The boys returned to Feathervale as victors. They had won not only a battle but destroyed a heavy siege engine. Which said nothing of the many units of war material destroyed in the process or the hundreds of automotrons put to the blade.

Yet Zan, walking into the rebel camp, did not feel like a victor.

He felt like a loser.

No one ran to greet him or Jiehong; the rebels went out of their way to avoid them — Zan saw how they watched them approach and then avoided their gaze; even the sky, normally awash in colors and the many gods far above, cast itself in shadow.

“Did something happen?” Zan asked Jiehong.

“Don’t take it personally, Zan. We’re not rebels,” Jiehong replied.

“Yeah, but… we fought with Whiskey twice now. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“I am sure many of them have their suspicions about us regardless of Whiskey’s vouching. She is not the end-all commander of the rebels. From what I’ve seen, a fair few of these rebels don’t even like Whiskey as a commander.” Adding almost as an afterthought, Jiehong said, “I wonder how she even made the rank?”

Zan didn’t know. Per the norm.

“I’m too tired to care right now. Let’s just find a bed somewhere.”

About to cross over into town, Jiehong said, “Actually, let’s find a cot with the rebels. Or a place near the rebels.”

“What? Why?” Zan asked, getting somewhat upset over his dreams of a nice bed being interrupted.

“We should keep our sleeping schedules as normal as possible. It is early morning now. If we get a bed at the inn, we’ll be asleep all day. Then, when we awake, it will be night.

As tempting as it is to make our battles at night, that isn’t realistic for us. Not when everyone else is fighting by the day and especially not when the enemy fights by day. So instead of getting a room, we should opt for a nap to bring us to the early afternoon. Then we can return to the command center and plan the next step in our campaign. You said you needed to drop off the list to that contact of yours, right?” Jiehong explained at length.

The thoroughness of Jiehong’s response caught Zan off-guard. It was so unexpected; he had nothing to say about it. He nodded and said, “True. All true. I do have that list to give to Luxley. Nearly forgot…”

“Great! See? There is logic to my madness. Upper class or not. We should see about finding Whiskey for a bed.”

The two searched but found nothing in the immediate camp. Zan groaned. “Where is she?”

“Wait… where are the rebels?” Zan asked.

Standing in the morning gloom, neither boy realized they had seen any rebel since several strong minutes ago. It was as though each had slid away to the dark spaces hidden in plain sight. Looking around at an empty encampment, Zan thought, ‘Did the rebels abandon their camp?’

The answer to ‘what happened?’ to the rebels came as a thunderous bolt.

A scream pierced the veil. “CHARGE!”

Zan didn’t know what to do or what was happening. Were they under attack? Did the automotrons learn how to speak? Why would they shout ‘charge’ if they learned how to speak? These and other more irrational thoughts jumbled together in his mind.

Jiehong had to take over executive command for a moment. He grabbed hold of Zan and brought them to the tree-line and into the bunch. “The trees will keep us safe,” he said. Zan was practically a doll; he allowed things to happen to him because of the clouded mental state forced on him by the exhaustion. His mind raced. Yet rarely did anything of importance come out of his mind when he got this way.

Dazed or not, this did not stop the altercation.

Ahead of them and to the side was the town gate. The boys could see a mass of rebel figures storm the bridge and overwhelm the posted guards.

It was difficult to see from their vantage point, but it did not look as though the rebels had any bladed weapons drawn. Jiehong, creasing his head, muttered, “are those pole-arms fitted with shovelheads?” Zan didn’t know and concentrated instead on what was going on… which wasn’t much he could see from the treeline.

“Don’t you think we should help?” Zan said.

“What do you mean ‘help’?” Jiehong said. “You don’t mean help the rebels?”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Zan paused. “Maybe? Maybe not… more like, help make sure the situation doesn’t spiral out of control?”

It was Jiehong’s turn to pause and consider. A minute or more passed before he spoke. “Not a bad idea. But not our conflict either, Zan. Shouldn’t we be getting to Thundervale? If Feathervale is not an option, then Thundervale is our next best bet.”

Jiehong made a good point. Plus, he was tired as crap on a shit an animal left to bake in the hot sun. How much help would he really be in a high-intensity situation like this?

Little, he reasoned. And yet, Zan found himself propelled forward.

“Really, buddy?! Really?!” Jiehong yelled behind him.

“We can act as peacekeepers if the fighting gets out of hand,” Zan said.

“Peacekeepers. Right!”

Sarcasm aside, Zan meant what he said.

Rushing through the gates, they saw many instances of situations needing a peaceful hand. Rebels had taken the royal guard by surprise and given them an old-fashioned whooping. Melee brawls were taking place everywhere they turned.

“Looks like tame fighting to me,” Jiehong said, observing a few fistfights.

“I guess,” Zan reluctantly admitted. Jiehong was right. The fights, although violent, were not looking like they were lethal. In fact, observing the several nearby altercations, Zan heard much more screaming of opinions than the exchange of fists. Taken together, the fighting and the screaming, it looked worse than it actually was; one expected blood. Instead, Zan saw mud.

“Let’s mosey on by,” Zan said to Jiehong.

Carefully, the two avoided the battles taking place in the street as they slid through the battling parties. No matter where Zan and Jiehong went in Feathervale, they saw the same sight as at the front gate. Plus a few game birds who were wandering.

As soon it seemed, as their foray into this incident began, it ended.

Led by Whiskey, a group of rebels flew past them on the street. They were carrying many chests and things which looked like weapons. Pursued by royal guard, Whiskey’s troup did not stop to make small talk with them. Although, once they passed, I saw the pursuing guard group ambushed by several cloaked figures from an alleyway. The cloaked figures tactfully unbuckled the guards’ suits and weapon attachments, causing their fan-like ‘spear tips,’ blunted and non-lethal as they were, to fall to the ground.

Nearly naked and without defense, the guards fled.

“Let’s go,” Zan said, directing Jiehong back outside the town.

“What in the heck was that?!” Jiehong said.

“Is it… a counterraid?” Zan said.

Jiehong thought. “What?” he said, unable to place it.

“Before the construction site raid. Remember? The city guards raided the rebel camp. Remember a rebel screaming, ‘RAID!’?”

It took Jiehong a moment. He said, “Oh, yeah. I do. A counter-raid, then? Makes sense. Whiskey leading a counter-raid. I doubt she will be joining our Order any time soon, then, yeah?”

“Probably not. But she will. Eventually…”

Back within the rebel camp again and searching for Whiskey while fighting continued inside the town, it did not take them very long to find the woman they were looking for, seeing as how her admirers surrounded her, gleefully boasting of their efforts.

Needing to speak several times before their notice was caught, Zan said, “You’ve been busy… what’s all this?”

Whiskey gave orders to her men. Some of the joviality broke, though Whiskey remained in a good mood. “Nothing you should worry yourselves over, guys. Let’s speak over here.”

The trio went to a nearby shelter away from the limits of either the town or camp.

“Geez! You guys look awful. Haven’t you gotten any sleep since the operation?” Whiskey asked, deflecting.

“No… we were on our way back. What is happening, Whiskey?” Zan answered and asked.

“What’s happening? A rebel action is what’s happening. The royal guard raided us recently. We raided them back,” Whiskey said.

“But… why?” Zan asked.

“Because it is a civil dispute? Do you not understand the idea of a conflict? Of civic warfare?”

Zan attempted to understand, but he did not. “We only wanted to help. Make sure things didn’t get out of hand.”

“Why? Things are very civil here, everything considered,” Whiskey said. “Are you worried about death? Killing?”

“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t we be?” Zan replied, Jiehong shaking his head alongside.

“Don’t you guys know the basics? Holy Law?” Whiskey asked.

“Basics…?” Both boys asked.

Zan found it increasingly hard to focus. His eyes were heavy with gravity, with falling desire. Zan talking to Whiskey, now, did nothing to help his lids, which only grew more desperate now they had seen the extent of the fighting and proved it was no huge matter. Not for them, anyway.

“You guys need a run-down on the basics of holy law? What did you learn in that humdrum village of yours? At least my tiny home had a priest. Frick… sorry, guys, but I don’t have the time to tell you the whole story.”

“Give us the quick facts, then,” Jiehong said.

“Okay. I can do that. Essentially, it is like this: the gods rule the world you guys live in and have a family in. These gods are the same gods you see floating in the sky, right? Gods set up what they call ‘holy laws,’ which all life-forms must follow. Grave consequences follow for life-forms which do not follow the law… but that is totally irrelevant right now. And besides the point. Life-Forms usually cannot break holy law, anyway. Point is! One holy law is that we cannot kill — by any means — another living, breathing person. Therefore, if we have differences with those who lord over us, we cannot kill them, just as they cannot kill us. The sort of thing you guys have been seeing, with the raids, yes, is part of a kind of conflict resolution called Eraferaw. Using this method, people and governments can make their wills be known while still adhering to holy law. Get it?”

“I guess…” Zan said. “I have so many questions, though…”

“I am sure you do. I can’t stand here and answer your questions, though. I have my rebels to attend to and my own missions to do.”

Not giving Zan a chance to respond, Jiehong said, “We understand. Thank you for talking to us. We will talk to you again hopefully soon, okay?”

“I will look forward to that. Until then, boys,” Whiskey said and then walked back to the rebel camp.

“Feel tired?” Jiehong asked, alone again.

“Yes. But also no. Let’s find a rebel cot and get a nap in. Then… back to the command center.”

“I love the sound of that,” Jiehong said.

Sleeping unwell in a cot on a ground was not the best way to rest. Though Zan did fall asleep for a couple of hours, once he was up, he did not bother going back to sleep. With Jiehong in the same boat, they made their march back to the command center, somehow feeling more lethargic than before.