Chapter 130:

“Fucks sake!” Verona cried out. “Ride more gently!”

Even with her hard hold on the reins of the Jaguar Mount, every bounce felt like it would be her last, The Jaguar Mount, though apparently one of the most gentle and docile, felt like a raging Ix after being stabbed in the butt with a burning iron. It didn’t move like a horse; its body lurched and rocked with every long stride. Verona body rocked back and forth but she was slowly getting used to it. Slowly. Kal was doing no better than she was. Beast-kin enhanced senses were playing havoc with her mind, even when she copied the other Dark elves and rose above the Jaguar so only their legs jostled. Doing that was extremely tiring. Verona resigned herself to endure it.

“We’re almost there.” Ceccitol brought her mount next to Verona. “You can see the fortress in the distance.”

She pointed to a looming black spire slowly rising through the ever-present mist of The Shadow Isles. Upon leaving the DuskReavers Island Verona thought it might dissipate but the mist had only grown and now covered everything in a faint white haze. Things moved through the haze, small and large creatures, thankfully nothing that resembled a Goblin but it played on her mind.

“I’ll be glad to give my legs a rest.” Verona almost let go of one hand of the reins to rub her calf, instantly regretting her decision but managed to hold on. “Shitting thing…The villages on the mainland are a lot, well, livelier than those on your island.”

The rapid column of Dark Elves, most Dark Elves doubled or tripled on a mount while Verona and Kal were afforded one each, passed by another Dark Elf village. These were different from the human villages of Qaiviel or Graterious. In no way were these a ramshackle assortment of crude buildings to serve only as shelter. The buildings, while few in number, were large and ornate in the same fashion as those in the port. Numerous small fruit trees, with flowers similar to the carnivorous plants in the mansion, bristled with Dark Elf activity. Small dark pig-like creatures darted through the shrubbery as children chased them back into pens. Verona counted a hundred Dark Elves for a modest-sized village. Even the small border town of Soulthor had several hundred, probably more living outside in small shacks. Less now, after the Mole Rats attacked.

I wonder what happened to them? And what happened to that girl that was offered to Anton? She was a little young…just like Ceccitol’s children.

“Because their warriors haven’t been sent to war,” Kal said. Her tail fluttering behind her was a true sight to behold, several of the Dark Elves watched it with a keen eye as well.

“Exactly.” Gerin squeezed between Verona and Ceccitol. “While our warriors fight and die they can live happily like this.”

“And complain that you’re losing?” Verona threw up a silver brow.

“Exactly.” Gerin chuckled. “They’ve grown soft and weak. Soon they’ll realise just how weak they’ve become, once we’ve fallen.”

Verona laughed. “Not if we, and our husband, have anything to say about it. By the way, we were talking about that Sand Timer. What do you know about the United Empire?”

Gerin shrugged. “Not that much. I’m sure the DuskReaver elders would know more, but we don’t exactly have time to meet them, especially since they live some many miles away from the port, and away from where we had to travel.”

“But what do you know?” Verona asked.

“What do I know? The United Empire began in the place you call the Deweth Clans. It spread until it covered the entire continent, from the Wood Elves to the south right to the Mycean City-States in the west, though they weren't known as that back then. None of your Kingdoms and Empires were. Everything was under their control. They continued to grow, even taking our lands and most of the world. Every people bowed to their rule. Almost all. Once they reached the main Wood Elven lands, far to the west, they stopped expanding, and slowly it began to collapse in on itself. In but a fraction of the time it took to create everything collapsed and the United Empire crumbled until only your continent remained. That lasted a bit longer but even that fell into the squabbling mess that it is now. That’s all I really know."

“Guess the Clansmen do have some reason to think they should rule everything,” Kal said.

“And were the Beast-kin here on The Shadow Isles?” Verona asked.

“No. They only lived on your continent originally. Some moved to the south, across the seas, and I think they were spared from your purges and enslavement. I’m not sure though. Not many people go there. Even the Frindal Emirate isn’t willing to go to those lands. Too dangerous.”

“Maybe some Lamia’s still exist.” Verona mused. “I wonder what Eider would think of them?”

“But the United Empire left us several artefacts, like the Sand Timers and our language. Though they were a brutish bunch of arseholes that part of their rule will last forever.”

Anton said his language is called English, but we write something that he said looks like it came from China, Japan or Korea…I’m guessing those are countries from his world. That don’t speak English…Very strange.

“Gerin. When did the Beast-kin emerge?”

“What do you mean?” Gerin spared a glance to Kal, who looked at Verona oddly as well.

“Anton, our husband, wants to know more about them. And…Can Dark Elves have children with humans?”

Ceccitol twitched slightly.

“No.” Gerin turned to his daughter. “Humans and Elves can’t interbreed.”

“Huh…But Beast-kin can.” Verona nodded at Kal. “Kal’s all the evidence you’ll need for that. And I know some Beast-kin that are mixes of other breeds and one that’s a new species altogether.”

“A Dwarf also told us humans and Beast-kin fought together,” Kal yelled over the panting of the Jaguar Mounts. “So they must have lived together before the United Empire collapsed. Surely.”

Gerin frowned in deep thought. “All I know is that they weren’t involved with the conquest of The Shadow Isles but they turned up soon after when the United Empire started expanding to where the Holy Kingsland is now. I…Huh. Where did they come from? Some Beast-kin are very strong."

“That they are.” Ceccitol chuckled. She must have thought of Rasha and Kristof.

“So why not use them to attack us or earlier?” Gerin frowned at the mist covered sun. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”

“That’s alright.” Verona waved him down. “What you’ve told us is all new. But we’ll still want to talk to those elders when we get the chance.”

So Dark Elves can’t have babies with humans, and probably Beast-kin too. Ceccitol probably told Anton that so it would entice him…So why humans and Beast-kin able to have cross-breeds are like Kal? How are Beast-kin able to interbreed like Rasha and probably Ulyaa when they’re so different? Why weren’t they used in the expansion of the United Kingdom until after the Dark Elves? If I had them I’d use them as soldiers. That’s what Anton wants to do. We’re missing something. But what could it be?

---[]---

Verona felt more than a little humbled as the Mist Walkers fortress loomed through into view. The mist continued to obscure the top as they reached the wall, both were made from the same black stone as the wharf. The tower itself was built from many layered disks, some wider than the previous but slowly converging to a point beyond her sight. A faint purple hue emanated from the peak, but for what reason they would have such a bright light Verona didn’t know. A lighthouse but for land? It would be the easiest thing to see for miles around, even more so at night. Hundreds of scratches and nicks adorned the exterior of the wall, some were very deep. Verona’s eyes were drawn to a line of six deep gouges near the ground. Dark Elf warriors, their bows drawn and arrows nocked, patrolled the walls keeping a vigilant eye. A short whistle travelled along the wall, repeated by the vigilant Dark Elves and catching Verona’s attention.

“Did the United Empire build this too?” Verona asked.

“I think so.” Gerin’s eyes strained to see the top. “Whenever it’s spoken of it’s always after the United Empire took these lands. It must have been a wonder to see such a thing constructed.”

Kal craned her head up. “It is simply too large to be a normal fortress. Does it have something to do with the mist covering The Shadow Isles?”

Gerin shrugged as they approached a large stone gate. “It’s always been covered in mist. I don’t understand it…except it’s just to make some sort of strange statement.”

“Who goes there?” A Dark Elf patrolling guard yelled down. A small white tassel hung from his neck, the same hung from the other guards.

“Gerin of the DuskReaver clan, with reinforcements for the front.”

“Open the gate.” The Dark Elf yelled. He sighed as he turned back to Gerin. “The Mist Walker Elders want to see you. Doesn’t sound good.”

Gerin clicked his tongue. “Thanks for the warning. We’ll be right up.”

The guard nodded as the stone gate rumbled open just enough to allow a single Jaguar mount through. The Dark elves filed through to a massive war-camp inside. Verona’s immediate thoughts of a fully-fledged army were crushed. The Dark Elves held empty and haggard faces, some staring into the void without any recognition of life held in their eyes. Almost all were wounded, some appeared more than life-threatening, while those only lightly wounded were still preparing to take up arms. The smell of blood and iron pierced her nose and sent her heart racing. Blood. So much blood. Verona scrunched her hands so tight her knuckles screamed in pain.

“Oh my.” Kal murmured.

“It’s not that bad,” Gerin said. “This is where all the wounded gather. It’s not like this is all we have…At least I hope it’s not.”

A Dark Elf, with a dark purple tassel, ran towards them waving his arm. He directed Gerin and the DuskReavers to their section of the sprawling camp. The layout of the camp was a complete mess. Clearly, it hadn’t been designed with these numbers in mind nor had any strenuous effort been taken to resolve the issue.

The DuskReavers tents were actually of better quality than the others. However, their warriors looked worse. Nearly all were heavily wrapped with bloody bandages. Though they lacked the distant vacant looks their shoulders drooped and their heads hung low.

“My Lord Gerin.” A Dark Elf spoke loudly. Immediately the attitude changed, not better but more disciplined. “The latest batch of wounded have arrived. It’s not looking good.”

“Take the mounts and give them some food.” Gerin jumped from his Jaguar. It glanced at him and rotated its shoulders, it didn’t like being ridden, not that Verona blamed them.

Gerin turned to his warriors. “Make yourselves as comfortable as you can. And help the wounded if you are able.” The warriors saluted and quickly dispersed.

Verona wasn’t particularly sad to see hers and Kal’s disappear. When Luna was larger, or they found a new Peryton, that would be her mount. Unless Anton found something bigger. Like a dragon or a drake. An actual drake, not just jumping on Irso.

Gerin signalled to join him in a small tent. The smell of blood became near overwhelming. Though empty it had clearly just been used for surgery. Kal held her shoulder as she flapped the cloth curtain in an attempt to dispel the odour.

“I’m fine, Kal.” Verona gently patted her hand. “I just wasn’t expecting it to be so strong.”

“I thought you told Anton it wasn’t a problem unless you were using your power. That’s what you told me, remember?”

Verona nodded. “That’s true. But there’s just so much it’s there in my mind. I’m not going crazy, I know what that feels like. If it does happen you just need to knock me out before I do something stupid.”

“Right…”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Thank you, Anton, for not telling her what I did in my trance. At least Cetina’s still somewhat in control.

“How many?” Gerin asked.

A Dark Elf surgeon, his clothes stained in blood, scratched his head. “Perhaps ten a day? Since Ceccitol left things have calmed down. We’re no longer taking such staggering losses. But that’s, that’s still too many. And those are just the deaths. Many more are brought in injured, some hopelessly so.” He waved to a pile of bloody bandages next to a table still slick with blood. “I’m sure the warriors here could defend the walls but that’s about it.”

“Can’t you just let those Jaguars loose into the Goblin lines?” Verona asked.

“Their claws and teeth are very intimidating.” Kal frowned lightly. “But this probably isn’t a new thought, is it?”

“Why are-”

“Just answer.” Gerin interrupted.

“They are…My ladies.” The Dark Elf bowed his head, not knowing exactly who they were. “Probably one reason why the Goblins have been kept back as it is. But the Jaguar Mounts take a long time to train and there are simply too many Goblins. They run around the hordes but it doesn’t seem to make a difference.”

“Hopefully they will.” Gerin sighed. “One of the guards said they wanted to speak with me?”

“They?” Verona asked.

“The elders of the Mist Walkers,” Ceccitol replied.

Gerin spat onto the bloodstained floor. “It’s something we’re going to have to deal with. Especially since we have humans this far into our lands since the collapse of the United Empire.”

“More stares then.” Verona threw up her arms in defeat. Kal chuckled.

“Now you know what it was like to go through Bebbezzar and Qaiviel.” Ceccitol smiled.

“I can help the wounded.” Kal clenched her fist tight. “I won’t be able to heal everyone but I can save those on the verge of death. With enough time and mana…I could even restore limbs.”

“That would be incredible.” Gerin smiled. “But even I know that Tethra’s power, though I haven’t seen it for myself, cannot heal everyone in this camp before we must see the Elders. Though it would give the warriors some hope.”

“There are some prayers that I would like to try,” Kal said. “The healing prayers that work over a long period of time. They use significantly less mana but any additional wounds won’t be healed until a new prayer is cast.”

“How long will it take?” Gerin asked very calmly. Verona saw his ears twitch, the same way Ceccitol’s did when she heard they were coming to The Shadow Isles.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps for small wounds a day. For something like recovering a hand perhaps four or five. I haven’t tried it though. Maybe even some healing artefacts I could put into a tent and keep them alive.”

“As long as you don’t use too much Earth Mana,” Verona said quietly.

“If you could do that, that alone would be a tremendous help. Just one person at the beginning of this war would have changed things immensely.”

“Do you not worship Tethra here like Stratos?” Verona asked.

“Some do, I think. But one day her power just faded away. I don’t understand why. No one does. And no one could get an answer from her or any of the Old Gods. So they turned to gods that would still answer, like Stratos.”

Jira isn’t going to tell me anything, that bitch. And Anton’s gods have been very quiet about it too. We need to find a god that’s actually neutral in all this, but that’s going to be hard to figure out. Those books are probably out of date. I really, really don’t want to have to talk with Jira again.

“Do you want me to start now?” Kal gripped her hands tight.

“No. The Elders will be furious if we don’t arrive immediately. And they’ll want to see you two. Is it possible to get the other two here for this meeting?”

“Let me check.”

Verona wrapped her hand over the ring.

“Anton? Are you available?”

“Kind of. We’re just setting up camp for the night. What’s happening?”

“It’s night there?” Verona asked aloud. “I mean the forests get dark pretty quickly.”

“Perhaps Duchess Belinda doesn’t want to travel during the night.” Kal offered. “Many creatures hunt in the dark. Like wolves. Perhaps she’s worried about them?”

“We’re about to meet the leaders of the Dark Elves. It doesn’t look good here. A lot of wounded people, and it sounds like Ceccitol was telling the truth about how badly they’re working together. You might have better luck talking to them than we will. I don’t know if they’re not going to like us, because we’re humans or women, I don’t know, but you might have an easier time to get them working together. Apparently we have to meet them right now, we don't even have time to let Kal heal a few people before we go.”

“The only thing I could do is intimidate them.” Anton sighed, it was strange to hear that in her head. “My magic is a bit flashier without potentially scaring them like yours. But I’ll…Hang on. There’s something going on at the edge of the camp.”

“What’s happening?” Kal asked.

“Fuck’s sake.”

“Bandits!” Cetina shouted. “A lot of them too. Maybe a hundred, maybe two. They’re coming in really quick.”

“Bandits wouldn’t come this far,” Anton grumbled. “They knew that Belinda was taking this route. Well, guessed. Verona, Kal, we’ll be fine. But this will take a while…And it’ll be a good chance to see how effective the summons are. Doesn’t look too serious. But there could be more coming, I don’t think we can leave anytime soon.”

“Are you sure you don’t want our help?”

“No. We’ll be fine.” Anton chuckled. “Nothing more than lightly armoured soldiers and some archers. No mages yet. If that happens we’ll let you know. But I need you two to do what you can. Doesn't sound like you should delay meeting these cantancerous old bastards. If you're late it could do more damage than good. I know you two will do fine, I know you will.”

“Okay! Be safe!”

Verona wanted to jump through the portal and leap into the fray. Not only would it hurt the relationship with the Dark Elves it would also diminish Anton’s trust in her. She had a task, just like he did, and she would see it through even if her nerves wouldn’t stop jittering. Kal was not doing well either but a single glance was enough to see that she had come to the same conclusion.

“Is something wrong?” Ceccitol asked.

“Anton’s fighting bandits,” Verona spoke slowly and flatly. “Or mercenaries, I don’t know. But they want to get Duchess Belinda. Probably because she’s a big part of their civil war.”

“Another one?” Gerin gently shook his head. “Seems that’s what humans are best at.”

“It sounds like the Dark Elves would be having one too if you didn’t live so far apart,” Kal replied, a slight frown on her face.

Gerin wouldn’t argue the point. “Perhaps. We’d better get moving before they come for us.”

---[]---

Verona had no idea how many levels of the Fortress tower they had climbed, maybe thirty or forty before they stopped. Every level swarmed with Dark Elf warriors, these wore lightly coloured tassels around their necks. Gerin explained these were the warriors from the mainland, seemingly content to wait inside the safety of the fortress while their fellows fought and died. They spared a glance for Verona and Kal, curiosity rather than hostility, before returning to their duties, mainly preparing arrows and maintaining their equipment. Finally, they arrived at some sort of meeting chamber though the stairway clearly continued higher still, probably right to the top. Heavily armed Dark Elf guards stood at the giant wooden door. These wielded menacing halberds with a line of archers behind. Verona didn’t like her chances against those.

Gerin stopped them from going further. “Don’t say anything foolish. And definitely, for the love of every god that exists, don’t speak without being asked. These Elders are very prickly and stuck in their ways, they’d have us all executed for talking over them. A bunch of cantankerous bastards.”

“Am I going to be a problem?” Kal asked, a hand ran through the fur on her tail.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. But please don’t do anything too drastic.”

Gerin took a deep breath and the guards opened the door. A thin haze of smoke permeated the air, like the mist that blanketed The Shadow Isles, but this had a distinct blue haze. Verona’s nose recoiled at the smell, so too did Kal’s. She coughed and began breathing through her mouth.

Ten elderly Dark Elves, looking like Ferula but with dark brown skin, sat around a large wooden table. A Dark Elf stood either side of each elder dressed more like servants than warriors. Three were completely asleep, slouched to one side and snoring lightly. A golden wooden item popped out of a fold of their thick cloak. The sleeping dark Elf jolted awake and shuffled it right. The others bickered over a map of The Shadow Isles, pointing to markers of the outer clans and muttering angry curses. One pointed to the DuskReavers Island and shook his head, followed by a horrendous coughing fit. Spittle flew in all directions but he paid it no mind, once again angrily cursing the outer clans for their supposed weakness. The Dark Elven servants kept their faces flat as they watched the almost child-like behaviour before them. But Verona saw their obvious disgust.

Just like some poor children forced to take care of their insane grandparents. Except these grandparents have the authority to send entire clans to their deaths. Only because they allow everyone to pounce on those that go against them. Does that mean they don’t actually have a lot of strength? Some sort of trick of the mind?

“Venerable Elders of the Mist Walkers,” Gerin spoke loudly, a hand to his chest in some sort of military salute. “I have arrived with reinforcements as requested.”

The Elders barley registered his words. Only one looked up. He, at least Verona was sure it was a he, dropped the food from his fingers and rubbed the crust from his eyes with the back of his hand.

“We can see that.” His voice croaked over the otherwise silent room. The other elders paid Gerin almost no attention. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the front? It is the duty of the Island Clans to push them back, yes?”

“I was asked to come here with all haste with reinforcements.” Gerin desperately held back the urge to grind his teeth. “That is what you have asked of all the Island clans, yes? While you sit here safe we fight and die.”

I thought you wanted us to keep calm. What about you?

The elder showed the first flicker of life. “Yes. That is why you have been called. It is only because of the weakness of the Island Clans that we are even in this mess.” He coughed, waving away the servant. “There is nothing to discuss. You and your men will head to the front, push back the Goblins and reclaim the land. Is that too difficult for you?”

Gerin held back the urge to say something rude. He bowed his head and began to walk to walk away when the Elder croaked something.

“I heard there were humans on this land.” He frowned at Verona and Kal. “Any particular reason why they are here? This is a Dark Elf matter.”

“Humans?” A near-blind Dark Elf snapped towards them, her swivelling towards their general direction. “No. They can’t be here. Not again.” She began scratching her arms. “Humans cannot be trusted. Those retching monkeys cannot set foot on this land. Never again. Never again.”

“They are the only help we have,” Gerin spoke calmly. “Unless you were actually going to send your warriors into battle. Fight alongside your fellow Dark Elves to save our homes. And not require the help of humans.”

The Dark Elf scoffed. “Your Island Clans continue to disgrace us. First your kind ally with the United Empire, and now you bring them back. After all they’ve done to our people.”

Building this spire, among other things.

“You should be grateful that you have a chance to finally absolve yourself of that sin.” The Elder smiled. “Even though you seem only capable of acquiring more.” The Elder shook his head. “Consorting with the United Empire again…”

“These aren’t those people,” Gerin spoke adamantly. “The United Empire fell some time ago. And you know that. If you’d bothered to leave these Islands in your entire life you’d…They are mercenaries hired to help us repel the Goblins and restore order.”

The Elder scoffed. “Humans don’t do anything without getting something in return. Only gold and power interest their kind. I hope you didn’t promise them something from our treasury?”

Gerin smiled. “Of course not. Any such rewards would come from our own funds, and not the Mist Walkers. We would never dream of doing such a heinous and thoughtless act.”

“At least you can do something right.” The Elder shook his head. “So long as these humans are willing to fight and die I don’t see a problem. But.” He raised his bony finger. “The moment the Goblins are defeated they are too leave immediately and never return. Do you understand? It’s only by our graces that you DuskReavers are allowed to trade with the Bebbezarians.”

But they’re the only way for wealth to come in and out of your realm. And the Green Moon Clan, the pirates, could obviously leave The Shadow Isles to prey on ships so it’s not like it’s the only port. Doesn’t make any sense if you want to make money. Is this another measure of control? The DuskReavers aren’t a loyal clan. I don’t understand…

“Absolutely.” Gerin bowed.

The Elder groaned. “So long as they know their place.”

I really, really want to say something. But I need to keep my mouth shut.

“How many are there?"

“Four.” Gerin glanced at Verona, who returned a nod.

“Four?” The Dark Elf Elder shrieked. “No. No, that’s too many.”

“You won’t even notice four humans.” Gerin sighed.

The Elder grumbled. “Very well. Now, stop wasting everyone’s time and go and reclaim the land that you have lost. Our warriors will remain on the mainland to ensure the safety of the towns and cities behind the front lines. Several Goblins have already breached the lines while you have been absent. It should not be our duty to push them back but yours.”

“As you wish, Venerable Elders.” Gerin bowed, motioning for the others to follow. “The Goblins will be driven back.”

Heavy armed Dark Elf warriors surrounded and escorted them outside. Verona followed but the Elders barely registered them. They returned to whatever important things they were discussing previously.

Verona waited until they began to descend before speaking.

“What the hell was that?” Verona asked, groaning and stomping her boots onto the hard stone floor. “Just go and fix it. And fuck you?”

“Who is actually leading this offensive?” Kal asked. She too was quite miffed. “I don’t think Anton would have made much of a difference.”

Verona grumbled. “Maybe he could have thrown a few fireballs at them. Get them to wake up a little.”

“Did you not see the amulets around their necks?” Ceccitol asked. “They could easily ward off all but the most powerful magic. Not that they use it much…”

“It was still shit.”

“There’s nothing we can do.” Gerin sighed. “The mainland clans follow the will of the Elders, sometimes, and there are a lot more of them then there are of us. If a clan goes against the will of the Elders they allow the others to take their land and wealth. It keeps everyone fearful of each other and dependent of the Elders.”

“No wonder your clan wants to leave this place.”

Gerin glumly nodded. “That we do. But there’s nothing to be done right now. Perhaps if we reclaim one of the islands things will turn better.”

Verona scoffed. “I doubt it. You saw them, they barely acknowledged you. To them, you, all of us, were nothing more than insects. Even if you reclaimed all the lost land by yourself I doubt they would do anything other than complain that you lost it in the first place. They kind of did, really.”

Gerin sighed. He must have known that but still held hope that things might be different.

“I wonder if there is anything we can do?” Tuccac mused to himself.

“For now we need to help our fellow warriors,” Ceccitol said. “And the warriors from the other Island Clans. They need our help too. We’ll have to find a way to deal with the Elders later. Do what you can do, right father?”

Gerin nodded before wrapping his arm around Ceccitol’s shoulder. Verona held her chin in deep thought as they followed them down along the empty stairwell.

When we get back we’re going to have a little word with these Elders. We aren’t just going to stand there and let them talk to us like that again.

She stopped at a window and looked towards the south.

Please be safe, Anton.