“Should we have left like that?” I ask, laying my head into the sharp feathers of his neck.
“Probably not.” His chest rumbles beneath me as he speaks.
Even if we should have stayed, I’m glad Grímr listened to me. I’m glad I don’t have to be near that mage again. If I had to be around him any more, I would have burnt him to a crisp, even if the insane bastard enjoyed it.
Sharing our flame, or Kindling, is a private thing. Intimate even. It is done between family. But to not only have someone attempt it forcefully, but for a non-áed to try, with the artificial control of those markings, is insulting. He attempted to join a song when he could not sing, so he squeezed his hands around my throat to pull me to his level.
I should have killed him.
Just the thought of his action is enough to infuriate me once more. I will never experience Kindling with my family again, but this deranged mage thinks he can come in and force it upon me? To take it further and try to control me?
“Why did he enjoy it? I felt his body melting under my touch, but he didn’t care.”
“Well… fire mages have a reputation for not being completely sane,” Grímr says. “I’m sure you’ve a better idea than most about how fire doesn’t mix with people’s bodies. Common perception is they burn away part of their minds to wield fire as they do.”
“Common perception?” I ask.
“Well, I prefer not to listen to general opinions like that. Most consider my kind as dangerous monsters, after all.”
Now that I think about it, Grímr is the only portian I’ve met. Do the rest stick to themselves, or do they just hide in bodies without anyone knowing? If the rest of Grímr’s race share his views on sapient bodies, the latter probably isn’t likely.
“What about what she said? Do they really keep the strongest fighters from fighting?”
“Is that what angered you? It only applies to the Bei-”
“No, no. Well, it did annoy me, but I attacked because the mage tried to put his influence over my flames.” I push myself off his back and rest on my knees. “But then, why was the commander so furious? I’m no Beith, so there should have been no issue with me eradicating the mermineae.”
Grímr sighs. “You revealed our elite is a fire mage, even if unintentionally. If our foes were any but the mermineae, they’d be bringing water mages to the next battle. Also, you should be aware by now, you are easily within the range of a Beith. You overpowered the commander’s allocated elite, after all.”
I had thought he was incredibly strong at the start, hadn’t I? “But his control was horrible. There’s no way he could have beaten me.”
Grímr snorts. “You sound just like my old friends talking about lightning mages. But that’s exactly my point; even if his control was lacking, you took him out without resistance. This is someone who’s considered an elite for his fire-wielding capabilities, losing to his own element.”
I smirk a bit at that. They must see the mage as completely worthless now. Really, why would they even bother trying to control fire when such a thing so so completely beyond them? But regardless of the control he lacks, he is strong enough for the Mercenary Order to keep him in reserve.
I can kinda understand the logic; lose the first battle so you can win the ones that count. But what is the point of having the gun-wielding soldiers around? Their weapons were almost completely ineffective against the mermineae. Only incredibly lucky shots could down one of their opponents before they were on top of them. Were they bait? Living targets? Is that all they’re good for in war?
It just seems so inefficient.
“Then why not move the Beiths around after each battle?” I ask. “Have the fire mage here one fight, and have them switch with the nearest Beith. Maybe bring in a physical fighter as replacement.”
“Too much of a risk.” Grímr shakes his head. “If the enemy ever found out, we’d face their full offence without the support of our hidden elite.”
“But these are the mermineae we’re talking about. The only ones amongst them that don’t hide are the Viisin, their elite. Should they really hold back when they all have the same abilities?”
“How certain are you that what we have seen is the extent of their abilities?”
“Huh?” wouldn’t they have shown more against the centzon if they had anything more to give? The centzon seemed pretty sure they had nothing more than their Viisin.
“It’s never good to confuse your assumptions with fact. We have a good reason to believe they have nothing more, but we should always consider the possibilities. The Forvaal’s power comes with the cost of their sight, so why is it not possible the Viisin or some other type of mermineae have an ability that requires a much greater sacrifice?”
I peer past Grímr’s head over the land ahead.
“Besides,” Grímr continues. “It will take a lot of convincing to change the methods of the Mercenary Order, even if it is the right way to fight the mermineae.”
I look behind me, at the Alps, and finally realise something’s wrong.
“Where are we going? Why aren’t we going to Meja?”
“The major forward operating base. I was chatting with some of the other mercenaries and got a rough idea of what’s going on. There’s a good chance we’ll meet Remus there.”
I swallow my impulse to insist on continuing toward Meja. I need to check up on my friends, make sure they’re safe, but I know it’s probably better to meet with our team first.
This time, we follow the appropriate procedures when arriving at the military outpost. After we land — Grímr terrifying a bunch of soldiers and lower ranked mercenaries as we do — we move toward the largest building in the repurposed town.
There are a whole lot more people around here than back at the first battle-site. The flight wasn’t long, but there were soldiers almost everywhere along the border and we could only thank the extensive fortifications put in place and the mercenaries mixed amongst them that the mermineae haven’t pushed past them completely.
Those guns and field cannons might not be much on their own, but with enough to rain iron on the mermineae if they got too close, it is enough to make them hesitate in their attack. None of those defences would mean much if the Forvaal join the battle, but the soldiers and their weapons are just barely enough to hold the normal mermineae at bay.
Though, I do wonder how they deal with the mermineae’s camouflage.
Grímr attracts eyes as we walk through the wide street. His massive golden-green body shining in the early evening moonlight. It is only when we reach the large double-doors to the command building that we realise he couldn’t possibly fit inside. Well, he could, but I don’t know how we’ll get him out without breaking through the wall.
“I’ll see if I can get them to come out and see you,” I say.
Grímr is a lot stronger than he was in that panther body, especially now with how well he can control his body. Could he be considered at the level of a Beith now, too?
I push through the doors and approach the two dohrni women at the front desk. Their membrane a deep purple compared to the blue of their male counterparts. They don’t notice me until I speak, too busy with their work.
“Excuse me, could you ask the commander to come down to meet with us?”
“Name and reason? Wait, you want the commander to come down for you?” the dohrni on the left finally raises her eyes to me, her partner following suit a moment after.
“Solvei, and yes,” I say. “I was told I had to present myself to the commander when I showed up, but Grímr can’t come inside.” I gesture over my shoulder where the alicanto pokes his head through the door.
“Gosh, girl. What happened to you?” she jumps to her tentacles and circles the table, eyes glued to the remains of my outfit that barely cover me.
“Uh, we got into a fight earlier today, and I wasn’t as careful as I should’ve been.” I look down at Jav’s gift. It is going to be much harder for him to fix this up than it was before.
“I can’t let you walk around like this. You’re coming with me right now.” One of her limbs grasps me by the hand as she leads back toward the double-doors. “Tell Darton he’s got a visitor,” she calls back to the other dohrni. “I’ll be back in five.”
I send a baffled glance toward Grímr as he moves out of our way. The bird finds this amusing? He doesn’t even hide the amusement in his eyes as he watches me being carted off down the street.
I peer down at my hand, knowing I could burn her grip off at any moment I want… but I don’t. This is the first time in a long while someone has grabbed me and I don’t have the immediate urge to tear out of their grip.
She leads me toward a building with wide glass windows. Behind the panes, three wooden life-size replicas of an albanic, khirig and dohrni lay collapsed to the side. Heavy wooden crates take the space I assume the fake people might have stood.
I’m led past a couple of soldiers standing guard and through the front door into what I’m sure was a clothing store at one point, but is more of a storage room now. Some clothes hang on the wall, but large wooden crates fill most of the space.
“So, Solvei — Ah, call me Letty — how’d your clothes get all torn up? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Letty says as tears open a crate, revealing piles of folded cloth.
She grabs one and holds it up over my chest. It hangs low to my knees. There are a bunch of soldier uniforms in the box. Apparently unsatisfied, Letty tosses the shirt to the edge of the crate, but misses and it falls to the floor. She doesn’t seem to notice and grabs another.
“A Forvaal got a bit angry at me. Tore me open before I could do the same,” I say.
“What?” her tentacle freezes as she grabs another shirt.
“What do you think you’re doing?” a gruff old voice grouches from the back of the store. “Letty? Those are military fatigues. You know you shouldn’t be going through them.”
Her eyes linger on me for a moment longer before they spin to the old albanic walking toward us. “Come on Nomar, the kid needs something to wear.”
“Not the army equipment, she doesn’t. Check what we threw out the back; there might be something there.”
“You didn’t toss them?” She discards the second brown cloth back into the box and drags me toward the back door, leaving the old albanic to grumble about tidiness.
It’s much darker in the back room, so I ignite my hair for some light. Just as many crates in here leave little space to walk around. Most of these are open, though. The first we pass is a box stacked upon others with several identical guns.
I’m curious to how they work, so I reach out for one, but notice Letty’s attention before I can touch them.
“Can you, uh… stop your fire? There are a bit too many explosives in here for you to be doing that.” Her eyes flick to the door we just came through. “You’d better stop before Nomar comes back. He’s not exactly polite in the best of times.” She laughs, but it is strained.
I don’t delay and do as she asks. She pulls me further into the dim room, taking me away from the crate of guns. I’ll have to see if I can grab one for myself. They aren’t exactly the best weapon, but they can do a lot of damage to those who cannot resist the impact. The speed they hold would be great if I can figure out how to launch my spear like it does the bullets.
“Right, Solvei.” Letty says, but I get the feeling she’s not actually addressing me.
While I’m led to the side wall, where a pile of cloth lays discarded behind a row of crates, she rolls her eyes back in her head toward me. “You’re the áed on Remus’ team, right? He’d said you were young, but I didn’t expect you to be this young.”
“Remus is here?” I ask. It has only been a few months, but it feels like so much longer since they made it through the tunnel. Does he know about the Viisin? Probably not. I should hurry to meet him and tell him about the threat beyond the Forvaal, but… the sooner I meet him, the sooner I’ll have to tell him about my mind. Even if Grímr has been nothing but understanding, I still want to put it off.
“Yep, he’s been meeting with the commander almost every day since he arrived.” Letty lets go of my hand and climbs over the crates, grabbing an array of coloured clothing from the pile.
“So, skirt or pants?”
I look at the two pieces of clothing she holds up. Somehow, in only a few moments, she’s found garments that appear close to my size.
“It doesn’t matter. Either way, they’ll just get damaged the next time I try to use my spear.” Getting in close enough to use my weapon always ends up with my enemy able to strike back, so no matter what I go for, it’ll be destroyed before long, just like the snow-suit I’m wearing.
“Oh, don’t be so boring. That’s it, the skirt for you.” She pushes the clothes into my hands and pushes me into a corner, obscured from sight. I’m not really sure why she’s adamant about keeping me out of view, but I do as she says.
While I put on the new outfit, lamenting the lack of boots to go with it, Letty continues. “I don’t know about getting clothing that’s indestructible, but I’ve heard some luxurious garments imported from Riparia have self-mending qualities. Maybe you can look into something from there? They are exorbitantly expensive, but if you’re a part of Remus’ team, you should have enough cash in no time.”
I walk back into view with new clothes on my back and Jav’s gift in hand. The number of tears through the outfit really interfered with the fur’s camouflage, so I never had the chance to try sneaking around with it. Maybe I can keep it and have it remade when I meet Jav next.
I will absolutely look into the Riparia clothing once I’m able, but that will have to wait until this war is over.
Letty stares down at me, unsatisfied. Does she not like the outfit she chose herself?
“Solvei,” she starts. “Remus welcomed you onto his team despite your age, so I know you are strong… but that makes me concerned. The Mercenary Order will do everything they can to slap a leash on you, especially now that most Beiths have run off. Please know that you do not have to do everything they say. Take care of yourself first.”
“Should we have left like that?” I ask, laying my head into the sharp feathers of his neck.
“Probably not.” His chest rumbles beneath me as he speaks.
Even if we should have stayed, I’m glad Grímr listened to me. I’m glad I don’t have to be near that mage again. If I had to be around him any more, I would have burnt him to a crisp, even if the insane bastard enjoyed it.
Sharing our flame, or Kindling, is a private thing. Intimate even. It is done between family. But to not only have someone attempt it forcefully, but for a non-áed to try, with the artificial control of those markings, is insulting. He attempted to join a song when he could not sing, so he squeezed his hands around my throat to pull me to his level.
I should have killed him.
Just the thought of his action is enough to infuriate me once more. I will never experience Kindling with my family again, but this deranged mage thinks he can come in and force it upon me? To take it further and try to control me?
“Why did he enjoy it? I felt his body melting under my touch, but he didn’t care.”
“Well… fire mages have a reputation for not being completely sane,” Grímr says. “I’m sure you’ve a better idea than most about how fire doesn’t mix with people’s bodies. Common perception is they burn away part of their minds to wield fire as they do.”
“Common perception?” I ask.
“Well, I prefer not to listen to general opinions like that. Most consider my kind as dangerous monsters, after all.”
Now that I think about it, Grímr is the only portian I’ve met. Do the rest stick to themselves, or do they just hide in bodies without anyone knowing? If the rest of Grímr’s race share his views on sapient bodies, the latter probably isn’t likely.
“What about what she said? Do they really keep the strongest fighters from fighting?”
“Is that what angered you? It only applies to the Bei-”
“No, no. Well, it did annoy me, but I attacked because the mage tried to put his influence over my flames.” I push myself off his back and rest on my knees. “But then, why was the commander so furious? I’m no Beith, so there should have been no issue with me eradicating the mermineae.”
Grímr sighs. “You revealed our elite is a fire mage, even if unintentionally. If our foes were any but the mermineae, they’d be bringing water mages to the next battle. Also, you should be aware by now, you are easily within the range of a Beith. You overpowered the commander’s allocated elite, after all.”
I had thought he was incredibly strong at the start, hadn’t I? “But his control was horrible. There’s no way he could have beaten me.”
Grímr snorts. “You sound just like my old friends talking about lightning mages. But that’s exactly my point; even if his control was lacking, you took him out without resistance. This is someone who’s considered an elite for his fire-wielding capabilities, losing to his own element.”
I smirk a bit at that. They must see the mage as completely worthless now. Really, why would they even bother trying to control fire when such a thing so so completely beyond them? But regardless of the control he lacks, he is strong enough for the Mercenary Order to keep him in reserve.
I can kinda understand the logic; lose the first battle so you can win the ones that count. But what is the point of having the gun-wielding soldiers around? Their weapons were almost completely ineffective against the mermineae. Only incredibly lucky shots could down one of their opponents before they were on top of them. Were they bait? Living targets? Is that all they’re good for in war?
It just seems so inefficient.
“Then why not move the Beiths around after each battle?” I ask. “Have the fire mage here one fight, and have them switch with the nearest Beith. Maybe bring in a physical fighter as replacement.”
“Too much of a risk.” Grímr shakes his head. “If the enemy ever found out, we’d face their full offence without the support of our hidden elite.”
“But these are the mermineae we’re talking about. The only ones amongst them that don’t hide are the Viisin, their elite. Should they really hold back when they all have the same abilities?”
“How certain are you that what we have seen is the extent of their abilities?”
“Huh?” wouldn’t they have shown more against the centzon if they had anything more to give? The centzon seemed pretty sure they had nothing more than their Viisin.
“It’s never good to confuse your assumptions with fact. We have a good reason to believe they have nothing more, but we should always consider the possibilities. The Forvaal’s power comes with the cost of their sight, so why is it not possible the Viisin or some other type of mermineae have an ability that requires a much greater sacrifice?”
I peer past Grímr’s head over the land ahead.
“Besides,” Grímr continues. “It will take a lot of convincing to change the methods of the Mercenary Order, even if it is the right way to fight the mermineae.”
I look behind me, at the Alps, and finally realise something’s wrong.
“Where are we going? Why aren’t we going to Meja?”
“The major forward operating base. I was chatting with some of the other mercenaries and got a rough idea of what’s going on. There’s a good chance we’ll meet Remus there.”
I swallow my impulse to insist on continuing toward Meja. I need to check up on my friends, make sure they’re safe, but I know it’s probably better to meet with our team first.
This time, we follow the appropriate procedures when arriving at the military outpost. After we land — Grímr terrifying a bunch of soldiers and lower ranked mercenaries as we do — we move toward the largest building in the repurposed town.
There are a whole lot more people around here than back at the first battle-site. The flight wasn’t long, but there were soldiers almost everywhere along the border and we could only thank the extensive fortifications put in place and the mercenaries mixed amongst them that the mermineae haven’t pushed past them completely.
Those guns and field cannons might not be much on their own, but with enough to rain iron on the mermineae if they got too close, it is enough to make them hesitate in their attack. None of those defences would mean much if the Forvaal join the battle, but the soldiers and their weapons are just barely enough to hold the normal mermineae at bay.
Though, I do wonder how they deal with the mermineae’s camouflage.
Grímr attracts eyes as we walk through the wide street. His massive golden-green body shining in the early evening moonlight. It is only when we reach the large double-doors to the command building that we realise he couldn’t possibly fit inside. Well, he could, but I don’t know how we’ll get him out without breaking through the wall.
“I’ll see if I can get them to come out and see you,” I say.
Grímr is a lot stronger than he was in that panther body, especially now with how well he can control his body. Could he be considered at the level of a Beith now, too?
I push through the doors and approach the two dohrni women at the front desk. Their membrane a deep purple compared to the blue of their male counterparts. They don’t notice me until I speak, too busy with their work.
“Excuse me, could you ask the commander to come down to meet with us?”
“Name and reason? Wait, you want the commander to come down for you?” the dohrni on the left finally raises her eyes to me, her partner following suit a moment after.
“Solvei, and yes,” I say. “I was told I had to present myself to the commander when I showed up, but Grímr can’t come inside.” I gesture over my shoulder where the alicanto pokes his head through the door.
“Gosh, girl. What happened to you?” she jumps to her tentacles and circles the table, eyes glued to the remains of my outfit that barely cover me.
“Uh, we got into a fight earlier today, and I wasn’t as careful as I should’ve been.” I look down at Jav’s gift. It is going to be much harder for him to fix this up than it was before.
“I can’t let you walk around like this. You’re coming with me right now.” One of her limbs grasps me by the hand as she leads back toward the double-doors. “Tell Darton he’s got a visitor,” she calls back to the other dohrni. “I’ll be back in five.”
I send a baffled glance toward Grímr as he moves out of our way. The bird finds this amusing? He doesn’t even hide the amusement in his eyes as he watches me being carted off down the street.
I peer down at my hand, knowing I could burn her grip off at any moment I want… but I don’t. This is the first time in a long while someone has grabbed me and I don’t have the immediate urge to tear out of their grip.
She leads me toward a building with wide glass windows. Behind the panes, three wooden life-size replicas of an albanic, khirig and dohrni lay collapsed to the side. Heavy wooden crates take the space I assume the fake people might have stood.
I’m led past a couple of soldiers standing guard and through the front door into what I’m sure was a clothing store at one point, but is more of a storage room now. Some clothes hang on the wall, but large wooden crates fill most of the space.
“So, Solvei — Ah, call me Letty — how’d your clothes get all torn up? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Letty says as tears open a crate, revealing piles of folded cloth.
She grabs one and holds it up over my chest. It hangs low to my knees. There are a bunch of soldier uniforms in the box. Apparently unsatisfied, Letty tosses the shirt to the edge of the crate, but misses and it falls to the floor. She doesn’t seem to notice and grabs another.
“A Forvaal got a bit angry at me. Tore me open before I could do the same,” I say.
“What?” her tentacle freezes as she grabs another shirt.
“What do you think you’re doing?” a gruff old voice grouches from the back of the store. “Letty? Those are military fatigues. You know you shouldn’t be going through them.”
Her eyes linger on me for a moment longer before they spin to the old albanic walking toward us. “Come on Nomar, the kid needs something to wear.”
“Not the army equipment, she doesn’t. Check what we threw out the back; there might be something there.”
“You didn’t toss them?” She discards the second brown cloth back into the box and drags me toward the back door, leaving the old albanic to grumble about tidiness.
It’s much darker in the back room, so I ignite my hair for some light. Just as many crates in here leave little space to walk around. Most of these are open, though. The first we pass is a box stacked upon others with several identical guns.
I’m curious to how they work, so I reach out for one, but notice Letty’s attention before I can touch them.
“Can you, uh… stop your fire? There are a bit too many explosives in here for you to be doing that.” Her eyes flick to the door we just came through. “You’d better stop before Nomar comes back. He’s not exactly polite in the best of times.” She laughs, but it is strained.
I don’t delay and do as she asks. She pulls me further into the dim room, taking me away from the crate of guns. I’ll have to see if I can grab one for myself. They aren’t exactly the best weapon, but they can do a lot of damage to those who cannot resist the impact. The speed they hold would be great if I can figure out how to launch my spear like it does the bullets.
“Right, Solvei.” Letty says, but I get the feeling she’s not actually addressing me.
While I’m led to the side wall, where a pile of cloth lays discarded behind a row of crates, she rolls her eyes back in her head toward me. “You’re the áed on Remus’ team, right? He’d said you were young, but I didn’t expect you to be this young.”
“Remus is here?” I ask. It has only been a few months, but it feels like so much longer since they made it through the tunnel. Does he know about the Viisin? Probably not. I should hurry to meet him and tell him about the threat beyond the Forvaal, but… the sooner I meet him, the sooner I’ll have to tell him about my mind. Even if Grímr has been nothing but understanding, I still want to put it off.
“Yep, he’s been meeting with the commander almost every day since he arrived.” Letty lets go of my hand and climbs over the crates, grabbing an array of coloured clothing from the pile.
“So, skirt or pants?”
I look at the two pieces of clothing she holds up. Somehow, in only a few moments, she’s found garments that appear close to my size.
“It doesn’t matter. Either way, they’ll just get damaged the next time I try to use my spear.” Getting in close enough to use my weapon always ends up with my enemy able to strike back, so no matter what I go for, it’ll be destroyed before long, just like the snow-suit I’m wearing.
“Oh, don’t be so boring. That’s it, the skirt for you.” She pushes the clothes into my hands and pushes me into a corner, obscured from sight. I’m not really sure why she’s adamant about keeping me out of view, but I do as she says.
While I put on the new outfit, lamenting the lack of boots to go with it, Letty continues. “I don’t know about getting clothing that’s indestructible, but I’ve heard some luxurious garments imported from Riparia have self-mending qualities. Maybe you can look into something from there? They are exorbitantly expensive, but if you’re a part of Remus’ team, you should have enough cash in no time.”
I walk back into view with new clothes on my back and Jav’s gift in hand. The number of tears through the outfit really interfered with the fur’s camouflage, so I never had the chance to try sneaking around with it. Maybe I can keep it and have it remade when I meet Jav next.
I will absolutely look into the Riparia clothing once I’m able, but that will have to wait until this war is over.
Letty stares down at me, unsatisfied. Does she not like the outfit she chose herself?
“Solvei,” she starts. “Remus welcomed you onto his team despite your age, so I know you are strong… but that makes me concerned. The Mercenary Order will do everything they can to slap a leash on you, especially now that most Beiths have run off. Please know that you do not have to do everything they say. Take care of yourself first.”
