"So we have three basic guidelines," Gzoh said from where they sat behind Jay, "Don’t harm people, don’t trade in gold, and don’t marry or have kids within your own clan or your parent’s clan. Anyone who follows these rules to the best of their ability can call themself Ufriq."

Jay nodded in understanding. Their caravan of two raptors and three people had departed in the early hours of the morning, setting off for Two Crosses, and Gzoh had seized the opportunity to teach them about their new responsibilities in a more formal fashion. After taking a nap, of course.

"So I get the first two," Jay replied, "But why the third? And what about Dumuzid?"

Gzoh shifted uncomfortably. It was a rather impressive feat given that she was crammed behind Jay on Tufaha’s back, a position that left little squirming room.

"Well, when we first came to Loerma clans were hereditary," Gzoh explained, "And children are still very likely to be of the same clan as one of their parents."

She trailed off, but Jay understood. Incest was terrible and to be avoided, it was not surprising that the Ufriq would impose rules to prevent it. Especially given how insular they were. Some high noble houses dealt with a similar problem, lack of good marriage options, and solved it by ignoring the problem entirely and being depraved perverts instead.

Jay nodded in understanding, and Gzoh moved on hurriedly.

"As for Dumuzid, that is a bit more complicated," Gzoh explained, "There is no formal rule that states we must worship him, he expressly forbade such a rule in fact. He is dead half the year, and taught us the basics of forging consensus in his absence, but most of our traditions we developed ourselves.

"Unlike the other gods, many of whom care little for mortal cultures and squabbles, he is interested in us and our ways. Enough that we can ask him for more than most holies would even dream of asking their benefactors. And if the divine speaks, who are we to disregard their advice?"

Jay was hit by a sudden, vivid memory of how they had treated Amber in Pleurian. Who are we, indeed? They flushed and looked away.

Gzoh realized she had struck a nerve. She cut off her explanation with a fake cough, then pretended to look at the scenery for a bit. It was dull, just snow and trees and low hills exactly like those the larger caravan had been trekking through for nearly two weeks now.

"Finally!" Jeshin called from up ahead, "I spotted the road just to the left of that hill there. We’ll move much faster along it."

Good. Time was of the essence.

"How much farther to the city?" Jay called back.

"About three days, two if we are lucky and the snow either sticks around or thaws without leaving too much ice," Jeshin said, "From the maps I’ve seen it’s just over a hundred leagues from here, and these mounts are fast."

Fast indeed. This ride was different from the one Gzoh had taken them on when first catching up to the caravan. Back then it had merely been one of the best experiences of Jay’s life, but now that they had bit of skill they realized it had been a comparatively slow and plodding affair.

Jeshin set a truly blistering pace, and Tufaha relished the challenge of keeping up with Kitambaa. The raptors took long, powerful strides and breathed great gulping breaths. Within minutes Tufaha had worked up enough heat that Jay could feel it even through their new winter clothing, and each breath rumbled through the raptor like a distant peal of thunder. Then the creatures just stayed like that, running hot and fast, for hours.

By the time the sun touched the treetops and Jeshin called a halt the trio had covered a distance Jay would be proud to walk in a week and passed three separate trading caravans along the way. They had not bothered to stop and talk to any of them, though a couple of people shouted in greeting or bewilderment as they practically flew by.

They did not even stop to let the raptors drink. Jay had asked Gzoh about that a few hours in, but the creatures apparently did not need to.

Jeshin spent an age picking out a place to make camp for the night. She muttered to herself, something about sight lines and ambushes, but Jay was too excited from the ride to care much about the delay.

As soon as Jeshin pointed out a specific bit of dirt that looked just like every other bit of dirt Jay hopped off Tufaha, eager to set up camp, and promptly collapsed to the ground with a surprised yelp. It took them a few bewildering, terrifying moments to realize that they were not under attack and that their legs had simply seized from sitting in one place for too long and buckled under their weight.

Jay flushed in embarrassment.

Jeshin laughed at their predicament from atop Kitambaa. She gave them a cruel grin then dismounted with practiced ease and made a point to help Gzoh down from Tufaha. The peace speaker wobbled but stayed upright, which was downright unfair. She was twice Jay’s age, and Haco aged faster than Rhin besides.

"I haven’t ridden like that in near a decade," Gzoh said, "It’s more terrifying than it used to be."

She glanced over at Jay. Their legs were, thankfully, beginning to listen to them again. They were also beginning to cramp, which was deeply unpleasant.

"Don’t worry, Jay," Gzoh said, "You will get your riding legs sooner than you realize. Just staying in the saddle today is an impressive accomplishment. Jeshin pushed us too hard."

"Jay said time was of the essence, so I acted like time was of the essence," Jeshin said with a lazy shrug, "It’s not my fault they are too stubborn to call for a rest when they need one."

Gzoh glowered.

"Well, if you want us to keep this pace tomorrow..."

"Yes, yes," Jeshin interrupted, "The raptors need food, I know. A lot of it. And sleep. Which is why I’ll be right back."

She took out a sling from her pack and jogged off into the woods. As soon as she was out of eyesight, Jay collapsed back to the ground and let out a soft groan. The cramping had died down but they were still sore all over, even in some muscles they had not known they had. They wanted to pass out from exhaustion and sleep until morning, but they still had work to do.

Jeshin had just, literally, up and left them the busywork of setting up the tents, preparing a fire, and cooking the human’s evening meal.

Great.

Was it not her job to protect them? What would happen if something attacked? She could at least help them with the camp chores.

Jay supposed that hunting could count as a chore as well, but as chores went it could not be much of one. Nobles did it for sport, even! And nobles wanted nothing to do with even the most minor of inconveniences.

"That woman," Jay said with conviction, "Is terrible."

Gzoh tutted in disagreement then shambled over to the packs and got out a tent. Jay sighed.

They rested a minute, then got to work.

PIC [https://scythiamarrow.org/archive/SplinterGuard/Art/SectionMarkerJay.png]

Jay grimaced in disgust as the fourth bit of firewood they found crumbled to dust at their touch. The night was moonless and dark, pitch black, with even the stars veiled by thin bands of clouds. They cut the sky overhead like chains did the flesh of the impressed, those swept up from Varmyr’s ports in times of war and bound in service to the navy’s oars.

That fate haunted Jay. It stole their dreams and stalked their hopes, whispering from within every shade and around every corner. It was the destination of all unproductive idiots in the republic. And Jay was so very, very stupid.

The chains tightened, and the sky bled black ichor. The drops looked small from afar, but grew terrifyingly large as they approached the treetops.

The blood rained down around Jay with force enough to smash trees to kindling and leave deep gouges in the ground. Jay looked on in horror as things moved within the pits. Skeletal things, with pitted eyes and grasping hands. They bore chains, and ran towards Jay. To bind them, to drag them away.

Run! Jay told themself, Oh Anu, run!

Jay looked around frantically for a place to flee to, but they could not see the caravan. Jeshin was gone, she had abandoned them, and the things were right there, and Jay tried to run but their legs sank in the beach sand, and they tried to plead for their freedom but their uncle did not listen, and the creatures bound them and stabbed them with daggers, Jeshin’s dagger, straight in their heart, again and again and again and again and they died.

Jay’s eyes snapped open. They were lying in the camp, in their tent. They heard the faint cracking of the fire from where it danced just outside the tent flaps.

I didn’t scream, Jay thought That’s good. Progress. Uncle Seper would be proud of me.

Seper would not have been proud of them. He was never proud of them. But it helped to pretend, even if the bastard was long dead.

Jay tried to go drift off again, but sleep eluded them. It always did after they had a nightmare. This one had been a bad one, one in which they died, which Jay supposed made sense.

They had not had a chance to fully digest the battle, feed their cowardice and inaction into their mantra and extract the lessons they needed to learn from it. So their memories of that night just sat there, terrors in their mind that Jay did not have the strength to analyze and that were too vivid to forget.

Even thinking about those sounds; the clash of distant fighting, that roaring of flames and thumps on the wagon door, the screams; sent waves of fear through them.

Their mantra was roaring, insistent, demanding that they look, that they be better, that they truly understood that Jeshin had nearly died for them and Jay did not help her and that was inexcusable. It told them to remember what it felt like to be powerless, to be cowardly, how that hurt people, and to engrave those facts into their very soul so that they never made those mistakes again.

Jay refused to do that, Jay could not bear to do that, not while the memories were so fresh, so their mantra told them to die.

But they had a mission now, and could not risk it for the petty, selfish satisfaction of hurting themself.

I wish I could cry, Jay thought, Having a sobbing fit would at least give me something mildly productive to do. Cleans the sinuses.

Instead Jay endured, doing nothing, and after a half hour their mantra died down to its normal dull rumble. Experience told them that tomorrow would be a bad day, but perhaps a midnight snack would help. They left the tent to search for some dried fruits.

"You’re up awfully early," Jeshin observed.

She sat with her back to the fire, keeping a careful watch. Her speech was slightly slurred from the swelling in her cheek.

"Or awfully late," She continued, "Nightmare?"

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Jay grunted Jeshin’s "I don’t want to talk about it" grunt and began searching through their pack. Surely they had an emergency packet somewhere?

Apparently not.

All they found were some stale crackers, which Jay guessed were better than nothing. They sat down next to the fire and stared into the flames, watching the branches release their hard-won phlogiston.

"It helps to talk about it, you know," Jeshin said, "I take it this was your first battle?"

Jay grunted, in negation this time.

"Second battle, then," Jeshin said, "The second one’s the worst. One battle is a calamity that you can forget ever happened. Three and you start getting used to it. But two? I was a wreck for months after my second. I almost looked forward to my third, just to get over the paranoia. Fool me."

Jay stared into the flames. They were normal flames. Normal was nice.

"Go to sleep, Jay," Jeshin said, "We have a long day tomorrow."

"And you don’t?" Jay countered, "I can keep watch, you should at least get your second sleep."

"You aren’t a soldier," Jeshin said, "So no, you can’t keep watch. An enemy would slit your throat before you even knew what was happening."

"If an enemy was around they would have killed me when you abandoned us to traipse around the forest looking at bunnies," Jay spat.

Jeshin raised an eyebrow at them. Her back was still to Jay, so they couldn’t see it, but they could feel that eyebrow raise all the same.

Jay glanced over at the raptors, who were sleeping soundly next to a small pile of rabbit bones, bellies distended from the food.

"You and Gzoh were alert and aware at the time. And I was out scouting, not ’looking at bunnies’" Jeshin said, "If by some miracle something got past me I trust you enough to call for help and stall a potential enemy until I got back.

"Or you could throw plumbing facts at them until they died of boredom."

Apparently Jeshin had not appreciated Jay’s detailed explanation of Joinder’s plumbing systems and associated history. That should not have been surprising to them, no one appreciated it when they babbled, but it still hurt.

"Oh yea, call for help, great idea" Jay said, voice cracking, "Making noise is a perfect reaction to being robbed by bandits. Not at all likely to get me stabbed."

Jeshin finally looked away from her watch and gave Jay a flabbergasted stare.

"Just jump up and down a few times," Jeshin said, "Duh."

Oh right. Jeshin always placed a tracker on them when they left her sight. Jay kept forgetting about that.

"Well, oh genius tactician," Jay said, "You forgot to account for one thing in your plan. I’m a complete idiot."

Jeshin seemed about to make a retort, another of her cutting jibes, but stopped herself and looked back towards the trees.

"You aren’t an idiot Jay," Jeshin said instead, voice soft, "far from it. You would have figured it out if pressed. That’s just your exhaustion speaking; get some sleep."

She was obviously just humoring them, but Jay decided to take her advice anyway. Better to feel terrible and halfway rested tomorrow than terrible and tired. They shuffled back to their tent and collapsed into a dreamless sleep.

PIC [https://scythiamarrow.org/archive/SplinterGuard/Art/SectionMarkerJay.png]

The next day was, indeed, shit. Jay was hurt, and tired. Not physically tired, or even mentally tired, but that deep spiritual tiredness that haunted them after a bad day. Their entire body ached, and they could barely summon up the energy to get out of their bed and help Gzoh strike the camp.

Jeshin napped through the morning chores. Typical.

"Jay! Stop staring at your girlfriend and fill the waterskins," Gzoh snapped, "I’m sure you think she’s pretty but we need to get going soon if we want to get to the city before dark."

Jay shuffled off to do as they were told. They found a brook a small distance from the camp and tested its temperature. The water was cold enough it was probably safe to drink without boiling it first, but Jay was not entirely sure. They tried to summon the willpower to boil it anyway just to be careful but fell short.

Fuck it, Jay thought, If it’s unsafe maybe I’ll get sick enough Amber will find someone more competent for the quest.

They touched Amber’s gem where it rested in their pocket. As usual, it gave them no answers.

Jay had forgotten the skins. They shuffled back to camp, grabbed the skins, filled them at the brook, then shuffled back again. By the time Jay finished Gzoh was nearly done making morning sausages and potato hash. Fancy.

She packed up a few bits so that Jeshin could eat on the road, then offered Jay their portion. Jay was not hungry, so they just stared at the outstretched bowl until Gzoh became uncomfortable enough to put it aside.

"Are you feeling okay today?" Gzoh asked, "You look sick. And you haven’t grumbled about Jeshin even once."

It was that obvious? Of course it was, Jay had gotten too comfortable with Gzoh. That was dangerous.

"I’m fine," Jay lied, "Just tired. And stop trying to get me to like Jeshin. She’s terrible."

"Force of habit, sorry," Gzoh said in an utterly unapologetic way, "I need to remember I’m not a peace speaker anymore."

She ate her food in silence, and Jay stared into the distance. The forest was still the same boring expanse of shallow hills, trees, dirt, and snow without any hint of human habitation. No land markers, no mushroom spots, no gardens. Just a lifeless and barren expanse for leagues upon leagues.

The Caeth had made their home here, once, but all that was left of them were great swaths of depleted soil and crumbling ruins infested with monsters. Now Varmyr claimed the land, if only because no one else had bothered.

"Why are you okay?" Jay found themself asking, "The caravan was attacked, dozens died, some of them permanently for all we know. And yet you practically threw a going away party for us the very next day. I don’t get it."

Gzoh deliberately cleaned her bowl with some water and a rag, then her hands, and packed the utensils away before answering.

"I am okay because of the trust I hold in those I love," Gzoh finally said, "If our diviners say that our kin are missing and not dead, I will trust them and search for our kin. If our clans say that the caravan will survive without major difficulty, I will trust them to guide us well through this bump in the road."

"And if they exile you?" Jay asked. This entire thing was still bothering them something fierce.

"I will trust that they can muddle through things without me," Gzoh said, "And perhaps speak ill of them to my next caravan. I’m not an aether."

Jay’s thoughts were slow as molasses at the moment, but they finally clicked into place.

"You think you won," Jay accused, "You think that surviving that attack was a victory. Stopping such a thing from happening again, getting justice, that doesn’t matter to you."

"It does," Gzoh countered, "Pujunin banished the demon, and we are helping you on your quest to stop more ’such things’ from happening."

"But if it were up to you and the demon got away," Jay pressed, "You would not hunt it down. Even if you had the capability."

Gzoh was silent for a while, which was answer enough, but she spoke anyway.

"Yes," She said, "In such a scenario I would argue that we should not pursue the demon. It would be too risky, and there would be no point to it besides. There is always another monster, another threat. We would be best served preparing for the next than pursuing the previous."

And in so doing leave an evil be to stalk the world unhindered. Nothing would fundamentally change, and future generations would be condemned to suffer just as hers had. Well, that certainly answered Jay’s question. They were not bothered anymore, just tired.

Always another monster, huh? Jay thought, A pretty way to ignore the cruelty of the world and accept injustice.

Gzoh’s words were not untrue. Jay doubted that there would ever be an end to monsters, both those wearing human skin and those not. But accepting that? Never. Jay would never.

Gzoh woke up Jeshin. They got lucky with the road, the snow had stuck around and not melted into ice, and as Jeshin promised the caravan reached Two Crosses before dark.

PIC [https://scythiamarrow.org/archive/SplinterGuard/Art/SectionMarkerJay.png]

Two Crosses was named such because it straddled the river Tyve where it briefly split into two fords before rejoining and continuing south towards Hillsport. The Tyve was not a wide river, stretching maybe a thousand hands across at its widest, but it was navigable from the sea all the way north to the border with Alv at the foothills of the Chips.

The vast majority of Varymyr’s trade with its fellow republic flowed through this city, so it was both large and rich. Not as large and rich as Joinder, obviously, but Two Crosses boasted over thirty thousand inhabitants and was the home of one full Doge and two aspirants.

There should have been hundreds of barges and small ships moving into and out of the city every day, but Jay counted only fourteen during the hour between when the city first came into sight and when they reached the southern gate.

Foot traffic was even sparser. There were a couple of wagons and a carriage parked to the east of the gate next to the river, but not a single traveler in sight. Even the sounds that Jay associated fondly with cities, those shouts, laughs, clangs, and bleats, were muted.

"The main gate is closed, like they’re expecting a siege," Jeshin said, "I don’t like it. We should leave."

"And do what?" Jay asked, "Continue on foot? That’s dangerous and we’ll slow to a crawl once the raptors get exhausted. No, the fastest and safest way to the monastery is by boat, and the best place to get a boat is here. Besides, do you really expect trouble to find us in a city chock full of paladins?"

Jeshin paused for a moment, then grunted her "I agree that this is our best plan, but I don’t have to like it" grunt.

Jay dismounted and approached the gate on foot, leaving Tufaha with Gzoh. A small door, well a normal sized door, it was just small compared to the main gate, opened and a guardswoman stepped through. She was Rhin, though her hair was straight and tied into a ponytail, and she wore scale mail and carried a loaded arbalest.

Please don’t point that thing at me, Jay thought.

She pointed that thing at them.

"Halt!" She said, "The city is closed to travelers.

"Crawl back to Fiqa and tell him our answer hasn’t changed. The Doge won’t open the gate to your lot until the gods’ voices are restored to us. Our courts have too much to handle right now without your thievery added to their burden."

Fiqa? ’Your lot?’ Wait, but I’m not... Oh, Jay thought, Should I have not worn my feathers today? But no, the raptors are a dead giveaway. I should have had the others wait out of sight.

Jay raised their hands, and their heart pounded in their throat. That arbalest bolt was very, very big.

I just need to be non threatening, Jay thought, I can do that.

"I’m not with that caravan," Jay said, "I’m on a holy quest for the aether Amber Nekt, we need a ship to go up the mountains. I’m just an accountant. I do books. Numbers and stuff."

They were babbling. Idiot. Jay reached into their pocket for Amber’s gemstone, to prove their quest, and the guard shot them.

Jay heard a scream, a clang, and felt a pain in their side. The world spun as they were brutally shoved to the right, then righted itself and they saw Jeshin standing in front of them, halberd out and leveled towards the gates. The guard was fumbling to draw her side sword in a panic and shouting for help.

Jay couldn’t see the bolt anywhere, and they were afraid to look down. A handful of guards appeared above the gates and aimed guns down at them. Oh Ishtar, this was bad.

Jeshin started to rush the gates, but Jay caught her by the shoulder. Idiot, what was she even going to do against a full garrison? She was dead as soon as those gunners decided she was.

Jay waved the gemstone in the air.

"I’m here by order of..."

"BY UTU STAND DOWN!" Gzoh shouted. Gods she was loud. "THE FIGHT IS OVER. PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS."

Jeshin threw her halberd to the ground. The gunners on the wall hesitated, then one of them barked an order and they raised their weapons, though they did not drop them. The guardswoman had finally managed to unsheath her sword and pointed it towards Jeshin, who ignored her in favor of staring down the officer on the wall.

"Now," Gzoh continued in a more subdued tone, though still loud, "I can see that I am not wanted here.

"I will go and speak to Fiqa, and convey the decision of your council. These two, however, are indeed on a holy quest as Jay claimed. I would implore you to render onto them all possible aid, and bring them to either your council or the paladins of Ishkur with appropriate haste.

"Peace to the world."

Wait, Gzoh was leaving? Why? Knowing her it was a political ploy of some sort, but not one Jay knew about.

Please don’t leave, Jay thought.

Gzoh left, and that sudden sense of stillness left with her. The guards on top of the wall fidgeted, and their officer leaned over the edge to take a good look at Jay and Jeshin. She gestured, and the gunners took aim again.

"I prefer to not shout my conversations," She shouted, "So I’ll be right down. Don’t move a muscle, my guards are well trained."

Jeshin snorted.

"Well trained at being bigots," She muttered, "And fumbling their draw."

She eyed the gunners and the open door, gauging distances and angles.

Please don’t charge that gate, Jay thought. Luckily, she did not.

A few heartbeats that felt like minutes later the officer appeared from the door. She gave the problem guard a gesture, who saluted then ducked back inside. The officer was a tall Xilae woman with brown eyes and a scarred cheek. She was missing half of her right ear and had studded the other half with golden jewelry, and wore a long green scarf.

"So," she said, "Why are you making such a commotion outside my gates?"

Jay hurriedly handed the officer Amber’s gem before Jeshin could snap at that. This was not the time to indulge her pride. The Xilae studied it closely, then handed it back to Jay.

"It appears genuine, but I would need to check with a paladin to make sure," She said, "In either case, my woman should not have barred your entry. You have no wagon, and may enter the city through the door if you pay the entrance fee."

Jay frowned at that. While city entrance fees were not entirely unheard of they were rarely levied in Varmyr, usually only in the case of a plague or rebellion.

"How much is the fee?" They asked.

"One gold piece for a person, one gold signet for a mount," The officer replied promptly.

Jay bristled. That was absurd! The fee for them, Jeshin, and the two mounts would wipe out nearly all of what they had brought with them on their journey. That coin had taken them months to save, and was supposed to last them most of winter with plenty of buffer.

But Jay could tell that the officer was not in a mood to haggle, so they got out their purse and started counting. Small bits of gold winked in the sunlight, and Jay froze.

This is trading in gold, isn’t it? Jay thought, Fuck. Do I have enough silver to pay the fee?

They did not. Jay took out a single golden piece and weighed it in their palm. They hesitated.

Why did this feel so bad? They had paid for things with gold hundreds of times before. And there was nothing fundamentally different between paying with silver and paying with gold. Besides, trade, that engine of economics, would grind to a halt without gold currency, and Jay had never been the type of person to follow a rule they did not agree with.

Jeshin snatched the money out of their hand, then paid the officer.

"Hey!" Jay protested, weakly.

"You can thank me for saving you from your own moral hangups later," Jeshin said, "Let’s go find the Ishkurites so we can part ways."

Right. They had agreed on that, had they not? That they would part ways in the city?

Jay fetched Tufaha and led him through the wall into the city. The officer sat at a small desk just inside the wall, happily counting coins.

"Welcome to Two Crosses!" She said, cheerfully, then pocketed over half the silver and dropped the rest into a small box.

Jay did not feel very welcome.