War stood near a blazing mud furnace as Roxim craftsmen kept it lit and working round the clock to be sure everything was ready for the upcoming war. His tied back red hair weaving in the strong wind like long flames in the early morning light as he laughed and clapped.
Chief Zargoth danced in swift, deadly fashion, fire blazing around him as his warriors and citizens cheered or cried, their legacy returning with a renewed sense of hope. He spun and twisted in a mesmerizing trance to the gathered toads. The children were jumping up and down, asking their parents when they’d be able to dance with fire, and War could see the emotion in the Roxim people’s eyes.
Morale was soaring and the clan’s excitement was palpable, their cheers and rhythmic claps adding to the energy of their chief’s movements. Beside War, Rylee watched with a soft smile, her sharp green eyes reflecting the firelight as some of her witch coven stood nearby.
Zargoth’s words boomed as he maneuvered mid-air with the fire, accelerating his movements and creating a cyclone of heat. “You witches have truly outdone yourselves, Rylee!”
He flipped out of the sky to land in front of them, the flames dissipating as the scarred warrior gazed upon the slender witch, tall for a human woman but not when compared to a standing ri’bot. “Your rituals work… Empress Elinor has fulfilled her promise.”
Rylee brushed back her dirty and long dark brown hair, falling over her shoulder. “We’re far from done, Chief Zargoth. Now that we’ve finished the ritual formula I can direct Hilda’s Circle to start working on your other warriors to unlock their blocked genes.”
She glanced from Red to the perpetual misty expanse to their southeast, where the Roxim’s lake fed into the giant scar in the valley; the Avana dragon had carved it out nearly a century ago, and Red had seen the interest in the Gray Coven members’ eyes eager to explore it over the last few days since they’d arrived.
“With Hilda’s thirteen witches working on your High Warriors, it leaves Carla’s Circle and me available to research further activities and further strengthen your defenses. I have a few things to personally see to, given to me by Queen Tiffany, such as getting the communication grid more stable, but that shouldn’t be too challenging. We’re far from done supporting you, Chief.”
Zargoth settled down a tad, naturally thrilled to have his people’s legacy returned to them. He studied the thirty-two-year-old woman with respect he likely rarely gave anyone else.
“I will speak highly of your achievements with your queen when she arrives. You are one of three covens within the Empire, are you not?”
Red stepped back to let the brown-skinned Colombian woman have her spotlight as he surveyed the bustling village, the pulse of war in every heart. Right now, they were on the defense, but soon, he’d be leading the charge, and that sent a surge of energy through his undead veins.
Rylee accepted a resilient flower stem from Hilda as she directed her Circle to prepare the next ritual. They’d found flowers nearby that had some elasticity, which made it perfect for them over the last week and been used as hair ties. The issue was they seemed to have a week’s life span.
The coven leader tied back her hair and returned her gaze to the chief. “If there is anything else you’d like, then please, let Zara know.”
She shifted to her right to bring a bright-eyed sixteen-year-old girl into focus, clasping her hands on her shoulders before fixing the girl’s curly brown hair. “Zara is a bit young and new to the Gray Witches, but I’d bet she could advance to the 2nd Circle position as a leader in the next few days, given her talent.”
The girl’s muddy irises widened in shock. “You really think so, Rylee?”
Her two-years-older big sister tapped her on the arm nearby and winked. “You’re already outshining me, Zara. Mom and Dad will be proud when the Empress brings them back.”
“Mhm!”
Red smiled as a few of the other witches rallied around the beaming teen. Most of the witches in the Gray Coven were over eighteen, but there were five of the twenty-six witches that were between fourteen and sixteen. Their parents had entrusted them to his care, and they were going to return to the Wixum base when the war truly started, cycling out for the White and Black Covens.
Zargoth crossed his arms and looked around at his laughing warriors and citizens, wondering who in their clan would have strong enough blood to become Mystics. “Hmm. War, join me for a moment…”
“I’m in your service until told otherwise,” Red chuckled, arms crossed over his thick, armored chest as he nodded to Rylee to go have their fun; Zara moved to join them, acting as the courier for her coven if they needed any more witchcraft done. “I’ve wanted to check on the Xaltan’s movements. Is that a good direction?”
The discolored green toad patted him on the shoulder while taking the lead. “Just where I wanted to go! Fennel should be returning shortly but I’d like to see how their preparations are coming… The last report has me cautious.”
Red nodded and gave Zara a reassuring thumbs up as she jogged after them. “Don’t worry. I’ll carry you up the side of the cliff.”
“Oh! Thanks, War. Are we…taking the cleared path?”
“Yes,” Zargoth mused, looking at her thin frame; most of the men and women had thinned out quite a bit over the last few months in the jungle environment. “Humans have adapted better than Fennel believed they would, considering how clumsy your species was when they first arrived in our world.”
“It’s all thanks to Empress Elinor,” Zara swiftly returned, her pulled-up hair bobbing with her carefree movements as she waved at the toad children and studied the Roxim home base. “Without her power, none of this would be possible. Everyone really believes she’ll take us back to a point that was better than we had it in Colombia. She…really cares about us.”
Red breathed out a long puff of air, his ruby irises looking down at the suddenly melancholy teen, the morning sun glistening off her sweat-slicked brown skin. “Still wondering when your parents will be brought back? You don’t need to worry. The Empress will recognize what you and your sister are doing. Your prowess as a witch proves your dedication to her vision.”
“No, no,” she protested, playing with her torn and dirty tank top, leaves sewn into the fabric to provide better modesty from the damage; they’d worked hard over the past few months. “I’m just missing them. The fact they can come back is more than enough… If I work harder, then maybe things will happen faster… I don’t know. I’ll just try my best and wait for it to happen.”
Gauntlet disappearing in a flash of ruby light, he rubbed her back for comfort. “You’re doing fine, Zara. All of this preparation work is the most critical part. Your rituals will save lives.”
“Mhm.” Her smile grew. “Not that death really matters with the Empress around. She’s so…amazing. Some of the girls wonder if High Queen Butter really is related to her because none of us actually knows what…she kind of does.”
“Oof.” Red winced at the redirect, which was natural considering the hard work everyone else was doing while the High Queen of the Evening Star was off on her mysterious mission. “Empress Elinor and High Queen Butter have a…complicated relationship from what my brother and sisters say, but she does pull her weight.”
Zargath’s body shook with laughter. “I haven’t met Butter, but I’ve heard the whispers about the lazy golden butterfly.”
Zara flashed her teeth. “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it, General War. All everyone’s seen is her flying around eavesdropping on people.”
Red tried his best to defend the positive and gung ho blonde twin of his Empress, but it was hard when he hadn’t talked much to the High Queen either. Most of his information came from second-hand. White was currently with her, though, so he was sure they were off conquering something with his indomitable, strategic, and charismatic big sister on the mission.
Their path up to the ridge was met by Fennel, and he guided them on the hour hike to the steep mesa that defended the Roxim from the other clans. He took the excited teen into a princess carry, summoned Carnage, and set her on the front half of his muscular, proud war steed. Swinging up behind her, he followed the ri’bot up the winding, hazardous path to the top of the rocky mountain’s flat summit.
He shielded his eyes from the blinding sun as they reached the sweltering and humid top of the mesa, the sun rising higher in the sky. Zara plucked at her tank top, trying to get air through to cool off as Carnage came to a slow trot.
“I’m going to get sunburnt, I can’t believe no one in the Gray Coven learned Alisa’s sunscreen ritual trick… The White Coven has so many convenient rituals. Aww, and you’re such a good boy, Carnage,” she cooed, nuzzling the horse’s neck.
“Then why didn’t you join them?” Red chuckled while passively listening to Fennel and Zargoth talk about the status of the smaller villages north of the main Roxim settlement. “Because your sister was already in the Gray Coven?”
“Mhm… Esmeralda’s Black Coven scares me, to be honest, and Alisa does less, eh…cool things, I guess you could say,” she mumbled with a strained grin. “The Gray Coven is advertised as being a little more dark than White and less dark than Black. The perfect mix!”
“Just without the sunscreen benefits.”
“You get it! Ugh… Can undead even get sunburns?” she asked, jealousy in her muddy brown eyes while twisting to look back at him and accepting the last water bottle he’d brought in Carnage’s satchel for situations like this. “Oh, thanks! Seriously, though, everyone that comes back is drop-dead gorgeous. Have you seen Theresa? She used to play the piano at church, but now she’s like a supermodel, singer…and Head Maid for the Empress.”
“You’ll get your chance eventually to taste what undeath is like,” Red mused, scanning the attitude of the soldier toads with their snipers and guns that Elinor had traded for their human slaves; Zara had been one of the rare teenage girls that were taken by the Roxim and now she was helping them. “No need to rush it, and there are things you can do while alive that we can’t.”
“Like having babies!” Zara chimed, shockingly energetic about that detail. “From what I heard down the witch grape vine, Queen Tiffany has been researching a way to speed up the process. We’re kind of…dying out since there’s less than four thousand living humans, right?”
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“Not wrong,” Red muttered, swinging down and easily picking her up to set down beside him. “In any case, I’m going to have to let you be bored and lonely for a bit.”
“Don’t mind me!” she proclaimed, pointing at the water house that the ri’bot used to rehydrate. “I’m going to rest in the shade and splash some water on my face before I die of heat stroke!”
The teenager jogged off, leaving him to walk with Fennel and Chief Zargoth. Carnage nipped at his ear, making him chuckle.
Of course I’m soft to the citizens of the empire. Lay off.
Carnage snorted before vanishing in a crimson haze as Red dismissed him, his vision narrowing while joining the Chief’s conversation.
“So, they are building boats? Show me.”
Passing by the wooden towers and walls that covered any steep path up to the ridge, Fennel took them to the far south observation tower. Jumping to the top in a single bound since it didn’t have a ladder, his cloak billowed in the strong wind. His fiery braid whipped in the strong gale as he surveyed the valley below.
It was always a sight to behold, standing over 500 meters in the air, the alien jungle sprawled beneath, a tapestry of life and color. The colossal tar-black trees towered over the landscape, their vast trunks rising high, dwarfing even the largest redwoods. Each tree was adorned with massive orange and purple leaves, casting violet and auburn rays of light that created a vibrant sea of vegetation.
Stretching between him and the jungle, an 8-kilometer wide river wound its way between the jungle marshlands and lush, young landscape north of the waters. It was a gleaming serpent in the vast valley. The marshlands of the Xaltan lay low, almost cradled by the valley's towering walls, where the land dipped to embrace the river’s path. The sheer cliffs on either side rose steeply, their rocky faces dotted with vegetation and crowned by the dense jungle above.
From this aerial vantage point, the valley seemed almost serene with its spotted showers, yet the storm brewing in the distance hinted at the untamed power of this alien world. As was typical, it would be drawn in by the valley’s crowning jewel of a colossal mountain, possibly higher than Mt. Everest, and constantly veiled in snow, before dumping its content onto them.
As Fennel and Zargoth joined him, his gaze lingered on the jungle’s canopy, a dense mosaic of greens, oranges, and purples, swayed gently in the wind. It was a living, breathing entity that thrived in the fertile soil enriched by ancient fires and volcanic activity.
The spotter handed him a pair of binoculars, and he adjusted them to get a clearer view of the Xaltan’s shores. His focus instantly centered on activity along it, giant boats anchored along its banks.
“These boats are too modern for the Xaltan,” he whispered to the chief and his top warrior, frowning as he counted at least a few dozen and handed the item over to them. “They’re long and sleek, designed to transport large groups of people.”
“Indeed,” Fennel growled as Zargoth examined them. “It is not of our natural design and is more in-line with Nalvean technology.”
“The salamander water-benders, eh? Well, that’s not concerning…”
The presence of so many vessels made his stomach churn with unease. He shifted his attention across the river to the perpetual mists hovering over the Maw, barely able to discern the partially hidden mountain that overlooked it on the opposite side of the Roxim lake.
Fennel tapped his ax against his thigh, his face etched with concern. “The odd thing is they’re preparing not only large rafts that we’ve never seen,” he muttered, “but far more than what would be required for an assault of elite units. If they used torlim, like us, I’d understand, but they don’t.”
Zargoth followed Red’s gaze to the eastern fog on their side of the river, his expression serious. “I’ve taken your advice and stationed scouts near the border of the mists to cover that side. They won’t get by without being seen, but the Xaltan are masters of stealth among the valley clans. That being said, the thermal binoculars, which regain their vigor through the sun’s light, should prove valuable in detecting any movement across the river.”
“At least at night,” Red nodded, a grim smile playing on his lips. “Good. We’ll need every advantage we can get if they somehow got Nalvean support because that wasn’t something we’d planned on. Klaus didn’t report anything on his last letter that indicated that they were mobilizing for an offensive in their capital, but their empire is so vast that he may not even know. We need to be prepared for everything, which is why Rylee is here to provide the flexibility of rituals.”
The view from the tower offered a stark contrast between the bustling activity in the Roxim camp and the foreboding stillness beyond the river, their vessels empty. Below, the Roxim craftsmen toiled tirelessly by the lake, their fires leaving smoke rising into the sky, their mud furnaces blazing as they prepared for the impending conflict. War drums echoed through the camp, mingling with the cheers and cries of the clan’s warriors and citizens at regaining their Firewalking Mysticism.
“War is coming,” Red said, his voice a low growl as he felt something shifting already in the wind. “They’re already in motion. The Empress should return tomorrow morning, so it won’t be long until reinforcements come. We need to be ready.”
Fennel hoisted his ax over his shoulders, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. “I never would have thought the weak human that died so easily would become our shining hope…” He glanced down at the pistol strapped to his waist and the grenades. “The Xaltan won’t know what hit them. But we need to stay vigilant. There is a reason they are considered the strongest clan in the valley. They’re cunning and won’t hesitate to use any advantage they can find since they don’t operate on honor.”
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Zargoth handed the binoculars back to the spotter. “I’m sure the Empress has something to tie the Xaltan’s tongue and prick their feet. She’s the most resourceful creature I have ever met… I knew it the moment I met her and saw what she’d managed to build.”
Fennel rubbed his drying head, watching the spotter be replaced by a fresh warrior, allowing him to rejuvenate in the water house from the blistering stun, despite the shaded roof’s protection. “I can see their faces when she brings the quen’talrat Elite Hunter to devastate their defensive line.”
“I’m sure she will have more surprises for them…and us,” Zargoth muttered, and Red detected a hint of admiration and anticipation from the Roxim Chief. “For now, we need to make sure the torlim are in top condition. The binding rituals your witches are crafting, War, combined with our awakening Firewalkers and the witches’ other disruptive traps will allow us to repel at least the initial attack.”
“Let’s hope,” Red sighed. “All we can do is prepare, yet…I feel something ominous in the air.”
“I’ll double the watch,” Fennel instantly replied, moving to jump down. “We’re reaching the final jump to the Empress’ return. If we hold out, then reinforcements will come but if we fall, then all of this work will be for nothing. I’ll send a scout across the river with one of those walkatie-talkaties to observe from the shores.”
”No,” Zargoth muttered. “If they’re captured, then they could listen in on our communications. For now, we need to remain vigilant in tracking their movements. We have the high ground and vision. Keep patrols on the shore and look for any signs of swimmers. Let’s head down. We need to finalize our preparations and ensure every warrior knows their role.”
Red nodded. They Descended the tower, and he chuckled upon seeing Zara lying on her back in the water building, tank top pulled up to her lower chest and spreading cool water over her skin to cool off.
“Ready to go?”
“Eh?! Are we actually going down? This place is a heat death trap! We need some ventilation in here…like, bad!”
Carrying the heat fatigued sixteen-year-old witch down to her relief, he wondered if Rylee had sent her to be their witch ambassador because of her dangerous tendencies when left alone. Apparently, the girl was all too willing to experiment with rituals and cause mischief, including pranks on her fellow coven members.
When they made it back to the bustling camp, he saw several more Firewalkers performing a dance together that had the Roxim citizens bouncing to the war drums. The energy was palpable, a mix of fear and excitement as the Roxim warriors prepared for battle, entertainment was given, and witches flitted about, engaged in their own activities.
Red’s presence was a steadying influence, his confidence infectious as he moved among the troops and Roxim citizens, offering words of encouragement and advice.
“We fight not just for survival,” he reminded them, “but for our legacy. The Xaltan think they can take our land, our people, but we will show them the strength of a united front between Roxim and the Undying Empire. Death is no end within the Empress’ eternal flame.”
As the day wore on and the darkness of night settled, Red found himself back at the edge of the camp, staring out across the river once more. The mist seemed to mock him as it stretched over a quarter of the serpent-like waters, hiding whatever threats lay beyond its shroud.
He glanced down at his walkie-talkie as Rylee’s exasperated voice came through. “General War…”
Closing his eyes and feeling that ominous sensation in his gut again, he breathed out a long breath and brought the device up to his mouth; this wasn’t what pre-war felt like… It felt like the Xaltan had already made their move, and they couldn’t see it. Yet, no movement had been spotted, and they had eyes everywhere, including the witch familiars.
“What is the problem?”
“It’s the communication ritual relay point inside the caves underneath the mesa… It’s been utterly destroyed. We’re going to have to rebuild it.”
Figuring the woman was probably covering for someone’s mistake if she wasn’t suggesting foul play, he rubbed his forehead. Don’t tell me Zara thought she could upgrade it and make it better, and at this critical point.
“What happened? Did someone have the bright idea to upgrade it?”
The thirty-two-year-old woman sounded somewhat perplexed and agitated at the same time. “Zara discovered the disconnect, actually, and went to investigate while trying to double check all the rituals. It happened earlier today, likely in the morning, which was why we didn’t get any midnight updates. Actually…it was Carla’s mistake.”
Red’s brow furrowed, turning away from the mist to walk toward the settlement. His thoughts went to the thirty-year-old, brown-haired, and blue-eyed Colombian woman.
A Second Circle Witch, and the leader of one of the Circles? Carla’s a biologist by specialty, focusing more on flora and fauna than communication rituals. Why would she be trying to upkeep it when Quinnel is her expert for that in her Circle? Perhaps they got a bit too caught up in their own research and activities today?
Still, it’s a huge blunder, and one she should know better than to make. She’s the intelligent, practical, and level-headed type who fears to disappoint Rylee. How could Carla have missed such a critical step than to test if the ritual was inactive or not?
“I’m on my way. How long will it take to fix?”
“That’s the problem,” Rylee hissed, likely glaring at her friend. “Some of the materials used are not that prevalent on the eastern side of the valley since it was created with western valley materials. We’ll need to find some work-arounds since the materials used for it…somehow got used on other rituals. Zara…”
He heard the sixteen-year-old’s downcast voice on the other end. “I’m so sorry, Rylee, War… I succeeded in making the camouflage charm, though. That’s useful, right? I just, why did Carla not tell anyone! She’s been off with Sofia way later than she should, too, looking for—oh, they’re back?”
“Zara, we’re not trying to blame you. We always need spares for situations like this, though. Nothing is more important than communication across the valley,” Red sighed. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Keep Carla there. We can’t do anything about it now. Try to figure out a work-around and I’ll be there shortly.”
“We’ll be waiting,” Rylee mumbled. “I’m going to go talk to her now and figure everything out. It really doesn’t sound like Carla, but she was the last one who swapped places with Olivia, and no one else was told to maintain it, which means someone is lying, which…I doubt, but I don’t know. This shouldn’t have happened at all.”
Walking through the grasslands beside the Maw and the Roxim lake, he went to see what was the real damage because Rylee rarely sounded that upset. He felt more bad for Carla than anything else.
What is Tiffany going to do when she gets back and hears that one of her witches, who should know better, unlike Zara, let the ritual network be down for more than twenty hours without reporting it? There had to be a communication error somewhere along the way, which needs to be found and plugged with prejudice…and redundancies…a lot of them. It feels more like sabotage.
Uncomfortable thoughts swirled in his mind as he felt war breathing on the back of his neck. Something isn’t right… I’ve felt something off since this morning, and now I come to learn the communication grid has been down for that long? No checks. And people are out later than they should be. Zara is right, Carla shouldn’t be out after dark with Sofia since she’s only fourteen years old.
Red increased his pace, his fingers tightening into a fist. I’ve gotten to know all twenty-six of the girls fairly well. Ximena, Ursula, Yolanda, Karina… All of them can only use their powers due to believing in Empress Elinor. If they tried to betray her, then their powers wouldn’t work. It doesn’t make sense, but…is there somehow a Scarlet Hand spy within the coven?