Chapter 161:

Wine and food flowed in great rivers at the large Dark Elf town. The town was the largest on the Mainland, recently reclaimed from the Goblin horde. After their defeat at the Green Moon Fortress their resistance completely collapsed. The remaining island were quickly cleared of Goblins and order restored. One final issue remained.

What happened next?

Gerin called a meeting of every high-level Clan leader, from the Mainland and the Islands, to discuss the future. Anton and his companions had been invited as well. They stood out amongst the hundreds of Dark Elves, if only by their lighter skin. Anton ensured they remained near the peripheries of the celebration. He didn’t want to diminish their victory but also not to garner too much attention.

“I wonder how Gerin’s going to take the exodus of Dark Elves.” Anton mused quietly to the girls. All three returned a confusing glance. “We’re taking…around twenty-four thousand Dark Elves, over a period of time, but they will be missed. And after such a horrible war. They're going to need to repopulate.”

Verona sniggered, pointing to the frolicking Dark Elves. “I think there’s going to be a whole bunch of new Dark Elves after tonight. I know that Ceccitol said that they could only get pregnant once every thirty days…But they’re definitely going to try.”

Verona wasn’t exactly wrong. The disparate groups, Mainlander and Islanders, mingled together. A gratuitous amount of alcohol removed many psychological barriers and gave those wavering a heaping of courage, albeit fuelled by their impaired functions. It appeared to be having some success; many couples were starting to form, some a bit more aggressively than he would like to see. The Dark Elf women didn’t need rescuing though. Not if their prowess as warriors was anything to judge by.

“Better get that bed before we leave.” Anton took a sip of the Dark Elf wine. “Hmm…Everyone in this world, at least the nobility, seems to know how to make good wine.”

“The food is really good too.” Kal smiled warmly, wrapping her arm around his spare and into her chest. “But I’ll be so glad to head back home.”

"Settle down a bit for the winter," Verona said. "Stop travelling so much and get to know Atros."

Verona rubbed her stomach. "But you and I both know that Anton's not going to let a bit of snow stop his meandering adventures."

Anton spied Ceccitol and Tuccac manoeuvring their way through the crowds, their children close behind. Both wore traditional Dark Elf garb, with Ceccitol’s thigh slit reaching much higher than normal and Tuccac's neckline much lower, showing off a rather well-toned chest.

Anton bowed his head as the two approached. Verona waved at the children, the girls nervously returned it, intimidated by Verona's physique, while the boy eagerly returned his. Kal and Cetina gently waved as Ceccitol stopped before Anton.

"This...I didn't think we'd actually win." Ceccitol gently shook her head whilst smiling. A pair of golden ear chains poked through her dead straight black hair. "Part of me thought we would have to all flee to Atros; our children would never know the beauty of our island home."

"And they will." Kal glanced to Gerin, standing on a raised platform with several important Island Clan leaders, even one or two Mainlanders. "So long as your father does everything right."

Ceccitol silently nodded. "He has agreed to the plan. No one else knows, yet, but I'm sure they're going to be very happy with the result."

"Is there going to be a good time for us to leave?" Anton softly asked. "We aren't going to regret coming here, are we?"

Ceccitol frowned and tilted her head.

"All these leaders, in one place." Anton rested a hand on his waist, just above a small dagger. "If something were to happen to them..."

Again Ceccitol appeared confused. Tuccac gently leant into her ear, the colour quickly drained from her face.

"No!" Several nearby Dark Elves looked over for the sudden outburst. Ceccitol flattened her already smooth shirt. "At least, not that I'm aware."

She leant close, Anton's nose detected a strange fruity perfume. "But you would have already planned for that. Right?"

“We have.” Anton smiled. “And we can escape in just a few seconds. We’ve…We’ve had some practice.”

Cetina kept the portal stone bag slung over her shoulder, one of the reasons why they remained near the wall. It was enchanted with a protective prayer to give anyone, except them, a near-lethal shock. For a child, it probably would be. Not to mention Verona’s fresh blood. She had secured a single small pot in a special place, hidden in her chest, where no one would be able to reach.

“Well…I don’t think there will be.”

“Gerin wouldn’t be able to control the clans,” Tuccac said softly. “It’s not in his interest to do something like that.”

Not when he can keep issuing orders through the Mist Walker Elders messengers. That gives him effective control over the entire Dark Elf race. Well, except those in Atros.

“I don’t think he would.” Anton glanced around the room. No one had any significant weapons, apart from them and a select few. "But power and its promises can warp even the purest of intentions. That's something that weighs on my mind."

“My father is going to be busy for some time.” Ceccitol glanced to Gerin, still talking with the other leaders. “He’s told me that…Would five thousand DuskReaver settlers be acceptable?”

“That’s a little less than we were promised.” Verona folded her arms. She glanced at Anton. “Not that we’re complaining too much but…still.”

“Is it because of the other clans?” Kal asked softly.

Ceccitol shook her head. “No. We need everyone we can get to rebuild. But I think Gerin might know of that…”

“It was a part of our original agreement.” Anton rubbed his chin. “But…Things have definitely changed since then.”

“Indeed…”

"If we don't meet your father before you do tell him that is acceptable." Ceccitol’s face softened to his words. "We will pay for building materials and food. I hope that you can actually trade with the outside world now. Start to get some money flowing into The Shadow Isles."

"And our goods too." Verona chimed in. "Whenever we start making enough stuff to sell. Do you like...Really strong alcohol?"

Ceccitol laughed. “Some of us do. But if it’s anything like those dwarves enjoy then it might be a little much.”

"There is something." Tuccac began. "I've been told that some of your Green Moon Elves are missing someone?"

"Yes. Calo and Sheso are missing their mother. Apparently she was in the south of The Shadow Isles when the attacks started in earnest."

"My father...In-law thought it would be a good idea to have her go with you." Tuccac smiled. "Not because we dislike the Green Moon, but she should be with children."

"Is she here?" Verona asked. "I remember those sly little twins mention she was a Principle Mage."

"She is. But I'll leave it to you to determine how powerful. Understanding magic is not my strong point."

"Not mine either," Anton said softly.

Tuccac raised a questioning brow followed by a smile. He didn't understand that Anton didn't know how he would fare against a Principle Mage of his calibre.

A Dark Elf couple approached, Anton had trouble distinguishing them from the rest but Ceccitol clearly knew who they were.

"Anton, this is Praanvi. Mother of Calo and Sheso."

The woman bowed but only slightly. Despite the slim clothes, her stomach was quite large, too large to simply be fat.

The timing of that...If the pregnancy takes about the same length as a human’s...This could be interesting.

"Hello." Praanvi smiled, took a step forward and bowed her head again. "Did you actually save my daughters? They’re alive and well?"

"We did. And a thousand others too."

Praanvi visibly relaxed, her partner's emotions copied hers.

"Currently they're recuperating, with lots of food and rest. They were very, very thin when we arrived."

"Thank you again. All of you. When I heard what was happening I simply couldn't believe it." Praanvi began bobbing her head to and fro. "Are they here? Leran? My brother, Cagec? Or..."

"They aren't on The Shadow Isles." Tuccac cut through the awkward silence. "They have taken refuge with Anton and his followers-"

"Followers," Verona muttered very softly. "Nice way of putting it."

"-in the southern continent. And I don't know if they shall return."

"That is their choice to make," Anton said. "But I don't think they will. Too many terrible memories. And the other clans still aren't on the best of terms."

"No." Praanvi sighed lightly. "When I travelled south I was not looked kindly upon. Anyone from the Green Moon will always have a rough life in The Shadow Isles."

"Yes..." Anton glanced to Verona and Kal, both of whom simply tilted their heads. "This war had been going on for quite some time. Now, I'm no expert in Dark Elves bodies-"

Verona opened her mouth but Kal clamped it shut.

Anton leant closer to Praanvi. "That you should not still be pregnant if you left before the Green Moon Island fell."

Praanvi glumly nodded. "That’s…Correct. The Green Moon clan knows more about humans than most Dark Elves. And…” She looked to the man standing beside. “My husband…Was not a good man.”

“Political?” Kal asked. “So the Green Moon would survive?”

Praanvi gently ran a hand through her long straight black hair. “Kind of. Leran, my father, wanted, maybe needed, more resources for…”

Praanvi’s body tensed, her fingers gripping tight on the few loose strands of hair.

“We found the ships,” Anton said calmly, Praanvi began to panic slightly. “Hidden in the fortress on the north of the island. And the plunder from merchant ships, quite recent plunder too, which you shouldn’t have.”

Praanvi and her partner looked terrified at Ceccitol and Tuccac.

“It’s okay.” Ceccitol did her best to calm them with a smile, with mixed results. “No one blames you. And everyone is willing to let it go. And the human’s they’ve raided will probably just put it down to human pirates rather than the Green Moon Clan.”

“Not much they can do about it either,” Tuccac smirked. “One advantage of staying away from the rest of the world, it’s rather difficult to bring an army against us.”

We got here pretty easily. Launch a hundred ships and some will get through…Only to get peppered by a thousand arrows from the darkness. Probably not that easy, unless you have a virtually unlimited supply of soldiers. Like the United Empire clearly had at their disposal.

“I see.” Praanvi nervousness faded. “I feel a little better knowing that.” She smiled at her partner. “It was something that I was always worried about spilling whenever I went out drinking.”

“Not when you’re pregnant, I hope,” Verona said.

Praanvi shook her head. “No. I…”

“Speaking of.” Anton nodded to her partner.

“My name is Iveta.” The man bowed. “I met Praanvi during her stay on our island, when she was collecting materials for her magical experiments and we…went from there.”

“How lovely.” Verona laughed. “I bet you two were all cute and blushing to one another.”

Their reactions confirmed Verona’s suspicions.

“Do you want to see your children?” Anton asked. “It’s more than possible to come and go between The Shadow Isles.” He glanced to Gerin. “Though over the next little while it’s probably going to be a little hectic."

“My children…” Praanvi rubbed her swollen stomach. “I can’t see them while I’m still carrying Iveta’s child. I’ve told them all my life you should be loyal to the one you love and yet I’ve done…The exact opposite.”

“Regardless your children still miss you.” Anton gently sighed. “They do worry about you, they don’t even know if you’re alive. I know it was in their thoughts even when they were under siege and starving.”

“They told you that?”

Anton slowly nodded. “So, will you at least talk to them? Even if it’s just for a day? Just so they know their mother is safe.” Anton motioned to her stomach. “From what little I’ve heard from them about their father they didn’t sound too sad to see him go. They might understand that things in life are complicated, at the best of times.”

I’ve got no idea how those two are going to react. Doubt it’ll be bad but if they consider marriage a very high position, something to be honoured above all else, then it might just backfire.

Praanvi continued to pick nervously at her fingers. “I, I don’t have too much longer with my pregnancy. I’ll see them once my child has been born. I think that might make it easier for them, to actually see a baby. Rather than my bulging stomach and waddling legs.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“I’m sure they’d understand.” Verona planted a hand on her hip. “I hate to say this but it sounds like you don’t want to see-"

Verona was cut short by the clanging of glass coming from Gerin. The other leaders had dispersed leaving him alone on the raised platform. Praanvi and Iveta hurriedly made themselves scarce as the room’s attention quickly fell upon the Lord of the DuskReavers.

“Thank you, everyone.” Gerin held a warm but slightly reserved smile. “I know that things have been extremely difficult; the war has dragged on for too long while we have lost many that we hold dear and true to our hearts. But now, I can safely say, the Goblin threat has been eliminated.”

The slightly drunken Dark Elves cheered. Anton took the opportunity to hold his ring finger tight.

“Keep a close eye on anyone that’s moving close, any type of shadow that moves strangely nearby. Those two Shadow’s might have been the only ones owned by the Mist Walkers, and we have their clothes, but it doesn’t mean they don’t have spares.”

“I’m ready.” Verona tapped the top of her chest. “Just give the word and this will go flying out.”

Anton hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.

“However we must never become lax again, for that’s what allowed this entire situation to occur.” Gerin took a deep breath. “The Green Moon, though not the most popular clan, should never have been left to their doom. The Mist Walker Elders agree and have given me the authority to ensure that nothing like this can happen again.”

Murmurs of discontent emerged from the Mainlander Clans.

Gerin raised his hand, quelling the noise. “I understand that many of you are not entirely comfortable with an Islander Clan leading you, even though we did a considerable amount of the fighting.”

Gerin scrunched his free hand tight in an attempt to not let anything slip.

“Regardless, I have a number of directives that will ensure the continued growth of The Shadow Isles; expanding trade with the Human and Dwarven realms, lowering taxes on all clans and ensuring greater defensive cooperation. Trade will also be allowed out of all ports on the islands, so long as that clan allows it, without tariffs and restrictions. The Shadow Isles will be stronger than ever before. Of that you can be sure.”

As ever, the prospect of gold and an increase to personal freedom appealed to even the most stubborn of leaders. And the prevention of another Goblin outbreak was just a bonus. Providing another Red wasn't born anytime soon. Now the Mainlanders were much happier and, most important, compliant. Small groups began to form even though Gerin was clearly not finished.

I just hope the Ancient Listener's, or whoever is behind this, has lost all of their routes into The Shadow Isles. Otherwise we'll be dealing with this for years. Even longer if they can move more than just a few people at a time.

Gerin raised his hand again. "The Green Moon Clan, which managed to survive the onslaught, has decided to leave The Shadow Isles. We do not know if this is permanent or not but their island will become a military base and an area where our new trading vessels can be built and serviced."

No mention of their ships, those really belong to us now.

"The other two islands will be repopulated by a mixture from all of our clans to form two entirely new clans. We should not valuable land go to waste, nor let them become a new source of conflict."

Again there was a murmur of agreement.

"Anything strange throughout the crowd?" Anton asked through the ring.

"Nothing yet," Cetina replied. “Everyone seems focused on Gerin. For better or worse.”

“They’re all gossiping about how much money they’re going to make,” Verona grumbled. “But there’s one group that still seems a bit miffed.”

“Where?”

“By the door.” Kal flicked her eyes towards a large group. “Mist Walkers I think.”

The group of very discontented elves did indeed have the tassels of the Mist Walkers. Out of everyone present they had the most to lose. Even though Gerin, through Anton’s unsubtle threats, had the effective word of the Mist Walker Elders they would eventually demand to see them.

“The Mist Walker Elders are extremely busy formulating a path forward,” Gerin said loudly. “As such, they will be almost unavailable to most people, even to their own clan. They can still be contacted through their official messenger….”

The other clans, even the Mainlander’s, chuckled derisively at the Mist Walkers. Their murmuring vanished, replaced with silent contempt.

Guess they never really saw their leaders. At least things will be relatively the same. They might start to think things have become better under Gerin. At least that’s the plan. Let’s see how that goes.

Gerin waved down the Mist Walker’s bubbling anger. “The Mist Walker Elders have appointed a member of their clan to delegate the day to day activities while they continue to work on creating a better and stronger Shadow Isles.”

A Dark Elf, to the side of the platform, raised and waved his hand. His tassel was identical to the Mist Walker’s colours. Anton, however, found him to look a little…Simple.

There’s always a stooge, so long as you look hard enough. If Gerin’s smart he won’t have told him anything. At least all the heat will be directed at him. He’ll definitely need mercenaries to keep him safe, extremely well-paid ones at that.

“And finally it would be rude of me not to thank the human, and Beast-kin, mercenaries that aided us in our fight.”

Everyone’s attention fell upon them, Anton smiled and bowed his head. The girls remained resolute but Kal clearly didn’t like so much attention, judgmental at best, neither did the others.

“Many of you have not met them but have felt their efforts. Many warriors, who would have been grievously wounded or mutilated for life will now live a long and happy life. Without them…” Gerin paused for a moment, long enough for those closest to him to turn back to him. “Things would not have turned out the way they have. I fear that the discovery of the Red Goblin and the Mottled Goblins would have gone unnoticed until far, far too late. Perhaps so late that we simply wouldn’t have survived. Thank you.”

A round of light clapping filled the building. Anton held his smile as it petered away.

“With that settled, please drink and eat to your heart's content. Tomorrow the rebuilding begins in earnest!”

This time the cheers were much more intense and genuine as the groups began to begin their revelry.

“No sign of anything, Anton,” Cetina spoke calmly. “Were you honestly expecting something?...Again?”

“Keep alert. All of you.”

Gerin’s gripped his hand tight as he stepped down from the platform. The Mist Walker stooge tried to speak with Gerin but he politely brushed him aside and motioned towards Anton.

Looks like he thinks he’s an equal partner in all of this. I certainly hope not. Gerin just needs to make sure he thinks that he is. Give him a few pointless responsibilities, shouldn’t be too hard.

“A little short, I know.” Gerin stopped beside her daughter. “But I think it got the message across.”

“From what I’ve seen the Dark Elves aren’t one for dramatic and lengthy speeches.” Anton smiled. “Perhaps the Mainlanders, I haven’t really spoken to many.”

Gerin laughed. “Indeed. I think they’ll be a little bit more behaved now.”

“Your new friend is aware of what’s happening?” Kal asked softly.

Gerin shrugged. “He knows enough to not ask questions. So long as he keeps his mouth shut he’s effectively in command of the Mist Walkers.”

“I see.”

“So, is your time on The Shadow Isles almost up?” Gerin asked. “Ceccitol and Tuccac told me that you have many more plans beyond simply gaining thousands of Dark Elves.”

“We do. But with winter arriving we’ll be slowed down, a bit. Though we still have a lot of work cut out for us. Next up is the Dwarves.”

“Wilford should be arriving there soon.” Verona murmured softly.

“Only a few have asked about the Dwarves,” Gerin said. “But I believe most simply attributed it to you, as additional mercenaries. They didn’t question how it is possible to traverse such distances seemingly instantly.”

“It’s not just the Dark Elves from your clan.” Anton felt his body tense slightly. “I will be taking settlers from almost all of the Island Clans. As was part of our agreement, that we would take in some from the DuskReavers and any others that we could convince.”

Gerin appeared completely nonplussed. “It doesn’t concern me. Actually, it might be for the best. The more Dark Elves we can get out of The Shadow Isles the safer our race will be. Now…There is one last thing to be done before our business has truly concluded.”

Gerin took a step closer, Cetina’s hand moved to the hilt of a small dagger while Verona readied herself without moving a muscle.

“The issue that you hold in your lands. The very important ones.”

Anton sighed. “We shall be returning home immediately. And we’ll deal with that problem. Permanently.”

Gerin nodded and held out his hand. Anton shook it, the Dark Elves were very warm.

“Thank you, Anton. Lady Verona, Kal and Cetina. Thank you for helping us. The Dark Elves will help you and Atros whenever we are able.” Gerin smiled. “And I hope that you will come to our aide, should the need arise.”

“I just hope it isn’t the Goblins again.”

Gerin faintly nodded. “Take care.”

Gerin gave everyone a single nod and left. Ceccitol and Tuccac made a quick goodbye, Tuccac was only willing to shake hands while Ceccitol was far more intimate, leaving them alone in the corner of a room filled with Dark Elves quickly falling into a level of debauchery.

“I think we should go now,” Cetina mumbled. Her eye was locked onto a pair of Dark Elves kissing as if it was the last time they would see another living being.

“We should.” Anton grimaced. “But Gerin’s right. There’s something we have to take care of before we can really start to relax.”

---[]---

Anton stood outside of the Atros prison. The guards were perfectly silent as they stood to the side, Verona, Kal, Cetina and Rasha stood just behind him.

“I can do this if you want,” Rasha said softly. “I promised you I would, you don’t need to do this yourself.”

“I should.” Anton took a deep breath. “I was the one that ensured they survived and lingered. Lingered in this strange land in a tiny shack with virtually no light…I should be the one to do it.”

“You really don’t need to.” Verona stepped forward and held his hand tight. “I can do it with just a flick of my wrist, and they won’t feel a thing.”

“I actually want to ask them something.” Anton frowned lightly. “I want to know, now that they have nothing to lose, why they kept antagonising the Island Clans, even when they surely could have won if they had worked together. I want to know why.”

Anton turned to Kal and Rasha. “I think that might become relevant later. If we can stop it before it becomes an issue…”

Verona pulled hard on his hand, repeatedly until he looked at her. “None of what happened before, before we left for Maxill the first time. Remember?”

Ah. I burnt that person alive. From the inside out. What was her name? Did I even bother to learn it?

“I won’t.” Anton squeezed her hand tight. “I’ll be as painless as I can make it.”

Verona reluctantly relinquished her hold, returning to a slightly concerned Kal. Kal didn’t know about that incident, not that he wanted to speak or dwell upon it any more than necessary.

“Open it up.”

The prison guards shared a glance but did as they were bid. Anton took another deep breath as he entered their rudimentary prison. The Dark Elf Elders remained huddled around the central pillars of the prison, more a barn, with their arms and legs bound to the pillar with thick rope. There wasn’t going to be a similar incident with the knife.

"What do you want now?" The lead Elder asked. He glanced around Anton's shoulder as he rubbed his shoulder, looking for Rasha. "More torture? I don't see that beast with you."

"We haven't tortured you." Anton gently shut the door, someone from outside bolted it shut. "All you had to do was cooperate and Rasha, that beast, wouldn't have had to do a thing. You tried to attack me, remember?"

The Elder shuffled back to the pillar. "So what now? Is the battle over? Have you defiled one of our most precious artefacts already and want another?"

"I have no interest in your artefacts. The one I have is more than enough. And, just so you know, the battle has been won. The Shadow Isles are free from the Goblin menace and order has been restored. It'll take some time but every part will be inhabited once again and the new leadership will ensure it doesn't happen again. Everyone has agreed to it, Mainland and Islander. That and a few bonuses thrown in for them."

"So does that mean we get to go home now?" Another Elder asked softly.

The Elders grew increasingly worried as Anton remained silent. Though old, some terminally so, they understood completely.

"You can't do that." The other Elder's eyes grew wet. "You-"

"I'm sorry."

Anton summoned a barrage of Lightning bombs and threw them at the Elders heads. They barely uttered a word before their heads were consumed in a flash of light and gore. The headless bodies turned limp and collapsed onto the straw-covered ground. The lead Elder turned, utterly stunned and terrified, to his dead fellows.

"What have you done?!" The Elder shrieked. "Why?!"

"I think you know perfectly well why," Anton said softly.

One of the bodies began to twitch violently, their spasming legs tossing bloodstained straw away and over his leg.

The Elder took a deep breath. "Why am I alive? I have no magic, those amulets don't work that way, so..." Fury drenched the man's face, there was little else he could do. "Are you going to torture me now?"

"No." Anton slid to the ground, resting his back against the wall. "I want to ask a few questions."

"Why would I honestly talk to you?"

"What do you have to lose?" Anton shrugged. "I don't want to know something embarrassing or confidential about you or your clan. I want to know why you were so willing to throw away the Island Clans to their deaths, and even perhaps your entire species, because of an ancient grudge."

The Elder looked slightly confused.

"I mean, you had to know you were in serious trouble." Anton sighed. "I want to know what drove you not to work together."

"Why should I answer you?"

"You don't have to." Anton pointed towards the door. "Just out there I am building something that hasn't been seen in ages. Humans and Beastkin working and living together...But many humans look down on the Beastkin, not so much the ones here, and the Beast-kin are not that keen on humans. Especially Seocurians. The only reason why they like me, a human, is because I freed them. Of course the Seocurians were the only ones that didn’t slaughter them outright so they might actually treat them better, once they learn a bit of history."

"Is there a point to this?"

"But decisions will be made, despite what I say or order, based solely on their race. A human commander sending the Beastkin soldiers into a suicidal action. Or the reverse. I want to know what drove you to those decisions."

The Elder nodded slowly. Though his hands were bound he could still reach his head.

"I...I honestly never thought about it." The Elder took a deep breath. "I never once considered it...I mean, we knew..." The Elder glanced to the other dead Elders. "We knew but we just wanted them gone."

"So it did enter your mind but never...took root."

The Elder nodded.

“I see…Would anything, except threatening you, have changed your mind?”

“Gerin, and many others, continually asked us…” The Elder sighed, tightly scrunching his knobbly hands.

“I see.” Anton gently nodded. “Only something violent would have any hope of changing your view. I’ll keep that in mind. How to keep people objective…I wonder I how can do that…Oh well.” Anton stood up, brushing off the loose pieces of straw. “That’s a problem for another time.”

“So-”

Anton struck the Elder in the head with a Lightning Bomb. His body slumped back against the pillar and fell completely still.

“I hope it was painless.” Anton mused softly.

Anton knocked on the door. The guards opened, their faces told him they knew what had happened.

“Take those bodies somewhere and burn them,” Anton told the guards. “Make sure they’re wrapped up so no one sees them. Especially the Dark Elves. Though I’m sure the Green Moon really wouldn’t care, the other clans might. They’ll start arriving in the next few days so don’t delay.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Anton didn’t have the strength to lightly rebuke them. “Once you’re done go find Jeff and see what he wants you to do. I have no idea when we’ll have more prisoners.”

Again the guards gave a curt nod. They moved silently as they entered the room, though Anton heard murmurs as they found the bodies.

Kal peered around Anton. “Was it quick?”

“It was.” Anton nodded. “But I found out everything I needed to know.”

“What could you possibly want from them?” Rasha played with her short red braided hair.

Anton smiled. “Just a bit of perspective for the future. The Beast-kin are going to be a constant issue…Not like that. But it’s something we need to wary about. Humans and Beast-kin…It’s going to take a while before everyone, not just you girls, are fine with humans. There’s a lot of bad blood between us.”

“So was that it?” Verona asked. “Oh. Right, the Islanders and the Mainlanders. Any clues?”

“Sort of.” Anton rubbed his beard. “Sort of. Now-”

Kal held a finger to his lips. “I think it’s time for a little break. For all of us. I think we’ve earned that much.”

“I…Yeah. Conrad’s going to be arriving at the Red Spines in the next day or so…Perhaps a day just relaxing will be good for us.”

Verona chuckled. “That would be nice. A chance to actually finish my clothes.”

“You’re making clothes?” Rasha asked.

Anton nodded, cutting off Verona’s slightly panicked shaking. “She is. And she’s very good at it.”

Something clicked in Verona’s mind. “Well, since Anton let it out a little early, do you both want to see? The first is almost ready. Ah, a whole day where I can actually work on it with nothing to distract us.”

Cetina and Rasha nodded as the first of the Dark Elf bodies were dragged out. Anton didn’t feel particularly good about his actions but it was necessary. There was no way to keep them indefinitely, and what sort of life would they have led? Stuck in a dark, musty barn, slowly going mad? He didn’t want to ponder upon their thoughts in that place.

Anton placed his arms around Verona and Kal. “Come on. While you show Cetina and Rasha what you’ve been working on I’ll cook us up some early dinner. Something nice, lovely cooked meat…and some baked potatoes and salad for Rasha.”

“Baked potatoes?” Rasha leant forward. “What are those?”

“Haven’t you had them before?” Anton smiled. “I know you’ll love them. All of you, especially with a little bitter of butter to brown them up. Some cheese and bacon too, not so much for those that can’t handle it.”

“Sounds good.” Rasha rubbed her stomach.

“More food from home?” Verona sniggered, worming a hand underneath his armour.

“Yeah. After that, I think I need to get my mind on something different. And I’ve always enjoyed cooking. So, who wants something good to eat?"

Anton began walking before even more bodies came out. The girls were silent for a time before they began chatting merrily about their plans for the winter. It certainly sounded like it wouldn't be the relaxing winter wonderland that they all secretely wanted.