Clans and Battalions
Lepius
So that was it. All that she liked.
He sat at the rim of his cot, thinking about all his mana told him.
Do something. Go through it all, turn by turn, until you can spin like you used to.
The bed beckoned him closer, into its embrace, but he brushed off the whispers. He folded the paper that contained everything she liked and didn’t, and slid it under the bed. His hands did linger on the pillows atop them for longer than his mana would’ve liked, but he wrenched them away.
He wasn’t alone here.
Rosemary’s mana surrounded him, along with his own. They were just enough to pull him away from the ravenous darkness, from the echoes that told him the world was empty, how he would best serve it curled up in bed. They shone their lights on the dark, and for a moment, it was silenced.
It would still bubble underneath him all, ready to leap up and grasp at him when he was weak. But that was not now.
Do something. Anything.
He got to his feet so quickly it was as if the bed was burning.
Downstairs, Rosemary separated the herb from the stem as she worked through a basket of nearby plants. She made no attempt to talk, even as he made his presence known with a thud onto the cot, but he made no attempt to either.
He relaxed in the warmth after their talk – this silence between them.
There was another basket containing berries, wild nuts, and even mushrooms. He got to work on that, sorting them and discarding the ones that were crushed or looked inedible. Now that he was close by, he could just make out Rosemary’s humming, and he fell into a simple rhythm: pick up, identify, and categorise.
With her voice, it was slow, relaxing work.
----------------------------------------
Karra
Her mother bundled her up tight in what felt like forty layers of grass and cotton.
Cotton, just for me?
The material was a luxury – it only came from far off Deinos, where it was said that there were lizards the size of lions.
And that wasn’t the only thing she was bundled up with. Pressed tight into her and still teary was her mother, who was whispering scathing threats to her, but with the gentlest tone, and she had yet to repeat one: “You are grounded, young lady. No leaving the camp without ten chaperones. You shall be leashed and collared.”
She giggled at the last one.
When she did, she felt her mother’s mouth twitching upwards on the fabric of her dress. Scratch that. It was forty-one layers, considering the insides of her dress were thick with Rosemary’s stitching. Just the sensation of it on her skin made her smile, and in fact, anything to do with Rosemary and Lepius made her smile now.
“My sweet calf. What has you smiling so?”
There was a wriggling somewhere, and Karra giggled again when she realised it was her mother trying to extricate a hand to smoothen her hair, as she always did. But the hand couldn’t budge a bit. Her mother had fastened the blankets around them with no space to even breathe, ever since Karra had stumbled into camp trembling from the morning dew.
There were a few downsides. It was hot as a furnace inside, and their legs were sweaty.
But she didn’t complain - just one night parted from her mother reminded her of the terrifying alternative: the opening, red maw of a beast. She tucked her head closer to her mother.
Her mother repeated the question when she gave no answer. There was no sharpness in her tone – Karra often left many discarded during her daydreams.
“Ah, uh. I was thinking about Rosemary. And Lepius.”
Her mother frowned. Karra guessed she did not approve of them, and even when she first relayed her night to an excited crowd, most had received the story of the two bark-people that had leaves for hair with bored looks, with the same whispers of “Karra, daydreaming, yet again.”
The rest snorted and shook their heads.
A towering tree that smacked down a Stalkerwolf? Sure, there had been a distant thud somewhere overnight, but that could have been anything. And also, the forest was a couple hours’ walk away, and everything seemed to be in order at a distance: no glowing trunks, no curling waterslides.
It was only after she had pointed out that Tonho didn’t return with her (after Mother told her of that brave lad), and showed the stitches in her dress and Rosemary’s satchel, did they come to terms in huffs. The murmurs turned into discussion. “Strange folk, but not half bad,” and, “That part about the tree was definitely an exaggeration.”
They could say what they wanted, for she knew the truth. The others could stuff themselves. There was only one mind she wanted to change, and it was looking up at her through those round eyes.
But there was a problem: her mother’s mind was a beast of it’s own, and for good reason.
Bovines were a herd animal. They lived in clans, herds, spread across the Noshad Plains in camps that dotted the sea of grass. Most bovines lived in peace. Of course there were battles, but they were rare due to bovine nature. And while battles were few and far in between, there were disagreements, and plenty of them, especially between rival clans.
In their culture, the clan came first.
Bovines scrutinized any stranger, even if also bovine, even if they had saved her life. Right now, Karra herself had no such scrutiny. She recalled Lepius stitching her up with his gentle hands, Rosemary’s mana manipulation, shearing off trees like a razor did fur.
They are my closest friends. They are my only friends.
She was a part of their herd now, and she just had to show her mother.
Karra wriggled her way to freedom, leaving the blankets and her mother in a pile. She bounded out of the tent into the sunshine, receiving the near-winter air with a shiver but a smile nonetheless. What a windy day it was! Against the wind, the sweat on her fur felt like ice, and maybe she should’ve slipped back inside for a coat, but she kept walking anyways.
From here, she could see the Forest.
If she walked fast, she could get back to that wonderful place of laughter with her mother before dark, and maybe they could stay another night.
“Come on, Mother! I’ll show you how wonderful Lepius and Andura are!”
“Maybe- maybe tomorrow, my dear. You’ve had such a fright two nights ago, so you’d best recover first.”
Ah. Junni ‘Sunflower’ Meadow needed a tiny extra push. Had she forgotten how to? Never. She looked up, then widened her eyes, and how round and glittering those orbs became. No one could resist them, least of all her mother. And indeed, after only a couple of seconds, she heard the signal to absolute defeat: Mother’s sigh.
Victory!
----------------------------------------
Adventurers
Residing near the centre of Terstein was one of its main attractions.
The complex stood close to all the other amenities. Walking down the many roads leading to it, one would find inns, blacksmiths, apothecaries, all the trades that catered to staying alive, for the complex’s clientele was the kind only found in these frontier towns, so near to the border and the unclaimed dungeons.
The Terstein Adventurer’s Branch.
It was a busy day for the receptionists of the Branch, ever since the whispers of the Classless monster went from speculation to the Lesser House. At the moment, most were gathered in the main hall. So were the adventurers. And for that moment and all the others prior since that Session in the morning, people were not only gathering, but their emotions were, too.
A sea of mana churned against the walls, and the hall groaned against it.
It hung off the second-floor balcony, pushed up the chandeliers overhead, and got those poor receptionists sweating at the counter. Dealing with adventurers was routine. Dealing with united, riled up adventurers, all armed, their mana shoving and shouting to be the loudest? Half the receptionists ended up leaving after they went the day without hazard pay.
And it was at that moment a farm boy stepped in for a delivery of his family’s herbs.
He looked around, wide eyed, at the crowd of adventurers demanding refunds for rooms paid in advance, bookings for caravans, and generally being loud and rambunctious.
Ah, adventurers.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
When he took a step in, his knees buckled. This mana… Deity, give him strength… he managed to straighten his legs, holding onto the box of herbs like a lifeline. And that was when he heard it.
“Who do we have here, hmm? How adorable….”
He turned to see three adventurers, sat around a table.
The human woman who had just spoken did so in a honeyed contralto, and she inflicted him with a grin a bit too wide for his liking. She leaned closer, then licked her lips. Her staff leant against the table, a hot pink that clashed with her black dress, and in one hand she stirred a glass of something that fizzled and spat like acid.
She drained it, all the while making eye contact.
An equine male sat next to her, his arms crossed. Even sitting, he was taller than half the adventurers standing up, and he had his muzzle raised into the air, his mane combed to absolute symmetry. He had his eyes closed, almost as if in meditation. The boy couldn’t imagine how you would meditate like this, with all the shouting and mana.
And finally, there was the nakh.
He could not discern their gender, and they seemed the sort who would take offense if asked, so he did not. They had a stack of letters sitting in front of them, all with the same recipient: Vladas. The nakh was lounging on two chairs, their torso on the first, their tail draped upon the second, and was blowing smoke rings towards the ceiling.
When the lady spoke, the nakh turned just one eye to him, the other still on the rings.
“Yes, madam. Just dropping off some herbs.”
The equine whinnied, as to clear his throat. His voice was a deep bass as he said, “You best come back another time, lad. News of the Classless monster had just spread.”
The boy’s eyes widened, “Are you going to fight it? That tree-monster?”
Then, all three adventurers laughed. The lady leaned closer with that wide grin, “Oh, how cute you are. You must be a momma’s boy… you would look so good… ahem. But no, we’re not fighting it. Best leave that to the Classless.”
He wilted, “Aw. Why aren’t you fighting? If you all team up, I’m sure you’d kill it!”
The lady passed her glass to the nakh, who made a show of sighing. And then, before his wide eyes, the nakh unhinged their jaw, milked a drop of venom from their fangs, and passed back the glass. It began to froth at the edges. The lady poured in a drink and drained the cup, venom and all. All while staring into his eyes.
The equine snorted at their play, and turned to answer the boy’s question himself.
“We’re Third Classes, lad. We’d die just by standing near the mana of that kind of fight. It’s called mana backlash. And not only that, but we would only be a distraction to the Classless-”
He saw the lady and the nakh share a look as the equine droned on. They winked at each other, and then the nakh’s tail slapped onto the table. The equine paused. After the sound passed, he continued on with his lecture, but of course the nakh and the lady weren’t done, smirking as they were.
The tail came down again, and again. Slap, slap, slap.
The human lady began moving her arms to that same beat. It was only midway through his next sentence when the equine shook his head and tried to stand up. But they weren’t done. She got up and accosted him with those arms, and she soon found accosting wasn’t enough, for she started gyrating in circles around him too. The nakh upped the tempo and tapped those claws to a second beat, then whooped as nearby tables joined in. Adventurers began raising their glasses.
“To dying to a Classless!”
“Down she goes!”
The lady laughed and pranced around the equine, singing a song that was an atrocious insult to the beat, no rhythm or rhyme matching, but she sang it anyways. Others joined in. The farmboy heard the nakh say, “Vladas knew he was a magician!” but it was lost in all the voices and songs.
The receptionists glanced over, and returned to their work.
The equine blew air out of his muzzle and stared into space, seeming deaf to the chaos revolving around him. Then, out of nowhere, he grabbed the lady mid-step. She laughed louder than any other, and he proceeded to sweep her up in a truly spectacular waltz as the onlookers hollered and got out of their chairs too.
The nakh tossed pieces of noodle onto them.
Then the Branch turned into a food fight.
These folk are crazy folk.
----------------------------------------
Karra
The onlookers chattered behind their hands as Karra passed by, heading for the entrance.
It was likely that those bovines with nothing to do but gossip already had more names for her: Stalkerfood Karra, or Karra the Lost. They always did, after one of her messes. And what had happened two nights ago was more than a mess, but a catastrophe, and so perhaps they would whisper more than just names.
But now, she had Rosemary and Lepius on her mind. Those whispers were not as loud as they were before.
She had friends now.
A gaggle of calves tore through the beaten dirt before them, and she bopped a few on their noses as they rushed past the gate. It was probably the tallest thing in camp. The gate marked the only entrance through the wooden palisade, and two guardsmen flanked it - the bravest bovines in the clan. Gadok and Munar. They even wore steel, man-made armour, with sharp iron to pierce flesh.
At one look at her they barred the gate.
Munar said, “Sorry, Karra. We can’t let you out.”
She shrunk backwards under their gaze.
“W-what do you mean I’m not allowed out?”
He turned to look at Gadok, but the other bovine stared at her, silent, so he said, “Tonho has yet to return. He’s most certainly alive, the lad’s too wily for any monster. But the clan elders have decided it to be best for him to determine if you are worthy of going outside again. After all, bovine duty. You know. So please, turn back. I’m sorry… it’s just the way it is, Karra.”
“B-but- but-”
Her eyes widened when Gadok cut her off, his voice sharp.
“How about I make this easy, Bovine Karra? You can’t leave the perimeter. Last time you did, you were almost killed. Need I remind you of the Stalkerwolf?”
She wilted a little. She had really wanted to show Mother the most bizarre tree and the kindest people, but if it was to be so, then – hang on, why was she collapsing so easily? Last night, a lady thinner than her had waged war upon the Carralan Forest. And she had won.
Now, here she was, unable to argue to see her friends?
Have I always been like this, so submissive and put down with just a single sentence?
Outside, she saw the elderly and even pregnant strolling about, arms intertwined as they enjoyed the things she couldn’t, and she wondered where that Karra two nights ago went, that Karra that stopped a dryad man mid-sentence and denied herself the easy way to her father.
And that made her think of Lepius.
He and Rosemary were probably doing something so fun right now, like swinging from the branches hanging low under the Grove Hospes, or splashing in the stream that flowed underneath. They were probably laughing. And, at least once, they must have looked at each other and said: “Oh, how I wished Karra were here with us.”
She set her jaw. Her mother was tugging on her arm, but it was blundering out of her now.
“Need I remind you? Where were you, asleep in your tent with your steel while I was running for my life?”
She clapped a hand to her mouth after it charged out, hoping to trap it back in, but the words had already struck the guards. Behind her, her mother’s breath hitched. Did she… did she just raise her voice, fight back? The guards glanced at each other, then scratched their heads, not sure what to do with a bovine that actually defied them.
But her mother did. She pulled her away from the gate, whispering the words that set her shoulders at ease.
“Come on, my dear. Relax, hush. You’ve got a bit of my temper in you, haven’t you?”
Karra blushed, “I… I-I didn’t mean to… I-I didn’t think I’d say something like that.”
“Okay… okay, deep breaths, baby. There’s no need to point fingers.”
Bit by bit, her heart slowed. She managed a glance back to the guards, who were whispering in her direction, and she looked away after locking eyes with them.
Her heart returned to normal, but it still ached.
Rosemary… Lepius…
And she knew that more of those words were waiting just underneath, waiting to leap out of her and deliver her to the two she thought of most. But there were two things stopping them. Those two wore armour, and were named Gadok and Munar.
They wouldn’t yield under normal circumstances, so she needed a plan, didn’t she?
Force wouldn’t work. So… already she was casting her eyes about: at the tall palisade, at the ground underneath, and finally at the calves that were playing in a pool of muddy water. The calves. Didn’t Rosemary mention something that night about the…
Her eyes narrowed.
And what came to her was so clever, so devious, she almost forgot that for her entire life, people called her Silly Karra and clumsy, because everything was going to go according to plan.
“Did I mention… there’s a water slide at this place?”
Indeed she had, but most of the little ones had been asleep when she had arrived that morning. Her voice wandered like a siren’s call to the calves, and they perked up.
They rushed around her, yipping and scattering mud, “Water slide? Water slide!”
“Yes, yes, and it’s so tall, you can see all across the forest! You go down, and up and sideways all at once!” and with every direction she listed, her voice rose and rose, calling them to imagination, “and you go so fast, it feels you’re flying!”
There was no need for more.
The two guards could hold her back, but they held no chance against a flood of calves after their shouts spread across the camp. She had sent out the call, and here was the answer. Little hooves trampled up the dirt as they tore after her, the harbinger of joy and waterslides!
She strode through the open gates, head held high to observe the chaos around her. She did not even deign a look at one of the guardsmen, whatever his name was, trampled over by the calves and struggling to get up. No. This was her day.
She punched the sky with a fist.
“Wa Ter Slide! Wa Ter Slide!”
And the plains were awash with her chant.
Clanspeakers arrived to corral the horde, then parents to snatch up their calves and calm them down. But the slippery little things screamed, wriggled, and fought them off, and for once the bovine lack of experience in anything related to force projection was a boon.
They were losing, and Karra knew what to do. She was a loser, after all.
She started running south, and with every breath she split the air in her lungs in half, half for her legs, and half to continue the chant: “Wa Ter Slide!” The calves screamed and followed her. Then she was laughing, and she didn’t bother to turn her head to watch the adults curse and call for the elders, who shook their fists at her retreating form and pronounced all hope lost.
She could tell as much when she heard the rumble of hundreds of bovines afoot. The herd was stretching its legs. It was too late to do anything now – half the camp was already outside, and now adding on the calves?
This was a Karra-level mess… no, catastrophe.
Mages lifted protective mana spells, guards tore down palisades, and the elders sent out scouts ahead to clear the way for the calves. And of course, every parent was chasing after her. All of them, except for her mother, who was wearing her most dumbfounded look.
Tonho was a brief memory forgotten.
At her command, she had roused the herd. The Weavergrass Clan was moving, and it was moving fast.
Moving to the Grove Hospes.
----------------------------------------
Bendeit
Sergeant Bendeit cursed as a tree root grabbed onto him.
They had not reached the target yet, despite being deployed since morning. Even while taking the path the Scoutsworns had marked as ‘best suited for infantry’, someone was always tripping over or getting lost, and they had to stop often to regain formation. And it wasn’t just his men to blame, too.
It was this whole cursed forest.
He shook off another vine clawing at him. Behind him, his five hundred whispered.
“Are… are we fighting the tree-thing monster? I heard it’s a Classless.”
“Don’t be stupid, Franc. It’s… probably just a handful of bandits.”
“All five hundred of us, the best, for bandits?”
He gritted his teeth. His men knew better to whisper like this, in the middle of enemy territory, or any territory for that matter. Maybe he should’ve stopped the formation for a reminder on doctrine.
Deity knew they needed it.
But he would not. Conduct demanded him to keep his face high and facing ahead, stoic, the very picture of the Deity’s perfect warrior. Nothing would escape his control. Well, his left eye had twitched that one time a guardsman fell over with a clang, but that was disappointing. These were his handpicked, trained Swordsworn.
They would all be doing wall runs when they returned, that was for sure.
He cursed again as a root grabbed onto his boots, and he almost lost his balance. He crunched it underfoot and looked around at the trees blocking their way, the branches ready to smack a soldier’s helmet, the shrubbery with it’s many, many hands. All reaching for them.
They should have torched this place a long time ago.
No doubt the whispers of that evil tree were true: already the putrid miasma of that beast had spread into the forest, the very one where their children played in during summers. This was unacceptable. They should have brought a priest, one from the Lesser House at the very least, for their steel wouldn’t be able to cure evil alone.
Faith did.
Some vile influence was permeating through the air now, tickling his nose, and he barked a command on caution. His mana was a shining grey. The formation halted and crouched.
Three fingers in the air. Brace.
Slower, and with shields raised, they crept east. They were, as it were, also moving towards it.
Towards the Grove Hospes.