Kazezne was in his study, like he always was, when he noticed an invitation in a pile of unread letters. It had been sent from one of the Unbon villages, signed by the chief of the tribe. The Governor groaned.

“Daono!” Kazezne shouted across the mostly empty room. A young man popped his head through the door. “Yes, your honor?”

Kazezne held up the letter resting his elbow on his desk. He smacked his lips. “What’s this doing on my table?”

Daono looked puzzled. “It's a letter, your honor.”

Kazezne looked down the letter in a sarcastic fashion. “Hmm… I can see that, Daono. But do you mind telling me how it got here?” Daono scratched the back of his neck. “It was delivered by Mr. Marak himself.”

“Marak?” Kazezne casually dropped the letter on the table, “Really? He came here to deliver this letter?” Kazezne only repeated himself once. And when he repeated himself, he was not happy.

“Yes.”

Kazezne grunted. “Go fetch the bastard.”

Daono looked uncomfortable now. “I am afraid I can’t. He’s off visiting the Mountain Village."

“Humph. Village… More like a town now. Reminds me, I should begin creating a name for the town now that it's grown and will soon be on a map…”

“Your honor?”

“Go send scouts and messengers for him then, Daono!”

Diono hurried out of the room, and the letter was now beginning to evoke curiosity. Kazezne tenderly unwrapped it, revealing a crude paper inside.

Greetings from our people, Mr. Governor.

A man named Marak came to our village recently. He requested we begin sending some of our own to your village, to increase its strength. This comes under the chief, and we have talk with him. He is intrigued by your proposal.

Courtesy of our honorable chief Ulganbo, he invites you and any guests you want to have our feast on the day of the celebration. He would be honored to have you come, and then perhaps we could work out whatever your interests are.

* The People of Unbon.

Kazezne groaned. It was truly astounding how these people could be perceived through their writing. Sure, the letter had undoubtedly come from the translators sent to the Unbon, otherwise, the commonspeak would have been very broken. Still, even if their literary rates were close to that of zero, their organization was a sight to behold. It did not take away from the brutes they were, but Kazezne was impressed slightly, even if he was also disgusted by them.

Generally he did not like the Unbon all that much. As a matter of fact, he was quite frankly disgusted with everything, from their politics to society. Their culture revolved mostly around killing and terrorizing people who were not aligned with them – and they did consider striking down a defenseless woman or child to be a well earned victory as well. In fact, going after those incapable of fighting back was encouraged in Unbon society. The governor had never seen such organization, yet such primitivism, and on such a scale as well. When the Kwunollians had first organized the clans over 300 years ago. And Behck, their god, had been left back in Kwunollia. Kwunollia had provided two of her god’s favorite disciples. Eleren, Yewnie, Wanu, and a very knowledgeable theologist, Quon. Mediums that had been specially trained, had fallen ill, and had not recovered until a few years ago. One had curled up into a ball, clutching his stomach, and the other one fell unconscious for several days, bedridden. And the final one had suddenly reported the certain anger and resentment, that of which through his person, before it eviscerated, never to be sensed again.

Kazezne, who had been tasked with taking over the colony, had encountered the aggressive Unbon and their god, Brash. And brash indeed they were, usually attacking encampments every week or so, and when met with another blade, not surrendering under any circumstance. Kazezne knew that things could take a very erratic turn at this point, so he paused the mission, taking careful steps to establish an anchor point in the territory, before running head-first into acquiring the colony curated by their explorers. For all he knew, these Unbon might’ve burned it to the ground just from their sheer territorialism.

He was no alien to that of exploring – and possibly conquering territory. He had come across many tribes, who although had been acquired and assimilated in the end, showed a remarkable sense of community, and understanding when it was time to surrender to the unyielding Kwunollian acquisitionists. Their depiction of Brash was not the coordinated one Kazezne had assumed to meet. Brash was said to be a god that had been born from a violent river, and Brash was not an organized god, he was a brutish one who swung a club and blade and never talked. He only yelled and called upon his subjects to charge into battle en masse, rather than taking a few hours to plan. Recently, it seemed Brash had slowly begun to take a sort of strange liking to Kazezne and his firm foothold, as well as his sense of order and hierarchy, as suggested by the plentiful rains and recent bursts of crop growth; He whoever "he" might be, had taken an apparent liking to the Kwunollians.

Kazezne was well educated, like all other officials, in the act of adoption, and incubation. When the sky became enveloped in darkness, and new rules were discovered, binding some, and liberating others, it marked the beginning of the Kwunollians. And they would stop at nothing, in order to spread their rules onto others. But Kazezne, not in over his head over asserting their rules, knew that they would not spread their power too thin. He was careful as to how much he let this deity influence his rule and his people. Why not? It would be as foolish to stretch your god for miles, and his watchful eye having to maintain all with the limited size he was, as allowing a god of the land to control them. Thus, he would allow for the mixture of their two powers.

Marak had a different way of looking at things. He did not see why the Kwunollians could not simply march in, to take what they wanted. Kazezne was more cautious with his plans to remain friendly with the tribe, in case things went wrong. But Marak had headed southern expansion, particularly, having the Unbon move further south, sandwiching them, and permitting them to leak their borders into the mountain village. Marak hated not the religion, but the people who bore it. He talked of them almost as if they did not deserve the god, that they were ungrateful, hindering his growth. Governor Kazezne did not see ill in this, as it was common for people to question their philosophies for a moment, but they would rarely abandon them.

“It is wasteful,” he had said. And Kazezne did agree; It was by now apparent to him that the young deity Brash, would indeed never reach his full potential under mere subhumans that the Unbon were. They were still half-naked hunters and gatherers for a reason, and in the future, they would undoubtedly have to be controlled and dissolved. They had not yet established a meaningful, forward-moving, productive society like the Klan of Kwunollia had in the past three centuries. Unlike his feelings towards the people of the mountain village, who were peaceful and at worst, unproductive and a bit sinful, the Unbon were purely irredeemable savages, as Kazezne had disturbingly discovered they would eat the flesh of their own people, which Kazezne found through a scout. The weak were worthless, especially those who rejected their own country lest it have yet to forsake them, but to consume another human? The Unbon made the brutes of the north suddenly appear as a docile flock, harmless and soft. Yes, Kazezne was for containing them, but moving them had been a controversial thought in Kazezne, even if Marak was already doing so despite his warnings -- and was greatly successful at first, that was until he realized the all Marak was doing was throwing an angry coyote from one chicken coop, to the other.

Speaking of the buffoon, the Unbon disliked Marak to a great extent as well, and it seemed to Kazezne he was quite a foil to their image. They saw him almost as a threat to their god. He was all that they were, but more dedicated, religious, and fit for the role of bearing the god’s crown. Kazezne did spite this, but he saw it as nothing more than an establishment of dominance. After all, he had been hand-picked by the King of Kwunollia himself, Yheurgs de Laurenk. King Laurenk had a massive selection of candidates. Well mannered, aggressive, socially smart, logically smart, strategists and high ranking members of the clergy alike. But Kazezne could not bring himself to imagine why the King would choose Marak, of all the choices that he had, but Kazezne had a few theories. Marak could have been unwanted. Yes, the king was simply getting rid of Marak, which was a smart move, and one that Kazezne would have appreciated greatly… That was if he weren’t gone along with Marak.

But Marak had been obedient. Even if he often pushed for things that he personally desired from his position, he never really pushed that hard. Kazezne would see him push through and make little changes, trying not to disturb Kazezne. He was doing a terrible job at it. Kazezne would undo whatever little things that Marak would say and do.

Upon making a successful agreement with the Unbon – despite Marak’s tedious advancement, slowly rewriting borders by the week – Kazezne had sent for Eleren, Wanu, Yewnie, and Quon.

He was shocked at what he found. Upon meeting Yewnie, he had discovered the village to have been in a depressing state. Sickness and violent tendencies from the northwest had cornered the poor village, and there were no surviving members of the original initiative except Yewnie, and a man named Kaqu, who claimed to be the son of Quon. It hadn’t taken a scholar to figure out what had happened: Some evil entity had inflicted its malevolence upon the people of the Mountain village, leaving the people mentally scarred and amnestic, and not seeming to have a clear memory of the past few decades.

When he was but a young boy, during the times in which people were slow to catch on to exactly what fantastic changes were graced upon the world – changes that the most radical, aggressive, and ambitious men, triumph above order – Kazezne had seen the destruction of these towns firsthand. The towns had rejected hosting a deity to protect them or aid them other than themselves… That had been a fateful mistake; A small army led by a madman wielding this new ‘magic’, took the town in less than a day. Kazezne had proudly seen the town be taken back decades later – albeit, ravaged, and stripped of all its dignity – It proudly bore the Kwunollian flags without hesitation. It would have not been too far-fetched to assume the town had a god, but it had forsaken them some time ago, and they had never recovered since. The Unbon had taken advantage of this and had consistently threatened the town since the death of its chief, chief Quon himself.

Kazezne was struck with intrigue. This town should have cheered and sang at the sound sight of the Kwunollians, but they did not. Instead, they eyed Kazezne and Marak with fear and distrust. He had first blamed Marak for this image created of the Kwunollians. If the people were to resist, it could end with bloodshed and destruction. That would be good for neither party. But the Governor soon realized that Marak was only partially– If at all, to blame for the perception these people had of Kwunollia. No…

With every year passing, and now in the ninth of their effort, Kazezne knew something was not summing. How had they survived this long with no god? The Governor suspected that perhaps there was a god who had watched over this town– not Brash, but one that had soiled this land before them.

Yes! And Kazezne questioned no one about this, as they were so insignificant as individuals that he would not even consider their take on the matter. He knew that there was a god that had come and gone, and he knew that Yewnie, Eleren, and Quon were lying to him, but he did not know why. And now, there are rumors; A girl in a rough cape preaching for these villagers to stand against the vicious tribes. Kazezne was not Marak, who would use anything as a reason to seize full control of the colony, but rather he was intrigued to see where this might lead, and who this woman was to these people…

image [https://i.postimg.cc/W1kPGpzk/kld-ksad-lk-lsdk-removebg-preview.png]

Spring was nearing its end, and the suns became more pronounced and vivid. Sharp light cut by the razor that was the mountain’s peak, would plaster areas in shadow, even dwarfing the governing building that had tried to intimidate the people. Summer bolstered their vigor. The naked eye would not notice that the sky was slightly darker than in recent years. Leoy’Shaah had made another appearance that morning, making it clear what she was setting out to do, and what these people were to expect. The Unbon were to be driven away, as it seemed the Kwunollians would do very little to protect the people under them.

“You shall not hesitate to strike them down, if you so wish to have security on your own land!” She had said, and the people who gathered before her cheered – although she could see the reluctance in their eyes. She had returned to Yewnie's compound, lamenting over the lack of progress made in convincing people to ally.

“Kaqu was right! The people have no trust in me!" She exclaimed. Hayden did nothing to console Leoy’Shaah, as per usual, “Trust isn’t earned in a day Leo– I mean, Alexandra.”

“But it has not been merely a day, it has been many weeks– a month! They still doubt me, and I cannot blame them for that..."

“Your speech was very enjoyable.” Lencan had entered the room,“I’ll daresay you’ve got me, if weren't already here.”

“Thank you, Lencan.” Yewnie remarked, seeming to be deeply concentrated on some papers on her desk, “Hayden and Lencan are indeed right. This shall take time, and trust that I will help you every step; Do you not think that we have not prepared for this? Worry not, Miss Alexandra, this be my duty in fact: Conversion."

Leoy'Shaah cracked a smile, on the side of her face opposite to Yewnie, of course. The woman's warm voice contrasted with Leoy'Shaah's memory of her growing up. Over the next few weeks, she had gotten to know most of the people at the compound. Most of them were workers, servants, and others in the field. But there were many soldiers and guards. Most of whom were intrigued by Leoy’Shaah, and her speeches.

Leoy’Shaah found now that she held little resentment against Yewnie, although she would never forgive her for what she did to her mother, Wanu. Hayden was a tortoise; not opening his shell to her very easily, and Nisha was braver than she had been before, having a determined expression when she spoke to Yewnie or Hayden. But Nisha now submitted to her with every opportunity given. This stirred Leoy’Shaah. Was this friendship? Zayno had no other friends besides Zayno… So she supposed it was a certain type of friendship. She liked this friendship then.

Then there was Wylent. Leoy’Shaah would think a boy his age would have something better to do then to trouble himself with things like this. Wherever Leoy’Shaah was, Wylent was bound to be there. He carried a broadsword around with him everywhere as well. No one ever saw him use it. But a diligent look on his eyes suggested that he was more than capable of wielding it. Wylent was yet another type of friendship, she assumed. Even though they rarely talked, they were together, and therefore, they were friends.

Sohee was not around very often. Though she would come every now and then to sit and listen to their plans, passing around hot cups of tea to ease the tension in the air. There were few times she would enter the conversation, though those times were rare, as she usually had almost no clue as to what they were talking about. Today, Yewnie was showing Leoy’Shaah many of the intricacies that ran Mountain Town.

“Eleren and Wanu created this many years ago. It held all of our beliefs and rules. Now only the rules remain, and modified at that.” Yewnie was showing scrolls to Leoy’Shaah.

“Our beliefs… You say that before this god… Manipu… There were others. What was our allegiance before?”

Yewnie sighed. “There were many beliefs back then. People would pray, but these gods would rarely answer. Quon had thought the black sky had something to do with it… But, the Kwunollians took everything from Quon's a few days ago.”

Leoy’Shaah looked exasperated. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“I’m really sorry about that, but they were under Kaqu’s protection. I’m sure he's disputing that right now as we speak.”

“I’ve heard that there is an ancient god who serves everyone, regardless if they pray or not.” Leoy’Shaah said, “Is there a god like that?” Leoy’Shaah asked.

"Yes, there is." Yewnie remarked, “At least… According to different opinions. Many people have written about this strange god, one who never requires the prayers of his subjects… They say he has never shown his face, but they know that all this has to be of someone, or something’s design, and as a matter of fact, according to some previous entries from other Kwunollians, villages and tribes who did not take one of the many gods, took the ancient one. They needed not to pray, only to keep him in their minds and hearts. But that has begun to change, and villages need a protector…” Yewnie poked Leoy’Shaah in her chest, “That is why we need you. You see, everyone is afraid of the Unbon, but I am more afraid of the Kwunollians, Leoy’Shaah. Their organization is an affront to the human mind and spirit. All of them are broken individuals, Leoy’Shaah. They want everything to be soft and familiar, and they have no problem crushing a stone to powder.”

“Kaqu…”

“Kaqu is afraid of the unknown, Alexandra. I’ve told him all I could about Kwunollia, but he will never see what I have seen. And he will only understand my fear if he sees the destruction for himself, which I cannot allow to happen.”

Leoy’Shaah nodded. “I understand. But may I ask one more question?”

Yewnie looked intrigued, “What would that be?”

Leoy’Shaah looked down. “Do you believe in me?”

Yewnie chuckled. “I certainly do.”

image [https://i.postimg.cc/W1kPGpzk/kld-ksad-lk-lsdk-removebg-preview.png]

Kaqu was alerted to Marak’s presence at the gate around noon, he scrambled his best men to meet him where at the town's gate.

“Sir, what do we do?” A guard asked.

“Open the damned thing.” Kaqu spat back. Kaqu was very different in appearance when he donned his armor, even if he was the same person and talked the same way. The armor fit him very well, and therefore he was respected more wearing the helmet.

The gate came unbarred and Marak, along with three other riders, trotted in. Kaqu bit his lip. Kwunollian armor was superior in design, offering more movement than mountain village’s armor. “Good afternoon, Kaqu.” Marak said.

Kaqu, upon seeing Marak, held back a small smile. The captain suspected that Marak was suffering from some sort of sickness. And it seemed each time Kaqu saw him, he looked worse than before. “You too.” Kaqu replied. What are you doing here?”

Marak dismounted his steed, patting it on its neck before coming to meet Kaqu. Kaqu felt his spite return with the very shallow handshake that followed. “Checking on certain issues regarding your people’s faith. Not many people have been accepting of Behck, which…” Marak shrugged, suggesting that he personally didn’t care all that much, “...is not all that strange, considering we’ve only now introduced ourselves.”

That was nine years ago. Thought Kaqu. The people hate you. You’ve forced us to do your bidding. Build your settlements, feed your men, all while doing nothing to protect us, you insufferable–

“I daresay, this town has certainly gone up in spirits… Hopefully not literally, might I add.” Marak said, cheerfully. Kaqu grinded his teeth, but did not smile, or Marak would see his opposite.

“Have the Unbon been a problem lately?” Marak asked, “We can always assign more guards to the outer doors. They always remain in ruin, and your builders are always late to schedule. That was part of our agreement, Kaqu.”

Kaqu was ashamed to admit the only thing he prioritized internally over keeping the Unbon out, was keeping Marak out. At this point, Kaqu knew the Unbon did not pose an existential threat. They would attack when people were the most vulnerable, as well as use their fastest, not their strongest. They would pillage, rape, and kill, but they did not threaten the structure of the town, nor its sovereignty. The Unbon would rather burn the town to the ground than usurp it. He knew that Marak knew this as well, although Marak never directly made the plausible claim that Unbon did pose an existential threat, he certainly suggested it by offering more military reinforcements. Kaqu would laugh, he really would, if his throat was not congested with rage and regret. But as wicked as his father was for enslaving the minds of his own people, he was a cunning man. More so than, Kaqu realized, as he began to discover more and more pieces of information on Quon. He knew the mountains were not only a place to hide a settlement from aggressive people like the Unbon, but to provide a natural deterrent to any hostiles who should find them and decide to attack.

Kaqu did his best to hide his anger, but unfortunately it was very difficult to do so. Yet another curse attributed to his father.

They entered the compound. Marak’s face twitched, almost into a smile. Kaqu saw this and said nothing. Marak was a strange and twisted man, there was no disputing that, at least to Kaqu.

“I see the construction is on schedule.” Marak observed. “I must insist that the path at the gate is becoming a problem. Stone… Comes from local, but timber and clay cannot be found on the plaque

Kaqu bit his lip.

“We would like to open new routes to the village,” Marak said, still trying to hold back a grin. “With your permission, of course.”

“No.” Kaqu answered simply. He motioned to the inside of the building.

The central headquarters was impressive, even compared to Kaqu’s bunker and Yewnie’s Manor. The main room was largely empty, with only rows of seats. Tapestries hung on every wall, and the floor was painted a sleek brown-black. Kaqu refused to display his awe in the presence of the man he hated most, but he knew Marak could tell.

“I’m surprised it's complete.” Marak said. “How did you get the materials for this?”

Kaqu smiled at that. Kaqu inherited good as well as bad from Quon. Marak was none the wiser to Kaqu’s trickery; Kaqu would take a small amount of material– Just enough that builders would not notice – and hide it in a secure location, with the help of a few subjects who were still loyal to him. He had more than enough to finish the building. Marak appeared to have not considered it to be a possibility.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Marak sighed. “Your father and Eleren were truly visionaries… Now…” He turned to Kaqu, with a cold look in his eyes.

“Tell me about Leoy’Shaah, Kaqu.”

image [https://i.postimg.cc/W1kPGpzk/kld-ksad-lk-lsdk-removebg-preview.png]

Lencan blocked Leoy’Shaah’s attack easily. “You’re swinging like a madman,” Lencan chuckled, “Coordinate your attack, or you lose.” He swung again, his blade nicking her wrist. “It seems you have more control over your mortality now.”

Leoy’Shaah smiled at this, but she struggled to hit Lencan. He was much faster and stronger than he looked. He also wore heavy armor, whereas Leoy’Shaah wore none. This made her faster, but still not as fast as Lencan.

Leoy’Shaah balanced the sword yet again, it was cold and heavy, and it was a dull sword as well, but a blade nonetheless. Leoy’Shaah charged at Lencan, making sure to coordinate his attack like he had suggested. Lencan parried with his spear.

Leoy’Shaah drew away. “This is… Not working, Lencan.”

Lencan nodded, “I understand, Alexandra.” She turned away, “Why do you call me that? You can just call me Leoy’Shaah.”

“Evoking a prophets last name is rude.” Lencan said. “Yewnie told me that, as well as everyone else.”

“So you’re afraid of me?” Leoy’Shaah asked.

“Not in the slightest.” Lencan said, smirking. He counterattacked another horizontal slash from Leoy’Shaah, hitting her with the flat end of his blade.

“Oww!”

Leoy’Shaah fell to the ground, clutching her cheek. When she pulled her hand away, it was covered in blood.

Lencan opened his mouth, shocked.

“A-Alexandra!”

She rolled onto her back, looking down in peril. She shared her shock and fear with Lencan, who drove his spear into the ground and rushed to her aid. “Do you need help? I can carry–”

Leoy’Shaah suddenly rolled away from Lencan, grabbing her sword and pointing it at him.

“I win.” She said, smirking at him.

Lencan sighed. “I suppose…” He turned to Yewnie, who was standing at the balcony. She turned to Lencan, then to look at Leoy’Shaah, who pointed her sword at Lencan’s face with an embarrassingly triumphant look on her face. The priestess shook her head and went back inside the building.

Lencan grabbed his spear, looking mildly, annoyed now. “Leoy’Shaah…”

“Yes, I know, I know. That was not a real fight and in a real one, you would have killed me.” She said this with more venom than she realized.

Lencan pulled out his spear. “Look at you. Your cheek is fine now.”

She blushed.

“It's not about the fight… It's not even about you…” Lencan said, trailing off.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean your immortality… It is truly something we’ve all seen with our own eyes now. And there is no disputing your power. But there is a reason Kaqu, Yewnie, and Hayden are skeptical and doubtful, and it is not because they think you cannot defend yourself. It is leadership. It doesn't matter if you cannot be killed. A leader is supposed to protect their subjects and followers, not just themselves. And besides, you can be thrown in jail, or worse–”

“Yes, yes. I am aware.” Leoy’Shaah said. “I wish for you to teach me again later.”

“Are you not tired?” Lencan asked.

“Are you?” Leoy’Shaah asked.

Lencan and Leoy’Shaah met Yewnie in her study. “Good afternoon, Lencan, Miss Alexandra.” Lencan nodded, “I trained her in the art of sword fighting, today. She had improved greatly since we’ve started.” Yewnie rose from her desk. “May I talk with you in private, Miss Alexandra?” Leoy’Shaah felt a tinge of intrigue. “Yes, Yewnie.”

“I shall see myself out.” Said Lencan, exiting the room. After he had gone, Yewnie moved to the door and turned to Leoy’Shaah. “Leoy’Shaah, come with me.”

Leoy’Shaah and Yewnie walked down the long halls and out to the courtyard, donning cloaks, of course. Leoy’Shaah thought that Yewnie would show her another section of the building, but she had been wrong; Yewnie led her outside the compound, which only fueled her curiosity further. “Where are we going?” Leoy’Shaah asked. “What, are you tired already?” Yewnie asked, with a smile on her face. Leoy’Shaah looked at her, the scarred face of the priestess still reminded her of the day her mother had been murdered. She turned away, hiding this feeling. “We’re almost there.” Yewnie assured. What where was, Leoy’Shaah still had not a clue. Eventually, far away from the village, they arrived upon a hill. Leoy’Shaah saw the entire village, and beyond it, with smoke coming out of new chimneys and campfires. Leoy’Shaah turned to Yewnie, “What is it that you wanted me to see?” Yewnie smiled, motioning to a cluster of shrubs near a piece of stone. Leoy’Shaah looked closer, brushing away leaves and stalks.

It was not just a mere stone, it was a gravestone. And etched on the headstone was a four-letter name:

Wanu

Leoy’Shaah, overcome with hopeless frustration and despair, whirled around and slapped Yewnie across the face. The old woman tumbled to the ground. There was no Lencan or Hayden to stop her this time. Yewnie was at the mercy of Leoy’Shaah.

“What is the matter with you!?” Leoy’Shaah demanded, choking on her tears kept at bay. “Do you think if you keep apologizing, that you can be forgiven!?” Leoy’Shaah motioned to the grave. “She’s probably not even in there, is she!?” Leoy’Shaah shook her head at the pathetic Yewnie. The lengths that she would go… Just to say she was sorry was a knife in both of their hearts. “I saw her body turn to ash!” Screamed Leoy’Shaah, “I saw her body being taken and I never saw it again, Yewnie! Y-y-you… You took her and dumped her into the forest, or fed her to the dogs, didn’t you?”

Yewnie shook with immense sadness. “I-I-I-I’m sorry Leoy’Shaah… I’m sorry…”

“Yes! I understand now that you’re sorry!”

“N-N-No…” Yewnie weeped, wiping tears from her eyes and rising. “What I did to you was what was done to me as well. You think that I was Manipulated by Quon… But the truth is I willingly followed him. And… I ended up doing the thing that made me join him in the first place.”

Leoy’Shaah was confused. “I…”

“When I was young, like you were… My mother was accused of being a witch. And in Kwunollia, if a woman was accused of being a witch, she would be burnt. That is precisely what happened to me. I watched her die… Just like you… And then I did it again…”

Leoy’Shaah still felt anger at Yewnie. She had gone through a rather nihilistic phase while locked up. One in which she believed that every person, even Zayno, had lied to her. And she was nothing but another plaything. She often wondered if Zayno was even who he claimed, or if he was lying and playing with her mind. She doubted Yewnie as the words came from her mouth. Only a fool would believe it if there were no way to prove it.

Then an idea popped into her mind.

“Offer me a prayer then,” Leoy’Shaah said.

Yewnie wiped away her tears and looked confused

“Pray to me.” Leoy’Shaah said. “Say your sorry, and pledge your allegiance.”

“I-I-I’m sorry… Yewnie said, sounding pained and regretful, although Leoy’Shaah knew any person could fabricate such an authentic-sounding apology, she had no doubt that Yewnie was sorry. And this poor old woman had nothing left to offer Leoy’Shaah. Nothing except her wisdom. “Please forgive me Leoy’Shaah. Even if not me, forgive our people. Forgive them now having the village nearly in the palm of your hand. Please, guide them into a forgiving future.”

Leoy’Shaah sighed. How selfish of me. I don’t even want people to pray to me, I just want them to trust me.

But there was no going back now. As the sorrow faded from Yewnie’s eye’s. She could see exactly what laid behind them. A woman now devoted to serving her. And now that Leoy’Shaah knew this, she knew that it would only be a matter of time before she saw this look in every man, woman and child in the town of mountain village.

God help me. God guide her. God rest Wanu’s soul.

image [https://i.postimg.cc/W1kPGpzk/kld-ksad-lk-lsdk-removebg-preview.png]

The color was drained from Kaqu’s face instantaneously, so much so, he almost looked as pale as Marak.

“Oh please. News travels fast.” Marak laughed coldly. He turned to Kaqu. “Don't worry, that old bastard Kazezne knows not what I know. And I’ve taken great care to fill his lap with nigh endless tasks, all the while I roam free to do as please.”

“Now… Don’t lie to me, Kaqu. I know you plot against me, may I ask why?”

Finally Kaqu could speak his mind, and perhaps give Marak a piece of it “You are a very funny man, Marak. These people hate you, and they hate your policies. You do nothing to protect us from the Unbon, and only wish to fill our town with as much of your plague as possible! You want to pave new roads!? Over my dead corpse hanging! As long as I live, Marak, I will do everything I can to make your job as miserable as possible! And yes, I do hear of a Leoy’Shaah.”

Marak sighed. “You take me for a fool, Kaqu. You no doubt have to have your father’s sharp mind, even if it dulled as he grew old. But I am not far behind your genius.” Marak approached until he was only a few feet away from Kaqu, who looked to his left and right to see if there were any other guards.

There were none.

Marak leaned forward. In the darkness, his face looked sickening, and just a few strokes from the coffin, but his eyes, filled with motivation and aspiration – of what goals Kaqu knew not – and his teeth, sharp like that of a canine, one only held back by his master – again, one that Kaqu could not name – told a different story. It was almost as if the skin on his muscles and bones was the only thing keeping him from becoming an animal.

“I know what you, Kaqu. I know that you and your father are the same in many ways, one of which is that you doubt everyone! Everyone will betray me! I shall lock myself up and starve!” Marak laughed.

One swing of my blade, and you shall mock me no more. But Kaqu knew it would be an act of war. And he did not even know which would be worse. Letting Mountain Village be at the mercy of a man like this, one obviously mentally suffering from whatever disease afflicted him, or murdering him with his own sword, or putting this rabid animal down once and for all, and risking war– no, a massacre.

When Marak was done laughing, he coughed blood onto the floor, which he wiped off his mouth.

“Now, I know you harbor stone, wood, and intelligence. Your father’s work is not all with me or Kazezne. You harbor it as well. Do you know what that means, Kaqu? If I were to go to that bastard governor right now, and present it to him, you would no doubt be removed from ruling this town!”

Kaqu had to ask: “Why don’t you just do it then?”

Marak laughed again. “You don’t understand! Kazezne wants no conflict, he just wants to return to his home. I think he plans to send me back as well! But you…! You wouldn’t go down without a fight, would you?”

“You’re damn right about that.” Kaqu said, gritting his teeth. “They way you speak of the governor. Correct me if I am mistaken, but I am under the impression he is the kind of man who would not give less of a damn if he saw your head on a pike!”

“You’re damn right about that!” Marak mocked again. There was blood seeping out of his lips, and Marak was too giddy to notice. “It hurts, you know! It hurts for a wolf to bite at his chains all day!”

“You’re more like a mutt who’s blind and sick!” Kaqu said. “You’re the one responsible for those Unbon attacks, aren't you? Don’t think I can’t read you like a poster Marak! I’d even go so far as to think Kazezne would want me to stay, and for you to not touch this soil!”

“You’re the sharpest blade around!” Marak snarled. “Twenty-three Unbon, was it? A whole squad?” Marak snorted, blood dripping from his nose as well.

Kaqu glared at Marak.

“Hehehe… Most of your men bow to Kwunollia, even if they don’t realize it. You’re nigh alone now, yet you still stand… An ignorant piece of shit like your bastard father!” Marak spat out another glob of blood.

“You’ve been a thorn in my boot every single day. You are undoubtedly a coward. But you refuse to stand down. You are afraid of war, Kaqu, but not afraid of conflict. I see that now. But you are blind. You are blind to the fact that order is not what I care for, I never did. And the Unbon are amazing in this manner. They take what they want and they destroy everything in their path to get it, even if in the end they are subhumans. Don’t you understand? Kazezne came here expecting Quon to have this town brought to its knees, but I knew that Quon would do anything to prevent that, even if it meant scuttling everything he built, all of the men he trained and the women he impregnated, he would burn it all to the ground if he had the chance– And that is what you would like to do as well, wouldn’t you!?”

“Why are you here then?” Kaqu demanded. “Why do you ask for a woman’s name?”

“Because they say she is all but immortal!” He laughed. “Kazezne thought her to be a witch, but I think she is much stronger than that! I think she schemes like I! I think she will stand against me, and you sit back and do nothing… because you are afraid!”

“I think she wields a god’s fist on the edge of her blade and tongue!” Marak exclaimed, madly. “What would Kazezne do if he knew? He would finally unchain me and let me have what should have been mine a long time ago!”

“And the very best part… You’re too much of a coward to do anything good! You can kill your subjects with ease, but then someone else threatens to take them away… Hahaha! …you are afraid! Too afraid to tell Kazezne the village will never be his. Too afraid to speak out! Too afraid to strike me down!” Marak gasped, “I will see you buried, Kaqu! I will bury you next to your father, and the rest of your family–!” Then Marak collapsed, lying motionless on the ground.

Kaqu stood there breathing heavily, unsure of his next actions. He drew his knife, his arm shaking. One good cut– No! Maybe I should leave him…

But Kaqu could not take Marak’s life. He couldn’t even let him lose it all on his own. And in the end, he rushed out to tell the guards what had happened, and they rushed the overseer out on a cloth and left in a hurry.

In the end, Leoy’Shaah was right all along: he was indeed a coward.