“And how did this happen?” Anton asked King Kuwat, tapping a finger on his leg.

Anton did not look directly at King Kuwat of the Fire Elves, sitting in his finely golden trimmed throne, instead focused his attentions on the courtesans and guards surrounding him. Their flaming hair was far more intense than Kuwat’s, but they had a reason not to look at him. The room looked slightly different than before, not the people or the furnishings, but the thin grayish-blue smoke haze that lingered in the air. And it was not just present in the throne room.

“Everything was fine when we left. And that was only two days ago. Two days… And then we hear about this. With nearly a third of Kelis on fire. Smoke is everywhere, I'm honestly surprised that you're still alive."

Anton softly sighed, his voice did not travel far in the throne room adorned with hanging drapes of fine silk. The two days Anton had spent in Atros after reclaiming Jaka had been quite pleasant and relaxing. While it was little more than continuing administrative work; assisting Zuhura in planning Atros’s economy and continued growth, trying to understand Ancient Magic without damaging valuable equipment or himself, and simply spending time with those he cared about, it was nice to take things a little slower, as he originally planned before discovering the Fire Elves. But nothing was peaceful for long in Atros.

“It…” Kuwat sighed himself, glancing to where his wife, Queen Lestari, should have been seated. Instead lay an empty chair, a comfortable one but unmistakably vacant. “It was those damned Southern Quarter Rebels. As usual.”

He cast his attention towards the large tapestries hanging from the throne room walls. Each depicted something, presumably something monumental in their race's history, though Anton doubted there wouldn’t be much after their imprisonment in the cavern.

"Something must have riled them up." Anton said. "We've been delivering food and medical supplies this whole time, so that's hardly going to be an issue."

"I honestly don't know." Kuwat cleared his throat. "But something big to get them to do this. Most of the fire is in theirterritory."

"Would it have anything to do with the relic?" Longinious asked. "Though I'm doubtful they actually care, given how hungry they looked."

Longinious floated behind him, Cetina and Rasha slightly behind, standing of course. They were all that was necessary. Rasha alone would have been sufficient, the Royal Guards eyed her impressive musculature with equal amounts of awe and concern. Only one even tried to speak up when her horn threatened to catch on a low slung sheet of silk.

"And where is Queen Lestari?" Anton continued. "And Prince Naphtali and Princess Wiryono, for that matter. Trying to quell the riots and fires?"

The throne room was silent, save for a solitary servant walking along the very edge of the room.

"My children, of that I am certain. I do not know where my wife is. But I know that she is safe."

“Well, that’s a relief.” Longinious said. "The last thing anyone needs is further chaos."

She had not spoken further on what she had mentioned in the new Laboratory overlooking Dragon Tooth Bay, yet the words and ideas rattled through his head. He had never initially intended to try and reshape the world to something he would consider right. Despite having immense magical power and potential influence he had kept his distance for the most part. Even his arrival and landing in Atros was simple opportunism on the part of Tethra, Esperit and Stratos, the original plan to gain them followers while gaining strength to defeat the impending Demon threat with whatever he could muster. If he had been just dropped into this world aimlessly he would have been more than content to settle down somewhere quiet with Verona and Kal, with some exploring and traveling on the side, though there were many things he simply couldn’t turn a blind eye towards.

I wonder if I’m still overthinking it. Probably, I usually do. But… But in this instance I definitely should be more forceful.

“Something to rile them up. It doesn’t have anything to do with what Naphtali and Wiryono learnt? That Fire Elves have a very high amount of magical potential?”

Not just the nobility, though they were very keen to overlook that fact.

Though Kuwat remained still his hair dimmed slightly. As ever the Fire Elves were adept at hiding their emotions.

“I told them not to say anything.” Anton sighed, more of a groan. “That it wasn’t just the nobility that had it. And I thought…”

Anton stopped himself from talking. There was nothing more to gain from chastising their father, even though he might have eagerly lapped up such a suggestion.

There is the matter of that note Kal received.

“I would ask, King Kuwat, that you ask for peace and calm. And that any further talk of nobility having special magic to be stopped immediately.”

Longinious moved forward. “Especially since we said that.”

“Atros will not accept anyone using us for political purposes.” Anton said. “I hope you understand our position in this.”

Kuwat simply nodded, though a few strands of hair glowed brighter.

"Since I was unable to last time, I would like to speak with the Southern Quarter Rebel leadership, such as it is." Anton tried his best to sound authoritative without insulting or demanding. "Perhaps a different perspective will be helpful. We have been supplying them with food and medicine, surely that has to count for something."

King Kuwat looked at a small group of Noble Fire Elves. Though they looked rather similar to Anton he could tell they were the least vocal group about the loss of their artifact. The chastised Fire Elf was nowhere to be seen.

"King Kuwat," Anton's voice caught the old man slightly off guard. "By your leave, we will do everything in our power to settle this issue.”

Kuwat hesitated briefly before nodding. Anton returned a curt nod, and began to walk from the room. Cetina and Rasha followed closely, their metal armor clanking loudly in the silken throne room. He glanced back to see Longinious taking one last look at the Fire Elven nobility.

“Something you think we missed?” Anton asked.

“No. Just memorizing faces in case they are needed.” She looked at the Fire Elven guards flanking the door, clearly within earshot. “In case something unexpected happened.”

Anton knew it was about the note Kal received. Nothing had happened since, though they had been more concerned with providing them food over interfering with internal political machinations.

The smell of smoke slowly grew stronger as they neared the entrance. The guards continued to eye them warily, until they almost reached the exit and their attitude changed. Bilaal, the Fire Elf Diplomat, hurried out from a narrow side passage.

“Lord Anton.” Bilaal sounded out of breath, though the few days of extra food and basic medical supplies had done wonders to his physique. “I can only apologize that I was unable to meet you before speaking with King Kuwat. I was doing my utmost to convince the other nobles not to do anything foolish. Well, more foolish.”

“It is quite alright, Bilaal. I think that is far more important than simply shadowing us."

Bilaal smiled and ushered them towards the door. Six Fire Elves groaned to push the heavy metal door, the hinges groaning from neglect. Rasha grumbled something before pushing it open herself, with only a single hand much to their awe. Some thanked her, others still stunned by her size. Rasha shrugged and stepped outside.

"If you wouldn't mind walking with me for just a little bit." Anton said. "Just yourself, of course."

Bilaal signaled something to the few following him to stay behind. Outside, Anton took a deep breath and choked back a few coughs. The smoke was quite thick near the Royal Palace, not enough to incapacitate but noticeable. Rasha snorted and shook her head, her long ears striking her helmet.

Anton motioned to the edge of the small grounds in front of the palace, where they could overlook the south of Kelis. The smoke was thickest there, but it was difficult to tell just how much damage had been inflicted upon the slums. Slums laden with beautiful red silk sheets, but a slum nonetheless.

"Naphtali and Wiryono." Anton checked no one was eavesdropping. "They told the nobility, didn't they?"

"Yes." Bilaal answered flatly. "They did. Almost after you left for the surface. A party was thrown and they revealed… I tried to stop things from spreading, but it was impossible. They just couldn’t help themselves. The allure to be the center of attention was just too great."

In a stagnant place like this, anything new would be devoured by the gossiping masses.

"But that doesn't explain this."

Anton gestured to a burnt, collapsed building. The dull red silk sheets had many scorch marks and had wrapped themselves around the remaining beams. It was likely the only thing holding them together. A few Human and Beast-kin medics, for lack of a better term, were carrying thin and spluttering Fire Elves from the wreckage to safety.

"Well…" Bilaal scratched his head through his flaming hair. "It appears some of the nobility took it as a sign they were destined to rule, even though only Prince Naphtali and Princess Wiryono were actually checked."

"I thought they were trying to keep things calm." Cetina said softly.

"They are, in my experience. But they are also of the Royal Family. I believe they were trying to increase their control, relative to the nobility of course. So some decided to flaunt this revelation in the southern areas and, well, you know what happened next."

Anton tapped the stone wall. "Little games… Do you… No. We will do what we can to fix this."

"It is all I and my fellow public servants have ever done." Bilaal smiled. “I try my best to do as well as my father.”

"Generations of this?" Longinious asked, drawing closer. Her floating form was slightly unsettling for Bilaal. "Your father and his father before him?"

Anton knew what she was doing.

"Surely by now your family could have fixed this. Or at least not make the same mistakes, over and over again."

“We are simple bureaucrats and administrators.” Bilaal kept his face, and hair, calm as he warmly smiled. “Our duty is to the people of Kelis. Nothing more.”

Kal’s note said the administrators and bureaucrats are the real force keeping the city in one piece. Was it Bilaal’s child? He certainly would have been allowed in, and Kal said it was near the end. That would sit perfectly in the pecking order for someone who’s not a part of the nobility…

“Should that ever change I would ask that you talk with someone from Atros. They can quickly get the message back to me.”

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean, but I am glad to know that we can gain a quick method of communication.” Bilaal’s hair remained a constant intensity, Anton could not see any indication if he was the origin of the note. “But I’m afraid that I must insist that I and my men accompany you.”

“You? The people the Rebels hate? I’m sure that we won’t get lost.” Anton nodded to Cetina and Rasha. “And Cetina alone is strong enough to throw me about, before… This.”

Anton tapped his thigh.

“So wouldn't you antagonize them with your mere presence? They really don’t like you."

"Despite that, I would like to join you. To ensure that they know that you're not about to join them. As you know, they can jump to conclusions rather quickly."

Anton could see the entrance, the bodies had been cleared away but the image remained in his mind. Of the blood draining down the steep slope, pooling against piles of bodies like a dam.

"Desperation can do that." Anton cleared his throat. "Alright. But so long as you keep it modest. And we'll bring our own too. I'm sure the Southern Quarter Rebels won't mess with a stocky Dwarf."

"It will be a good opportunity to show off our own might."

Bilaal waved to a guard near the palace gate. Anton had already been told their strength was largely bluster, so this was a good way to reinforce it. And they did need someone who knew the way.

“Fine. Let’s see how we can mess this one up.”

Bilaal did not share his casual attitude. With his shoulders slightly drooped he briskly walked towards the other administrators. Rasha knelt next to Anton, her face close enough to feel her hot breath.

"I wanted to say something earlier, but one of those administrator people slipped me something. A piece of paper. But I knew it would have created a scene, so…"

"A very good decision. So what did it say?"

“I haven’t checked. It would be very obvious to everyone.” Rasha looked a little nervous. “And my fingers are so much larger than yours…”

“I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Anton looked at Longinious. “Can you memorize the note? We can’t let them see it.”

Bilaal was some distance away, but there were a growing number of Fire Elf soldiers, and Atros soldiers, gathering and organizing themselves for the journey into the Southern Quarters. Longinious nodded and found the small piece of paper tucked beneath an armor plate. Longinious only required a single glance before slipping the note underneath her own armor.

“A continuation of what Kal received.” Longinious spoke very softly. “Warning us of the duplicity of the Southern Quarter Rebels and extolling their own virtues at effective management and organization of Kelis.”

“They honestly said that?” Cetina asked.

Longinious shrugged. “A simplification. It appears whoever wrote it thinks rather highly of themselves and wishes to convey that through their words.” Longinious tapped the end of her head crest. “Like they swallowed a thesaurus.”

Cetina and Rasha shared a glance.

"And incredible penmanship, honed after many years of continuous writing for discerning recipients."

“Didn’t catch a glimpse of who?”

“No.” Longinious shook her head, her head crest falling slightly. “There were too many and they obscured one another too much. I’m afraid that we will have to simply keep a close eye on them. Although it is clear that it is someone within Bilaal’s close circle.”

Anton watched as the Fire Elves arranged themselves into formation and began to march. “We’ll make our decision after meeting the Rebels. See if they’re as bad as everyone makes out.”

—[]---

Anton shuffled in his plush silk cushion seat. It wasn’t as comfortable as those in the Royal Palace but they were better than sitting on the well-worn stone floor. Especially with his new tail.

“We did not expect you, Surface Dwellers, to come down here.” A soft voice stopped Anton’s subtle wiggling. “To us. We are usually beneath the notice of the Royals and Nobility.”

Before Anton sat the leaders of the Southern Quarter Rebels. Or, that was what they claimed themselves to be. Six Fire Elves, three men and three women, sat with their backs to the wall of the small room. It was quite odd how they could be partnered off at the same age, the oldest had deep wrinkles and murky cataract ridden eyes, but otherwise they seemed as normal as any other malnourished Fire Elf. They had not performed the little ritual before seating themselves, nor had Anton, but he presumed the Southern Quarter Rebels would deliberately avoid anything that could be associated with the Royals and Nobility. Even if it was petty. Especially if it was petty.

“I am more surprised that we found you right away.” Anton shuffled for the last time. “By what I was told, I expected you all to be near impossible to find. Either tucked away in the twisting buildings or in something impossibly lavish. Not someone's home.”

The six faintly smiled, Bilaal grumbled softly. He sat to Anton’s right, his eyes narrow as he stared at the six. Unlike Cetina and Rasha, standing behind him and seated to his left respectively, he had tried to be disarmed in quite a rough and rude manner. In the end they retained all of their weapons and armor. One Rebel Fire Elf had tried to remove Rasha’s weapon and had almost broken his arm from the gentle shove. He would recover, but perhaps with a little more humility and wariness. Longinious rested in the crook of his arm in her Spear Form. It was easier not to explain the floating mermaid, especially when he was trying to smooth over the animosity. The swirling light was still, focused solely on the six, simmering and waiting to strike.

They were not the only Fire Elf Rebels in the room. Behind them stood a dozen heavily armed men; actual pieces of metal armor and well fed, relatively well fed. It was hard to gauge their thoughts with most of their hair hidden and clearly well trained to remain calm. Behind Anton stood a few Dwarven Warriors, clad in plate and chain mail, with a simple axe at their side. The Fire Elves offered great deference to the stout and stocky men.

“We’ve always been here,” The eldest woman said. “They just never wanted to talk with us.”

“I believe-” Bilaal was swiftly cut off by the woman.

"Bilaal, you have tried hard enough to keep things under control." The elderly woman flashed a toothy smile. "But it appears it is no longer within your capacity."

Oh? I thought Bilaal despised them. That Naphtali and Wiryono’s idea of peace and reconciliation was foolish and ultimately pointless. Perhaps this is a bit of Realpolitik? Of course he could have just lied to me.

Bilaal did not reply, merely nodded once.

"Perhaps this will go better than I thought." Cetina softly murmured.

"So," the youngest male clicked his tongue. "What do you want from us?"

"Peace and stability."

The six looked at one another. Nothing spoken, but many thoughts traveled through their faces.

“That seems more than acceptable.” The youngest woman searched for something in her clothes. “Perhaps you could help us in return?”

“I do not see a problem with that.” Anton smiled, once faintly returned. “But I must ask that you stop trying to get through the Gate before we’ve sorted everything out.”

Anton did not receive anything that he might call a pleasant look. Othniel, the lowly ranked Rebel Fire Elf who had been poked and prodded by Mezot, was not the exception with his beliefs about why the Fire Elves were sealed in their cavern.

“You believe that?” The middle aged woman raised a brow. “The Royal’s poisoned words?”

“Yes.” Anton’s bluntness took them aback. “I have met the Goddess Nithroel that would love to have you back under her thrall. I’ve seen the entire country that was ruined by her desire to have you. And I don’t think she would just let you go. So you can’t leave. Not yet.”

“I…” She rubbed her brows, scrunching her eyes tight. “And you know this for a fact?”

Anton tried the same explanation as with Othniel, removing her glove to show his Dragonoid hand. They were less impressed than he was even with his visual aids.

Well, Othniel didn’t really believe me. Said what he had to.

“When do you think,” The oldest male began. “When do you knowyou’ll have an answer?”

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

“Know? I can’t. Nithroel is far, far stronger than anything we could possibly muster. If she discovered you, she could crush us and the Dwarves barely lifting a finger, and drag you back to her.”

The youngest man cast his head down slightly. “If it were to get us out of this cavern…”

Anton felt his heartbeat quicken, Cetina readied to draw her weapons and Rasha shifted in readiness to lunge forward, with her surprising speed and mass she could easily crush them with a single strike. Their eyes fell upon the soldiers, silently watching on without moving in the slightest.

“Please!” Bilaal threw up his hands. “Please do not do something that will upset the people whose arms are larger than your entire body!”

The older woman and man cracked a smile and began to chuckle. The others did not laugh but relaxed somewhat. Anton gently waved Cetina and Rasha down, though he fully approved of their proactive actions.

“Perhaps the young boy speaks too freely.” The older woman said. “But we must be free of this wretched cavern.”

Bilaal breathed a little easier, Rasha remained with one leg raised and ready to move at a moment's notice.

"It has been too long, dreaming of the sky… Endless, the stories and tales say."

“Perhaps we should go back a little bit.” Anton said. “I believe that main, how should I put it? The main issue that you have appears to be population. Too many mouths and not enough food. Correct?”

"What's wrong with having lots of children?" The youngest woman asked. "Such beauty in their laughs and smiles."

"Not so much when they're starving to death." Anton said dryly. “I don’t find any joy in seeing a gaunt child’s ribs, unable to pull themselves out of the gutter.”

The woman was undaunted. "We struggle through the pitiful rations we are given for our work."

“There simply isn’t enough food for us all.” The older male continued. “Not enough, while they eat and gorge themselves we are left to starve.”

“How much do you eat?” The middle aged man asked. It took a moment for everyone to realize it was directed at Rasha.

“A fair amount, I suppose.” Rasha nonchalantly shrugged, but she remained focused on the soldiers. “I don’t eat any meat.”

“Not even the fattest Noble is anywhere near your size.”

Anton was not sure what point he was trying to make. He remained calm and waited for him to continue.

"Lots of milk too, I bet."

A flush of anger ran up her neck, and blue turned purple. Anton was only slightly less angry. He would dote on her afterwards. Anton gently tapped her side and she calmed. It was his milk anyway. The wretched Fire Elf would have to satisfy himself with imagination.

“But we simply don’t have enough room, or food.” The man continued, ignoring the reaction he was trying to elicit. “So what choice do we have?”

“You could try and have less children.” Anton said calmly. “Your very limited resources will go further that way. And less children would grow to be weak and feeble."

Anton cleared his throat. It took several deep coughs before it was clear enough to speak. "I saw dozens of children in the streets. And they didn't look like orphans. The rest of the city can exist in a sort of equilibrium, to a degree, but not you. And this isn’t a religious thing, to go forth and procreate. At least I haven't seen anything like that. Because if you do you’re doing the best you can and you’re dying. And to try and survive, the greatest drive in all creatures, will spill over and potentially wipe everyone else out too. All this…I believe that is their greatest concern."

He was receiving nothing but stares now. But he pressed onwards.

“So of course you came into conflict with them. But what wasyour plan after taking out the Royals and Nobility? After killing them and taking all land and resources. Limited resources, I might add. So what comes next? Obviously that plan is gone now, but what was it?”

The older woman smiled. The toothy grin was rather unsettling. “We would have all the space and food we could possibly need-”

“And with the number of children you have?” Anton lent forward. “We're just looping back on ourselves here. That would only last a few generations. And then? Total collapse. Not enough food, and the farms and ranches, such as they are, would be overworked and fall apart. How long before you turn on yourselves for scraps? Then everyone’s dead and we would arrive only to find corpse after corpse. Many questions and certainly no answers."

“And what’s your point?” The youngest woman asked. She tapped the floor, trying to stare him down. Her gaunt face ruined any attempt at intimidation.

“My point is that I don’t think I can trust you to control yourselves. To relent from trying to just force your way through to The Gate, again, as you would have another child. There are ways to be intimate and not get pregnant." Anton motioned to where The Bend should lay. “Even if we provide you with the food you need. Which we can. How many died on those slopes? And I don’t want to even imagine how bad it would have been if we hadn’t intervened. Why won’t you just try again? This time with those soldiers behind you to break through.”

“We need to work together.” Cetina spoke coolly, deliberately choosing her words. “So what can you offer us as assurances that you won't try again? Especially as we continue to deliver food and medical aid.”

The six huddled together. Their spindly arms struggled to hold their weight as they crawled closer.

“I think it’s usually Verona that behaves crudely.” Cetina whispered. “But I suppose that’s your job today.”

“Always good to have a couple of voices in a negotiation." Anton whispered back.

But I have been feeling a little out of sorts. Definitely this transformation nonsense.

"You guarantee that we will be free?" The middle aged woman asked as they returned to their seats. "That we can live free on the surface, and that we won't be beholden to the Royals and Nobility?"

"Yes." Anton gave a slow nod. "As free as any man or woman can be."

"But not when?"

"No. I ask for some time and patience on your side, but it can be done."

Something he said shifted the Rebel's attitude and not for the better.

"So, what do you-"

“No.”

Anton blinked. “W-What? What do you mean, No?”

“Our answer is No.” The eldest woman sighed. "We have been duped and abused by the Royals for generations. Always promised change and help that never comes. For generations we have watched and waited, waited for things to get better. My grandfather waited for things to get better, hanging onto their promises until he hanged himself. No. We have learned from them, we will not wait for things to be handed to us.” She swung her hand out in a dramatic fashion. “Not when we can know freedom from them is finally possible."

“You can't be serious.” Tension began to build in Anton's head, compounded by Cetina and Rasha's increased readiness.

“You cannot be serious to think that the Royals are anything other than duplicitous, arrogant fools. I don’t know what they gave you to give lip service to their little story, from what we’ve heard it’s probably a horde of young women." The older woman almost scoffed, throwing Bilaal a glance. "They are all fools. Some try their best to mitigate the damage, but the majority are not worth the air they breathe."

“As are you for believing them." The youngest male said, his eyes still cast down onto the wooden floor. “If it’s women you want…”

How much skinny, bony flesh do you think I want?

“I have spoken with the Goddess that wants you, that annihilated an entire country out of envy and spite.” Anton felt his brows furrow. "Or did you forget what I just said?"

The young male looked up, meeting Anton's eyes. "You don't have a single way to prove that you did, or that this Nithroel even exists." He folded his arms. "We will take our chances, and we willmake our way to the surface."

This is insane... Or is it? Would I believe that I had to remain in this cavern?

“Or perhaps this Nithroel isn’t so bad.” He waved a dismissive hand towards Bilaal. "Leave the cavern and Kelis for them. Let them have it. They can see just how easy it is to keep Kelis functioning without their slaves. We will walk on the surface once again. And when we are there, we will meet you and your people as equals.”

Is it that bad they would willingly… Well, what has Nithroel actually done to hurt them? Take them to the surface and potentially make them near immortal Wood Elves? Sounds like I'm threatening them with their wildest fantasy.

Bilaal shuffled uncomfortably. He too did not like where this meeting was rapidly heading. "There must be something that we do to keep you from trying to storm The Gate again." He pointed at Anton. "They aren't going to let you through. Nor any of us, so don’t think there’s some sort of special treatment going on here. And there's a lot more of them than there are of us."

“Not to mention that we can just shut The Gate and pretend that none of this ever happened. Anton shifted so he could prepare to stand up. "We can focus our attention back on the surface and come back here in a couple of years, if we feel like it."

Cetina shot him a worried glance. He did his best to convey that it was just a threat, one that he fully intended upon acting if they tried to break through.

“So I would ask for caution, especially with the fate of your species on the line.”

The older woman gently shook her head, throwing Bilaal a sad look. "Bilaal, thank you for doing what you could over these many cycles. I'm certain that if more had been like you there would have never been an issue."

Whelp. This has completely fallen apart. Is there anything to salvage? Was there ever any chance?

"If there is no talk of letting us out, then we are done here."

All six began to rise up. Bilaal sputtered, unable to mentally recover from the Rebels' rebuke. Anton simply watched them in silence. While he was disheartened they simply wouldn't listen they had plans to deal with them. He hoped nonviolently but knew that was unlikely.

"Y-You can't just leave." Rasha leant forward, resting her weight onto one arm. The Rebels watched with some trepidation. "They will kill you if you try to go up that slope again."

The middle aged man scoffed as he rose to his feet. His silk slippers were of high quality.

"Then make sure that monstrous killer, that flesh monger, there orders them to let us pass."

Anton was not surprised it was directed at him.

"Those Dwarves and Beast-kin soldiers listen to him, not the Royals. So it'll be on his hands if he wants to slaughter innocent people. Like a butcher."

"He's not like that." Rasha's voice began to turn harsh and deep. "He's not a butcher. He’s not. So... Please take that back."

"After what happened on the slopes?" He scoffed again. "I don't think I will. No, we will not be stopped by some savage butcher of women and children-"

Rasha leapt to her feet, her bright orange horn grating against the roof, showering her in shards of wood. The young and middle aged man and woman stood dumbstruck, jaws open as Rasha’s metal gauntlets creaked and groaned under her tight grip. The Rebel soldiers did not draw their weapons, waiting for the order to strike.

"Give the word." Longinious whispered, the light within the central sphere focused on the Fire Elf.

“Don’t…” Her breath was hot and heavy. “Don’t you ever, ever fucking dare… Say that again.”

“I-”

Rasha stomped her foot. Anton felt himself jolt upward. He quickly got to his feet, Rasha shrugged off his attempt to calm her.

“I…” Rasha took a deep breath. “I know that I’m not that smart. And that I can get angry very easily. And what you just said… But I know that you should listen to people. Especially the people that are trying to help you. Even if they have to get forceful. And that means not saying they kill women and children just because they can.”

Anton motioned for Bilaal to stand. "While I hoped that you would see reason in working with us, trying to upset me or my companions is not a good move.”

Rasha continued to breathe hot and heavy.

Cetina fights like ice, Rasha like a roaring inferno.

“Regardless of your desires and assumptions made in fantasy, you will not be allowed to pass. And Nithroel is far from nice and amenable. So don't expect anything more than a Faustian bargain at best.” Anton nodded towards the exit. “We will take our leave now. Perhaps there will be more room for discussion later.”

Bilaal raised his hands. “Let us talk tomorrow, when we have all had time to think about what has been said. All of us.”

The Rebels watched in silence as they retreated. Rasha remained at the rear, watching and almost snarling. It would be some time before she properly calmed from this state. It was even luckier that she hadn’t taken the first swing.

Outside the Atros and Royal soldiers remained in rough formations, the Royals sizing themselves up against the Rebels, Atros soldiers couldn’t care about their rivalries and focused on the young children hiding amongst the rooftops. A growing number of adults were joining them.

“At least they didn’t try and kill us.” Bilaal nervously chuckled.

“No. But that would have made things easier.” Anton held Rasha’s hand. Her head snapped towards him, she gave a quick nod but said nothing. “Okay. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“We’re not going to kill them?” Longinious asked. “Surely throwing them in a state of confusion is ideal. They’ll be internal power plays rather than another escape attempt.”

“Probably. But the city can’t survive another firestorm. Especially the smoke. Best if lock them down-"

Anton staggered forward. A terrible ringing screamed in his temple and blurred his vision. Cetina grabbed him and shielded him with her body, smothering his sight with her gaudy yellow and blue armor. Shouts echoed out as something wet ran down his temple, reeking of iron.

"What the hell just hit me?"

"A stone from a sling." Longinious shone bright and returned to her Mobile Form. Anton's clearing vision was hindered as she put herself on the opposite side to Cetina. "A lucky hit. An incredibly disgraceful attack."

Jeers erupted from the rooftops. The thin Rebel Fire Elves were behaving like rabid monkeys, waving red silk slings over their heads, some empty but many with a very large stone, hooting and howling for them all to leave. And quickly. The Royal soldiers huddled together, those from Atros moved to shield Anton while the Rebels remained indifferent. Some were even smiling.

Perhaps the Royals were right, a bunch of savages.

"What are you doing?!" Rasha yelled. "We haven't attacked you."

Anton wiped the blood from his face. The stone, with a small smear of blood, lay at his feet.

Someone yelled something at Rasha, followed by a rude gesture. She was angry for a brief moment but it quickly subsided.

Anton tapped Longinious's back and motioned for her to move slightly to one side.

"Anyone that tries to attack us as we leave will be killed!" Anton shouted. He felt Cetina's arm slip under his for support. "It doesn't matter how young or old-"

Another rock was thrown, this one he saw. Rasha deflected it with her arm. She cursed and rubbed the spot. Anton raised his hand. Normal magic was difficult and inefficient to use in the Cavern, but not impossible.

Fire and Lightning will definitely start an inferno. But that's not all I have anymore.

Ancient Magic quickly formed into the Essence Bomb, black lightning barely constrained around the central sliver of Formed Essence. Some rooftop Rebels retreated to hide, those that weren't stupid, others unconcerned with their first ever display of magic. The few days of magical training had paid dividends and now it was much easier to control. With a flick of his hands the Essence Bomb soared towards the Rebel Fire Elf. He tried to dodge but was too slow. Arcing Black Lightning consumed his chest, the parts that were licked erupted in thousands of tiny white cubes as his now separated limbs tumbled away.

There was silence as a leg rolled from the roof, landing with a deep thud.

Then there was panic. The rooftop Rebels panicked and fled, those on the ground raced to guard the building containing their leaders.

"Let's go!" Anton waved his hand above his head. “You too, Bilaal. Don’t let your men get left behind.”

Bilaal simply nodded and ordered the Royal soldiers to join Atros’s. Before they had organized another stone was slung at them. This time there was no cheering or hollering. The Fire Elf held himself together only thanks to the presence of those surrounding him. That faded when an Essence Bomb struck his shoulder, along with most of him. Their huddled group quickly retreated; Anton threw only another five before the message was finally hammered into them. To let them go. After that they hid behind the silk draped remains of their buildings, anyone brave enough to even start spinning their sling were ruthlessly pulled down and smothered with terrified limbs. Scorn-filled faces filled the narrow, overcrowded streets, but none now dared attack. Two Essence Bombs floating over his head certainly helped.

Bilaal shifted through the huddle mass of soldiers to Anton's side as they continued to push forward.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think they would try and drive us out so violently. They have done it in the past," He smiled bitterly. "Never to a diplomat."

"They've stopped now, and that's all that matters."

"Yes..." Bilaal looked at the Royal soldiers. They were some distance away, blocked by Atros soldiers and Longinious, who circled around them with her attention firmly placed on the still crowded rooftops. "This is the first time I've been completely alone for some time, away from my fellow aides and Royal Soldiers."

Anton threw him a curious look, though he already had an inkling as to what he was about to say.

"I believe that my handwriting and prose hasn't failed me even in my old age."

Ah.

"Bilaal, a stray rock must have hit you in the leg." Anton said louder than necessary. "We'd better take you to our outpost at The Bend, where we can get you proper attention. It would be terrible for Atros if you were hurt when we forced you to guide us. Please."

"My thanks." Bilaal began to limp. None of the Royal Soldiers were watching, hopefully on vaguely listening. "I look forward to having my other aches and woes treated as well."

This will certainly be interesting.

—[]---

“And what was I supposed to do?” Bilaal nearly spat through his harsh whispers. “Give… The Beast-kin lady the message myself? Kal was her name, yes?”

Anton tried to calm the now fretting Bilaal with a gentle wave but it was of little use. The old Fire Elf’s hair was very intense, like the startled child when they first opened the gate.

“I’m surrounded by assistants, aides and other bureaucrats at the best of times. What was I supposed to do?”

Anton placed a hand on Bilaal’s shoulder and held it firm. After a few deep breaths his hair returned to normal.

“I don’t know how well your race hears things, but let’s not find out.”

There was no possibility that a Fire Elf could hear them. He was the only one of his kind for hundreds of meters. Bilaal had not spoken until they had been brought to the old Fire Elf fort, far beyond the new Dwarven wooden barricade at the entrance to The Bend. Currently they sat on the tallest spire, a very short one even before it fell into disrepair, with a good view of the surrounding cavern given the dilapidated state. Rasha stood behind him, while Cetina by his side. Longinious remained near the staircase, hovering silently and patiently.

“Okay.” Bilaal shakily nodded. “Okay. May I please sit? I feel I must.”

Anton motioned for him to take the rickety wooden chair. Bilaal performed the little ritual he had shown upon their first meeting.

“Thank you.”

Anton hesitated to take one for himself. Rasha gestured to Cetina, then to herself. Cetina understood and returned with one of their empty food crates, more than strong enough to handle his weight.

“So…” Anton sat. “Why do you think that you’re better than the Royals or the Southern Quarter Rebels?”

Bilaal scoffed, quickly remembering his position, in both senses. “You’ve seen both. Do you think either are any good?”

“The Nobles… I’m still in debate. While they started this mess with the Rebels they're also trying to keep your race alive. In their own way. And certainly not above petty rivalries and enrichment. But the Southern Quarter Rebels are clearly arrogant and insular.” Anton sighed. “So not quite well on that front.”

And what do we gain from any of this? Could still seal this cavern right up.

“I did not lie to you.” Bilaal cracked a smile, pointing a finger at Anton, slowly bouncing it up and down. “They are quite arrogant and stupid.”

“Be that as it may,” Anton crossed his legs. He mentally winced at the tiny creak emanating from beneath him. “Why would you, and your erstwhile allies, be any better?”

“We already run everything.” Bilaal took a deep breath. “Without interference and disruption from the Nobles and the Southern Quarter Rebels would mean everyone could get enough food, with your help of course. Half my time is spent making sure they don’t kill each other.”

Anton lent forward. “Give me your hand.”

“What?”

Bilaal grew nervous as Rasha stepped just behind him. He only grew more worried when he saw Rasha’s hand nearing her dagger, which was a sword for everyone else.

“Magic does work in this cavern,” Anton took Bilaal’s hand after Rasha loudly cleared her throat. “Just extremely inefficiently.”

“And what are you doing?”

Anton did not respond and chanted a Truth Prayer. Bilaal was quite distressed to be forced to reveal somewhat personal information, but he did not lie about being the person that ordered a note delivered to Kal. He even gave the name of the child that passed the note, though Anton, and Longinious, did not know or care who that was.

“Can every Mage do that?” Bilaal gingerly rubbed his hand, looking for something in the weathered creases.

“Very few. And that took a considerable chunk of my mana. But at least we now know that you aren’t lying.” Anton smiled, leaning back slightly. “Saves a lot of messing around, doesn’t it? No need to try and talk past one another and eek out hidden meaning in words.”

“That would make my job rather unnecessary.”

“But you are willing to go this far.” Anton looked back at Cetina. “What do you think?”

Cetina looked down, tapping her foot before responding. “The Rebels are very bad for us. The Nobles will definitely be a serious issue once they return to the surface. Constant vying for power and influence… I think we should consider it.”

Rasha nodded. “They’re not going to be anything but a pain for us. They don’t like me, I know their looks.”

Probably think you eat more than half their city.

“We will follow your directive, Anton.” Longinious remained near the stairs. “But I believe that Bilaal has shown considerable bravery by talking to us so quickly, in addition to considerable cooperation.”

Anton gave a nod. “We’ll help you.”

“I…” Bilaal blinked and cleared his throat. “Thank you. What… Do you have in mind?”

“The arrest of every Noble and every leader of The Southern Quarter Rebels. One massive sweep, then have the usual administration take over, continue their work actually, until things calm down and everyone forgets what it was like before.”

“And those you arrest? You can’t take them out of this cavern.”

Anton glanced at Rasha. He remembered her breaking the back of a Mist Walker elder that tried to attack him with a single stomp. Despite being the leaders of an entire nation they were held captive then casually disposed of, albeit by Verona rather than Rasha. No one spoke of it. But people knew they entered alive, and came out dead.

“They will be dealt with in a permanent manner.” Anton lent forward. “Do you understand?”

Bilaal hardened his face. “I understand what you are saying.”

“Good. How long will you need?”

“What-”

“Your soldiers.” Cetina frowned. “How many would be willing to follow you? Or are you saying that it’s just you and a few of your fellow administrators?”

“There are a few.” Bilaal did not sound entirely confident. “But it is extremely risky to ask even a single person to join. So I was hoping ourinvolvement would remain to a minimum.”

“And these few?”

“Three or four days.” Bilaal sighed. “They’re spread out, I’ll need time to get them into the right positions. Paperwork and bribes aren’t instantaneous.”

“Whatever you need to get things through, you’ll have it.”

“I… Thank you.” Bilaal smiled. “I'm sure that we will become great friends in the future. Even more so when we learn of a way to be free of this cavern."

"Rasha? Could you please escort Bilaal to the fortress entrance and see that he is given all the food he may wish to carry? We don't want anyone to think he's up to anything nefarious."

"You got it." Rasha stepped back, placing a hand on the back of Bilaal’s chair.

The Fire Elf did not need to be told the conversation was over. He composed himself well, gave everyone a curt nod before leaving with Rasha in tow.

"Is Verona going to deal with them?" Cetina asked dryly, gently holding his shoulder. "I'm not suggesting that you couldn't."

"Just something quick and painless will do fine. So long as there aren't any children involved."

"Only if they're too young to remember losing their parents." Longinious moved closer to the table, still to Anton's side. "If not they'll resurface as a vengeful blade ten or twenty years from now. Once we've all forgotten."

"Except you, of course." Anton received a faint smile. He rubbed his face hard. "What a mess. But this is for our future. Cetina? How readily will our soldiers go along with this?"

"Restoring order? Not a problem. Arresting? Some complaints. Killing the prisoners? They'll talk, especially if they have to drink."

Cetina ran a finger over her sword like the top of a bottle of alcohol.

"Expansion of your personal guard is a priority." Longinious said. "Eider is performing well in that regard but there could be more. Perhaps even some of the Frindal Feral Beast-kin could be convinced. They have no allegiance or concern of the Fire Elves, and they would be more than willing to support someone that provides food and shelter. If they are in a similar situation to the Seocurian Beast-kin...”

"Using different ethnicities to brutally police other groups has been done before." Anton clicked his tongue. "We'll do that. I don't want Verona to have to clean up my mess again."

Anton walked to the crack that served as a window. Bilaal passed through the rickety gate, said something to Rasha to which she responded with a wave, and hurried back to their cavern.

"Is this what you were talking about, Longinious?"

"A worthwhile ally is a tremendous thing." Longinious smiled, one set of hands clasped before her with the upper set touching her medallion. "And Bilaal’s bureaucratic, rather than hereditary, system is far more similar to ours. For future cooperation and even complete integration. Once we discover a way to free them from Nithroel's envious gaze."

Anton tapped the bottom of the window frame, watching Bilaal near the Dwarven barricade. "If it's even remotely as successful as The Shadow Isles then everything should go fine. Not much to do now but wait else but to wait and see.”