The blankets provided by the orc teen Ornla were thin, yet Tarn felt guilty using them. The child had insisted, saying it was an honor to help the friends of the Kai, her previous anger at humans now seemingly vanished in the presence of a legend. Ultimately, he had accepted in the face of the growing grin on the child’s face.

With the smile providing more warmth than the blanket did, he had been able to drift off into a fitful, dreamless sleep. Shoving his boots under his head like a pillow, he slept on the ground. Most would find it uncomfortable, but he had done it so many times before. A nice mattress was fine, but there was nothing wrong with a little dirt under your back.

Sleep slowly began to pull away from him, like the tide rolling back to sea. With each breath, he could see another face that was now gone. Sinah. Rykin. Narsol. Finally, Yarex.

The rogue monk had died still certain he was right about Tarn, still convinced he was doing the correct thing trying to stop him. Just as sure as Tarn was now. But they couldn’t both be right.

As his eyes fluttered open, he was aware of the sound of breathing next to him. He turned, suddenly staring into a pair of emerald eyes. Isca smiled softly, the second time this night such a gesture had made him feel warm. This warmth was different, but still pleasant.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” His voice was a croak, and he had a vain wish for coffee.

“I did sleep,” she whispered. Her antennas crossed slightly as she looked at him. “As you did. Now I am listening to you breathing.”

“Okay, that’s not creepy at all.” Tarn laughed softly, rolling back over to stare at the ceiling. “I know you’re just worried.”

“As are you. I can sense it. I worry for you, but I worry about other things as well. To know that my people are … thralls. Slaves to these monsters. I worry for my family, my father.”

“We’re going to get there.” He reached out, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Both for your people and the orcs. We’re going to see this through.”

“You are very comfortable promising that which you do not know, Tarn.” She moved closer to him, her hips now in contact with his. “Wasn’t that your issue with Yarex? That no one can know the future?”

He laughed. As he released her hand, she drew in closer to him, laying her hand across his chest.

“You should debate Urthin some time, you know? But yeah, that’s fair. I might be wrong – and what if I am? If Yarex was right…”

“Stop.” She placed a single finger across his lips. “I was wrong to question. That is not you. You do not second guess yourself once you have made your decision.”

“Maybe I should start?”

“No. It is as you told Narsol.” She lay her head upon his chest. “You are not the strongest, the fastest, or maybe even the smartest. A leader does not need to be those things, he or she can have them on their team. What a leader needs to be is decisive, and that is what you are, Tarn. Someone who can make the ‘hard calls’, as you call them, and live with the consequences.”

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He looked back at her, his eyes connecting with hers.

“You know, there are times when I’d like to kiss you.”

“That does not seem like a hard call to me.” She moved closer, her lips just inches away from his. Tarn leaned forward, only to hear the scape of a boot upon the dirt beside them.

“Tarny I – “ Bog stopped, looking down at the two of them intertwined on the floor before her. She grinned. “Oh – I am interrupting. You need time alone. I am sorry.”

“No!” Her cheeks blushing, Isca gave Tarn a quick kiss on his nose then leapt to her feet. “No, Bog. We really don’t – I mean I need to – go check. On my… wings.”

Isca began to walk to the chambers exit, then stopped for a moment. Using her wings to lift herself a few feet off the ground, she whispered something in Bog’s ear. After a moment, Bog laughed and nodded. A further grin on her face, Isca winked at him and then hovered her way out into the shadows.

“Uh, what was that all about?”

“You don’t have to know everything, Tarny.” She sat down next to him, the ground trembling slightly with the impact. “She’s cute though. You deserve someone to be happy with.”

“Thanks for your approval, Bog.” Tarn sat up, giving her a playful punch in her arm. “But that’s not why you’re here.”

“I guess I’m here for a talk.” She sighed, an uncharacteristically soft sound. She handed him a warm mug that smelled amazing. “Here, I made some coffee. Durmin and the kids love it.”

Tarn raised the cup to his face, savoring the sweet aroma before taking a sip. It was lukewarm, bitter, and wonderful. Exactly what he had wanted.

“Best thing I’ve had in days.” He took another sip, longer this time. “Narsol would be happy with this. He wanted to be ‘The Lord of Coffee’.

Bog laughed. It was smaller than her usual roaring belly laugh, quieter like her sigh. “He was an ass, but that was a funny moment! He would be happy, indeed. I spent some time with the kids. The orc children. They are quite funny, all questions and energy. They remind me of Lash. Actually, they even kind of look like him!”

“That’s our Lash. Just a kid, who might be a thousand years old.” He looked over at her, as she turned her mug nervously around in her hands. “So, what’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know.” She stared into the coffee. “This moment – it feels like an ending somehow. Like crossing a doorway.”

“An end for the Progenitors on Ak-Thanon I hope. We kick them off here, drive them back into the dungeon? We may be rid of them forever.”

“I hope that too.” She took a sip of the coffee. “And I’m not worried about dying.”

“Bog, you can’t die here.” Tarn laughed. “We had this worked out, remember? I turn forty. Urthin kills me, then you kill Urthin in an angry rage. Then you and Lash go out for a beer and drink to our memory.”

They both sat for a moment, chuckling softly while the steam from their mugs softly drifted upwards in the damp cave air. Tarn could feel the threshold Bog was speaking off, it was waiting right outside. One way or another, this was likely their last quiet moment.

“You surprised me last night, revealing your Kai Vai Ryiah background. Maybe Durmin wouldn’t have agreed to try again if you hadn’t. But how do you feel, the next day?”

“Confused.” She drained her mug in one gulp. “I don’t know why I did it. It feels like I am… trying out a new weapon. Seeing if I like the weight and swing. I am not sure.”

“You get to decide, Bog. And change your mind. Whatever you do, I’ve got your back. That never changes.”

“I know that, Tarny.” She gave him a punch in the shoulder, which nearly knocked him over. “And I appreciate it. But let’s get going before we start kissing too.”

As if he had been summoned, Urthin popped his head into the small space.

“Tarn.” His voice was even more dour than usual. “Bog. It is first light, and Durmin has just returned from what he called ‘preparations’. He says we either move now, or we don’t move at all.”