Year 215. Amphe - Khirn
“I have found that Nujant Chhank are exceptional at negotiations because of their ability to acquiesce while still intimidating the rest into giving them a fair deal.” - Acominatus, On the Nujant Chhank Pg. 3, Par 3.
GÍLA SENGHU
“Inhumans in Amphe. The world could not hate us more.”
Gíla let the sourness of this comment curdle the otherwise enthralled expression on her face. The man who made it must have seen this as he gave a short, callous laugh at her expense. In time, her enthrallment returned. She and her family had only been there for a few weeks, yet they had already become overwhelmed by its glamour. Amphe was a miracle of architecture, something far beyond what even the Orcin of Lo Khuzun could have dreamed of building. An entire mountain range, thousands of miles, leveled and reconstructed into a city that defied logic and reason.
Nevertheless, it worked with the pure functionality of a city half its size - no, smaller, an agricultural township. It was a city that housed millions of human beings, contained farmland to feed them all with crops grown from soil that never spoiled, and more room to let woods spread acres upon acres across if they planted the trees. The scents of roasted meats, dewy fruits, crunchy ripe vegetables, sweet oils, smithies’ steam, and the unmistakable aroma of mystharin . It was near intoxicating for the poor woman, who stumbled over her feet from time to time in awe of the city’s grand design, clustered though it was in areas due to the sheer population that inhabited it. Her mother and brother were forgiving of this, though her father was less so. They would use it against her, he said.
“Keep your wits sharp, daughter,” Helgol demanded on the day he was to meet this Dioúksis Audax. He adjusted the fine-robed clothing around his body, customary Nujant Chhank attire for diplomatic meetings. Velvet red with black coiling designs across it. “I would not have him take advantage of your curiosities for a city impossibly maintained by their hands.”
“What do you mean by that?” Daou asked, ensuring the security of his identically designed clothing.
“You can tell me that Amphe was built by their hands, but you cannot tell me that it continues to function by their hands,” Helgol said, nodding to himself in the mirror of their suite at the diplomatic apartments - an apparent consolidation from Audax’s council on the word of Lord Coronos. “They have snapped the twine that held them to the energies of the world. This city runs on it as hidden as it is. Can you not tell?”
Daou nodded. “I can, father. It is in the air like a malaise, begging to be utilized and going unseen.”
"Like the 'Unde," Gíla said. “Weeping for a time lost to them and hoping for a return to glory shattered like an old shield.”
“Precisely,” her father said with a small grin to both his children. Because they cannot sense that, their attention will be elsewhere, such as your curiosity. They will use it against you and, ultimately, us. We must be on our guard. And expect in your heart that this is all a ruse.”
“A ruse?” Gíla asked.
“Yes. A way to eliminate us. Expect that we may face death this day if this Audax proves as I expect him to.”
“Your mistrust of humanity is almost as overwhelming as this place,” Tearhas added as a final note before the family departed their apartment for the council chambers some ways away.
On the orders of Sir Coronos, the Nujant Chhank were escorted by an armed guard, shields raised to defend against the riotous crowd that lined either side of the streets in galled rage. Gíla could see in the faces of these guards that they wished nothing more than to lower their shields and let the crowds—whose voices had reached such an octave that all other sounds were mere whispers in the wind—rush the family and tear them apart. For once, beyond the cordial actions of Coronos, she was grateful for a human’s actions. At times, mounds of fecal matter and buckets of fluids were thrown at the family. Either by the shields of their begrudging guardians or their own reflexes, they avoided each attempted spoiling of their person.
“Our presence truly riles these folk,” Gíla muttered to her brother. She clung to his side, eyes wide with fascination at the swarm of humanity around them. “If things go as badly as Father anticipates...”
“I will worry about this when the time comes,” Daou said to her.
Gíla focused her eyes on the twisted scowl of a middle-aged man riddled with scars. Another without an arm, and two on sticks supporting their singular legs. Even more among them were sobbing, dressed in the colors of widows. “The conflict they are in has given them much pain.”
“We are lucky to have not been caught up in it yet,” Daou said.
“Humanity...they struggle against themselves.”
“A weak people where we are strong.”
“Too strong, some might say,” Gíla grunted, dodging more debris thrown directly at her head. Daou dodged along with her. “You heard what that Coronos said, right? ‘Nigh-unkillable. Strong in the old magic—mystharin . Strong in body too. Will rip the head off your shoulders in a single tug. They rule Aqella from the shadows and the front lines.’ What these people must think we are capable of...”
Daou gave a phantom smile. There was some confidence in it. “I would not blame them. After all, there is some truth to Coronos’ words. Nujant Chhank have ruled their lands from Asne Unarith since humanity made its first exodus to Khirn. We have only been defeated thrice in war.”
“I find it difficult to call our conflicts with the dragons 'war,’” Gíla said, rubbing her eyes as memories of those historical lectures flooded her expression.
“It was war, regardless of how brutal it was,” Daou corrected. “We only need to remember that we survived that. We can survive this.”
“Can they?” Gíla asked, nodding her head toward the humans. More within the crowd bore injuries so gruesome that Gíla had to close her eyes to avoid seeing them.
“I do not know,” Daou answered. “If even one of us was fighting with them, they would.”
“Do you think so?” Gíla asked.
Daou nodded. “I do, but we will not do that. We are here for one thing, not to be drawn up into their fights.”
“They could use the help,” Gíla whispered.
“They would abuse it, sister,” Daou warned. “Think nothing of them. Let us finish this day and move on.”
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The interior of the council hall was unexpectedly simple in comparison to the city they ruled. It was smaller than their inns, and Gíla assumed was far less decorated as well. It was within a large dome-shaped building, though much of its space was left empty save for torches, sconces, and braziers. In its center, flanked by large wooden doors as tall as a Giant of the Black Glass, was a round table Gíla quickly noted was normally seated for forty people. Its design and the spacing she marked between scuff marks on the well-maintained floor indicated as such. Every chair except those set out for the family—four extras set in a space at the end facing the main entrance—was filled by a figure in lavish robes that darkly contrasted with the austere interior.
“Lord Audax, may I present the Drayheller Sir Coronos had requested that you meet,” a young man leading the procession of guards that had escorted them here bellowed.
Dioúksis Audax, a large portly figure whose mass was almost enough to put Helgol during the winter to shame, waved his hand at the crier. They glared at the family as they entered past the procession and continued glaring as they took their seats. Gasps resounded around the table as they did this, eyes flocking to them. The doors to the chamber were closed with an emphatic loudness. Gíla settled her eyes on the one known as Svend, standing just off to the side with crossed arms. Coronos and a few others from that fateful retinue stood by, and judging by their abilities of stealth and tracking atop the mountain, she was certain that many more were hiding in the shadows in wait.
For two minutes, no one spoke as the tension rose to a boiling point. If this were a stew, Gíla would have been tempted to remove the pot from the flames. Helgol finally spoke at the nudging of his wife. “Dioúksis Audax, I was informed by your Coronos that you would be willing to speak regarding what we found in the mountains. Do I have your promise that we can expect this to be a cordial discussion without undue threat to our lives?”
“You do,” Dioúksis Audax agreed after another moment of silence.
"Good," Helgol smiled. “I will grant you the time to ask any questions that you may have before we discuss terms.”
“In respect to Dioúksis Audax’s flared spirits in this most trying time, I will be the one asking questions before terms are discussed,” said the councilor on the Dioúksis’s direct right. Their face was flushed red, and wisps of ginger hair poked from their chin and cheeks. The rest of the councilors wore lavish suits bearing the colors seen on the shields and surcoats of the warriors filling this city. Sapphire and black with drawn hoods over their heads and collars of shiny onyx and gloves of similar material. “We have much to ask, Sir...”
“Helgol,” Gíla’s father rumbled. “Helgol Senghu. You will address me and only me unless I decide otherwise.”
The councilor nodded. "Sir Helgol, I am Councilor Mydon of Amphe’s Most Esteemed Assembly. I have here a list of questions regarding your family, your intentions, and the mountain where you were discovered.”
Tearhas leaned close to Helgol. Gíla listened to their whispers. “Husband, be diplomatic. Remember that.”
“It is okay, wife. I will handle this,” he said quietly. “They will not take anything from us.”
“That is not what I-”
“Be warned that I will not answer anything of a deeply personal nature, Councilor Mydon,” Helgol said loudly, ignoring his wife’s attempt at counsel. “Nor anything that I think you should not know.”
“We will take your answers as given,” Councilor Mydon responded slowly. “You are Drayheller, correct? Of Aqella.”
"We are Nujant Chhank. Drayheller is the name you humans gave us. That and ‘Bear Folk.’”
“My apologies, Sir Helgol. I am afraid I cannot pronounce your proper name.”
Following a pleading look from Gíla and her mother, Helgol sighed. “Drayheller, for now, will work. But you will learn how to say our real name. Yes, we are of Aqella.”
Councilor Mydon nodded. “Thank you, Sir Helgol. Now, Coronos gave all of us a preliminary briefing of what he learned from you. But we would all like to hear directly from you and your family. What are you doing here in Khirn, the home of humanity, which you must know does not take kindly to your people or anyone not of human nature?”
Helgol licked his lips and breathed in sharply. “Excavation of history. Recovery of ancient lore. Discovery of truths lost to us and yourselves. Where did the Golden Lords go? Who came before the first humans in Khirn? And so on. As I told Coronos.”
“Before the first humans?” another councilor repeated. “No one was here in Khirn before us. We were here first after the mass exodus to escape Aqella.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“Falsehoods,” Helgol said. “An incorrect belief. Delusions. Khirn was inhabited before. Reports of what your Tahririans are discovering every year in their tombs reach far and wide, humans. Skeletons. Fossils. Relics. Lost treasures that defy what you should know about this place that you leave to be hoarded by a singular nation because of fear and denial. We seek to uncover the truth of these things.”
“And that is what the Bastion in the mountain can help with?” Councilor Mydon asked.
“Yes, as I told your Coronos.”
“How long have you been searching?” another councilor asked.
“Two hundred years,” Tearhas answered, much to the audible shock of the rest. Dioúksis Audax remained glaring and silent. “We have been wandering this world for a very long time in search of this place. In search of these truths. It is imperative to us that we accomplish it and accomplish it without needless conflict.”
“Why?”
“It is our life’s goal,” Gíla answered quickly, the passion of the adventure breaking through her voice. “We have done so much to achieve this. That is the reason why we are even here. We want to achieve it, but we do not want to cause a quarrel. We want what is best for both of us...”
Murmurs cascaded around the table. Gíla tried her best to ignore the wary stare from her father, once more settling her eyes on the one known as Svend. He met her stare and nodded with the slightest grin.
“What will happen if you gain all of this knowledge?” Dioúksis Audax asked before their councilor could. Their voice was rife with mistrust. “Will you gain some advantage over the world? Some mystical domination like the Druyans try to gain?”
“My Lord, please be patient,” Councilor Mydon cautioned.
“No, we heard enough from Coronos. Let us speak terms and be done with this swiftly,” the Dioúksis insisted.
“Mystical? No, not purely,” Helgol said with an ire-inducing grin that his wife pressed him to drop with rapid pleading whispers. “The sciences within could advance us in our homeland. Us. The Nujant Chhank.”
“Could it not advance us as well? Surely it is not limited only to you.” Dioúksis Audax leaned forward, raising a brow and adopting a somewhat curt tone. Their belly was pressed painfully against the edge of the table, rolling over it like a wave of flesh. “Coronos told me of its supposed capacity for people. That if you and I come to an agreement, it could be used as an emergency shelter for my people. Even a fortress for my armies. That is all well and good, but there must be something else that can be used.”
“The answer is quite complicated,” Tearhas began saying in the kindly, motherly tone that Gíla was so fond of. “Your kind—humanity—have evolved in a way far different from us. These differences have made it difficult for you to access certain things of the past when mystharin was far more prevalent in your societies.”
“You are finite, Dioúksis Audax,” Helgol interrupted, forcing back a snarl at the clear implications of the Dioúksis’s desires and undermining his wife’s attempts at diplomacy. “You and your species. As I told Coronos, you are cut off from the potencies required to understand even the most basic of formulae said to reside within that place.” Helgol leaned back in his chair and exhaled through his nose. “It will not work for you. Only us. Or others who come from Aqella.”
Dioúksis Audax shared a look with Councilor Mydon, and Gíla shared one with the thing known as Svend. “And that cannot be changed?” Dioúksis Audax asked.
“Yes, it can,” Tearhas tried to say.
"No," Helgol declared. “It cannot. Not unless you drastically reshape all of Khirn’s society to accept their lost potential. And even then, it is not a certainty and is more likely to just waste our time.”
“So you will not help us accomplish it?” Councilor Mydon asked in a tone that bordered on desperation. Gíla saw in their eyes that they, too, could see how this meeting was going to end up.
“No,” Helgol said. “Not without conditions.”
The Dioúksis curled their lip. “And those conditions?”
Helgol shifted in his seat and rolled his shoulders. He placed his hands together on the table. “What is discovered there cannot be used for war. If it comes to the Bastion being sieged, you will flee and let it be taken peacefully so that we might secure its continued existence with the new rulers. But you will do everything you must to ensure it is not drawn into your conflicts. You may use it for study, for the safety of your people, even for stationing or supplying your army areas we designate. If your god is still listening, for the advancement of your society in an academic and scientific sense. But what we discover there is ours. The facilities on the surface can be yours to use, but below is our domain.”
“If this place holds history beyond reckoning, as you say, disregarding its vile origins in the Devil’s magic, it must hold weapons of a powerful nature,” the Dioúksis suggested. “One of them would be enough to turn the tide of our war. Two would win it. Three would ensure that my kingdom would never face threats again.”
“I will not allow you to plunder that place to satiate your bloodlust,” Helgol snarled.
Gíla leaned close to her father once again. “Father, please. Consider letting them take-” He silenced her with a wave of his hand, but she spoke up again. “What if...what if I fight for him instead of you giving him any weapons?” He did not hear her.
“It is not bloodlust, Sir Helgol,” Dioúksis Audax seethed. “It is a desire to protect my people, to protect humanity from the evil that has infested our home.”
“Ah, yes. Evil. The fight with your own king,” Helgol chortled darkly. “Evil, is he?”
“Highly,” the Dioúksis concurred. “If what you are saying is true, Sir Helgol, then that place could hold the answer we need to end him and bring peace to our homes.”
“Father, I can help with that. I can fight with them,” Gíla whispered, only to be met with disregard once again.
“Using that place to end your war in violence will only spawn more evil, and I will not allow it!” Helgol bared his teeth, drawing worried gasps from the councilors. Tearhas placed her hands on his arm, bringing his temper down enough to merely be breathing heavily.
“Tell us what we can do to convince you to let us use it for good,” Councilor Mydon pleaded.
“Nothing!” Helgol snapped. “You are all so driven by war that I cannot trust that you will not corrupt the Bastion for its purposes after your fight with your king!”
The Dioúksis nodded and turned their gaze to Daou. “What of your family? Do you share such a belief?”
“I do,” Daou answered without hesitation.
“And you?” they asked Tearhas.
“...Yes,” she answered hesitantly.
“And you?” Audax finally settled on Gíla.
“I...” she answered slowly.
“She does,” Helgol answered for her.
Dioúksis Audax leaned back. “Then what can benefit me and my people beyond its spacious capacity and facilities? What makes it anything more than a glorified barracks? That can convince me to let you go back to it and not ship you off back to Aqella? Or act upon my rights and kill you here?”
"Nothing," Helgol said. “Only space and what I think you should know, if anything.”
“That is not enough,” Dioúksis Audax scowled. “You invade my home and use heretical powers to manipulate the world before our eyes, then deem us unworthy of knowing what it is you seek to discover even though it relates directly to humanity? You refuse to let us use its power to defend ourselves against evil? In exchange for what? Space? Study that none of us will live to see the outcome of? No, sir. That is not good enough.”
“Very well,” Helgol answered. “But know that you cannot access the Bastion without us. You will be left without anything.”
“What if I fight for you?” Gíla exclaimed in a volume that shuddered the dome’s ceiling, drawing the eyes of her family and all others at the table. “What if I fight for you to replace what my father will not let you take from its vaults?”
“What?” was the generally uttered word throughout the chamber.
“Sister, you are insane for even voicing such a thought,” Daou spat, rising to his feet. Soldiers around the room readied their weapons. “What-”
“You said yourself that one of us would help in this fight, did you not?” Gíla inquired while leaving her eyes glued to the table’s surface, avoiding all of the eyes on her. “Did you not?”
“I was merely passing the time of a lengthy walk! Not giving you suggestions, Gíla!” Daou shouted.
“It is the best course to meet the Dioúksis’ full terms and ours!”
“Daughter, what madness has overtaken you?” Helgol asked.
“I am trying to ensure that our family leaves this place alive and that our journey is not in vain, father!” Gíla practically roared.
“Putting yourself in this conflict is not the answer,” Helgol protested.
“I am trying-”
“Of all the things you could have suggested-”
Gíla raised her eyes to her father’s, the gold of her irises bleeding so hot as to have been stars in her skull. “What else can I do? You fail to entertain any alternatives that could achieve both goals, Father. Your distrust of humanity is as overwhelming as the city we are in, as Mother said. You tell them "no" without listening to what they can offer. You insult them in their own home.”
“They insult us out there in the streets!” Helgol pointed at the closed doors. “They throw trash at us, demean us, assume us to be marauders!”
“As you do to them!” Gíla rose to her feet. “I am not asking that you rethink how you see them in an instant, but to at least try an alternative to outright denial and our way being the only way. We are scholars and explorers, not mathematicians stuck to a strict unchanging formula. Let me at least try to mend something of a relationship between us and them. Help them win their war and keep our life’s work safe.”
“You cannot think that that would be enough!” Daou questioned.
“It would be,” Dioúksis Audax said in a voice somewhere near overbearingly tense. “Coronos told me of your people. Strong. Near-invincible. Inhuman you may be, but...I would be willing to overlook all of this, all of it, for a time until we can discuss it again in calmer climes. One of you...one of you might be enough to save this war from the Druyans.”
“I will not allow it,” Helgol shook his head. “Not my daughter’s life, not so you can damage her soul with your barbarism, just so I can keep the Bastion safe from you.”
“Father-”
“No! I will not allow it!”
“Damn your stubbornness, husband!” Tearhas suddenly slammed her palms on the table, cracking lines to its center. Several of the councilors jumped from their seats, and more of the soldiers throughout the chambers readied their spears. Helgol stared slack-jawed at his wife. “Our daughter is a woman grown. She has followed your demands every day, but now is when she must branch out as a Nujant Chhank. If this is enough to achieve both our goals, keep the Bastion safe, keep our family safe from all of Khirn, and end the conflict that puts both in danger...then let it happen.”
“But-”
“No, husband. If Gíla wants this, then let her do it. She can defend herself. She is our daughter.”
Helgol breathed as if he had just climbed The Crest all over again and set his glare on the Dioúksis after a full minute of silence. “I...I need..."
“Father, please.”
It took twelve days for Helgol Senghu to come to terms with the offer, and for twelve days they waited in the apartment gifted to them for their stay. On the twelfth day, Helgol Senghu returned the Dioúksis within the council hall. “You...you will keep her safe. You will give her an honor guard, you will place her in a position of safety. I care not how you do it, but you will keep her safe even in the midst of a-a siege, or not even your god will be able to save this city. Do we have an understanding, Dioúksis Audax?”
“You dare threaten the Dioúksis of Amphe?” one of the guards challenged, only stopping his approach when Dioúksis Audax commanded it.
Audax stood up and nodded, though their face was still stretched thin into a scowl of mistrust and tension. “We have an understanding, Sir Helgol.”
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“Where are they sending you?” Helgol asked with a quivering voice as Gíla put away the last of her essentials into the issued traveling pack.
Gíla tied the pack shut. “Some village called Gortinda. The Dioúksis believes that my presence will be the final cinch needed to secure both.”
“Will there be any fighting?”
Gíla saw the sadness on his face and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I believe so, father. But I will be fine. Daou and mother taught me much about fighting. As much as you did of survival.”
“You will be the last one standing,” Helgol attempted to put on a proud expression, but Gíla could see the absolute fear behind it.
“Make...make sure you ask for a hammer,” Daou added, looking away in discomfort. “You were always best with a hammer.”
Gíla smiled and pulled her brother into a tight hug. “I will, Daou. Worry not. I will be sure to send you trinkets I find throughout these human lands.”
“Once we get the smithies up and running, those are going to be smelted down very quickly,” Daou laughed, prompting Gíla to lightly punch his arm.
She finally turned her attention to Tearhas, who was the least worried or sad among her family. “Make us proud, Gíla,” she said as she cupped her daughter’s face into her hands. “I know you will do great things, war or not. Educate them on their history—the one they are not taught.”
“I will, mother,” Gíla grinned brightly.
Tearhas nodded and released her daughter, who took her final goodbyes and departed the apartment suite for the distant village of Gortinda and the fate that had awaited her since the day she was born into the world.