Anchon

Horus

What was I doing wrong?

Inside my future Friend’s murder dungeon, I had excelled. My axe swept away the muck and shit and pitch for My Lady. My hands worked away those delightful knots in her shoulders. My impervious fur protected her from the poison darts and crushing rocks and even kept her safe during our brief swim in my future Friend’s delightful swimming pool.

Yet ever since we left, things had been different.

We had returned to Anchon. “To report on the gate and this Nyx – to send word back to Asphodel,” My Lady said. I had resisted; had wielded my [Bullshit] with impressive strength and skill. Yet, My Lady insisted. “It was our duty,” she said. “Danae needed to be treated,” she argued. She was not wrong and even my [Bullshit] couldn’t refute her points.

So, instead, I continued to act on Rowan’s advice – to destroy the obstacles to My Lady’s heart. In this case, enormous piles of paperwork.

In the past, I had avoided such work. Putting pen to page was meant for the secrets of the heart. That was why writing was invented, for penning private and heartfelt and sometimes wishful and probably incriminating secrets and then hiding those pages away where no one would ever read them or judge you. Ever.

It was not for lists of “casualties” and “equipment” and “expenses.”

Not for dry reports that barely made mention of my overwhelming strength or our fiery chemistry or the way the swamp mist sparkled in the wake of My Lady’s fury as she destroyed a mile-wide swath of marsh.

And yet… I discovered something new amid those pages.

[Bullshit] utterly destroyed paperwork.

I crushed those piles of paper with impeccable precision. Demolished manifests and expense statements with the expertise of a seasoned accountant. And utterly annihilated the detailed descriptions of the deaths of the many, many members of my former unit. Everyone except Danae. I-I even enjoyed that last part, although I am ashamed to admit it.

In less than an hour it was over and I felt something I’d never expected – a sensation normally reserved for the aftermath of glorious and brutal battle.

My blood song sang an anthem of victory.

Yet My Lady’s reaction quieted that song in an instant.

She walked in, stopped, and stared at those piles – neatly stacked and organized alphabetically, of course – her beautiful eyes a blaze of glorious fury and surprise. Then came the many, many detailed questions. And her fire only grew brighter as I answered each with ease as burning gaze skimmed those pages. Even though I plied her with the power of [Bullshit], she insisted on reviewing the paperwork herself, muttering and smoldering.

Her dedication to her duty was admirable.

No doubt, the loss of those useless vessels weighed on her mind.

Or, at least, so I thought. So, I had attempted to help her in another way, to smooth away those knots in her shoulders – her neck pinched taut and tight. To bring her tea. Meals when she refused to eat. Bedding when she didn’t return to her tent.

Yet, even then… she spurned me.

Told me to, “Leave her alone.”

And, “To get the fuck out!”

Why? Perhaps it was me? Or… us?

Perhaps she hadn’t heard the words that my Future Friend had spoken?

“Are you dating?” he’d asked.

“You’d make a cute couple,” he’d said.

Or perhaps I was reading into things. Perhaps My Lady was right to check the paperwork. With an opponent as cunning and ruthless as my future Friend, such caution was warranted. That must be why it had been four days now since we returned. However, I was left with nothing to occupy my time – no enemies to kill; no problems to crush—

Ahh, but that was not entirely true. More [Bullshit]. It came so easily now.

There was one problem I was still attempting to destroy.

“Sorry,” Rowan muttered, sweeping into my tent. “I tried to get away sooner, but Eris has been on the warpath ever since she got back. Seriously, I think she might finally be losing it. She’s wouldn’t even let me—”

The sprite froze as he saw me. Or perhaps it was the creation in the center of my oversized tent. I was building it for My Lady. My Future Friend had inspired me with his works. A furnace made of sewer clay, that heated bath, and, his finest work, that glorious, above-ground swimming pool filled with the blood of his many, many victims. If we were to chase after my future Friend, we would need transportation suitable for My Lady.

“Is that… is that supposed to be a carriage?” Rowan asked hesitantly.

“It is,” I grunted, slapping the top—

Perhaps too hard. It collapsed, the lumber snapping.

That kept happening. It was so easy to destroy this problem. Too easy, actually.

Oh, well. I threw the scrap in the growing pile in the corner, Rowan’s eyes following the arc of the timbers before they crashed into the mound. The one now towering ten feet.

“Do, um… that is, would you like some help?” the sprite offered.

I looked at the pile of broken wood and the few intact pieces remaining. Hmm, that was another problem. How would I get more without alerting My Lady? She’d already been spending so much time pouring over equipment and resource manifests…

“Yes, yes please,” I replied finally.

Rowan shook his head, a green glow suffusing his fingertips and flowers and vines soon began to wind up out of the floor, twining together and lifting the remaining lumber into place. A carriage was slowly stitching itself together in the center of the tent now. Meanwhile, the sprite slumped back onto an oversized flower that sprouted from the ground and his pipe appeared in his hand. He took a long hit, his eyes straying to my face.

“So, uh, how was the corrupted gate?” Rowan asked finally. “I mean, I heard Eris’ version and read her incredibly exhaustive report, but it was missing a few important details.”

I shook my head. How to describe it…

“It was a grotesque hellscape paved in shit, pitch, and blood.”

“So, uh that doesn’t sound—”

“In short, it was exquisite,” I continued with a sigh that blew the side of the tent taut like the sail of a ship. “I miss it so much.

“The Hollow created a true masterclass in suffering,” I continued, staring off into space – lost in my memories. “Tunnels filled with pitch and fire that only My Lady and I could conquer, followed by a spa-like oasis – he even built his own heated bath and My Lady and I bonded in its destruction. Then the cellar games to showcase my strength and endurance, followed by a refreshing dip in a swimming pool filled with blood. I can still see her so clearly, My Lady shivering and glaring and smoldering in the moonlight.”

"That’s, uh, interesting,” Rowan offered hesitantly, eyeing his pipe and then taking another long hit. “But what about you and Eris? Did anything happen there?”

“It did. In fact, it was almost like my future Friend knew me. That he planned all of that just to—to help me,” I said.

“Your future friend? Ahh, yes – the Hollow,” Rowan muttered, shaking his head incredulously, a small frown on his lips. “At least, it sounds like you and Eris grew closer.”

“We did. I even held her in my arms. Twice!”

Rowan just blinked, fluorescent smoke drifting from his lips as he prepared to take another hit. “Uh, that’s not quite what I meant—”

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“He also inspired me, my future Friend,” I continued, oblivious, lost in my memories. “As I saw the genius of his torture dungeon and considered your advice, I had a thought! Many things can be weapons, yes? Even weak, pitiful flowers.”

Rowan nodded and shrugged. “Sure?”

“So, I asked myself a question - what if my words could be a weapon? That’s when everything changed. I acquired a new skill. It is called [Bullshit]!”

A puff of smoke blasted from Rowan’s lips, the sprite devolving into a hacking coughing fit as he pounded at his chest. Not that I spared him any attention.

My hands clenched into fists. “Finally, I thought. Finally, I’d discovered a weapon that could cut through my Lady’s armor, that could pierce her heart and chain it together with mine. She feels the same way I do. I just know it.”

Rowan was very quiet and when I turned, he had an expression on his face I didn’t recognize. His eyes and mouth were forming three perfect circles.

Was it the new skill? Such things were typically kept confidential among the Guides.

But there was no need for secrets among True Friends.

Rowan had taught me that long ago.

“Are you okay?” I asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

Maybe I had finally found the sprite’s weakness?

He blinked. Blinked again. Then he shook his head, stared down at his pipe, back at me, and then he must have decided he needed another hit. This one took even longer.

“Yeah, I was just, uh, processing,” Rowan muttered sometime later, smoke spiraling around him in a thick, iridescent cloud. “That was just… a lot.”

“Also terrifying,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Ahh, nothing – nothing at all!” Rowan chirped. Hmm, his eye was twitching. It must be fatigue. Eris had locked him up for days to help with the paperwork. Even true warriors grew tired. “So, it sounds like things went well. Sort of. What did Eris say?”

That’s when my expression fell. We had not spoken much since our return. There was only her work and her lists and her reports. “Nothing. That is the problem! I assumed we would already be planning the wedding.”

I already knew what flowers I would ask Rowan to grow for us.

Sunflowers. Because her spirit shone like the sun.

Also, because they shot beams of fire. My Lady would love it.

“Ahh,” Rowan observed softly.

He eyed me up and down, his gaze appraising – the same look he used on the battlefield. I sensed the advice of a true warrior coming and I was ready.

“Love can be a tricky thing,” the sprite began tactfully. “However, it’s easy to get caught up in your own feelings. To get ahead of yourself or even read into things—”

“I could feel our connection,” I interjected, stomping a hoof and the ground trembling. “You also did not hear what my Future Friend said!”

“Uh, alright… which is what?”

“That we would make a cute couple.”

“I, uh… I don’t doubt that,” Rowan replied, shaking his head. “I’m just saying, until she admits those feelings, you can’t be certain whether she feels the same way.”

As he saw my ears droop and shoulders slump, Rowan looked frustrated, searching for the words to convey his point. “I’m not saying you should give up. The opposite in fact.”

“But my Future Friend already asked us if we were together? Does that mean nothing?” I demanded.

Rowan’s eye was twitching again. “Well, sort of, yes—” The sprite cutoff as he saw my eyes blazing white. He quickly put up his hands. “Alright let’s start over…”

He shifted upright on his flower, leaning forward. “Okay, love is war.”

I nodded. Of course. I knew that already. Everything was war.

“Alright, but that gate was just one battle. The war isn’t over.”

And suddenly, just like that, I understood what Rowan was trying to say!

“Ahh, I have it now!” I said with a broad smile, one that showed off the full length of my tusks. “Thank you, Rowan.”

“No problem,” the sprite offered with a wave and a chuckle. “It’s not—"

“The only way to win this war for her love is to force her to admit her feelings.”

“Uh, wait, that’s not quite—”

“That must be my future Friend’s plan,” I continued, my mind racing as the pieces all finally slammed into place. “He intends to be the bait – to distract My Lady and lure her out of the safety of her tent and away from her paperwork. Which means he meant for me to learn [Bullshit]. He gave me a weapon that could cut through the walls she’s built around her heart. And when she’s focused entirely on him, that’s my time to pounce!”

My fist smacked the nearby table and it collapsed into a fresh pile of debris.

“Just like back in his perfect murder dungeon!”

Rowan stared back, his pipe hanging limp in his hands. His eyes and mouth were making those strange shapes again. “Uh, alright, maybe we should start over—

Yet those words died on his lips as the tent flap swept open.

Mist coiled inside, spiraling around My Lady’s slender legs, her mail gleaming in the sudden flash of sunlight. And as the flap fell back, shadows hovered around her face, her eyes framed in blazing fire – not quite enough to hide the dark circles that hung beneath the smoldering flames like warpaint. Her shoulders were tense and tight. Her hair tangled. Evidence of the sacrifices she’d made for her duty – the many days spent checking my paperwork. Her eyes promising a merciless death.

In short, she was breathtaking.

And now those burning eyes were locked on Rowan’s creation, fingers twisting at her ring as she took in the carriage in all its glory. I’d lost track of his progress during my story, yet Rowan’s spirit had kept going. The vehicle was now a resplendent white, stained that way by his flowers, the boards held together by thick vines. Flowers bloomed across the surface in a rainbow of colors, motes of glowing pollen fluttering through the air.

My Lady sucked in a sharp breath, pressing a hand to her chest.

“What is this?” she asked in a clipped voice.

Rowan was still frozen in surprise, his pipe in hand.

Yet, I’d had much practice with the [Bullshit], so I stepped in smoothly. “Since you were focused on securing Anchon and reporting the status of our operations and you excel at such administrative work, I decided to focus my efforts elsewhere. We will need transportation when we leave to hunt the Hollow. This is your carriage… My lady,” I offered.

At the same time, I tugged open the door – making sure to be extra gentle.

As I did, a cloud of pollen swept out… and as those motes touched the ground, flowers bloomed there, forming a thick carpet.

I was impressed. Rowan had gone to a lot of effort. It was magnificent.

Except My Lady’s eyes were only burning more brightly.

“No way. This, uh… this will not do,” she muttered, shaking her head.

I cocked my own, my mane swaying. She was having difficulty making eye contact.

Instead, her gaze locked on Rowan and her brow furrowed as she finally noticed him sitting on an oversized flower, his pipe in his hand, and his brain still trying to register what he was seeing. He must have taken too many hits. Another sound lesson from a true warrior and Friend. No doubt, he’d manufactured this situation to demonstrate that even he wasn’t immune to his own smoke.

“What are you doing here, Rowan?” Her eyes shot back to the carriage, fingers still twisting anxiously at her ring. “Did you help Horus make this—this thing?”

The sprite looked at me then, his expression pleading.

And it was at that moment I knew he’d planned this. A True Friend to the end.

“I forced him to help me,” I interjected, My Lady turning that beautiful, burning gaze back to me. I prayed its searing heat would never fade.

“His puny body is useless and his spirit is strange, but he can occasionally be useful. However, I’m sorry he offended you with this hideous and impractical design.” Rowan winced at that one. “Clearly, this won’t allow us to easily traverse the swamp – he must have been attempting to “tease” me as he is known to do. No doubt, out of resentment for being forced to perform such a demeaning task.”

My Lady wavered, her fury fading into confusion. Even Rowan was looking at me behind her back, mouthing the word “wow” and softly clapping.

She whirled and he sobered in an instant. “Rowan? Is this the truth?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s right. He, uh, made me build the stupid… ugly… impractical carriage,” the sprite offered, wincing on each word.

My Lady watched him, then nodded.

“Danae?” she demanded then.

All eyes in the room turned to the vulpin woman that had been standing in the corner of the tent the whole time. Ahh, I’d forgotten she was there. I’d ordered her to stay near me after we returned to Anchon. I couldn’t kill her – My Lady would get suspicious – but she knew too much for me to leave her to her own devices. Better to keep your Friends close and your enemies closer. Those were Rowan’s words. And Danae was either one or the other. Or possibly even both.

And now the vulpin was looking between the three of us in confusion.

Then her eyes met mine – my irises glowing bright white and my axe rising behind me ominously. A warning. When My Lady glanced over her shoulder at me, I caught the hilt neatly and saluted her with the blade.

She frowned, but turned back to Danae. “Well?”

The vulpin swallowed hard. “That’s, uh… exactly what happened,” she chirped.

Another long pause and then—

“Fine, then I shall accept it,” My Lady said finally.

She still didn’t look entirely convinced, but that was okay. I could use our time on the road to wear away at her defenses with an endless barrage of [Bullshit]. She would have nowhere to flee in the marshes.

“So, um, how do you plan to travel if you aren’t going to use the carriage?” Rowan offered, pointing to his creation.

My Lady looked caught off guard.

“Well, that’s…” She trailed off uncertainly.

“Clearly, a true warrior relies on nothing more than their own two legs,” I interjected, stepping forward and laying a hand on the carriage, the wood snapping under the weight of my arm. “Besides, it will be easier to find signs of the Hollow’s passage if we are on foot. At least, I assume that’s what My Lady must be thinking.”

She glared at me, and then, moments later, her expression softened. A small smile pulled at her lips and fire lit her eyes in a twinkling blaze. “Hmm, Horus is right. I am much, much faster on foot. Hopefully, you’ll be able to keep up,” she added, our eyes locked, a challenge in her gaze. A test perhaps.

And I could hear my blood singing in my veins. It was already starting – what Rowan had described! This must be the second battle in the war for her love.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, My Lady.” I replied, bowing deeply. “I will always make sure your path is clear – always.”

My Lady’s fire dimmed and she looked suddenly uncertain. “Ahh… I guess we’ll see. Speaking of which, we’re nearly ready to leave. Make sure you have your supplies prepared – both of you,” she said, waving at Danae.

Then My Lady swept out of the tent in a blur of fire.

Proof of her speed. She was indeed fast.

But not nearly fast enough to outrun my love.

As soon as she vanished, Rowan and Danae let out a collective sigh.

The sprite was glaring at the carriage. “Ugly? Slow? This thing can travel by root system and I infused it with a ton of nimbus, it’ll be way faster than running on foot. And how is Danae supposed to keep up?” he demanded.

“I could stay here—” the Vulpin squeaked eagerly, raising a hand.

“I shall carry her,” I interjected, stomping a hoof.

“Oh, that’s really not necessary—oof!” Danae grunted as I lifted her one hand and slung her over my shoulder. She weighed nothing.

“And thank you,” I said to Rowan. “I won’t return until I have won this war – until My Lady has admitted her feelings. You are a True Warrior and Friend.”

Then I was gone, the whole tent shuddering as I left.

Which left Rowan standing there, staring wide-eyed and shaking his head.

“That’s actually not—” he began.

“Ahh, fuck it.” he muttered to himself. “Honestly, how bad can it turn out?”

He hesitated, his eyes growing troubled as they slid across the stack of ruined timber, the remains of his carriage, the scorch marks the elf had left along the floor… and the hole in the tent where I had made my departure. Then he looked down at his pipe—

And took the mother of all hits.