Ooof! “Hey! Not so tight!” Ganbaatar yelled.
In response, Zolzaya yanked the leather strap on the light Guardian armor a little tighter. He glared down at her, and she grinned back at him as she spoke. “Stop complaining. It’s got to be tight, or it’ll slip when you’re moving. Besides, you always talked about how you would one day wear this armor. Well, now’s your chance.”
Ganbaatar muttered to himself, “Ya, just never expected it would be in this kind of situation…”
Zolzaya stood and slapped him on the back. The thick Elder Elk leather vest barely moved. She took a few steps back and admired her handiwork. Ganbaatar stared back as he took in Zolzaya, already fully geared in her own armor. Technically, these were training sets from the academy, but they were functional, and many of the Guardian scouts used similar sets.
Ganbaatar shook his head and asked the smiling young woman, “Why am I going again? I happen to agree with your father. This isn’t the kind of thing we should get involved in.”
Zolzaya frowned at him and crossed her arms. “Because if we don’t, who’s going to keep Yutu out of trouble? You know he’s a magnet for problems.”
“Hey! I resent that!” Yutu called from the spot where he lay on the grass, panting. Juatan had made him run laps around the Temple building in full armor to ensure he could move properly. If Yutu’s plan didn’t work, they needed to make sure they could get out of the way quickly. Ganbaatar’s turn was next.
Zolzaya rolled her eyes and smirked at Ganbaatar. “What happened to the brave Ganaa who stood in front of the Beast Lord? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a lit — ”
Ganbaatar threw his hands out and yelled, “Of course I’m afraid, Zaya! This isn’t a game! This isn’t some story in a book! This is way beyond anything we can handle. I fought the Beast Lord because that was the only choice I had. Because it was the only way I could protect you and the others and give you a slight chance of escaping. This is different. This isn’t brave, this is foolish! Why are you being so childish about this, Zaya?! This isn’t like you. Demanding to go along on what could be a suicide mission, arguing with your father when he’s just trying to prot — ”
“I DON’T WANT HIS PROTECTION!” Zolzaya snapped back, making the young man jump. Then, in a softer voice, she continued. “Or yours. I’m tired of being ‘protected,’ Ganaa. I’m tired of watching others die while I run away. Do you know what that’s like?! To see your friends and family throw away their lives and not be able to do anything about it?!”
Zolzaya looked down. Her white-knuckled hands shook, but a single tear fell to the ground as she whispered softly, “I refuse to sit quietly on the cart while others die. Not again.”
Ganbaatar’s heart twisted, and he reached out to the young woman, “Zaya, I…”
Zolzaya turned and marched away.
Ganbaatar froze. Yutu pushed himself up from the ground with a groan and said, “You know you’re an idiot sometimes, right, Ganaa?”
Ganbaatar lowered his hand and sighed, “Ya… I know…”
— — — — — — — —
Zolzaya crouched behind one of the academy wagons. The tears had dried, but that hadn’t helped her mood. Why had she snapped at Ganaa like that? Or her father, for that matter. She knew they were just trying to be reasonable. That they were worried about her. She didn’t need her gift to understand that.
But that had only made the guilt all that much worse.
“He’s right, you know…” Zolzaya flinched at the voice. She looked up to see Artemis leaning against the cart.
Zolzaya glared up at her. “I thought you were on my side?” she asked.
Artemis slid down beside her and stared into the dark night sky. The Darkest Night was almost at its peak. They’d have to move soon, or it would be too late.
After a silent moment, Artemis turned to Zolzaya and said, “You say that like there are sides to take. This isn’t a matter of ‘you versus them’. You can both be equally right.” She paused and withdrew a small dagger. On the surface, it appeared simple, little more than a carved tooth of some great beast, etched with runes, attached to an ornate black wood handle. Yet in Zolzaya’s scenes, the blade burned with spirit energy. It was an artifact, a powerful one at that.
Artemis lovingly stroked the blade’s surface, tracing the runes with her free hand. When she continued, her voice was soft. “Life is rarely about who’s right and who’s wrong. Often, the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Not always, but enough that a leader must be able to see things from all sides. ‘If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles,’ as the saying goes. That applies to all things, not just war. A leader doesn’t choose the right option; they choose the best one. Sometimes, that means going against the things we believe are the right choice for the sake of others. Be it bowing our head to someone lesser, retreating from a battle at the cost of your pride or reputation…”
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Artemis flipped the dagger into the air and caught it by the handle. “…or charging head first into a fight you know you might not walk away from. Life is about choices, and our choices will define who we are. That doesn’t mean other’s choices are wrong or lesser, only that they are different people with different understandings and goals. That’s what makes the world so interesting.”
Zolzaya smirked and chucked as she spoke. “Sounds like something a priest would say...”
Artemis laughed, a deep, hearty laugh. “I would imagine so. My mother was the one who taught me that lesson. She was always adamant that I understand other’s points of view before I passed my judgment on them. A younger me thought that was foolish. Of course there was right and wrong. Good and evil. What did it matter their reason? It was only later in life that I started to really understand.”
She turned and looked at Zolzaya with glassy eyes. “One bad year. That’s all it takes for a starving village to become bandits. The soldier doing his duty to one side is the pillager, and raider to the other. The wolf in the sheep pen has cubs to feed in her den. A true leader must understand why the enemy does what they do. Only then can they make the best choice in any situation. Even if it’s not one they agree with.”
Zolzaya turned away. After a moment, she asked. “Then what can you do? When the best choice isn’t the one you want? “
Artemis stared up at the obelisk and answered. “You do what you can.” Zolzaya frowned at the older woman, who chucked and continued. “I know, it sounds cliche, but it’s the truth.”
Zolzaya asked, “Does that actually help?”
Artemis sighed and said, “Sometimes? No. Bandits still need to be purged, soldiers repelled and wolves culled. Sometimes knowing the why of the matter doesn’t change anything. Sometimes you’re still forced to do things you’d rather not. But other times? You learn about the noble stealing from the villages, forcing them to starve. You learn of the battles being fought because of miscommunication. Sometimes you find a new companion, grateful for saving her pup’s lives. Sometimes knowing both stories changes nothing. But sometimes it can change everything.”
Artemis poked at a small ribbon tied into Zolzaya’s hair. “That’s pretty. My mother used to wear one like that.”
Zolzaya pulled the braid from her helmet and played with the thin green ribbon intertwined within.
“It was a… friend’s…” the young woman said.
Her mind drifted back to the young woman who’d braided it, Sarnai. The young woman had been one of the herbalists in her graduation group. Despite being the same age, Zolzaya hadn’t interacted with her before the trip. Oh, sure, she’d seen the woman around the village before. Slatewalker village was small enough that almost everyone knew everyone, especially the children of a similar age.
But the two had different friend groups, and Sarnai had always been the quiet and out-of-the-way sort, similar to Yutu. That had changed with the trip. The two of them had become quick friends, and Zolzaya had found the girl could be quite talkative when it was something she was interested in. Mostly hair and herbs, something they both could bond over.
Zolzaya had never had a close female friend before, and at the time, she’d thought it would be nice to have a relationship like her mother and Yutu’s had.
Then the Beast Lord attacked…
Sarnai had been hurt… badly. Nothing she or Kallik had done had helped. Zolzaya had held her even as the young woman slipped away.
Then, that quiet girl had asked her a favor.
She’d remembered Zolzaya bragging about the poison she was working on. It was a vile thing meant to kill Living Swamps. The pests could spread like weeds and were exceedingly hard to kill. They would regenerate the next year if you missed even a bit of root. The poison she was working on was still an experiment, but was designed to spread out and kill the entire thing before breaking down shortly after.
Zolzaya had seen the look in the girl’s eyes and had felt her determination with her gift. She’d known instantly what Sarnai was planning and had tried everything to convince her not to. But Sarnai knew she was dying and wouldn’t make it back to the village, regardless of whether they escaped. Instead of complaining about how unfair it was, the young woman had thanked Zolzaya. Thanked her for being the only real friend she had. Thanked her for the brief moment of happiness and for weeping for her when she was gone.
Nothing Zolzaya or any of the other survivors said could dissuade her. Sarnai would not step away from this last gift she could give to one of the few people who’d ever truly been kind to the strange, quiet little girl whom no one ever paid attention.
In the end, Zolzaya gave in to her stubborn friend’s request.
In the end, it hadn’t been the Beast Lord or his minions who had killed her new friend.
It had been Zolzaya and a small vial of poison.
The gentle smile on her friend’s body lying in the grass as the cart pulled away had broken something in Zolzaya. It had been the final blow that shattered a heart already cracked and splintered, barely holding together, from the loss of Yutu and Ganbaatar.
When they finally made it home, and it finally sunk in that they were safe, she made a vow to herself. She’d never let a friend do the same for her again. She’d never let someone else die in her stead. Zolzaya was tired of running away. It didn’t matter if she had to fight the very heavens themselves.
Or an army of the dead.
Zolzaya gripped the end of her braid tightly as tears slowly slid down her cheek. A solid thud snapped her out of her memories, and she flinched as Artemis slammed the carved tooth dagger into the side of the cart and stood.
She stared down at Zolzaya and spook, “Whatever you choose to do, better make it quick. It’s about time we got things rolling. Tears and regret have their place, but not on the battlefield. The only thing that belongs there is the determination to do what you must.”
She then turned and walked away.
Zolzaya stared after the woman as she disappeared into the gathered Guardians, then looked at the dagger still lodged in the side of the cart. After a long moment, Zolzaya stood and wiped away her tears. Artemis was right. She could feel sorry for herself or wallow in her regrets later. She had other things that needed doing now.
Zolzaya reached out, grabbed the hilt of the dagger, and pulled. Despite being buried half its length in the hardwood, the blade slid out as easily as if it were butter. She stared at the blade for a long moment, then pulled out her own dagger and placed it on the side of the cart before slipping the tooth dagger into the empty sheath.
This time, there would be no running away.
— — — — — — — —