carreno, speak now!”

The crowd fell nearly silent, of course.  Nobody wanted to be on Akhustal’s bad side when this waste of time was over.  The quiet revealed that this would end just how she’d foreseen.  Without a party, Carreno’s challenge would fizzle and she would lose by default.  Of course, Palebane and her associates had not simply sat on their hands this whole time.  Knowing that Fernfeather’s faction might consider throwing support behind the newcomer, they’d spent the journey making sure that none of them would dare.

“I will!”  A deep voice cut through the quiet.  Akhustal turned her gaze to the far side edge of the assembled Stragmans, where that woman’s little posse could be found.  As expected, barring any other options, Rudra had stepped forward to fill a spot—metaphorically, of course; he was still stuck in his cage, though now, as a potential party member, she had to let him out for the first time in seasons.

The door was eventually unlocked and opened, and the large man joined that woman on the opposite side of the stage.

“The first of three declares herself!” Fernfeather-hono proclaimed again.  “Will any other step forward?”

Akhustal’s grin grew into a wicked smile as relative silence returned.  Carreno had already played all her cards just to get one.  Now, nobody was left.  Who else could she take on, Tepin?  There was no world where that would happen.  Not even Fernfeather-hono, who Akhustal knew questioned her leadership, could volunteer, as he’d taken himself out of the picture by assuming the role of the speaker.

She closed her eyes and reveled in the quiet.  Not a single Hono dared even murmur; the only sound other than that of the forest was a slightly muffled voice from somewhere by Rudra’s cell, but she could not make out its source.

“Oh!  Oh!  Me!  Me, me, me!” the child-like voice shouted.  Several people moved aside to reveal that woman’s little beastkin child bouncing up and down like a hungry refferk, her hand eagerly waving back and forth above her tiny head.

Palebane didn’t know what to think.  She had known of the possibility but had dismissed it out of hand.  This girl was so important to Carreno and her cohort that they’d traded great value for her revival.  She was clearly special to them, and now they were going to let her enter the most dangerous place in all of Stragma?  It wasn’t just crazy, it was negligent!  Not even Akhustal had dared to climb Ruresni until she was twelve!

Akhustal had not ignored the child during their many-day trek; it had been damn near impossible for anybody to miss her antics as she ran this way and that, looking at and grabbing bits and pieces of most everything she found.  Still, she’d seen little to indicate that the child was anything more than a child, strange alchemical creations aside.  She wasn’t strong like Akhustal had been even when young.  She’d be a liability.

“Pari, no!” that woman immediately called out, putting a stop to that line of thought.

The child’s ears drooped and she stopped hopping around and began to pout.  “But, I wanna—”

“It’s far too dangerous!  I promised to keep you safe.  There’s no way I’m letting you climb this thing!”

Putting aside her referring to the Mother Tree as merely a “thing”, Akhustal couldn’t help but approve—not only because it was the right choice, but because it meant Carreno was still left with only a single party member.

“Will any others step forward?” Fernfeather-hono asked.

Once again, nobody did.

“Challenger Carreno, should you be unable to field a full party, your challenge will fail here and now,” he said to her loud enough that all could hear.

Carreno stared out at the assembled crowd, looking, hoping for somebody to volunteer.  Moment after moment piled on, but nobody responded to her silent plea.  Nobody, except one beastkin child who apparently didn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no’.

“Oh!  Me, me!  I will!  Me!” she started chirping again, sensing weakness in that way that only children could.

The woman deflated like a waterskin that just had a hole punched in it.  Her emotions were writ plain upon her face as she struggled with her decision in front of everybody.  “Okay, Pari, you can come,” she relented at last, defeated.

“Yaaayyy!”

The child scampered up through the crowd and up behind Rudra.  She clapped her hands together and giggled.

Akhustal, however, felt none of that joy.  She disapproved of including a child in the Challenge, and she didn’t like that Carreno’s party only needed one more member.  Still, she knew without a doubt that there would not be a third volunteer.  Even after sacrificing her morals, that woman still could not produce a full party, and her Challenge was as dead as the beast she’d slain.  Akhustal’s mocking smile did not fade.

Until a third voice spoke, and it suddenly did.

“I will.”

Everybody gasped at the sound of the voice, and Akhustal froze.  Her world seemed to turn upside down as she struggled and failed to understand what she’d just heard.  No, her ears had surely lied to her, for what she’d just heard was impossible, as the voice was not just a voice that she knew, but the voice that she knew better than anyone else.

There was just no way.  There was just no way that he would do such a thing—and yet, it was happening.

“Caprakan, what—  Why are—”

The words wouldn’t come out, the questions stuck in her throat.  Her husband, the love of her life, the man she’d sacrificed so much for to bring back in more than one meaning of the term, stalked up the far ramp and took position behind the others.  He met her disbelieving gaze with an emotionless, unblinking stare of his own but said nothing to explain himself, steadfastly refusing to make any of this heart-stabbing betrayal make sense.

They must have gotten to him, somehow.  It was the only way this made any sense.

Akhustal vowed to make this right.  There were all manner of dangerous things that could happen up in the Mother Tree, especially when you were dealing with a Shell and a child.  That woman would regret daring to touch Caprakan.  She’d make sure of that.