At the centre of a spacious clearing located in the middle of Flatner forest, two figures sat on opposite sides of a crackling campfire that spat embers into the crystal clear, night sky. A bright crescent moon illuminated the tops of the swaying trees as they bent and twisted in the gentle breeze.

The area around the small fire is devastated with deep gashes and chunks of dislodged earth scattered almost haphazardly as if had bore witness to an epic fight amongst giants. The trees encompassing the clearing only seem a little better for wear however they still looked like a strong gust of wind would cause most to splinter and tumble to the ground.

The rustling leaves and the friendly crackling of the fire were the only sources of sound in the eerily silent clearing until the marginally taller figure coughed and took a long gulp from a dark glass bottle.

“You have improved little demon.” complimented Verz with a slightly slurred voice before taking another deep swig of the mysterious liquid.

Mors had never seen his captain drink and was always thankful for that. Although it held the potential to make her easier to be around there was also the terrifying possibility of her being a violent drunk and wrecking havoc.

-”Who knows how many people would end up dead and disfigured if she got even a tiny bit more violent.” [Mors]

After she had downed her 7th bottle he started to relax as the worst case scenario didn't seem to be happening. If anything it made her look much more likeable as gradually the cold stone facade was dropped and she began to show real emotions.

“So… what do you want to gain from life,” asked Verz for the second time that night. She had originally asked him when they began sparring, however, Mors wasn't much of a talker when it came to fighting, especially when a mistake could cost him an arm so it went unanswered.

“Bit philosophical for a warrior of the wilderness” joked Mors as he tried to redirect the conversation. He had plans and goals for this life but sharing them wouldn't be wise, especially with someone he considered to be his main obstacle.

“You know you can leave at any time… Yes, you would be considered a deserter and those from the military and the coliseum I rescued you from would hunt you down but no one is keeping you here.” snapped Verz as if she had read his mind.

“Only the strong are free in this world,” spoke Mors in a semi-defeated voice after taking a few minutes to think. “Surviving to become strong is the only path I can tread.”

-”Pretty vague but it's impossible to lie to her without getting caught or sparking her insatiable curiosity.” thought Mors. He had no intention of sharing his true objectives with anyone, especially one he literally knew nothing about.

He had spent the first few months upon arriving at the Pathfinders camp trying to find any information he could on his mentor before finally giving up. It wasn't like people weren't telling him because he was an outsider or they didn't like him, it was that they truly had no clue themselves. Even what most would consider her best friend Jade had no information, well none that Mors was willing to ‘pay’ for.

Like the demons from legends she simply appeared one day in the middle of a great battlefield and after impressing one of the leaders with her monstrous strength and brutality, she got offered a job. If she could bring him the enemy generals head, he would give her a permanent position in the Federation's forces and a pardon from any past transgressions.

Not only did she deliver the general's head but she also single-handedly managed to wipe out all of the opposition's elite troops while undertaking the task turning the battle into an almost laughable, one-sided slaughter. This was also where she gained the nickname ‘Blood Wolf’ as when she returned she was covered head to foot in blood and gore, grinning from ear to ear.

“Do you trust me?” replied Verz obviously taken a little aback by Mors obviously vague attempt at dodging the conversation.

“Trust is a two-way street,” said Mors with a cold smile while meeting Verz’s gaze. “You are as mysterious as you are unforgiving and thus we have no foundation for trust to be built.”

“I saved you from the colosseum” immediately replied Verz in an unusual defensive tone as if she had actually been insulted.

“You conscripted me into your private army and forced me to train mercilessly for two years.” [Mors]

“I gave you a place to live, eat and grow strong” [Verz]

“You gave me a cage” [Morz]

“I GAVE YOU A CHANCE!” Shouted Verz with a heaving chest as she stood up. Deep down she couldn't fault him for his perception of events and already felt pretty guilty hence the purpose of the conversation but she had also helped him out greatly.

Although she had faith in Mors and his abilities the trials for Pathfinders was considered one of the most dangerous initiations in the military world. Only a fraction returned and those were normally full teams that worked together. Not the fractured group he was the outcast of.

“Look… I am sorry for what has been done. Initially, I had my own selfish reasons but I really do care about you Mors… you're the closest thing I will ever have to a son.” spoke Verz with the last bit being so quiet it could've passed for a gust of wind.

Not hearing the end of her sentence Mors was getting irritated by his longest running conversation with Verz and decided he would try to end it here even if it meant another round.

“I need to get stronger because this world is filled with people like you, who impose your own selfish will on the weak or unlucky without just cause or concern. You saw me as a potential asset that could further your goals and just reached out and took it without any concern for what I wanted… you're no better than those that summoned me to this world. The only thing you have going for you is that you didn't kill me first.”

“I...I… I am sorry Mors, I really am. Initially, I was interested in someone who could resist the slave collars… if I could of back then, then maybe everything would be different.” stammered Verz as she cast her eyes downwards and into the fire before looking up. “What do you mean they killed you?.”

Although she only seemed a little tipsy she actually was rather drunk and it took a while for her to fully comprehend what Mors had said.

-”Owww shit. I pretty much just slapped the granddaddy of informational fillet steak into the face of a semi-drunk, female wolf beastkin who could kill me with her pinky... FML” [Mors]

“You were a slave?” asked Mors in the most disbelieving voice he could trying to change the topic.

“What do you mean they killed you? I thought you were summoned from another world?” repeated Verz in a domineering tone.

“Where do you think souls live? What happens when one leaves its body? Surely you're not as stupid as to believe that there’s a big well of souls dancing around waiting for someone kind enough to give them a body.” spat Mors as he leant over and grabbed the bottle from Verz before downing it in one go causing her to raise an eyebrow in surprise.

A warm, tingling feeling surged from his stomach and he felt his face start to flush. -”Strong stuff.”

Pulling two more bottles seemingly out of thin air Vers passed Mors one and sat back down on the log she was using as her makeshift seat, staring at him the entire time for him to continue.

“I have memories from my previous lives” started Mors when he realised he wasn't getting out of this without revealing something. “So I kind of know how I was brought here.”

“Lives?... How you were brought here?” questioned Verz with drunken curiosity. She couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or if it was Mors being overly cryptic but couldn't help but let the conversation drift from its initial purpose.

“...Do you believe in the gods?”