Before notes:
This chapter is set about a week after the last.
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CHAPTER 8: THE LAND SET AFLAME
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Belinsk Castle
Sveta sat upon her throne, cloaked in a heavy fur robe that felt like it was suffocating her. But it wasn't the robe that was holding back her breath. She knew what was coming; her intelligence services had already told her. But foreseeing this moment didn't make her any more prepared.
She watched grimly as the wolf pup dashed toward her, down the corridor of her throne chamber. He shifted into a sprightly boy, and announced at the top of his lungs the tragedy that had occurred in the valley trade route leading to Port Rago.
"How could we have allowed this to happen?!" one advisor cried.
"The rebels are a cancer that we have let fester for too long!" shouted another.
"We must crush them, once and for all," bellowed another.
"Yes, we must pulverize them," said Fashty, Sveta's military advisor, with a relish in his voice that disturbed her. He turned to face her. "Do I have your permission, now, to commence with a military operation against the illegal human gangs?"
"Yes, you have my permission," Sveta said reluctantly, forcing every word out. She knew that it would be a disaster for her reputation if she hesitated even a second. "Please restore peace to this land."
But she didn't like it one bit.
"Do I have permission to use any necessary means?" asked Fashty.
"…Yes," Sveta said meekly, even submissively.
Sveta knew she was screwing everything up. If only she had paid attention when she was supposed to be learning all these things about statesmanship. I never thought my brother would die before producing his own heir, she despaired. And now look at me. Morgal is tormented by crisis after crisis while I sit here clueless. The worst thing was that she didn't have a clue. She had no idea when she was screwing up until the consequences arrived, so she feared that every decision she made would be a catastrophe.
If only I had advisors I could actually trust. Volechek, for all his faults, knew how to handle the advisors. Unlike Sveta, Volechek controlled his advisors, rather than the reverse. I was never meant to be a ruler, she lamented to herself.
As Fashty marched out with a coterie of guards, Sveta caught a sickening, wolfish smile spreading across his face. Sveta felt her throat lurch a bit.
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Small town on the road from Belinsk to Sahha, three days later
Fashty grinned as he looked upon the small town. He looked to his right to see Morgal's First Canine Division. He looked to his left to see the Elite Lupine Division.
As a pup, Fashty's favorite pastime had always been catching bugs, an activity he often did with friends. Eventually, as his peers grew out of the activity, he simply grew out of insects and moved on to larger prey. As a young adult, he had become an accomplished hunter, although others did note with dismay his apparent inability to resist mangling his catches after felling them. When the Morgal Rebellion broke out against the hated occupation by Sana, he excitedly enlisted with the rebels. Ever since then, his prey had been humans.
Due to his prowess in both combat and tactics, Fashty quickly rose through the ranks of the Morgallian forces. During the wars, first with Sana and then Bilibin, Fashty had a legitimate reason to sate his hunger for the hunt with the slaughter of human villagers. It was commonly believed that the humans of Morgal, as much as they had disliked the Sanan occupation, were collaborating with Sanan army in the later stages of the war, largely due to their distrust of the rebels, who were predominantly beastmen. Every now and then, Fashty was left with long periods without combat, and he grew restless. As a result, a couple of human villages in strategic locations just happened to "disappear from the map" (in reality, they were ravaged by Fashty and his personal unit). The other rebel leaders had been distraught by his activities, which they feared would undermine their moral legitimacy. However, they never obstructed him. Fashty reckoned the reason they never interfered was both because he was too effective a general to be replaced, and because they knew deep in their hearts that it was actually helping them win the war.
Fashty smiled. After the wars with Sana and then Bilibin died down, he was left with no good reason to continue his hunting, and he knew he could get himself into quite a serious mess if he did. This meant that he had to deny himself for years. It was horrible.
But now, war had finally returned. He could barely contain his joy. He would now finally indulge a hunger that had accumulated over nearly a decade. He would finally quench his thirst for the sweetest drink to ever grace his tongue: human blood.
"Rejoice, my dogs! Dash forth! It is time to FEAST!" Fashty called. He then proceeded to shift into beast-form, as did his subordinates, before charging into the defenseless, peaceful village.
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Small town on the road from Belinsk to Sahha Town, two days later
Karis stared out the front of the wagon at the flat plains that lay ahead, further along the road.
"Atkunom," she called to the driver, "didn't you say your home village was somewhere around here?" She was fairly eager to finally rest in an actual house for a night; it had been quite difficult to sleep in the bumpy wagon.
"Yes, I did… I know this route very well. I've traveled it my whole life," said Atkunom irritably.
Karis held her tongue. She thought back to earlier that day, when they had heard tales from other travelers passing by about a beastman caravan that was massacred. Is Atkunom afraid the same could happen to his own hometown? Karis kept staring at the empty road, but no village appeared on the horizon.
"The village should be just ahead of us," Atkunom added grimly. Karis saw beads of sweat on his neck. She climbed back into the carriage.
After a time, Atkunom suddenly stopped his oxen. Karis and Tyrell gingerly climbed out, and a network of large, rectangular piles of ashes greeted them. These mounds were probably all that remained of the wooden houses that made up the village, Karis figured. There were a couple partially charred planks of wood lying around too, as well as stones and various odd items that had survived whatever blaze had occurred. There was no sign of corpses, however.
"This place must have been burned days ago," Karis noted. She looked over at Atkunom, but his face was as pale as chalk as he stared silently. They all stared for another few minutes.
"So, these rebel scumbags decided to smite their own brethren," breathed Atkunom. His voice was cold with acrimony, filled with a great but silent rage. "I hope the army comes and slaughters them all," he spat.
Karis thought Atkunom was blaming the human rebels too hastily, but she held her tongue in respect for his grief.
Tyrell opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it abruptly. Karis thanked him silently. Tyrell clenched his fists, and wore a troubled expression as he glanced at Atkunom and then back at the ruins.
"There are things I must do," stated Atkunom. "Karis, Tyrell, I'm sorry, but I must terminate the contract we made. I need to search for my family if they're still alive, and if they're gone, I must give them a proper funeral."
"We understand," replied Karis.
"I'll reimburse part of the money you gave me, since I didn't complete the whole trip," said Atkunom lifelessly.
"No, no, don't. We don't need it," Karis replied.
"No, I must. Otherwise I will have broken my promise to my client," insisted Atkunom.
"We don't want it back," grunted Tyrell. "Keep it."
"It serves our desires better that way," added Karis. "You wouldn't want to go against your client's desires, would you?"
"Fair enough, " sighed Atkunom. "Well, then, farewell. I hope the rest of your journey is safe."
"We hope all will be well for you too," Karis replied sadly.
"Thank you… to get to Sahha, just keep following the road here. It should be a few days' walk from here."
Karis and Tyrell gathered their belongings and then said their farewells before heading off.
After they had walked for some time, Karis turned to Tyrell and asked what had been on his mind earlier.
"Well…" Tyrell started. "I didn't like it. Something felt wrong."
He's always had a sharp intuition, Karis thought.
"Then," Tyrell continued, "I looked around and I saw scattered paw-prints everywhere. Beastmen had been there. A whole horde."
His words hit Karis like a wall. She and Atkunom had been so astonished by the sight of the ruins, they hadn't even noticed the tracks.
"But only humans lived in the village," she said. Why would there be tracks? Then, she gasped as she realized the implication.
"Yeah, that's what I figured," Tyrell grunted, staring gravely at her as she digested the implications.
"This time, the beastmen were the killers," Karis observed grimly.
Although one would never suspect it at first, Tyrell did have a sharp mind. If only he would stop to use it, before he acts.
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Tuaparang Airship
Myalkni stared miserably out the window, as the pain of truth besieged him. He wished he could escape, but his mind was just as imprisoned as his body was. His chest felt so hollow it could collapse, while his throat could explode with all the dread he held. All he could do was take note of the facts, which always proceeded to crush him, time and time again. There was no hope, no reprieve and no silver lining. There was only dread, misery, and worst of all, the truth.
"Hello, my son," he heard Arcanus call.
"Hello, milord," Myalkni saluted, surrendering yet again.
"That's all I am to you?" Arcanus asked.
"It is good to see you, my lord father," Myalkni sighed. There was no such thing as surrendering enough. Submission had to be constantly renewed.
"I heard from Latakia about your success in your latest mission, and I came to congratulate you, my son."
"Thank you, my father," breathed Myalkni, rubbing his sore right shoulder. "You flatter me too much."
"Nonsense," said Arcanus with a proud grin. "You have participated in the making of history. I'm proud of you."
"I'm so glad that you're proud of me, father," Myalkni muttered as he remembered that night. He felt a vague nausea, which had become a rather common- yet still dreadful- feeling. One doesn't get used to misery; one merely grows familiar with it.
"Anyhow, I will be leaving soon. I have some business to take care of in Sahha," stated Arcanus. "I will miss you."
"I will miss you too, but I wish you the best of luck," Myalkni lied.
"Thank you. I will be helping move along the chain of events you yourself started," Arcanus said as he walked away. Myalkni's heart plunged deep into the swamp of dread.
-~:|~~|:-:|~~|:~-
Road to Sahha town, two days later
Tyrell's feet ached as he and Karis walked. He knew Sahha was getting closer, as the plains gave way to forest.
He knew things were getting messier and messier, and he grew steadily more uneasy as the forest progressively thickened around them. In the plains, he could see all their surroundings. As the forest grew thicker, his knowledge of his surroundings quickly diminished, as the view became shrouded in leaves and branches.
Tyrell wasn't particularly terrified of becoming something's prey. He had survived plenty of ambushes. What he feared was getting held back from rescuing Amiti because he and Karis had to lick their wounds after dealing with monsters, or worse, getting entangled in the bloody game the local humans and beastmen were having.
As the sun began to set and the sky darkened, Tyrell sensed Karis growing increasingly nervous as well. At first she tried to appear calm, but she kept "advising" him that they should go back and rest at the forest's entrance for the night. Of course, in Tyrell's mind, going backwards for any reason was preposterous. No, he replied each time, she could do what she wanted, but he was going to make it through the forest as fast as possible.
After a time, it seemed Karis felt the need to remind him of how she thought he was a complete idiot. Then she went on another one of her annoying rants about how she had to "babysit" him. She was saying about how all half the problems they had ever had were somehow his fault. Tyrell didn't really listen to what she said, as always. But she refused to stop, as if she thought she could pester him until he gave in. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore.
"Would you shut up already?" he shouted over his shoulder. "I said you could come only if you wouldn't be a control freak!"
"I never agreed to that," Karis shot back. "I came of my own free will, and you can't stop me."
"Well, you can go back to the entrance of your own darned free will, alone! I'm gonna make it through as fast as possible, and you won't stop me!" Tyrell roared at her.
"Don't be so loud!" Karis hissed. "Do you want the whole forest to know where we are?"
Tyrell sighed with exasperation, and walked slightly faster, hoping she might get tired of keeping up.
"I came to keep you out of trouble, and it's moronic to keep marching through this place in the dead of night without resting. If only Matthew was here, he could talk sense into you," Karis hissed again.
Tyrell whipped around. "Well then, GO BACK YOURSELF! I'm sick of you anyways!" he bellowed furiously. He had no idea what Matthew saw in her.
Karis opened her mouth to say something, but it never left her tongue.
"Fighting amongst yourselves, furless swines?" a grizzly voice said from behind Karis. Suddenly, she was seized by a furry limb.
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Tuaparang Airship
During his weeks in captivity, Myalkni had often fantasized about being rescued. At first, it was his only light of happiness, the only reprieve after his torture sessions with Latakia.
Myalkni knew it was unlikely, but he wanted most to be rescued by Tyrell and the other Warriors' children. If some Ayuthay noble rescued him, on the other hand, Myalkni figured he'd end up indebted to them, which he definitely wanted to avoid. Myalkni shuddered when he thought about the situation back in Ayuthay. His disappearance could only cause trouble. He was sure many of the nobles would be thrilled if he never showed his face back home again, and Myalkni didn't particularly want to see them either. Myalkni also dreaded the implications that any Ayuthayan attempt to rescue him would have. What if other countries decided to exploit Ayuthay's divisive political climate? What if nobles tried to sabotage the operation? What effect could it have upon his uncle's health?
Despite all these logical reasons, Myalkni knew deep down that the real reason he wanted his rescuers to be the Warriors' children was that he yearned to see them again, rather than return to the Ayuthay court. After all, even before Arcanus imprisoned him, he had been sad that his time with the Warriors' children had come to an end.
But now, the originally happy daydream had mutated into yet another form of pain. Now, for Myalkni, "hope" was a desperate longing, an ache, a cavity that needed to be filled, but couldn't.
Now, he was torn about being rescued by his friends. He had no reason to believe they even knew he was captured. And then, if they knew, they probably had other problems to deal with. And anyone would be reluctant to rush through a war zone to confront the Tuaparang and perhaps the strongest adept in Weyard just to save him. Additionally, the last time they had gone to rescue captives from the Tuaparang's clutches, they were tricked into setting off the Luna Tower, so anyone with a brain could smell a trap. No, Myalkni thought, saving me is too much to ask.
Myalkni figured that if they did attempt a rescue, they would probably end up dead or enslaved by Arcanus. But I'm selfish, Myalkni thought, hating himself; I want them to come anyways.
If it was one of them in my position, they wouldn't spend the whole time wishing people would sacrifice themselves to save them.
Myalkni hated himself.
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Forest to the west of Sahha
"You make any attempt to attack me, and the girl dies," the beastman warned Tyrell, as the latter drew his sword.
"Now, swine boy, drop your blade, or I will carry out my threat," commanded the assailant.
Tyrell felt a drop of sweat leave his scalp. He certainly wasn't going to actually lay down his blade. He didn't want to put Karis' life on the line, but he instinctively didn't want to cooperate either. Best to seize the element of surprise.
With the palm of his hand, he summoned forth a large fireball, and launched it at the beastman. The fireball narrowly missed them, just as Tyrell had intended. Karis' eyes bulged with disbelief. Tyrell then helped the whole tree to burst into flame, and it quickly disintegrated, leaving only a pile of ashes behind. The fire did not spread. One could not overstate the usefulness of Psynergy.
"Release her, or you roast!" bellowed Tyrell.
But the beastman didn't release Karis. He merely smiled, and tightened his grip on Karis. Karis was seized by a fit of coughs and gasps.
Oh crap, what do I do now, thought Tyrell frantically.
"You really think you're all that, don't you, human boy?" taunted the beastman in his grizzly voice, as he dropped Karis' limp body to the ground. "Brothers!" the beastman called. "Seize him!"
Beastman soldiers began materializing all around them, and they flung themselves upon Tyrell. Tyrell tried his best to fend them off, but there were simply too many, and it wasn't long before they overwhelmed him, engulfing him in a sea of fur and claws.
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Tuaparang Airship
Myalkni was staring wistfully out the window of the airship, as he often did, when he heard the sound of his chamber's door opening. He greeted Arcanus and Latakia as they entered, bracing himself for their latest report on "successful" they had been (together with him, dreadfully) at sewing death and destruction across Morgal.
And, true to form, Arcanus listed all the latest "successes," while Myalkni stared blankly past him, offering him limp congratulations every time he paused.
This all somehow related to the Tuaparang master plan to conquer all of Weyard, but Myalkni knew not how. Perhaps he would get a better idea of how it fit together if he actually listened to Arcanus for once, he figured. Although he knew that would probably be much wiser, he couldn't bring himself to pay attention. He couldn't bear anymore to hear it. And besides, Myalkni thought, how does it matter if I actually understand how their plans work? He didn't think it could change anything.
"Myalkni!" shouted Latakia. "You gotta respond when your father asks you a question!"
Myalkni's hand shot protectively to his shoulder, almost instinctively. Thankfully, it didn't explode with pain. He had been spared this time.
"I'm so sorry, lord father," apologized Myalkni. "I was… lost in thought."
"Well, it is not bad that you are considering our plans studiously," said Arcanus with a half-smile. "Anyhow, what can you tell me about the other water adept you travelled with? Rief was his name, correct?"
"Yes, that's Rief," affirmed Myalkni. He loathed handing information to Arcanus, but he really had no choice. "He's from Imil, and he's the son of Mia."
Arcanus broke into a triumphant grin that confounded Myalkni.
"Well, my son," Arcanus announced, "I have another mission. I will be gone for a week or two. Latakia, you know the plan. He is all yours, for now."
Arcanus then bypassed the usual ceremony of repetitive goodbyes and briskly walked out the door.
Why is it, Myalkni wondered anxiously, that Arcanus is interested in Rief suddenly?
-~:|~~|:-:|~~|:~-
Next Chapter: Lights in the Dark
Author's Notes:
1. Names:
Fashty- intended to sound both Russian and sound similar to "fascist".
Atkunom - from Yakut at-kunan, meaning steer. Yakut is the language of the Sakha Republic in Eastern Siberia which bears a name similarity to Sahha. Originally, Atkunom was going to be from Sahha.
2. As you probably know quite well by now… I love reviews .
3. There is a new poll on my profile page: this time, the question is about what you prefer for romance in this story. I'd reallllllly appreciate it if you answered the question, even if you choose the "Don't Care" option. Thanks . For lazies, here's the url: /u/1681403/Yalens# (attach that to the fanfiction-dot-net url that I can't post).
4. Just a little teaser for the next chapter, in case you're not interested in the cliffhanger: it's the last chapter with any Weyard politics, and both Nowell and Rief return to the plot.