Theo could hardly think about breakfast the next morning. Despite Xam’s amazing cooking, his mind was firmly placed on the date. It was the twentieth day of the Season of Fire. The day when the expedition to the lizard-islands was scheduled to return. The alchemist knew that his excitement was an emotion belonging to Tresk. Her thoughts seemed centered entirely on her ancestors. The chain of islands that held her people was isolationist, according to Fenian.

There were several things to be concerned about with the alliance’s first contact. They could react poorly to outsiders coming in, even if it was lost kin. Theo busied himself with his breakfast, focusing on the way things could go right. If he allowed his thoughts to linger on how things could go wrong, he would fall into a spiral. It was best to stay on top of those things.

“What do you think they call themselves?” Tresk asked.

Theo lazily speared a sausage with his fork, shrugging. “The lizard-folk? Not sure.”

“Humantiles,” Tresk said, nodding with resolute conviction. “Mantiles? I like that one better.”

“You just put the words ‘human’ and ‘reptile’ together. I don’t think an entire civilization would build their identity on that.”

“But they could!”

Theo busied himself with his administration reports, unable to keep his laughter back. Tresk gave him a sly look, nodding to herself with approval. There were a few things to note within the reports. Gronro needed more juice to fight the undead. That wasn’t surprising. They effectively got the means to keep the undead back for free. It wasn’t an arrangement the alchemist hated. Since the brave defenders in the north provided a protective curtain, he would pay any price.

As expected, the tactical maps and chat that Aarok had access to was on fire. The small fleet of boats they had in the bay had reported no activity that morning, so there was no reason to rush. Any attack on the town would take place on land, anyway. Theo skimmed through the messages, anyway. It was better to be prepared than to be caught with his pants down.

Xol’sa wrote a few complaints to the town about the monster waves. He had failed to check the schedule to see that the expedition was returning today. Instead of taking charge of his mistake, he blamed others. There was a tone of frustration in his complaints that resonated with Theo more than he cared to admit. The alchemist liked doing things when he wanted to do them, not on someone else’s schedule.

Tresk left with Alex and Fenian to join the militia. The Elven trader was well enough to stand. Anyone who would attack the town with him around was in for a surprise. Theo remained behind, sipping tea with Rowan and Sarisa for a while before heading out to talk with Salire. There were always orders in at the alchemy shop, and it wouldn’t hurt to get another batch of [Hallow Ground Essence] rolling for the day.

While it was difficult to handle the raw truffle, the alchemist was happy enough to let his apprentice take the wheel on this one. There were enough truffles in his stocks to supply Gronro for a while, so a bit of waste wasn’t bad. Salire needed the practice, anyway. Well, she needed to grind a ton of experience and practice her mana control. Unlike Theo, she hadn’t abandoned her dreams of becoming a shopkeeper. She still held that core in her chest, leveling it every day. Without the responsibilities of running a town, she was free to pursue that.

Before they headed off to the Newt and Demon, Theo lingered near the entrance of his manor. It was normally bustling with activity. That morning, it was cleared out. It was a kind of silence he didn’t know he hated. The alchemist left before more of the deafening sound could darken his day, heading off to meet with the bubbly Half-Ogre. She was, as always, excited to get to work. Rowan and Sarisa ran off to help with the assembling military while they prepared a fair amount of their [Swamp Truffle] stock.

The task was a simple one with so many stills. Thim and Throk’s modifications to the old design made things easier. The tube system running overhead made it easier still. Gone were the days of worrying about mixing two essences. The magic of the building took care of that, and the pair pulled flexible pipes down from the rafters. They attached them to the condenser’s outputs and activated the suction feature.

“Are you that worried about the envoy?” Salire asked.

Theo was standing over a table, carving out and enchanting several bone knives. He looked up from his work, tilting his head to the side as he thought about it. Being worried about everything kept him alive back on Earth. A paranoia that always rested below the surface, no matter how cool his countenance. “I’m worried about everything. So, yes. I’m worried about the lizard-folk. Do they even speak Qavelli?”

“You know more than just Qavelli, right?”

“Well, yeah. I hope they speak Bantari.”

“Hmmm. What are the chances of that?”

Wisdom of the Soul suggested that they might speak a sister-language of Bantari. That was based on Theo’s knowledge of the Marshling’s migration to the mainland. But if the boat returned from the islands, they made contact.

The work went on for a while before Theo was called into action. He made a few last-minute adjustments to the stills before handing it off to his assistant. The administration staff had assembled with some of the military staff in the harbor. Alise, Gwyn, and Gael representing the admins. Aarok, Luras, and Alran were there to represent the military staff. Azrug stood off to the side with Xol’sa, Zarali, and Fenian.

“The Cork reported to me a few minutes ago,” Alise said, bouncing on the spot. She was more excited than normal. “They reported that all is well on the deck. A few lizard-folk and our own people.”

“Good. Guess I was worried about nothing,” Theo said.

The group stood on the battlements on the harbor, looking over the canal and out into the bay. The Cork wasn’t even visible at that moment, but Theo would trust their reports for now. Tension, hanging in the air, broke after several minutes. In classic fashion, the Broken Tuskers got bored of being worried, breaking into small groups that chatted about the incoming lizard-folk. The alchemist sensed Tresk nearby, running around with the stealthers to do whatever it was they did. He guessed they were ranging around the canal, or down near the shore.

An hour passed with nothing happening. Then the advanced scouts reported sightings of their boat pushing through the bay. It was escorted by the Cork and one of their remaining merchant vessels. Theo finally got a look at the emissaries from the lizard-folk as the boat worked its way up the canal. Dressed in flowing robes of gold, a blue-skinned scaly lizard-person stood near the front. They were far taller than Marshlings. Almost as tall as a Half-Ogre or Dronon. Where a Marshling’s features reminded the alchemist of a salamander, or an axolotl, this lizard person looked more like a classic lizard. Blue scales, with greenish frills on their head that blew in the wind.

Sword at their hip, and a quarterstaff in hand, they struck an imposing image.

“Ready?” Alise asked.

“Damn. I’m supposed to give some kind of speech. Right?” Theo asked, rubbing his chin. “Do we know if they speak Qavelli?”

“I’m not sure,” Alise said, checking her notes.

Theo cleared his throat, descending the steps as the ships passed by underneath. He locked eyes with the lizard-person for a moment, then felt an intense pressure wash over him. It faded in a moment, but was still noticeable. The alchemist rolled his shoulders, then found his way to the dock. What few dockhands were left tended to the vessel, positioning and dropping a gang plank.

You got this, buddy, Tresk said, sensing his discomfort.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Fenian rested a comforting hand on the alchemist’s shoulder. He was just glad that the baby's arm was gone. “Make your opening statement in Bantari. This is Xquiq Akubae. A spiritual leader of the Saetalein Ya’ax.”

“Yeah, that would have been useful when we were eating breakfast.”

Fenian shrugged. “I didn’t know which one they would send.”

Theo took a deep breath as the majestic lizard-person descended the plank, attended by several other lizard-folk. He tried his best to keep his accent out of his speech, channeling some of Tresk’s knowledge. “Welcome to Broken Tusk and the Southlands Alliance. My name is Theo Spencer and I welcome you.”

Tresk was suddenly at his side, radiating a sense of extreme comfort.

“I accept your welcome,” Xquiq said with a shallow bow. “Xquiq Akubae Saetalein Ya’ax Nojoh.”

“Did he say his name was ‘Squeak’? I like it,” Tresk whispered.

The lizard-person emissary smiled, nodding to Tresk. “I am happy to be called ‘Squeak’ within your borders, lost sister.”

Squeak spoke perfect Bantari. Far better than Theo could manage on his own. A Wisdom of the Soul message popped up, providing the alchemist with a bit more information about the lizard-person. His name was Xquiq and he was from the city of Akubae. He was part of a subrace called the Najoh, which belonged to the Saetalein Ya’ax chain of islands to the south. The alchemist felt some familiarity with the style of those names, but it was a distant thing. As though he had seen similar text in a book a lifetime ago.

“Shall we discuss matters in private?” Theo offered, gesturing toward the town.

“Of course,” Squeak said with another shallow bow. “I hope my attendants can accompany me.”

“Absolutely. Do you need any snacks?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say no to snacks.”

“Rowan, could you get a cheese platter or something from Xam?” Theo asked, turning to locate his bodyguard. He couldn’t spot the Half-Ogre, but Gael stepped up to the plate.

Tresk joined by Theo and Squeak’s side as they walked the streets of Broken Tusk. The lizard-man’s guards lingered back with the administration staff, trailing close behind them.

“You caught us in a rare time of peace,” Squeak said, his lips curled. Theo suspected that was his attempt at a smile.

“Ah, well… We’re at war. I guess,” Theo said with a shrug. “I’m sure you heard about the undead.”

“Our seers have brought that to my attention. Although I hope you understand, I am not the leader of my people.”

“We’re just happy to make contact with the sons and daughters of Saetalein Ya’ax,” Tresk said, nodding eagerly.

“Is that so?” Squeak asked, raising one scaled brow. “Perhaps you’ll enjoy learning Yaxian. The local language.”

“Broken Tusk is very excited to take part in cultural exchanges. But I’ll be honest with you. We’re more interested in trade than anything else. Alliances with outside nations,” Theo said. The group was approaching the town hall.

Squeak clicked his tongue, then nodded. “That is understandable.”

Theo spotted the administration staff rushing up and down the staircases, clearly just having prepared a room on the third floor. The group ascended, finding themselves in a common meeting room. It gave them a pleasant view of the western gate and the surrounding businesses. Citizens went about their days as though it were any other. Unbothered by the envoy’s arrival. They all took their seats within the meeting room. Fenian, Azrug, Gwyn, and Gael all waited in the wings, leaving the meeting to Tresk, Theo, and Alise.

It was a curious thing watching Alise attend the meeting. She had prepared well for her meeting with the Yaxi people, but she had neglected to learn any Bantari. The administrator had a confused look on her face, but nodded along when anyone spoke.

“Forgive me if this is rude, great leader of Broken Tusk,” Squeak said, bowing his head toward the alchemist. “But why is it you wish to conduct trade? One doesn’t require a sa’tet to see you are well-off.”

Theo looked to Tresk. He didn’t understand one of those words.

“Uh… Well…” Tresk said in Qavelli. “High perch?”

That was good enough for Theo. He nodded as he understood the meaning. “Good observation. But we gained this position by being proactive. And some really favorable conditions. As much as we could provide you with important goods, you could do the same for us.”

“Well, I’m happy to hear that.”

A knock came at the door, then a procession of people carrying trays. Dried meats, cheeses, and flat Zee bread scattered across platters. They were arranged over the table neatly, and Squeak was immediately licking his lips. He was the first to reach over, grabbing both cheese and meat even before the porters left.

“You would have won me over with the cheese alone,” Squeak said, tossing a small brick of cheese into his mouth. He closed his eyes as he ate, finally letting out a heavy sigh as his eyes snapped open. “Before we talk trade, I would present you with an offer.”

“Please.”

“Open borders and a ferry that runs between our two lands.”

Theo turned to Alise, expecting her to object. He realized she couldn’t understand the man, so he repeated the offer.

“Oh, I don’t see a problem with that. I need to run it by Aarok, but every Bantari Marshling in town is talking about this meeting. This is a chance to exchange cultures that none have had in the past. Seems too good to pass up. Right?”

“Agreed,” Theo said in Qavelli. He switched to Bantari again. “We’re excited about that. We’re building out our fleet, but I’m sure we can use the boats for a double-purpose. Trade and passengers shouldn’t be a problem.”

“And you’ll skip across the ocean quicker with our assistance,” Squeak said, smiling. “Not through magic or technology. We fished the coast of the mainland in the past. We know the best routes.”

“We cede to your wisdom,” Theo said, laughing.

“Alright. We’re best friends now,” Tresk said, drumming her fingers on the table. “I need to know. Do people like me still exist in Saetalein?”

Squeak gave her a heart-warming smile. Even with his lizard-like features, there was a warmness that radiated forth. “They are called Wotox. They are similar to the Bantari in both appearance and language. Which is why we are able to have this meeting, I suppose.”

Tresk and Squeak spoke about unimportant things for quite some time. The envoy of the lizard-folk was happy to go on about his homeland. The Marshling wouldn’t stop asking stupid questions, and he wouldn’t stop answering them. But Theo let them go on for as long as they wanted. He knew that she needed this. It was always just under the surface for her.

And it was strange to consider how close those islands were. Somehow, the Yaxian people remained cloistered. It wasn’t as though they were entirely uncontacted, they just didn’t like hanging out with other peoples. But the Bantari weren’t just some random group of Humans, Elves, or Ogres. They were descendants of the Wotox.

Squeak let his eyes drag between Theo and Tresk, a smile resting on his face. “You must have expected me to ask this,” he said, chomping another piece of cheese. “How did you achieve the Tara’hek bond?”

Theo and Tresk shared a look, trying not to let the surprise they felt bleed into their expressions. This was the question that had lingered in the alchemist’s mind. Surely the progenitors of the Bantari race should know more about it. He didn’t need his Wisdom of the Soul messages to let him know Squeak was being truthful. Better to weasel his way out of the question.

“We don’t know how it happened. Well, I suppose we felt it,” Theo said. “After that, it was easy to establish the Tara’hek.”

Squeak leaned in. “And that realm I’m feeling?” he asked, sniffing the air. “It is a heady mixture of mortal and godly scents.”

“That’s more complicated,” Theo said.

Squeak smiled once again. “No matter. There have been several Tara’hek bonds within the jungles. My people record their histories. Down to their daily activities. Those who hold the bond are considered sacred. You must be familiar with Bah’at.”

“The Twins,” Tresk said, filling in the gaps of Theo’s knowledge. “We’ve heard of them. That’s about it.”

“Rising to godhood with the bond is said to be difficult. But those two managed. Perhaps you’ll make it there one day.” Squeak suddenly clapped his hands together. “Right. Let us talk about trade.”

Theo left the room, inviting Azrug and Fenian in to take over. Tresk was going to stay behind to play interpreter. The alchemist had learned long ago to leave all things related to trade to those more capable. He had been criticized for his trade skills in the past, and didn’t care to endure more of the teasing. He met with Rowan and Sarisa outside of the meeting room.

“He seems nice,” Theo said. “His people want to reconnect with the lost Bantari. To have some kind of cultural exchange program. Anything shady out here?”

Rowan grunted.

“Fenian would have detected it,” Sarisa said. “But, no. He brought like four people total. Hardly an invasion force.”

“Depends on the level of the invader, I guess. Alright. I’m going to help Salire with this order for Gronro. Let me know if I’m needed.”

Rowan and Sarisa nodded as the alchemist departed. The meeting with Squeak was more pleasant than he had expected. All the nervousness about making a good impression vanished in an instant. They just wanted to have a line of communication with the lost Bantari. It didn’t pass his notice, though. The interest Squeak took in Tero’gal. But that seemed benign.

“Oh, man,” Theo said to himself. “What about a maglev over the ocean?”

Deep in concentration in his artificer’s workshop, Throk felt a shiver run up his spine.