Rane watched as the commanders stepped forward to end the life of the axtl chieftain, but not for long. He could feel it. This was not a place that he belonged in. As the first exchanges began, so did the dispersal of the rest of the fighters engaged in the battle. None wished to become fodder in the squabbles of giants.

The battle, however, raged on. Rane’s squad reached a place out of sight of the battle, but not out of earshot. The noise of the battle that ensued in their wake sounded like the anger of a sentient storm.

Smaller skirmishes broke out once again, and Rane had no time to rest.

They walked in a group of four and two respectively, Rane now in a weakened group by the loss of Aabe. They reached a small plaza where wicker baskets of various fruits and nuts lined the huts surrounding it.

Many were spilled, and some others had been burned in fire that was now just smoldering, filling the area with a sweet smelling smoke that did not match the bodies lying motionless in the street.

In the haze across the street, there were three more axtls, hunched over and moving quickly towards them. The one on the right was much larger than the other two. They were just a bit larger than Rane himself. He now knew these ones to be children, but that was ok. He had been a child once, too.

Rane tried to trip the big one with ambient, but this one had much better sense than many of the others, nimbly stepping over the rock he had sent rolling across the plaza.

Puddles and the others had already repositioned, and were setting up to cut the two smaller ones away from the larger one.

That left Rane and Klein to handle the beast with just the two of them.

Klein took point and stormed in, not even making an effort to hold his blade in his hand anymore. Instead, the weapon floated as if in a phantom grip another arms length away from his hand. He would tire quickly like this, but the situation demanded more.

Rane also took things up a notch. The dust around him rose a bit and fell. Instead of a swirl of dust, two more blades emerged from Rane’s clothing to begin orbiting him, their points remaining pointed at the threat in front of him.

The axtl opened its arms wide and swiped from both sides, attempting to catch Klein off guard. Klein never stopped his forward momentum though, and simply ducked, barreling into the beast's legs, sending it flying forwards into a roll.

A blade from Rane’s orbit suddenly picked up speed, shooting out towards the axtl, catching it in the right shoulder. That blade would be lost, but it would also lose mobility until the blade was removed, which was difficult, as the extra blades Rane pulled from under his clothing had no handles, specifically designed to be thrown with ambient.

A horrible cry of pain could be heard from across the plaza as one of the smaller axtls lost its hand. It fell to its knees, holding its forearm as blood hemorrhaged from the open wound.

Its cry was cut short as Puddles’ blade fell directly on its skull, bisecting the creature to its chest.

The larger axtl let out another roar, and Rane needed no knowledge of their language nor bestial culture to understand what they had done.

Before, he was not sure that the axtl mind comprehended the world like he and his fellows. Now, hearing the scream of this axtl, he knew he had been wrong.

This was something like how he had reacted to the death of Aabe.

It may be how he would react to the death of his mother.

Or, perhaps, more likely, how his mother would react to his death.

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He shook his head, having no time for such needless thoughts. This was still a battle, and this battle was still a war that they started.

The parent axtl sprung forward towards Puddles, ignoring Klein completely, who flung his broadsword over his head in a wide arc, bringing it crashing down onto the creature’s hunched spined, sending it crashing to the ground in a heap.

It twitched its arms and writhed, still trying to move forward.

The was another poor howl as the other smaller axtl was dealt a crippling wound, and the larger axtl thrashed wildly for a moment before growing still again.

Both blows proved fatal.

*****

Caeris knew that battles among high ambients were devastating, but she had never participated in any against other ambients, only some relatively powerful animals that some liked to call monsters. She knew better than to call those simple beasts a title so lofty as monster.

Even still, their surroundings were devastated. The only features that still remained were the small mounds Commander Germaine kept creating to obscure lines of sight and provide cover.

Nastael and herself were solely focused on keeping the honor guards out of the fight between Jaskil and the village chieftain. The speed of the bone masked axtls nearly matched that of their projectiles; they evaded with uncanny ease, and their legs sent them springing like a grasshopper.

But they could not hold out for long. Their areas of direct control were incredibly strong, but focused largely inward, increasing their physical attributes. In a 1 on 1 encounter, this would benefit them greatly. Unfortunately for them, humans rarely relied on 1 on 1 encounters.

Germaine changed the surface around them time and time again, sometimes changing the soil to a dense, rock-like state, sending the towering creatures skating across their surface. Now, he had loosened the topsoil to the consistency of a freshly plowed field, sending another crashing to the ground as it landed, its paw sinking deep into the loam.

Its luck ran out, and one of Nastael’s bolts slammed into it from above, pinning the creature at an odd angle before each of its joints were pierced by Caeris’ slender blades.

This was a turning point in the fight, but as the commanders readied themselves to push their advantage, the chieftain let loose a guttural howl, clearly a command of some sort. The chieftain and the honor guard disengaged, briefly exchanging words before the chieftain took a somber step forward.

Jaskil had not simply allowed them to converse; the axtl chief had simply rebuffed him while giving his final orders to the now fleeing honor guard.

Now, the chieftain stepped forward, the patterns of his fur obscured by dust and blood. He opened his arms, sending slices of obliterating ambient in all directions, rending even the soil hardened by Germaine.

He reached to his headdress, and from it removed a simple bone instrument. Without hesitation, he raised it to his mouth and breathed into it.

The sound was like nothing Caeris had heard before. She could hear it, but she was sure there was more to the sound that she could not hear. It made sense that the axtls could likely hear more.

But that was not all. She felt ambient present in the sound, as if the chieftain had suffused his ambient into the sound itself, like a much more complex variant of the manner by which tallies are taught to amplify their voices.

Jaskil had shrugged off the last attack and was racing in at a speed almost untraceable by the eye. Not her eyes, but still, it was impressive.

The chieftain turned to him… and simply stepped into the coming blow.

His head flew far from his body, the ornamental headdress falling from it when it hit the ground.

The massive corpse fell to the soil of the forest with an audible crash.

As the light of the morning sun snaked through the dense foliage, silence reigned.

*****

The plaza was silent after the last axtl died. He also no longer heard the noise of battle from anywhere else. It was quiet. The lack of noise suddenly seemed so jarring, so foreign.

Rane was also suddenly aware of just how tired he was. He had been fighting for a few hours. He sat directly on the ground, breathing heavily. He knew that Puddles would start barking orders soon, but he didn’t care.

He would follow the orders when they came. For now, he would rest.

A shrill and pervading noise interrupted his rest mere seconds in. The noise was loud and pitched, but also seemingly everywhere. Maybe it was the echoes throughout the forest, maybe something else.

He was curious, but too fatigued to care. He closed his eyes just as the burning summer sun rose, mirrored in the rivers of blood.