The amount of finagling this chapter endured is positively astounding. At one point it was split into two parts. Then I decided I hated the first part and put it back together into one chapter. Cutting and pasting. Hours of work nullified. Finally I am satisfied.
We find that the Boggans aren't as united in their vision as it might have seemed at first. Not everyone is particularly enthused about everlasting conflict.
Chapter 15. Advent
Stormheart. That was the name they gave him at the end of his rites of adulthood—prophesied in smoke and flame and bone by the elders of Wrathwood—and Dagda had tried not to simmer in his dismay as everyone else congratulated him. His friends had clapped him on the shoulders, and Amianth had nearly tackled him with glee. His father's eyes glowed with pride but also a touch of sadness.
"Your mother should have been here," was all that he said.
In the end, it was Hortensia who took him aside, Amianth still jostling him about how they both had rite-names now and how she could teach him a thing or two about being a fully fledged warrior.
"Your mother would have liked the choice," the general assured Dagda. He must not have looked convinced, because she smiled and continued, eyes glittering. "Trust me, Dagda. Danu was my greatest friend. I knew her as well as your father did."
"Stormheart," he'd grumbled. "Hardly the name of a great warrior. Why couldn't they have given me something with Fire?" The rite-names always drew a piece from the rite-names of one's ancestral lineage, as well as a piece that was entirely one's own. "It makes me sound like I have no idea what I'm doing." Which he didn't, but he didn't want a rite-name that announced that fact to the world, especially not when Amianth had just gotten something as awesome sounding as Wingthief.
"Turmoil, confusion, uncertainty—that is what the elders saw in the smoke, yes. The name says that you might struggle in many things, in knowing what is right, in knowing who you are. But there is power in the Storm, Dagda, and compassion in the Heart—all things needed in a good future leader," Hortensia told him. "I will tell you what I know of your mother. The part of her that made her so loved by all was not prophesied in Fire."
"Still, I wish I had something cooler."
Hortensia had only smiled. "When the gales rush down the mountainside, not a leaf is left unturned. You have the power to turn the wind to your will. Storms, after all, do not only mean turmoil. Storms also symbolize change."
The Boggan who delivered the message of a peace offering from the Jinn all but threw the scroll at Mandrake before scurrying away to escape the potential crossfire of wrath that was about to be pitched in every direction. Dagda sat amongst the rest of the generals, all watching his father go through the contents of the document.
Mandrake put the scroll down, not a hint of emotion crossing his face, but Dagda knew better. He wanted to inch away, but a sense of pride held him in place. Ever since MK left, and planning for the Solstice began in earnest, he'd been allowed to sit in on the war meetings again. A routine had begun to settle in for him—that is, until he got a message out of the blue from the Neutral Territories that MK wanted to meet up with him and Amianth. The meeting had been anything but casual as he'd initially expected. And now the peace treaty had arrived, just as MK had told him, along with all the stakes that rode on it.
"They apologized," his father said in a flat tone. Murmurs of surprise and curiosity rose up from the generals. "For Danu." The statement sliced through the chatter, leaving a sharp-edged silence. The treaty had MK's meddling written all over it, and Dagda could see the exact same thought grinding in his father's mind.
"What are their terms?" Hortensia prompted.
"We let the new queen succeed." Mandrake pronounced each word with utmost care. "And we start the balance of power anew. They want to give us voice in our future. They wish to restart the relationship between Wrathwood and Brightwood on new footing."
The chatter started up again, hushed tones of excitement buried in its depths. But Dagda watched his father closely and noticed Hortensia doing the same. "What do you think?" Hortensia asked.
His father remained silent, staring down at the parchment, and Dagda could see the war happening in his eyes.
"This is good, isn't it? It's what we wanted," another general spoke up.
"That they will allow us to have a say in our own fate?" his father asked in a low voice, the undercurrent of venom chilling the air in the room. "And how much will they allow?"
"It reeks of desperation," someone else interjected. "They gave up on peace a long time ago, and now a week before the Solstice, they seek to mend things, just to save their skins. To me, it's a banner of vulnerability!"
Hortensia shot them a look of irritation. She turned back to Mandrake. "It's more than they've ever offered."
"Yet they still lack the nerve to give up their sovereignty of the forest," he said through clenched teeth.
Dagda toyed with the idea of saying something. MK had looked him in the eye and asked him if he was willing to do what he could to change his father's mind—to do what was best for his people. He almost hated her for putting him on the spot like that, but it was MK, and he couldn't hate her. She gave him that look, one of complete conviction.
"I'm asking you to be brave, Dagda. I'm asking you to do what you know is right in your heart."
In his heart. Dagda had no idea what was right in his heart. It was what no one else seemed to get, despite the fact that it was written all over his rite-name. The future the elders had seen in Stormheart was turning out to be annoyingly accurate as Dagda found himself further entrenched in the political intricacies of the war. MK had only ever complicated things. Dagda stayed silent and listened.
"Mandrake, this is a legitimate chance to start things over. Is continuing a war really in the best interest of the Boggans?" Hortensia asked in a low voice. The silence continued to radiate across the table. Mandrake narrowed his eyes at the general's challenge.
"You really think the Jinn deserve that chance? After all that they've done to us?" Mandrake hissed.
"But what about us?" one of the earlier generals finally spoke up. "We could prevent a lot of our own losses this way."
Mandrake drummed his fingers on the hilt of his staff, and the impacts made beads of the poison drip down and sear into the tabletop. "And what makes you think we can trust their word? Do you really think we will be able to have any more say in our lives if we allow them to win? They have shown us how much they hate us, from the very beginning. This invasion will be our only chance for the next several decades to truly shift the balance of power in our favor for the first time. But you would rather ride on the word of the Jinn?"
No one else dared argue, though Hortensia did not appear to have said everything she wanted. Mandrake tipped the staff forward, touching the Blight to the parchment of the treaty and watched it curdle and crumble until nothing but a smoldering pile of compost remained.
"Tell me about the state of your troops," he said finally, without bothering to look up. One by one, the generals began to provide their reports of how much of a force they would be able to muster for the Solstice. Mandrake, in turn, coordinated the locations and timings of the attacks, and the meeting turned to the usual state of affairs, much to Dagda's relief, and eventually they adjourned the meeting.
Dagda followed the others out of the room, but out of the corner of his eye, noticed that Hortensia lingered. He paused in the doorway, waiting for the others to leave, until the three of them were the only ones remaining.
"You know the fighting will never end with our victory," Hortensia said quietly. She glanced over, noticing that Dagda was still there. "Will we never know peace?"
"How did I know you weren't going to let this argument lie?" his father growled.
"I'm not trying to appeal to the leader of the Boggans anymore," said Hortensia. "Now I'm trying to appeal to you. Mandrake, how much of this is personal?" She stepped in his path. "Danu was my friend. She was practically family. Don't you think I want vengeance too? But this is bigger than just us! What about Dagda? What about my niece? Do you want the fighting to continue on and on so that our children never know a day of peace?"
The adults turned to Dagda, both looking at him as though expecting him to chime in with his own input. Dagda's eyes widened, and he resisted the urge to glance behind him where Amianth normally would be. He stood before them alone.
"I…" he began. Dagda remembered everything he had shared with Amianth when they were out in the deep forest, where it didn't feel like so much hung in the balance. He remembered what he confided in MK in the nights they stayed up late talking. "I kind of wish we didn't have to fight so much," he said quietly.
"Even you're against me," his father muttered, and it felt like a knife in the gut. Dagda wished he'd left with the others. "Are these even your ideas, or are they MK's?"
"N-no, Dad, I—"
"An outsider could never understand. This war isn't something we can simply stop. It is rooted in years upon years of being stepped on, and the only way the Jinn will ever even begin to comprehend what it means to be in our place is if they live it themselves. Teach them to understand our struggle, and then maybe you can have your talks about peace and kindness, because perhaps they will finally be ready to listen. If we followed the treaty and accepted the peace, only to have our trust betrayed again, then we will have nothing left for another several generations. So no, I will not back out of this invasion. This is the best chance we have." Mandrake stared at the two of them, as though daring them to continue the conversation, before pivoting and striding out the door.
Dagda bit his lip, staring at the ground. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Hortensia wearing a mask of grim resignation. She shook her head and followed her leader out the door. Dagda's breaths rattled. Either way he went, he would have been a disappointment—to MK or his dad. Now he could conveniently be a disappointment to both.
In the view of the webcam, MK's dad adjusted his glasses as he shuffled through his notes scattered on the desk. "I've read about the Full Moon Solstice. Granted, not under that title specifically, but if there's one bonus to Oak Bridge being enthusiastic about its local legends, it means they keep a fairly good record of the extraordinary—if you know where to look." He rapped his finger on a page. "Aha! Yes, there it is. The last one happened about thirty-ish years ago."
MK and Nod shuffled closer to the screen, as if that would help them read over his shoulder. "Anything interesting?" MK asked.
"Let's see…oh! Reports of glowing lights off in the distant forest. Um, the sudden storms always pick up just before midnight and just after, but there's always a time period right at midnight where the sky is perfectly clear. Very good for any photographers out there."
"Okay, so clearly the magic is acting up at that time." MK shoved her hands into her hoodie pockets. "We need more specifics though."
"The only way we're going to find out exactly how it works is at Nim's," Nod said. He didn't look too happy about the prospect. The idea of attempting to sort through all those scrolls one by one was not appetizing.
"There's got to be a faster way," MK muttered.
"Now, when you said you were planning to intervene in the forest people's war, you meant in a non-dangerous way, right?" her dad asked.
"I…" MK began. She glanced at Nod, who only flashed a sympathetic look. "No, of course nothing like that. I'm just trying to find some more information, that's all."
"Oh, good! The way you described it, sounds like an awful lot of fighting." Reassured by her lie, Bomba returned to his notes. "Come alert me any time you need extra help. I'll be doing as much digging as I can."
"Thanks, Dad," MK said. "Sorry you have to wait longer. I was all over the place these past several weeks, and with this new problem coming up, I don't think I can work on figuring out how to get me home any time soon."
"Don't worry about me! I'm excited for you! You get to live firsthand what I've spent years trying to scratch the surface of. Make sure when things get more relaxed, you tell me all about it." Her dad was practically bouncing in his seat.
MK held out her hands. "Hey, hey, easy there. It's not all fun and games here."
"Yes, you're right, of course. When I think of all of the amazing things you must be seeing, I happen to get a little carried away." He tousled his hair, making his glasses slip down his nose again. "I only wish I could be doing more to help. If this conflict is as much of a problem as it sounds…"
"Don't worry too much about it, Dad. We're working on some plans," MK said.
"By 'we,' she means mostly her," Nod said, leaning into the viewfinder.
MK shoved him out of the way. "Yeah, thanks a bunch Mister Big-Ideas. You're a cut-rate researcher."
"I'm moral support!" Nod protested.
"Even so, this is supposed to be my life's work!" her dad moaned. "And I'm stuck out here, like I'm watching a fishbowl."
"Dad, I promise, I absolutely promise, when we're all cleaned up here, I will tell you literally everything."
His shoulders sagged, but he nodded in resignation. "I just envy you. You look so driven. You've got a cause—a concrete goal! There's a fire in your eyes that wasn't there before." He rubbed his chin. "Reminds me of your mother, back in the day."
Her dad couldn't hear the MK's sharp intake of breath, but the sound made Nod whip his gaze on her. Her eyes flicked to him, hoping to convey that she would elaborate later. He tipped his head, catching her meaning, and MK's posture relaxed.
"Grass is always greener, Dad," she said to the camera. "I would love a moment's calm."
"I know, I know. Guess I just need to be patient."
"Keep looking up information. Anything helps, trust me." She glanced at Nod again. "I think we'd better get going. We've been talking for a couple of hours, I think."
"I'm glad we got to talk, and that you're able to get to some of the closer cameras," her dad said. He grinned. "I wasn't looking forward to trekking that far into the forest to try and replace the camera battery on the first one that you called with."
MK laughed. "Yeah, that one's in the middle of nowhere. I'm impressed you didn't get lost—because I would have!" She gave him a little wave. "I'll talk to you soon, Dad. Take care." She paused. "I love you."
"I love you too!" His wave was much more vigorous. "Bye!" The screen went black, leaving the quiet of the forest ringing in MK's ears.
"Yeah, 'nothing dangerous,' sure," Nod said, smirking as they walked up the branch toward where Maia was perched.
"I didn't want to worry him! It's not like it would help anything if I did."
"You did leave out a lot about the war. A lot of the intricacies…" Nod added.
"Like I said." She shoved her hands into her pockets and grimaced. "I think it's better that he has the innocent picture." MK chewed on her lip. "He's spent so much time studying you all, I think he's started to romanticize things. I don't want to burst his bubble just yet."
Nod quirked an eyebrow. "Really? Like what does he think our life is supposed to be like?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I don't think he expects you to have ugly, messy problems like how we do in the Stomper world. I could be underestimating him, though."
"Nah, I trust your judgment on this one," Nod said. "So, that thing about your mom…"
Her expression softened. "It was jarring. I've been so caught up here, I haven't had much of a chance to think about her lately. It's scary to think I could have been that distracted."
"Hey, you don't have to be thinking about her all the time. I don't think she would have wanted to be consuming your thoughts. She would probably be happy if you really have found a cause to fight for," Nod said, nudging her with his shoulder.
"Yeah…" MK frowned at the branch they walked on. When did this become her cause, really? At some point, her focus had turned away from figuring out how to get home and toward plunging head first into the war between the Boggans and Jinn. Her mind flew back to the night she'd saved Dagda. Somehow, things always came back to that. "I guess I'm just terrified that somehow, I might let go of her too much."
"I don't think that's possible. I mean, I barely knew my dad, but I haven't forgotten that he was a part of my life. And you spent your whole life with your mom. You don't have to think about holding onto her because she'll just…always be there." His hand brushed against hers, in case she needed a lifeline, but always waiting for her to make the first move.
"You're probably right. I guess I just feel like she could slip away from me somehow if I'm not careful." MK let their fingers touch again, almost catching onto each other.
A rush of wings alerted them to someone's arrival. Nod tensed next to her, ready to leap into action, but the distinctive music of a hummingbird's flight made it apparent there was no threat. A Leafman with fiery red hair leaped from the arriving bird.
"Finn? What's the rush?" Nod asked, relaxing.
"Nod, MK, I've been looking everywhere for you," Finn said, breathing hard.
"Why? What's wrong?" MK asked. Somehow, with the timing of the emergency, a notion tingled in her gut.
"They said no," Finn panted.
"Who?" Nod began.
"Mandrake. He said no," MK interrupted quietly, grimacing at the ground.
"Well, yeah, essentially," said Finn. "We got a delivery of a pile of rotted sludge. Apparently that was the peace treaty. The inference was pretty easy to make."
"So the invasion is happening," Nod said in a flat voice. He gripped onto MK's arm, making her realize she was swaying where she stood.
"Looks like it," said Finn, folding his arms. "General Ronin and the queen would like to see you two about it." Without further ado, Finn mounted his bird and took off again.
"What is there to do now?" she asked. MK had really hoped Dagda might be able to come through, but it really had been a long shot for the young, uncertain son to try and come against his vindictive, begrudging father and emerge the victor.
"Get ready to protect the people who are going to get stuck in the middle," Nod muttered, taking a tight hold of her hand. Together they walked toward Maia to make their way over to Moonhaven.
Dagda sat with Amianth, each perched on one of Kevrel's feet as the bird snoozed over them, providing shade from the afternoon head. Dagda had his knees tucked up to his chest, and he rested his head on them, watching the other birds squabble over scraps in the yard.
"He's too determined," Dagda said, picking at the fur on his rat cloak. "Or too afraid of turning back. And now he thinks I'm against him." He buried his face in his knees. "Why can't I do anything right?"
Amianth took a while to speak. "Who says you're doing anything wrong?"
Dagda lifted his head. "I just alienated my dad over something I don't even know my own position on."
She glared at him. "Don't you though? How many times have you whined about the war to me?" She stuck her lip out. "You're just upset because he's not happy with what you really believe."
He blinked at her. "But he's my dad, Ami. He trusted me to be on his side, and now he thinks I'm not."
Amianth sighed. "Well, are you or aren't you? Make up your mind!"
"Yes! Well, sort of. It depends."
She let out a dramatic huff and tossed a stick at his head. "Can't you decide on anything? How am I supposed to help you if you don't want to pick something and stand by it?" When he pouted, Amianth rolled her eyes and continued. "Okay, look. Just tell me what you really feel. I won't tell anyone, I promise. Maybe we can figure something out from there."
"I don't know, I—"
Another stick flung in his direction. "Not 'I don't know.' Just say it!"
"I don't want to keep fighting!" he snapped. "If we lose the invasion, it'll be bad for us, since we'll really have nothing in our favor. But if we win, it'll be just as bad. Nothing's going to change if we don't think of something different. The only thing that will change is who is more miserable, us or the Jinn! It won't work, and that's what Dad doesn't want to see or hear."
Amianth watched him, calmly now that he had finally spoken out. "Okay. See, that's something."
"But it doesn't help us. Somehow we have to turn a situation where everyone loses into one where everybody wins, and I don't know how to do that—not without going behind Dad's back."
"What if that was an option?" Amianth prodded.
"Going against Dad? Are you crazy?" Dagda gaped at her. "This is coming from Miss 'I'm telling the Chief on you?'"
Amianth shrugged. "Just saying. You gotta pick one thing or the other. Do you want to fight for what you believe in or do you want to stay with your dad and be the perfect son or whatever?"
"What do you think I should do?" he asked.
Amianth closed her eyes and shook her head. "You can't let me be the leader on this one. Not this time."
"But you're way more sure of yourself than I am. You're way better off to figuring this one out," he protested.
"No way. I'm not a big picture person like you. I don't see things the way you do. Why do you think it's you who's gonna be groomed as the next leader, not me?"
Dagda waved his arms. "Are you serious? There's no way I'm ready for that."
She fixed her hawk eyes on him, and he fell silent. "But Dagda, you're the one with the vision. You know how to see the best in people, make them like you, so that they want to be loyal to you. Aunt Hortensia sees it. Everyone sees it. People will turn to you, but they're waiting for you to believe in your own self. I mean come on, who else could possibly make friends with a Stomper? Not me, not without your help. Otherwise I wouldn't have had anything to do with her. And she ended up saving my life."
Dagda was quiet for some time. It seemed a long shot that people might actually look up to him in the near future. The idea of shouldering that kind of responsibility made him suppress a shudder. No wonder his dad looked tired almost always. "But what about you, Ami? No matter what I do, I can't do it alone."
Her gaze became fierce then. "You're my best friend. If you're asking for my support, then you are going to have it, but only if you commit. You have to make a choice."
I'm asking you to be brave.
He thought of MK, how hard she fought for what she believed in. Because there was something more important than herself, she had told them once. But he had to know for sure what he believed in, because once he made his choice, there would be no turning back, no walking the middle of the line. And either choice had the potential to alter their entire futures, the power to turn the wind.
"So," Amianth said, "what are you going to do?"
Thanks for bearing with the irregular schedule. I have a lot of school work so it's hard to find the energy to write after I spend like 7-8 hours a day working on assignments or being in class.