by Rosie Scott
“Kai is the most-wanted woman on Arrayis,” Silas said softly. “As her lover, your death is highly sought.”
“Yes,” Cerin agreed, “and anyone who has seen Kai in battle knows that my death would have the potential to bring about the end of Arrayis. In that sense, I am the safest man in the world. Nothing escapes her wrath.”
“So I've heard,” Silas admitted, looking over at me. “Rumors made it to Chairel about the Battle of Highland Pass. There was a tornado so large in the cup of Eteri that Chairel's trading vessels traveling up the western coast could see its effects in the sky even at their distance. I've heard that the storm was yours.”
I nodded softly, feeling my gaze go distant with tragic memories. “I lost two people I loved that day.”
“Gods,” Silas murmured. Turning his attention back to Cerin, he said, “You are the safest man in the world.”
“You were with us for the takeover of Hallmar,” Cerin told him. “Even though you were in our supply camp during the battle, I'm sure you heard the earthquake.”
Silas nodded. “I heard multiple spells I figured belonged to Kai. The earthquake, meteor showers, lightning storms, magical explosions...” he trailed off and hesitated as he met my gaze. “I swore I even heard your screams. They did not sound human.”
“I'm not fully human,” I reminded him.
“No,” Silas agreed, “but in either case, it terrified me.” I said nothing, for I agreed with him. The first time I'd ever heard a god scream with such power, the raw inhuman howl had been alarming. “Kai...” Silas continued after a moment, appearing contemplative. “If we get to Celendar and they reject your requests for compromise, will you destroy it?”
“Silas, I don't go around looking for reasons to destroy things,” I replied. “I don't want Celendar destroyed. If they won't compromise, I will fight. When you have elemental mages fighting in a forest, there's a large risk for damages. I can't discount that Celendar may be blemished, but I will do my best to avoid it. That's why you're here with us.”
Silas sighed and said, “Yes, but I put little faith in my ability to accomplish the things you're wanting. I've agreed to be your guide and mediator, and I will do everything I can to make this mission of diplomacy a success. But I have no friends in Celendar any longer. What I say to them may hold no weight.”
“You are a Celd,” I argued lightly. “A Celd whom I've spared after I allowed their army in the last battle to withdraw. That is twice now I've proven to them I'm not a tyrant. With you telling them to compromise to save their forest while I'm standing in it, they would be stupid not to take the offer.”
“I agree with you, Kai,” Silas assured me. “I'm simply worried that if something goes wrong, the forest will be destroyed. I would never forgive myself if that were to happen. The trees of Celendar are ancient and unique. At one time thousands of years ago, the forest was almost utterly obliterated. My people have dedicated themselves to tending to it ever since. If my failure were to cause its destruction—”
“Your primary concern is the forest,” I surmised. “Not the people.”
“That would be my main concern, too, if the people treated me the way they treated him,” Cerin mused dryly.
Silas was quiet for a few seconds, seemingly appreciative of Cerin's sympathy. “Yes, Kai. I fear for the forest first. If we are to battle in Celendar, it will be due to the decisions made by Celds, not the trees. Let the people suffer the consequences. Not the forest.” After a hesitation, he added, “I realize this may be an odd request—”
“No.” I held out a hand to calm his explanation. “I don't care how odd the request is, because it is yours. No matter what happens in Celendar, I will ensure the forest lives on. It may be injured in battle, but if it is, it will persist and heal. Your reputation with Celendar is tarnished now, but I promise you that word will spread of your pleas to keep it safe from this war. You may have a future there yet, Silas.”
It was clear when Silas met my eyes that he didn't fully believe such a fate could belong to him. It was possible that after having such a downward spiral of tragic circumstances in his life, Silas no longer expected good things to happen to him. Even so, my ex-lover appreciated my words and my offer. I would hold true to my promise to repair Silas's reputation with his people even long after we left Celendar behind us. I felt it was the least I could do. After all, Silas had once told me he wouldn't be comfortable anywhere other than Celendar. With luck and time, I could help Silas find his way back to the home he was so fond of.
My love of history had taught me one thing most of all: history is not only written by the victors of war, but by the words of the people who seek to mold it to their wills. It was now common knowledge in Eteri that a Seran Renegade by the name of Anto Erikur had died from battle wounds defending his friends in the Battle of Highland Pass of 422. The reality was much more complex and painful, and only a select few knew it. I had hidden the truth to protect Anto's reputation, but it didn't matter why it was kept secret at all. The fact remained that due to the words of myself and a few other powerful leaders of history, a man I once knew and still loved had a story partially based in myth, and none of the history books were the wiser.
Similarly, the truth could not set Silas free. His past was too marred with mistakes and bad decisions to recover from so easily. Silas's words were not the reason I planned to keep the forest safe, because I never wanted to destroy it at all. But the history of my arrival in Celendar was not yet written. I could still mold it to my will. If it came to a battle in the Cel Forest, I would allow the people to think I had every intention of destroying it if it weren't for Silas's intervention. Silas's reputation could be repaired, and perhaps he could finally be at peace. It would be my way of making amends for his ails because he'd wanted nothing else that I'd offered him. Such a plan would harm my reputation with Celendar, but it had never mattered to me what people thought of me. Lies and rumors spread about me for years, and none of them had stopped me from achieving everything I had. Thus, risking giving the Celds another reason to fear me was not much of a risk at all. They already feared me for my use of necromancy and my willingness to wage war to achieve my goals; checking off another fear on their list would change nothing.
I was confident in my ability to overcome any tribulations thrown my way. On the contrary, Silas was broken by the events of this war. Despite our differences and the fact that we'd grown apart over the years, forming such a goal was my way of protecting him in the only way I still could.
Our journey continued, and soon, the gotton berries weren't the only things overwhelming me with nostalgia from my home country. The wildlife changed. The boars we'd been so used to eating in Fremont did not wander this far west of the border. Instead, herds of deer roamed the grasslands at night, and I could often see flocks of prairie pheasants running away from our armies before escaping our path in short-lived flights. Azazel hunted both, and while the flavors of the meats filled Cerin, Nyx, and me with nostalgia, it was a completely new experience for everyone else. Azazel also hunted a few field mice, but he claimed the meat could not compare to rat. Rat meat was one of the few things Azazel missed from the underground, but he seemed satisfied when I informed him that rats also sometimes lived in the surface cities. As much as I grew tired of eating rat during my time underground, enough years had passed that I craved its flavor.
Cyrus and the other Vhiri teased me about the creatures of Chairel, for the wildlife here was often primitive when compared to the rest of the world. Uriel would only refer to the deer as mini-ceros because he found it humorous that they were essentially much smaller versions of the grazing animals of Eteri. I was quick to inform them that Chairel had its share of beast issues, and Cerin told them stories about facing vampires and wyverns. When that did not impress since Eteri had both creatures as well, I reminded them that Chairel's problems revolved around humanoid beings, not beasts. Orcs had always been Chairel's greatest internal threat, and they utilized other
green-skinned creatures like goblins and ogres in their armies. Such foes were native to Chairel, though during our time in Fremont we'd heard that Griswald had run-ins with orcs in recent decades. Perhaps they were attempting to migrate. Orcs had always lived in the forests and mountains, and that was part of the reason they'd been content to stay in Chairel. But they were also power hungry, and Fremont had its share of attractive land for them to claim.
Thinking about the orcs made me ponder the possibility that we would come across them during our campaign in Chairel. In wars past, orcs were attracted to sounds of battle and would often join fights just to take part in senseless bloodshed. Sometimes, this led to the orcs having a hand in altering the course of history. There was a time early in the Golden Era when Nahara and Chairel had been at war over territory, for both countries were still developing. A great city by the name of Grier belonged to Chairel, and it was located on the southeastern-most mountain of the Golden Peaks. By all historical accounts, Grier was Chairel's prized possession, and they would later build Sera in its likeness. Grier was also the city closest to the Naharan Border, and its location in mountains plentiful with gold veins made it the richest settlement in the world. The ancient Naharan Army had invaded Chairel intending to take Grier for themselves. History books I'd read as a child claimed both sides had the support of various gods, but because I hadn't believed in myth at the time, I hadn't retained their names. Regardless, Nahara seized Grier, and the remaining Chairel Army tried to retreat to the north. They soon fled back to Grier when they were met head-on by a great army of mountain orcs attracted to the sounds and smells of battle. The fleeing Chairel Army unwittingly led the orcs straight into the war-torn Grier, where both wounded armies and the city itself were utterly destroyed by the orcish war party. The orcs had little interest in the gold or civilization of Grier; they'd simply wanted to fight, so they'd slaughtered two armies in their bloodlust.
They never rebuilt Grier. Chairel eventually commissioned the same dwarves who'd had knowledge of its architecture to build Sera, and the city of magic soon rose to be the country's favored. When my home country risked constructing a new settlement in the Golden Peaks to once again take advantage of the rich resources there, they'd built Narangar farther north of the ruins of Grier in the range's middle, using the land as a natural defense against future attacks. One simple battle thousands of years ago had shaped the futures of Chairel and Nahara drastically, which was part of the reason war had always fascinated me. My knowledge of that battle was also the reason I feared the orcs getting involved with my own goals. Lust for war had given me many victories, and orcs were similarly motivated. If they offered my armies resistance in the coming years, it was possible they could sway the tide in Chairel's favor despite having no loyalties to either side.
Anto was at the forefront of my mind as the Cel Forest loomed like a wall to the west just a fortnight before we arrived, for he'd told me how his Celdic father had been so fond of it, and he'd always wished to visit. The bottle hanging from my neck holding Anto's hair warmed between my fingers as I held it, desperate to be as close to him as I could while I experienced something he'd never had a chance to. The Cel Mountains had only recently appeared far in the distance to the northwest, but the forest put the landmarks to shame. Even when this far away, the giant pearl-white trees stretched so far into the sky that I nearly thought it was a mirage, for I could not believe what my eyes were seeing. These trees dwarfed many of the mountains I'd traveled through, their highest branches getting lost in the fog of the lowest clouds.
It was the 72nd of New Moon, 430, when we finally marched so close to the forest that I could hear the chatter of its wildlife. For days now, our armies had been lost in its shadow. Our soldiers were extraordinarily quiet. For the first time since the giant tortoise revealed itself in Nahara, I experienced what it was like to lead an army silent with awe.
The rolling plains of southeastern Chairel flattened just before the forest. A breeze blew in from the east, causing the long grasses to bow toward the woodland's glory. The Cel Forest was tallest at its center. The eldest trees bullied the skies into submission, glimmering pearl-white branches thrusting vibrant green sinuate leaves the size of men into its clouds. The greenery in the sky shimmered in shades of silver from constant condensation, reflecting the sun's glare as if the trees themselves offered light.
We could not yet see the trunks of the largest trees, for it appeared the Cel Forest grew outward from its center. The nearest plants were the smallest, for they were only ten-stories tall. Anywhere else in the world, such trees would have been impressive in their own right. Near Celendar, however, they were merely saplings. Their pearl-white trunks were approximately thirty feet in circumference and unnaturally straight. Most of the branches sprouted out from the top third of the trees, leaving the forest floor clear of inhibiting brush. The youngest of the Cel trees were planted at regular intervals on the edge of the forest by Celdic elves who knew just how large they would eventually grow.
As we approached the forest, signs of the trees having been recently tended to were abundant. Some plants were held in place by handmade contraptions that encouraged them to grow straight from rough, crooked starts. Many of the saplings glistened with recent rainfall even though the skies had been clear for the past few days of our journey, proof of the care of water mages. Colorful nutritious alchemical concoctions scattered over the soil around each plant to fructify its roots.
Dozens if not hundreds of Celds were in charge of tending to the newest trees day and night, but for now, the gardeners had been pulled from the edge of the forest. Even though it was late-New Moon, the temperature was cool while we stopped our army in the shadow just at the edge of the woodland that stood like a wall blocking us passage. Mere yards away and standing in the embrace of their treasured forest stood a small army of a few hundred Celds. The unit was led by none other than Saffron Willis, the general I'd reasoned with at the end of the Battle of the Southern Plains.
Saffron's deep brown eyes traveled over our massive army. She noted the legions of Alderi, and it was clear by the memories that flashed through her eyes that she connected their them to the beastmen who were present for our last battle. Her gaze moved upward, catching on the army of giants. It was ironically our smallest unit, but perhaps she was thinking about the damage the giants could do to the forest. The general's eyes fell upon Silas with surprised recognition before they finally came to me.
“Kai Sera,” Saffron greeted hesitantly. “You have come.”
There was a distance to her voice I picked up on and found noteworthy. Saffron had sounded strong but defeated the last time we'd spoken, but she'd also been open to conversation. Today, something was different. She was reserved, hesitant. It was possible this was just due to the fact that I was here and she was fearful. It was also possible that she was privy to plans that I was not. Saffron had accepted my offer of retreat during our battle. Like Silas before her, she may have become a scapegoat with which to bear blame and consequence for that decision.
Noting that many of the Celds behind Saffron lightly fingered their weapons, I chose my words carefully. “I have come to compromise, not to fight.”
“You have come to compromise with one hundred thousand men?” Saffron questioned, her eyes traveling over the masses again as she estimated the army's size.
“With one hundred and fifty thousand, yes,” I replied, to which her eyes moved nervously back to me. “I will remind you of what I said the last time we spoke. These soldiers are meant for Chairel. Not for Celendar. If you work with me for peace, I will not only march these men into your forest, but each one of them will leave with me through the other side.”
“And what of Silas Galan?” Saffron asked, eyeing the shackles on his wrists. “He is your hostage?”
“I prefer the term mediator,” I said. “I care for Silas, and Silas cares for this forest and his home. He knows Celendar's desires and he knows mine. I'd like to come to an a
greement with you.” When the other woman said nothing, I asked, “Did you relay my message to the leaders of Celendar?”
“I did,” Saffron replied.
“Did they give you a message to give to me in return?” I prodded.
Saffron exhaled thickly as she gazed over our armies once more. Her eyes were disturbed and calculating all at once, and she said, “Celendar will negotiate with you. On our terms.”
I did not flinch. “Which terms would those be?”
“The royal families request you and your Seran Renegades come to them alone. Marching your armies into Celendar will be considered an act of war.” Saffron's gaze wavered as she watched me for a response.
“Your confidence falters, Saffron,” I commented. “Even you know those terms are unacceptable.”
Saffron's nostrils flared anxiously, and she stood up straighter. “I have done as you've asked. These are my orders.”
“They may very well be your orders, and you have followed them,” I acknowledged. “That doesn't mean I have to accept. I reject Celendar's terms. We are already at war. The threats of royalty hold no weight. Celendar is currently under Chairel's rule, and I am at war with Chairel. Right now, I'm offering Celendar a quick and easy path to the exit of this spat that I have not offered to anyone else. The very idea that Celdic royalty thinks they can throw such illogical terms my way when I offered your army leniency after your defeat in the Southern Plains is astonishing and insulting.”
The Celdic soldiers behind Saffron fidgeted. Their leader noticed this as much as I did and replied, “Our forest is sacred. My people do not take kindly to the idea that a large army of unknowns could trample through and kill off that which we work so fervently to keep alive.”
I chuckled humorlessly. “Don't pretend that is Celendar's true reasoning for requesting what they have. I understand the Celds want to protect their forest. Perhaps that is why they wish I leave my army outside. If their plan is to ambush and kill off the Seran Renegades without the support of our army, they think the forest will be safe from retaliation because our rebellion will be leaderless.” I hesitated and glanced back at my allies. “Cyrus, come forward.”