Chapter Two: Duty and Desire

Five summers blazed the skies, consistent in becoming a distant memory with every bitter, gelid winter. The sun's passing did nothing to shadow the loss of the Lady of Mendesa. With a new dawn came mourning, the night would provide tears. The heart of the tribe had been shattered that night of a tempest storm. That storm never left Mendesa's people.

The tempest had yet to cease. Their civilisation left unguarded, the Blight forced the tribe further into the forest. With makeshift homes more primitive than their last, they would fall victim to the weather. If not, the wandering Matulu and Ulhetr would surely make their end.

Their numbers would dwindle. At the rise of the moon, the lives of the Mendesa tribe were snatched. The terror stricken wails drowned the air, the sounds of shredding claws ripping at the flesh and the quieting night lead to many waking nights.

But resilient the Mendesa people proved to be. With sharpened blades and greater vigilance, the people endured and prevailed.

After many moons of this endurance, a spring of hope beaconed their glorious return to power. Blessed by Gawande, her thick roots delve into the rich soil beneath the ground and nourished the earth. Her nurturing foundation tore at the soil, forming a cavity beneath the grand oak's density.

Over time, Mendesa became an underground civilisation. Gawande would feed their crops, their vitality provided by the Gombe River. At dawn, they would hunt and scavenge, locking themselves away before dusk.

Slowly but surely, the tribe regained their strength and numbers.

Kaba Forest rejuvenated with every passing spring. The destruction of the mighty storm becoming a sullen-sung tale among the people that had been buried under fresh bark and enriched foliage. The mystery towards the sudden attack in the battle for Kaba Forest questioned the scholars and workers of Mendesa. The conclusion would always fall to the wrath of the all mighty; Shaltier, Ruler of the Realms.

Wanting nothing more than to leave that night behind him, Sonar objected to hearing the legends in his presence. Should his people dare theorise and retell the event, his glaring eyes would soon end their drabble.

It was a constant reminder of his failure to save his mother. A forever torment that would suppress his nightfall fantasies with his beloved and smother him with guilt.

To this, he refused to give in to his pain. This agony he held within was expelled through his training, his determination and zeal. He was driven by the notion of destroying the Blight and bringing justice to his mother and the lives of his people.

Now at age, his determination had met its zenith.

"What an honour you bestow upon me to view such a monument of recognition," came the hushed voice within the wind.

Residing against the marble pedestal holding the silver sculpture of his mother, Sonar slowly lifted his head to witness the translucent figure entwined in the wind. The currents sweeping around her discreet body carried the sweet hannukka petals that wavered their aroma to his wanting nostrils. He took in the scent, deeply and savouring.

Content by her honeyed fragrance, the jora vein rose from the step and took to her side. Their position being in broad daylight, he held himself back from making physical contact. How strenuous such an obligation turned out to be.

"I often question what her mind would think; how we have fallen. How far we have come from that downfall." He stared out beyond the distance of the Gombe River, his eyes brimming with the shine of the glistening water under the summer's rays.

"I'm sure pride finds her well. For Ura Mendesa's ärvu proves to be perennial."

The heat of the wind gave her affection away. Instinctive were the curling corners of his lips, his own body heat rising to the beet flush of his cheeks.

"I could not be detailed as perennial if not for your loyalty. I owe you my life, ni aioté..."

Deeper his blush blossomed. His words held more truth than he would admit to anyone. Wrangled with grief, his own life wallowed within the balance. He found himself lost; his age lessening to that of an infant. The world now much bigger without the security his mother lovingly pledged. Without her love, her guidance, his confidence and conviction were compromised. Broken.

Though a stature of idolisation and revere could not display such strong emotions of anguish before his people. While he and his father had no doubt fallen, they were in no position to show weakness. Their own sorrow disregarded, they carried the weight of their people, for Mendesa would not succumb to defeat.

In the dark of night, in the touch of the light breeze, the caller relinquished the agony that tore away at his heart and replenished the lacerated organ with her delicate nurturing.

Just how much more could he possibly fall for the wind? She would surely demonstrate more tactics to make it possible.

He paused, mustering the courage to become so bold with his request. "Beyond the wind and our dreams, I wish to demonstrate my gratitude."

Her breath slipped from her lips. A gasp so delicate, he merely picked up on it. Turning to her hidden form, he was astonished to see the petals flutter in disarray, their scent intensifying in her disheveled state.

"Careful with such words, Toa. Such brazen talk can cause a woman to lose her demure nature."

"Heh," he chuckled. Closing his eyes, he wondered through his memories with his beloved. "I do not recall such a time you have shown a modest nature."

Feeling the sensation of a hand pressing against his broadened chest, he opened his eyes, only to be captured in a enchantment that were her sparkling, jade eyes appearing through the wind.

"Only in the eyes of many, I hold my desires for you. Come nightfall, my longing becomes torturous." She inched forward, the taste of nectar fruits binding on her tongue. "Under the sun's light, do you wish to unleash that desire?"

"Tsk-" He breathed, short and sharp. Nerves woven in his stomach proceeding to knot at her seduction. They pulled tightly as her warm, velvet touch traced down his hard torso. Naturally responding to her tenderness, his muscles contracted and softened simultaneously.

He yielded.

"Come," The warrior commanded the wind.

Acquiescent to his every whim, the whisperer hovered behind his shoulder, allowing him to lure her deep into the forest.

Under the thick, draping branches of the willow tree, a large, callus hand pulled her forward, spinning her for her back to hit the tree trunk. A surprised gasp expelled from her agape lips, only to disperse into the air as his lips collided with hers.

His kiss was the exemplar of the man he was. Strong, coarse by nature, but had experience with ginger affection. A gifted leader, he took control of their contorting lips, his hands adamant and confident in roaming across her ethereal body.

However this time he was frustrated. More aggressive with his passion and without conscious thought, he fondled her hidden exposure, vented in a sensual admiration.

He groaned against her. The gap he had previously bridged with his wandering hands had been firmly sealed with his larger form against her. Caged between the strapping male and the sturdy trunk, she cared very little to the crushing weight pushing her against the tough bark. To be confined in his arms, receiving his intimate attention left her immune to the rough texture piercing her back.

"Sonar..." She escaped his smothering kiss to release an overwhelming moan. Her arms gripping his shoulders had vice locked around him upon feeling his warm breath move down her face and into the crevice of her neck. Sweeter in his approach, her placed whispering kisses against her neck, squeezing his lock around her waist as her back arched and pushed into him.

His ears softened to the subconscious, breathless moans she exclaimed to his love. Welcoming every gentle note that left her lips, he was encouraged to bring forth more enraptured sounds. He brought his bare hands around to her flat stomach, dragging his fingers delicately against her smaller, toned muscles. They slowed their travel once reaching her ribcage, at first hesitant and uncertain of his own control. Yet as he felt the colder breeze slip against their heat, informing him of her hazy head tipping backwards against the tree, he moved his fingers to his longing destination.

"Sona-!"

"Roha."

He growled, retracting his hands from her breasts. Moving his head to nuzzle against her scorching cheek, he sighed, breathing away the heavy tension from his abdomen and closing his eyes in hopes to ease his intensity.

"This, I cannot endure," he muttered a curse. "I must find you. No matter the distance, I have to end this detachment."

Beyond his vision, the whisperer furrowed her brows, bemused by his innocence to her whereabouts. How many times had she given him her location? After many years of hindrance, she had assumed he was bound by duty to his father that kept them apart.

Now she was not so sure. "You know where to find me," she said.

His response reciprocated her own reaction. Confusion, if only for a moment. "I'll find a way to leave this forest. Even if I have to follow your scent in the wind, I'll come find you."

Her features relaxed. Of course. Sonar was a man of duty. While a lover of liberty neither he or herself could deny, his chained obligation to his role as the jora vein kept him tied to Kaba Forest.

The fearsome leader would not possibly allow his only child, his only family, out in the world. Especially with the growing variants within the Blight.

Perhaps if she were to shorten the distance...

Placing a sweet kiss to his lips, the whisperer pulled away and displayed her determined glow. "Fudamem, ni aioté. Elad mae a-" (Well, my love. Meet me at-)

"O-oré," he stammered upon seeing the currents around her begin to fade. "A-"

"I knew you had a thing for the wind. But for trees too?"

Ears pricking to the silvery, masculine voice surfacing a few feet from where he stood, the ruler's heir expressed his irritation through a guttural growl. His head hanging low at his loss, Sonar sluggishly turned back to his best friend, raising his scornful eyes towards the adolescent fox.

Unaware of what he could have possibly interrupted, the virtuous ranger shrugged back to the blue hedgehog. "What?"


Nestled deep in the underground civilisation were the Jolaf Mines. Discovered during the development of their new home, the mines consisted of coal, iron ore, and further into its path; silver. Its minerals becoming a lucrative trade to many outside tribes, it had also been beneficial in evolving their way of life; the production of silver jewellery among the civilians, improved weaponry and armour, and better structures for their homes.

Before the entrance to Jolaf Mines, the forge was stationed. Used by many of the workers, it was also used by the jora vein to enhance his equipment. He often excused his excessive use for upgrades when infact, it was an effective way to overcome his tension.

Slamming down the bulky mallet onto the magma encrusted metal rod, Sonar shaped the flexible mineral into a handle. The glow of the raging forge had long caused the dripping sweat to gather around his face and torso. His fur blackened by the sweltering heat and the smears of coal he had wiped into his coat, he worked himself through the suffocating temperatures, allowing the onerous labour to distract him from his fanatical thoughts of his lover.

"Ugh, how do you find pleasure in such a duty?" Tokala groaned, wiping the building sweat from his brow. "The fires elicit such turmoil."

Sonar chuckled, smirking towards the lollygagging male. Perched leisurely on the surface of a boulder, the young boy yawned nonchalantly, staring back at the blue hedgehog with little interest.

"A fine craft is a valuable skill," Sonar said, returning to his work.

"Ah, alu. That I cannot challenge." He hopped off the Boulder and observed the embers dancing ferociously. "The air beneath the earth is already smouldering. To be wrapped up in light's fury makes it all the more insufferable."

The elder rolled his eyes to the boy's grumbling, smiling whimsically nevertheless. Through their hardships, the ever reliable kaaron kané barely breathed a complaint. His maturing features deeply scowled, he and his men would venture the land to collect as many resources they could find on behalf of the Mendesa tribe. Come rain, storm, or blizzard winds, the rangers returned with vital aid.

But to be confined under the terrain, near a blazing forge had this young man muttering complaints like a well kept child.

His curious eyes still at play, Tokala fiddled with various tongs scattered on the workbench. "So, uh, what were you doing deep within the forest?"

Sonar instantly picked up on the playful tone of voice. A menacing smirk could easily be felt tickling the truth out from the tips of his back quills. His own body, being more honest than he wanted to convey, brought a light blush to his cheeks. His ears burned with humiliation.

"Am I prohibited from viewing the land I will govern?" He kept his back to the young fox.

"Ah, so surveillance keeps you from Gawande..." Tokala's lips stretched with mischief. "Does the Jora Vein's duties also require talking to the bark of the willow?"

He flinched, his arm stuck in mid strike. With widened eyes, he turned to the boy that now lingered at his side. His blush deepened at the embarrassment that he felt from the bold child's confrontation.

"The wind maiden makes another visit?" He dared to tease.

Features portraying the truth, Sonar made no effort to continue to his facade. "How much were you exposed to?"

Satisfied with his mischief, Tokala stood straight and scratched the back of his head, pondering to himself. "Daukram, Jora Vein. My eyes and ears remain untainted."

"Ah," the blue hedgehog sighed in relief.

"Well, some infliction occurred..." The fox smiled sheepishly to the heir's quills raising. "I-I had been leading a hunt when I heard you growl your wrath. On arrival, I was met with the Jora Vein bearing little distance to a willow tree."

Satisfied to hear his friend's timing had protected his innocence, Sonar's shoulders drooped heavily from the ease of tension. Though wary of his friend's curious eyes, he chose to return to the tempered metal before him to distract himself.

"... At what cause were you so irked?" The fox inquired, leaning over to catch a glimpse of the male's expression.

The jora vein bit his tongue, pushing the flesh harshly against the corners of his cheek. His focus still strong on the weapon's handle, he tightened his grip around the mallet and drove more force into his blows.

"... I seek to follow the winds to the goddess," he spoke with certainty.

Struck by bewilderment, Tokala gawped without motion. From a gasp of air, he was assured of his mortality. "You fool me, Sonar."

"I do not speak without true intent, Kala."

"Y-yo-" -Tokala inhaled.- "you wish to leave Kaba Forest, unaware of whether the information you have on the wind maiden is true or otherwise?"

"Alu," Sonar nodded, expressing no particular emotion to the boy's disbelief.

Releasing an exasperated groan, Tokala rubbed his temples, already experiencing the stress that came with dealing with his best friend's antics. "You are aware of what we endure passed sunset right?" Tutting at the ludicrous idea, he persisted to warn the heir of Mendesa.

"The Blight have increased in numbers, Sonar. More variants have been unearthed. We are unguarded-"

"I am aware..."

"You are still not certain of her location! What if she is not Amarythe o Nagi? What if the wind maiden is, in truth, the power of a Sakweh or a Sireth?"

Piqued by the ranger's incessant questioning, he silenced the boy with the harsh blow against the metal. The vibrating clangs whistled through the stony chambers, ripening at the ear.

"My decision has been chosen. I plan to find her; with or without your assistance," Sonar insisted, piercing the boy with a daggering gaze.

Sensing he had offended the blue boy with his accusation against the goddess, Tokala clamped his mouth shut and bowed his head before the sovereign. "Ahora, ni Jora Vein. I only speak with concern. If the wind maiden is in Visyn, the journey should take a new moon-"

"I'll take Bronx with me," Sonar interjected in an adamant nature.

A shudder quaked through the young boy's teeth. Bronx, the tamed Verdken and loyal companion to the jora vein. Discovered on one of the ranger's scavenges, the puppy had identified the fox and his men as his prey and gave chase. After running from the verdken, the fox found himself cornered and transfixed in fear. Had it not been for the nimble footing of the jora vein, Tokala knew his time would have been in a wrestling grip with the youthful beast, the heir of Mendesa had claimed victory. With his victory, he had won the respect of the predator and from that moment on, had integrated the beast as a guardian of Mendesa's people.

His permanent stay had not been greatly appreciated by the kaaron kané. A sizeable, bulky dog with the fearsome facial features of a dragon. It's rugged, dirt brown coat covered the iron thick, dusk scales that cloaked him. Intimidating, sun-blessed eyes that shamed the gold's glisten and silver shine of the moon touching his razor horns and talons, Tokala held a deeply nestled phobia to the beast. Given the verdken's close bond with his best friend, he had yet to reveal such a secret.

"As suitable as Bronx would be for such a voyage, he is vital for the protection against the Blight," Tokala argued, still rather unsettled to think of the brute.

Sonar pouted away from the fox. As stubborn as he was fearless, he rejected the ranger's argument and held his resolution.

"I intend to go. I offer you a placement on my journey, take it or leave it," Sonar muttered, his lips burdened with his sulking attitude.

The fox sighed and continued to massaged his tense temples. "And what tale do you wish to bring to the Jora to explain your absence?" he asked irritably.

Having been so adamant in his choice to leave Kaba Forest, the heir had not accumulated a fabricated story to explain to his father. It was clear to both boys that the jora would not allow his son, his only son and family, to be away from the tribe for any longer than sunset.

He huffed, scanning every type of excuse to embark upon such a voyage. Looking ahead aimlessly at the flickering embers, his absentminded viewing drifted back to the intricate work against the anvil. The cooling metal giving off a golden brown shimmer in the glowing light filled his eyes with inspiration.

"Heh," he snickered, tossing the handle in the air and capturing it in his smithing glove. "A thought comes to mind."


"You speak foolishness to me, Ärvu!" Julteniere snarled.

His profound footing recoiling against the wooden floors of Rigvian Halls, the jora paced back and forth with his hands sealed tightly behind his back. Energised by his son's preposterous proposition, the ruler's fears powered his temper.

It was not a secret to anybody how protective Julteniere was over his son. Even when he was occupied with his duties, he made sure to have a report from his guards regarding his child's whereabouts on an hourly basis. Failure to obtain this information would result in a summonce for the young sovereign, followed by a lecture on why he shouldn't be wandering too far into the forest.

The reason for his overbearing nature could only be considered natural to those who witnessed the tragedy the night of the storm. Being too late to save his beloved wife, he would not allow the same circumstances to become of his only child.

Bowing his head down out of respect, Sonar persisted. "Amahan, I implore you to offer your consideration-"

"You will not leave this forest! I forbid it!"

"You know not my reasoning," the younger hedgehog claimed. "Our bonds with Tyne dwindle. Zan shurai tur mawira var relim-" (Over Five summers we lose our chance)

"Yunkai..." (Enough...)

"-To impress hal Ura o Tyne, I require jewels for my offering."

Julteniere paused, his back turned from his child. He pondered the situation thoroughly. His son spoke of the courting tradition practiced among the sehir tribes; Diratbal. Unprotected by the magic often used by the sakr tribes, the sehir were raised to defend themselves; women included.

As part of the courting ritual, a man was required to craft a weapon of his choice to his chosen mate. Should the woman accept his offering, she would become his wife and wield his weapon with pride to protect their family.

The status of the lady would determine the level of refinement. Jewels, detailing, goldwork. All would be vital to win the Lady of Tyne.

He sighed, running his hand through his spiked spines. His son provided a winning argument, one he could only regret had been brought to his attention.

"Sonar..." he began, grief weighing down his voice, "the dangers beyond Kaba Forest remain undetermined. To venture out, we cannot guarantee your survival."

"I am aware, Amahan. Yet I wish to take this expedition to strengthen our bonds with Tyne. With our tribes as one, we stand more chance against the Blight and the growth of the Sakr." He kneeled before the Jora, his head low.

The elder stared down at his child, a distasteful blend of pride and fear tugging at his heart. His son was proving himself to be a magnificent young man with the strength and spirit a Jora required. However at the youthful age of nineteen, his determination and strive came with the potential to lead the youthful man to an early demise.

His child was proving to hold more power in this situation than he could withstand. Being his only son, he carried the future of their people and the responsibility that came with his birthright. Because of this responsibility, this travel would be vital.

Julteniere grimaced, his eyes lidded over out of exasperation. "Rise."

On demand, Sonar rose to his feet. He observed his father's features, eager for his approval. Sour faced with burdened brows, he could not decipher whether his father was inflicted by his proposal or slowly giving in.

"From where do you intend to extract these jewels?" the jora questioned.

Insufficient with geographical logic, Sonar kept his head lowered to hide his gulping. "I-I aspire for the northern mountains..."

Detecting his son's hesitation, Julteniere's eyebrow raised. "State a location."

A gap in his response was necessary to ponder the various mountains. Renown for such treasures were Morinlin Peaks. These mountains were grounded in the furthest north of the continent; in Reoth. Advantageous he would be to pass through Visyn to get to these jewel embellished pinnacles, the voyage to the far reaching north would surely be arduous on their compact warriors.

Lesser in gems yet bountiful in gold ore, Falladon Hills were the closest mountains out of Kaba Forest. Bridged between Mallo and Esiss, the journey promised less resources from their tribe. The expedition also carried the potential to harvest the valuable currency and gather enough for his offering, and trade the remains for the gems he required.

Should he part from his people, he could hire the help of mercenaries to guide him to Visyn. From there, he would trade with the sakr, and find his distant lover.

He raised his head with enforced confidence. "Falladon Hills."

"You are aware the jewels found in Falladon Hills are scarce?"

"Alu. With the gold I shall harvest, I will reserve a sum for my offering to Indira and trade the excess for gems."

"You have surely thought this through, Ärvu..." Julteniere muttered somewhat bitterly. Letting out a laboured sigh, he gave in to his son's wishes. "Very well. We shall see to the arrangements for your travels, Sonar. Until then, training will be intensified."

A sudden pang of guilt stabbed his blameworthy heart at the thought of encumbering his men and women for his desires. Nevertheless, with his freedom out of the forest now granted, he vowed to see his objective through.

"Yes, Amahan." Nodded the jora vein, lowering his head once more out of respect.

"... Sonar?"

The young hedgehog raised his head back to his father, curiosity grown by the ruler's concerned voice lingering in his eyes.

No sooner had his eyes rested upon the jora, Sonar found himself wrapped up in his parent's arms. Bearing strength that could bring his ribcage to crack, he held his son dearly as though it was the very last time.

"Stay vigilant and-" -he breathed sharply- "return to me."

Ache spilled into the voice of the redoubtable man. Harnessing the strength from his child, he strengthened his arms around his shoulders. Feeling the agony that excreted from him, Sonar reciprocated his hold, providing the unspoken plea for comfort.

By Shaltier, he vowed to come home. "Without fail, Amahan." he said adamantly, squeezing a little tighter than before.


The sun rose over many days, inviting a new moon to be bestowed onto the people. Each passing day earning progression throughout the Mendesa tribe, Sonar and his warriors were finally ready to leave the forest. Well trained, heavily skilled and given plenty of resources, their travels were graced with good fortune.

Stood ready for the expedition, the strong herd of chargers were spaced out within the faction. Attached to the wagons that would carry their supplies, they were to prove to be a good use on such a journey. Placing his hands into his iron gauntlets, Sonar readied his twin blades and joined Tokala and Acha at the head of the troops.

"Anaté, Jora Vein." Acha greeted the heir, placing her hand over her heart and bowing her head. "We stand ready to depart."

Sonar nodded in response. "Anak kana, Acha. We head north at the order of the Jora."

Satisfied with his answer, the warrior bowed her head and walked towards the troops to spread the word. Momentarily watching the woman leave, Sonar sighed to the expectant gaze from the ranger.

"You may speak, Tokala..." Sonar held back an eye roll.

"I implore you to pay mind to the strain my muscles bear for your own desires."

"Eron, eron..." he said, patting the fox's back harshly and letting out a faint chuckle to see the boy leer back at him.

"You are a cruel Jora Vein." Tokala frowned, rolling his aching shoulders.

"I do intend to seek these riches for Indira." the blue boy endeavoured to give justification to his cause.

"Alu... All the while seeking the affection of another woman..."

Unpleased by his best friend's view of his character, Sonar sighed and wiped the stress off his brow. "I am aware your depiction of me is tainted from these circumstances..."

The fox placed a comforting hand on the jora vein's shoulder. "I will not conceal my distaste to your motives, Sonar. But I can see your struggle. A fight between responsibility and desire... It cannot be an easy duel."

Sonar smiled back to the compassion of his friend. With gratitude, he placed his hand on his friend's that resided on his shoulder.

Returning his smile, Tokala shortly lowered his head. "May the most burdensome guide your path."

The kind gesture slowly faded from the hedgehog's lips at the fox's comment. A demand rather than thoughtful guidance. The expectant look from the young boy confirming his expectancy, Sonar turned his head away from his friend and ended their communication with a firm nod.

Roar!

The boom of the howling verdken echoed throughout the forest like the clamour of thunder. Shaking the cores of the warriors, they all turned to the rushing beast, recoiling as it leapt through the air and onto the jora vein.

Belting out his amusement to see his trusted dog, Sonar joined in on the verdken's game and wrestled the mountainous beast, gripping his gaping jaw that hung dangerously close to his face.

"Bronx! Must I bathe your ears in the Gombe River? You must remain here and await my return."

His companion roared back at him, his razor teeth rattling from his indignant disapproval.

"You shall occupy my thoughts also, my friend." He smiled back at Bronx, moving his hand to his scraggy mane and brushing his fingers through the bristly strands. "I shall return soon."

Whimpering sorrowfully, the beast nuzzled the jora vein's cheek. Savouring the affection from his loyal pet, Sonar gingerly rubbed the back of Bronx's ear before ushering the verdken to let him up. Granting a final pet on the mighty dog's back, he watched the hound skulk back to the tribe and lay beside Kalima.

"I shall care for Bronx on your behalf, Jora Vein." The rabbit bowed her head to the heir.

"Anak kana, Kalima." Sonar nodded.

Tokala gulped, his heart pounding to witness the young girl snuggle against the fearsome verdken. How could she display no fear to such a brute? He shook his head at the harrowing thought of leaning against it's rugged fur and rough scales.

Stepping out from the gathered tribe, Julteniere marched before the troops and stood in front of his people. Stoic features instructed the tribe to stand tall without a mutter of a command. "Hal shura harrantra hes vedan lont, ni evadane. Shalto urculance er toas ube morrenes eron brins. Tsun esa, Shalto keim, anak dorither pedvenin." (The sun glistens this fine morn, my people. Shaltier blesses our warriors and guides their paths. In Shaltier we trust, you return safe).

There was power in his speech. A blessing that inspired the warriors and assured them of their travels. Heads high and weapons unsheathed, they banged their swords against their shields and chanted to their ruler.

Julteniere beared a prideful smile to his warriors before he turned to his son who approached him. He accepted the boy's formal greeting and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, displaying all his pride into his expression.

"Do me proud, Ärvu," he said.

Sonar smiled back at his father. "You have my word, Amahan."

"I have no doubt of that." The jora grinned. Releasing his child, he turned back to his men and gave the order to move out. "Val Mendesa!"

"Val Mendesa!"

Marching forth, the warriors headed down the main path through the forest and set course for the north. Seperated into divisions, Acha directed the strongest fighters at the back. Taking centre position, a promising leader by the name of Volka the Ox took command of the lesser equipt. The forefront of the expedition was controlled by the heir of Mendesa alongside Tokala who aided as his advisor for this particular objective.

At moderate speeds on foot and assisted chargers, the warriors took their first rest in the open lands at the opening of the forest. Having travelled six hours and taking considerable stops to replenish their steeds, they set to work on their camp before sundown.

Body bearing over the strategy table, Sonar bore a stern face at the wooden model that displayed their position. "We leave at the shura's awakening. We have little need for such delay," he informed the commanding officers.

"Our chargers are not used to long travels, Jora Vein," Volka leaned over the table and expressed his concern for their animals. "Their lives are rooted to the forest. They are chaste to such open winds."

An unconvinced scowled penetrated the ox. Even at the man's towering stature and intimidating adornment of their symbolic tattoos across his bulging arms and his elaborate nose ring, he still winced to the jora vein's glaring eyes. He was senior in age amongst his comrades, a mature age of twenty four. With grey, sleek fur and flame engulfed eyes, Volka portrayed the image of a fearsome warrior.

However his personality would claim otherwise. A gentle spirit at heart, his compassion was that of a double edged sword; his blessing and his curse.

"A-ahora, ni Jora Vein." He bowed his head to the commander.

"They are chargers, Volka. They do not seek comfort like that of a trained chena. End your assumptions of their desires. We head out at dawn, no stops, no delays."

Tokala picked up on the leader's intolerance. "Sonar..."

"The night shall linger and cast the Blight on our path. Rest now, our presence will cause quite a stir for-"

EEEEEERRRRRRRRROOOOOOOLLLLL!

"What was that?!" Acha snarled, drawing her battle axe.

A calamity of shrieks and and scampering feet followed the harrowing battle cry. The rattling of the earth rising disturbed their hearing along with an unfamiliar howl. An indescribable sound they couldn't recall. The sounds of slashing nails and clattering bones failing to reach their ears, the colour drained from their cheeks.

A new variant disgraced them.

"Hmph!" Sonar drew his blades and charged from the tent, the flaps of the entrance fluttering in his wake.

The sun had yet to set on the battlefield. Illuminating through the striking red and orange that accompanied the overshadowing purples and blues, the warrior briefly gazed at the sky, astonished by the nonsensical happenings, before jumping into the fight.

Ripping through the earth's surface, the ghoulish, gaunt hands pulled on the grass and dragged the undead from the ground. Their forms similar to the Ulhetr, the variant appeared more lanky. Gangling, shadowed limbs bent and hunch to unnatural angles and contorted freakishly at uncomprehended speed. Their hollow torsos shortened and holding no placement for a neck, their snarling, houndish faces, coated in a matted mane drenched in the blood of mobians left a narrow slit to allow clearance to their icy eyes.

Valour lighting his emerald globes, Sonar challenged the agile movements of the disfigured hounds and lacerated their ligaments without hesitation. Flailing limbs catapulted into the sky from his merciless attacks that could only beseech gazes of awe from his fellow warriors.

"Stay vigilant!" Sonar ordered. "hal shura does not make its rest and yet these creatures prosper-"

"Sonar, observe!" Acha cried, pointing towards the obscene events.

Whipping back to see what her hand gestured to, Sonar was astounded to witness the limbs crawl across the ground, back to the slowly rising abominations.

"Regeneration..." he muttered.

Overhead, Tokala drew back his arrow and shot a piercing blade through one of the resurrecting monsters, the velocity shattering it's jaw that hung down it's face. Appearing to be unaffected by the infliction, the creature grabbed its hanging jaw and crunched it back into place.

"There must be an origin to their power!" Tokala theorised. "Conserve as many arrows and energy as you can, we can't allow their abilities to drain us!"

"Uro, what is your will?!" Volka called out to the Jora Vein, drilling his sword into the heart of a variant.

EEEERRRROOOOLLLLL!

Materialising amidst the battle, the faded imagery of a colossal being engulf the skies. A feminine figure draped in black, flowing robes with arcane strolls lacing down the front stood meritous amongst the inferior creatures with a crooked, bone-constructed staff in hand. Presenting a symbol of a magical rune the sehir had never witnessed as a headress, the dark cloth that ran down her face was stitched into her pale skin, the black blood long stained her cheeks from the administration.

"Esaal..." Volka gasped.

"She bears magic!" Acha growled. "A Sakweh, I'm certain."

The magic user emerged into a physical form. Wielding her staff, she bellowed a harrowing shriek and casted a cloudburst of flames.

"Shields!" Sonar yelled, taking shelter beneath another warrior's barrier.

EEERRROOOLLLL!

At the call of the towering mage, the hounds charged at the fighters. Their claws tearing at the earth in their passing gave a glimpse to the power that lusted to mangle the flesh.

"The Sakr commands the beasts!" Tokala concluded.

Sonar peered up at the overseer. The theory now made resolute in his mind, he readied his blades and set target to take down the master behind the attack.

"Divert their course. I will battle the Sakweh."

"Alu, ni Jora Vein!" answered his troops.

His rush was that of a tornado without bounds. Movements only just capable to be captured by mobian eyes. Ruthless rage in every step, he tightened his grip around his blades, objective set on protecting his people from the spell user.

The creatures would aspire to reach him, but falter on their attempts to claw at him. He paid them no attention. Should the overseer fall, he had little need to see to the regenerators.

ROAR!

A resounding cry pounded at the entrance to his ears. Pausing from the irritation, Sonar grunted and drop one of his blades to shield his ear from further assault. Wrapped up in his recovery, he failed to notice a monster leaping towards him.

"Sonar!" Tokala alarmed the leader.

His warning coming seconds too late, the fox cried out to see the hound slash the jora vein's chest and left forearm. This attack opened a vulnerable opening for the creature to pin the heir of Mendesa to the ground.

"Sona-!"

AAAARRRRGGGHHHH!

Her screams soaked the hearts of the Mendesa at the sheer dread her cries invoked. All spectating eyes gazed up at the howling mage as her mirage figure vanished from the battlefield. Her cries fading into the air, the sounds of bones clattering to the floor soon followed. The men and women jumped to the scene. Life zapped from their bodies, they lead motionless on the ground, the bones deteriorating to ash moments later.

"H-how?" Acha questioned under her breath. More suspicious to magic than the rest, she burned the imagery into her mind. Her judgement over the ways of magic escalated.

"Sonar!" Tokala shook off the shock and rushed to the jora vein. Dropping down beside the fallen warrior, he could not deter his sight from the gaping wound.

"Nngh..." The blue hedgehog groaned, forcibly dragging himself onto his elbows.

Blood drizzled down his torso and painted the once rich grass beneath them. A tiny pool long gathered at his side, harbouring more of his life-force the more he would lay.

"I need assistance!" The foxed called to the warriors.

"Pay no mind, Kala," -Sonar covered his wince with a faint smile.- "this is but a scratch."

"A scrat-?" The boy shook his head. "You bleed like a trophy kill!" He looked over his shoulder to the approaching men and women and requested their assistance. "Fetch clean dressing and hannukka ointment."

Sonar forced himself to sit up, his concern set on his warriors more than himself. "Are they all well?"

"Only you have been made injured, Jora Vein," the young boy responded, looking around at the blackened field. "I would call your impairment miraculous if it were not for the change of events. The Sakr appeared to be afflicted by something?"

"Hm... whatever her affliction, we must give our gratitude to Shalto that we still breathe."

"For you, just barely. Come, let us bring you to your tent."

Bearing a feeble nod, Sonar allowed his troops to carry him to his tent. Lips pursed in thought, he held his head low and contemplated the wellbeing of his warriors.

They would surely not fall for his own personal desires.

o - o - o - o - o - o - o

"I free you from your obligation!"

Perplexity and bewilderment struck the many faces before him. Congregated around the fire, the warriors had been feasting on their dinner when the jora vein joined their merriment and had unintentionally extinguished their talk with his abrupt announcement.

"Biatu mai, ni Jora Vein?" A fighter spoke up.

The commander's feature twisted out of guilt. "By our own sight, our own hands, we have braced the magnitude of the Blight. Beyond the forest, these variants make the Ulhetr and Matalu comparable to the squirming nevant. The road further will bring many more challenges... so stand now if you wish to return home at dawn."

He was met with silence. A wordless commotion of glances and stares between the men and women expressing what they could not bring themselves to say. At the forefront of the bemused crowd, Acha and Tokala gawped at the jora vein, believing the loss of blood had a lasting side effect on him.

"Sonar..." Tokala breathed out. "you speak of the Blight and the dangers we face... Yet you wish you shorten our numbers?"

Sonar stepped towards the fox and spoke in a whisper. "I cannot allow you all to die at the hand of my desires."

His eyes focused on the blue boy, his brows furrowing harshly as he gripped onto his bow. "Then I shall die by the side of my friend. That will be the greatest honour."

"Ni, Jora Vein." Acha agreed, bowing her head before the heir.

"Ni Jora Vein."

To his surprise, his troops followed the actions of the strongest woman. Heads bowed and hands held before them, they gave their vow to stand by his side no matter the dangers.

"Heh," Sonar chuckled. "I cherish you all." He smiled with genuine gratitude before he dismissed their attention with his waving right hand. "Eat and rest. I will stand watch tonight."

"Jora Ve-"

Turning back to Acha, Sonar denied her protest. "Call it redemption, Acha. It will settle me."

Acha returned a glance of confusion. No explanation given to relinquish her curiosity, the jora vein left the warriors to their rest and took to the outer skirts of the camp. Placing his blades down on the blackened grass, he gazed up at the indigo heavens. The stars had yet to lighten the darkening sky. The new moon camouflaged and unseen in the growing density that shrouded them.

"Ni aioté..." Sonar whispered to the air. "My journey to you begins... but not without it's challenges. My people give me their vow, their lives, not knowing of my meaning, my motives... Say this journey will not be in vain. Tell me I shall find what I seek at the end."

The wind did not respond.

"Tiet, ni aiot- Amarythe."

A teasing scent of hannukka in the sweeping breeze drew him in. Not as potent as the usual intake, he questioned whether it was her or the ointment that numbed his pain and worked away at healing his wound.

He was left in wonder, for her presence did not reach him.


Shura's rise arrived with serene glow. Strands of diffused rays patting gently over the swaying blades that dusted away the ash of the sunset. The night found peace and quietude, a state of contentment through the otherwise fearful sundown.

It was disturbing. A disgruntling turn none of the warriors could have foreseen. The Blight appeared before the sun could set and were annihiliated by an unspecified tactic. Now at dawn, the warriors had awoken, unharmed by the renowned night-crawlers.

Was this a new method of attack?

"Rrgh," Sonar grunted, placing a barrel of food supplies onto the back of a carriage.

Whatever the cause for the change in pattern, they had little time to sit and ponder.

"We head out now."

"Alu, Jora Vein!"

o - o - o - o - o - o - o

Their path lead them through dense woodlands abundant with broad, pillar-like trees festering in thick moss. Huddled together in tight proximity, the heavy foliage shunned the sunlight. Dappling at every opportunity through the bunching leaves, the rays of light were sparce, barely bleeding enough luminescence to direct their way. The air reeked with the smell of damp manifesting from the dewy mist settling on the underbrush. The chilling vapours speckled their bodies. An eery sensation in such an ominous surrounding.

"I sense misfortune in these woods." Acha looked around at the gloom.

"Perhaps there is another passage we can venture?" enquired one of the soldiers.

Taking the lead, Sonar guided a charger by the grasp of it's headcollar. "Falladon Hills resides fourteen days north of our position, requiring our courage and perseverance to make it there in such a time. If any of you feel these attributes are not with you, turn back now."

The impassive words from their commander stopped any further complaints from the troops. Already stating his intolerance to their frequent stops, the jora vein had their efforts increased. They were now ahead of schedule and he had no intentions of lessening the reigns for their uncertainties.

Treading through the hazy woods, they endeavoured to make as little noise as possible. While safe from the Blight in the shura's presence, they remained alert to any wild animals they could encounter in such dense forestation.

Snag.

"Hold your positions." Sonar raised his right hand, signalling his people to cease their movement.

Ears pricked and spiralling in every direction, the jora vein held their position, listening intently to foreign sounds. His hearing detecting every noise for up to a three mile radius, he captured every miniscule step and cry of the most unwary critters living in the trees.

"Huuur..."

His hands shot for his twin blades across his back. The first jab of adrenalin pierced his heart at the familiar growl. His ears deceived him surely. They hadn't possibly detected such an opponent under the light of the sun.

The Blight was active under the shura's glory?

"Ready yourselves," Sonar ordered.

Drawing their swords and shields, the soldiers braced themselves for the enemy.

A draping, black fabric teased the corner of his emerald eye. Needle thin pupils rotating to the clothing, Sonar growled to see the female figure from the night before step out from behind a tree.

"The Sakweh," he spoke through his grinding teeth.

EEERRROOOLLL!

The ground quaked beneath their feet at the ressurection of her minions. Circling their mistress, the hounds they had battled at nightfall rose from the mossy ground. They unified their howls of war before they would charge for the Mendesa tribe.

"Give heart!" Sonar declared, rushing into battle.

Roaring their might, the warriors followed their jora vein and took to the onslaught. The wrath of pummeling boots and disfigured claws pounding at the loamy soil competed with the clash of talons booming against metal shields. Grunts versus howls, hacking and the spurt of red and black blood consumed the pungent air.

"Leave the Sakweh to me!" Called the jora vein.

"We still have no knowledge on it's weakness!" Tokala cried, releasing an arrow into the skull of the enemy.

"More reason to fall back and leave her to me," Sonar responded adamantly.

Trauma had a way with imprinting techniques for adaptation, to prevent former traumas from reoccurring. For Sonar, that adaptation involved rushing straight into battle to shield those he cared for most. He could become impulsive, irrational and highly defensive with little disregard for his own wellbeing. If he were to get injured on behalf of his people, he was content with the results.

He lunged forth towards the sorceress, slashing his twin blades at ineffable speeds. He was incessant, driven by the love he held for his friends, his people. They were his priority, his duty. They were his responsibility to protect, just as his mother had been.

Like the night before, the magician's body was but a mirage. His savage swings swiping through her and leaving no effect. This angered the hedgehog further. Immune to his attacks, he would fail to protect his people.

"Rrrraaagh!" He growled, ceaseless with his assault.

The feminine monster smiled back at him. An affection smile, gratitude insinuated. Her hand rose before him, a dark aura manifesting around it. The aura radiated above him, drawing the darkness out of him and transferring his emotion into her staff.

"Sonar..." Tokala breathed out in horror to the magic he had witnessed. "S-Sonar, calm yourself! She feeds off your fury!"

In a haste, the enemy drew her staff towards the flying fox and shot the channelled wrath into a dark spell. A black, majestic sphere glowing wildly in malignancy hurled for the kaaron kané, blasting into his shoulder blade.

"Argh!"

"Tokala!" Sonar exclaimed. Aghast, he saw his friend take to the ground.

Intimidated by the use of magic, the chargers reared and cried out in fretful whinnies. They bolted in every direction, carts still attached.

"Watch out!" Volka sounded the alarm, knocking Acha out of the way.

The cantering chargers trampled all that stood in their way. A chaotic mingling of pelting hooves on pervious earth and the fading screams of the fallen warriors blaring over the whimpering from the hounds and the breaking of wagons and barrels.

"Kala!" Sonar yelled over the commotion.

His best friend was in a disadvantage in the midst of the fleeing chargers. Unable to move from the attack, he could only pray to Shaltier that he had survived.

Without his knowledge, his fears were sapped from his body and channelled into the sorceress's staff.

Their chargers out of sight, Sonar directed his attention to his friend. "Kala!" He raced to the boy's side.

A darkness lingered on his chest and travelled across to his arm. It was like a disease spreading across his body, tainting him, consuming him.

He was being taken by Blight.

"O-" he gasped. "Oré. Kala..." Not knowing what to do, he pulled the boy onto his legs and shook the boy in an endeavour to awake him. "Tokala. Umai... Tiet."

"Jora Vein!" Acha rolled towards her commander and held up her battle axe in defence.

The incoming attack from the sorceress stampeded the handle to the weapon and consequently snapped it in half like a twig. Her shock and mourn to her decimated axe left her subconscious to the magic wielder.

"Acha-"

His hand reached out to cloak her from the malignant orb but her magic had been too quick. It scorned through the woman's breastplate and into her chest. Jolting at the undoubtable power, Acha dropped back. Her deep blue eyes glazed over, wide yet blank.

"You'll pay for that, Sakr scum!" Volka roared, running for the sakweh.

"Volk, don't!" Sonar shrieked.

She teased him with her tactics, mocking him with her immense power over their lives. At the snap of her hand, the grunge of the blight rose from the ground and engulfed him, stilling his movements into a battle charged statue.

Fixed beneathed his best friend's body, he watched helplessly as his men and women dropped to the floor. One by one, like ripened apples in the harvest season. The scent of their blood stung his nose. Their essence that drenched the mudding ground.

"O-ré... ikar..."

History played out before him. How everyone he loved, everything he cared for was ripped away from him and he could do nothing to prevent it.

But unlike the previous attacks, their blood bled directly into his hands. His desires had pulled them out of Kaba Forest, away from their families, their homes. He had created the deception that brought their demise. His people died for him. For reasons other than his duty.

"Rrrraaaaarrrrggghhhhh!"

Having placed the young fox beside him, Sonar gathered his blades and shot for the sakweh. Enraptured in his rage, he had been blinded to the blue glow emanating from his weapons. His indignant hostility severed through the sorceress and expelled bolts of lightning into her.

"Aaargh!" The sakweh wailed, contorting in response to the excruciating burn singeing through her.

He beared no mercy to his enemy. At a fleeting swipe, he gashed through her stomach, forcing her to her knees.

"MARU!" Bellowed the jora vein, leaping into the air with his blades powering up behind his head.

On the brink of death, the sakweh used all her will to grip onto her staff. Awaiting for her foe to land his mighty blow, the sorceress plunged her weapon into the chest of the blue hedgehog.

"Uck-" Sonar gasped, dropping his eyes to the bone structure that penetrated him.

His blood seeped down the long staff, dripping down onto the sakweh's hand. As if it were an ignition to flames, the magic wielder combusted before him. Her fate already accepted, she succumbed to her death in silence, disintegrating to ash.

The weapon no longer supported, Sonar fell to the ground. The twisted bones angled awkwardly in their descent, Sonar's lips quivered to the searing agony that mangled his organs. He took hold of the rod, breathing intensely as he slowly pulled the daggering affliction out.

"Nngh!" He grunted, squinting his eyes tightly.

Success, the staff dropped to the ground. It had not been extracted without consequence however. His organs crying out in streams of blood, Sonar toppled back, holding his chest as his life drained from him.

"Ama..." He breathed.

Panting, chest heaving, these actions began to slow down. Consciousness leaving him, Sonar looked up to the shrouding trees, spectating their soothing sway in the gentle breeze. A lulling wave from the forest.

"Amarythe..."

His head slumped to his left, eyes losing their ability over sight. His body gradually concluding its functions, a faint tread of dainty steps just made it to his mind.

"Toa."