Harlan was in his room drawing up plans for his new home when he was called back to the infirmary.

He rushed through the halls, terrifying one poor maid who he skipped mere inches from before skipping again.

He felt… off; time caught back up to him as Harlan burst through the doors.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

Safira was awake and aware, but she was barely moving.

“You should rest.”

“I’ve had two entire hours. I don’t know how much more rest my mind can take.”

“No fighting or training, just stay here.”

“I’ve no interest in those things, but I cannot remain still.”

“You need a hobby.”

“I visit fine restaurants on my days off.”

“Oh, well that is interesting. Do you have any-”

“I need you to remove my armor, the crystals damaged it and I cannot turn it to liquid.”

“Couldn’t you have one of the smiths do it?”

She answered under her breath, even Harlan couldn’t hear her.

“What?”

“I want you to do it instead of them.”

“If I asked for an explanation, would you tell me to leave and call someone else?”

“I would.”

“Alright then, I’ll get that armor off of you.”

The royal guards golem armor, much like Harlan’s, wasn’t actually intended to be removed without magic.

Now, Harlan did know the spell to make the armor shift, but the issue was not just the crystals being damaged, it was also that the shrapnel from the bomb had left its anti-magic effect in the armor itself.

So, he took another approach, and started cutting it off of her with a cutter spell that used void.

Using a forgemasters finger, what was effectively a plasma cutter, was another option, but one not ideal when dealing with such a tight fitting armor.

He cut around the front of her chest first, since she seemed to be having some difficulty breathing.

“I hope I can trust your discretion?”

She had white cloth wrapped around her breasts to flatten them.

“If you would like, I could use fleshsculpting, 10 minutes and you’d be not so endowed.”

“I will find someone else to finish this if you speak again.”

Harlan just nodded his head and kept on cutting in silence.

All in all, because he was being very very careful so as to not harm her, it took eight minutes to cut the armor.

She sat up and removed herself from the armor like a molting spider, half of the shell remained on the table and Harlan helped her move to one of the other beds.

Her face was tanned, but anything below the next was very pale.

Safira was covered in scars, being one of those people who considered each of them a lesson that should be remembered every time one looked in a mirror.

She wore little under the armor itself, just a pair of simple white underpants that wouldn’t bunch up under it and kept the metal from touching her sensitive areas, and the bindings on her chest.

“Would you like me to get you something to wear while I take this to the royal smiths?”

“I will be fine.”

“Being in a shell like this, it isn’t bad, you get used to it, but it doesn’t replicate fine fabrics.

I just thought that it might help you relax.”

She tapped on the bed beneath her.

“No, it would just be a waste of time.”

“I’ll take this to the smiths, just take a nap, I’m sure not being in that tight thing will make you more comfortable.”

She did feel a little tired still.

“Perhaps.”

Harlan closed the curtains and put the scraps of her armor inside of the half-shell and carried it through the halls.

When the smiths saw it they had mourning faces.

The oldest one kneeled over it, touching the hands of it like it was a dead loved one and beginning to cry.

One of the younger smiths, which was relative, as the man still looked to be in his 40s, rushed Harlan out of the room before the master smith started yelling at him.

When Safira awoke hours later, she found a proper blanket, not one of the white sheets the infirmary rooms used on the beds.

She pulled it up over her head and thought about going back to sleep.

It was softer than the one she used at night, Harlan brought it from one of the guest rooms and hid it in a spatial box to avoid questions of their commander asking for something such as this.

“Like a tumor…”

He hadn’t fought in a long while, or at least it felt that way.

The planes got their first use, and Harlan’s sleep bombs functioned exactly as they should, and they even recovered a noble in full armor with blood gems all intact.

But, whenever he asked about going out on the battlefield himself, Rosewell just told him she hadn’t found the right place for him yet.

He knew something had been wrong ever since she heard that voice.

Harlan was pulled from his thoughts by Adina.

“Make this window a little bigger, I think that this room is a little dim.”

“Sure.”

The entire place was made of stone and had been constructed by golems in the last week.

He and Adina were walking around checking for any modifications they could make to it.

“And I don’t like this shelf on the wall. When she starts walking and climbing she’ll probably jump to grab it then slip off.”

Harlan made the modifications.

“Better?”

“No, why not-”

Harlan put his arm around her and pulled Adina closer.

Adina had been feeling odd, she didn’t have any more suggestions to make on the house.

Harlan was ready to gate them both back to the palace when he stopped and turned around.

“You hate it, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“I want us to have a place that we can both enjoy.”

“I just don’t want to lose our home again.”

“Why not a castle then?”

“That would be interesting.”

“Then a castle we will have. Every brick will be enchanted, I won’t let us lose our home again.

I guess I’ll need to draw up new blueprints, start having stone moved in from elsewhere.”

“Why not build from here? This mock home is all stone.”

“If I want to build something that will really last, just hardened dirt won’t be enough.

Naturally formed rock in the right environments will have better defenses.

I’ll contact the Greatwall family, figure out what the hardest magical stone is, what the cost will be.”

“It seems like a shame, you had those golems put up this whole thing, but it was useless.”

“Not at all, because it let us have this conversation. You should meet Tiamat while we’re here.”

Adina was mesmerized by the waves and the giant creature which lazily slithered along the surface towards them.

“Little Shadow, I have done nothing since we last met but eat and swim. No threats have come to your lands.”

“Adina, this is Tiamat. Tiamat, this is Adina, and my daughter Viviane.”

“Great fortunes to the firstborn of the shadows.”

“Thank you, Tiamat.”

After ten seconds of silence, Tiamat swam back out to sea while Harlan and Adina went back to the palace.

Adina went to put Viviane down for a nap, and Harlan went to see Balor, who he was told could be found in the library.

When Harlan entered the room Balor quickly hid the book he had been reading.

“Harlan.”

“Does that have something to do with the reason I’m not involved in whatever is happening and why I haven’t been deployed in weeks?”

“Queen Yggdra simply believes it is best for you to remain with your wife and daughter.”

“Or she wants me to be constantly vigilant about who might have a different face and soul.”

“Perhaps.”

“So, what can you tell me?”

“Nothing. In fact, if that is what you are here for, I think you should leave.”

“Fine, alright, but remember that I’ll help with whatever you need.”

Harlan stepped outside but remained by the door, waiting for Balor to put the book back.

He tracked his mind to find out where the shelf was and he had long since stopped seeing people as murky outlines, so he could tell exactly where Balor put it.

When Balor was gone, Harlan went back in.

The book was the one Sepul had written on ghosts and other assorted spirits, but he found no hints on what kind of spirit Balor was looking for.

Adina was with the rest of his family, he claimed he wanted to put some finishing touches on the castle blueprint.

It had been a long three weeks with him locked out of everything.

No fights, just time with Adina and his pencils and paper, and sometimes Lilly or Dagda would request his help with something, but he only ever got pieces, he was never asked to help with whatever those parts went to.

Harlan asked for a meal to be brought to him, and when the maid entered the room, Harlan closed the door behind her.

He knew her from around Balor’s home, she was one of his workers.

“Who is Balor looking for?”

She dropped the demure facade.

“I don’t ask questions, I just follow my orders, in this case, to protect my targets.”

“Is that what those blades are for?”

She lifted her skirt, and strapped to each leg were daggers.

“Have you been looking at me? My, what is a woman to do with such a perverted-”

“I’m not in the mood for games. If you don’t know anything then you can leave. And for the record, you don’t move like a maid, you move like a killer, shifty eyes and fast hands.”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“I’ve never been criticized for such a thing, are you certain you aren’t just assuming based on what you already know of me?”

“Everyone else has probably been distracted by your breasts, fix that top button while you are serving me.”

“Oh? But isn’t it more fun if-”

“I wasn’t asking. You are dismissed.”

The assassin turned covert guard was a little offended by Harlan shutting her down completely.

Another week passed.

There were… rumors, going around.

King Fomoria, that name was on too many lips, because Harlan said it and was overheard, but the ones who overheard it didn’t know who that would be other than this Harlan.

Him building his own castle, something normally reserved for dukes and royalty only made things more confusing.

Harlan was encouraged to personally oversee the construction of his new home, but he knew that Rosewell just wanted him out of the way.

But, he also knew that it would be pointless, he didn’t have the materials he needed because he didn’t want to bring in Greatwall workers so they kept saying they’d get back to him.

It was easier to do this back when people used letters, but when Harlan could use gate to go to them directly and then call every day for the last half a week, it was clear they were offended by his refusal.

Yet still he decided to get out of the palace, so he went to Amber, who a few days ago, decided to resume her travels with Sam and Liat since they called her for help.

They were in a small village somewhere deep in the frontier.

“Let’s hope you don’t end up doing anything too… Harlan-like, while we are here.”

“Amber, my dear sister, when have I ever worsened a situation?”

She had a few ideas in mind, but bringing up Haldren would be far too dark for the light hearted joking between them.

“Nothing comes to mind.”

“Sam, how are you? Liat, same question.”

“We’ve been better, in fact, we probably would be in the fuck up if Amber hadn’t decided to take a vacation for the last two months.”

“We have been well, Samantha and I have been on missions on our own, and we appreciate that she decided to come back, and that you came along as well. How are Adina and… Vivi was it?”

“They're fine. Vivi was walking.”

“My, and at such a young age. Perhaps she’ll be a strong warrior like her father.”

It was written clearly on Harlan’s face that he disapproved.

“If she ever has to pick up a blade and kill another, I feel I will have failed her.”

The server in the small inn brought each of them a cup of hot tea, which Harlan downed in an instant.

Sam tried the same and burned her tongue.

“FUCK.”

The server jumped back.

“Don’t worry about her, thank you for the drink.”

The man just nodded and walked away.

“How can you drink that stuff?”

“I never enhanced you, did I? I thought I had.”

“No, I’m still just a normal ass person.”

“Really? Not much of an ass on you though.”

Liat punched him in the shoulder.

“Sam is quite fine enough as she is.”

She and Sam shared a look with one another.

“Liat, refresh me. Ogres are moving Mammoths through, they say that this land is sacred, but the village already has farms. Is that it?”

“Yes. The village hired us to handle this, and I’m hoping that we can avoid anyone getting hurt.”

“Why is the land sacred?”

“They leave the old Mammoths here to die, there is a whole graveyard out in the woods.”

“Have the farms actually encroached on the graveyard?”

“No, but next planting they will be expanding, so they want us to get the Ogres to agree to let them now instead of this turning into a feud between them.”

“Right, and the kingdom’s policy is to avoid pissing off Ogres?”

“If we can help it, yes. Kill one tribe, and the whole clan will be angry, meaning no trade with them until it gets settled by the kingdom, who the Ogres consider as being one single clan.”

“Got it. One of my shadows is reading a book on Ogres, are there any marks that could tell me which of the clans these ones are from?”

“Red dot with a red square drawn around it on their forehead and each shoulder. The chief was wearing a Mammoth trunk over each shoulder pointed down in the front, and they are green skinned, not orange.”

Harlan closed his eyes and went quiet for a few minutes.

“I’ll meet you at the camp, I think my shadow just found something.”

The chief was 12 feet tall and had a club at his side that was carved from a tree with a large knot at the end and pieces of sharp stones were stabbed in along the length.

The deep green or orange skin of an Ogre was saggy and leathery not unlike the Mammoths they so loved.

Their tall heads ended in soft points where a single long tuft of hair would grow in a white color like the plumage of a bird and was often dyed, but in this case, was left in its original color.

Their features were rough and inhuman, small barely protruding tusks on front of their mouth like buck teeth, one set going upward, and one downward.

Despite their appearance, they were a people who didn’t enjoy violence as a general rule, but if inclined either for defense or by being hired on as mercenaries, they were ferocious fighters.

The biggest issues of the Ogres were their nomadic nature and lack of education.

They would move in packs that rarely got beyond three hundred, splitting off but maintaining a clan identity when they grew too large.

One could find them on nearly every corner of the continent inside of the veil, though they generally avoided anywhere with too many towns and cities.

And though they would trim the heavy fur from the beasts which made up much of their clothing and ropes, they would rarely be seen near The Great Desert or the jungles of the Confederacy due to the weather disagreeing with them.

Amber sat with her legs crossed, Sam and Liat were at her sides.

“Farm not go far, Mammoths die here.”

“I know that you don’t want the farms to go into the graveyard, but we are willing to move the bones to-”

“MAMMOTH CHOOSE WHERE DIE.”

The booming voice hurt Sam’s ears and she felt hot spit on her face.

Amber and Liat remained unfazed.

“I believe it would be fair if the farms extended outward away from the village without going into the graveyard, but we also ask that the Mammoths not trample the fields.”

“Mammoth holy, does what Mammoth want.”

“We are aware, we don’t want to get rid of the graveyard, we only hope that we can coexist.”

“Human not live lands, Ogre live lands, hundred years, Ogre lands.”

“Humans will continue to expand our lands, and-”

The Ogre grabbed its club and stood, Sam and Liat drew their swords.

“SIT DOWN.”

The women and the Ogre both sat back down.

“I don’t want this to turn into a fight. If we leave, then the village will call in the army, and they will kill your people, and your Mammoths will have nowhere to go. Either we find a peaceful solution or-”

There was a loud crashing sound outside followed by the loud thumping of a fist on naked flesh.

“VOY, VOY, VOY.”

“Harlan?”

Everyone came out to find Harlan wearing only a loincloth and an upside down triangle drawn on his chest with equal lines that started at his nipples; he pounded on his chest.

“VOY, VOY, VOY.”

The chief started pounding on his chest as well.

Amber rushed over to her brother.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Voy.”

“The fuck does voy mean?”

“It is a call to ritual combat for settling disputes between the blood tear tribes, which these ones are part of.”

“I said I wanted to handle this peacefully, and I think I was about to before you showed up.”

“I also talked with the village chief, I’ve got a plan, don’t worry. VOY.”

“NOT PART OF TRIBE. NOT GET VOY.”

“VOY FOR ALL, VOY MAKE SAME.”

The chief went to find the elders for consultation, who agreed that voy for all.

Harlan and the chief stood on either end of a circle drawn with the tusks.

Sam was next to Amber.

“The fuck is Harlan doing?”

Amber rubbed her temples.

“He’s going to fight in a ritual with the chief according to the rules of the blood tear clan.”

“Is that good?”

Amber just made an unsure face.

The chief had another line drawn in the middle and then a long rope was brought out.

The Ogre and Harlan grabbed the rope and started pulling.

The Ogres cheered from the sidelines, pushing into one another, Liat and Amber protected Sam from being crushed by flying up.

They all watched from the air, Harlan’s muscles tensed and bulged, the chief’s did the same.

With a final great yank the chief was pulled past the line in the middle.

He got up and spit the dust out of his mouth.

“Human best Cru, new game.”

Harlan cleaned up the lines of the ring and both of them got on the feet and knuckles while they faced one another.

“Chief have first hit.”

“Human die if hit.”

“Human strong.”

The chief nodded his head, and while supporting himself on one hand he slapped as hard as he could, sending Harlan into a spiral; the chief’s hand stung.

He shook off the blow and got back into position, giving the Ogre a slap that left the tribe in shock as their chief’s green skin turned black and blue.

They considered it the stupidest display they had ever seen from Harlan as he and the chief spent 15 minutes slapping one another until the chief couldn’t remain on one hand anymore.

The Ogres rushed into the circle with tears in their eyes; their wailing forced Amber to put a veil over the three of them.

Harlan pushed through the crowd and lifted the chief.

The crowd went silent.

“PEACE.”

They went from mourning to cheering so loudly that the group of women had to put up a second, stronger veil.

Harlan healed the chief, who had Harlan stand on his hands and lifted him to eye level.

“What Human want?”

“Mammoth make good land, grow many foods.”

“But Mammoths…”

It hurt Harlan to see the big eyes of the Ogre droop.

“The Mammoths cycle.”

“Mammoth great shepherds of life, Ogre herd bodies of Mammoths, always moving around, part of cycle.”

“Humans cycle crops, Ogres cycle Mammoths.

Chief of village honor Mammoths, clean skull, paint with blood tear. Chief always have place for camp, humans trade food with Ogre”

“Mammoths shepherd food… part of cycle?”

The chief found himself deeply confused.

To an Ogre, the cycle required constant movement, that they would aid the bound people didn’t make sense, but Harlan’s argument did make sense to him.

The dead Mammoths would already die to grow the planets, hence the forest filled with skulls.

So the farm didn’t really disrupt the cycle, it just took advantage of it.

“Mammoth die in field, make good food, strong plants, part of cycle. Human trade to Ogre, Ogre give food to Mammoth. Cycle… human teach Ogre cycle, smart human, Cru like human, what name?”

“Little Shadow.”

“Little Shadow, friend to Cru, always ask Cru if want help.”

“Little Shadow be friend to Cru. Little Shadow also want Mammoth.”

The Ogre hugged him and he hugged him back, which was a little awkward due to the size difference.

Harlan rode his mammoth back to the village.

Back in the village, they sat there at the same table at the same inn, and everyone was looking at Harlan like he was a madman, since he still had nothing but a loincloth and the red triangle painted on his chest.

“I guess that it all ended fine. But don’t pull some shit like that again.”

Amber was… well, she didn’t know how exactly she felt about it.

“I make good… I had a good plan, and all of it was based on what I could find in the royal library.”

“Books on monsters aren’t-”

“Ogres aren’t monsters. Sure, they aren’t as smart as humans, but I’d still call them people.

They live, aging and dying as other prime species do, and if they wanted to settle, I’m sure we could teach them how to be smart.”

Sam had downed one mug of ale in the 30 seconds they had been seated and was halfway down her second.

“My dad said their heads are too weird, their brains… they don’t… they’re pointy, makes them stupid.”

The sudden rush of alcohol was hitting her hard, drinking wasn’t something she was actually proficient at.

“That’s dumb.”

“FUCK YOU, DON’T CALL MY FATHER DUMB.”

Liat stopped her from throwing a knife at Harlan.

“Sam, why don’t we take you to your room.”

“I’m hungry…”

“I’ll bring your stew up.”

“I want an extra biscuit.”

“I’ll get you one.”

“I want Harlan’s biscuit.”

“You can have my biscuit.”

“NO. LIAT, TAKE HIS BISCUIT.”

When the food came Harlan had to feign a loss.

Amber and Harlan were just sitting there alone.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go back to the palace.”

Harlan put up a veil.

“Things are odd there now. Rosewell has everyone tracking someone down, but she refuses to let me help and nobody is talking to me. She won’t even let me go out and fight in battles. Meanwhile David and Parnell are doing gods know what with Nemain. They’ve gotten into some fights, but then they just vanished. I hope they’re alright.”

“I don’t think either of us knows what to do when things are quiet.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“Honestly, I’m a bit pissed at you. Don’t waste your time with me, see your wife and daughter.”

“It’s never a waste of time to be with my darling sister. Any interesting stories from out here?”

“We once got the mission to kill a Living Stomach. The valves on those things only go one way and their armor from the outside is stupidly hard. Sam pulled the short straw and had to jump into the mouth with a vial of poison then crawl out the back.”

Harlan laughed uncontrollably.

“Why wouldn’t you just attack its soul?”

“Shit. Don’t tell Sam that we should’ve done that.”

Amber rapped her fingers on the table as she drank her ale.

“Am I pretty?”

“That is a dangerous question to ask your brother.”

“Don’t blow me off, I’m serious.”

“Yes, you are beautiful.”

“Then why the fuck can’t I find a good man?”

“Do you want my empty words or my honesty?”

“You know what I want.”

“Your standards are too high.”

“You don’t even know what my standards are for a husband.”

“Let me guess, handsome, not a shit person, around your age, and a mage.”

“Those aren’t high standards.”

“How many mages have you met that actually fit those?”

“Plenty.”

“And how many of them were either not human, already engaged, or a woman.”

“I’m sure I met a few.”

“I’m not saying to lower your standards, but you won’t find a man like that here in The Frontier. Not because people out here are worse, but because there aren’t that many people out here.

Go to the cities, put yourself out there.”

She downed her third mug of ale, her enhanced body made getting drunk harder, but she didn’t have the liver stolen from a frog like Harlan had.

“I’m jealous of you and Adina, you fucking prick.”

“Does it help that she was sent to me by a Fae god and their plan backfired?”

“No. You and her met on what, the second or third day at the academy? Then you never really needed any other options, because you and her are perfect for each other.”

“Don’t act like it was easy for us. I had to get past her being from Reino and her looking a little like Ava and-”

“Wait, can we actually talk about how weird that is?”

“I’d really rather not.”

“You don’t want to, but-”

A man stepped through the veil and sat at the table.

“Let’s play a game.”