I regret many things I did a very long time ago. Not that I remember precisely what I did – someday I will – but I find feelings instead. I wish I could say sorry to everyone I wronged. I wish I could go back and change my actions. I wish I could say things that I didn’t, and not say things that I did. And sometimes, I wish I had not followed Zayno up that mountain. Sometimes I wish I lived a normal life, or maybe even lost it prematurely.

In the end though, time only flows forward. And it seems, no matter how many times something happens, I never learn. Anyways, I have much work to do… So be at peace.

And to whoever reads this… May you never waver.

----------------------------------------

Marak awoke in a dim cell. Even in his groggy state, he recognized where he was… In prison.

He caught a glimpse of something lurking in the shadows on the other side of the bars.

“Lahura!” He shouted. “God damn you slut! Did you put me in here!? Answer me, hag!”

The woman turned around, slowly. She looked down at Marak with disgust. “You’re finally awake… You don’t have to be so rude–”

Marak shot up from his bed and slammed against the iron bars, shaking the entire thing. “You… You put me in here… Now, let me out before I have you hanged!” Lahura ignored his threat. “Is it true? About the girl Leoy’Shaah?”

“I won’t answer a single phucking question of yours until you let me out, bit–”

She swung her hand from the other side, but somehow, Marak felt the impact hit him in the cheek, and it was a strong one too – strong enough to knock him back onto the hay mattress. “Quit your whining and listen to me.” Lahura said.

“Why would I trust a traitorous whore like you?” Marak said, recovering quickly. “No wonder… That tea I’ve been drinking… You’ve been putting poison in it, haven't you!?”

“You’re delusional.” Lahura insisted. “I’ve not even touched your tea.”

Marak spat out a chunk of blood that had hardened. “You’re a liar and everyone knows it.”

“So what if I’m a phucking liar?” She said, sinisterly. “No one will believe you anyways.”

“Ahhh… so you’re working with Kazezne again. Even after you depreciated Canconcilla?”

“You tainted Canconcilla on your own just fine. Kazezne doesn’t tighten your leash himself, because that would mean he would have to stoop to your level and take time out of his day to deal with you. I am not Kazezne, I hate your guts and I would like nothing more than to see you rotting on the side of the road, a product of one miscalculation, and disobedience.”

Marak laughed. “Isn’t Kazezne a bit too old for you? What is it like, I wonder? Is it wrinkly?”

Lahura swiped at him again, but Marak was quick, catching her pseudo-arm like a cat to a mouse. And like a cat, he bit her arm. His teeth bit nothing but air, but her quick retrieval of her arm indicated the pain was transferred back to her.

“A new trick I see?” Marak snickered. “Maybe Kazezne prefers it over your real hand–”

Lahura slapped him with her other hand and smiled at the dazed Marak. “Listen here, you insufferable bastard! If I killed you, Kazezne would not be pleased.”

“Of course you want to please h–”

She hit him again, but Marak, appearing tired of her little games, swatted her arm away, not even aiming to nip it again. “Jokes aside, I never thought I’d see your stupid face again. I’d like to think Kazezne keeps you here for your sexual services, but the truth is perhaps much more depressing. He didn’t order you to take me, did he?”

“You’re wrong.” Lahura responded. “He ordered me to fetch you and bring you back.”

“And why would that be?” Marak spat. “I’ve done nothing but be loyal… But you…”

“I’m not a traitor. I stopped you from declaring war on the Unbon!”

Marak laughed, “They’re all but primitives. What would they do? Throw rocks? Ride their lizards to their deaths?”

Hellenga shook her head. “Do you have any idea how big these Unbon are? They might be primitives, but they rule for miles! Our trade routes are between Unbon territories: The West Unbon, and the East Unbo…”

She noticed Marak making a talking hand gesture before staring her down past the bars.

“If your job is to retrieve me, then you shall let me out at once, and I shall take this issue to Kazezne himself!”

“I am afraid the Governor is preoccupied with meeting with the Unbon Chief.” She said, smirking at him. She grinned wider at the angered expression Marak wore.

That Governor... He wants to ally with those brutes? They know nothing of tactics. You cannot train men like that in the ways of fine warfare!

Yet that was what Kazezne intended to do. At least, that was what Marak assumed he would do; It made the most sense, after all. If Kazezne were to succeed with making an agreement – most likely one which Mountain village and its current leader would benefit from – Marak’s leverage against the pitiful Kaqu would be slain in one fail swoop. All because of this disgusting, traitorous whore!

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Marak clenched his teeth and fists in sheer anger.

Lahura leaned forward, “Aww. Looks like someone is getting angry! Are you gonna bark at me like a dog? Are you gonna bite me? Aww I bet you do~”

Marak glared at her silently, trying to imagine how he could kill her from inside the cell. She cocked her head. “Unfortunately, I couldn't let you die. And I can’t kill you now either… Not yet.”

“Kill me…” Marak seethed. “I’d like to see you try, you wench!”

“You have no idea how much stronger I’ve gotten since we’ve last seen each other!” Lahura said. “Now, shut up and lay here until I return.” She tossed a small metal object through the bars, a razor.

Marak watched it bounce strangely into the corner. He turned to look back at the sorceress, who was starting up the stone stairs.

“Just in case you can’t wait for me.” She remarked, smiling. “Just try not to make too much of a mess. Oh, and do it lengthwise, saves time.”

Kazezne prayed in the morning. He did not pray often. Walking the path of order was already enough worship. However, he felt as if Behck had left him as his lowest. He was face to face with the chief of the Unbon: A large, darker-skinned man who wielded a staff. His hand outstretched, awaiting Kazezne.

The Governor swallowed his disgust and met his hand. These men knew not of even the most basic hygiene. As a matter of fact, Kazezne would even go as far as to wonder if this was part of their culture.

“Good day, Mr. Governor.” The Chief smiled. My name is Ulukbactun, but you may call me Uluk. I am very happy you responded to our invitation.”

Kazezne put on an uncomfortable smile. He sympathised with Marak more and more by the second. “Yes. It was the least I could do. What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

“Come,” Uluk said, motioning to a large communal structure, “we shall eat and talk Mr. Kazezne.”

Kazezne entered the hut, with Uluk following suit. It was unlike the huts in the Mountains, being much larger – although it was noticeably lower in quality. It was not fashioned with lightweight wooden skeletons, nor was the roof made of a more durable material. The hut was large enough to have a round-ish table that laid in the center. Several of whom Kazezne assumed were high ranking members of the tribe were already seated around the area. They all eyed Kazezne.

“Sit.” The chief motioned towards a mound, which Kazezne realized was a hollowed log with animal hide as the seat. He sat carefully, straightening his back and surveying the rest of the room, which was well lit from the flaps on the roof. Multiple guardsmen stood by the entrance of the hut, slowly seeping in.

Uluk sat down at the back end, in the largest of the seats, which appeared to be a mound of dirt and hay, which were too, covered in animal skin. Uluk lounged in a way that would have been very disrespectful. Had this meeting taken place back in the united clans under Kwunollia, Uluk would have been jeered out. His smell alone would have driven all members aways.

“Let's discuss the contents of our meeting.” Kazezne insisted, no longer asking or being polite at this point, for he was nigh sure that the man who sat before him was the sort of man to take a word at face value, and not pay attention to the emotion conveyed. Or perhaps he did, but he did not care for the emotion, because it did not matter to him.

“Hold on, Mr. Governor,” Uluk said, waving his hand dismissively, “we’ve not eaten yet.”

“Apologies, but I do not care to eat, I care to discuss our terms, and our plans for the future I might add.”

Uluk moved his hand, as if he was trying to calm an angry dog. It was this movement that offended Kazezne beyond belief. It was such a condescending gesture, one of such reserved for a babbling woman or a man having a panicked ramble. It was unacceptable to Kazezne, and yet… He was the chief, and there was nothing Kazezne could do besides leave, and sour this relationship. If Marak had been here, he would have no doubt taken this man’s jaw off.

“Now, now,” Uluk said, “No man may think clearly on an empty stomach.”

“I’ve eaten rather recently.” Kazezne remarked. “And besides, I am not in the mood to dine at this hour, especially with issues I must tend to upon my return to Canconcilla.”

“That is nonsense, Mr. Governor!” Uluk laughed. Then, in the corner of his vision, Kazezne saw figures entering the hut. Women carrying bowls and wooden slabs with food on them.”

“Come now, eat as you wish, and then we may talk.”

Kazezne did not touch any of the food besides the bread, which he recognized was made from Canconcillan wheat. He looked around for an ingredient to put on it. There was no butter or seed oil anywhere. He grimaced, and took a bite of the plain bread.

Kazezne had about three slices of the loaf, while the rest of the men dined like they had not eaten in days. Even the chief himself cleared plate after plate, before finally finishing.

After all the plates and bowls had been retrieved, Uluk laughed and spoke to Kazezne: “Mr. Governor, I would now like to begin our discussion.” He motioned to the guards, who all exited the hut but two.

“Now,” Uluk said, “a man named Marak recently visited our village, and he was quite an interesting man. He rode by our land like a rogue! And my men nearly mistaken him for an enemy. Had they taken their bows, they would have surely killed him!”

Most of the men at the table laughed. A few more than others.

“I have to say,” the chief continued, “that although he is a madman, he is much more lively than you!” Uluk adjusted his seat. “Now, this man Marak brought forth a request to my ears. He requested we bring our religious men to your village, Canconcilla, and strengthen our god there. Is that so?”

Kazezne nodded. “Yes, It would be in our best interests to make our connection to your god stronger, considering he rules this land.”

“But that is not all, is it?” Uluk said. “What else do you want?”

“We have a god as well. His name is Behck. He is the god of rule and order, he wants to adopt your god, and perhaps they shall work together to combine their strength.”

There was an uproar. Many of the men began to chatter in a frenzy, all the while the chief himself sat in his chair motionless, attempting to process what had graced his ears.

Eventually, he came to. “Silence!” He shouted at the men at the table. He turned to Kazezne. “You propose that your god come and mix with ours?”

“No–”

Uluk suddenly laughed. Which made Kazezne put on a feeble smile. “You–! Hahaha!” He then slammed his fist down on the table, almost shaking the entire hut. He slumped to his seat.

“You are a funny little man, Mr. Governor!” Uluk chuckled. “You have a very serious complexion that not many men see through.”

Kazezne felt angered and disturbed. These men did not take anything serious. And when they did, they were brutal and merciless. What angered him more was there was some truth to Marak’s claims, these men could not be assimilated. Perhaps the religious men, perhaps… But no man born or raised in a den like this, by savages, could ever defy his own surroundings or people. Never.

“I disagree,” a voice came from behind. A woman, accompanied by two guardsmen.

Lahura! A mixture of relief and newfound worry washed over Kazene. The governor had decided to retrieve a previously disgraced sorceress, against the warnings of Kwunollia, and he was taking a liking to her by the second.

Uluk rose up. “A woman! A woman shall not speak without the permission of her master!” I apologise, Mr. Kazezne but Brash frowns on females who interrupt such important manners. “

“She lives with my permission.” Kazezne asserted. “Now, shall she have a seat?”

Uluk scrunched his face. The men at the table began to talk again in their guttural language. Uluk gestured for silence with his hand and that was what followed. “I don’t see why not.” He said, uncomfortably. “But she shall remain educated on our customs, should she ever return, she will be removed from my presence.”

Kazezne wore nothing but a small smile as Lahura pulled a seat from behind him.

“Hello, your Honor,” Lahura greeted.