The stranger’s name was Orum Draceana Atainna and he was vraekiri, wandering warriors who spent their lives seeking out greater heights of strength by challenging greater opponents. Some went as far as to cross the sea to find their next challenge, as Orum had done. But the crazy mountain blood hadn’t taken a boat, like any sane person. No. The man had swam to different continents.

“The swimming is not the hard part,” Orum declared after slamming down his mug, waving for the prancing woman serving drinks to refill it. After a very good meal of fried fish, the captain decided to bring the boat in early and treat the stranger to a drink in exchange for what promised to be an incredible story. Orum hadn’t disappointed. The crew of four, who had never experienced anything remotely exciting in the pleasantly peaceful Dawn, sat around the round table at the Drowning Dragon, a favorite bar of theirs, riveted to his every word.

“The movements become routine and it is easy to slip into meditation. Small, repeated exercise like that is best for quick melding, so it was quite effective for training and my body is strong enough that I made good time. Problem was, this body still needs to sleep occasionally. I was never concerned about death but the bigger creatures always carried me off. Sometimes hundreds of leagues in the wrong direction. Added weeks to the journey whenever I had to cross a significant distance.”

The claims would have been ridiculous had anyone else made them, but Gourd had watched the man come back to life. Or apparently, wake up from a deep sleep. Besides, he wasn’t so out of touch with the world that he didn’t recognize Orum’s name. Not his first or second, those could have come from any province, but certainly his third.

Atainna. The ruling family of Dusk for the past three generations. Given his three names, he must have married into the family, which made sense. While the people of Dawn were a generally peaceful lot that took pride in their cooks and traveling merchants, Dusk valued one thing: strength. It was a land of warriors. It made sense that a member of the royal family would take an interest in a vraekiri.

The server came by with a pitcher and refilled their mugs. “So, what’d you fight, kid?” the captain asked while Orum took a long drink. Given their new acquaintance was taller than all of them by at least a head, only the elf Gourd knew had seen at least three centuries would dare call him a child.

“The first stop on my journey was to Titan’s Horn.”

“Ah, they call the place Green Mountain.”

Orum inclined his head to Gourd. “Yes, the clans renamed it, didn’t they? Then, I traveled to Green Mountain. If you do not know, the clans have the tradition of nurturing champions, using countless resources to push one individual beyond the limits of their race.”

“And you faced these champions?” Gourd asked, his voice betraying his mounting excitement.

“I don’t dare call it a true fight, as it was not to the death. A being only shows its true strength when wagering its life. Instead, I will say that I trained with them.”

“Bah!” the captain spat. “What can a bunch of gobs and hobs teach a vraekiri?”

“More than you think. The clans are used to fighting creatures much stronger than them. They think like the weak and that is what I needed help with.”

“Then…you were training to fight a creature stronger than you?” Gourd reasoned. “One that can’t be taken down with strength alone?”

“Your mind is wasted hauling fish. Yes, you are exactly right. There is a beast I must fell and my strength is meaningless before her. Therefore, I had to learn to fight in a different way.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Don’t drag it out, mate!” the pale-skinned hauler yelled. “Go on! Tell us about this beast.”

“I speak of my wife, of course.” Orum took a drink as the table gawped at him. Even the server had paused, eavesdropping on the interesting conversation while her eyes snuck glances at the broad and bare chested Orum.

A quick glance around the room showed that the woman wasn’t the only one eavesdropping. The whole room had turned to their table at the wandering warrior’s revelation. Gourd wasn’t surprised. Before, Orum’s story was the stuff of legends, the kind that set aflame the hearts of all boys that craved adventure. Now, with the introduction of the startling twist, it had entered the realm of drama, the kind that bards salivated over and dazzled audiences from atop stages.

Another server appeared at the table and placed a small glass on the table before Orum. Whatever it contained smelt of fire and cinnamon. “On the house,” she told him with a flirtatious wink. Gourd didn’t know if it had come from the woman as a discrete invitation or from the owner appreciating the man making the afternoon more lively.

Orum took the glass and downed its contents in one gulp, setting it down gently as opposed to the way he slammed his mug. An action of a man that was conscious of his strength. He took a quick glance at his captive audience before continuing his tale with a sigh.

“A quick history lesson. Many of the Twilight clans ventured out into the world in search of creatures to sire strong progeny with. However, the Great War brought them home. There were far too many for a single province, so they spread throughout the continent, searching for new homes…and new mates.

“One of the most notable of those clans is the Atainna. Most Twilighters are known for their alchemy but the Atainna are a fighting clan. They marched into Dusk, known to have the strongest fighters, and massacred their way to the crown. Those who put up the most resistance were taken as lovers or slaves. Or both. I’m sure there was even less distinction back then.”

Orum grimaced, beset by bad memories, and took a long drink before continuing. “My wife, Morgene Atainna, the elder sister of the current reigning queen, is a strong adherent to their traditions. She cared nothing for the crown, only seeking to improve her own strength. When it reached a level she approved of, she shifted her attention to continuing her line, hunting down the best mates to ensure children with talent.”

“Aye, those Duskies are insane. Should of known they had Twilighter in them.” The captain spat to the side. “Guess she jumped on you and rode you like a wide stallion, eh?”

“Lucky bastard,” someone muttered.

Orum frowned at the sly grins and envious grumbles around him. “It was not as attractive an offer as you all are imagining. The night I met my wife, she turned up in a village I was passing through. Claimed she’d heard about my exploits and wanted to test my strength. Then she attacked me, without waiting for a response.

“One moment I’m having a drink. The next, I’m fighting for my life. Don’t think her interest in me meant she pulled any punches. A beast only shows what it’s truly capable of when its life is wagered. She taught me that philosophy. I thought I would die with every attack and fought with that belief. It didn’t matter. Back then, I had a poor grasp of the strength possessed by the true monsters of this world. She beat me until my connection to life was as thin as a hair.”

Orum shuddered, an unnerving gesture on a man that looked like he could break rocks on his biceps. “I was unconscious when she dragged me to a healer. When next I woke, I was bound to a bed. She sat beside me in a chair, clothes still dirtied with my own blood. She looked at me, right in the eyes, and asked me if I wanted what happened next to be easy or hard.”

He took a large drink. “I thought she meant another fight and was pondering how she expected me to do battle while bound when she started undressing. My wife…she is beautiful. Incredibly so. I was ashamed for being tempted despite having been beaten into submission that same day…I think. She never told me how long I was asleep.

“While I gazed upon her in stunned bewilderment, she delivered another cryptic statement. If I chose the hard way, she would enjoy herself much more than I would but if I chose the easy way, I would be the one to enjoy myself more.

“By now, I’ve gotten that she’s not talking about a fight, at least not in the traditional sense. And given that she had smiled the entire time she beat me senseless, I didn’t want to experience anything more she might find joyous. I…chose the easy way. As promised, I enjoyed myself. Eventually, I agreed to a union.”

“You’re mad,” the captain said, waving for Orum’s cup to be refilled. “And now you’re trying to kill her, eh? I get it. Never met a man that didn’t think of throttling his wife once or twice.”

“Morgene, I am accustomed to. No, the reason we must do battle once more is the reason I formed a union with her.” For the first time, Orum smiled, eyes lighting up with delight. “My darling daughter, Kii.”