A fire, with its vigorous and elegant prance, kept the pot above steaming. Embers crackled as the pot's base blackened with every fiery lick. Sliced Amur fungi and Yama leaves spun about the pot’s center as Wati stirred the mix. She poured in a bowl of Antan powder. When the broth’s liquid slowly grew viscous pale-brownish, Wati sprinkled loops of Adbawan that she had just diced into the steaming pot. The fragrant saliva-inducing smell drifted toward Wati’s face. She inhaled a huge wisp of them. Wati couldn’t believe that it wasn’t a Mantra of Wellspring. Because it rejuvenated her after the long march to Nadin Strip.

Wati stirred her cooking more vigorously as if she had just cast a speed boost on herself.

“I’m concerned.” Wati heard one of her colleagues speak behind her.

Wati ignored the comment.

“Nah,” Aryo replied. “Let her.”

Wati looked behind her, toward Aryo. The Danker was sitting on a short wooden stool. His face was bright with a smile aimed toward her. Wati smiled back. Aryo flashed an eyebrow. Wati was eager to have him taste the new recipe she had just learned several days ago. He would love it.

Dusk blanketed the island continent. The sky was pretty clear that day with only little hints of Mount Wardhana's ashes. Wisps of cold air filled Wati's lungs. A hot Amur soup was just the thing she needed to combat the cold of Mananggal’s wilderness during the night. The Great Transformation had made the Dankers’ skin more tolerant towards heat. However, that didn't mean they could bathe in Mount Wardhana’s lava reservoir. The trade-off was that they were more susceptible to cold. The cold nights could be unbearable sometimes but at least it didn't snow like in Praskovia.

Wati picked a small portion of the soup with a spoon. She let the creamy meal warm her tongue. The savory liquid gave a sweet sensation indicative of achievement. She was delighted that she pulled it off in the first try. She was unsure whether she made it taste exactly like the recipe told her. But the one that she made matched her taste.

“Alright boys, it's ready,” Wati announced.

Three Legionaries lined up behind her. Aryo was at the rear. They took off their helmet and flipped it. Hartono crouched and handed over his helmet first.

“Still concerned?” Wati jokingly asked him.

“I prefer not to starve.” He replied.

“Of course,” Wati said. She picked up a ladle and poured the Amur soup into Hartono's helmet. Sliced Amur and diced vegetables fell from the ladle in a waterfall of pale-brown liquid. Wati watched as the fragrant steam drifted through Hartono's face. It amused her seeing Hartono flattened his lips over it. A whole Klethek Sea must have formed inside his mouth. Wati gave him three ladles worth of the soup.

Hartono nodded in gratitude. Marno, who was younger than her, was next in line. He was silent when Wati poured the soup into his helmet, but his face clearly showed intrigue. He spoke the least out of the group. He just came out of training three months ago and was shoved into Wati's squad. Wati could tell that he was pretty hesitant to retrieve a dinner cooked by his senior. She considered talking to him more often to get rid of that ice barrier.

“Thank you, mum,” Marno said after Wati gave him three ladles.

Wati gave him an awkward look. “I'm only twenty-five.” She said.

“Well…” Marno shrugged. “That's still seven years older than me.”

“I don't look that old, do I?”

“Yes, you are.” Aryo cut in.

Marno looked behind him and giggled.

Wati pointed her ladle at Aryo. “Shut up.”

When it was Aryo's turn, Wati withdrew her ladle and put a lid on top of the pot.

“Compliment me first.” She said.

Aryo looked at Wati with a face that clearly said ‘Seriously?’. He then stood up and turned to Hartono and Marno.

“Any of you mind sharing?” Aryo asked.

Wati flattened her lips and stood up. She resolutely pinched Aryo's pointy left ear. Aryo flinched. Wati slowly sat back on her stool, dragging Aryo with her.

“Ow…ow…ow…” Aryo's stuttering was unanswered. But he didn't seem to mind letting Wati do that.

“You're getting food only from me, and I'm not going to let you starve,” Wati stated.

“Okay, okay…” Aryo conceded. “Can I at least have a little taste of your cooking first?”

Wati smiled and grabbed a spoon. She scooped a small portion and gently shoved it in front of Aryo's mouth.

“Open up…”

Aryo sighed and pushed his mouth forward, letting the savory liquid wet his tongue. Wati watched his mouth gently twist. She itched for his answer. Her entire body twitched in excitement waiting for his response. She knew that it was going to be a positive one. Wati had cooked for Aryo countless times since they were children. Aryo had never slandered the meals she made. According to him, they tasted like the gourmet delicacies of House Lords. Yet she always looked forward to Aryo’s comments on her dish as much as her salary.

“To be honest…” Aryo said after he swallowed the brew. “I was expecting that it’s going to be somewhat unpleasant because you were experimenting with a new recipe.”

“Uh huh…” Wati affirmed.

“But, holy Almighty Three…you do belong among the top brass of the Great Houses.”

Wati gave her hands. “Thank you.” She tilted her head.

Aryo handed over his helmet. Wati also gave him three ladles. The Danker then returned to his seat. Wati poured three ladles for herself into her helmet and followed Aryo. She sat on the stool beside him. It turned out Hartono and Marno hadn’t begun yet. They were waiting for Wati and Aryo to acquire their portion, an unsurprising junior behavior. The three male Danker let Wati lead the pre-meal prayer. Wati locked her hands in front of her chest. Despite the hardships she had to endure, she was grateful to the Almighty Three that she was still alive. She thanked Them for still providing her with proper meals every day. She thanked Them for giving a person like Aryo who always gave her company. Once she was done, she formed a flower bud before her forehead with her hands. She then crossed her hands below her chin before furling her fingers and tapping both ends of her chest near the shoulders.

They all dug in, putting Wati’s blessing into their body. One day, it would not only be hot soup perfectly mixed by her hand. One day, it would be bright wisps from the Mantra of Wellspring.

A series of forts protected the road networks all across Mananggal. Each fort had wide open spaces to accommodate stays for Legions on the march. Some of these spaces were open to the public as rest areas. Regular travelers were allowed to rest there but prohibited entry to the Legion camp unless they had approval. Fort Ndelosor was situated at the heart of Nadin Strip and was the largest one in the province. It sat on top of Fiyyah Hill. It took a month of march from Nur-Fadhil on Surya Coast to reach the Fort.

Other Legionaries sat around their campfire the way Wati and her squad did. Their triangular tent was made out of Nyambek hides. Ironwood formed the tent's sturdy frame. The reeds that tied them together were specifically refined and engineered to support a solid temporary shelter. The squad across from them was brewing their dinner like they did. Some took Beanrice biscuits while discussing random topics with their comrades. There was a cheerful commotion about ten tents down the camp aisle. A Centurion was hosting a grill party with his men. Skewered Domroll and Kun Skimmer's meat hung just above the enthusiastic fire that warmed their tents. Their loud voices caught the attention of the other Legionaries. All rations were already covered by the sultanate. But the Legions might bring their share of provision, or forage from the wilderness. When someone asked them for a share, they did so playfully. Wati herself was content with her own Amur soup.

“Aryo,” Hartono called Aryo after munching the portion he scooped.

“No,” Aryo said. “No politics until I'm asleep.”

“Did the Great Houses do something to you for you to be this anti-politics?” Hartono asked.

“I don't know.” Aryo put another scoop into his mouth. “Maybe.”

“I'm sure that's not Great House Pendhopo, right?” Wati said.

Aryo shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Screw that Great House,” Hartono said. “They only care about their power and wealth.”

Wati looked at Hartono awkwardly, feeling attacked. “All the Great Houses do. You have to have power and wealth if you wish to give the best for the people.” Wati stated. “Without Great House Pendhopo, our people wouldn't have fair businesses with outsiders. There would be no traders or merchants from abroad that we could…” Wati shrugged. “You know…exploit. Also, they made half of the sultanate's revenue.”

“I mean of course you can make half of the sultanate's revenue if you prevent others from earning more.”

“I'm sorry?”

“You know how they are trying to maintain balance by diplomatic means? I'd say, they're doing it to keep others down to keep a huge chunk of everything else for themselves.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Incorrect.” Wati proudly stated. “Great House Pendhopo valued the combined efforts of all parties to generate prosperity. If they're doing something it is to safeguard the power balance between the Great Houses and ensure that they play their part. For example, they bought patches of land in Abi Prairie and granted it to the folks under Great House Pawon protection so they could work on it. They demolished one of their abandoned offices so that Great House Langgar could build a temple there. And they let Great House Dalem have a share of their Gragal Runelattice mine in Enri Shores so they could conduct more research on the mineral.”

“Okay, but why are they negotiating with Great House Thong?”

“It's not a negotiation, but rather a communication. They're bluffing so that the Wankers believe we would open talks and coexist. We don't want to due to the cruel thing they did. But it made them hesitant to advance further.”

“Fair argument,” Hartono said. “But you're a woman.”

Wati pouted. But before she could conjure an answer, there was a loud metallic clamor that made her flinch. It was Aryo. He smacked his spoon on his helmet repeatedly.

“I swear, in the name of Almighty Three, if you two keep this up, I will go to sleep.” He stated.

Hearing that, Wati shriveled. Her guilty conscience kicked when she gazed at Aryo's frown. He clearly stated that he wouldn't like it. Yet it was she who dragged the conversation. Hartono only spewed out baits and it worked. Wati refused to believe that her parents were doing deeds against the sultanate. She believed that they were as loyal and pious as the Grandmaster of Great House Pringgitan, General Santoso Ing Ngarso Lan Tulodo.

“I'm sorry.” Wati looked down to her soup in shame.

“I think I have a share in that too. My bad.” Hartono added.

“Yeah, it's your fault, Hartono.” Aryo continued. “Her parents were both House Lords of Great House Pendhopo, of course, she's offended. Think twice before saying anything next time.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Aryo sighed.

“Did you know,” Marno said something in the pause. “That Mananggal Awareness clashed again with Great House Dalem?”

“Marno,” Aryo said irritatingly. “I beg you.”

“No, no, no.” Marno continued. “I just wanted to say that adventurers of Mananggal Awareness, a week ago, discovered the lost library where allegedly Prophet Gajah Salto spent the rest of his life studying. About a hundred ancient textbooks, the prophet’s writing, and notes were also among them, written in Oud Taavi, were uncovered. Great House Dalem demanded that they hand over the rights to the library for studies.” Everyone fixed their attention toward Marno as he explained.

Aryo squinted, his eyes roaming left and right near his eyebrows.

“Yeah, politics,” Aryo said. “Please skip.”

“What's not politics to you brother?” Hartono asked.

“Shut up.”

“Okay, very well.” Marno complied. “How about this? Scholars of Dalem Arcane Institute have discovered a way to positively influence the growth of Runelattices using Wellspring magic.”

Hearing that, Wati immediately choked on her meal. She became an attention to her three friends.

“Oh, oh!” Wati's eyes were opened wide. “I'm listening.”

“They dropped a pure strengthening potion into a sample Runelattice and noticed that it got slightly heavier. Illumination-Based Decomposition Analysis then resulted in a pattern that indicated the presence of additional branches of lattice essence.”

“That's amazing!” Wati exclaimed.

“Hang on, so they can replicate Runelattice now?” Hartono asked.

“Not replicate per se,” Marno continued. “More like generating more per deposit. However, this lattice growth is unpredictable. They also successfully grew them only under surgical conditions. Not much practical application yet.”

“That still means we can give the lattices to those scholars and ask them to generate more,” Hartono commented.

“I'm sure that's as simple as it sounds.” Marno smiled awkwardly.

“Where did you read that?” Wati asked.

“The publication has been out for a month now. The title is ‘Runelattice Anomalies in the Addition of FrtStr-13 Drops under Simulated Anti-Wardhana Environment’. I read the sample when we were in Fort Ngajeni and ordered a copy.”

“Would you involve me in your study of this publication?”

“When it arrives, sure.” Marno shrugged. “Two brains are better than one.”

“Cool,” Wati said excitedly.

“I hope I understand what you two are talking about,” Aryo commented.

Hartono spoke up. “What say you if we talk about-”

“Hartono,” Aryo cut him. “Every time you talk about social issues you always pull the string on politics.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to talk about social issues.” Hartono reached into his pocket and fished an odd-looking jar the size of his palm. “I just got this new perfume that I want to show you people.”

Wati and Marno chuckled.

***

The darkness of the night was unable to conceal the group of clouds that pointed to the summit of Mount Wardhana. Wati took a microbreak for every cooking utensil rinsed to admire the view. The volcano thundered, almost as if it was demanding attention. The menacing bellow rivaled Vahsani’s two-handed war hammer when it slammed Hag-Elslag at the beginning of time.

There were rumors that something was wrong with Mount Wardhana. Scholars of Dalem Arcane Institute had monitored its activity for the past fifteen years. Its state grew ever more concerning. Some experts boldly claimed that the Dankers were about to face a cataclysmic eruption akin to what had happened after Mangkuprawan I's ascension to the throne. Earthquakes and volcanic showers devastated the whole island continent. From Surya Coast to Al-Banna, from Ky-Riz Meadows to Kanan Tusk, from Enri Shores to Nadin Strip, from Abi Prairie to The Hong Steppes and Madsen Heights, only a few Dankers escaped its wrath. Homes were buried in volcanic ash or swallowed by Mananggal. Farms were razed by fiery basalt downpours.

The scale of the catastrophe was beyond Wati. Nevertheless, she could agree that something as colossal and mighty as Mount Wardhana could invoke such destruction. The lives of Mangkuprawan I and his generation were probably arduous. But the civilization he built persisted up to this day.

A meowing caught her attention.

“Calya,” Wati called it. The Poosh was sitting beside Wati's left leg.

The creature sniffed Wati's metallic boots before rubbing her right cheek on the sharp edges of the boot. It then meowed again.

Wati put the last cooking utensil back in its place. She then grabbed a rag and dried her hands so that she could lift the Poosh into her lap.

“Where have you been?” Wati stroked her head down to her back. “Looking for food? Have you had your dinner?” Wati leaned closer to the Poosh.

Calya meowed. The Poosh purred when Wati began scratching the area where the creature's neck was. It voluntarily raised its head for that purpose.

“Who's my cute little Poosh?” Wati jokingly asked as she scratched it a little more aggressively. She also rubbed her nose to its furry head.

The Poosh suddenly leaped off Wati's lap. The latter was surprised by the sudden action. Calya stood and turned in a direction. It meowed once, its head raised toward that direction as it did.

“Calya?”

Calya turned to Wati and sat. It meowed twice before turning in that direction again. It took a moment for Wati to understand. Calya wanted Wati to follow her. The Poosh looked up at Wati and meowed again. When Wati stood up, Calya meowed and walked in that direction. It then stopped and turned around, making sure that Wati followed it.

Wati wore her helmet and finally followed Calya. She made sure to bring her shield with her. The Poosh leaped its way through the alley of silent tents. The silence was broken by snoring noises which Wati heard only when she walked near a tent. It was almost midnight. Wati treaded carefully to not incite a clamor. She wondered where the creature was leading her. She knew she had to follow her because Calya looked back periodically to make sure that Wati was keeping up.

At the camp's entrance, the sentries halted Wati, asking her intention. There had been a directive stating that all Legion personnel should remain within their tent and sleep by these hours. Of course, the sentries let the Poosh pass. Wati couldn't explain why she had to follow Calya. The Poosh asked for it. She said that to the guards but they were unconvinced. Wati then asked the sentries to give her ten minutes. That or if she wandered beyond their view. If these trespasses were made, there would be punishments waiting for her.

Calya meowed as it waited for Wati beyond the entrance. The road would lead her downhill. Luckily Calya didn't lead her that far. Near the bushes on the left side of the road, Wati saw something moving. The movement was nothing more than a gentle throbbing. There was a creature there, one she couldn’t see thanks to the darkness. That was where Calya went. She sat near the bushes and meowed at Wati.

Wati turned back and borrowed a torch from one of the sentries. The illumination revealed a winged lizard creature the size of Wati's calf–a Thulchek. Its scales were a mix of blue and brown. It had a beautiful red crest that would glow under sunlight. Its head resembled a clothespin. Calya proceeded to walk all over the creature while sniffing it. Poosh-es were omnivores, but Calya in particular was uninterested in eating the Thulchek. It could've easily done that but it didn't. What puzzled Wati was how the Thulchek was lying there in the first place. They were usually found perching on the branches of Tabuyas or the crown of Mbok Amurs. Wati moved the torch to follow Calya. She eventually put the tear on its translucent peanut wing into the spotlight.

Calya meowed as the creature whined. When the Poosh sniffed the tear, the Thulchek shrieked and yanked itself back. Calya, with its unholy reflexes, merely pulled back at a breakneck speed. It then groomed itself.

“Poor little guy…” Wati said.

She looked around her, making sure that she was overall secure. Sure enough, Calya moved away from the Thulchek. Wati watched the Poosh take up positions behind her. She chuckled at Calya's initiative. She thought it was admirable.

Wati crouched and dropped her shield. She brought the torch closer to the Thulchek’s wound. Wati took a deep breath and opened her palm. The Thulchek noticed how she was aiming for the tear on its wing and shrieked at her.

“Hush…” She said. “It's okay.”

Wati closed her eyes. She jettisoned her thoughts. The cold winds of Mananggal's nights were barred entry. Her breath was soft and gentle. Her problems were oppressed by the voiceless void that took over her mind. She connected her heart with the love of Visha. Her mouth whispered, in ancient Danker language–the Puh-Soro, a mantra that invoked Her blessings by Her permission. Wati felt a cold trickle on her right elbow. A stream was growing. Its volumetric rate resembled the refreshing springs of Madsen Heights that she and Aryo used to drink from. Her right palm glowed pale golden. Wisps of this light revolved about her hand in an orderly manner. Wati felt something pressing her head. Her muscles slowly warmed and became slightly unbearable. But she maintained the delicate blessings of Visha that flowed through her right arm.

After an evident hiss, the stream vanished. Her head relaxed and her muscles cooled down. She opened her eyes. The Thulchek squeaked, raising its left wing. The tear was no more. Its peanut-colored wing was fixed as if the tear was never there. Wati gazed at it in astonishment, an elating astonishment.

The Thulchek squeaked once more toward Wati before flapping its wings. Wati watched with joy as it disappeared into the darkness. She only hoped that no Kun Skimmer would go after it.

Something rubbed itself on Wati's boots. It was Calya. It looked up at Wati and meowed. It was telling her something but Wati didn't understand the verbal language of the creature. If only they have enough facial muscles to show expressions. Wati smiled at it and crouched again, giving Calya its well-deserved head rubs.

“Good girl…”

Calya kept raising its head as if it wanted Wati to rub harder. She did it briefly before standing up again with her shield and walking back to the camp.

“Did I pass?” Wati asked the sentries.

“Yeah, just go back to your tent.” One of them replied, yawning thereafter.

“Thank you.”

When she returned to the alleyway, she found Aryo standing outside of the tent looking around. He quickly found her. Wati quickened her pace.

“So?” He asked.

“So?” Wati playfully shrugged. She didn't hide the fact that she was indeed feeling successful.

“Where?”

“Latrine,” Wati replied in a flirtatious manner.

Aryo sighed. “No, you didn't.”

Wati flattened her lips. “No, I didn't.”

“When?”

“Not long ago.”

“What?”

“Secret.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“An hour cuddle.”

Wati gasped. Her eyes opened wide. She raised her clenched fists close to her chest and leaned closer to Aryo. “Armor of-”

“On.”

Wati pouted. “There was a wounded Thulchek outside. Calya took me there.”

“Tell me you healed it.”

Wati opened her palms and waggled her fingers. “With the spell, I learned.” She proudly said.

Aryo flattened his lips and nodded. He seemed to approve of her merit. The gesture was a mood booster for Wati.

“Two hours,” Aryo said with a hearty smile.

“Really?” Wati brightened up.

Aryo nodded.

Wati instantaneously reached for Aryo's hand and dragged him into their tent. The night was warm and fragrant for the two. And the crickets weren't the only ones chirping.