Someone was forcing hot liquid into his mouth. Tarn spit back while coughing, almost feeling annoyance at being pulled out of such a restful state. Finally after months of conflict, there were no problems, no costs or decisions to make, no battles to win. He had finished the game, and toppled his king on the board.

He was trying to die here after all, and it was very peaceful. The least they could do is give him a few minutes to finish.

The warmth came again, and this time he opened his trembling lips to accept it. At first all he could taste was the hotness of the water itself, but after a moment he detected faint hints of ginger and other spices. It was pleasant, and it felt like a warm beach wind as it slid down his throat.

His eyes flickered open, then shut immediately at the bright white that was all around him. It took a few more blinks before he could adjust, as the world slowly shifted from a blurry snow-colored haze to the icy pond and surrounding snow.

Lash was sitting nearby, pushing another cup of tea towards him. His big yellow eyes were wide with concern.

“Drink, boss.” He lightly jiggled the teacup for emphasis. “You won. Beat the big bear. We need to get up, things to do.”

Tarn took another long swallow of the tea, then returned to Lash. He tested his arm muscles first, and feeling only a little soreness, pulled himself up into a seated position.

The massive corpse of Icegore lay upon the ground before Tarn. Snow kicked up by its collapse still hung in the air, shining crystals of ice that intermixed with the dying embers of combat. Tarn had expected the great beast to vanish in a cloud of mystical particles as most enemies did, but the corpse of the bear still lay where it had fallen.

Beyond their fallen adversary, the tunnel carved into the side of the great mountainside now lay unobstructed. Bog and Narsol were already walking toward the shadowed opening. Tarn could see the flicker of torch light from within, dancing in the wind that exited the tunnel. More importantly he could feel warmer temperatures on that wind, and perhaps the end of days of worrying about cold.

Urthin silently came to stand beside him, eyes narrowing at the entrance.

“It would seem that ahead lies the end of this journey.”

His head still swimming, Tarn thought about teasing Urthin about his habit of stating the obvious and decided against it. Smiley was right, it was good to add milestones and allow the team a sense of progress.

Urthin reached his hand out, and pulled Tarn up. The world spun around him for a moment, but quickly settled. The cold was beginning to eat at him again, but it also was clearing his head. He took one last pull from the cup, draining the ginger tea Lash had given him.

“That’s the entrance to the Axe Dungeon?” Aryo’s eyes were wide with anticipation. “We actually made it?”

“Did you doubt us, kid?” Jental gave Aryo a shake of her head and a teasing wink. But it felt forced in the light of what had been shown in the fight against Yarex, and it was clear she knew they could tell. The false light left her eyes, and she turned away.

“I - Jental,” he stammered, blush and frustration coming to his cheeks. “I don’t understand … it was a hard trip and…”

“Don’t worry about Jen, Aryo.” Tarn clapped him on the back. “These fights have been tough on everyone. I’m as happy as you are, and maybe just as relieved. The bridge threw a lot at us, not to mention Yarex. But now that we’re here – could you and Isca scout ahead a bit?”

“Are you sure?” Isca grinned, flexing her wings and hovering. She showed no fatigue from the combat with the bear, and seemed almost invigorated. “But Tarn, I thought you liked surprises?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty done with surprises right now.” Tarn laughed, trying to keep the bitter edge out and only partially succeeding. It wasn’t as forced as Jental’s reaction, and it was good to keep morale light. It was clear Isca knew that. “Just go in a few hundred feet and get a sense of things. Nothing crazy, okay?”

“Hey, it’s me.” Isca said with a smile, turning and buzzing toward the tunnel with Aryo in tow.

As Tarn watched the pair head off to the cavernous tunnel opening, Lash suddenly began jumping up and down excitedly.

“Boss!” His voice was even more high pitched than normal. “Look! Look at the bear!”

Tarn looked down at Icegore’s remains and gasped. Magical essence seemed to leaking out of the beast, streaming from its maw in a fast-moving cloud of arcane energy. The release made a mournful sound, as if the bridge itself were crying for the loss of its champion. As the stream issued forth, the bear began to deflate like a balloon losing air.

In moments, there was nothing of Icegore left but a huge flat bearskin, lying on the snow like rug. As Tarn and the others stared at it, a large lump suddenly appeared in its center. The lump then moved, scurrying back and forth before heading straight for Tarn’s boots.

Lash popped out, a huge grin on his face and both arms filled with objects made of fur and ivory.

“Prizes!” The gremlin grinned with struggling with the weight of his load, offering them up to Tarn. “Rewards for being bear-killers!”

Tarn accepted the motley collection, as Lash vanished and dove back under the bear’s hide. Within his gloves he held one massive bear paw. As he focused upon it, Tarn’s interface quickly informed him of Lash’s findings.

ICEGORE’S PAW

Usable once per battle, charges: 3

May be used to augment any one attack for the duration of a battle, adding the [endless bleed] to the first time the attack is used.

[Endless Bleed]: Target loses 10 AP at the beginning of their pulse. This status effect lasts the duration of the fight.

Note: IceGore’s Paw may cause [bleed] even on enemies normally immune to [bleed]. Abilities that remove negative status effects do not remove [endless bleed].

In the end the true enemy of any man is no beast or monster, but instead his own bad decisions.

Nodding with satisfaction, Tarn handed Icegore’s Paw to Urthin. He wasn’t sure yet who should keep it, or maybe even it could be rotated between team members. But he had little doubt they’d want it in the fights ahead.

“I told you not to speak to me!”

Bog’s voice cut through Tarn’s thoughts as it echoed across the canyon, filled with rage and anger. Turning away from Lash, he saw her standing at the front of the cave, advancing on Narsol. Jental and Urthin struggled to restrain her, but she was pulling them along with her.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Ah, shit. Just the sight of Narsol brought his own frustrations boiling back up. He had no intention of letting Narsol just walk away from his actions in the fight with Yarex, but he needed him alive. Based on the look on Bog’s face, he’d be questioning a corpse if he didn’t intervene soon.

“Bog!” Tarn shouted as he began to run. “Stand down!”

He doubted she heard him. With a mighty lurch she broke free of Urthin and Jental, lunging at the orc and slamming him into the wall. Tarn’s interface crackled to life, crisp blue letters running across his mind.

//Intent Dissonance detected //Initiative begun: Bog <> Narsol

His back pressed against the rocky stone wall of the tunnel entrance, Narsol’s frozen hands were up in a defensive posture.

“I merely… wished to thank you.” His voice trembled as he looked up at his attacker. “For saving our lives and our quest against such a foe. I do not understand-”

“I saved my team,” Bog seethed. “We need you, but I have not forgotten that you wish to hide the truth of yourself from us!”

“I said knock it off!” Tarn raced between the pair, placing himself directly in the path of Bog’s raised fist. For a moment, the rage behind her eyes barely seemed to register his presence. The heat of her anger almost radiated from her, as Tarn saw years of confusion and conflict about her origins bubbling again to the surface.

She looked down at him, breath heaving with her anger. It was a mirror of the moment when they had first met, when Tarn had faced down her understandable rage at all things human. He had simply stood in her way, arms at his sides, and smiled.

She didn’t hurt him then, and he knew she would remember. It took a moment, but the fire in her eyes slowly began to recede. The anger was always there, it was part of who she was. But he watched her wrestle it back under control, her jaw clenched with concentration.

With a roar of frustration, she lowered her hands and turned away.

//Initiative cancelled

“I am confused.” Movement returned, Narsol reached up to rub his back where Bog had slammed him into the stone. “She rages at more than me, or even more than who I represent. I do not understand what-“

“Don’t give me that shit.” Tarn shook his head, pointing his finger in the orc’s face. “I was going to wait for … a better moment to do this, but Bog’s right. We all saw how you reacted during the fight with Yarex.”

“How I reacted? We drove them off, and I was part of that!”

“That’s a laugh!” Aryo said scornfully, gaining a shocked reaction from Jental. “I may be a kid, but I know a liar when I see one. You didn’t want that Beacon’s light on you!”

Narsol opened his mouth to protest, then shut it just as quickly.

“Aryo’s right.” Tarn took a step back, hoping giving Narsol a little distance would get him talking. “After Jental and Urthin had their secrets revealed, you didn’t want us to know yours. You were willing to risk almost anything to prevent it, and it was pretty damn obvious.”

Her back still turned Bog slammed one fist into the snow, raising a cloud of white powder. Next to her, Urthin narrowed his eyes at their would-be teammate.

“You have been evasive from the outset, Narsol. More than can be explained by a simple discomfort of being around humans. You are hiding a truth, and it would do you well to reveal it.”

Tarn looked at Narsol, seeing a resolve he recognized. Whatever he was protecting, it was important.

“You can’t do this without me.” The orc spoke through clenched teeth. “You need me.”

“No, I don’t.” Tarn shook his head. “Your whole value here is what you know, and if I don’t trust you then I can’t trust what you tell me either.”

“You’ll never get through the Axe without my help.”

“Oh really?” Tarn laughed, looking to the heavens in mock concern. “Maybe you forgot who you were talking to, and what we’ve already done. Oh no – we’ll be inside a dungeon we’ve never been in before. How ever will we survive?”

Narsol’s face fell under the assault of Tarn’s confidence, and willingness to go it alone if they needed to.

“Just talk, Big Green!” Lash padded up, hands humorously on his hips. “Secrets are dumb! Lash getting bored, want to go in dark tunnel.”

Tarn watched the final battle raging inside the orc’s mind, the weighing of options and scenarios. After a moment, he could see the decision had been reached at last. The resolve went out of his eyes, his hands unclenched from their fists.

“Very well,” he said. His voice was steady and strong, as if telling the truth was easier. “I made a choice to conceal certain things from you in the outset, and I now regret that decision. In truth, I came to you under false pretenses.”

“That’s hilarious!” Jental laughed from the rock she leaned upon. “The whole thing was a set up? Those old geezers and kids on your ship were what – secret crack commandos?”

“No!” Narsol’s voice took a pained edge. “No! That was not a … ‘set up’. Those I brought with me were just as they seemed. Survivors or refugees of an attack – an attack by the Progenitors. My people’s plight and suffering are very, very real – as is my desire to end it!”

Years of sitting across from Rykin and a King’s Towers table had given Tarn a good sense of when the truth was being twisted. He could feel little of that here. Narsol was still being careful to choose certain words, trying to weave the truth through a needle of his own design. But while that much was clear on his conflicted expression, his pain for his people and their fate was genuine.

“Then what?” Tarn took a step closer. “What was it you didn’t want us to see? Was that not the only thing you were here to do?”

“It was me, wasn’t it?” Bog’s voice no longer carried the incoherent rage it had earlier. Now it had shifted, gaining a threatening edge as her mind joined the fight. She walked back, muscles tensed. “Your big secret, it has something to do with me. I could see it in the way you looked at me on the pier.”

She came to stand next to Tarn, towering over Narsol as she leaned into him.

“You looked at me like I was some kind of moon-damned freak.”

Her arm shot out in a blur, grabbing Narsol by the throat. Pulling him forward, she lifted him off the ground and slammed him back to the wall again.

“Why? What am I to you? Talk!”

“Bog!”

“You are…” Narsol wheezed against her hand, but his tone was still filled with reverence. “The Kai … Vae… Ryiah.”

Oh shit. Again.

“The what?” Bog slowly lowered Narsol back to the ground, while still keeping her hand on his neck. “What is that? Why do you say it that way?”

Narsol’s dark eyes ran from Bog’s face to Tarn’s. Setting his jaw, he shook his head in defiance. With a roar of disgust, Bog released him and whirled to face Urthin.

“Smiley!” She advanced on the Monk. “What does it mean? Don’t tell me you don’t know, you know damn near everything.”

“Bog, you need to calm down!” Tarn leapt forward, cutting her off. “We’re all pissed at Narsol, but there’s a way I wanted to handle it - and this isn’t it!”

He put his hand between her and the monk, keeping them separate. For a moment, the anger in Bog’s stare ran like a river, wild and threatening to grow out of control again. Then her gaze shifted to Tarn, and she softened.

“I just – Tarny.” She stammered. “I don’t trust him. I don’t want to know, but part of me can’t let it go. I’m sorry – to you and to Urthin.”

Urthin favored Bog with a small nod.

“While it seems I know far less than I thought, Bog – I do know this term. That information is yours if you wish it. But I would caution … the term is not you, no matter what Narsol believes. You are the person you have chosen to be.”

“Urthin.” A single sigh escaped from Bog’s chest, ragged in its delivery. “Just tell me what you know. I’ll remember what you said.”

“Are you sure, Bog?” Tarn moved to put his hand on her shoulder. Several feet away, Narsol silently viewed the exchange while rubbing his neck. His eyes narrowed was he watched them, as if they were speaking another language.

“I am ready, I guess.” She grit her teeth, her lower tusks peeking out. “Now that the door is part open, it will drive me crazy not to know, and I’d rather hear it from a friend.”

The monk gave Tarn a quick but questioning look. Tarn nodded back, steading himself. They had walked the thin ice that was Bog’s lost memory for years. Maybe it was time to swim.

“Very well,” Urthin said. “Kai Vae Ryiah is a title – loosely translated it means ‘the blade’s tip’. The Kai Vae are a select group of the most feared of the orc Chieftain’s warriors. A deadly force on the battlefield like no other, the entire orc military is built around them. The Kai Vae serves as an example for all other warriors to strive for, and all enemies of the Chieftain to fear.”

Urthin paused, and Tarn watched the decision to reveal the rest play out in the monk’s mind.

“Yet the Kai Vae Ryiah is unique even among that group. This term only goes to a single individual, with the special distinction of being of that Chieftain’s own blood.”

“His blood?” Bog took a step back, as if she had been struck. “But that would mean…”

“Yes.” Urthin nodded impassively. “You are the Chieftain’s daughter.”