Chapter 158:

With the Mainland and Island Clans working together the Dark Elves continued to make great strides in retaking their lands. Despite several large counter-attacks they continued to push forward, with Anton and Kal using delayed healing prayers on the most gravely wounded, until they reached the land bridges to the over-run islands. However such a momentous occasion was overshadowed by knowledge they were approaching the Storm Striders island, where many Dark Elf artefacts lay protected, and where they suspected some Strega Witches, not aligned with Ferula, were heading for some nefarious purpose. Gerin did not take much convincing to change his focus from the Green Moon island to the Storm Striders.

After arriving on the island, and repairing the destroyed land bridge, a local Dark Elf, travelling with the main force, was brought with them to act as a guide. It did not take long before Anton found himself confused and concerned.

He found himself staring at something that shouldn’t exist in this world, yet it clearly did. Anton’s mind tingled, not from magic or from the charge but from memory. A memory of Earth. A small dirt pathway, leading away from the still infested cities, was flanked with giant red Shinto style archways. Large brass bells, intricately detailed metalwork with dull red tassels hanging from below, faded with age and exposure, swayed back and forth in the gentle breeze. A tiny chorus of ringing bells broke the otherwise silent forest.

“Something wrong?” Verona asked gently.

Some of their Dark Elf escorts drew their bows, aiming into the darkness. Tuccac led the majority of the forces assaulting the Storm Strider Island while Anton took a sizeable detachment with him. More than enough to deal with any Goblin threat.

But against a Strega Witch? That Necromancer didn’t look weak, he had a small army at his side and it was still useless in a fight against Ferula…

“Maybe we should just burn the forest down.” Anton mused. Verona tapped his side. “Sorry. These things.” Anton tapped the upright beams. “These look nearly identical to something from my world. But… This is something different.”

“I… I don’t understand.” Verona glanced at Kal and Cetina. Neither had any idea either.

“The Sand Timer is useful. It had a reason to recreate. But these…” Anton counted thirty Shinto Archways, probably more around the bend obscured by the thick shrubs and trees. “These have no purpose beyond…Well, culture. I don’t feel anything magical coming from them. Though I could be wrong.”

“If they were part of the defences they’d be closer to the artefacts.” Kal looked into the forest. “They aren’t in there…”

“Where is that Dark Elf?” Anton asked aloud.

A single man was pushed through to the front. He appeared extremely nervous to come face to face with Anton. He didn’t think he was menacing or intimidating, in the slightest really, but they had all borne witness to his magic.

“Lord Anton.” The Dark Elf bowed.

“What are these things?”

“Ah. They’re called Torii.” The Dark Elf smiled, a fond memory surfaced in his mind. “They’re used to ward off evil spirits.”

I don’t know what they were used for in Japan so I’m going to have to just go with it.

“Are ghosts real?” Verona asked.

“We’ve seen zombies and ghouls,” Cetina said quietly.

“My question is if they are magical,” Anton asked the Dark Elf. “I don’t intend to damage or interfere with them but I need to know.”

“I…I don’t believe so. The bells have some sort of warding on them but the main archway, no.”

“Keep advancing,” Anton ordered. “But be careful not to touch the Torii. But if you need them to shield yourself don’t hesitate.”

The Dark Elf looked a little distressed but he understood the reality of the situation.

“Just keep your wits about you, everyone.” The Dark Elves ensured their weapons were ready. “If there are Strega Witches here you’ll only have one shot. Probably not even that.”

Anton summoned a small Lightning Crow to scout their destination. It didn’t appear to find anything, strange in a place still crawling with Goblins, Goblins whose corpses seemingly covered the main roads but were absent from this area. He kept it circling above as they carefully advanced up the small dirt pathway.

At the end of the dirt pathway, after passing through easily forty Torii’s, the castle holding the artefacts emerged through the forest; a large squat octagonal building. It looked far more like the normal Dark Elf buildings rather than the Green Moon or Mist Walker fortresses. Outside of the castle walls lay the corpses of Dark Elf defenders, some slumped over the walls. These had been dead for some time, the smell nauseating. There was no way to tell if any were women though it was difficult to say which fate was worse. The gate was left ajar, a corpse lay in the gap preventing it from being closed.

“The artefacts are inside the castle.” The Dark Elf said. “Down below, I think.”

“You’ve never been here?”

“No. My father worked here, so he told me a little about it.”

Strega magic perhaps…

Anton held the man’s shoulder and searched through his body for any hint of the green smoke. When he found nothing he relinquished his hold, convinced that they weren’t being led into a trap.

“What was that for?”

“Don’t worry.” Anton smiled. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t being used.”

The Dark Elf looked very confused but didn’t press the issue.

What concerned Anton the most wasn’t the dead bodies, they would be buried later, but the lack of Goblins. The castle was still and silent baring the gentle gongs of the large brass bells. A large red circular ward drew his attention, one nearly identical to the markings found at Balefire Mine. Anton touched them with a stick. Tiny green sparks, evaporating into smoke, flew into the air. The stick grew hot and began to smoulder after only touching for a second.

“These are much better than the one’s Ferula made for Balefire.” Anton mused as he ordered the Dark Elves to move in through the open gate. “So why didn’t she make it like this?”

“She did say it was old,” Verona said softly. “Maybe it just…ran out? Maybe they need to repaint it every few days or something.”

“It didn’t stop the Ghlotsm,” Kal said dryly.

Anton looked down to the Dark Elf corpses. “Didn’t save these poor souls.”

The interior of the castle temple was unusually open and spacious. Once inside the wall only one building appeared of any significance, smaller buildings scattered the area but these were bunkhouses and kitchens, thoroughly abandoned and ruined by a Goblin attack. On the far side of the castle stood the temple building, its peak rising above the wall. Cetina grunted and moved in front, her shield raised high.

“They’re still alive!” A Dark Elf yelled. He tried to break into a run but the others grabbed and held him back.

Standing before the entrance was a line of Dark Elf warriors. Their eyes glowed green, faint wisps of green smoke leaked from their decayed and missing limbs.

Cetina ground her teeth. “I was hoping it was those other humans…Not these things.”

Anton squeezed Cetina’s shoulder. It took her a moment to relax. Even though they were clearly visible the corrupted Dark Elves didn’t move nor raise their weapons. Those with both arms held Dark Elf bows, knocked but not drawn. They weren’t going to fight. At least not yet.

The last bunch of Strega…Dolls, acted like they were independent of their creator’s will, semi-autonomous. But Eluria and Sancha knew they were under attack…

“Let’s see what they have to say,” Anton said softly. “Stay behind Cetina you two.”

Slowly they approached the line of corrupted Dark Elves, Anton ordered small groups of their Dark Elves to scout the rest of the fort. They found nothing as they stopped a few meters before the line. One corrupted Dark Elf, more intact than the others, stepped forward.

“You cannot enter here.” It spoke with a rasp, light puffs of green smoke punctuated every word. Cetina was utterly furious but held her ground.

“Why not?” Anton asked.

“You would disturb a dangerous ritual of unbinding.” The Dark Elf stopped and continued to stare blankly at Anton.

“At least it says more than no this time.” Anton mused. “So where is your master?”

No response was given.

“Well, we can’t just let you do whatever it is you’re doing. Your kind has done a lot of damage to one of my friends. So, are you going to let us pass?”

“No.” The reply was stern. “We will hold you back until our masters are finished.”

They didn’t move for their weapons, though it was hard to tell if a shambling corpse was readying themselves for a fight.

“We really need to get through,” Anton said. “Unless you want to deal with Ferula.”

The corpses remained unmoving for a moment before stepping aside, except for the lead.

“We are waiting below. Take your immediate friends, the rest will wait here.” The corpse raised his hand. “Attacking us is tantamount to declaring war on the Strega Witches. And Atros cannot hold against them.”

Anton’s blood ran cold for a second. “Am I speaking to a corpse or an actual Strega Witch?”

The lead corpse stepped aside and motioned for them to enter.

“Any ideas?” Anton asked through the ring. “Do we just walk into this trap? If it’s a trap at all.”

“We can wait here,” Verona said. “But then they’ll have finished whatever it is they’re doing. But if we fight them Atros will fall, quickly too.”

“Ferula could move incredibly quickly across the world.” Kal pursed her lips. “Even if we went back to Atros straight away they could still destroy it…And us. I think we should hear what they have to say at least.”

Cetina said nothing, he could feel the anger bursting through her skin.

“We can’t let Atros fall.” Anton held her shoulder. “We simply don’t have the strength to fight them.”

“Not yet at least. Besides, we don’t know how Eluria fits into this. If they’ve thrown her away then we don’t have too much to worry about them.”

“Fine.” Cetina ground her teeth. “Just tell me if you want to fight.”

Anton patted her shoulder again and summoned a few large Fire Imps.

“Back away from these guys,” Anton said. “But don’t hesitate to defend yourselves if they attack.”

“We will not attack unless you do.” The corpse grumbled.

“We’ll see.”

The stone pathway down was rough and slightly uneven. Though this place was supposed to hold powerful artefacts, the number of people coming down this far would be very few. The main pathway began to branch off, each leading to a small cavern. Anton peered inside. It appeared to be a tomb of some kind; a large stone coffin lay in the middle surrounded by an intricate black and purple circle etched into the stone. Around that lay more strange items; swords, amulets and locked boxes also surrounded by the circles, all connected to one another.

Anton found a small stone and tossed it towards the circle. It exploded in a shower of purple sparks.

“I didn’t mean to be disrespectful,” Anton said quietly. “I just needed to know.”

Verona beckoned them forward. The pathway continued for some time, Anton counted over a hundred pathways leading to small caverns, some branched further beyond his sight. Though it was possibly disrespectful to the dead some of the artefacts might be useful. Convincing the Dark Elves to let them take them would be difficult. He had already annoyed the Dark Elves enough.

Finally, a flickering light illuminated the end of the pathway as it flattened out into a massive chamber. Two large stone tombs lay in the centre, with ten concentric circles etched into the ground surrounding both. Two hooded people stood before the last of the circles. It was impossible to see what they were, their thick cloaks covered all of their features except for their hands. One was light-skinned, like Anton and Verona, while the other was darker like Cetina’s. Their hands touched the purple shield, sparks erupted and shot in all directions but left no burns or wounds. The darker one leant down and dipped their hands into a small bucket. A thin oil-drenched their skin. They began drawing a shape on the purple shield with the oil, the oil sparked on contact but remained in the air.

“They’re here.” The darker-skinned person spoke, his voice deep and grumbling.

“And I’d thought we’d be done.” The other was a woman with a sweet and bubbly voice. “I thought we’d have an easy time, unlike with the Stone Men. Damn things.”

The woman turned around while the other continued to work. She was pretty, very pretty, with shoulder-length brown hair, a small button nose and deep brown eyes.

“Hello.” The woman bowed deeply. “My name is Pearl. And this is Nikitas.”

Nikitas grunted and continued applying more oil to the shield.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“This…” Pearl smiled bitterly. “This is an awkward time and place to meet.”

“Indeed.” Anton moved the fire imps in front of them. “Especially in a land overrun with Goblins…Though I don’t think you’re to blame for that…What are you doing?”

“I’m almost done,” Nikitas said softly.

Pearl nodded, turned to Anton and chuckled. “It would take too long to explain what we’re doing here-”

“Then why not just stop doing what you’re doing and talk.” Anton folded his arms, forming magic inside his mind. “We’ve got some time. The Shadow Isles are almost safe now.”

“Nowhere is safe,” Nikitas grumbled, stepping back from the shield. “No one will be.”

“Has this got something-”

No. Better not let them know that we know of the fragments, we don’t know what Ferula’s told them, if anything. I’m sure they’d go to war if they knew we had one of the stones.

“To do with what Eluria wanted with Duran?”

“I can’t tell you that.” Pearl smiled sweetly. “Sorry. But Morgan would kill me if I did.”

“Who?” Verona asked.

Pearl scrunched her eyes. “Our leader…Now. What do you want with us? We’ll be gone very, very soon, if you’ll just let us finish in peace.”

“So what are you doing to that?” Anton asked. “I presume that’s the whale oil, the whale that you lured to the coast and then allowed to rot?”

“And killed a lot of creatures in the process,” Kal added.

“I…We had no choice but to harvest it.” Pearl looked to the shield. “Otherwise we could have been here for days trying to break through. The Dark Elves made these barriers extremely strong.”

“Probably so something wouldn’t get out,” Verona said. “Do you think that’s the reason?”

Pearl laughed. “Sometimes. It really depends…But with this, it’s clear they didn’t want anyone to get in, not the other way around.”

“Is there anything we can do to convince you to stop?” Anton asked.

“No,” Nikitas growled. “You heard the Doll’s, correct? You won’t win against us, but even if you did your city will be destroyed. It’s better just to walk away.”

It might very well be. We have one fragment, and they need all of them…

“You must understand that your presence, along with our…past interactions with Eluria and Sancha has tainted our impression of Strega Witches.”

Cetina ground her teeth.

Pearl bowed her head. “And for that, we are truly sorry. We try not to affect anyone we don’t have to if we can help it.”

Like Lord Cassius?

“But we cannot stop here.” Pearl breathed deep. “Much more weighs on us than a few innocent Bebbezarians.”

“We did beat those two Strega Witches,” Verona said proudly.

Pearl’s eyebrow twitched violently. “I wouldn’t get so conceited, little one. You weren’t fighting them at their strongest, and they wanted to escape. We are neither…I doubt you’d last longer than a few breaths.”

Anton kept his body still.

That was certainly a change. Not a fan that someone got taken down so easily? Ferula said Strega Witches aren’t designed for front-line combat, preferring subterfuge and trickery to win.

“Well…” Verona scratched her head. “That’s different.”

Pearl calmed herself. Nikitas stepped back as the last shield exploded in a shower of purple sparks. Some struck Pearl’s back, she yelped in pain but didn’t flinch. Nikitas approached the stone coffin, pushed the lid off with one mighty heave, and rummaged about inside.

“Not this one.”

“Are you seriously going to defile the dead like that?” Anton asked.

“If we don’t find it we will all soon join them.” Pearl smiled. “And I don’t, and neither do you, want to join them just yet.”

Nikitas pushed the other stone lid aside. Though they were supposedly just witches the stone lids were thick and made from solid stone. Nikitas was no weakling.

“Finally.” Nikitas smiled as he pulled a small stone out of the coffin. It looked identical to Cetina’s fragment, except he wasn’t affected by it.

“No one say its name. They can’t know that we know what it looks like.”

“All this for that?” Verona asked. “A little stone? You can find those just about anywhere.”

“Cute.” Pearl laughed. “You’re very cute.”

She hesitatingly stepped over the tenth ring to Nikitas side. “Is it real?”

“Very real.” Nikitas smiled. “We have what we need.”

“But you can’t just leave like that,” Anton said. “Ferula said that you can teleport away but you can only take your clothes with you…So how do you intend to get out of here?”

“That is our problem.” Pearl winked at Anton. “But you all do seem cute. It’d be a shame if something happened to you all.”

“Is that a threat?” Cetina growled.

Pearl frantically waved her hand. “No! Absolutely not. Just know that when we’re done that everyone will be safe. If we don’t we all might as well kill ourselves right now.”

“I’m sure the Dark Elves are totally fine with you pillaging their tombs while they were fighting the Goblins.” Anton folded his arms. “So their lives don’t mean much to you, do they?”

“If we don’t stop them there won’t be anything alive in this world.” Pearl looked to the ceiling. “Nothing that we would call alive…”

“Time to go,” Nikitas grumbled.

“Right.” Pearl clapped her hands. “So, will you let us go? We haven’t done anything to you or the Dark Elves above…So, how about we all just leave in peace? No one has attacked one another yet. Let’s all just go home and pretend this never happened. Okay? I know I will.”

“With your strange little rock?” Verona asked.

Pearl smiled. “With our little strange rock.”

Anton rubbed his beard. He gently held Cetina’s and Kal’s shoulders, pulling them to the side. “We can’t afford to fight, I don’t think you want to take the chance either.”

“Thank you, Anton.” Pearl breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Eluria was wrong. You aren’t some fool. Well…Time will tell. We’ve only just met after all.”

“And I hope it’s the last time too.” Anton readied to create a Lightning Octahedron.

“I hope so too.” Pearl flashed a smile. “Once we’re finished we’ll stop by Atros, have a good time. I’m sure you’ll have some sexy young men in Atros by then for me to play with.”

Pearl and Nikitas hurriedly walked to the staircase, both sides keeping a firm on each other for any sign of hostility. When they began the ascent Pearl gave a final wave.

“We’ll release the Dark Elves as soon as we’re free,” Pearl shouted down. “They’ll be near the coast, if you want to bury them.”

Anton moved to the base and watched them walk up into the distant light.

Kal grumbled and ruffled her hair. “So powerless. We might have been able to kill them…But it wouldn’t have mattered. There are a lot more of them than there are of us.”

“Fucking witches.” Cetina bounced the bottom of her shield against the stone ground. “Fucking arrogant witch bitches, just like Eluria and Sancha.”

“I thought they were about to attack me before.” Verona laughed, summoning her blood shards. “She didn’t seem to like Eluria.”

“Not at all.” Anton mused. “Do you think we should head back up or have a look at the tomb?”

Verona pushed a blood shard over the concentric circles. They remained dead and lifeless.

“One quick peek.” Verona winked. “Maybe they missed something, something that’ll help us.” She looked up the passageway. “Perhaps an artefact that could help us. You never know.”

“I don’t think we should take anything,” Kal said quietly. “Not unless you want to be shot by the Dark Elves.”

“Let’s be quick. I don’t trust those Strega Witches.”

“We’ve still got the portal stones in case something goes wrong.” Kal tapped a bag on Cetina’s back. “I’ll set them up now, just in case.”

Anton hesitantly took the first step over the purple etchings. He felt nothing even as his boot touched the ground, nor any of the rings. The two had left the bucket of oil behind. It had a faint aroma of something sweet, something earthy but overwhelmingly the smell of fish and fat. Anton decided to keep the bucket, there wasn’t any hint of Strega Magic within, and ask one of the resident Principle Mages if it was any use.

Verona peered inside the first tomb. She tilted her head, letting out a cute squeak in surprise.

Inside the tomb lay the skeletal remains of a person; human or Dark Elf he couldn’t be sure, tattered remains of clothes had all but disintegrated, the tiny fragments draped over the dusty bones. However, it was arranged like a knight; both hands crossed over their chest while holding a sword. Nikitas’ handprint was clear on the dust covering his collapsed rib cage, where he had pushed down to rip something from a short brown tassel on the end of the sword. While the person’s body hadn’t transformed, like Anton’s had upon touching the stone, the sword itself drew his attention. The sword was slightly curved and sheathed in an old leather cover, leather so old it had cracked and disintegrated from Nikitas touch.

“You-You recognise this?” Verona asked.

“Maybe.” Anton tapped the edge of the tomb. “Sorry, whoever you are. But I need to borrow this for a moment.”

Anton reached in and retrieved the sword. The rigid leather sheath disintegrated further as he touched it. He chanted a prayer to restore it, the leather grew darker and reformed. There wasn’t much in the way of identifying markings on it. The sword’s handle didn’t have many markers or symbols either. Anton pulled the sword free. It had rusted heavily but his mind knew exactly what it was.

A katana.

“Not exactly.” Anton held the blade close to his face. “It’s a little short. Not that I’ve seen a real one before. A soldier perhaps…What was Japan doing during the First World War? Maybe one used during the Second World War?”

“Words.” Verona poked his side. “Please use words. We can’t read your thoughts, and it’s never a good sign when you make that sort of face.”

“I’ll explain up top.” Anton looked to the pathway up.

“What’s in the second one?”

The second tomb held another person arranged like a knight. The clothes were different but still lacked any defining features. This skeleton didn’t hold a blade but their hands were clasped together. The clasped hands covered a piece of white cloth, stained with dust and ruined by age, but something still remained. Anton leant in, apologising to the corpse, and moved a hand. A small red cross lay inside, a red cross surrounded by white. Only then did Anton realise the clothes were actually a dress; the hemline ended halfway down their shins forming a line across the bones. The head, nothing but a dusty skull, rested on the remains of a white cloth knotted into a cap.

“Again.” Verona quickly tempered her voice as she held his hand. “This is doing something to you, isn’t it? It’s not that tail thing…”

Anton blinked to focus himself. “No. It’s not.”

Verona took Anton’s side and refused to let go. Anton’s head was still disrupted as he reached the top and back into the fresh air. The corrupted Dark Elves were gone, the still living Dark Elves waited in their positions ready to strike. They were clearly rattled by something, not that it was too hard to guess what.

“Have they gone?”

“They have.” The Storm Strider Dark Elf ran towards him. “Two humans emerged, they said that you made some sort of agreement, and took those glowing Dark Elves with them.” He pointed to the north. “They took them that way. Do you want us to follow them?”

“No. They aren’t a threat.”

More that we shouldn’t anger them, because we’ll lose.

“They looked pretty dangerous…What’s that?”

“This?” Anton raised the short Katana. “Those two looted a tomb in the bottom of the castle. They stole something, I don’t know what it was, but it was attached to this.”

The Dark Elf hesitantly touched the blade. “This…This is a sacred relic from the founding days of The Shadow Isles, when the Dark Elves were still bands of warring tribes.”

“The founding days…” Anton nodded. “We’ll return this to a leader of the Storm Strider Clan. Maybe it’ll raise their spirits to know their artefacts survived.”

“Not just put it back now?” Verona asked.

Anton shook his head. He pointed to the opened gate. The doors were now fully open, a small horde of Goblins were approaching.

“How?” The Dark Elf readied his bow.

“Those witches removed the wards once they were done.” Anton smiled. “Well, they don’t think this war is theirs. At least they didn’t try to bury us alive.”

Anton looked to the large Fire Imps. “Kill all the Goblins in range.”

The fire imps leapt across the ground, throwing themselves into the approaching horde. The Goblins screamed as they were torn apart by the flaming blades and claws.

“We’re retreating to the land bridge,” Anton said. “After that you’ll be sent to other units.”

“Why aren’t we going after those two?” The Dark Elf demanded, walking in front as his eyes flicked to the sword. “They broke through all those barriers and pillaged our artefacts! They must be punished.”

Anton patted his shoulder. “The Goblins are the ones destroying your homes, not them. But do not worry. They will get their comeuppance, one day.”

He didn’t like the response but accepted it all the same as Anton summoned more Lightning Crows and directed them to clear a path.

---[]---

The Storm Strider side of the land bridge had already been transformed into a small fortress, more a hidden encampment. Dozens of Goblins corpses littered the ground, a few Dark Elves moved about while they recovered the arrows. Unfortunately, the land bridge had submerged underneath the rising sea. On the other side, Anton could see the camp continuing to grow. It wouldn’t be long before the island was back under their control.

“Want to tell us what that’s all about?” Verona asked softly.

Anton nodded. “As soon as we get these guys back into the fight.”

Anton found a local commander, about to order a group of reinforcements to the front, and assigned him their escorts. The Storm Strider Dark Elf was still hesitant to let the blade go from his sight. The moment Anton asked for a secured tent he received it. It was quite large, one that was going to be a supply tent, and most importantly relatively soundproof, so long as they kept their voices low.

“I don’t remember anything about something like this,” Verona said as she sat on a supply crate. Anton sat next to her, Kal on the other. Cetina sat opposite, her sword resting across her lap. Her metal boot tapped uncontrollably on the grass.

“Cetina? How are you holding up?”

Cetina stopped bouncing her leg and smiled. “At least you didn’t ask if I was okay. I can’t believe we just let two Strega Witches walk away, with one of those stones.”

“Ferula said they need all twenty. And we have one locked away where even Eluria and Sancha, despite being next to the damn thing for ages, couldn’t find it.”

Cetina slowly nodded. “I suppose.”

“What was any of that?” Verona asked. She glanced at the other two girls. “I know they want an answer just as much as I do, it’s just that I’m going to be the loud one to say it.”

Anton tapped the sword. “In my world, before I was born, there was a war. A war the size and scale no one had ever seen before. This sword, if I’m right, came from Japan…Or was it the Empire of Japan? I’m not entirely sure which era it came from but I have a good idea. And I believe they had swords like this during their war.”

“What are you talking about?” Cetina asked softly. “I…I don’t understand.”

“I’ll explain a bit more about my world’s history one night-”

“I love those stories.” Verona smiled, bouncing from side to side. “Always so interesting.”

Kal raised her hand. “But that war, on Earth, happened relatively recently for you. But the Dark Elves were conquered by the United Empire long before that. So…How?”

Anton shrugged. “Time is a strange thing. Especially when you’re travelling between worlds and realities, not that I know what’s meant to be normal. Who’s to say he didn’t get thrown five or ten thousand years before I did?”

Verona clapped her hands. “Right. So a soldier from your world comes here, unites the Dark Elf tribes and dies. They worship him as a great leader and bury him with his weapon-”

“And a fragment.” Cetina quietly added.

“Which explains why this world’s writing is so similar.” Anton held his chin. “And the other tomb was of a woman. A nurse…I think a British nurse.”

“But.” Kal rubbed her brow again. “I remember you saying they were on opposite sides.”

Anton nodded. “They were. But if she’s a British nurse it explains why we all speak the same language…Not entirely though. It should have changed over time.” Anton shrugged. “But I’m glad it didn’t. It would have made it almost impossible for me to talk with you when I arrived in Atros. We might not even be alive.”

“But the soldier speaks and write another language to the nurse so why have one of each and not just pick one…” Kal groaned. “I’m trying to work this out and it’s a little confusing.”

“I’ve just given up.” Verona chuckled.

“And then the language spread from The Shadow Isles after the United Empire captured it.” Kal titled her head. “That’s a strange thing to do.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” Cetina asked.

“It should…There’s bound to be a good reason. Maybe there were a thousand languages on the mainland, each from a proud nation, and to unite them they picked a foreign language, so they wouldn’t be forced to learn their enemies’ language. A single unifying language which slowly eroded the others, since they no longer had any use outside of their individual clans. Maybe…” Anton tapped the sword. “How did you end up here? How did both of you at the same time? There was one place where you could have met, I think it was the Battle of Singapore, but you’d both have to have died to be brought here…An unlucky shell hit you both?”

“Sea shell?” Verona asked, tilting her head.

“No. But I know you’re going to love it when you see them for real…Wait.” Anton snapped his fingers. “If he was a soldier then he should have had a gun. A rifle. Or even a pistol, not just a sword. If it brought this, I brought my clothes with me, then it should exist here too somewhere.”

“If you had one of those guns them I’m sure the Dwarves could easily make one.” Kal smiled.

“But we didn’t see one in the tombs.” Verona folded her arms in deep thought. “Where would they keep something like that?”

“What’s a gun?” Cetina asked, the current line of conversation was flying right over her head.

“I’ll explain later.” Anton turned back towards the centre of the mainland. “The Mist Walkers were supposed to have a whole bunch of relics too…What could be more powerful than a non-magical wood and metal stick that could kill people with sound?” Anton chuckled. “Leave the Storm Striders to have a simple sword while they take the magical weapon, a weapon that would soon stop working. Especially when they ran out of ammunition. Not that they would know that.”

“Is that our next destination?” Verona asked. “I mean, how much more can we annoy the Dark Elves?”

Kal chuckled. “You seem rather happy with that idea.”

Anton gently nodded. “Even if we don’t get any Dark Elves to settle in Atros, we get those weapons and this whole thing would have been worth it. Everything. Both wars. And even this damn tail.”

Anton bit onto his fingernails. “We might actually be able to fight against the Demons. If only they’re to be kind enough to wait for us to be ready.”