It wasn’t the first time Col had been forced to fight for his life.

The day had started as peaceful as could be, of course. There was nothing to suggest that the chief of the Maigo Tribe would send Col’s small team on such a dangerous mission immediately after they completed their last one.

But unfortunately, Col couldn’t exactly refuse. If he tried, he knew what would be the response. It was always the same, always threats of what would happen if he defected. Col was almost becoming immune to these tired intimidations, but he dared not go against the chief regardless. He didn’t want to find out if the chief was still willing to carry those threats out.

That morning, Col had read the letter delivered by hawk before getting dressed in his usual black clothing and rousing his crew. The dark jumpsuit matched his shaggy hair, contrasting greatly with his oddly colored eyes. He strapped his thin sword to his waist before heading out to have breakfast before they left for the day.

His crew was already eating when he emerged from his hastily pitched tent. Some of them had already started packing their things and getting ready to move out. That was good. Col didn’t really know these people; they weren’t close to him in the way a squadron should be close to their leader. They feared his power, they feared what would happen if they didn’t comply, and so they followed him loyally. Col was sick and tired of having to act so grown-up, so mature, especially towards men twice his age and twice his size, but as with so many things in his disaster of a life, he seemed to have no choice.

“Any news, sir?” That would be the most competent of the strangers Col was forced to command. Col barely knew their names, so he had taken to calling them by absurd nicknames to amuse himself. If he ever needed to address one directly, though, he usually just pointed and said you. They seemed to get it.

Col glanced at the one who had spoken. Col was pretty sure his real name was Chono, but in Col’s head, he was called Spiky. His muddy brown hair always stood up on end, reminding Col of a reptile. He was the only one who didn’t act like Col would snap at a moment’s notice.

“New mission from the chief,” Col said without emotion. He tossed the scrap of paper on the table. Spiky picked it up and read it while his comrades stared over his shoulders.

“New mission… Sikuraq Tribe… today at the latest… sir, this seems very pressing.”

“I’m aware.”

Spiky chewed his lip, trying to figure out how to phrase his query. “Was this letter… delivered today?”

“Of course it was. The hawk is still here, if you’d like to see for yourself.”

It was a simple enough answer, but the instinctual bite that crept into Col’s tone made the soldiers quiver. Col just sighed and started to head back to his tent.

“We leave in half an hour. Be ready by then. You, come with me. I wish to speak with you.”

The soldiers tittered and muttered complaints behind him, but he knew they were capable. The one he’d singled out, a bulky man he knew as Sun Bear. Sun Bear gave him the opposite feeling than when he looked at a real sun bear- a real sun bear made him think it was a poorly disguised human in a bear suit, whereas Sun Bear the soldier made him think he was fighting alongside a poorly disguised bear in a human suit. The thought was almost enough to make him laugh- almost. The humor would never be allowed to show through his cold mask of emotionless indifference. It simply wasn’t tolerated.

“You- you wanted to speak with me, sir?”

“Yes. I was under the impression you had dueled the Sikuraq Tribe before?”

“Yes, sir.”

Stars, how humiliating to have to call a teenager ‘sir’. “What was your impression of them?”

Sun Bear shifted his weight. “Um- sorry, sir, I don’t understand.”

“What did you think of them? Their fighting style, their strength? Are these warriors easy targets?”

“The Sikuraq warriors are savages, sir. Their tribe is barbaric and their fighters are uncultured.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

Now Sun Bear looked anxious. Oops. “S-sir- they fight in a very- um- primitive fashion. They use clubs and spears instead of swords or bows.”

“I see. You may go.”

Sun Bear practically ran out of the tent. Outside, Col could hear him recounting his supposedly harrowing experience to a few of the others.

“The kid creeps me out! I never know what he’s thinking. Any minute he could snap, and-“

“Calm down, Batu. They wouldn’t put him in charge of a troop if he was unstable. The chief’s got him wrapped around his finger.”

“But how did a kid that age get a whole troop? Is it because he can-“

“Teru says he’s not even that young. He thinks he just looks really young, and he uses it to his advantage. Teru says it’s an intimidation tactic.”

“Who’s gonna be scared of some scrawny little kid?”

And there it was, the sentence that Col had heard so often. And oh, how he wished it were true. The irony of Sun Bear being the one to say that after just complaining about how scary Col was was almost enough to make the young general laugh. But as always, he had to uphold that mask no matter what. Even with no one around to see it, he couldn’t afford to let his emotions get out of hand.

He emerged from his tent without warning, startling Sun Bear and the others.

“S-sir!” One of them tried to salute, and nearly knocked another over. Col sighed and walked past without a word.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Control your breathing and control your temper with it. Col had learned to do such things as a young child, and he still used the exercises on the daily.

After a bit, they were ready to move out. Col led the way, letting his troops trail behind. They tended to fight better when they were less nervous. He seemed to make them very nervous. How odd.

One good thing about having soldiers that were afraid of him was that they never asked questions or tried to get too friendly. That was fine with Col. Friendships resulted in lingering mistrust, and questions led to uncomfortable situations.

The mission was to attack the Sikuraq squadron that was currently at the docks, and to capture their leader if possible. Col thought it would be simple. It should have been simple.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

But it was as far from simple as it could get.

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Toma had always wondered why the Kuroto had attacked the Jindys. Every time someone brought up the war, which was often, he found himself trying yet again to figure out what circumstances could have possibly led to this. He wondered if anyone knew. Maybe the clan leaders did. But it was likely only the Kuroto chieftain. If High Chief Kallik knew the cause of the Two-Century War, he surely would have told his tribe by now. And since there had been no word of any new information regarding the war’s cause, High Chief Kallik must not know any more than Toma himself.

This time, the cause of Toma’s wonderings was Ikiaq. The most experienced sailor on Toma’s team also happened to be one of the most dramatic. Today, he was telling the story of how the war started to Anuk and Erza. Erza only seemed to be half listening and half sharpening his spear, but Anuk was hanging off of Ikiaq’s every word. At least, he was, until Koda smacked him in the back of the head and told him to go check the supply cabinet to make sure they had enough healing supplies.

“Ikiaq, aren’t you supposed to be sailing?” Erza gave the larger man a bemused look.

Ikiaq tossed his long braids over his shoulder in a dramatic gesture. “Ama can handle the helm for a few minutes.”

“Ama?” Toma interrupted. “You let her steer the ship?”

“Uh… yeah?”

Toma sighed. “Lights above. Someone go and get Amaroq and tell him to get his butt down here.”

“On it, chief.” Erza hopped up to go find Toma’s level-headed second in command.

Leaning back on the deck of the Qinu, Toma stared up at the clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. Koda would probably be salty about that. Then again, Koda was almost always salty about something. It was simply a trademark of his personality. Amaroq and Toma had long since gotten used to it.

“Ah, Amaroq.” Toma hauled himself to his feet and briskly made his way to the front of the ship. “Ikiaq apparently saw fit to let Ama steer the boat, so I’m delegating that job to you while I scold him. Try not to hit anything on purpose.”

Amaroq nodded. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Erza, could you let Koda know that we’ll be stopping for supplies soon? He said he needed more poppies.”

“Got it.”

“And tell Anuk that he can have some of the jerky. He kept bugging me earlier.”

“I’ll bring some down for him. Be right back.”

Toma watched the exchange with a faint smile before heading back to where he had left Ikiaq. It seemed that a sharp scolding was in order for the sailor to ever remember that Ama should in no circumstances be allowed to steer the Qinu. It was a lesson Toma had already learned more than once, and he had no desire to learn it again.

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Col had only been about six years old when he had found out what his affinity was.

That blasted ability, the very thing that had gotten him into this situation and torn apart any hope he had of getting out. No, not torn apart- burned to ashes. Burned until there was no trace of it, nothing to satisfy his empty hands, nothing to focus on or to protect. Perhaps that was it; why he never tried to refuse the chief. He could have fought back if he wanted, but it would have undoubtedly resulted in his death. After he caused an enormous ruckus, of course. But none of that would ever be relevant, since he would never be able to fight back. He had nothing left to fight for.

Once he learned his affinity, it had never occurred to him that something might be wrong with it. He had expected the same happiness and pride that everyone else received. He hadn't expected the abject horror on his parents’ faces. He hadn't expected to be taken away to the palace the very next day, never to return home again. Col wasn't even sure if his home was still intact anymore. His memories of his parents were vague and fleeting, and he had never gotten an answer other than scorn when he tried to inquire about their fates.

Col’s reality from that point forward had been like a house of playing cards. He spent so much time building up something he could see as passable- not perfect or even good, but passable- and then someone would come and knock everything to the floor, leaving him to begin the grueling process once again. The cards were thin, and flimsy, and useless, but they were all he had. They were all he was allowed.

There was another stack of cards waiting for him, he thought, sturdy cards waiting somewhere, hidden from view. Cards that wouldn’t blow away or fall apart, but he had no idea how to reach them. He could only assume those cards existed because he knew that they were what everyone else had. He didn't really know if a set was waiting for him somewhere, or if he would have to resign himself to these flimsy scraps of paper.

Paper- just another thing that burned.

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It was almost too peaceful. Toma had heard that the Maigo soldiers supposedly left town already, but he had still expected to see at least some sign of unrest at the port of Wei-Vallei, a trading town in the Western Hano Tribe. But everyone was totally at ease, and Toma himself was starting to relax because of it.

Not that he had time for that. This was a resupplying stop, not a vacation. They were supposed to be on their way to bring their meager forces to the Dayir Straits. None of them really thought that they would be much help, but according to their top strategists, every man counted in a fight against the Kuroto. The fact that they still weren't sure where the Sotello’s loyalties lay made things ten times as stressful.

“Amaroq, bring us to the end of that dock,” Toma called. His friend obliged, letting the wind play with his light brown ponytail as he focused on steering the boat. In the meantime, Ama had apparently decided she wanted to be a nuisance.

“What have we got on the agenda, Toma?” The heavily-muscled woman insisted upon leaning on Toma’s head, much to his chagrin.

He sighed through his nose and managed to push her off. “We’re gathering the supplies we’ll need to make it to Dayir. We should only be in Wei-Vallei for half a day, at most. It shouldn't take too long to find what we need and head back out.”

Ama nodded sagely. “And you definitely aren't paranoid about the rumors of Maigo soldiers passing through. I’m sure that our orders are the only reason you're cutting this stop so close. Although we’ve got the time to spare, you know.”

Toma resisted the urge to sigh again. “If you want to go play in the marketplace, all you have to do is ask.”

“Lights above, no. I was referring more to a certain pair of irritating little troublemakers who have been eavesdropping this whole time.”

“We were not!” Anuk burst out. “Erza, tell them we weren't eavesdropping.”

“Well now you've gone and blown our cover, you idiot.” Erza stepped out of the cabin where they had been lurking. Technically the stairwell in there led to the sleeping quarters below deck, but it was fairly obvious that the two boys had not come from down there.

“If you two want to go into the town, you have permission,” Toma said. “Just make sure you’re back by dusk so you don’t miss supper.”

Anuk and Erza grinned before running below deck to retrieve their things. Toma could hear them laughing and cheering.

Ama elbowed him playfully. “So we’re letting this little excursion run long, eh?”

“Would you rather I make them stay on the boat forever?”

“Fair point.”

Normally, Toma would have only made one person stay on the ship, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong if they all went into the town. Still, they needed supplies. He decided to ask Amaroq to stay behind with Koda. Amaroq would be a bit disappointed, but he would understand.

Ikiaq, on the other hand, was utterly insistent on going into town by himself.

“I don’t see why you’re letting the children go off on their own and not the adults,” he muttered unhappily.

“Because the so-called ‘children’ always stay in a pair.” Toma turned to Ikiaq. “And because they are both technically adults as well.”

“They’re only sixteen! They may be adults in a legal sense, but they certainly act like children.”

“Erza is seventeen and will be eighteen soon, and he’s one of the most responsible ones here. He’ll make sure Anuk doesn’t get himself into anything.”

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Despite Erza’s best efforts, Anuk somehow always managed to get himself into something. Be it trouble, a snowdrift, or a conversation he didn’t want to be in, it was always Erza who came to pull him out. After all, they were best friends, and Erza knew that Anuk would always have his back too.

Today, Anuk had managed to get himself into a predicament regarding two hair beads and a rather uncooperative merchant of pears. While Erza tried to sort it out, he noticed Anuk trying to look in an alley nearby.

“What are you doing this time?” Erza looked over his shorter friend’s shoulder, but couldn’t see anything interesting.

Anuk turned with a start. “Huh? Oh, I could’ve swore I saw someone go in that alley.”

“Well, yeah. It's an alley. People go in it.”

“You shut up. It was just weird because of his clothes.”

“Why, of all things, is his clothes what you chose to fixate on?”

“Because they were weird! He was dressed like a Maigo assassin or something.”

“How would you know what a Maigo assassin looks like?”

“Inference? Either way, I want to try and follow him. Maybe he’ll lead us to the Maigo chief and we can end the whole war today!”

“Somehow I doubt that, but if you're willing to explain to the guy why we’re following him once he inevitably notices, then I guess I can’t really stop you.”

“Neat. Let’s go.”

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Retrospectively, Toma really should have foreseen that it was a bad idea to let Erza and Anuk go anywhere with only each other. Erza was at least somewhat responsible, or perhaps just good at anticipating the adults’ requests, but combined with the hyperactive seal pup of a healer’s apprentice? Responsibility had gone out the porthole, and common sense right after it. Toma wished he had realized this in advance, if only so he didn’t have to admit that Ikiaq was right. He hated admitting that Ikiaq was right. The sailor was quite a pain when he knew he had won something, no matter how small. Perhaps Toma could simply remind Ikiaq of the fried squid incident if he got too insufferable. It was an old trick, but it worked all the same.

“Remind me again which direction you saw them go in?” Toma pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes, trying and failing not to sigh in exasperation.

“That way, like I just said,” the merchant spat irritably. The pears in his fruit cart were all over the ground, so it was safe to assume that the boys had been here and had once again decided to be unstoppable forces of chaos.

Toma thanked the merchant for his assistance, which earned him an irritated grunt. With yet another sigh, he began to make his way over to the tailor’s shop where Ikiaq and Amaroq were apparently trying to tag-team the seamstress. Ikiaq was being his usual dramatic self, though with a little extra flirtatious flair thrown in. Amaroq seemed to be at least attempting to get real answers, but Ikiaq’s antics were as unhelpful as usual. He apparently hadn’t noticed the golden engagement bangle on the woman’s wrist, either. Normally Toma wouldn’t be surprised that something like that escaped the notice of one of his tribesmen, since they all had different customs. But the engagement bracelets had become popular even in the Sikuraq Tribe, and Ikiaq the “famous sea traveller” should have been able to remember that.

Groaning, Toma stalked over and grabbed Ikiaq by the back of the hood, dragging him out of the shop and giving Amaroq a chance to keep talking to the poor girl. Perhaps with their dramatic comrade out of the way, they could get some good answers and find out where exactly their youngest tribesmen had gone.