“Thank ya kindly for retrievin’ the blade, descendent,” Shacklock said fondly, patting the shoulder of the frozen stiff Kazuma. “I woulda done it meself, but I might have ended up killin’ all those cats if I’d tried. This way, I haven’t pissed off the damned sun by killin’ his get.”

At that, Kazuma turned around to gape up at the man who had, apparently, fathered the founder of his clan centuries ago. “You knew where the sword was?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Shacklock shrugged. “Eh, easier this way. Pay it no mind, boy. Ya played your part well in this dance, and can sit it out from now on. Yer great-great-great-great-great-great grandad will see this out.”

Violently, Kazuma pushed his chair back from the table and spun to face his ancestor. “THAT WILL DO ME NO GOOD!” He shouted. “The entire reason I agreed to this expedition is to restore the honor of my house! If I don’t have the blade, what’s the point?! You’ll break it by using it!”

At this point, I was feeling a bit forgotten by the two of them, and I don’t think I was alone in that. By and large, the heads of the rest of my party were ping-ponging, watching the family drama. However, I noticed that Venix was looking…troubled. The Antium samurai had released his grips on his swords and had stood up to watch the two arguing men with a lost expression on his face. With the revelation that Shacklock was the ancestor of his long-dead master…

I could understand a bit of internal conflict.

Meanwhile, Shacklock wagged a finger at Kazuma, almost mockingly. “But ya see, boy, someone technically from the clan is going to slay the Wyrm. I’ll see this out, make sure the beast is dead, and I have some documents affirmin’ the relationship ya can present in court. AND,” He said loudly, overriding the protestations Kazuma looked to be gathering. “I’m not leaving ya with nothin’. In exchange for the sword, and slayin’ the beastie…you’re getting the Order.”

Kazuma froze, staring at Shacklock. “What?”

“Wel, I’m gonna need someone to lead my life’s work when I’m gone, eh?” Shacklock smirked. “Bein’ the last of blood, that means it should fall to you. Those documents also affirm that as well.”

Venix finally spoke, albeit quietly. “And your men will abide by this decision?”

The Antium was afforded an almost bored look, but Shacklock still nodded. “Oh, I’m aware of Wernstrom’s little plot. But it don’t matter. The rest of my officers will fall in line, and he’s being…dealt with, by those in my confidence.”

Dealt with. I…see.

Liora sucked in a sharp breath. “That patrol…they mentioned the Captain wasn’t here…”

Shacklock let out a somewhat…ominous chuckle. “Why did you kids think I was even out there, hunting useless beasties, eh? I sold my men a story about gatherin’ up all the Oni and slaughterin’ ‘em before we took on the Wyrm, so we could weaken him. Don’t work like that, o’ course. But most of ‘em don’t know better. I went out for some fun, found you kids and killed what was botherin’ ya, all the while the bulk of my men were out fightin’ the rest of the Oni in these mountains. Between us, there shouldn’t be many of the things left to bother with the final part of the operation.”

“That’s…” I trailed off, unable to properly verbalize what I thought of Shacklock’s plan. A part of me was pissed off at how easily the old monster had played…well, everyone involved. But the bulk of me just admired, and was a admittedly a bit jealous, of the feet of social and military engineering.

I don’t think I was able to keep my appreciation from my voice, judging by the sharp look Venix shot me, as well as the wink I got from Shacklock. Kazuma, meanwhile, was still frozen in place as his own plans were entirely wrecked, entirely in his favor. He didn’t have to sacrifice his life anymore, in exchange for elevating his family back to prominence within the Hinagan court. Now he was going to be returning as the leader of a powerful, if not exiled, Martial Order.

Still, the trade involved the sacrifice of his ancestral blade. I could tell that the situation weighed on him, from the conflict on his face. Notably, he didn’t protest though.

Shacklock cast an eye around at the disturbed expressions of most of our faces, either from the revelations about Grey or about how we’d been played, and just rolled his eyes. “Oh, it ain’t the end of the world, kiddies,” He said in exasperation. “By the time ya get to be my age, you get better at this kind of thing,” To my surprise, he then faced me and locked his beady black orbs onto my emerald ones. In a rare moment of complete seriousness, the madness seemed to fall away from the man. “Remember that, the next time you see him.”

I looked away.

I’m…not sure I could argue with that.

Shacklock interrupted the mood by clapping his hands. “Now! Here’s what’s goin’ to happen. You kiddies are going to keep my descendent safe by findin’ yer door, and keepin’ him with ya while this old man deals with the big bad dragon. Everythin’ will go down while yer all down there, and the rain will have died with the Wyrm. Well, if I don’t screw it all up, I suppose. We’re all in uncharted territory here. You lot can stay until daybreak, and I’ll be informin’ my officers about what’s goin’ to happen while ya hit the hay. Won’t take long, though. They already know ‘im.”

Kazuma looked up from his lap to stare at Shacklock for a moment. “Is that why you had me shadowing you all this time?” He whispered.

Shacklock just winked at his descendant.

……………………………………

After that, all of us but Shacklock and Kazuma filtered out of the command tent and found only hostile stares from the scattered soldiers huddled around their hissing cookfires. Without even needing to discuss the matter, we collectively decided to venture to the edges of the plateau in order to pitch our own tent.

Once we had finished, I was extremely glad we’d opted for a tent capable of housing an indoor campfire of our own. The smoke from the flames drifted up above us to pass through a one-way, enchanted membrane that let it out, but didn’t let the rain in. We hadn’t needed to do this up until now, considering the heat out in the jungle, but now it was very welcome. All of us were soaked to the bone and exhausted after a hard day’s march through the central range of Goryuen. Most of the time, people at our level didn’t need the rest that sleep could bring, especially after we had all taken the time to get some within the warm embrace of Mt. Umetsuji just last night.

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

But I think we were all going to sleep tonight.

First, though, everyone had stripped down to their underclothes to dry them on a line strung up in our tent, while we warmed ourselves in front of the fire. I wasn’t even phased by the near nakedness of my companions, by this point. There was little room for privacy on an extended expedition like this. It was nothing I hadn’t seen before, and the closeness with which Bella and I sat together wasn’t anything new to my friends. Eventually, we’d stopped sneaking around when it was obvious that there was no need for it. Everyone here knew each other, by now.

It must have been obvious, to them. So, while Bella and I weren’t quite cuddling, we were sitting closer together than was strictly appropriate for friends.

The only noise in the tent was the silent scribbling of Renauld and the bubbling noise of liquid originating from above the cookfire. None of us had spoken, ever since we had finished crowding around the campfire and set a pot of travel stew to boiling. Hanging next to it was a kettle with collected rainwater inside, which Liora had set for tea. From extended contact with the Gnoll woman…I had learned that she often sought it out when she was stressed.

I understood that.

I broke the silence, staring into the depths of the fire without blinking. “So. We were played.”

Nobody spoke up to refute me, although Azarus grunted in a familiar manner.

“I…” I continued thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I care.”

That drew a reaction. Bella turned to me with a raised, doutful eyebrow, while I received similar looks from the others.

I elaborated.

“Look. All of this?” I said, gesturing with a wide sweeping arm. “This entire thing with the Solstice’s Flame and Kazuma and Shacklock? None of this was in our plans. Sure, we might have gotten a little manipulated by a centuries-old madman-”

I heard Renauld snort across the fire from me, and mutter something under his breath. All I heard was, “…a little…”.

I pretended I didn’t hear him and kept speaking. “-but we’ve come out of it mostly fine. That’s done, though. Shacklock got what he wanted out of us, which seemed to be keeping Kazuma out of harms way while he purged the dissidents in his Order. Now we can get back to doing what we came here for. We’ll find the bunker, go down there with the help of our extra in Kazuma, find what I’m looking for, and then leave. All the while,” I nodded over to Venix, who didn’t look up from his brooding. “Shacklock will be dealing with the proto-Calamity above us. Every problem we have will be wrapped up nice and neatly, and we’ll probably have the gratitude of the new leader of a historically powerful Martial Order. Excuse me. They call them Sects here if I’m not mistaken.”

“You are not,” Venix said quietly but didn’t refute my points.

Liora removed the kettle silently, and set to brewing a few cups of her personal favorite blend. When done, she handed one out first to Venix, and then to me. “Cynical,” She said quietly. “But pragmatic.”

I accepted the cup and cupped it between my hands. “Am I wrong?”

Liora looked away in answer.

I hadn’t thought so. Liora and I…we were similar, in a variety of ways. I sipped at my cup, and as I felt the warmth travel through me, I couldn’t help but sigh and cast a glance at the tense form of Venix. “Did you have any idea that Shacklock was…?” I trailed off, but he understood anyway.

Venix flicked his compound eyes up briefly, before looking down. “The living ancestor of my master?” He asked mirthlessly. He shook his head. “No. No, I did not.”

“Speaking of…” Renauld said, closing his journal with a soft thump. “I’ve been wondering something if you don’t mind answering.”

The Antium samurai stirred but did not look up from his contemplation of the cup. “Speak.”

“How…did Gozen of the Twin Fangs die?” Renauld wondered aloud. The question caused Venix to tense, but he didn’t immediately burst into recriminations. That must have emboldened the Gnollish Healer. “Because we have no idea, and honestly? It might be helpful. It’s looking like we’re not going to be directly fighting Tatsugan, but that might change. We all know our luck.”

Hah.

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Venix was quiet. He didn’t say anything for so long that I think all of us had thought he had dodged the question. Azarus was handing out bowls of stew by the time the Antium finally stirred from his contemplation and spoke. “He fell.”

Bella looked up from her bowl with a curious look. “What? Who fell?”

“My master. Lord Gozen Higanashi of the Twin Fangs.”

Renauld raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but how?”

To my surprise, Venix actually huffed a small, humorless laugh. More a scoff than anything. “I’m being literal, Healer. My master died, falling from a great height. The impact upon the stones of these mountains killed him. His bones shattered, his organs ruptured, and every drop of blood in his body was washed away in the rains.”

If he was capable of it, I think Renauld would have turned green at that. “Oh.”

“Yes. Oh. Perhaps the favorite method of slaughter to the Returning One is that he loves to snatch his prey up in his great claws and take flight. Once he has climbed to a distance to where even his great bulk is naught but a spec in the sky, he releases them. He races downward after, to keep pace with the falling form of his victim, in a cruel mockery of their plight.” Venix sighed heavily. “This is the fate that befell my master. I watched it all, helpless, from the sidelines. Every last minute of the plunge.”

I furrowed my brow, setting my bow down briefly. “How is that your fault? You’ve…implied that Gozen’s death was caused by a failing of yours.”

Venix lowered his head. “Because I was meant to be the Wyrm’s victim.”

Ah.

Everyone stopped their dinner to watch as Venix marshaled his courage to continue speaking. “I…” He started haltingly. “I was his squire, for the battle. It was not going…well. Many of my brothers and sisters had already died, at the height of the Ryumetsu Matsuri. If Shacklock has already culled the majority of the Oni before the battle, we can only be thankful. Because they came in great hordes on that day, and nearly everyone else was slain. It was one of the worst casualty counts that the Empire ever recorded for a Ryumetsu Matsuri. Near total decimation.”

I sensed a heartbeat approach the tent, but not enter. Instead, they lingered outside. Normally, I think Venix would have been able to sense them, but he was too absorbed in the tale. Liora noticed, though, and I shook my head minutely at her.

I recognized that heart.

“And so it came to be that my master and I were the last two of the cohort confronting the beast to survive, and the Wyrm was not yet slain,” Venix continued heavily. “I was the last remaining warrior capable of keeping the Oni from pestering my master as he dueled Tatsugan, blade against claw. However…the beast is clever. In a moment of inattention on my part, it must have darted for my unprotected back, as I dueled my own red giant. It snatched me up, and nearly, nearly made off with me. My master…he was noble indeed. He did his best to save me, leaping forward, blade in hand.”

“This proved to be his downfall.”

I internally winced at the choice of words as Venix continued his tale, staring off into space unseeingly. It looked like he was reliving that day once again when he had so obviously done so time and again.

“I was bait, you see. With his other claw, the Immortal One grabbed my master and darted into the clouds, discarding me like so much refuse with his true prize in hand. I feared that everything we had fought and sacrificed was for naught, all due to a moment’s inattention by my fool self. However…” A wan smile crossed Venix’s lips. “The Wyrm had only brought my master closer to his heart. All I saw were distant flashes of black void in the stormy sky, the signature activation of the fang. Then Tatsugan’s death scream, followed by a cloud of Miasma that I have never seen matched, racing across the sky to cover it in billows of umber smoke. And falling through that vile mist, I saw the form of my master, plunging towards Vereden’s surface. I knew he would die from such a fall, and yearned to retrieve his body and blade. But the Oni were not to be denied. I was alone, and they were still mighty and numerous. Shamefully, I fled for the beach, where the survivors were readying the ships for a retreat. The rest…you know. The Lady Shurenga found and recovered my master’s blade, and safe-guarded it for Lord Kazuma.”

It was Lord Kazuma, now, eh?

Venix fell silent after that and retreated into mediation in the corner. I think Renauld was regretting his question a bit, from the expression on his furry face, but he didn't keep the Antium from his solitude. Instead, he just looked back down at his journal and started scribbling again.

At the same time, the presence outside the tent lingered for only a moment more before retreating back into the rain.

I wonder what you made of that story, oh Lord.