Things moved quickly after the morning’s battle. Alton and the assumed leader of the tribesmen continued attempts at communication to both men’s frustrated amusement. The only thing Alton could determine was that the man referred to himself as Thuklu. Thuklu looked to be in his fifties with the build of an aging warrior. Muscles lined his shrunken frame and scars crossed his arms and chest.

Jonah was yet to wake, but Lews felt he was improving faster than before. Alton may have preferred to wait it out in the cave, but the always present threat of more Edorians forced his hand. When he tried to mime them moving to Thuklu, the older man understood. He called for several of his younger members and sent them off down the trail.

Alton left Amelia in command of moving the injured. Prian was tasked with taking control of the remaining scouts and surveying the former battlefield down below for any signs of the enemy. Miser took control of the infantry and organized a baggage train to move what little supplies they still had and the bodies of their fallen comrades. It only took half an hour before the beleaguered company was ready to move again.

Thuklu stood by, watching them prepare with a look of amusement on his face that Alton could only guess at the meaning of. So far, the tribe had been nothing but generous to the Agorrans. No sign of hostility from either side. It was the first time in his career Alton wished he spent more time learning about the tribes inhabiting the deep mountains.

When they departed the clearing, it was with heavy hearts and minds. The battle at the canyon pass and against the drake had claimed half their original number. Soldiers knew loss, but the pain never lessened. Alton was the last to descend and watched with curiosity as the tribesmen remaining behind began to dissect the corpse of the drake.

The trek down followed the same pass as before. The descent was slowed by the burden of carrying the dead and the general fatigue of Alton’s group. As the ranking officer, it fell to him to fold the survivors in and take command until they reunited with the greater army. Unsurprisingly, there had been no challenges to Amelia’s nor his authority. The soldiers looked at her with a respect that was earned in this line of work, not granted by title. There was a story there that he wanted to hear when she was ready.

They followed the pass halfway down until Alton was surprised as they turned to move through a small clearing between jagged boulders. There were no markings of a trail that he could see as he followed behind. Thuklu drifted back to join him and walked beside him in silence. They continued through the clearing before turning and climbing up a sharp hill that still showed no visible trail.

Thuklu chuckled at Alton looking around and bent low to point out a crushed shrub bush. It was a little more obvious when he lowered to see it from another angle, though not something he would trust himself to follow. It made a little more sense when he noticed members of the tribe dropping back to conceal their passage. Using long branches with leaves tied to them, they drug the branches back and forth across the clearing and obfuscated any signs.

“Thoiri. Walk. Mountain.” Thuklu said from beside him.

Alton just shrugged and continued on after his soldiers. They passed through several more hidden clearings before coming across a deep canyon. The clearing they were in ended at the canyon, but the guides continued on. When Alton reached the edge, he found stairs cut into the side of the ravine leading down to a shelf several hundred feet below.

The tribesmen were taking the injured and corpses from the infantry, more used to navigating the difficult terrain. Alton was again both humbled and paranoid about the help being given so freely. Progress slowed as they worked their way down the steep stairs. Thankfully, there was no snow or ice, just small streams of snowmelt from the morning sun.

The steps ended at the shelf, and the trail flattened out. Alton peered over the edge and whistled as the drop continued for another hundred feet to the canyon floor. Thuklu, beside him, chuckled and motioned Alton closer to the wall. He grinned back and took the older mans advice to stay away from the edge.

A doorway appeared in the ravine's wall and his company passed through it. Dozens of tribesmen were inside the door as it opened to a large entryway. Alton stopped in his tracks at the massive cavern he found himself in. It was lit with softly glowing manalights placed on the ceiling and massive pillars that rose from the floor to the ceiling, forty feet above them. The door closed behind them, leaving a solid wall in place that hid the dwelling inside.

The room was large enough to fit the entire striker quarter of the Third Army camp. Dozens of doorways opened from each side and Alton spotted movement high on the walls, moving on various balconies. Benches and tables littered the room off the main path and Alton saw men, women and children going about their normal routines. The arrival of the group had stirred some excitement, and the tribal people stopped to watch them walk by.

Their group was shepherded through the cavern to the far end that branched into three distinct tunnels. Thuklu stopped the procession with a word and walked up to Alton. He said a few words that left Alton shrugging before acting them out instead. Thuklu called up the healer, who mimicked healing Jonah and pointing down a hall that led out of the cavern. He pointed out the various injured soldiers and motioned for them to go.

Alton was hesitant to separate the group. He reached out to his core and circulated a minimal amount, feeling it thrum with energy. Even trapped inside with an unknown number of tribesmen, Alton would fight to the death for his team. His thoughts ran dark as he considered the odds of betrayal.

The tribesmen present tensed at his usage of mana and a few of the new ones shouted and drew weapons. Thuklu raised his arms high and shouted back. He gave Alton a long look before taking the short sword he wore on his side off and dropping it to the floor. A harsh shout later and the rest followed suit.

“Alton.” Thuklu said while present his hands.

He shared a look with Amelia and gazed over the remainders of his charge. Twenty some soldiers who were tired, injured and grieving. They were in no shape for a fight should he pick one, even inadvertently. Alton turned back towards Thuklu and took a deep breath before releasing his mana and deciding to trust them. He flashed a series of signs despite the attention.

Stolen story; please report.

Unknown. Stay vigilant.

Looking back over his soldier at Amelia, he nodded for her to follow the healer. Next, Thuklu motioned out eating and drinking and pointed down another hallway. Alton nodded and the rest of his company peeled off after the guide under the charge of Miser. Thuklu nodded and motioned for Alton to follow him down a central hallway beyond the entryway.

—-

Alton swallowed his hesitance and followed Thuklu down the well lit passage. The walls were lined with paintings depicting various scenes from the tribe’s history. There were battles against other tribes, creatures Alton had never seen and one foe that Alton knew all too well, Imperial Edorians. Hallways branched off this passage, but Thuklu kept moving forward and Alton followed.

After a veritable maze of hallways, Thuklu led Alton to a room that looked to serve as an official meeting place. There were two sets of long benches set against each wall and a central area ringed by a set of seven chairs. The chairs were made of stone and covered with intricate carvings. The room was lit with brighter manalights that showed off the artwork adorning the walls.

More scenes of history were painted all over the room. Nearly every available surface of the wall was covered. Alton wandered over to the closest one and took in the beautiful art. This scene seems to depict a warrior fighting a great beast made of shadow. The warrior was glowing a familiar soft blue. Alton was reminded that members of the tribe were awakened and able to use mana in a new way.

He heard a throat being cleared behind him and turned to see newcomers standing by Thuklu. One of them looked to be even older than his new ally, while the other was barely an adult. Alton walked over to join the three men, expecting another awkward attempt at communication. He gave them a small wave and tried to look friendly.

“Alton.” Thuklu said with a point.

“Quain, Tunda.” He said and pointed to the other two.

“Alton.” The young one, Quain, started. “We,” he pointed at the three of them, “are glad to meet you. We have much to discuss.”

“You speak Agorran?” Alton asked in surprise.

“We work with traders, village. Learn Agorran, not so different Eludite.” He answered.

Alton considered that for a moment. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that some of the more rural villages would trade with the mountain tribes. Mountain tribes had lived in peace with the valley Agorrans long before the war re-started. Smaller villages cared little for the greater politics.

“Please thank Thuklu for his assistance and supplies. We are in his debt.” Alton said and gave a small bow towards Thuklu. All three men chuckled at that, and Thuklu grinned.

“He understands. The old goat has never been one for words, knows more than he speaks.” Quain replied with a chuckle.

Thuklu flashed him a look of annoyance before breaking out into a grin. He reached forward to clasp Alton’s arm before saying, “I take leave.” He bowed and stepped away and back into the labyrinth of hallways.

“Your people are safe. Food is being served and medicine treated.” The older man, Tunda, said.

“As Thuklu said, my name is Quain. I am studied in the old ways and serve as adviser to Great Council. We are Thoiri tribe.” He swept his arms around to represent the entire cave. “This is Tunda, my fellow learned.”

Tunda stepped forward to clasp Alton’s arm in the same way Thuklu had. Alton accepted and returned the embrace.

“We bring you to council, to discuss your people and our shared hated.” Tunda said.

Alton had to make a couple of assumptions to understand the two men. Thoiri was the name of the tribe that controlled this entire area. No ignorant mountain tribe like the valley Agorrans preferred to pretend. This cave system alone showed an elegance that could not be denied. The hated must be the Imperial Edorians, the foe Alton had spent years fighting.

He nodded to the two, and they directed him to one of the benches. Tunda left through the only other doorway while Quain sat beside him. He studied the young man, around the age of his teammates. Scrawny like Lews with tribal tattoos on his arms and one on his cheek that looked like an eye.

Quain noticed him looking and pointed to it. “Means I see.”

His eyes took on a blue hue, and Alton knew he was using manasight. He activated his own and his breath caught at the room. It was bathed in ambient mana, unlike Alton had ever witnessed. The paintings on the walls were alive with mana, infused somehow into the paintings. Alton breathed out slowly and cycled to pull into his core. It was easier than ever to draw in.

“You see, good.” Quain nodded beside him. “We have much to share each other.”

Alton didn’t respond and let the silence develop. He was transfixed by the paintings running the length of the room. It was beautiful in a way Alton couldn’t fully comprehend. His core thrummed as he took in the scenes surrounding him. What he would give for Jonah’s scholarly mind.

“My friend Jonah, learned man as well. When he wakes…” Alton trailed off as he thought of his friend.

“Maghadul, best healer. You see. No worry for friend.” Quain responded with a smile that put Alton a little more at ease.

“Maghadul…the one from,” he searched for what to say, “cave? With us?” Alton asked.

Quain laughed. “No. Mekhur just train, Maghadul master.” He patted Alton on the leg and started to speak again when the door Tunda went through opened back up.

Tunda returned with an older woman walking next to him. She exuded power, not in the physical sense, but in her self-importance and the jewelry she wore. She studied Alton as they crossed the room, and Alton studied her in turn. The Thoiri women stopped before Alton and spoke a few words too fast for Alton to decipher. Alton stood to greet her.

She spoke again, a long sentence that resembled Agorran, but Alton couldn’t decipher. Quain stood and walked beside her. He turned to face Alton and his cheery grin was gone, replaced with a look of serious business. Alton assumed this woman was on the council he served. She began speaking again and Quain translated.

“Alton of the valley. I am Lotha, I sit on the Great Council of the Thoiri. I welcome you to our home. Your people are hurt and tired. We heal and feed. Tomorrow you meet with Great Council to discuss much. Tonight, you rest and enjoy.” Quain finished speaking.

Alton wasn’t sure how to respond, so he just bowed. Lotha laughed and stepped forward to clasp both of his arms with her own. She stared deeply into his eyes and spoke another string of words. Quain looked uncomfortable as he thought something over.

“Alton. This sound strange but she wishes to see you,” he struggled and looked over a Tunda “power?” The older man posed.

Alton looked back at them both with confusion. She wants to see power? His mana? Questions rolled through his mind. When he circulated in the entryway, it caused a panic. Should he do it again now?

Lotha grinned and nodded at him as if sensing his confusion. He reached down to his core and circulated carefully. She laughed with glee and said a word Alton understood for “more.” He ramped up his circulation as she laughed and pulled back her arms to clap. She turned to hug Tunda, and Alton’s confusion only grew.

Deciding to press his luck, he surged and let his body bask in the power flowing from his core. All three Thoiri were staring at him now, Lotha’s laughter quelled. Alton was too caught up in the rush to notice the change in expression and pulled both of his swords free and infused them with a small amount of mana. Both swords lit up in a soft blue glow, and Alton felt his core sing.

Tears were rimming Lotha’s eyes now, and Alton noticed it with a start. He doused both blades and returned them to their sheaths. Alton stepped back to give them space, unsure if he offended them by getting carried away. Instead, Lotha stepped forward and bowed low. She fired off another sentence.

Alton gave Quain a bewildered look as the young man snapped out of his daze. “She says…the Wolf rides your soul. Hope is born anew.”

Lotha spoke again, and Quain translated. “We have much to discuss tomorrow, Alton. Tonight, rest and accept my son for company. He is good man.” She smiled and stood, patting Quain on the head like a child.