“Oinks! Where the squeals have you been?” growled Yeres, grabbing X by the neck and digging her trotters into his skin.

“Calm down, Yeres.” Ferraine put a hand on her left shoulder.

“Drop him.” Heiran’s deep, imposing tone cut through her rage.

The redheaded elf fell to his knees, gasping for air. “Yeah... nice to see you too,” he spoke.

“Orjas’ gone! Squeeal’re trapped, and—”

“You’re not helping, Yeres,” said Ferraine to her nervous companion.

“You should listen to your superiors. Panicking won’t solve your problems.” X teased her.

“Oink, and you’re free to come and snorrt? Did I lose my memory and, squeal, do suddenly humans become elf lovers?” retorted Yeres.

“Who knows... Never say never,” replied X, a slight smirk drawing on his face.

“We should kill him, Heiran. Oink,” snorted Yeres.

“Humans will do it, soon enough. Don’t waste your energy,” answered the orc.

“Squeal, they’ll kill us all anyway. Snort!” exclaimed Yeres, reaching the limit of her sanity.

“Yes, Yeres,” interjected Ferraine. “Most likely they’ll kill us. Now stop yelling.”

In the barracks, X discovered an injured Yeres, a weary Ferraine, and Heiran, the latter appearing oddly tranquil. Upon reflection, the elf had always observed Heiran to be more composed than the others. The two rippers rested in the opposite corner, bloodied but still standing.

Ferraine glared at the elf. “How are you alive?”

“I ran...and ran,” replied X.

“I saw a hound going after you,” stated Ferraine.

“You did...? I saw nothing,” said the redheaded elf.

“Mhmm.” Ferraine didn’t seem convinced, and neither did anyone else.

“He’s an elf! Oink, of course he could get by one hound! Snorrt is that even a question! Squeal! Our real problem is out there! Oinks already told you, I saw several D-busters, witches, and squealla first contact knights.” Between snorts and squeals, the yoinkolin explained to her companions.

“We all saw them,” commented Ferraine.

“D-busters?” inquired X.

“You don’t know? Those are dungeon busters, specialized units to fuck up dungeons,” she answered.

“Shit! Thoink’s not good! At least we haven’t been snorrted by the damned Herald. Squeal!” Yeres couldn't stay still. She was the worst of the three, her demeanor nearing full-blown panic.

"It’s interesting," remarked Ferraine, "that humans used to performed amazingly poor in dungeons. But, of course, only their kind could devise such bloody shit like those damn D-busters." Ferraine then addressed the orc, asking, “Heiran, how much time do we have?”

“Eight or nine hours,” he replied.

“Any ideas?” asked Ferraine.

The room grew quiet for a few minutes until Heiran spoke again. “The humans clearly came prepared to fight the Swarm. We’re just a bonus, and worse, we’re in the middle. There’s only one way out, and it’s the way we came in.”

“Squealing dwarves! All the rooms and hallways are, snorrt, dead ends!” exclaimed the yoinkolin.

X turned to Yeres. “You should sit down and rest.”

“Bait squealing to me? Oink,” she retorted.

"Whatever comes, I promise you that you will need to give it your all." X then threw himself onto a nearby bed, having not rested in a long time. Yeres reluctantly followed suit, and the room fell silent as Ferraine tended to the yoinkolin’s wounds. Heiran retrieved the portents, glowing dusts, and what remaining supplies they had, and began to organize them.

“I don’t regret killing that fat fucker,” said Ferraine after a while.

“Squeal deserved all of it, oink. Poor little ones...” Yeres remembered a terrible memory.

“Is this why you’re in this mess?” X inquired further.

There was a brief moment of silence before Ferraine spoke. "We received orders to raid an abandoned dwarven mine and the human research outpost located nearby. Our instructions were to retrieve documents and set fire to the area. They even dangled the promise of riches before us, all lies, which we eagerly believed.”

“Squeal... Now our number’s up. Whatever, oink, I don’t think it matters anymore. Being part of this assassin group squeeals been a wild ride.” Yeres sighed and looked at her fellow team members.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“I don’t regret it,” reiterated Ferraine. “We earned gold, had one hell of a time, and met fellow kinn’hayas who’d die for us and us for them.”

The assassins sat in silence, making peace with themselves. Heiran had been quiet the whole time, while X reminisced over his own past actions. This situation, against incredible odds, stirred up a sense of nostalgia within the redheaded elf. For the very first time, he felt grateful to be able to witness it again, despite only being tangentially involved.

“Ferraine, Yeres, you’ve got to rest,” said the orc, interrupting the silence. “I’ll take first watch.”

Both nodded, their exhausted bodies desperate for some downtime, not only physically but also mentally, particularly from their own conflicting thoughts. X had been unable to rest as he desired. His mind spun several threads, causing him to ruminate endlessly in a vicious circle. After an hour had passed, he rose to his feet and approached Heiran, who sat near the entrance of the barracks. Taking a chair, the elf settled beside him.

“You’re too calm, even when I saw you fight. And that’s more than just experience. This world... is as strange as it gets,” the elf pondered out loud.

Heiran remained mute for a moment before responding, “It’s simple. You achieve calm after your mind finds itself.”

“Huh?”

“I’m a Medevar.”

X’s face skewed towards ignorance.

“We follow the teachings of Faarshri, a series of tenets that dictate our actions. Balance before self is a self at balance. From opposites, balance arises, and more along those lines.”

“Interesting principles... It seems to me that those already accept a flaw in all of us.”

“It’s not a flaw. It’s how life was made to be, and we recognize it, embrace it, from both sides.”

“A feature?”

“No... It’s deeper than that, I think,” spoke Heiran.

“You do know that you kill others for a living, right? questioned X.

“It’s my own way to seek balance.”

“Sure it is your own way.”

The snores of the yoinkolin filled the dimly-lit barracks, failing to break the troubled quietness. Their gaze was fixed on the darkness before them, an abyss of unanswered questions.

"Why were you betrayed?" The redheaded elf asked with genuine curiosity.

Heiran grabbed a piece of dried meat and started chewing it slowly. “As those two back there said, we had a good run until a new commander took charge of this squad. Problem was, our commander loved raping younglins—any race, the younger the better, and especially those from poor villages like many of us come from. We sought to put a stop to that and fucked his shit up, we blew his brains out not before cutting his dick into little pieces. We made a pact of silence, but it seems not everyone’s heart was on it. Someone must’ve told the boss, and it turns out the commander and boss were lovers. And... here we are.”

"When you killed your commander, were you following your prophet's teachings or your own convictions?" inquired X.

"To me, they're the same thing," replied the orc assassin.

X furrowed his brow, lost in thought.

“We couldn’t keep working for a younglin rapist,” Heiran continued “Now, trapped in this dungeon, a human army is coming our way. Our rat boss could not cut us up himself, so he sold us to the humans. No surrender, fight to the end. Me for them and them for me. We accept our fate.”

"Live by the sword, die by the sword. This... I understand," spoke X.

"I wish it didn't have to be like that. The balance is lost when it happens."

“You say that to me, an assassin?” X slightly grinned.

“I never said I was an exemplary practitioner of his tenets. But I try.”

While this peculiar conversation unfolded, a thought occurred to the elf, as it had many times before—to fight until the very end. Luck could only last for so long, and everyone would eventually meet their end. But before that fateful moment arrived, one could smile stupidly with hope, marching towards certain death.

“Maybe there’s a way for us to survive or, at the very least, go out with our heads held high,” said the redheaded elf.

Heiran turned his head to look at the elf, a glimmer of curiosity shining in his eyes.

“Several hundred steps ahead through the main hallway lies the smithy. It’s a large enough room for a decent final stand. Take everyone there, hole up tight, and stay alive until I return,” spoke X.

The orc kept staring but didn't answer.

The elf persisted. “You can decide whether or not to do what I’m asking. You lose nothing by trying. It’s up to you.”

“It’s strange... the way you carry yourself...”

“What?”

Heiran changed his approach. “I’ve never seen you cast anything, and elves are natural magical beings. Not even back there when you ran and left us to die.”

“You were going to kill me anyway,” retorted X.

“That's not entirely true. If you had survived, we would have let you go.”

X chuckled, then seriously addressed the orc. “Let's talk seriously now. I'm too sick to do magic.”

“Is it a disease?”

“No, it's a curse, if my memory serves me right.”

“Uh...” Heiran didn't believe him entirely. If he couldn't cast magic, how was he still alive?

“Some freaky demon-gods cursed me,” explained X. “They screwed up, and I got the short end of the stick. Talk about fairness.”

“They can't be Gods if they're truly demons.”

“Right!?”

“The more I know about you, the more you seem like dead weight,” stated Heiran.

“Strength isn't everything, and you know that. Leaders have to. Look, I know you don't trust me, and I don't trust anyone either, but... we have nothing to lose down here but our lives. Think about it.” The redheaded elf pushed himself up from the chair. “And just so we're clear, I can’t really do magic. Don't count on it when I come back.”

“Suit yourself. Leaving now?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then... whatever you find down there, I pray it is yourself.”

X heaved a deep sigh before disappearing back into the twilight. He walked for several minutes, ensuring that he wasn't being followed, before entering the first raalt'ven that he found. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, and all the running back and forth didn't help. He realized he couldn’t rest back there because didn’t trust anyone not to slit his throat. Time ran out while he made his way back to the crazy dwarf's chamber.

[Are you going back to Droff's? That's unusual of you...]

“Yes, I’m risking it. I’m not spending my life hiding down here.”

[It’s not such a bad place.]

“Oh, no no no. I’m not ending like him, in a complicated relationship with little toothy critters. I’m not losing my mind like that.”

[Fear not, for you lost your mind way, way back.]

“I’ll do it this time around! You’ll see.”

Those words gave him impetus, infusing new life into his veins. He quickened his pace with renewed determination.