Nature and Blight

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Nature and Blight Page 36

by Matt Rogers


  Chapter 36: Natural Selection

  The Siege (Castle Nirvana, Blight’s Encampment)

  The nighttime was always their ally. They moved with stealth, silently gliding, fearful of discovery. They had a task to perform, it was highly dangerous, riddled with problems but utterly necessary. If they were unsuccessful all was lost. They listened as she explained her thoughts.

  “If they have an Elfin it will be a prisoner. If it’s a prisoner it will be one because others are also. Free them and you will free the one.”

  Hawkeye and Longshot were tasked with one-half the mission. Another had chosen the other. The two would enter the Breathless Forest to ascertain the reason Elfin technology was employed by the Prince’s creatures. The one would enter Blight’s encampment. He’d made the decision to go alone. She’d reluctantly agreed to allow it.

  “You are too important.”

  “If I do not prevail I will be of no importance.”

  “Are there no others you can ask?”

  “Those who could accomplish the task are needed for the other. I am sorry, My Queen, but if you deny me I will go anyway.”

  She gazed upon him with eyes of ocean blue, aware of the truth, aware of his intention.

  “General?”

  “Yes?”

  “Promise you will return.”

  He had not answered because he could not lie. She was his goddess and he her faithful. She was all things and everything. She was his friend, his mentor, his love. He would willingly kill the innocent to spare her life. She was more than he deserved, more than he could imagine, more than he could aspire. She was incredible to behold and graceless beyond measure. She had always been so and would always be. It was both a blessing and a curse. She was forever the object of desire.

  “Gaia.”

  She’d been awakened in the night, still a child, dressed in nightwear, oblivious to her beauty.

  “Momma?”

  “Yes, honey, hurry and get dressed. We must leave right away.”

  She became worried because she’d never seen her mother in a state of fright. The hushed whisper an indicator something was very wrong indeed.

  “Where’s Daddy?”

  The sudden stiffness of her mother’s reaction would forever haunt her thoughts.

  “Daddy is gone, honey. Hurry, we must be on the way.”

  She would never know how but would later learn why. Her mother didn’t speak of the event but rumors were always in the air. He died so she could live free. Another had claimed her. She was barely old enough to read but already breathtaking. The King had noticed. He demanded her presence in court. Her father refused. The price was life.

  “Daddy is gone?”

  The tear in her mother’s eye spoke the truth. An answer confirmed her fears.

  “Yes, honey, I am so sorry, Daddy is dead.”

  They fled that terrible night, that horrible place, two who were innocent of any crime but instrumental in others. Her beauty stemmed from her mother’s side, her father always amazed he’d won her heart. Her mother was the kindest creature, without malice and sympathetic to all. Her father worked in the mines, a hard and brutal job which provided for his family so he never complained. They lived a sheltered life, owned a small cabin on the border of a small village. They were happy. The trouble began when the prodigy arrived.

  “Twelve pieces of gold.”

  Her father paid without saying a word. He was aware of the rule. Non-payment was death. Partial payment was disfigurement. The man in front of him, the one with the cruel smile held a particularly troubling reputation. It was said he relished the pain of others. Her father had no wish to challenge the fact. It was over in seconds. The coins changed hands, the man turned to leave and the world changed forever.

  “Daddy!”

  She ran to his arms with the joy of childhood. She was always gleeful in his presence. He always responded in kind. Except that day, that terrible afternoon, the one where the King’s son spotted the most beautiful creature in the realm.

  “Hello, and who is this?”

  She looked upon the Prince with the eyes of the innocent, he leered back with the eyes of deceit. He was already pondering fortune. Her father noticed. He tried to intervene.

  “Gaia, go run along and find your mother. It is about time to start supper.”

  She left without argument, it was always her way, she could do no other for she loved her father with all her heart. He always responded in kind. He saw the look on the man’s face and made a decision; one which would cost him dearly but he saw no other hope.

  “My Prince?”

  Blight was a young ruler in those days, his father taught the ways of governance by placing him in charge of the taxes. He traveled widely, met his future subjects, killed some, maimed others and gleaned a particular truth; fear was an extremely motivating factor.

  “Yes?” he answered with a knowing grin.

  The father took a chance, it was a dangerous proposition but he saw no other path so ventured down one less traveled.

  “I beg forgiveness, Your Highness, but I have a favor to ask.”

  “Yes?”

  The tale he told was vague. It had to be. Both knew the truth but one wished to change fate.

  “My daughter has a sickness.”

  “Oh? She looked fine to me.”

  The fable would need to hold veracity but be without verification. His mind thought on the matter and claimed itself the savior.

  “Yes, My Prince, she does appear fine but she has the sickness of the brain. She believes in spirits and wanders around in search of ghosts. Her mother and I have discussed the matter and we realize she will never be a proper subject. She can hold down no job and shuns all boys. She is troubled, Your Highness, and we would like to offer our penance now for her future dependency on the crown.”

  The Prince smiled for he knew fact when he saw it. The child was not sick, she was anything but, she was perhaps the most perfect creature in all the realms. But he had time and was always in favor of favors.

  “Penance?”

  “Yes, Your Highness, we would like you to accept our payment of ten gold pieces for her insufficiencies.”

  Blight thought on the matter. He knew the bribe for what it was; payment for silence where the child was concerned. He himself, held no illusions. The child was, indeed, glorious to behold. Her glory, though, would be her undoing. He knew his father could allow no other to hold something so valuable. If he himself claimed the child it would only be temporary. Eventually the King would notice and take her. Therefore, he decided to reap what he could from the unfortunate and desperate.

  “She cannot work?”

  “No, Your Majesty.”

  “Then ten pieces it will be.”

  When the coins were placed in the Prince’s grasp the father held out hope the future would pass his daughter by. It didn’t. it couldn’t. Beauty was ever in the eye of the beholder.

  “I beheld a beauty today, My King.”

  The Troll Toodrake had taken notice.

  “I was traveling through a village when I spotted a child you will wish to possess.”

  The King became interested, demanded the child brought before him, her father refused and paid with his life.

  “Where are we going, Momma?”

  “I don’t know, honey, but we must hurry. Come, grab your things and follow me.”

  They left with little time to spare. She had been warned by a friend in the village who witnessed the act. Her husband remained defiant till the end but he was no match for six with swords and whips. The soldiers were on their way so escape was necessary. They entered the forest and became hopelessly lost.

  “Momma?”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  They were in desperate times for they didn’t how to provide for themselves. They were villagers, not foresters, so held no knowledge which would benefit their kind. They were as babes in the woods without protection,
babes who never learned to move with stealth, babes who became stalked when others detected their scent.

  “Run!”

  They raced with all their might, tearing through the underbrush as the pack of wolves gave chase. She never knew fear before that night, never experienced the overwhelming dread when one she loved so deeply was dependent on one who could not provide comfort. She was frantic. Her child, the only light left in her life would die because she could not defend her. They broke through a grove of trees and were met with a wall. A cliff. A mountain of stone which rose to the darkened sky. Stone covered with vines. Vines which could be scaled.

  “Gaia, hurry, climb!”

  The child did as she was told, she was ever the obedient one, she could do no other for she loved her mother with every fiber of her being. She climbed with desperation, pulling with all her might, aware escape was possible so long as they reached proper height. She was intent on the task so could be forgiven. She didn’t notice. She had not glanced behind. Her mother had chosen to make a stand. She would die so another could live.

  “Momma!”

  She watched with horror as the one who gave her life, forfeited hers so she could survive. She cried out in grief and clung without thought. She was entangled and stricken, emotional with loss. All she loved were gone. She would learn later they bought her life with their own. It was the beginning of her instruction, the first step she would take, the most important lesson she could learn; Nature demanded some die so others might live.

  She thought of leaping, giving up what they’d perished to preserve but could find no solace in such a selfish act so chose another route, one more difficult, one to alter everything; she chose to climb.

  The top seemed without reach, as though the mountain knew no heights, was indefinite, unending and insurmountable. She didn’t care. She held out hope something was at the summit, something she could achieve, something to strive for. The night ended, with the day came light. She glanced skyward, could see no end to her quest and again took vine in hand and trudged upward. She forgot time, forgot place, forgot all except the ones she wished were alive. They were everything to her and she wept uncontrollably on the side of a wall which had no end. Night returned and yet she could not stop. Something beckoned her. Something called to her. Something spoke her name.

  “Gaia.”

  She thought she’d become hallucinatory, hearing words spoken by no one, imagining voices which did not exist. She paid it no heed. It paid her respects.

  “Gaia.”

  The voice was female. She scanned her surroundings, the aerie’s nests, the rocky crags, the endless immobile wall. She saw nothing so resumed her trek.

  “Gaia.”

  She could no longer ignore so raised her voice and yelled with all her might.

  “What?”

  She waited for the reply to a simple response from one who’d gone insane. She almost fell to her death when it replied she was anything but.

  “You may rest now. The end is here and you have attained your purpose.”

  She did not understand the words. The last time she’d lifted her head the mountain remained the same. She believed herself delusional, overwrought with sadness, becoming one of those who lost touch with reality and found others within their own head. She almost fell again when, to her surprise, the cliff ended. She’d reached the top. She was surrounded by clouds. The mountain ran so high birds could not fly. She stood. It spoke.

  “Come.”

  She knew herself to be alone, not a creature within sight.

  “Where?”

  “Come.”

  She moved forward and the picture changed, the clouds parted and a castle appeared. She sensed with a certainty the voice emanated from somewhere inside. She was right. It did.

  She entered to find a great hall, filled with treasures and adorned with sunlight. In it sat a throne. On the throne sat a figure. A figure she recognized as her own.

  “Who are you?”

  “I am you, you are me, we are one.”

  The woman was elegant, clad in white, surrounded by a glow.

  “I do not understand.”

  “You will in time.”

  The woman stood and beckoned the child forward. Gaia responded and without reservation fell into the other’s arms as tears flowed freely.

  “I am sorry for your loss. It is never easy on the ones who are chosen.”

  She wiped her eyes and raised her head.

  “Chosen?”

  The woman looked down with eyes of aqua and a smile formed on her lips.

  “Yes, child, you are the chosen, my replacement; Mother Nature.”

  She looked upon the woman like she was mad. She believed herself to be dreaming. She wasn’t.

  “Your replacement?”

  “Yes, my time has ended and yours begun. It has been this way from the beginning.”

  She was confused.

  “What has been this way?”

  The woman again smiled. The smile was not one of joy but of sorrow. She knew what the child felt. She’d been through it herself as had all her predecessors. Nature was not the gentlest of spirits.

  “Your parents died so you could live, Gaia. Mine did the same for me.”

  With the sentence came a spasm of regret. She would forever remember the sensation.

  “Your grief is part of the process. It is necessary. You must come to understand life is dependent upon death.”

  The words struck her to the core.

  “Why?” she cried.

  The answer was anything but relieving.

  “Because those who will oppose you are the instruments of sorrow, the designers of sadness and the architects of grief. You must know the enemy before you can know yourself. What you have been through many have felt before. The world is harsh, Gaia, and you must recognize your place. You are the giver of life. They are the delivery of death. One cannot exist without the other but it does not mean one side cannot prevail. If those who are against you win, the realms will end and a new order will emerge.”

  She came to realize things were changing, reshaping, emerging anew. She listened as the woman spoke but felt different inside. She became aware of something else, something uneasy, something unpleasant.

  “I don’t feel well.”

  “You are experiencing death. You are one with the living so will encounter the opposite. You are feeling what all do when their time comes; some good, some bad, some unbearably evil. Those who would see you fail are ever devising their ways.”

  She felt a lessening of the emotion but not an ending. It was always there, always present, a necessary reminder of why she existed.

  “Why is this happening to me?”

  “Because you are the one. Fate played her part and so did your parents. They gave their lives willingly so you could survive. It is the way with life. We are not infinite. Life is a commodity in short supply and many wish to partake. Those who perish must wait their turn. Some are not as patient as others. There are ways to enter before one’s time but it is fraught with peril and always brings disaster. You may meet some. When you do you will know. It will be distasteful but necessary. You are now the protector of life, the sower of seed, the provider of birth. Act wisely, young child, and remember; your body is your temple, your castle, your home. Protect it at all costs. If it is destroyed then they have prevailed and the realms will know the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  The woman paused as if questioning whether to go on. She then made a decision and Gaia understood.

  “Life is more perilous than death. It teeters on the edge and is always at risk. If the others win then you will die. When that happens all will die for without birth nothing can survive.”

  She watched as the woman she would become, became no more. She understood. One life for one death. It had always been the way. She would go when her time came. Aware all things came to an end. Determined it would not happen on her watch.

  Another was also o
f the same mind and more than willing to pay the price.

  “Who go there?” it grunted.

  He said nothing, stood still as he waited for the beast’s brain to do its part. After thirty seconds without a sound the Orc forgot why it was peering into the darkness. He moved ever quieter, ever slower, for he was inside the encampment in search of another, two others in fact, but one more important. Blight was definitely a possibility but he wasn’t the golden ring. He could be replaced by another. If the Prince perished the King would not. He would take over where his son failed and they would be back where they started before the year was out. He needed the other, the little one, the Elfin; the one who allowed beasts to bore rock.

  He stayed low, ever alert for others. They’d lost track of Blight, even Longshot’s reconnaissance showed no sign of the Prince’s location. He was aware of his position and moved with a purpose. He believed the Elfin would be found near the devilish deed. The ranks of beasts paid him no heed for they knew not of his presence. At times General Shield was elusive as smoke.

  He heard a sound and moved closer to investigate. He was one with the weeds, one with the grass, a creature of the forest. He inched along, imperceptible to all, a shadow on the ground, a creature of the night.

  “What?” he heard one hiss.

  “It is gone” he heard another answer.

  The two in conversation were Trolls; big, nasty green monsters with an appetite for all and a like of none. They were conniving beings, always attempting to attain new heights by bringing others down. They held little creative thought, only mischievous plans, deigning to take what others built without the effort needed to construct themselves. Shield despised the lot. He found them wanting in every category but one; they were exceptional for target practice.

  “What do you mean gone?” the larger of the two asked.

  “Gone. Not here. Left” the other replied and Shield had a sneaky suspicion he knew who they were speaking of.

  He’d snuck far enough into enemy lines for proper surveillance. What he saw both surprised and verified his beliefs; Blight’s army was vast, powerful and hopelessly disorganized. Wherever he looked the signs of military preparedness was nowhere to be found. The tents the creatures inhabited were torn, frayed and set in no particular order. There were no sentries posted, no guards roaming the perimeter and as far as he could tell not a single forward observation post. He’d kept an eye out for the early warning location as he infiltrated the camp and had come across nary a sign. They were, if not for their vast numbers, sitting ducks awaiting hunting season.

  “How did it escape?”

  “I don’t know?”

  The Trolls, obviously, had lost a prisoner. Or a pet of some kind but Shield thought it an unlikely assumption. Trolls kept pets but only for torture. Their idea of domesticated animals was somewhat different than other’s. The actual purpose of the captured creatures was the same; it brought enjoyment to the one who held it. The way they went about obtaining the enjoyment was where the definitions altered. While most every other creature kept a pet because it gave them comfort and unconditional love, Trolls kept them to receive their daily dose of sadistic delights. To be a Troll pet was to live a horrifyingly short life.

  “Have you searched?”

  “How can I? If the Prince or Commander find out I will lose my head.”

  Shield believed Hawkeye had been right. He no longer thought Savage was in charge of Blight’s army. Savage was a mercenary, true, but he was a professional mercenary. Beheading guards who lost prisoners was the quickest way to lose both in the future. Soldiers would avoid the duty and if they couldn’t would quickly learn killing the prisoner drastically reduced escape attempts and thus greatly improved head preservation.

  “Show me where it was held.”

  Shield watched as the two creatures with awful hygiene moved to a cage hung from a tree branch. When he viewed the little suspended jail cell he became aware Councilor Clearview was correct assuming the cause of their problems; the ability to reach the water level through rock was, indeed, an Elfin. No other creature, not even a Midgling, could be kept in such cramped confines.

  “What are all those shards?”

  “It was very clumsy. It kept breaking the items for water and food.”

  Shield found himself smiling in the underbrush, laying low so he wouldn’t be discovered, thinking of the tiny creature who outwitted with the Trolls. He knew the Elfin and clumsy was not a word he would use to describe their race. Inquisitive, inventive, hard-working were more appropriate. Clumsy would be used to describe what they were not. He slowly backed away and waited. He needed a closer look. He’d found the answer he was looking for but not the actual prize.

  It was while waiting he felt something change, a slight shift of the wind, a clue he was no longer alone. He prepared himself for the confrontation. It was not one he wished because it was certain death. Whoever located his hiding place would need only to raise its voice and a thousand creatures, all much larger and wielding various weapons, would converge. He would give a good reckoning, of that he was sure, for he owed her everything but he was also aware of another fact; he alone held no hope against those so numerous.

  He slowly shifted, his movement impossible to detect unless already sighted. He removed his dagger, its sharpness honed through countless hours of preparation. He readied his emotions, became calm, relaxed, prepared. He waited for the attack.

  Nothing.

  He thought maybe he was wrong but knew it wasn’t so. He trusted his instincts, they’d never been false and saved his life more times than he could count. He settled his mind and peered into the darkness to see what he knew was there. When it finally came into focus he almost laughed.

  He put his finger to lips, signaling quiet and began creeping away. The other nodded its assent and they slowly set off. When they were far enough away he finally spoke.

  “Hello, Tweedlewink.”

  “Hello, General.”

  He’d known the Elfin for years. They’d met through Mother Nature, the Elfins her main farmers and he, in turn, their main protector. He felt awful when Blight’s forces surrounded the castle for he was cut off from those under his protection and prayed they came to no harm. Obviously, he’d been wrong.

  “It was you they captured?” he whispered.

  “Yes.”

  Shield glanced around to verify they were safe. They were.

  “Come. Let’s get back inside the castle. Mother Nature will be pleased to know you’re alive.”

  He began to move then noticed the other did not.

  “What’s wrong?”

  The answer changed everything.

  “They have my people. They are prisoners in the forest held by a group of Elvin. They said if I did not cooperate they would kill my kind.”

  Shield saw the truth and nodded his head. He didn’t like the kind of warfare Blight’s army imposed but he wasn’t so blind he couldn’t see the effectiveness of the techniques. He saw a slight problem, though, and queried his consternation.

  “Then why did you escape?”

  The answer, again, changed everything.

  “I didn’t. I merely altered perspective. If the Prince wishes to hold my people under threat then I thought his deserved the same.”

  Shield smiled. He knew. But he still had to ask.

  “What did you do?”

  “I wired this whole camp to blow. I will still abide by Mother Nature’s decree, I will not use explosives in warfare, so long as the Elvin abide by their promise. If they break the pact, though, all bets are off. If they kill my kind, I kill theirs.”

  With that statement Tweedlewink saw something different fall over the face of the General. He didn’t know the precise reason but could tell what he’d said had a profound effect on the man who led Mother Nature’s forces. What he didn’t know, what he was not privileged to, was the past; namely the General’s past. For the words spoken brought back memories best left unsaid, memories
which were life-defining, memories which were death-delivering. They weren’t the same, exactly, merely phrases close enough to evoke relationship. What Tweedlewink said was reminiscent of what another had written.

  You Take My Livelihood, I Take Yours!

  “Is everything all right?” the Elfin asked.

  The General, uneasy about giving away his inner feeling, responded appropriately.

  “Yes, everything’s fine. But I need to know what your plans are. Right now we have two, Hawkeye and Longshot, in your forest attempting to free your kind.”

  Tweedlewink’s eyes lit up at the information. He knew the two the General spoke of and thought if anyone could pull off the feat surely those two were in the conversation.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about that General. You see, the explosives I’ve planted should do the job of protecting my kind as long as I give them what they want. Now, I know as soon as they’ve taken the castle we’re dead because Mother Nature will be gone and so will the pact. The Elvin will kill us because we’ll no longer be useful so I decided to give us a little advantage in the negotiations department.”

  “What did you do?”

  The Elfin smiled.

  “Well, sir, I’ve also rigged their tunnel to collapse.”

  “The tunnel?”

  “Uh-huh. They may consider tunneling not a part of war but I’m not so sure. Since I can’t prove it I decided to play along. Since it’s not war I’m perfectly within my rights to add some destruction. Anyway, they’re going to need me a bit longer than they think if they want to force Mother Nature’s hand with that water-pollution thing.”

  General shield smiled. He had a solution. If they could free the Elfin and Tweedlewink collapse the well they could end their problem. He knew something of Blight’s gift. It was powerful, of that there was no doubt, but it was not without limits and one of those was he needed physical proximity to that which he controlled. Without sight, smell, touch, taste or sound Blight was unable to bring his power to bear. His control was over the continuation of disease. If a plant were withering and in his presence it would continue for all time until he allowed it to die. The carcass in the water supply was the same. Unless he could use one of his senses to locate the rotting corpse it was no good. It would decay and eventually run its course allowing the forces of Nature to again receive clean water.

  “So you were going to… what? Allow yourself to get captured again?”

  “Yes, sir, that was my plan. I was going to reappear and let them put me back in that cage. Then, in about, oh, ten hours from now that tunnel is going to collapse and, once again, they’re going to need my services.”

  “But surely they would suspect you were the reason behind the well collapsing?”

  “Yes, sir, true. That’s why I set the other explosives. Look, I’m sorry but I had no other option. As long as they hold my kind captive I need to keep them alive. The only way I could think to do so was to stall for time. So I was going to renegotiate the terms. I would reopen the well only after they set my people free. Now, I know they would think I’d set another charge if they agreed to my demands so I thought ‘What would I do if I were them?’. I figured they’d agree and watch with a wary eye while I set my charges to reopen the well. With them watching there would be no way I could set new ones to implode it again. So I knew after I was done they would renege on their promise and keep my people hostages. Now, I’m no expert but it seems to me if a bargain is breached then the one doing the breaching cannot be trusted. If they can’t be trusted then none of their previous promises hold any validity. If they hold no validity then the previous truces hold no value. Therefore, I set a bunch of explosive reasons for them to keep their end of the bargain. If they don’t let my people go, they are going to end up on the receiving end of some pretty powerful responses to false representation.”

  Shield saw the logic behind the Elfin’s reasoning and gave the little guy credit for looking after his charges. The tiny being was in quite the predicament. He and the Elvin were bound by a truce which held so long as Nature reigned. The problem was the Elvin were siding with the opposing faction. It made for an odd situation.

  The Elvin, though known primarily as assassins were not defined by the Guild. They held a full society and were known to be vigilant with their promises. Their pact with the Elfin would hold so long as Mother Nature held power. It was the Assassin’s Guild which was part of the problem. They’d been hired to fight the very entity which held their hand where the Elfin were concerned. The other part of the problem, Shield believed, was with the Elfin. He didn’t want the pact to continue. He felt if the Elvin were fighting against Nature then they already broke the pact and the Elfin were within their rights to blow the dirty, rotten stealth-killers off the planet altogether. His dilemma rose form the very being they issued their pledge to; Mother Gaia Nature. She refused to see his side of the equation. She stubbornly held to the belief if the Elvin did not kill Elfin then they were not in violation of the pact. He pointed out if Blight won, the truce would be void anyway because she would no longer hold sway. She reiterated it didn’t matter; if both species held to their words she would not allow either to violate the treaty. It was her insistence which kept Elfin explosives out of the game.

  Except, they weren’t. They were actually being employed by Blight, using one-half the species of the pact, Elvin, to threaten the other half, Elfins, with pact-violation if they didn’t use the very weapons they were forbidden to employ in warfare. The fact the explosives were not used directly in the fighting seemed, to Shield, a splitting of hairs. He really didn’t like the position Nature had placed herself in but she held to her beliefs, wouldn’t budge, so he was attempting to alter the situation. He saw a problem, though.

  “But after your people are free, what then? What about Mother Nature?”

  The Elfin looked crestfallen. Shield knew the answer so spared the other.

  “Never mind. I understand. You must abide by her earlier ruling and not use explosives in warfare. It’s okay, I can comprehend your need to protect your people. I believe I would’ve done the same if I were in your position.”

  The Elfin glanced up at the General with gratitude. It really was a hard decision because he was heartbroken over his options

  “Thank you, sir. I don’t believe a word you say but I thank you anyway.”

  Tweedlewink knew the General would never have chosen anyone or anything over Gaia Nature. It was the difference between the two. The Elfin knew Mother Nature would accept his decision because the Elfin were of her. Her physical form might die but her immortal form would live on as long as her creations held life. His kind would hide. They would bide their time and survive. It might take generations but eventually Prince Blight’s reign, and thus King Rot’s, would end. When it happened Nature would return. In another form, of course, but she would return. Shield, on the other hand, loved Gaia Nature herself. He saw not the immortal but the physical embodiment of its design. He would give all, literally all, everyone and everything to protect her. Tweedlewink had seen devotion before but never on the scale the General felt.

  “Okay. But things have changed. If we free your kind they will have no hold over you and you can either escape or… ” Shield said but then stopped.

  “Or I will die. It’s okay, sir. I have no wish to aid Blight and will willingly die before I ever help them open that hole again. But I need confirmation they are, in reality, free.”

  The General saw the truth in the Elfin’s eyes. He would die for Nature but would not put his people’s lives at risk with hope and belief alone. Hawkeye and Longshot would need to come through.

  “Okay. Once I’ve received word your kind are free I will signal with three flaming arrows. They will be fired in the southern sky and you will know your people are safe.”

  Tweedlewink would not challenge the General’s honesty. He knew Shield would do everything in his power to protect Nature but also knew deception of allies wa
s not in his arsenal.

  “Then I shall wait with anticipation, sir. If the arrows are lit then Blight’s plan of polluting the water will end.”

  The General nodded his head and held out his hand. The Elfin grasped it with his tiny paw and the deal was set. He would again take his place in a cage and the General return to the castle. Everything would hinge upon two who were against the Elvin. Elvin who held Elfin. Elvin who were masters of death. The fact Tweedlewink held out hope, promise even, the two would be successful was not because he believed the Elvin inferior. On the contrary. He knew the Elvin for what they were; masters of their craft. The reason he held his belief? The two the Elvin faced were different. They were not masters of their craft, they were beyond the description; they were the definition. As the General turned to leave Tweedlewink felt he should impart a little more information. He wasn’t sure it would help but felt the need to inform the great man of what he learned.

  “General?”

  Shield paused, turned and looked at the brave creature.

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t know if this is important but I believe something is going on in Blight’s army which you should be aware.”

  The General, always interested in his opponent’s business, listened intently to what the Elfin said.

  “And that is?”

  “Blight is now being guarded by the Elvin.”

  Shield’s eyebrows immediately rose. The Elvin were contracts. They were not allies. They held no one’s interest above their own and were known never to lie but also never to be trusted. They spoke in vague terms and were ever on the lookout to further Guild interests. If the Prince was guarded by the Elvin then he was taking a large gamble with his future. He knew something else about Blight; the man was ever reliant upon others. Shield was always amazed with how life worked. Generally things remained the same. Generally one’s beliefs were correct because the past had proven them so. But every once in a while things changed. What was once fact became fiction. What was once impossible became probable. With Blight in the hands of the Elvin, even if they were only protecting him, things had definitely taken a different turn.

  “He allowed himself to be talked into that?”

  “Yes. He has a new Commander and I overheard him and an Elvin discuss the Prince. The Elvin asked if Blight were with his people and the Commander said he was.”

  Shield’s mind immediately went to the possibilities. If Blight were under protection of the Elvin then he was under contract with the Guild. The Guild never entered one without leaving open the possibility for change. It was conceivable they could contact the Guild and work out a deal. Maybe they could obtain Blight for the right price? Oh, he knew Mother Nature would never consider such an idea but he wasn’t her. They worked for different ideals. She worked for the interests of life. He worked for the interests of her. Sometimes the two came into conflict. It didn’t matter. He would do what was necessary and let the chips fall where they may.

  “What is the Elvin called?”

  He needed a name. It was the way the Guild worked. They Guild Council would agree to a contract but the ranking Elvin in the field would decide how it would be implemented. There were times when an assassination could be manipulated. There were many reports of one individual taking out a contract on another only to find both locked in a room together, swords within reach, because both had hired the Guild to kill the other. The Guild would allow them to fight, allow a winner to prevail, and allow the winner to meet Death herself by assassin steel in order to uphold their ends of both bargains.

  “I heard from the Troll he was called Blade.”

  Shield filed the name away for future consideration.

  “And the new Commander?”

  Tweedlewink was also aware of life’s inconsistencies. He’d just been through a lot himself. One second swinging through the treetops, the next, held captive and forced to work for the enemy of Nature. He’d become aware of another thing also. Sometimes the changes didn’t sneak up on someone. Sometimes one could readily perceive when everything one thought, every plan one designed, suddenly changed. Like when one found a magical amulet. Like when one spoke words they thought irrelevant.

  “His name is Cutter.”

  And with that simple statement he saw something he’d never believed possible. A change in one he felt was unalterable; a shift of focus from one resolution to another. He didn’t know it, was not privileged to the past, but what he saw was death. Death in the eyes of one who loved life herself. Death in the face of one who’d never reconciled with himself. Death in the very fiber of a man. Death from a man who had no equal. Death to another he vowed to kill. Death to one who had taken his love. Death to avenge his love’s loss.

  “General, are you okay?”

  Death from one with a jade locket around his neck.

  “General?”

  And the world changed again.

 

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