Zagul thought that telling to keep his identity a secret until he met the Quadähd in person would be hard, challenging and tricky, since… well… Cantler just met him, so asking this out of the blue wasn't the best thing, the Lacerta knew that. The Leader seemed suspicious and cautious even to his own shadow. So to a foreigner? One that matches a lot of the descriptions the Chief got about the enemy Lacerta? It was not going to be that easy.

It was that easy.

Cantler walked through the main entrance, presenting Henry as a trustworthy ally from a few favors he asked a while ago, an obvious lie, but every denizen bought the story as if he already told it countless times. Within a few minutes, Zagul was a long-time friend of the Camp, and everyone seemed to be alright seeing him walk around unattended. They met him, asked a few questions, then didn't bother anymore, almost as if he didn't care of the fact he arrived was like a family member saying he arrived from a long day of work. They offered some hospitality, although it was decided politely, both by the Lacerta and Cantler as he was in a hurry.

Zagul was honestly baffled by how this went, because no way in heaven and hell did they just… let him in. It was crazy to think that they have information about him, but a simple change of name and attitude can make him… fine? This has to be a joke, right?

Right???

Queue Zagul in the Chief's tent, deadpan, being offered a drink that was served in a coconut cup while Cantler told some stories or jokes to the people inside.

“You gotta be kidding.”

After a while, the other members of the camp left to do their errands, the other more serious guys coming, Banary being one, a guard and the Chief, who was still missing as he was busy. The Advisor gave a long stare to the Lacerta, unsure if she should call someone or wait to see what happens. Zagul could tell that she was conflicted and confused, thanks to her age as the woman didn't know what to do. The other guard opted to stay up in case he needed to do something. Cantler was whistling as he double-checked the map and the instructions within.

If Zagul had a plan to play double agent? That was thrown out of the window… well, tent, as this was impossible to do right now.

“The Vale, Henry.”, The Young Sylph squinted his eyes at the map, “Both good and bad, but far enough to make tactical retreats.”

If Cantler wanted to stop the awkward silence, he managed to do it perfectly, Zagul backing up his analysis, “True, but as I said, it is possible to use the terrain for your advantage.”

“We live here longer than the Waxenians do, that's for sure.”, The guard gave a small comment, not sure if it helped or not.

“What are you all discussing?”, Banary asked, still suspicious.

“What my father told me to do, duh.”, Cantler shrugged offhandedly, “Besides, I guess Henry here can help us plan.”

“And you trust him?”, She pointed at him, but not because it was a stranger, but a Lacerta.

“Ow.”, Zagul played along with his new persona, faking being hurt at the remark.

It worked flawlessly.

“No offense.”, Banary added, but looked back at the Chief's son, “And another thing, is this one doing it for a good reason? For all I know he can be tricking us, even more that the Waxenians also have a Lacerta at their side.”

“Don't talk about me like I ain't here.”, The Lacerta frowned, this time actually annoyed that the Sylph woman seemed to ignore him partially.

“He has a reason, yes. But he asked me to not question if as he is going to reveal to my Father.”, Cantler seemed to mimic the let's ignore him for now attitude.

“Hey! Fuck you two!”, That comment had a hint of genuine anger, but it was mostly to keep his attitude.

A different way to go about the problem would probably have different results. He hoped at least.

“Then tell me what's your reason to help us. Is it to get paid? A favor? A woman?”

Zagul quirked a brow at her, “No, not a woman. I… I don't plan on getting another relationship.”

“Why?”, This time Cantler asked, a bit curious about why the Lacerta refused an offer he would gladly take.

Even if just for a few days. Can't have the same woman forever.

Zagul stayed silent for a while, which almost made Cantler ask him to answer but a stern look of Banary shut him before the words came out. That wasn't a lie, that was a genuine reaction, he wasn't going to want another partner for a long ass time, maybe not ever. Last time the lizard had a wife, she took everything that was and wasn't hers, even when he loved and cared for their state, she just wasn't satisfied, always wanting more. In the end, Zagul became a slave thanks to a flawed legal system and the double standards society has, allowing a man to be imprisoned for crimes he didn't commit and with no evidence to actually accuse him of such.

It didn't help the fact that the Lacerta wasn't actually a good manager of money. He did investments that in the end were fraudulent or ghost companies, tried new selling methods with some merchants, only for it to backfire, tried real estate only to lose his once big mansion to get a tiny house… It was a time when Zagul was immature and thought the world was an easy place as long as you had investments. His father died young so he inherited the money with little to no knowledge of how to actually use it, and when he asked his so-called friends to help him, they turned their back and left, leaving the Lacerta to deal with his own problems.

The next decade was spent getting humbled. Hard.

He wasn't the once powerful and financially independent man he once was, just another scaly trash that had some use for someone with enough weight on their bag of coins. Zagul was sold and bought many times, some people being decent and others real fucking monsters, odds and ends, shits and giggles, trials and tribulations. It was so unbearable sometimes that he thought that ending his life would make it stop, but he couldn't do that, not with the fucking rune in his neck prohibiting him from doing so. That's a big reason why he became so racist as the years passed, because he could only see the deep, dark and unhinged desires of each species.

Hell, Zagul probably has left a few children in some poor woman, just because a sick pervert wanted to see the poor girl be raped.

Then, after years of suffering, he met a certain Wood Elf putting some crates of wine in a storehouse. He decided to take his anger on him, ask to go to the fight pits and blow off some steam. But when he met the fucker, he was… calm. He didn't want to fight, and even when threatened, by breaking the wine bottles, he still decided to refuse. He was going to give some hell when they fought in the pits, but even then, it was incredibly surprising that he was way more dangerous and insane than Zagul himself.

Connor. The new cellmate of Yuri.

And we know what happened after.

“Sorry, Henry.”, Banary said genuinely, “Didn't mean to drag bad memories.”

“It's fine.”, Zagul gave a wry smile, “Stuff like this happens.”

The tent's entrance opened as the Elder Sylph eyed the residents, one in particular bringing both a frown and the other getting the immediate treatment someone might get that is minimally similar to a suspect of a crime.

“Pin him down!”, Quadähd ordered and the guard immediately ran to complete the task.

Zagul offered the kind of resistance a civilian might give when someone ran to tackle them, which is to act confused and then desperate at why he was getting attacked all of a sudden. Of course, all part of the act.

“What the—.”

*Crunch*

Before he could say anything his head was pinned against the floor, making him moan in pain at the impact.

“Boy!”, Quadähd yelled Lord enough for Cantler to stop looking at the map and focus now on the room, “What were you thinking!?”

Cantler who was still processing what just happened, became irritated at his father.

Nothing new here.

“Father! What are you doing?!”he said, trying to push the guard aside, but he maintained his footing firmly, “Let him go!”

The Chief grabbed the shoulder of his son, strong and rapid, turning his face to his own, “What were you thinking?! Didn't we just discuss about this?! Are you so unaware of your own situation?!?”

“Father! Let him go!”

“Listen kid—!”

“Don't you listen kid me! Do you kick or punch everyone that is brought to your home!?! You don't even know what is happening and you are acting like this!”

“I KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING YOU MISERABLE SACK OF SHIT!”

…

…

…

…

“Fine.”, Cantler just left the tent. He wasn't in the mood. He didn't want to deal with this. Not anymore.

Quadähd took a few seconds to realize that he maybe went a bit too far with this one, running to go after his son. As soon as he opened the tent, he saw his son use the Sky Scraper Stone, flapping his wings away at the sky. He wanted to run, to go after him, to stop his young stupid mind of doing something he is absolutely going to regret, but now that he was with the gem, he was gone, and the Elder Sylph could only hope it wasn't for long. He was a father, yes, but at the same time he was a Chief. If he left to seek his son, he might as well say that the war shouldn't be fought, pack everything up and leave, admitting defeat, something little if not a single one would get behind, not in a tribe at least. But the back of his mind wanted to got after him, and another wanted to stay.

He entered the tent, looking at the Lacerta, still pinned down, “You.”

“Me?”, Zagul managed to blurt out, albeit muffled.

Banary was perplexed, the guard was already holding a blade to kill the Lacerta if the order was given, the Chief looked angry, nervous and unstable. Yet he breathed in and out, calming himself enough so that he could think straight at least.

“What is your business here?”, Quadähd asked, barely keeping it together.

Zagul answered, but thanks to his mouth still being on the ground, only muffled words could be heard. The Chief sighed.

“Let him speak.”

With that the guard allowed the Lacerta to sit down, but still kept a hold of him.

“I want to make a bargain.”, Zagul answered, “Name's Henry, by the way.”

“Henry…”, Quadähd said, pondering…

Quadähd studied the Lacerta in front of him, trying to piece together the truth behind those sharp eyes. The anger from moments before still simmered beneath his calm exterior, but he forced himself to focus. "A bargain," he repeated, his tone laced with skepticism. "And what, exactly, do you have to offer that would make me trust you?"

Zagul—Henry—straightened his posture, despite the firm grip of the guard still holding him. "Information, Chief. I know the Waxenians better than most, including their plans, their weaknesses, and their strategies. You might not trust me, but the enemy already sees me as expendable. I’m a liability to them, and that makes me valuable to you."

Quadähd’s eyes narrowed. "And why should I believe a word you say? A Lacerta is already advising them, possibly feeding them lies, and now you appear, claiming to have just the right information to turn the tide in our favor? Forgive me if I’m not immediately convinced."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

A Lacerta? Does that mean they don't know who?

Don't mind if he does.

Henry let out a low, humorless chuckle. "Fair point, but ask yourself this—why would I risk coming here, knowing full well I might end up with a knife in my throat?” He glanced at the blade that was in fact, near his throat, “The Waxenians don’t tolerate traitors, and they certainly don’t let anyone walk away unscathed. I’m here because I’ve got nothing left to lose, and maybe, just maybe, something to gain by helping you."

The Chief remained silent, his gaze unwavering as he weighed Henry’s words. Banary and the guard exchanged uncertain glances, sensing the tension in the air.

“You think you can outsmart them?” Quadähd finally asked, voice cold.

“I think I know them well enough to predict their next move,” Henry replied. “The Waxenians are confident—too confident. They believe they have you cornered, that your tribe is on its last legs. That arrogance is their weakness. If we can exploit it, we might have a chance.”

Quadähd leaned forward, his face inches from Henry’s. "You claim to be a friend, a savior, even. But if you betray us, if this is some kind of trap, you won’t live long enough to regret it."

Henry met his gaze with equal intensity. "Understood, Chief. But I’m not here to betray anyone. I’m here because I have something to gain. Your fight with them? It's gonna benefit me more than you can imagine.”

The tent fell into a heavy silence, the weight of the decision hanging in the air. Finally, Quadähd stepped back, his expression still guarded. "Fine. I’ll hear what you have to say. But remember this, Henry—you’re on thin ice. One misstep, and I won’t hesitate to end you."

Henry nodded, his expression serious. "Fair enough. I wouldn’t expect anything less."

Quadähd motioned for the guard to release Henry fully. The guard hesitated, then complied, keeping a watchful eye on the Lacerta as he did.

Banary, still on edge, crossed her arms. "So what’s the plan, Henry? If you have information, now’s the time to share it."

Henry dusted himself off and took a deep breath. "The Waxenians are planning to push you into the Vale, force you into a position where the terrain works against you, but also against them. They’re betting on the narrow passes and the difficult landscape to slow you down, to make it harder for them to pick anyone off."

"We know the Vale," Quadähd interrupted, his voice firm. "We’ve lived here longer than they have."

"Exactly," Henry agreed, nodding. "And that’s why you need to use that knowledge to your advantage. They expect you to fight defensively, to be on the back foot. But if you prepare the Vale to be your battleground—set traps, create false trails, and lead them into ambushes—you can turn their confidence into a downfall."

Quadähd listened, his eyes narrowing as he considered the Lacerta's proposal. "You think we can outmaneuver them?"

Henry met his gaze steadily. "I think it’s your best shot. They’re expecting you to retreat, to be on the run. If you make them believe they have you cornered, you can turn the tables when they least expect it."

Quadähd finally nodded, “It might work, but it's going to take five days to prepare everything.”

Five days? Perfect.

Henry nodded thoughtfully, recognizing the challenge. "Five days is cutting it close, but it’s doable if you have the right people in place. I can help coordinate the setup, ensuring every trap and false trail is laid out perfectly. But we’ll need to be fast, and everyone will have to work around the clock."

Banary looked between the two, her skepticism fading slightly, replaced with the determination of someone who knew the stakes. "We’ll need to involve every able-bodied Sylph in the camp. The Vale is vast, and covering enough ground to make this plan work will require everyone’s effort."

Quadähd considered this, his mind already racing through the logistics. "We’ll split the tribe into teams, each responsible for a different section of the Vale. I’ll assign our best hunters to set the traps—no one knows the land better than they do. Banary, you’ll oversee the construction of decoys and false trails."

"Understood, Chief," Banary replied, a spark of resolve in her eyes.

Henry interjected, "I’ll take charge of the ambush points. We’ll need to create positions where your fighters can strike quickly and then disappear just as fast. Speed and surprise will be our greatest assets."

“Absolutely not. You have information? Good. That's enough, more than enough actually.”, Quadähd protested.

“Not to mention you just arrived here. Don't overstay your welcome.”, The guard said coldly, right behind him.

“You have something to gain, as you said.”, Banary reminded, “Let us do what we must and then you will have your vengeance.”

That's not what Zagul was after, but fine.

“Then at least let me help in the battle, I need to do something.”, Zagul faked his unquiet and anxious motions, enough to make them know he was desperate for some contribution.

Quadähd eyed Henry with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. The Lacerta’s insistence on helping was unnerving, but there was a certain desperation in his voice that couldn’t be easily dismissed. The Chief crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering. “You’re pushing your luck, Henry. If you truly have nothing left to lose, then sitting this one out shouldn’t be an issue.”

Henry clenched his jaw, doing his best to appear both frustrated and earnest. “I understand your caution, Chief, but you don’t know what it’s like to be sidelined while others fight your battles. I’m not asking to lead your warriors; I just want to be there, to prove that I’m not just talk.”

Banary exchanged a look with Quadähd, her expression softening slightly. “Chief, he’s right about one thing—he does know the Waxenians better than any of us. If his information is accurate, he might be an asset in the heat of battle. We can keep a close watch on him, but having someone with inside knowledge on the field could tip the scales in our favor.”

The guard gripped on Henry’s shoulder tightening slightly, as if silently urging Quadähd to reject the idea. But the Chief remained deep in thought, weighing the risks against the potential benefits.

Finally, Quadähd spoke, his tone firm but measured. “Very well, Henry. You’ll be allowed to join the battle—but under strict conditions. You’ll be accompanied at all times by two of my most trusted warriors. If you so much as blink the wrong way, they’ll cut you down without hesitation. Is that clear?”

Henry nodded, relief and tension mixing in his expression. “Crystal clear, Chief. I won’t let you down.”

Quadähd wasn’t done yet. “And one more thing—you stay out of the way of my son. Cantler may have vouched for you, but I won’t have you manipulating him or anyone else in this tribe. You’re here to serve a purpose, nothing more. The moment you become a liability, your life is forfeit.”

Henry swallowed hard, realizing that the Chief’s threats were anything but empty. “I understand, Chief. I’m here to help, not cause more trouble.”

With that, Quadähd gestured for the guard to release Henry completely. The Lacerta felt the tension ease slightly as the guard’s hand left his shoulder, but the warning in Quadähd’s eyes was enough to keep him on edge.

Honestly? Zagul should win a prize because this acting is the creme de la creme.

“Banary, assign two warriors to keep an eye on Henry during the preparations and the battle. I want them to report to me directly.”

Banary nodded, already mentally choosing the best candidates. “I’ll see to it, Chief.”

Henry bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Thank you, Chief. I’ll do everything I can to prove my worth.”

Quadähd gave a curt nod, then turned to Banary. “Let’s get to work. We have five days, and we can’t afford to waste a single moment.”

As the Lacerta left the tent, Banary turned to Quadähd, her voice low but laced with concern. "I know this might sound contradictory, but are you sure we can trust him, Chief? If he’s lying, it could lead us straight into a trap."

Quadähd sighed, because of course his advisor would doubt her own decisions. His shoulders are heavy with the weight of leadership. "I don’t trust him, not fully. But right now, we’re running out of options. If he’s genuine, we might stand a chance. If not… we’ll be ready for that too. Keep an eye on him, Banary. If he shows any sign of betrayal, you know what to do."

Banary nodded, her expression serious. "I won’t let him out of my sight."

With that, she left to carry out her orders, leaving Quadähd alone in the tent, staring at the map of the Vale. The days ahead would be crucial, and the fate of the Sylph Tribe hung in the balance. But for now, they had a plan—a risky, desperate plan—but it was better than doing nothing. And in war, sometimes that was all you could ask for.

=========

Henry— Zagul couldn't even show any signs of happiness that at least this tribe was more unstable than the other, successfully being manipulated by him to fulfill his needs, thanks to some two guards now being with him. The Lacerta could tell they looked tough, maybe more tougher than your average warrior and certainly tougher than the ones that tried to ambush him at the cave, so enacting the rest of the plan would be hard…

If he didn't have the crystals and gems he gathered before, that is.

But that could wait, as he is now doing the service Connor hated the most when they sailed to Vyzar, looking at maps, paperwork needed to win the war he is “fighting” for. Banary joined shortly after, giving her own insights on the plan, the guards following every line to determine if their “guest” was giving any false information or faulty planning. Of course, Zagul was very much aware of their role and acted accordingly, so perfectly that they would not have anything to tell or show when they eventually met with Quadähd again. The Sylphs were somewhat paranoid, but who wouldn't when a battle for the whole existence was about to happen in a few days.

Another thing that was happening was that everyone saw Cantler leave and started asking questions on what the hell he did. The Chief explained what happened, softening his side a little, glaring at all times at Zagul, Banary and the guard that was present at the time, a subtle order to keep the matter to themselves. A squad was immediately created to not only get the boy back, but also the Sky Scraper Stone, as it was vital to their victory, or the small chance of one. In truth, Quadähd couldn't care less about the piece of rock, he wanted to apologize and hug his son again. Sure he was immature and brought many problems along, but the fact that he did bring up a solution to the war was to be considered, heavily so.

The manpower was split in three forces:

The first was going to go and search for Cantler, hopefully finding the Stone.

The second was going to the Vale and preparing the terrain, bunker-holes, traps, lures and everything. Securing the best positions, the vantage points, the hiding spots, the best coverage of the place and so on.

The third and final would be the ones that remained at the camp in case something might happen. Can't let the tribe unprotected. That's a problem begging to happen.

“It surely is a problem though.”, “Henry” said as he saw the groups being divided.

“What are you saying?”, One of the guards asked, suspicions rising.

“The guy, Cantler. Why would he leave like that? And with… that stone?”, Zagul asked genuinely, but more afraid that his plan was in jeopardy than actually worried.

The guard narrowed his eyes at Henry, sensing the tension in his voice. "You tell us. You seem to know more about our people than you should."

Zagul sighed, playing his part well. "I may know your enemies, but I'm not a mind reader. I'm just saying it's unusual, that's all. Cantler leaving with the Sky Scraper Stone right before a battle? Something doesn’t add up."

Banary shot him a sharp look, her patience wearing thin. "Cantler has always been unpredictable. But he’s also stubborn. If he left, it's because he believes he’s doing something right, even if it’s reckless. We don't have time to speculate on his motives. We need to focus on the battle ahead."

Zagul nodded, but inside, he was calculating his next move. If Cantler had taken the Sky Scraper Stone, it could mean one of two things: either the young Sylph was about to do something incredibly foolish, or he had his own plan that could complicate everything Zagul was working toward. Either way, it introduced a variable that he hadn’t accounted for, and that made him uneasy.

As the preparations continued, Zagul found himself increasingly aware of the clock ticking down. The Sylphs moved with a sense of purpose, their fear and determination palpable as they prepared for the coming battle. Zagul couldn’t afford any more surprises—not if he wanted his plan to succeed.

The guard who had questioned him earlier nudged him roughly. "Stop daydreaming, Lacerta. We need you to focus."

Zagul forced a smile, hiding his inner turmoil. "Right. Just thinking ahead, that’s all. We can’t afford any mistakes."

Banary’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. "Then make sure you’re not the one making them. The Vale is our only chance, and I’ll be damned if I let it slip away because of poor planning."

Zagul nodded, putting on the mask of a loyal ally, but inside, he was already strategizing how to adjust his plan to account for Cantler’s unexpected actions. He would have to move quickly, use the crystals and gems he’d gathered before to tip the scales in his favor. But how, and when? Those decisions would have to be made carefully—any misstep could ruin everything.

As the night deepened and the Sylphs continued their preparations, Zagul found a moment alone, away from the watchful eyes of the guards and Banary. He pulled out one of the crystals, holding it up to the faint light of the moon. It glimmered with an eerie glow, a reminder of the power it held. Power that, if used correctly, could change the course of this battle—or bring everything crashing down.

Zagul knew that time was running out. The forces were split, the Sylphs were focused on the Vale, and Cantler was still out there with the Sky Scraper Stone. The pieces were moving, and soon, the game would reach its climax.

But whether Zagul would be the victor or the vanquished, only time would tell.

==========

At the night, the full moon shone on the pale snow, soft jiggles echoed as a man skipped and jumped from one snow layer to another, not bothered at all by the giant marks and tracks he left behind. This time, a full fledged snow suit, white, with a hood that obviously was made in a hurry, but the bells were still present as the noise they made was ominously louder than they should be allowed to. The Jester overlooked from very far how the Lacerta's progress went, giving mental judgments to the whole thing.

The week worth of time to prepare,the meeting with the Morepans, the failure with the Waxenians, but the sudden success with the Sylphs but the not foreseen departure of the young son of the Chief. The Jester couldn't hold the giggle that left his mouth. It was just too amusing.

But some things could've gone better. Jester thought about it for a second.

The Jester paused mid-skip, his bells chiming merrily in the still night air. He cocked his head, as if weighing the events in his mind, then snickered to himself. "Ah, the Lacerta's little charade," he mused aloud, his voice bouncing off the snow like a playful echo. "Who would've thought the cold-blooded fellow had it in him to pull off such a delightful ruse? But honestly, the Sylphs are just too easy to fool. They’re like children—always looking for monsters under the bed while the real trouble dances right before their eyes."

He pirouetted on one foot, sending a spray of snow into the air, and resumed his skipping, bells jingling with each exaggerated leap. "Though I must say," he continued, chuckling under his breath, "I did expect the Waxenians to put up more of a fight. They were supposed to be the clever ones, the masterminds of chaos! Yet here they are, outwitted by a Lacerta with a few shiny rocks and a smirk. Pathetic, really."

The Jester twirled again, arms outstretched as he imagined the various ways he could have stirred the pot a little more. "Maybe I should’ve added a little more spice to the mix. Perhaps a spontaneous avalanche? Or a sudden swarm of ice-bats? That would’ve sent them all scattering, ha! And that Cantler lad...oh, if only I’d known he was such a flight risk! I could’ve planted a few 'helpful' suggestions in his head to make his little adventure even more entertaining."

He stopped abruptly, his mood shifting as quickly as the wind, and let out a long, theatrical sigh. "But alas, even I must admit when things don’t go quite as planned. Could’ve made those bells a bit quieter, too—stealth isn’t exactly my strong suit with these on." He flicked one of the bells on his hood, its merry jingle almost taunting him.

Still, despite the minor missteps, the Jester couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement as he thought about what was to come. The Sylphs were scrambling, the Lacerta was playing his part, and that fool Cantler was off on his own misguided quest. It was all coming together in a delightful symphony of chaos, and the Jester was more than happy to conduct.

He crouched low, peering into the distance where the Sylphs’ camp was just barely visible, a small, flickering light in the vast, snowy expanse. "Yes, yes," he whispered to himself, a grin spreading across his face. "This is going to be fun. And who knows? Maybe I’ll throw in a surprise encore if the show needs a little extra spark."

With that, the Jester leapt into the air, executing a perfect somersault before landing gracefully on the snow. He gave one final, exaggerated bow to his imaginary audience, then disappeared into the night, leaving only the fading sound of jingling bells in his wake.