When she returned to her parents’ tent, she discovered her father was drunk. He slurred, he rambled, he spoke in a language nobody could understand.

When he spotted Sheilah, he fixed her with a drunken, baleful eye.

“Siddown. This‘s ‘mportant.” he grumbled.

He started to lean, but Ladria gently propped him upright.

Sheilah sat across from him and briefly considered the wineskin, but seeing how drunk her father already was, she elected not to offer him any.

“I could do it, you know.” He confided with all the deadly seriousness of the catastrophically inebriated, pointing at Sheilah. “I could gather them allll up, and we’d have a great time of it.”

She gave him an uncertain look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“War.” He stated emphatically.

“War?” Sheilah asked, tasting the word. The Redlands hadn’t had a war since they’d driven Stormheim out.

He nodded. “Say the word, Sheilah, and I’ll rally the clans. We’ll march to Stormheim and burn it to the ground. Fuck ‘em.” he made a strange gesture with his hand, all his fingers curled except his middle finger.

Her confusion grew at this deadly proclamation. “Why?” She asked, and Ladria and Mayrim both looked away from her.

“You don’t know?” He asked, puzzled. “Oh, right. That.” He took a long breath and let it out. “I never liked ‘em. Couldn’t stand ‘em. So why not? We got enough warriors. March out there and kill the lot of ‘em.”

“Father, I don’t understand.” She begged. “Why war? Why now?”

He balled up his fists. “Because I don’t have any time left!” He argued. “There’s still so much that I need-” He interrupted himself. “Great Mother Tyrant, get the bucket-” he suddenly swore, and dove for the bucket, where he proceeded to vomit the contents of his stomach.

“Mothers, what’s going on? Why is he-” She tried to ask, but Ladria shook her head.

“I think it’d be best if you asked him after he’s had a good night’s sleep.” she offered in a wry voice. “I think this is probably the third time I’ve seen him drunk like this, and every time, he’s lived to regret it.”

Mayrin let out one of her short, testy sighs. “Your father has been under a lot of pressure lately. He’s been putting off-” Ladria touched her arm, and the two exchanged looks laden with meaning. Mayrin let out another short sigh. “-something he should have done a long time ago.” Her voice was cool, crisp, and neutral, though she stroked Davian’s back fondly as he groaned and vomited.

“His procrastination has led to this.” She finished, as Davian sat up.

Ladria handed him a towel; he wiped his face even as Mayrin handed him a small wooden cup of water.

“So? Davian of the First Blood has asked you a question, Sheilah: Should the Clans of the Redstone go to war with Stormheim for you?”

Sheilah gave them a bewildered look. “This is stupid. This doesn’t make sense at all.” She moved to push herself to her feet, but Ladria waved her down.

“As a Dragon, as a-” She cut herself off and it was obvious she was changing what she was planning on saying, “-as an adult, you’ll have to face the need to make decisions like this. Your father is the most stubborn and levelheaded man I have ever met, and yet even he’s moved to make ... decisions based on passion and emotion.”

Davian moved to say something, but Ladria pushed the towel into his face and held it there. She looked to Sheilah.

“Think carefully, Sheilah: The most powerful man in the Redstone is offering to rally all the clans to go to war against our mortal enemy, Stormheim. All he needs is your word.”

Sheilah shook her head. “If this is some test, then-”

Ladria frowned. “This isn’t a test, Sheilah. We’ve been talking about this for some time.”

Sheilah shook her head, her chest was boiling with emotion. “Since when?” She asked.

“Since always.” Mayrin replied, as if it were self-evident. “Since before the Clans drove out Stormheim. There’s always been the opinion that we should leave the Redstone to crush them. We are not safe if we just keep pushing them back.”

“Why haven’t I heard of this?” Sheilah asked, her heart pounding.

Mayrin gave her a look of condescension. “Because you were a child. It’s an adult’s responsibility to think of such things.”

Sheilah rolled her eyes, but it made sense.

“So why now?” She asked. “This is very sudden.”

Ladria gave her a baffled look. “We’ve been talking about it seriously since Caidi’s death, Sheilah.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Davian gave her a steady look, and although he had developed a lean, and it was obvious he was still drunk, his eyes were clear.

“Pacification.” He offered. “I should have thought of it, I should have realized it, but it just never came to mind until you gave me the last puzzle piece.”

“Sheilah gave him a confused look. “What piece?”

“Gnolls can live practically anywhere, but they’re from a land to the south of the Westlands. Growing up, I always thought that the Gnolls were always here, but-” He paused, and drank some water. “Stormheim uses them, Sheilah. They can live anywhere. They breed in large numbers. They can eat anything- even each other.” He paused. “You told me- You mentioned that they were up at the Keep. I went up there, you know.”

“That’s forbidden.” Sheilah immediately accused, and he grinned.

“That place was still burning. I don’t know what you did, but-”

Sheilah winced as a spike of pain lanced through her temple at the thought of the Keep. She wasn’t sure what she did, but-

“-you were right. The gnolls main nest was there. The alphas were there. They were smart. The alphas could even use magic. They’d hunted and eaten the Totem animals for sport.” His voice was aghast and disgusted, but there was also disappointment in there, too. He stopped and stared at his hands in his lap.

“I should have known. I was there, as a slave, when the Prince was being told how they were used. I should have put it together then, but I didn’t. I only remembered when I was up at the Keep after you told me.”

He let out a long, shaky breath. “Stormheim never really left. We’ve never really been free of their torment.” He looked up at Sheilah. “Stormheim killed Caidi, Sheilah. It wasn’t you, it wasn’t any mistake you made, it was Stormheim and I should have known it from the beginning.”

Sheilah’s hands curled in her lap, nails digging into her palms at that.

“If-” She began, but he overrode her.

“There’s another consideration, separate from the gnolls, but no less important. But the question remains: Sheilah, should we go to war with Stormheim?”

The dragon in her breast surged up, hot and fierce and demanding release. She did want vengeance, she did want judgement, she did want to vent her spleen on the world. She wanted everything wreathed in fire and ash, she wanted-

Ladria collapsed with a gasping cry, arm outstretched towards Sheilah, Davian and Mayrin were huddled together, whimpering

“Shit-” Sheilah swore, forcing the Dragon down and back, stuffed in the corner of her mind.

Her parents lay where they fell, gasping and choking.

“I’m so sorry-” She gasped, tears springing to her eyes.

It took several minutes for them to pull themselves back together, but after they sat back up, arranging themselves as they had before, Davian cracked, “Well, if there was ever a cure for drunkenness-” but Ladria fisted him in the ribs.

“I’m so sorry.” Sheilah repeated. Davian shook his head. “It’s going to take time to master the Dragon.” He paused. “Normally it’s not this intense, but you still have to control it; release it when you want.”

Sheilah nodded.

“Back to what we were talking about earlier: Sheilah, should we go to war with Stormheim?” He asked seriously, thumbing blood from his split lip. “Say the word and we go.”

“Why me?” She asked. He compressed his lips together, and looked down and then away.

“What’s the other condition?” She asked.

He looked at Ladria, who nodded, and then looked to Mayrin, who gave him a somewhat helpless shrug and a nod.

“Do you-” He paused, and then looked to Mayrin. “Go and find Kellia and Sellia. Tell them to eat with Rollan’s family.”

Her mouth twisted, but he gestured. “Don’t worry, I won’t start without you.” He replied to her unspoken request. She nodded and left the tent.

“We’ll put this conversation on hold until Mayrin comes back.” He announced, and then struggled to push himself to his feet. “I’ll make tea.”

“You’ll be up all night, beloved.” Ladria warned.

“I’ll be up all night anyway.” He replied, his voice heavy.

Sheilah sat and went inside her head. War with Stormheim?

She’d been raised in the shadow of fear from Stormheim. Stormheim could raid, enslave, slaughter and kill them at any time. Stormheim could march in at any moment, and it was only their vigilance that kept them safe.

But to leave the Redstone? It was a desolate, deadly place, but the Redstone was a reflection of the Clans: pitiless and deadly to outsiders. It was all that and more, but overall, it was home. The world outside of the Redstone might be completely different, but that was for others, other peoples. The Clans only needed the Redstone.

The Clans had protected their home for generations, all the way back to the First Blood, the primordial ancestor that had marched into the Ashlands and slain his first dragon. As far as she knew, they had never left the Redstone to march to war.

War was an unfamiliar concept. From time to time there was fighting between the Clans- it was unavoidable- but as far as she knew, there had never been outright war.

“What is a war?” She asked to herself.

“Well, it depends.” Ladria interjected before Davian could say anything. “Nation against nation, army against army. Some say that if you kill a tenth of an enemy- one out of every ten people- then you have won. Others say that you have to kill two out of every three people to claim victory in a war.”

One out of every ten people? Sheilah’s tribe was a little more than twenty- so only two people dead? That wouldn’t be enough to deter her tribe. Two out of every three people? Her mind reeled at the idea. Only one of her parents alive. Only one of her siblings.

And they would have to do this thing to Stormheim, an unknowable enemy, with uncountable forces and untold defenses.

“Could we do it?” She asked in a whisper.

Davian gave her a considering look. “We could. The way we fight is incompatible with how Stormheim fights. We could easily do it in a matter of days.” He paused, “Well, it would take a long time to get to their city, but once we began, it wouldn’t take long at all to kill them.”

Kill.

Sheilah had never killed another person before. Could she do it?