Was searching for groups of Reiszer in the middle of the night and desert a smart idea?
No? Well, someone should have stood up and said so before Kiur got himself spotted by a scouting party!
“Well, well, what do we have here?” The Reiszer that spread out his arms and smirked at Kiur was a dwarf. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be bothered by that fact but this was a Reiszer.
Being a dwarf didn’t make him any less dangerous but it was still a surprise to Kiur since he hadn’t seen any dwarves among the Reiszer—mostly humans and therianthropes.
This one had twirly short black hair, a short and braided black beard, a tattoo of black and grey lines on the right side of his face, blue eyes and two axes on each side.
Four Reiszer accompanied him, two therianthropes and two humans but they were too indifferent to the situation and kept their distance from the dwarf.
“An escapee? You must be one of those from the settlement they created somewhere around here, right? You will do wonderfully to lead us to your friends. How about it, become our prisoner an–”
“I have no intentions of being your prisoner,” Kiur answered to the dwarf’s surprise and held his gaze. “I bring demands to you.”
“Demands? To us?” The dwarf gestured at his chest and the others shuffled away nervously. “Quite brazen, lad, why would you think we would listen to you?”
“You don’t need to listen to me,” responded Kiur and the dwarf chuckled until Kiur revealed the short sword and stabbed it to the ground. “I believe you will want to listen to your superior, First Elite Ragnar Marcet, he sent me as an envoy to negotiate between his group and my people.”
The dwarf’s laughter got stuck in his throat and his blue eyes widened at the sight of the sword. He stared back at Kiur and drummed with his fingers against his chin.
Believing Kiur had struck a point he was about to give them demands until the dwarf buckled over and laughed. “That fool seriously got his sword taken by a gosling, this is too good, pha ha ha!”
The dwarf couldn’t contain himself and held his firm belly as his face grew red and so did Kiur’s from embarrassment.
“What’s so funny?” Kiur demanded to know and the dwarf slowly stood up again and remained laughing.
“Pray tell, did Ragnar seriously entrust his sword to you?”
Kiur hesitated, he didn’t know what the Reiszer was playing. “He did.”
The dwarf waited a while longer with a wide grin plastered on his face. A moment went by and he took a deep breath before shaking his head. “By Baldr’s golden beard, what is he thinking? Fine, I will hear you out, what kind of cooperation does Ragnar seek? He must be desperate to ask an escapee.”
Kiur elaborated on the cooperation but the more he told the Reiszer the more agitated Kiur grew. The dwarf put his hands on his cheeks, smiled open–mouthed and made ‘Aaas’ and ‘Ooos’ sounds as if he was in awe.
He was making fun of Kiur and didn’t attempt to hide it but Kiur couldn’t lose his composure, not yet.
“Oh poor Ragnar, after the loss of his son and nephew… hic, I hope Jorunn will make it,” the dwarf cried and snot ran down his red nose. One Reiszer offered him a handkerchief. “A girl too good for the world.”
Kiur’s eye twitched; he couldn’t handle this dwarf. “Will you cooperate then?” he asked with an exasperated undertone.
“Of course, of course, I will!” the dwarf cried and blew his nose, throwing the handkerchief back at the face of his comrade. “What should we do? What do we need to do to make the ‘co–ope–ra–tion’ happen?”
“Beg for forgiveness,” Kiur responded coldly and the Reiszer grew wary, gripping their spears and bows tightly. Even the dwarven leader stopped laughing and his mien darkened. “You displaced us all. You have taken our homes, took away our friends and family. A little girl had her little brother taken by you.”
Kiur swallowed his anger as the memory of Archil resurfaced and his heartbeat quickened, stoking the flames inside. “Remain calm, be composed.”
Drawing a breath Kiur continued. “Otherwise they will not listen to any sort of cooperation. The Summer Solstice is coming and if we all stay here, we die. So–”
“This is nice and all but,” the dwarf steepled his fists, “why should we listen to your demands? We have nothing to apologise for.”
Boom. Boom.
“Nothing to apologise for?” Kiur gripped the left side of his chest where his heart was beating violently. “Calm down, he is provoking you.”
“We have every right to demand an apology for the things you did–”
“The things we did?” his smile unnerved Kiur. There was anger behind it that was so much like Hessian’s. Something all the Reiszer held. “Listen to me, lad, the things we did are nothing to the suffering you folk and our overlords do or did to us. I will make it easy for you, there will never be an understanding between us,” he gripped one of his axes and pointed it towards Kiur. “There was never room for negotiations, so play nice, please, let us tie you up.”
Instinctively Kiur took a step back from the spears and drawn arrowheads. The dwarven Reiszer drew closer to Kiur and angrily moistured his chipped lips.
“Please, do not resist and kindly show us where your friends are. So we can take them back.”
“I knew it,” Kiur gripped the hem of his shawl where his lion brooch was supposed to be—taken by Hessian. “Talking with them was useless, they would never listen.”
The gemstone in Kiur’s pocket grew hotter and hotter. Like heated iron, it burned into Kiur’s chest, and his eyes saw red.
“No one ever listens, they all just want you to swallow their side of the truth.”
Kiur’s heart exploded in a lotus of flames.
Burgundy, scarlet, coral and all the shades of reds were released as Kiur abandoned his kindness. He was angry, his arm erupted in whips of fire, and the Reiszer charged at him.
He could release it all and just be done with them, but was that really what he wanted? It was so easy to just let go and release the flames at them but then what? He needed to make them cooperate but not like that.
Throwing his hand forward Kiur shot his magic towards the ground. A geyser of billowing flames, ash and smoke rose to the sky.
Kiur grabbed Ragnar’s sword and made a tactical retreat.
—☽—
“Oi, where do you think you are running to?”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Of course, running away wasn’t much of an option as the five Reiszer tailed after Kiur. Arrows whizzed over his head and Kiur had more than a few close attempts on his life.
“For a dwarf, he was more than a little agile,” Kiur thought.
He knew how quick Archil was. As a fox therianthrope, it was a given, but he rarely saw fast dwarves dashing around with their short stature and legs—giving his mother one hell of a time when he was a child and out for mischief.
“Oi, oi, stop running.” The dwarven Reiszer had outpaced Kiur with ease.
“I did track in my past life, yet how is this dwarf so damn fast!?” Kiur panted like crazy
Two more arrows embed themselves to either side of Kiur with his back against the slab of stone. The Reiszer have cornered Kiur from all sides, their cold iron weapons cutting through the freezing night.
“Should I unleash my flames again? I don’t know how I did it but…”
Kiur concentrated on his heart. The flames were weak but still present. He had to stoke them if he wanted to do something, but how did he trigger them in the first place?
“Running is what you people do best. That’s what you all did up until now.” The dwarf rested both his axes against his shoulders. “It’s no wonder you all got captured; you are a bunch of weaklings with no shred of respect to be given. We will never bow to someone as weak as you.”
A vein popped up on Kiur’s forehead, and he now understood what the source of his flames was. It was the most obvious source he always swallowed down. Anger.
Kiur wasn’t one to get angry easily, but something swapped over with Lotte’s personality that made him agitated. She too wasn’t the temperamental type but everything made them so furious that the flames in their heart were growing.
Embers danced from Kiur’s left thumb to his pinky finger. The fine hair on his forearm turned red. The heat radiated from his body, blinding his left eye to the point where his vision blurred.
He was tempted to just unleash it if it weren’t for Tabira, Shabra and the others arriving for his rescue.
Tabira’s dark eyes were glowing in a bright blue light as clear and beautiful as lapis lazuli, the gemstone of Enlil. She spread out her arms, and the wind picked up the sand all around them. An earthen wall rose between them all, and Kiur was dragged away by a group of therianthropes to get him out of harm’s way.
The Reiszer cut their way through the stone, but on the other end stood Shabra, his arms crossed behind his back and scowling at the enemy.
They inched back as Shabra’s forces were overwhelmingly larger than theirs.
“Kiur, are you alright?” Tabira inspected Kiur for any evident wounds but when she saw he was alright she pulled at his shawl so he was looking face first at her. “What in Enlil’s name were you thinking? Have you lost your mind?”
“I- Tabira, what are you–”
“Don’t give me that,” Tabira let go of him and helped him stand up with some trouble considering her constitution. “Ninda told me you disappeared to get some fresh air.” Tabira quoted with her fingers. “Smart girl knew you were up to something. You brought yourself into too much danger going–”
“Father, you have come!”
Kiur, Tabira and the others turned towards the two dwarves who stood at a standstill. The Reiszer laughed and spread his arms out towards Shabra who he just called father and to the astonishment of everyone—in their respective language.
The Reiszer spoke their tongue as if he were a native.
“Waldemar Matthiasson,” said Shabra and scowled. His hair had gone greyer since the last time Kiur saw him—which wasn’t long, to begin with. “To run into you… what misfortune.”
“Oh, father, how can you say such a thing? You pain me!” Waldemar, the dwarven Reiszer, cried crocodile tears. “In the west, there is the story of how the father welcomes back his wayward son. They hug, drink, and feast; why do you deny me so much?”
Tabira and Kiur inched closer to Shabra but couldn’t draw their eyes away from the elaborate bewailing of Waldemar.
“He’s your son?” Tabira asked, astounded to see a grown dwarf howl his head off than the fact he could speak their language.
“Hmph,” Shabra snorted indigently, spitting on the ground. “I have no son, especially no Reiszer for one. That buffoon over there chased me and my group through half the damn desert. If he were my son, I would turn in my grave and beg the Earth Mother to punish me for eternity.”
“Oh, father, how bold of you,” Waldemar smirked and wiped away his tears with the back of his hands—the grin grew wider, like that of an evil jester. “Punished you will be; how dare you reject your own son?”
“I HAVE NO SON!” Shabra yelled and stomped with his foot to level the ground and convulse it with waves. Tabira held on to Kiur’s shoulder so she wouldn’t fall. “I will teach you some manners, damn Reiszer!”
“Come at me, father.”
The two dwarves went out into a brawl between magic and steel but it was ill-matched. Shabra was old; he was at least as old as his white beard and not suited for combat.
Waldemar on the other hand laughed as he swung his axes, cut down conjured hard stone and danced around the elderly dwarf like a deranged squirrel—mind you, a squirrel with axes.
“We have to get out of here,” Tabira held out her hand, and the other Reiszer backed away as they saw her two metallic fingers and firm scowl. “Get Shabra, and let’s make a getaway.”
Tabira and her group cornered the four Reiszer, shooting fire or summoning the earth around their feet but even then, they didn’t relent as long as Waldemar was fighting.
Kiur clenched his fist and tried to keep his anger at bay. He needed to make the Reiszer cooperate and not bring his people into any more danger.
“ALL OF YOU, CEASE IT IMMEDIATELY!” the intensity of Kiur’s voice let them shudder, but what brought the fight to a halt were the flames brought to life from the very desert.
Those who were attuned to magic like Tabira, Shabra or Waldemar could see the mana dance and pry at their limbs or body, warning them to stop or face the consequences.
They turned back to Kiur whose left arm, eye, heart and hair danced with such flames until they extinguished themselves.
“Waldemar,” the addressed dwarf turned to Kiur and smiled nervously at him when he started to come closer.
“Who would have guessed, the golden child has bite–” Kiur stabbed Ragnar’s sword into the ground before Waldemar’s feet.
“Leave and take the sword back, our cooperation has failed.”
Waldemar cocked his head at Kiur and hefted his axes. “What, that’s it? You don’t want us to beg? Make us ask to work together so we can escape the awful desert?”
Tabira stared at Kiur in shock. “You did what!? We never asked you to do it!”
“They didn’t know either?” Waldemar laughed and grabbed the sword to admire it in his hands. “What a surprise. Did you hope to surprise them with some obedient Reiszer? Truly, you are as naive as they come.”
Kiur’s eye twitched again.
If he were his brother, he would have grabbed Waldemar by the throat and rag doll him around until he gave in but he was not Archil, neither Kiur nor Lotte at this point.
He was someone who needed to save his friends and his people.
“I don’t care what you think of me. Return to Ragnar and tell him you returned with his sword but no deal since the dwarf that returned refused to make a deal.”
Waldemar’s mouth dropped. “Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kiur circled around the dwarf, a bad habit he picked up after his encounter with the Reiszer Tomoe. “Ragnar asked of me to have my people, your escapees, make a deal of cooperation. I agreed in hopes we would leave the desert together.
“However, it seems a dwarf under Ragnar’s control refuses to listen and makes us trouble. Return the sword to him and tell him, in person, why it didn’t work out. I failed to convince either group, so I give up.”
Kiur held up his hands, turned his back to Waldemar and returned to Tabira to apologise, “I am sorry for causing you trouble, I thought I–”
“Kiur, is what you just said true? You came out here, bringing yourself into danger to convince a group of Reiszer to beg for our help, to work with us?”
“Not like that plan would have worked,” grunted Shabra, and Kiur agreed.
He had hoped it wouldn’t be too hard. Maybe the Reiszer would see the light of things and agree in the eyes of the danger. Perhaps he was too naive to believe it, but when Waldemar came back Kiur turned hopefully back to him.
Waldemar held the sword in both hands, and the other Reiszer bowed down. “You return the sword to Ragnar. We will concede.”
Kiur’s hand extended for the sword, and the moment he grabbed it, Waldemar pulled out his axes. Instinctively Kiur took a step back, but Waldemar dropped the weapons to the ground.
The dwarf smirked. “Scared you, didn’t I? Your words were convincing for us–”
“Tie them up,” Kiur heard Shabra’s voice from behind, and the Reiszer were encased in a prison of stone, with Shabra’s men taking the Reiszer into custody.
“Shabra, what is the meaning of–”
“Be quiet, child,” Shabra scowled at Kiur. “You brought these Reiszer to us. They are a danger to you and all of us. Until we agree on what we will do with them, they will be held prisoner.”
Kiur couldn’t believe his ears. He turned for Tabira for guidance, but she stood by Shabra’s side as they tied up the Reiszer.
Waldemar looked over to Kiur. Not with eyes of contempt but with an expression that said, ‘Told you so’ while laughing silently as they were brought back to the hideout.