“Here she is.” Hearing Telhrian’s voice, Ferene looked behind her. He stood on the hill, another Hatharen behind him. The newcomer was covered in dirt and dried blood, her long white hair stained and matted with clumps of both. “This is Ahleyhen, from Treventhal.” Ferene stared at the two of them, too exhausted to talk.
“Telhrian here asked me if we had any wanderers to the south. Specifically males. We do have one. Name of Salveren. Left some sixty years ago, doing research. I don’t know the details. We aren’t sure where he is now, but in the human city Ettsgras you might find something.”
Ettsgras was the capital of a large kingdom to the southwest of the independent lands. Far from Ferene’s path, people would occasionally mention the far-off place. Ettsgras going to war, Ettsgras looking for soldiers. Both a place of wonder and prosperity as well as the head of a terrible war machine. With how far west she was now, she should be closer to it than she ever was before.
A third Hatharen quickly walked up the hill, pushing past Ahleyhen and staring closely at Ferene. Dark green eyes looked directly into hers, and Ferene recoiled. The yellow-haired woman laughed, turned, and walked away. Ahleyhen turned and ran after her, leaving Ferene alone with Telhrian.
“The sickness is worse with more of them?” He asked. She nodded. “There is a lot we don’t know about your kind. Not enough of you to really know what to expect. Especially ones that stay and try to fight. Today…today was bad.” He frowns, and lets out a sigh, sitting down on the hill. Ferene sat down beside him, staying silent. “Twenty eight squads left. A hundred and sixty eight, plus you, set out. We lost thirty nine. For Treventhal, I don’t know how many they lost. Might be a similar number. Might be more.” He fell silent.
“It wasn’t worth it.” Ferene said, thinking of Tahrean.
“Do you really think so?” He asked, looking at her. She looked back, not sure how to respond. “If we ignored them, they would have found a way to cross the mountains, and raid the human lands. Think about what you experienced today, but much, much worse. Could any of the humans fight in that condition?” Ferene shook her head. “We have arrangements to get supplies from them. Our stronghold can’t exist on its own. It’s a secret that most humans don’t know about. All of it is. But certain families pass the secret down and uphold an ancient deal. Thirty nine of us died today not just to protect the humans, but to protect ourselves. Without the humans we cannot stay hidden in our strongholds, and if we do not hide we will have to fight eventually, and if we fight while surrounded we would have lost far more than we did today.”
Ferene considered this, then looked at the forest. Blood and bodies. A naturally sickening sight now, as opposed to the unnatural sickness the monsters made her feel when they lived.
“The seven of us all lived today. We have another chance to celebrate, when we get back. You don’t have to stay with us, though. You can go back, you can go find Salveren, if he is your father. Find the answers that you want, that you need.”
He stood up and left her on the hillside. Ferene remained sitting, thinking. Would she be abandoning them, or were they better off without her? In this kind of battlefield, was a vomiting fighter that couldn’t speak the language valuable, or a hindrance?
Silence dominated the return trip, just as it the on the way out. This silence did not hold tension, but sadness. If every squad of six was a family, there were broken families here. There were lifelong - for Hatharen, eternal - partners separated from each other, one dead and the other left alive. Yet they did not weep. Every one of them slowly walked home in silence. For grief, they had all the time in the world.
Two lifts were in operation in the chasm, but also a number of ropes hung down between the two cliff walls. Single individuals were hauled upwards holding on to these. Ferene waited at the back with her group, surrounded by other groups of six, all silently watching as groups of twos, threes, fours, and fives walked forward and were taken upwards to their home. She felt the saddest for the few that stood alone.
One of them stepped forward, reaching towards a rope, and stopped. All motion around them came to a halt. Everyone waited. Slowly, the warrior turned and walked past the waiting groups, back to the lands beyond. Heads bowed as they passed, and Ferene followed suit. When the footsteps faded, action resumed. More weary Hatharen were lifted into the darkness above.
“If someone chooses not to return, no questions are asked. We understand we will never see them again. What they do is up to them. Some go to hunt the beasts, killing as many as they can. Others simply wander until the beasts find them. Some take their own lives.” Sathar whispered as they waited. Ferene nodded. She understood the reaction, if not the pain.
Eventually Ferene herself was lifted up. Holding onto the rope, she rose upwards, watching the darkness above until the caves appeared and a Hatharen face looked over the edge, their hands pulling on the rope. She smiled, but then looked away from her as they pulled her up and over the edge onto the platform they descended from that morning. She waited there for the others, and joined them as they left the platform.
Stepping from the wooden structure onto the floor of the cave, Ferene found an odd sight waiting for her. A number of Hatharen knelt on the ground, their heads bowed. Tahrean walked between them, wearing a white robe and holding a wooden staff, touching each one on the head and whispering a few words to them. Some stood up to give the elder an embrace before walking off, while others stayed kneeling. Ferene watched the odd process for a moment, before Rilya pulled her arm, leading her away.
“What was that?” She asked as they caught up with the rest of the group.
Sathar shrugged. “Wisdom. Words of knowledge offered to those that lost members of their families. A small comfort for the ones that want it.”
“The elder knows more about loss than any of us. They can heal the wounds of the heart and the mind. Tahrean will always be there for you in your time of need, even if they do not involve themselves in the fighting. This is what they offer, to show they have not abandoned the people entirely.” Telhrian added as they walked. Ferene looked over her shoulder, watching until she could not see the gathering.
Arriving at their circle, the seven of them split off, entering their own dwellings. Ferene and Rilya removed their armor and stared at each other awkwardly. Rilya pulled her into the bed, wrapping her arms around Ferene and burying her face against her neck as they lay side by side. Returning the embrace, Ferene felt her friend shaking, silently sobbing into her. Their family all lived, but how many friends did she lose today? People that should have been with her forever, that she would now never see again? Squeezing her tightly, Ferene stroked Rilya’s hair. She had interacted with the Hatharen of the stronghold for only a number of days, and her new family barely more than twice that. This wasn’t her world. One day, she would die, even if she lived a peaceful life. Ferene was not eternal. Did she really belong here? Telhrian’s words from earlier lingered in her mind. He already knew the conclusions she was only now coming to. Did the rest of them know that as well? Did Rilya? Ferene clenched her jaw, holding Rilya tighter.
Breakfast the next morning consisted of bread from the day before. They ate it plain, cold. None of them talked. Feeling the awkwardness, Ferene ate fast and ran off, abandoning them. There was a guilt to it, but staying felt worse. She felt like an invader, so she left, and went to the place for exiles.
Tahrean sat in a wooden chair at the edge of the cave, staring downwards into the abyss of the chasm, still wearing the white robe from last night. They looked up at Ferene as she approached and smiled wearily at her. “It is good to see you made it back alive.”
“We sat and watched as others died.”
Their eyes bored into hers. “Does that upset you? Would you rather have been in the fighting, amidst the bloodshed of the battlefield?”
“If it could save-“
“And when the enemy breaks and runs, scattering in all directions, what if one passed through the mountains because there were none to stop them? If you return to the human lands and find a path of death and destruction that they could not stop because even looking at such a creature horrifies them into paralysis?” Tahrean stood, coming to their full height. “Would you trade a handful of Hatharen lives for hundreds of human ones? Thousands of human ones? What is the value of an eternal life? How many humans need to be saved to justify to you the death of one Hatharen?” They poked her in the chest. “How many human lives would need to be saved to justify your own death? Half as many? Less or more? Who are you to decide what they choose to sacrifice themselves for?”
Ferene stepped back, surprised at the outburst. “Before, you-“
“Talked like I did not approve of their war? Their deaths?” She found herself interrupted again. “I don’t, but I do not try to stop them, I do not try to tell them what they should or should not do. I will not stop them from throwing their lives away in senseless violence if they believe it is worth it. Even if most of them never met or saw a human, and have no knowledge of what they fight and die for. Even if they do it out of an obligation to tradition, an obligation to avenge their mothers and fathers and family members that died in the same war for the same reasons with the same ignorance. I will not break their dream. I will not tell them that I am right and they are wrong, because everyone can make that choice for themselves. So I stay out of their way. I lie to them when they come back broken, I tell them they did the right thing even if I do not believe it. Too many lives have been devoted to this for me to tell them it is all for nothing. They must come to that conclusion on their own, because they get to decide the value of their lives. Just as you decided the value of yours.” Letting out a long breath, Tahrean sat back down, looking even more exhausted than before. “My apologies.” They said, after taking a long breath. “Times like these are difficult for me. Old age does not make tempers vanish.”
Ferene could only nod, her lips in a thin line. Did Tahrean know about her past, or were they only guessing? “I don’t think I can stay here.”
“So you figured it out, did you?”
“When I got back, one of them wouldn’t look at me. I did not know his name, but he pulled me up here and did not meet my eyes.”
“Like me, you are a waste of their resources. You cannot fight as they do, can you?” Ferene shook her head and Tahrean nodded, turning to look downwards again. “And you will never have a child. You will not contribute more bodies to the war effort.”
“Why does it matter?” She asked. She never once thought about having children, the news that she couldn’t didn’t matter to her, but it mattered a lot here.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“There was a time when the women were not allowed to fight. Too valuable to put at risk, supposedly. That was a very long time ago, when we thought the war would be easy. It did not last long, only a few thousand years later we realized if the women did not fight, we would be completely overrun. So they joined the fight, and things were better, until the deaths started adding up. We are not meant for war, but that is all we do. More will realize that you are a hindrance, and unlike me you do not have their respect. I am an ancient creature, a treasure that they must protect, a relic of the past containing endless knowledge. You are a small dog. Cute, but offering little practical value. A luxury that they eventually will be unable to afford. Can you please your master enough to convince her to keep you when everyone else wants you gone?”
Ferene grabbed Tahrean, hauling them to their feet. “I don’t care what you call me, but if you say something like that about any member of my family again, I will throw you off this cliff.”
Tahrean laughed. A high-pitched, ringing sound. There was both beauty and mockery in that sound. Something happened, and Ferene found herself on the ground, staring at Tahrean’s bare feet visible below the hem of their robe. Her back hurt. Slowly, she rose to her feet, looking up at her attacker.
“I must apologize for angering you, but I will not permit you to threaten me. Rilya is a good child. She will defend you. The other five might as well, for a time, but consider their position if the rest of the stronghold is against you. You will force them to choose between you and their people. Do you want to do that?”
“No.” Ferene answered. “I will leave before that happens.”
“Good. In the meantime, how about you make the most of your time here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Education.”
Before Ferene could return to her family-squad, Sathar and Filraehen found her.
“You get to help her carry things today.” Sathar told Ferene. “Because you ran off earlier.” Ferene simply nodded, and followed Filraehen across a bridge to the other cliffs, then into a small lift-basket that took them higher up, until they were just below the plateau. Rather than a slope like the cliff face behind them, this one rolled back in tiered steps, each one lined with wooden planting boxes. The two women stepped out onto the lowest tier, where Filraehen picked up an empty woven sack and handed it to Ferene. Taking it, Ferene followed her along the rows of planters, taking various tubers that were handed back to her and tossing them into the bag.
The process was long and slow. Filraehen would stare at each plant before finally reached out to touch one, and often changed her mind, sometimes even after digging the plant up. In these cases she would re-bury it and move on to the next one, repeating the process. Slowly, Ferene started filling the sack, and spent her time paying closer attention to what Filraehen was doing, which plants she rejected and which ones she handed to Ferene. Not having seen gardening like this up close before, Ferene wondered how similar it was to what the humans did.
Partway through the third tier, Filraehen stopped, staggering slightly and putting a hand on her head. She stayed still, and Ferene began to grow concerned, suddenly realizing that she had no way of asking what was going on. Before she could start to think of a plan, Filraehen turned to her, her eyes wide, and grabbed her by the shoulders. The larger woman was breathing fast, looking down into Ferene’s eyes, but her mouth broke into a wide smile. She clapped Ferene twice on the shoulders and leaped down to the first tier, grabbed the rope, and slid downwards without even using the basket. Bewildered, Ferene stared after her, absently holding the sack of tubers, before following her down.
After taking her time with the descent, Ferene arrived at their gathering circle to see everyone but Sathar and Filraehen present, though Telhrian and Alri were sitting down looking towards the dwelling the missing two shared. Ilraghen paced back and forth, fidgeting, as Rilya watched him. The first two were smiling and talking to each other, while the other two both wore deep frowns.
Setting the sack on the ground, Ferene drew Telhrian’s attention. “There you are.” He observed, giving no other explanation.
“Filraehen ran off without me.”
“She had more important things to do.” He told her, turning back to stare at the small building.
Ferene frowned, looking over at Ilraghen and Rilya. “Like what?”
“Having children.”
“Why?” Ferene asked the question immediately. Telhrian stared at her in confusion. She looked away.
“It is not entirely uncommon for this to happen after loss. Something about it all tends to…” He trailed off, thinking. “It activates. The, um…” He said a long string of words in Hatharen, and Alri laughed. Telhrian blushed. “Something makes them want to have children.” He finished, putting his hands on his face. “I’m not the one who should be explaining this. The two of them will be busy for the rest of the day.”
“The whole day?”
“Well, it’s, uh…” He said something else to Alri, and she patted him on the shoulder, smiling at him as she responded. He took a deep breath, his face red. “Apparently the desire is much more intense. Or so those that have experienced it have said. This is a first for all of us here. But that is why we should be happy about it.”
Ferene looked over to Ilraghen. “Shouldn’t he be with them?” She asked. The three were almost always together at night.
“He…he loves both of them a lot. But he is not her partner. Sathar is. Tradition demands he leave them alone. As much as he wishes otherwise.”
“He can just go in.” Ferene gestured towards the open entrance. “You wouldn’t stop him, would you?”
Telhrian shook his head. “He is very torn between following traditions and his own desire to be with them.”
As they spoke, Ilraghen paced back and forth, stopping and turning around every few steps, his hands sometimes shoved into the pockets of his trousers, other times clasped behind his back, and a few times pulling at his hair. Rilya just stared at him and frowned.
Thinking it over, Ferene took a deep breath, walked over to Ilraghen, and interrupted his pacing. At one point, he wanted her dead, but now he was part of her family. They fought together and returned alive. They knew what the other was capable of. He stared at her, his mouth twitching, his hands clenched into fists. She pointedly looked at his hands, making sure he noticed her gaze. Then she looked him in the eye, slowly raised her own fist, and lightly punched him in the shoulder. He opened his mouth in shock, then closed it, looking at her in confusion. So she punched him again, harder this time. Then a third time, deliberately leaving herself open. After that, he punched her back. He punched her hard, the blow full of anger and frustration. Suddenly he was hitting her over and over again, yelling. Ferene did not block, but instead turned with each hit, tensing her body just before the impact while also moving away from it. It didn’t take long for him to knock her down, slamming her onto the wooden flooring of the circle. Rilya was on her feet, but Ferene waved a hand. Ilraghen punched her in the face, and Ferene felt her nose break. She retaliated, and was covered in blood from his lip. The hit made him pause, but only for a moment, before he punched again, but this time missed Ferene completely, his fist impacting just beside her face and staying there. He started crying. As Ferene wrapped her arms around him, he collapsed against her, his body going limp as he sobbed loudly.
Eventually he calmed down and stood up, allowing Ferene to push herself to her feet. Rilya smiled at her, and she smiled back, then turned to Telhrian, who just stared at her. “Your traditions are stupid.” She told him, turning away before she could see his reaction.
She was starting to understand why Linara warned her not to come here. Why Tahrean stayed away from all of them. There was something very, very wrong with the Hatharen.
Ferene spent the rest of the day wandering, walking back and forth across the rope bridges, avoiding anyone that looked at her. The more she thought about it, the more her anger grew, so she tried not to think about it. Eventually, she ended up in the cave with the training area, dirt spread on the floor. A single Hatharen stood there, holding a wooden sword in both hands, shaking as she went through a series of motions. Ferene stopped, watching her. Most of her red hair was tied into a low-set ponytail, but a lot of it hung free, swirling around her as she moved. Her movements were quick and sporadic, jerking herself from one swing to the next, pausing between each motion for awkward, irregular intervals. Frowning, Ferene walked over to the weapon shed and picked out a mock sword for herself, stepping into the ring in front of the girl.
The two made eye contact, and the Hatharen came to a stop, standing unsteadily and panting heavily. Getting a better look at her, Ferene judged her to be a bit shorter than the average height for Hatharen, her neck even with Ferene’s eye level. The Hatharen’s own eyes were wide and her pupils heavily dilated. Slowly, Ferene raised her own weapon. The girl leaped into action, attacking her wildly, furiously, screaming. Ferene blocked, stepping back under the ferocity of the onslaught. Since coming here, she had not felt something like this, in all of her sparring matches. Her opponent was trying, desperately, to kill her, despite the wooden weapon. Ferene blocked again and again, slowly being forced back. Even her duel with Ilraghen did not compare to this.
If she kept fighting like this, Ferene would find herself backed into the wall. The next attack, she redirected to her side, letting her take a step in the other direction. Slowly, she turned the two of them like this. Despite all the effort this Hatharen put in, Ferene did not feel overly pressed. Her previous opponents had properly beaten her, but the overly emotional girl flailed more wildly, making every attack less effective. With more space behind her, Ferene took a step back, disarming the girl on her next attack by deflecting her weapon into the ground. Stumbling forward, her opponent fell to the ground and burst into tears, sobbing as she pounded her closed fist against the dirt floor.
Swallowing, Ferene looked around, finding no help. Stepping forward, she put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Tahrean.” She said, pushing her gently.
“Don’t tell me to go to Tahrean.” The ferocity of the scream caused Ferene to flinch back. “Even you, even you can beat me, how can someone like that help? How can anyone help me?”
Ferene bit her lip. “I’m not good at talking.”
She let out a sound halfway between a cry and laugh as she stood up, turning to look down at Ferene. “And I’m not good at fighting. And they all died because of it. Yet I lived. Why is that? Why is it that I fail and everyone else pays the price, but I’m still here? Does Tahrean have an answer for that? Maybe if Tahrean was there, instead of hiding, maybe more of us would have come back!” She reached out, shoving Ferene backwards. “What do you know? Why were you even there? To watch? To look on as we all died? You and those looking after you, watching from the sides, waiting around instead of helping, picking off stragglers? For what? To defend the humans? Your humans?”
“And what were you doing on that battlefield, if not protecting humans, Sekhrian?” Tahrean’s voice cut across the cave from the cliff face. Ferene turned to look, and saw them standing there, another Hatharen trailing behind as they walked towards Ferene. “I stay out of things because I do not believe in trading our lives for the safety of humans. Do not blame this one for making the exact same choice that you made in going down there to begin with.”
The red-haired Hatharen spun towards Tahrean. “You would have me abandon them, then? Leave them to fight and die alone?”
“I would have you properly understand what they died for, before you judge the actions of others, child. Your actions here do not show any respect for your family. Is this truly how you wish to proceed?”
She stood, tense and silent, glaring at Tahrean, before finally letting out her breath, all the tension leaving her body with it. “No, I don’t.” Turning to Ferene, she did her best at a smile. It did not reach her eyes. “I’m sorry. I…thank you for sparring with me.” She bowed, then stepped towards Tahrean, talking quietly. Ferene could overhear the conversation, but it was not in her language. At the end of it, she bowed to Tahrean as well.
Patting the girl on the back, Tahrean watched as she walked across a bridge to the other side of the stronghold, then turned to Ferene. “She is very young. Almost as young as you. She thought she could handle herself, but she could not. Luckily, you were there, and so she lives to see another day. Do you wish to live, Ferene?”
She paused. Did she want to live? Not too long ago, the answer would have been no. Deep inside her, she still felt that hatred of what she was, what she had done. But now she thought of Rilya, of Linara, of the family on the farm. “Yes.” She whispered, then repeated it, louder. “Yes, I want to live.” She thought of the name she had, for the person that might be her father. Of the rest of her new family. Humans preyed on the weak, but not all of them did that. The Hatharen were a twisted, broken people, but not all of them wanted to live that way. Some smiled and laughed and loved and wanted to live for something more than just fighting and breeding. Ferene did not have to be chained by her past any more than the humans were chained by their circumstances or the Hatharen were chained by their traditions.
Ferene wanted to live.