Tala stood by with a mix of horror and resignation as the repercussions of her choice were realized.

She was sitting on her throne within her sanctum, unconsciously trying to regain a feeling of control as she watched the goings on with her three-fold sight and general perception of the activity within Kit.

More than two hundred people were in the midst of the process of moving into Irondale, consisting of both individuals and families.

She was confused as to why they would want to live there, and at the same time, she completely understood.

In fact, she had really expected this, which is why she’d had Irondale built to begin with… but she still didn’t get it…

Sure, it was safe within Kit, so long as Tala could be trusted, and so long as she didn’t die.

All things considered, it was likely less dangerous than Alefast would be over the next decades as it fully waned.

They also had the teleportation emergency exit set up. So in the event of disaster anyone living within Kit could flee regardless of what happened to Tala.

But even the question of safety wasn’t as important when compared to the second facet of all of this.

Tala had agreed to induct any gateless into magic, once Adrill, Brandon, and Kedva all concurred that the individual had learned enough—and were of a character—to be safe and trusted with magic.

That was the overarching ‘maybe’ that likely helped make up some people’s minds.

Additionally, Tala quickly learned that despite how high Master Simon and Adrill had set the rent on buildings and land within and around Irondale, it seemed that there were still substantial profits to be made by farmers and mundane crafters of various kinds.

There was even a merchant who had contracted a large section of land for warehouses.

For that particular case, Tala was obligated to let him know when she planned on going to other cities, and give him at least a couple of hours in any given city that she passed through, but honestly, that wasn’t very burdensome.

Alat would keep the man and his family apprised of Tala’s travel plans, when there were any, and so he likely stood to gain quite a bit by using her as a less dangerous caravan.

It wasn’t enough to inspire Tala to make runs on her own, nor to make trips that she wouldn’t have otherwise made, but it was something that would be profitable for the merchant… apparently.

I’m glad that I don’t have to deal with it.

All told, Tala was only required to have Kit open for entry and exit for a few hours a day, so long as it was made clear when that would be, emergencies excepted.

A fun new feature was the large, cut-stone arch that had been built on an otherwise dead end road out of Irondale’s town square—even if calling it a town square felt a bit pretentious to Tala at the moment.

The arch wasn’t necessary, but it did give a defined place for Tala to generally put the gateway into and out of Kit.

It allowed the town to plan routes for efficiently moving through the area as quickly as needed.

She’d also had to change the exterior location, as having it on the wall in the alley beside Artia and Adrill’s shop had become infeasible, as funny as it was to consider the idea of having hundreds of people having to duck in and out of an alley.

Master Grediv had worked with her and one of the city planners, and together, they’d chosen a blank wall near a somewhat major crossroads.

They’d also put up a sign that made it explicitly clear that anyone entering the gateway—when it was there—was putting themselves entirely under Tala’s authority in every way, and thus people should only enter with that understanding.

They’d still had a few people come in and try to simply claim buildings or land, but that had only lasted about half an hour.

Thankfully no one had been hurt or even had too severe of altercations over the issue. Instead, a message had been sent Tala’s way.

Even then, it had still taken that long for Tala to throw them out because she’d been on the other side of the city.

Aside from those few bad actors, people were mostly curious, coming in and wandering around, even doing the equivalent of nature walks through Irondale and the burgeoning surroundings.

Tala was grateful that they’d gotten the artificial sun installed on that side of the expanded space, so it wasn’t just illusory light, but instead real light, providing warmth and the ability for plants to grow within the expanded space.

It also freed up energy as Kit didn’t have to constantly create, enforce, and alter the illusion in real time.

Tala was keeping Irondale as a lower magic zone to keep from rebirthing people in power on accident, and that helped her with her average power issue, even if she was working to correct it as quickly as she could.

Outside of Kit, fall was in full swing, and there was a nice chilly bite to the air.

Tala, obviously, didn’t need to change what she wore because of the weather, but the regular citizenry around Alefast were walking about with more or heavier layers, giving a cozy sense to the city as a whole.

* * *

Fall progressed and the first snows came and melted away.

Snow came again and stuck, and just more than one month of having folk within Irondale came and went without great incident.

Tala and Rane were walking along the wall around Alefast during one of her afternoon shifts, just talking and enjoying each other’s company.

Terry was curled up on her shoulder, contentedly sleeping as she and Rane chatted.

It had been a relatively uneventful afternoon, even though the number of magical attacks had been continuing to increase as a whole.

That day was not to be an exception.

Tala’s three-fold sight picked up the movement a moment before a large pack of wolves exited the forest nearest the wall, seeming almost to have faded out from the trees themselves. Though, now that she was specifically looking, Tala could see a large number of them further back still among the trees.

The largest of the lupines put caravan wagons to shame with its sleek size, standing easily twenty feet from paw to front shoulder.

The smallest was still nearly ten times the mass of a normal wolf or dog, approaching horse-sized.

A collective silence fell over the walls as the nearby guards took in the sudden appearance of nearly two hundred wolves.

Terry lifted his head, his feathers raising slightly as his eyes widened in evident surprise.

Tala looked to Rane in confusion.

It had been he who had told her that the wolves generally left humanity alone, at least the more powerful wolves did.

The largest wolf out there was restraining her aura, but it was still obviously a deep indigo to Tala’s magesight.

It made a lovely counterpoint to the wolf’s otherwise snow-white pelt.

A voice rolled over the city’s wall, somehow easy to understand, while still obviously coming from an inhuman source, “Anatalis sends his regards, humans.”

There was a moment of stunned rigidity, citizens on the streets behind the wall seemed to sense something was going on, because they cleared out with obvious speed.

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Barely a single moment passed before Master Grediv and several other Paragons and Refined appeared along the walls.

“Ahh, good, the master of the city has arrived.”

“We hold no ill will toward you Anatalins. Why have you come to our city?” The man was standing rigid, a sapphire staff held low in his hand to be below the crenellations—and therefore out of view—while still being ready for quick use.

“No ill will? Is that all we are to you? Simply those you don’t wish ill upon?” The rolling laugh of the lead wolf was like the crumbling of a mountain. Tala’s unit-mates had come out of the guard room and stood atop a nearby tower, looking down at the visitors.

She could see visible stress in Master Grediv, even if it was likely only because she knew him so well. Still, his voice was calm as he responded. “I meant no offense.”

The wolf growled at that. “My Alpha may have been mistaken if you grovel so easily, human. We come to test the fur and fang of humanity’s rising generation. Anatalis—in the wisdom of the many—believes that you might be ready for closer partnership with the Pack.”

Master Grediv leaned forward, placing his free hand upon the walltop, clearly surprised by the revelation, and cautiously interested. “What do you propose?”

“As he stalked through the southeastern forests, Anatalis slew uncounted Leshkin who’d strayed where they were not wanted, and yet there were fewer than he had expected, fewer than he was used to finding along that border.”

Tala felt a shiver run up her spine and then back down. Terry gave a soft trill, headbutting her cheek.

“He smelled the scent of a young one, one with less than a century of life to her name, yet one drenched in battle and power. This has given him hope for your pups. He sent me that your young may be tested against his sireling, one of the Pack who has yet to reach his fiftieth year.”

A russet furred wolf—just about the size of a large horse—padded forward from among the trees to stand beside the white-furred titan.

His fur was crisscrossed with scars. It should have given him a mangy appearance, but instead of lacking hair, the scars grew fur of a silver-white, and that gave him a more mottled, textured appearance than was usual.

The wolf’s aura was a slightly green yellow, just barely more advanced than Tala’s own.

Rane leaned over to give Tala a bit of information. “When one of the Pack dies, they are reborn without scar or blemish. For him to be so scarred speaks of intense battles, survived.”

Tala smiled weakly, nodding her thanks. She was still trying to process that a beast-god had caught her scent and responded like this.

The wolf spoke again. “Any of the rank of Refined or greater—as you measure advancement—who is younger than a century is invited to meet the sireling in battle, soul against soul.”

Again, Rane provided an explanation. “They fight only with things that are soulbound. No other equipment, not even inscriptions will be allowed. Humanity has settled disputes with the Anatalins in such a manner in the past. We have only ever won when those such as Master Xeel were allowed to participate.”

Master Grediv nodded his understanding. “You honor us with such an offer, but there are few who have ever achieved such a feat.”

“That is why we have come to this city as it wanes. Your strongest gather for such occurrences, is that not correct?”

“It is, and they do.”

“Good. Then, do any fit the criteria within your walls? Or should we venture elsewhere.” Tala saw the wolf’s head turn slightly, her eyes looking straight at Tala.

She knows.

Master Grediv nodded. “There are two here who meet the requirements, but one is not a fighter.”

Two?

-There’s a Constructionist who is ninety three years old. He just finished Refining two years ago.-

Huh… I didn’t know that.

Rane’s fists were clenched beside her, and she heard his knuckles pop with the force of the contraction, his forearms bunching with muscle so much that they were quivering.

He would have been one, too, and he knows it. He also knows that he still could, if only he could make that choice.

Terry was regarding the large man beside them but didn’t otherwise react.

Rane also seemed to be working his jaw, water evident in his eyes, though no tears fell.

Tala placed her hand on his shoulder, and he somehow tensed even further before relaxing a bit.

He spoke very, very quietly, clearly trusting Tala’s incredibly enhanced sense to hear him, “I made my choice. This is but one more consequence. I will endure.”

The wolf rumbled, several of the others howling in a way that somehow didn’t interfere with their leader’s voice. “Then the one will do.”

Tala somehow detected something along with the words. It was a… disdain? Dislike for one who would beg off of fighting.

After all, what was power for if not to defend the Pack and its territory?

If power did not provide for the Pack, it was useless. Worse than useless, it drew one away from the Pack, weakening that which was left behind.

Even so, there was—threaded through—a bit of resignation as the leader of the wolves seemed to also concede that humans used things that were created, so one could provide in that way and still hold power in a good way, but she clearly didn’t like it.

Master Grediv turned toward Tala, his eyes briefly flicking toward Rane.

Rane jerked back at even the quick glance, and Tala closed her eyes in empathetic pain.

Master Grediv’s voice was soft but firm as he asked, “Mistress Tala?”

Tala squeezed Rane’s shoulder, opened her eyes and hopped up on the crenelations of the wall. “I will fight him, if that is what is best for humanity.”

The wolf leader laughed once again. “Anatalis will be gratified that I found the young human who intrigued him, and you have advanced since your rampage as well. Truly, you are a wolf at heart.”

Terry had stood up on her shoulder, talons secured into her elk leathers for good purchase.

The avian looked at Tala, then toward the wolves, then back to Tala. Finally, he shook himself and trilled, the sound much greater than it had any right to be.

Silence once again filled the area.

The wolf leader’s voice rolled into that silence. “You claim the rights of a flockmate? To fight at her side?”

Terry trilled his assent.

“You are not bonded.” The wolf didn’t say this as if it were an objection, simply a statement of fact.

Terry let out a few chirps in response.

“Ahh, yes. I see. Threads of existence tie you, even if not bonds of the soul.” She turned to the russet wolf.

That much smaller wolf spoke for the first time, sounding like an excited teen, barely holding back his jubilation even as his projected voice was easily sent to all who were nearby. “I will fight her with any she cares to bring.”

Rane shifted, but before he could do anything else, the wolf leader spoke. “One. You may bring one—the terror bird or none.”

Rane slumped just slightly as he grimaced, denied once again.

Terry squawked his readiness. Tala glanced at the terror bird, the magically wonderful murder-bird, her friend. “Are you sure?”

He looked back and responded with a soft coo. Tala somehow understood it as “How could I not?”

She smiled and nodded, turning back to look down on the wolves. “We will face you.”

Without further delay, she stepped from the walltop and dropped, landing with a minor boom on the ground before the wall.

“My understanding is that inscriptions are not allowed, is that so?” Tala clarified.

“Nothing unbound to you is allowed. Your clothing is bound, so shedding your false fur is not required. I have brought a gift of Anatalis, which will render your inscriptions inert for the term of the fight. With your permission, I will enact it now so that you may acclimate before the clash begins.”

Tala nodded, even as she strode away from where she had landed.

She didn’t know the source of the powers that rolled over her as if her iron, aura, and resistance weren’t there, but her magic was suddenly much weaker, only her natural magics remaining.

No, not weaker, less directed? Less… stable.

-This… rusting… bleh.-

I’m sorry, Alat. Tala knew that Alat would be fine, but without Tala’s mental inscriptions—as well as lacking the specific inscriptions for Alat—the alternate interface was severely restricted.

Tala moved, feeling her range of movement and the power of her less enhanced body.

Still more than a hundred yards away, the wolf stood ready, having come forward as she did.

He was larger than her, and she could tell that he outweighed her both magically and physically.

“You have pre-prepared attacks on your back.” The wolf leader pointed out.

Tala did, indeed, have eight siege orbs in four sets in a holster on her belt. “Is that forbidden?”

“It is.”

“Let her keep them.” The sireling snarled eagerly.

“No.”

Tala just shrugged, taking them out of the elk leather created pouch and tossing them back toward the wall where they landed in a puff of snow. “What of these?”

She held up her tungsten rod and balls, along with her defensive discs. The wolf leader gave a contemplative growl. “They are bound to you at their core. They will be allowed.”

Tala nodded her acknowledgement, and let them go, moving them to her battle positions by the effort of her will.

The six discs moved, floating in a somewhat random orbit around her; the tungsten rod hovered across the back of her neck, barely an inch from touching her; and the balls moved to float just beside each shoulder.

“Are you ready?” The question seemed to shake the nearby forests, causing the trees there to shiver and their branches to shed their burden of snow.

“To the death?” Tala asked, yet again trying to clarify.

“Yes.”

The russet wolf interjected again. “I will accept your surrender, human. You need not fear.”

The wolf leader growled even deeper, and the sireling’s fur stood on end, even as his head dipped in belated respect. “Though impertinent, he does speak truly. We know your death is not like ours.”

“Understood.” Tala nodded once.

The wolves howled again, once more not obscuring the leader’s voice, “Are you ready?”

Terry suddenly grew in size until his shoulders were of a height with the sireling’s, his neck holding his head higher still.

He trilled toward the sky in a way that seemed to be a direct challenge to the wolves’ howls.

Tala felt herself grin even as she enacted her last preparations.

Iron and white steel flowed over her, layering her hex-based, ablative armor around her body. She even gave a little hop at the end in order to allow it to cover the bottoms of her feet.

Then, with an act of will and magic—likely very similar to the wolves’ own manner of speech—she sent her voice outward, “Ready.”