Remus and Taanoraa, the scarred mermineae, keep most of the discussion between themselves. Once a common ground had been determined, they moved onto confirming the lesser important terms of our cooperation and information trade.
I don’t believe for a second they are being entirely open with us, but it isn’t something I can do anything about.
The other elder, Saad, has backed off from the talks, grunting only a few times at comments of his fellow. The mermineae is even less approachable than the others of his kind. A sneer almost permanently affixed across his face.
The Beith mercenaries we chase are apparently only a few days’ travel southeast of here. The Forvaal clergy have tails attached to them, so it shouldn’t be hard to find them. Whether Remus can convince them to help us is the greatest concern at the moment. Of course, only if you ignore the risk working with these mermineae poses.
Why did the Beith mercenaries come across the Alps in the first place? For so many of them to abandon their posts as defenders of the pact nations, they must have a reason. If that reason is important enough to travel so far into unknown lands, then will they even put it aside to help us? Will they listen?
There’s no point worrying about it for now. We need to find them first, and we can’t even start travelling until this damn rain lets up.
Seated by Grímr’s side, I look down at my arms. The damage from my time beneath the Alps has left my sleeves in tatters. Now that I have time and don’t have to worry about hiding my flames, I can try out some alterations to my form. The lack of sleeves means that the outfit is almost worthless as a protection against the rain. I should look at the bright side; it gives me the opportunity to see if any of the ideas floating around in my head to improve my spearmanship would work.
Slowly, from beneath my original arms, I grow a second pair. It feels… strange. Unlike when I grew wings, it isn’t completely alien, but more like I’m feeling an echo of my first pair. I move my arms and find the lower pair following the movements of my main limbs. There is a fair bit of mental strain I have to put into manipulating them independently, but the more actions I take, the easier it becomes.
A bellow from Remus gains my attention. I don’t know if he’s just trying to get along with the mermineae or if something they said was actually funny, but it isn’t important. As I’m lowering my eyes, I can’t help my attention falling on the hyperflexible tentacles he has.
Without a moment of hesitation, my four arms mimic the dohrni’s limbs. As with every time I try a different form for the first time, it is an odd feeling. The long appendages are particularly difficult to grasp at things. The lack of dexterous fingers really interferes with how I’m accustomed to holding things. Even the talons of a bird are far easier.
I hear another chuckle from Remus and almost ignore it, but from the corner of my eye, I see him watching me. I tilt my head at him before I realise he’s laughing at me. Indignance fills my chest from his obvious misunderstanding. I don’t know exactly what he’s thinking, but he’s definitely confused.
My arms return to normal as quick as they can and I avoid eye contact.
I’ve lost my motivation for exploring, so I fall back into practising my control. A ball of cinders appears in my hand and I toss it in the air. The weight I give it lets it fall back into my hand without issue. Throwing it again, it hits the ceiling and bounces back.
I have to keep a bit more focus on retaining the mass with the flames than I would sustaining a normal fire, but it actually acts like a real ball now. I’d spent so long back in that furnace trying to figure this out. Now I can do it without faking it. As long as I keep a tiny portion of my focus on having the ball retain its shape, it doesn’t splatter across the dirt ceiling.
As the ball rises and falls, I try to push as much of my control through it. I want to compress the flame. Not only shrink the flame, but keep the heat and intensity of a larger flame in a smaller space. Unfortunately, just like my body has a block to how small I can become, my flame refuses to compress any further without me removing some of the energy.
I know there should be a way to push past this blockage. Well, I don’t know for sure, but why wouldn’t there? I’m certain Elder Cyrus could do it. The heat of his flames was always far greater than every other áed. I just need to figure out how.
Movement from my side has me turning to Jav, who, for the first time since we freed him, seems to move with intent. He walks up to me and stands there, unable to look up at me. It’s an awful comparison to the self assured Volan he used to be.
His wingsuit is in as bad of a condition as my outfit. The wings obviously torn to prevent him flying off after he was captured. Jav’s downcast gaze makes me realise just how small the volan is. His attitude always seemed larger than his body. Now that it’s gone, I realise he’s like a jerboa amongst giants.
I recall the feeling of intimidation I struggled with when I was living amongst the ursu.
“Solvei,” he starts, scratching at his hand resting against his chest. “I’m sorry for abandoning you back then.” He still cannot look up at me.
What does he mean? The time when he got caught? But he’s the only one who suffered from that mistake.
He’s visibly struggling to speak any further.
A pang of guilt hits me. He’s obviously been through a lot, and still, he thought about how he left us. And I was harsh enough to consider it a just punishment.
I don’t know if I can forgive the betrayal yet, but I don’t hate him. I don’t hate any of them. Never should I have wished this sort of treatment on them. He is not in a condition for me to keep any grudge against him over what happened months ago.
“Jav… there is nothing for you to apologise for. It was unfortunate what happened. That’s it. Grímr and I survived just fine on our own. You were just trying to save your friends. There’s nothing wrong with what you did.” I lay down so I’m closer to his level. “We are out now. You can move on from what happened down in those tunnels.”
Jav finally raises his head. Our eyes catch for a split second before he averts them. He hesitantly nods.
Oh, I will not be so forgiving the next time I come across mermineae. I turn my head to glare at the four across the burrow from us. But no, they aren’t the ones who did this. I’ll focus my anger on the next group of ‘traitors’ we meet.
It seems Remus and the scarred mermineae, Taanoraa, have finalised their discussions. Both of the elderly Forvaal move toward the entrance beside Grímr. Aana and Muuro close behind.
“Well, there’s no reason to delay,” Taanoraa says. “Shall we meet your old comrades?”
He wants to head out? In this downpour? Thankfully, Remus doesn’t even need to look my way to know how much I’m against that idea.
“No. We need to wait until the rain stops.”
Taanoraa narrows his eyes at Remus, before pivoting to me.
“Suit yourself.” He squeezes past Grímr, who blocks most of the exit. The other Forvaal follow close behind. “Catch up to us when you can.” And with that, the mermineae are gone.
It is just our team again, and I’m thankful for it. I just can’t get comfortable around them. Except for Aana, they all come across as duplicitous. It’s the same feeling I got from Gloria, like poorly hidden contempt, disguised with a smile. Well, the two elderly ones weren’t smiling, but it still felt the same.
Remus lets out a sigh. “This will be rough. Those grumpy old farts remind me far too much of the bureaucrats back home.”
“Are we still going to work with them?” I ask.
“For now, we will. Though I’m uncomfortable leaving the task of halting the mermineae’s encroach entirely in this clergy’s hands, we shouldn’t oppose them. At least until we know more.”
“These Beith mercenaries we are going to find, how well do you know them?”
“I’m not sure who we will find, but I’ve worked with most on the roster over the years. It’ll be hard to tell if we can convince them until I know who we are dealing with.”
Hopefully, the Beith mercs will be more than willing to help once they realise the danger the nations face in their absence.
The rain continues its downpour for hours. As we wait for it to let up, the five of us relax together for the first time in what must be forever. We have the urgent task of protecting the pact nations, but none are willing to put me in danger. I appreciate their consideration.
Even before we found ourselves stuck beneath the Alps, it had been hectic. I can’t remember the last time I just sat down and talked about nothing like this.
Bunny must be desperate for some form of weapon. She tugs out a worrying amount of her own hair that had grown rather long in her captivity. Binding it into rope, she somehow straps a bundle of jagged stones to her fist. She calls it a caestus. Well, I assume the actual weapon would look better than the wrap of hair and stone she keeps readjusting.
It’s good to know she hasn’t changed.
Jav, on the other hand, mostly keeps to himself. The apology to me being the only moment I’ve seen him interacting with the outside world. Remus is paying close attention to him, staying by his side and giving him words of reassurance and comfort.
As we climb out of the burrow after the rain, I stick to Grímr’s back. I know my boots should keep the water soaking the ground off my feet, but I will take no chances.
The sky seems clear, not a bird in sight. Well, except the titan. Grímr’s body seems to be an effective deterrent to those dangerous creatures. Hopefully, they stay away from us.
Hmm. Now that we are all together, could we take on that four winged eagle I’d faced? I’m curious, but there’s no point asking for a fight we don’t need to take. Especially with no certainty of victory.
Grímr stretches his wings and the others join me on his back. He takes to the skies, heading for the next meeting point.
Half the day passes travelling at the incredible speeds the alicanto reaches. We make it to the agreed meeting point, but I can’t feel any mermineae around me at all. It looks like we got here quicker than them. They should be here already. I cast my sight over the horizon, but that hardly tells me where they are.
I’ve seen how fast they can run. Even accounting for Grímr’s flight being faster than their running, they left hours before us, so why aren’t they here?
“Where do you think they’ve gone?” I ask.
“Who can say,” Remus says. “They might not have gone anywhere and are just trying to pressure us. I’ve seen tactics like this a million times.”
Pressure us by… not showing up on time? I’m not sure I understand.
My confusion must have been clear on my face as Remus lets out a chuckle. “It’s a politician’s tactic. Rather pointless and annoying, but they are trying to show to us we aren’t important to them. Also, considering they’ve yet to tell us where the Beith’s are, I’m sure it’s their way of saying we can’t work without them.”
He casts his gaze over the horizon before continuing. “But if this is a political game, it’s rather otiose. More likely, they’ve stopped somewhere along the way. They may report to their clergy, but if that was the case, a single one of them would have been capable of delivering the information.”
They aren’t planning another ambush for us, are they? I look around while simultaneously feeling for any out-of-place heat signatures. But I find nothing.
I guess we’re going to be waiting for them.
Remus and Taanoraa, the scarred mermineae, keep most of the discussion between themselves. Once a common ground had been determined, they moved onto confirming the lesser important terms of our cooperation and information trade.
I don’t believe for a second they are being entirely open with us, but it isn’t something I can do anything about.
The other elder, Saad, has backed off from the talks, grunting only a few times at comments of his fellow. The mermineae is even less approachable than the others of his kind. A sneer almost permanently affixed across his face.
The Beith mercenaries we chase are apparently only a few days’ travel southeast of here. The Forvaal clergy have tails attached to them, so it shouldn’t be hard to find them. Whether Remus can convince them to help us is the greatest concern at the moment. Of course, only if you ignore the risk working with these mermineae poses.
Why did the Beith mercenaries come across the Alps in the first place? For so many of them to abandon their posts as defenders of the pact nations, they must have a reason. If that reason is important enough to travel so far into unknown lands, then will they even put it aside to help us? Will they listen?
There’s no point worrying about it for now. We need to find them first, and we can’t even start travelling until this damn rain lets up.
Seated by Grímr’s side, I look down at my arms. The damage from my time beneath the Alps has left my sleeves in tatters. Now that I have time and don’t have to worry about hiding my flames, I can try out some alterations to my form. The lack of sleeves means that the outfit is almost worthless as a protection against the rain. I should look at the bright side; it gives me the opportunity to see if any of the ideas floating around in my head to improve my spearmanship would work.
Slowly, from beneath my original arms, I grow a second pair. It feels… strange. Unlike when I grew wings, it isn’t completely alien, but more like I’m feeling an echo of my first pair. I move my arms and find the lower pair following the movements of my main limbs. There is a fair bit of mental strain I have to put into manipulating them independently, but the more actions I take, the easier it becomes.
A bellow from Remus gains my attention. I don’t know if he’s just trying to get along with the mermineae or if something they said was actually funny, but it isn’t important. As I’m lowering my eyes, I can’t help my attention falling on the hyperflexible tentacles he has.
Without a moment of hesitation, my four arms mimic the dohrni’s limbs. As with every time I try a different form for the first time, it is an odd feeling. The long appendages are particularly difficult to grasp at things. The lack of dexterous fingers really interferes with how I’m accustomed to holding things. Even the talons of a bird are far easier.
I hear another chuckle from Remus and almost ignore it, but from the corner of my eye, I see him watching me. I tilt my head at him before I realise he’s laughing at me. Indignance fills my chest from his obvious misunderstanding. I don’t know exactly what he’s thinking, but he’s definitely confused.
My arms return to normal as quick as they can and I avoid eye contact.
I’ve lost my motivation for exploring, so I fall back into practising my control. A ball of cinders appears in my hand and I toss it in the air. The weight I give it lets it fall back into my hand without issue. Throwing it again, it hits the ceiling and bounces back.
I have to keep a bit more focus on retaining the mass with the flames than I would sustaining a normal fire, but it actually acts like a real ball now. I’d spent so long back in that furnace trying to figure this out. Now I can do it without faking it. As long as I keep a tiny portion of my focus on having the ball retain its shape, it doesn’t splatter across the dirt ceiling.
As the ball rises and falls, I try to push as much of my control through it. I want to compress the flame. Not only shrink the flame, but keep the heat and intensity of a larger flame in a smaller space. Unfortunately, just like my body has a block to how small I can become, my flame refuses to compress any further without me removing some of the energy.
I know there should be a way to push past this blockage. Well, I don’t know for sure, but why wouldn’t there? I’m certain Elder Cyrus could do it. The heat of his flames was always far greater than every other áed. I just need to figure out how.
Movement from my side has me turning to Jav, who, for the first time since we freed him, seems to move with intent. He walks up to me and stands there, unable to look up at me. It’s an awful comparison to the self assured Volan he used to be.
His wingsuit is in as bad of a condition as my outfit. The wings obviously torn to prevent him flying off after he was captured. Jav’s downcast gaze makes me realise just how small the volan is. His attitude always seemed larger than his body. Now that it’s gone, I realise he’s like a jerboa amongst giants.
I recall the feeling of intimidation I struggled with when I was living amongst the ursu.
“Solvei,” he starts, scratching at his hand resting against his chest. “I’m sorry for abandoning you back then.” He still cannot look up at me.
What does he mean? The time when he got caught? But he’s the only one who suffered from that mistake.
He’s visibly struggling to speak any further.
A pang of guilt hits me. He’s obviously been through a lot, and still, he thought about how he left us. And I was harsh enough to consider it a just punishment.
I don’t know if I can forgive the betrayal yet, but I don’t hate him. I don’t hate any of them. Never should I have wished this sort of treatment on them. He is not in a condition for me to keep any grudge against him over what happened months ago.
“Jav… there is nothing for you to apologise for. It was unfortunate what happened. That’s it. Grímr and I survived just fine on our own. You were just trying to save your friends. There’s nothing wrong with what you did.” I lay down so I’m closer to his level. “We are out now. You can move on from what happened down in those tunnels.”
Jav finally raises his head. Our eyes catch for a split second before he averts them. He hesitantly nods.
Oh, I will not be so forgiving the next time I come across mermineae. I turn my head to glare at the four across the burrow from us. But no, they aren’t the ones who did this. I’ll focus my anger on the next group of ‘traitors’ we meet.
It seems Remus and the scarred mermineae, Taanoraa, have finalised their discussions. Both of the elderly Forvaal move toward the entrance beside Grímr. Aana and Muuro close behind.
“Well, there’s no reason to delay,” Taanoraa says. “Shall we meet your old comrades?”
He wants to head out? In this downpour? Thankfully, Remus doesn’t even need to look my way to know how much I’m against that idea.
“No. We need to wait until the rain stops.”
Taanoraa narrows his eyes at Remus, before pivoting to me.
“Suit yourself.” He squeezes past Grímr, who blocks most of the exit. The other Forvaal follow close behind. “Catch up to us when you can.” And with that, the mermineae are gone.
It is just our team again, and I’m thankful for it. I just can’t get comfortable around them. Except for Aana, they all come across as duplicitous. It’s the same feeling I got from Gloria, like poorly hidden contempt, disguised with a smile. Well, the two elderly ones weren’t smiling, but it still felt the same.
Remus lets out a sigh. “This will be rough. Those grumpy old farts remind me far too much of the bureaucrats back home.”
“Are we still going to work with them?” I ask.
“For now, we will. Though I’m uncomfortable leaving the task of halting the mermineae’s encroach entirely in this clergy’s hands, we shouldn’t oppose them. At least until we know more.”
“These Beith mercenaries we are going to find, how well do you know them?”
“I’m not sure who we will find, but I’ve worked with most on the roster over the years. It’ll be hard to tell if we can convince them until I know who we are dealing with.”
Hopefully, the Beith mercs will be more than willing to help once they realise the danger the nations face in their absence.
The rain continues its downpour for hours. As we wait for it to let up, the five of us relax together for the first time in what must be forever. We have the urgent task of protecting the pact nations, but none are willing to put me in danger. I appreciate their consideration.
Even before we found ourselves stuck beneath the Alps, it had been hectic. I can’t remember the last time I just sat down and talked about nothing like this.
Bunny must be desperate for some form of weapon. She tugs out a worrying amount of her own hair that had grown rather long in her captivity. Binding it into rope, she somehow straps a bundle of jagged stones to her fist. She calls it a caestus. Well, I assume the actual weapon would look better than the wrap of hair and stone she keeps readjusting.
It’s good to know she hasn’t changed.
Jav, on the other hand, mostly keeps to himself. The apology to me being the only moment I’ve seen him interacting with the outside world. Remus is paying close attention to him, staying by his side and giving him words of reassurance and comfort.
As we climb out of the burrow after the rain, I stick to Grímr’s back. I know my boots should keep the water soaking the ground off my feet, but I will take no chances.
The sky seems clear, not a bird in sight. Well, except the titan. Grímr’s body seems to be an effective deterrent to those dangerous creatures. Hopefully, they stay away from us.
Hmm. Now that we are all together, could we take on that four winged eagle I’d faced? I’m curious, but there’s no point asking for a fight we don’t need to take. Especially with no certainty of victory.
Grímr stretches his wings and the others join me on his back. He takes to the skies, heading for the next meeting point.
Half the day passes travelling at the incredible speeds the alicanto reaches. We make it to the agreed meeting point, but I can’t feel any mermineae around me at all. It looks like we got here quicker than them. They should be here already. I cast my sight over the horizon, but that hardly tells me where they are.
I’ve seen how fast they can run. Even accounting for Grímr’s flight being faster than their running, they left hours before us, so why aren’t they here?
“Where do you think they’ve gone?” I ask.
“Who can say,” Remus says. “They might not have gone anywhere and are just trying to pressure us. I’ve seen tactics like this a million times.”
Pressure us by… not showing up on time? I’m not sure I understand.
My confusion must have been clear on my face as Remus lets out a chuckle. “It’s a politician’s tactic. Rather pointless and annoying, but they are trying to show to us we aren’t important to them. Also, considering they’ve yet to tell us where the Beith’s are, I’m sure it’s their way of saying we can’t work without them.”
He casts his gaze over the horizon before continuing. “But if this is a political game, it’s rather otiose. More likely, they’ve stopped somewhere along the way. They may report to their clergy, but if that was the case, a single one of them would have been capable of delivering the information.”
They aren’t planning another ambush for us, are they? I look around while simultaneously feeling for any out-of-place heat signatures. But I find nothing.
I guess we’re going to be waiting for them.
