James looked up at the ceiling of the longhouse, watching as the firepit’s smoke seeped through the small openings. Beyond it, he could see the grayish clouds that blanketed the skies of Valenfrost, filtering the sunlight into a depressing ambiance.
“You’re a good man. Even I can see that.”
He thought about what Naomi had said to him yesterday, her words repeating constantly in his mind.
“Don’t let this world change that part of you.”
“James?” a voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
James turned to see Dahlia sitting right next to him at the long table, accompanied by his allies—at least, the allies who were currently around to attend. Dahlia, Seamus, Helen, Felix, and even Malik were here, their gazes all on him.
Haggard, Nora, and Falrick were currently off-island, dealing with other aspects of the clan. They couldn’t make it for obvious reasons.
“Yeah?” James asked almost dumbly.
“We were asking you if you remembered anything important about the encounter with the attacker,” Helen said.
James shifted in his seat and lounged a bit, his eyes looking over at everyone. He had refrained himself from saying anything about the encounter, especially since most of his knowledge about Naomi stemmed from the visions at the Tree of Fate. Due to Iendis’ magic, he wouldn’t be able to say anything about those visions, including information he learned from them.
He was certain that the same went for naming Naomi as an outlander. Still, he knew the others here had seen her. They no doubt felt the aura she emitted. The same one he exuded all the time. Yet he wasn’t sure if they had connected the dots yet.
‘Well, here goes nothing.’
“She’s an Outlander,” James said bluntly. He almost prepared himself to feel his throat go dry like cotton, his chest to be squeezed like Thien himself was doing the deed. Yet nothing happened. Instead, James’ friends were all hit with a wave of surprise. Even Malik seemed caught off guard.
“That explains a lot,” Helen grumbled as she leaned back into her chair. “I knew there was something off about her.”
“An Outlander…” Dahlia said. She blinked. “Like the apostle that tried to kill you?”
“Yeah, in a way,” James murmured. “She was summoned here not unlike me. Probably a few years back, if I were to guess. Then again, it’s possible she’s been here longer.”
“Did you know her?” Seamus asked. “Is there a chance that you two are connected somehow?”
“Better question,” Malik started. “Why did she bother to destroy the Beholder Eye?! What was it that drove her to do something so unbelievably stupid!”
James raised his hands to quiet down the necromancer’s spat. Once Malik calmed himself, the young Jarl proceeded.
“I suppose she destroyed the eye because she knew how dangerous it was. Maybe she knows more about the thing than any of us. Nao—” James stopped mid-sentence, his mouth instantly going dry. He could feel how something gripped at his heart, like a metaphorical hand. It caressed his beating organ, almost sensual-like.
You know better, my dear Draugr.
A voice called out to him. The source of it was unknown. It wasn’t in his head, nor in the real world. It was almost… ethereal. Like it was coming from beyond this plane of existence.
James closed his mouth and forced himself to stop shivering. After a second of this, the feeling went away.
“James?” Helen called out.
The Jarl looked towards the veteran, who looked at him almost expectantly. The same went for the rest of the table. They didn’t notice his small interaction with whatever magic the Demigoddess was using on him. James wasn’t sure how it worked, whether it was in real-time or if Iendis had placed precautions on him.
All he knew was that whenever he tried to talk about his experiences at the Tree of Fate, something would prevent him from doing so. Every time it happened, he heard Iendis’ voice scolding him—almost playfully—like he was a childish troublemaker.
Nothing he had learned at the Tree could be told to his friends. To anyone, that is. Not even the name of the Outlander.
‘I suppose that’s still off-limits. Makes sense, I guess. She never outright told me her name.’
“I’m fine,” James muttered in response to the rest of the table. “Just need some water.”
‘You know, come to think about it, I could talk about Iendis and Thien with Naomi. I was even able to call her by her real name without consequence.’
While James didn’t detail his experience at the tree, he was still surprised that he was able to mention it to the other Outlander. Not just that, but she had responded to the comments like it was a normal conversation. As normal as these conversations could get.
Maybe she, too, had been to the Tree of Fate. She seemed to know Iendis and Thien with a familiarity similar to James. It was clear to him that she had dealt with their shit far longer than he had. James found himself thinking about the other earthling constantly, countless questions appearing in his head. He wanted to learn more about her and how she had survived these past years. How she was able to find and recognize him.
‘Did you forget that half of Valenfrost knows who you are already?’ Faust asked.
‘Good point,’ James responded mentally. He was getting carried away in his thoughts again. He needed to focus on the matter at hand.
“In any case, she’s gone. I know our forces are scouring the island—courtesy of Helen and Felix—but I doubt the Outlander is still around. If I were her, I’d get far away from here,” James said. He watched as the table’s reactions mixed and changed, their expressions varying from thoughtful agreement to shaking heads.
“We’re still going to make sure she’s not lurking about,” Helen said. She looked at James with a determined look. “I don’t care if she’s an Earthling like you. She’s dangerous and unpredictable. Hell, I’m surprised you managed to hold her off for as long as you did.”
James recalled the states his allies were in when he had found them that day. Both Helen and Dahlia were promptly paralyzed by binding spells. Seamus was knocked out cold, and Malik was nearly killed when Naomi managed to trip him off the cliff. He had only survived by activating one of his advanced spells.
All of this told him that the other Outlander was more than capable of killing him. And yet she didn’t. She had instead destroyed the Beholder Eye before disappearing into thin air. Speaking of which…
“Malik, did you manage to learn anything about the Beholder Eye?” James asked, changing the topic. “Before it was destroyed, of course.”
The necromancer waved an uninterested hand at the question. “Nothing important. Nothing that we haven’t already learned that is.” Malik scowled. “Honestly, as much as I would have liked to complain and curse the other Outlander, she did me a favor by destroying the damned thing. I was going mad from boredom.”
“Nothing useful?” Dahlia asked. “I would expect for us to learn something substantial from something so… hm. Divine, I suppose, isn’t the right word.”
“Cursed. Hellish. Evil,” Malik responded as he leaned back in his chair. “There’s only so much one can learn from observation alone. I would have dissected it, but judging from what James and Seamus have told me, it would have resulted in the damned thing exploding. I could have probably implanted it, but I’d sooner drink rat piss than risk losing myself to such a dreaded artifact.”
“Really?” James asked, surprised at the necromancer’s words. “Not even in the pursuit of knowledge?”
“Beholder Eyes have killed much stronger and more ambitious men than I,” Malik explained with a scowl. “More have succumbed to the dark magic it emits as well, the eye’s powers enslaving those who are lucky enough to survive the initial implant. By then, the Eye is more in control than the user.”
“Do you think Eli was under such control?” Seamus asked, almost whispering the question.
“I doubt it. If he was, he wouldn’t be working for Deimos,” Malik said. “Eli was an anomaly, I suppose. Either he was able to find a way to implant two of the eyes into his body, or perhaps he had pacted with a Beholder. Either one seems impossible.”
James recalled what Dahlia had told him about Beholders. Dangerous demons that were supposedly responsible for the Mad King’s descent. So dangerous, in fact, that all tomes relating to them were supposedly burnt, and all those who worshiped the demons were put to the sword. It was a stigma that continued to the present day. Even Malik didn’t like Beholders, despite his fascination with their powers.
“Helen,” James turned to the veteran, who perked up at the sound of her name. “You were with the marauders for quite some time. Can you tell us anything about Eli? Anything you haven’t mentioned before?”
Helen pondered for a bit before she answered. “Eli kept mostly to Deimos’ inner circle. I had a few interactions with him, all of them unnerving, honestly. He could ‘see’ despite the blindfold he wore. He knew where everyone was, friend and foe, and we used his scrying to raid islands efficiently. I always attributed those things to his raven familiar. Now, with everything that has happened, it all makes sense.”
“Was he… normal?” James asked. He wasn’t really sure how to phrase it. There was no such thing as normal in Azura. At least, not in this part of the world. “Or maybe, different in a way that even Deimos could find strange?”
“Well, I’m not sure how to answer that,” Helen admitted. “Eli had been with the marauders far longer than I have. From what I’ve learned during my time there, he had been a part of them since he was a kid. Judging from how Deimos and his inner circle had treated him, they more or less saw him as an equal.”
“You think they knew about his eyes?” Seamus asked.
“I suppose it could explain how Deimos was able to successfully lead a raid against Yorn. It also confirms Falrick’s account of what happened that night,” Helen muttered.
“When he said he saw a Beholder,” Dahlia said. “I never really connected the two until now.”
“Still,” James started. “Do you think Deimos has access to another Beholder user?”
“I highly doubt it,” Malik said with a chuckle. “One Beholder Eye—isolated, mind you—is already impossible to attain. A user who cannot be tempted by its dark magic? Unthinkable. It’s clear that Eli was his most valuable piece.”
“Yet,” Seamus muttered. “Eli had no protection during Midsommar. Even Deimos wouldn’t be so irrational to leave someone so important to himself. Beholder Eye or not.”
“Are you saying he has another user in his inner circle?” Dahlia asked, her face pale with the idea.
“Maybe so,” James said, his gaze on the firepit. “Or, maybe he has another ace up his sleeve. Another piece that’s much more vital than Eli. Then again, it could be possible that Deimos had overestimated Eli’s abilities.”
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James recalled the moment when Deimos had learned of Eli’s demise. To say he was upset was a severe understatement. His anger and disbelief had been clear to James, even if he was reserved with his emotions.
“The fact of the matter is that we don’t know,” James continued. “We have too little information. As much as we’ve grown, our knowledge about our enemies is close to nil. It’s all uncertain and unpredictable. We need to learn more about what’s going on. More about potential threats.”
“Like Deimos or the Lumen Kingdom,” Helen vocally agreed. “And the other clans that we haven’t allied with.”
“Exactly.” James nodded. “Which brings me to another issue we need to discuss. Jarl Ivan Falk has asked for a parley.”
The entire room went stiff at that. The ones who knew about the forsaken Jarl paled at the realization of what James had said. They all looked at him, their expressions all mixed. Seamus looked terrified, his eyes wide and face pale. Helen looked angry, her brow furrowed and her scowl apparent. Dahlia had a mix of worry and anger, her jaw clenched as her eyes stared at James.
“You’re not really going to entertain his proposal, are you?” Dahlia asked first. “We’re not exactly on good terms.”
“He killed good men during the raid last year,” Felix said, finally breaking the silence. “On top of that, he helped those Lumen bastards.”
“I know that,” James responded with a sigh. “He’s not a good person. Nor a good Jarl. Which is why I think it’s probably best to do this.”
“How so?” Seamus asked finally. “What head damage have you sustained that made you believe it’s a good idea to parley with such a man? Not even the other clans trust him.”
“No one should trust him,” Dahlia agreed.
“Bastard shouldn’t even be considered,” Helen added.
The room slowly devolved into more arguments, their words unintelligible as they all spoke over each other. James raised a hand in an attempt to quiet down the table. It luckily succeeded, leaving James to fester in silence. After a moment, he took a deep breath.
“I get it. I know we’re all against the idea of even considering his proposal,” James said. “But, I made a promise to myself and the council that I wanted to unite the south. I hadn’t forgotten about that.”
“There are other ways,” Felix said.
“Ways that are just gonna devolve into more conflict,” James argued. “Aren’t you guys sick of it? The infighting? The bloodshed? We already have the Lumen Kingdom breathing down the neck of Valenfrost, and the clans are still bickering and isolating each other. If it hadn’t been for me, a good portion of those clans would still be fighting and arguing with each other. If this keeps up, we’re only going to make ourselves a bigger target.”
“James,” Helen sighed. “I know it’s hard to forget, but this isn’t your world. Diplomacy can only go so far. Fighting is pretty much the only thing that can guarantee change.”
“I don’t believe that,” James muttered. “I’m tired of that mentality. That killing and raiding is the only route we can take. That peaceful resolution is far out of our reach. We’re not marauders. We don’t have to adhere to their standards.”
There was another air of silence, all members of the table looking at each other with different looks.
“I suppose you’re right in some regard,” Seamus said finally. “Rejecting a parley, even from Jarl Falk, could have consequences.”
James nodded. “The fact that he’d extended one to us means one thing. He’s desperate for allies. We could use that, have him pact with me not unlike the other Jarls.”
“I still don’t like this,” Helen growled. “Desperate men are volatile. Put someone like him in a corner, and well… things can get ugly.”
“I still say we kill him and get it over with,” Felix added. “If what I hear is true, then his own clan is on the verge of falling. Taking him out can give us ease to take whatever territory he holds, uniting the south.”
“I just said I don’t want to resort to killing anyone,” James reiterated. “Taking someone’s life shouldn’t be our first option.”
“Quite hypocritical of you,” Malik said. “You’ve killed men before.”
“We all have,” Seamus said suddenly. That was enough to bring the room to a collective pause. “All of us here have killed men before.”
He didn’t phrase it like an argument. Nor did he say it in a way that antagonized James. It sounded solemn and almost wistful. Like the damage had already been done.
James had killed before. He had fought and ended the lives of other men who had opposed him. Orcs included. And it all haunted him. He saw their faces in his dreams, in his memories. James still remembered the screams of Gryff, the cryomancer’s cries of pain filling his daunting nightmares. He recalled the second man he had killed, the one back at the docks of Vindis. He remembered the spattering dark blood and the gurgling sound he had made.
Hell, James was still disturbed by the killing of Blood-Ohm not even two days ago. Even if he was a murderous monster, the orc’s death was still on his mind. Just the memory of his lifeless corpse hitting the mud was enough to give James chills.
James only killed when he needed to or when he had no choice. Despite what had happened, he never intended to kill either Gryff or Arthur. All those situations usually forced his hand under the same circumstance, kill or be killed.
It still didn’t mean he preferred it. He didn’t want to end anyone’s life. It was something that he tried to avoid despite the events that had transpired this past year. Perhaps his aversion to it all was because he had a glimpse of what death was. Through experience and the alternate futures he had experienced back at the Tree of Fate.
‘Rinse and repeat.’
James involuntarily shivered at the recollection. He could still remember the sight of his corpses, all of them mutilated and rotted. All of them killed by fates that never transpired.
The act of ending one’s life carried a weight that reminded James of what he had seen.
‘Then again, the men I killed probably didn’t deserve it. People following orders, not unlike Helen. Ivan is different. He has tried to hurt me and my friends. Killing him is justified.’
James shook his head at that. He didn’t want to fall into that line of thinking. Just because one death was justified didn’t mean that it would make things better. What would happen if he came across another Jarl who wronged him out of fear for his clan, his motive not unlike James?
‘If I start solving my problems by cutting heads, soon all heads will start to look like problems.’
He needed to be a better man. To be a Jarl that wouldn’t succumb to the same violent thinking as the rest of the clans.
“I’m not going to lie to you guys,” James started. “I don’t like Ivan either. I’d much rather deal with another wave of marauding orcs than to even consider talking to him. Still, a Jarl’s duty is to his people. To his clan. To further our growth and expand our reach, we must be able to make alliances in the south and ensure our future. Ivan is no exception, and I will do what I can diplomatically before even considering killing him. I’m not going to be another Deimos. I am not going to force my way into uniting the south.”
He knew he was contradicting himself. He had forced the clans that owned Vindis into an alliance with him despite good intentions. James knew he was being a hypocrite.
“I won’t stop you,” Felix sighed. “Honestly, it’s your clan and your choice. You’re also incredibly lucky, so I suppose it won’t hurt.”
“I agree with Felix,” Helen said. “This is your choice. None of us can really stop you. And to be fair, it’s not a bad idea. That’s not to say I won’t carelessly let you go alone.”
Dahlia nodded. “I’m with Helen on this. If you truly want to meet with Ivan on parley, you’re going to need at least a formed squadron to accompany you.”
“Like I was going to go by myself?” James asked jokingly. “I’ve already been thinking about taking some orcs to go meet with Ivan.”
“You should take others with you, just to make sure,” Helen said.
“I suppose it won’t hurt if I come along?” Malik asked. “As boring as politics are, you are going to pact with Ivan?”
James nodded to the necromancer. “That would be ideal, but if it turns out well enough, I doubt we’ll need to.”
“Malik’s coming with you,” Dahlia said. “Regardless if it goes well. Pact magic, as dark as it is, guarantees Ivan will stay in line. I don’t want to deal with any backstabbing.”
“Fair enough,” James conceded. “Tomorrow, I’ll send a messenger to Brant and Finn. Let them know that I’ll agree to Jarl Ivan’s parley.”
“With conditions,” Helen spoke up. “You don’t want him to come with an entire armada of his ships. Or with too many people. Of course, we would have to follow these conditions as well.”
James nodded. “Of course. We’ll write something up later.”
“Good,” Helen let out a breath. “Now, I suppose we should all stay on high alert tonight. Patrols will be doubled, and Malik will be watching over the island with his crystal ball.”
Malik raised an eyebrow. “I never agreed to that.”
“You agreed to protect James and his allies, correct?” Helen asked. “Well, this counts. There’s an Outlander on the loose, and she’s highly dangerous. Rather we don’t take chances tonight, so do your job and watch over, will ya?”
“Fine, I suppose,” Malik growled. “Not like I have anything better to do.”
Helen nodded to that. “Good. Now, James, we’ll need to train for the next couple weeks leading up to the parley.”
“What?” James asked in surprise. He could also see Seamus perk up in his chair, the young man looking more than a little nervous.
“It has become clear to me that you three,” Helen pointed at James, Dahlia, and Seamus. “Are in serious need of relearning.”
“What?” James raised an eyebrow. “We literally just took over an orc outpost a couple days back.”
“I also train when I can,” Seamus added with confusion. “The basics aren’t very new to me.”
Dahlia was the only one who didn’t complain. Instead, she gave Helen a look that James could interpret as ‘Should you tell them or should I?’
“You two don’t understand what I mean by the relearning,” Helen sighed. “I know you all know the basics. In fact, I think you three have exceeded nearly all of the guardsmen in terms of skill. Especially Seamus. However, it’s clear that you all are very much… what’s the Earth term? Ah yes, rusty.”
“Well, I’m running a clan here, Helen,” James refuted. “Time hasn’t exactly been on my side.”
“That was true in the first half of the year,” Helen said with a nod. “But that lack of time was due to the fact you were dying, remember? Now you’re not.”
James leaned in, his mouth opening to say something back. Yet he paused and thought for a second.
‘I’ve been so caught up with my duty that I’ve neglected to push anything back or take time off. I spent the last four months working nonstop on fixing up the town and improving my standing.’
He was still working like he was on a literal deadline. Not that he hadn’t noticed it. He knew he had been working nonstop for months. It was what kept him sane, after all. Kept him busy enough to ignore the voices in the back of his mind.
They know something is wrong with you. They’re beginning to notice.
James instinctively held back the urge to argue with that. It wasn’t from Faust. Nor was it a thought of his own. It was something deeper, something that he had managed to push down for the last two days. He wasn’t crazy. No, he was dealing with another part of himself that screamed guilt and responsibility. He just needed to ignore it.
‘Are you alright?’ Faust asked.
James gave a mental nod to the spirit as he leaned back into his chair. He watched as Helen began to talk about the weaknesses in both his and Seamus’ forms, listing off the lack of attention and rigidity in both their attacks.
‘Training can probably help clear my head,’ James thought. ‘Just like when Hara–… when I was still training.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Faust agreed. ‘Back when I was still alive, I’d usually spar with the other Legionaries in my free time. It was good to keep my skills sharp and raise morale.’
‘Reminds me of the training session where I was put against other guardsmen for the first time,’ James almost wanted to chuckle at the memory. Kate had kicked his ass a couple times, but he came out a victor in the last round. It had been an exhilarating experience, his adrenaline flowing as he clashed his wooden swords with his opponent.
‘Maybe some sparring can be good for me.’
“Let’s go see where your skills are at,” Helen’s words accompanied James’ thoughts, bringing him back to the moment. He saw as Seamus and Dahlia left the table with solemn looks of regret, Felix following right behind him as Helen prepared to leave. The veteran looked over at James, who had neglected to hear what she had said earlier.
“You too, my Jarl,” Helen said with a hint of a manic smile. James could feel his blood run cold at the implication.
“What?” was all he could say.
“Training ground. Sparring time.” Helen said with a grin before she headed off to the longhouse’s double doors. Malik still sat in his chair, his palm supporting his chin as he gazed at James.
“You’re not coming, right?” James said as he got up.
“In all honesty, I have better things to do,” Malik admitted. “I’ve watched you in action enough times to know what to expect. A sparring match is rarely ever interesting.”
“Yeah, yeah,” James muttered. He headed off to the longhouse’s doors, his left arm swiveling. While he did look tired and almost resentful of the idea of training, James felt the opposite. He felt a ping of excitement in his chest at the thought of testing his skills in a ring against his friends. Not without the fear of dying, of course.
Then again, he wondered if that fear was the thing that made these fights fun.
‘Best not to think about that,’ James thought as he exited the longhouse.