"I'm afraid not today, my friend." Balar knelt close, blood dripping from his nose.

With a flick, he transmuted earth to smother the flames burning Mataram's clothes. Once finished, the older man released his transmutation, revealing Mataram's burned chest.

"Shit," Balar cursed, assessing the damage. "We need to get you help immediately." He secured the horn onto his penis, and Mataram could not stop himself from laughing.

"You killed the bitch with a fucking penis gourd," Mataram wheezed between painful chuckles.

"Yes. But we'll laugh about it later," Balar replied, dragging Mataram to the other end of the hallway.

"Leave me," Mataram rattled a whisper.

"Can't do that," Balar waved. "My wife will die without you," he said sarcastically, although Mataram knew it was mixed with the truth.

Mataram rechecked his transmutation, ensuring that he had not accidentally stopped. "If you put it that way, I guess I'll need to live."

"Just another day in hell," Balar commented.

Balar stopped, and Mataram looked to his side. Teh was holding her mother the same way Balar was holding him.

"I'm going to transmute," Balar said. "We'll be out shortly."

"Could've told me you were a sorcerer. It would've made going down easier," Mataram gibed, croaking.

"The same reason you didn't tell me," Balar smirked. "Enough talk. You need to focus and conserve your energy. We'll talk later once we're out of here."

The ground beneath them began to shift, and he felt it lift upwards. After a while, the ground stopped. They were not at the surface yet. Balar began to drag Mataram to the side into a tunnel. His daughter followed after. Too occupied with his transmutation and too tired, Mataram groaned.

"We are very close to the top. We are crawling the rest of the way. We would not want to spook your friends waiting outside," Balar explained.

Mataram nodded as he was dragged. He reckoned Balar was using his sorcery as they moved far too fast for an average rat.

"We got wounded!" Balar yelled as the sunlight began to shine on Mataram's eyes. Mataram squinted and stared at the sunset.

There were yells and orders calling for a medic by the Akar knights. He felt several hands lifted him onto a stretcher. He heard murmurs and whispers of the bloody whore by the knights around him. He ignored them, enjoying the purple and red colours of the sunset.

"You can let go now," Mataram heard Balar's voice.

A hand touched his shoulder gently. "You can let go of your transmutation. My wife is in safe hands."

Mataram nodded and stopped his sorcery. His head swam, and his whole body burned, especially his chest. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

------------

Mataram woke up slowly, eyes crusty and throat dry. He heard voices murmuring around him.

"He's awake," Mataram heard a woman say.

"I'll let her know," another woman replied.

Mataram looked up. He was inside a white tent. He could smell ointments and salt in the air. He tried to get up, but his muscles were stiff, and he struggled. Instinctively, he began transmuting tenaga into the air.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he heard a familiar woman's voice. "Help him up," the woman ordered.

Hands lifted Mataram's back onto a seating position. It took a moment for him to blink away the blur in his vision.

"Drink," the woman ordered.

Mataram felt a straw against his lips, and he drank the water. Once he was finished, someone pulled the cup away.

"Do you remember me, Mataram?" the woman asked.

Mataram did. Her scarred face was difficult to forget. He opened his mouth, but he could not remember her name.

"Isha Batuswadi," Isha said. "If it makes you feel better, I forgot your name too. I got it through seeing your papers," she waved a scroll in one hand.

"How long was I out?" Mataram asked. He noticed the armband she wore. Green with gold outlines. "Major," he added.

"Four days," she replied. "It'll take you a few more to fully physically recover."

"I mean no offence, ma'am. But why are you here? Surely a major have more important things to attend to than a rat," Mataram questioned.

"None taken," Isha replied. "I am here to confirm words that the Datar who had come with you told us," she pointed a thumb behind her.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Only then did Mataram recognise Balar standing behind the major. He looked so different. His hair was trimmed neatly, and he wore cotton tunics and trousers. He smiled and waved at Mataram, who nodded.

"What do you want to know?" Mataram asked.

Isha stretched a hand, and someone handed her a paper. "When you were the only one that came out without your squad, beaten and bloody. We thought you had been betrayed."

"You arrested them? The Datars, I mean," Mataram asked. He saw Balar nodding cheerfully.

"We detained them," Isha corrected him. "We gave them the necessary help. They are alive and well," she added before Mataram could ask.

'Thank you,' Balar mouthed behind the woman.

"Another rat went in and confirmed his statements. They found twelve bodies of Srajaya knights, including their captain. A fire elementalist." Isha continued.

"Yes, that sounds about right," Mataram concurred.

Isha narrowed her eyes. "So you are telling me that you killed all those knights and a sorcerer all by yourself?"

"Balar helped," Mataram pointed out. He watched the older man, who had begun to shake his head profusely. Mouthing 'no.'

Isha followed Mataram's eyes and looked over her shoulder at Balar. Balar turned still and gave her a warm smile.

"He helped lead the way and with the traps, I mean," Mataram coughed.

Isha turned back to face Mataram. "There were clear signs of a battle. I'm not trying to put you down, but it isn't easy to believe that you took out that many knights and a sorcerer. Not to mention you were alone."

"I've been diving alone for weeks, ma'am. I'm not sure why this would be a surprise?" Mataram raised an eyebrow.

"And why have you been alone?"

Mataram thought she should be asking someone else about this. "Because I have not been issued any," he said lamely, unsure what to say.

"And why did you not apply?" Isha raised her right eyebrow.

"I didn't know I needed to do that," he meandered slowly.

The major pinched the bridge of her nose, whispering curses Mataram did not recognise.

"When I asked your captain the same thing, he said the bloody whore works alone," she finally said, mimicking the deep voice of Captain Ragnar.

Her annoyed expression and her scarred face made her an imposing figure. Mataram felt it would be better to keep his mouth shut.

"And how did you earn the name the bloody whore?" She asked and immediately raised a hand. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

Isha sighed, and that was when Mataram recognised her tiredness: her unkempt and greasy hair, her dirty clothes, and the large bags underneath her eyes.

"Just tell me how you did it. Are you a master sorcerer? A Bhayangkara?" she asked every time Mataram shook his head. "Blessed by the Garuda?" she asked rhetorically.

Maybe, Mataram thought but shook his head. "I'm just a regular wind elementalist," he finally said.

"You're a what?" she asked, puzzled.

"A wind elementalist, ma'am. From the Academy."

Isha unrolled the scroll containing Mataram's background and began reading through it. She groaned. "It says here that you are a non-sorcerer."

"That's not true." Mataram pointed at his duvet, and it fluttered lightly. "I thought you knew, which was why you stopped me from transmuting earlier."

"I didn't," she tightened her jaw, crumpling the scroll. "Apparently, there was a mistake."

"How can it be?" Mataram asked, confused. "I was picked up at the Academy. Only sorcerers go there."

"Not according to your scroll," Isha answered. "Those officers in HQ are bloody useless." She took a cup from a nearby table and chugged the contents down.

"So what now, ma'am?" Mataram asked.

Isha eyed him, her eyes drifting across his body. "Sorcerers your size are rare. And even rarer, a rat. I want you to be the new captain of the rats. Your success rate speaks for itself."

"What about Captain Ragnar?"

"Dead."

Mataram still hesitated. "What about his second in command? Shouldn't he get it?"

"I've met her. She's incompetent," Isha replied bluntly.

Mataram thought carefully about it. He has seen bad captains and good captains. He thought of which one he would fall under. "I must respectfully decline, Major."

Isha looked surprised at his rejection.

"If you point me to a tunnel and order me to clear it. I can do it. But that is all I can provide currently. I'm not fit to lead," Mataram explained.

The major nodded at his explanation. "I can respect that. It's not often I meet someone who can admit their flaws."

Mataram nodded.

"Then how about unofficially then," she suggested.

"What do you mean?"

"We're about to launch a large operation. And I want you there when we plan it, not as a captain, but as the rat that will go in first. You will lead by example. And that is all."

Mataram nodded. "I can do that, ma'am."

Isha smiled, satisfied. "Then by the power that had been granted to me. I, Major Isha Batuswadi, promote Mataram Rakur to Special Lieutenant."

-----------------------

"What did you say to her?" Mataram asked Balar once they were alone.

"The truth," Balar replied, taking a seat. "Most of it, anyway."

"Your wife?"

"She's alive and resting. Your healers said that she may never speak again." The older man shrugged. "She's been mute since the day she was born. I doubt she'll mind."

The two giggled at the joke.

"So, what now, Special Lieutenant Mataram Rakur?" Balar teased.

Mataram frowned. "I haven't used that name in a while," he muttered.

Balar smiled understandingly. "You should use whichever name helps you get through. Personally, The Bloody Whore has been growing on me."

Mataram smiled bitterly. "It was the name my squadmates gave me before they died. Whore that is. The other rats added the bloody part later on."

"Then it is a powerful name," Balar replied. "It carries the sacrifice of your allies."

"Yeah," Mataram said softly. "It does."

"Oh," Balar opened his pack and pulled out a brown cloth. "My daughter and I made this for you as a way for us to say thanks." He handed the cloth to Mataram.

Mataram noticed that it was heavy, as he accepted it. "Thank you," he thanked the man before opening it.

"Ayyyee, thank me after you see it."

Mataram unfolded the cloth, his breath catching as he uncovered the item. It was a boomerang, sleek and elegant, with scabbards affixed to each end. He carefully slid one blade free, holding it up to examine it. The green crystal blade shimmered in the light, intricate veins coursing through it like frozen lightning bolts. "It's incredible," Mataram murmured, his voice hushed in awe.

"I know you would like it," Balar smiled. "We thought it would work well with your abilities. You'll be able to redirect it wherever you want."

"Thank you," Mataram muttered, continuing to eye the boomerang.

"Oh, and I recommend that you use a glove. The blades are very sharp," Balar warned.

"What is it made of?" Mataram asked, sheating the boomerang.

"Nephrite," Balar exclaimed out loud. He then leans close to Mataram's ear. "It's a mixture of different stones. I used sorcery to make it happen. It should be stronger than the average steel. And don't worry about the cost; I stole the materials from the Western Alliance."

Mataram chuckled at the last bit. His explanation brought to mind a question that Mataram wanted to ask.

"Why are you hiding your sorcery?" Mataram whispered.

"I am tired of fighting, my friend," Balar whispered sadly. "I have been fighting my whole life. I want to stop."

Mataram nodded. "Your secret is safe with me."

The older man leaned in and kissed Mataram's forehead. "I need to go now and take care of my family. Thank you for bringing them back to me safely. It is a debt I can never repay."

Mataram lifted the boomerang. "I think it's been paid with interest."

Balar smiled and whispered. "My family and I are leaving on the first ship."

Mataram raised his eyebrow.

"I may have also used the stolen coins to bribe one of the crew mates," the man admitted.

Mataram smiled. "Then try to avoid cities or even settlements for a while. I heard there are drafts happening throughout the Empire."

Balar nodded. "Don't worry. I have it all planned."

"It's goodbye then, my friend," Mataram stretched his hand.

Balar's eyes widened. "That was the first time you called me your friend," he said as he shook Mataram's hand.

Mataram thought he ought to feel sad that Balar was leaving. He was the man who had taken him out of his self-loathing. But the truth was, he was nothing but glad. Sunda was hell, and it seemed like it was only going to get worse.

"Stay safe, Balar."

"You too, Bloody Whore. You are a good man. No matter what you think."

"Thank you," Mataram thanked earnestly.

--------------

Long after Balar left and the sun disappeared, Mataram felt his disgust rise. The weak groans and painful screams of the wounded drowned the field hospital. They reminded him where he was and what he was fighting against. Lycan and Lorena was right. Sunda was horrible. They turned men into monsters.

He held the boomerang in his hands, and it reminded him of bitter thoughts. He had always seen his enemies as nameless, faceless adversaries. Now, they had names, families, and fears.

So did his squadmates, Mataram thought: Guppy, Buttercup, Cutie, Scissoring, and Eunuch. They all had names, families, and fears. And so did Mataram. Tears threatened to fall as he remembered his father and his sister. He was afraid. Afraid that he would not feel their embrace again. Afraid because he would die, unable to protect them.

When he closed his eyes and drowned out the noise, he could still remember his mother's voice. He had long since forgotten her face, but he would never forget her voice singing bedtime lullabies for him. It was the only thing he remembered.