by Rosie Scott
“Why?” I asked, my eyes looking over the huts.
“Eteri is jam-packed with mountains and cliffs, and most of my people live in the highlands,” he explained. “If there are two things the Vhiri like, it's height and control.”
Just then, as if on cue, the door of one of the elevated huts opened, and a young Vhiri woman walked out, followed quickly by a man of the same race. The two trotted down the stairs to the walkways while they chatted.
“You owe me some gold,” Jakan teased.
“I didn't agree to the bet,” I replied, with a chuckle.
Music flowed to my ears as we approached the steps up to the walkway. There was the harsh, tribal beat of multiple types of drums, along with the higher pitched notes of a flute. We followed the music until we found ourselves at a large outdoor gathering area made out of thick planks of wood which expanded over the wetlands for a distance worthy of an entire building. The musicians here were all Vhiri save for one Alderi man who beat on one of the drums, and they sat beneath a crudely built overhang. There were many overhangs like it which extended out from railings, keeping goods and people dry from the finicky weather above.
Our presence here was noted with a hefty dose of curiosity combined with some suspicion. Calder and the sailors had been through this city before, and I was sure the people here were used to being more acceptive of others than most places around the world. Even still, we had an orc, a female Alderi, and an Icilic half-breed among us, none of which were a common sight.
“Calder!” The greeting called my attention to a Vhiri woman exiting a nearby hut, closing the door behind her with much difficulty, as the swollen wood refused to fit evenly on its frame. She paid little attention to this, two light green eyes filled with excitement for having seen the Alderi. “Back so soon?” Her voice was strong and confident, and though she was svelte, her arms rippled as she finally shut the door she'd been fighting with, revealing she was stronger than she looked.
“You know I can't leave you here for long, love!” Calder replied, picking up his pace to greet her. He glanced back to us. “Guys, this is Cyrene, the fiercest cat in the jungle.”
Cyrene took note of the group of us as we approached her. Her skin was a shimmering bronze, and she had a mane of dark golden hair that waved past her shoulders. Two streaks of red war paint were drawn under two big, clear eyes. I wondered if Calder's description of her was literal. Given that anyone who could get through the initial blood mixing could be a beastman, it was impossible to tell which people here could transform.
Calder grabbed Cyrene into a hug, and she slapped him on the back as they parted, the motion tinged with both fun and strength. “Introduce me to your new friends, Cal,” she requested, her eyes moving over my friends and I.
“Ah, yes.” Calder motioned toward each one of us individually as he spoke. “These shits are Jakan the illusionist, Anto the silent-but-deadly-warrior, Nyx the sassy assassin, plays-with-skellies Cerin, and Kai, the god who seeks to own the world.” Calder turned back to his friend with a smile, leaving all of us chuckling over his introductions.
Cyrene cocked her head with amusement. “I won't pretend to be surprised by any of this. One question, though.” She eyed us. “Why do you put up with him?” She threw a thumb in Calder's direction.
“I think the better question is why he would put up with us,” I spoke up.
“It's about time someone gives you at least half the trouble you've dealt,” the woman said, crossing her arms, before frowning and looking through the sailors. “Speaking of which, where is Koby?”
Calder hesitated, before he looked off through the huts. “Perhaps we should sit and talk somewhere quiet.”
Cyrene's green eyes lost a bit of their spark as she said, “Oh no.” Though unsettled, she turned on the walkway to lead us deeper into the city. “The gathering hall should be open,” she told us, as we followed her through small groups of the populace.
Everything was communal in Misu, and as far as I could tell, no gold was exchanged here. Men and women were busy on walkways and in buildings with open doors alike in all manners of jobs, some butchering recent kills for food or making materials. Some inhabitants walked up to tables with goods and simply took them after little more than pleasantries were exchanged with the workers. Everyone here had something they contributed, whether it was a service or a talent, and I supposed that stretched over to combat if ever the time came to defend the city from attacks.
The gathering hall, as Cyrene called it, was one of the few buildings that was not round in Misu. It was a long, rectangular one story construction surrounded on all sides by walkways which then branched off in multiple directions. The hall sat in the exact center of the city, and looked as if it served any purpose for which it was needed. Benches aligned the exterior, and torches dotted its walls, only kept aflame by the calcint which coated them.
We entered the building through two large ceiling-to-floor doors which still bore the markings and swirls of the trees they'd once been. Because the doors had been closed and the building had no windows, the air inside was thick, hot, and humid. If I'd noticed anything about Misu while walking through it, it was that few doors remained closed, and the windows of huts were just as open and free as in Nahara. It wasn't as hot as the desert here, but the wetlands posed their own discomforts.
An expansive wooden table stretched across the entire length of the hall before us, aligned on either side by long benches meant to sit multiple people. A chandelier hung toward the table's center from the high point of a gabled roof, many of the candles without flames from a lack of use. On the opposite end from where we stood, a huge fireplace had been built, made out of chiseled stone. The wooden walls were dark outside of the flickers of orange, the shadows of multiple smaller tables dancing across them at will.
The entire populace of Misu could fit in this building, if they all were crazy enough to try. From the residual scent of ale and sweat that clung to this place, it must have held many a party and event in its past. I took a seat near the head of the table, between Calder and Cerin. The rest of our group filled in the benches to my right, but even with nearly twenty of us, the long table was still mostly empty.
Cyrene sat across the table from Calder, and between the two of us, we filled her in on the details of our voyage. The conversation naturally flowed into the war, though Cyrene already knew a little about the Battle of the Dead from a traveler before us. After all, the one year anniversary of the battle was just a fortnight away. Word moved slowly across the seas, but other voyages hadn't been nearly as cursed as ours and had made safe passage here from the other continent in a timely manner.
As Calder continued to tell his friend of our plans to unite and free the slaves of the underground, I found myself wondering just how important Cyrene was here. There didn't seem to be any hierarchies in Misu, but we were telling Cyrene all of this as if she alone had the power to give us both advice and allies.
Cyrene was silent for some time after Calder finished his explanations, as she pondered over what she'd heard while judging me with her light green eyes. The red war paint on her cheeks shone with the nearby fire light. It certainly made her appear more intimidating, but at least she wasn't wearing blood like the Blades of Meir. When she finally spoke, her words were directed toward me.
“There are rumors, Kai, that you are a warmonger,” she said, an unrelenting gaze solid between us. Confidence oozed from her words, but I didn't let it faze me. I appreciated people who were blunt about their opinions and concerns.
“I don't see why they are rumors, when it is obviously true,” I replied, my voice just as strong. “I think we need to be clear on just what a warmonger is: a person who advocates war. I am advocating for it, because it is the only option I have if I want to achieve my goals. It doesn't mean I wouldn't prefer peace. There have been times throughout history when war has been necessary.”
“There have been times throughout history when war has killed th
ousands upon thousands,” Cyrene countered, her forehead creased with concern.
“Would you prefer to keep the male Alderi enslaved to avoid war?” I questioned. “Would you prefer Chairel continued to put people to death for practicing magic? Thousands will die in this war so that thousands more can live through the generations and have better quality of life.”
The woman frowned, her eyes flicking over to Calder. “Are you willing to die for your brothers?” She asked him. I understood she was trying to figure out whether I'd talked him into this.
“It was my idea,” Calder replied. “You know me, Cy. I lived for sailing the seas with Koby and my crew. Koby is dead. My ship is at the bottom of the ocean. The only thing I have left is anger.”
“Do not let it consume you,” she encouraged, her tone worried.
“It's not consuming me, it's motivating me,” he argued, hurt by her resistance. “You knew Koby and I had a plan to do this eventually as it was. Despite everything that's happened, I have come across someone—” he motioned toward me “—who has the skill to help me and reasons to do so.”
I took Calder's words in with much interest. I hadn't known there ever was a plan between him and his deceased friend to free the slaves. It didn't seem like something he would have agreed to do before all of our troubles.
“That plan would have never come to fruition if you had any say,” Cyrene retorted, confirming my suspicions. “You even told me the last time you were here that you hoped Koby would move on and forget it. What has changed you? You are raring to go do something you never wished to do years ago.”
“Koby's death changed me,” Calder answered. I noticed him stiffen beside me, and I hoped he wouldn't let his anger get the best of him. His blue hands were rolled into fists upon the rough wood of the table. “He begged and begged me over the years to hire a whole group of mercenaries with the coin we'd saved to take a stab at the underground. I kept putting it off, and putting it off, because to be honest, I don't fucking want to go back. I escaped the place once and remember how horribly we were treated and how hard it was to get out. I still don't want to go back. But I can't escape the fact that that's all Koby wanted for years, and he died without the satisfaction. I couldn't protect him.” He jammed a finger down on the table, as if to point to the underground. “But there are thousands more like him who are counting on someone like me to go back and risk everything to save them. I can try to protect them. And if there is some smidgen of an afterlife, perhaps Koby will see my efforts and forgive me.”
My heart ached hearing Calder's rambles. It was rare that he let these internal musings be heard by the rest of us. I nearly tried to comfort him, but from the corner of my eye, I saw his hand reach up to his necklace on its own. Cyrene watched the movement as well, for the first time noticing the jewelry around her friend's neck.
“I understand your pain,” Cyrene finally acknowledged, treading carefully to avoid causing her friend further irritation. “But Calder, this is your war. Not ours. It's hard enough living in this wilderness. I'm not about to send all of our beastmen on some suicide mission underground for the sake of your anger.”
“Fine.” Calder stood from the table abruptly. “And you don't have to. You have no authority here.”
“None of us do,” Cyrene protested, staring at him as he started walking off to the door.
“Exactly. So I'll go through every one of you if I have to and ask each person individually.” Calder turned at the door, spreading his hands out in frustration. “Out of all the people here, I thought you would understand. How much have I done for you over the years?”
“Calder—”
“How many times have I risked my neck to bring this city supplies?” Calder hesitated, breathing harder with rage. “You were just fine letting me risk my life if it would benefit you. I have never asked you for anything, and you won't even listen to my plea. One plea, in over sixty fucking years!”
Cyrene was quiet. She knew there was little use in talking to him while he was like this. Calder watched her for a response for a few moments, and when none came, he spun and left the hall in a move of fury, slamming the door behind him.
“This is a suicide mission,” Cyrene finally said softly, her eyes coming back to me.
“I have experience with those,” I told her. I couldn't help but feel a little bitter for the way she'd rejected all of Calder's ideas. “Besides, the fewer people we have, the more likely we are to fail. It's clear to me that you and Calder have been friends for a long time. You are dismissing his only request after decades of his helping you.”
“I have only met you today, Kai,” she retorted, offended. “You know nothing of our history.”
“You're right, but Calder is my friend, and I believe him when he says he's done much for you.”
“He is your friend out of circumstance,” Cyrene replied. “You knew he'd be easily manipulated into doing this.”
I laughed dryly. “Really? Were you not the one who just said I knew nothing of your history? You know nothing of mine. You say this is a suicide mission, but you think I'm stupid enough to risk everything for it? The allies I'm seeking are currently behind bars. They have more to gain than I do.”
“Then why do this at all?” She questioned as a challenge.
“Because I owe a lot to Calder,” I replied. “He was nice enough to change the way he did things just because I requested it of him for our voyage, and it ended up costing him everything. We were on our way to Eteri, but we're taking the time and the risk to make this trip with him. I felt it was the least I could do.”
Those words seemed to hit Cyrene hard, because now she knew I was doing more for Calder than she ever had. Her eyes fell to the table, where she let her long fingernails trail over the imperfections in the wood. “Why will you be going to Eteri?”
“I have a feeling they'll join me in the war,” I answered honestly. I doubted she would like my reasons very much, but at this point, I didn't care. It was clear to me that Cyrene had long ago decided what to think of me, before I'd ever touched foot upon the shores of the wildlands.
“They'll join you,” she acknowledged, though the statement was monotone and dry. “My people love their war.” She glanced over to Jakan, as if the other Vhiri would audibly agree.
“Do they?” I asked contrarily.
Two green eyes flicked to mine. “Yes. It is why I left Eteri. I tired of death and warfare.”
“We're wasting our time here,” Cerin spoke up beside me, before he stood from his bench. Directing his words to Cyrene, he added, “It is people like you that let injustices continue to happen.” He waved a finger to his right, where the others sat. “There are a few of us here who would be dead today if it were up to the pacifists. I understand not desiring war, but pacifists don't change the world.”
“How dare you claim to know me,” Cyrene seethed.
“I don't claim to know you, and I don't care to know you,” Cerin responded. “You have consistently insulted Kai today without knowing her, and I don't want to hear it after all she's done for me. I try not to waste my time with hypocrites.”
“Ditto,” Nyx said, before standing herself.
“Guess this means it's time to leave,” Jakan murmured to Anto next, before they started to stand.
Cyrene and I stared at one another as I heard the sailors follow suit. I waited to get up myself, wanting to say one final thing to her.
“One day, I will control Chairel,” I told her, just as confidently as I'd said anything else. “And when that day comes, and you and your people get the word that beastmen are welcomed there and not shamed, I want you to think of me.”
“How pretentious of you,” Cyrene scoffed.
“I'd rather be pretentious than lazy.” I finally stood, making a sweeping gesture to Cerin. “After you.”
Our group left the gathering hall beneath a storm cloud of frustration and doubt, keeping our eyes out for Calder. One of the sailors finally spotted him farth
er in the city, talking to a small handful of people. We headed there, and I caught the last remnants of Calder's words to them.
“—you'd be a part of something great, I promise you.” Calder's tone was desperate. I didn't hesitate to walk up beside him to help him out, because desperation would not help him gain followers.
“Did you tell them of the benefits?” I asked, my question directed at Calder even though my eyes were on the others.
“What benefits?” A Vhiri man who must have been hundreds of years old due to the wrinkles creasing his bronzed skin looked to me for more.
“Any man or woman who joins us will be taught magic for free,” I started. The two men glanced at each other. “That goes for any school. Alteration, illusion, or elemental, though I'm sure many here already know alteration. Also, when it comes time to put people in power within the cities underground we will overtake, I'm sure those who risked their lives to gain the land will take precedent.”
“And who are you?” The other man asked, an Alderi who also looked to have a few centuries under his belt.
“Kai Sera, future ruler of Chairel.” I stuck out a hand, and the Vhiri man took it, an amused smile brightening one side of his face from my confidence.
“You are the one who started the war overseas,” he stated. “And won the Battle of the Dead, did you not?”
“I did, along with my Naharan allies. That is another benefit I offer to you. Under my rule, Chairel will lift its ban on magic. All types, including shapeshifting. I would offer your people an alliance.”
The Alderi man cocked his head toward Cerin and I. “If you are Kai Sera, you have necromancers among you.” He glanced toward the other man. “Their numbers would stand a chance.”
The Vhiri nodded. “We will think about it, Calder,” he finally decided. “It's been a little while since I've had a good fight.”
The two men left, and Calder turned his face toward me, though his eyes were still on the crowds ahead. “Thank you.”
“You have us, Calder,” I murmured, turning back toward our group. “You needn't confront all of this alone.”