Grot. What a strange animal. At first sight, I feared it is a mindless beast hunting a pray. Soon it proved, its intellectual superiority. Grots are the tactician amongst animals. If you see one, you can be sure many others follow around. They use the weakest of their herd as baits. Truly, Grots are masterminds. I paid a cheap price for a chance of meeting and observing them. Only an arm.

“Beyond Yr”

Chapter 13, Page 167

Kuravel

24 years ago

Charcot left a day after Honetah had passed away. Conversations between Ling and Charcot have turned to a trickle. He’d come up with a profitable -formula and took it to the Red Cities. Ling felt empty. Suddenly, promised riches were a world away, hollow and unwanted. Her sister spent an entire day crying while Munateh went finishing, shutting himself completely. In her mourning, Ling closed herself in a tent and pulled out the letters from the madman from the Moor City. She was looking for confirmation that her decision had been all along in here, in these insane words. She sifted through them in a hurry, finding nothing but vague warnings. Then she picked the letter brought by Charcot on his last trip. He forgot about it! This must be it.

It was not.

Instead she found this.

Black smoke will bring you pain! Falter not and do nothing but wait. A man of caves and a snake will return what was torn. This will be a time of revelation and a final betrayal will come to light. It is but a pale shadow of terror that lies ahead. Ask the man, ask the snake to find and save, a child of a forest, a boy of sand, and the future of stars. You will know him as he carries a raven on his shoulder. If He dies, you die.

She dropped the letter as if her hands were on fire. What did she just read? It was even vaguer than previous letters …

*

Present, day 4

Ile’s slap was lightning fast and stung like the High Forest itself. Tenoch-Ling rolled over a table, knocking down a mug. She dropped with a heavy thump. Her sister wasn’t in the mood to forgive her that easily. Like a mad boar, she passed the table and would’ve kicked Tenoch-Ling in the head if not for Yamil’s leg.

“Are you insane, woman?” Yamil asked, he was angry but it was nothing next to Tenoch-Ile’s wrath.

“This bitch killed my father!”

“He was my father too,” Tenoch-Ling climbed up, her cheek aflame and red. It hurt so much, but this was the moment. She couldn’t crumble now. “If I let Honetah live, he’d have killed Charcot and without Charcot, Cape Town would’ve shared the fate of other small villages. Honetah couldn’t understand that we had no strength, no future.”

Tenoch-Ile toppled a table, panting. Between her and her sister stood Yamil. But with his broken arm, the stout woman might get through and strangle Tenoch-Ling. The mayor understood this very well and so she quickly turned to the Royalblood.

“I told you everything. Will you save Giliad now?”

The Royalblood downed his mug in case Ile started another brawl, then he said to the young bandit.

“We’re going.”

Tenoch-Ling relaxed. Too quickly.

“He’s—”

“I am not going to save this Giliad. I don’t care about you or him. Your problems are your own. Your argument turned out to be a weak one.”

“A liar!” Tenoch-Ling shouted, her stinging cheek forgotten. She was so furious, she discarded the fact that this man was a Royalblood and said to Yamil, “Execute the bandit for the kidnapping.”

The Royalblood stopped by the door and tipped his idiotic wide-brimmed hat. He squinted at Yamil whose composure didn’t waver. But when the head of guards made a move, the Royalblood said softly, “You won’t touch the boy.”

The mayor knew that fighting a Royalblood was out of the question. Yamil was not equipped to deal with such a threat at this moment. That nameless Royalblood was needed alive.

“I can pay you ten gold coins.”

Her sisters gasped. To her, it was an absurd amount. The Royalblood didn’t comment. He nodded to the young bandit and left the common room of the tavern. But they haven’t had a chance to utter a word when the Royalblood returned, thrown with colossal impetus. He smashed a wooden column and crashed against a wall, cracking it severely.

Tenoch-Ling’s first thoughts were that Giliad somehow got back from Soto. Then a darker vision formed and she began fearing the worst – Butcher.

It was neither.

A man that entered the common room was well-dressed in a military fashion, although not the Imperial. He had a build of a Royalblood – tall and strong. His skin was fair with a red tint, his hair was blonde. This one lived in the Red Cities although he’d been born somewhere far away.

“Which of you is Yami?”

“That’s me, my Lord,” Yamil kneeled down, while the thrown Royablood got to his feet.

“That was a mighty kick,” the Royalblood said.

“What’s this Yamil?” asked the mayor, getting redder with every second. Those people just trampled over her Cape Town and she was excluded. The head of guards quickly assured her that this was for the best. What was?

“Stay down, rabid dog,” the newcomer boomed.

The Royalblood was never going to obey the command. He started walking toward him …

The mayor has never been in a similar situation. She’s always had an upper hand and control. This territory was new to her. Tenoch-Ling didn’t like it. But before she could take a step forward and regain a trickle of control, another man stepped inside. This one made the Royalblood pause. Tenoch-Ling didn’t need an explanation of what she was seeing, it was the most dreaded outfit in the empire – the Imperial Royalblood Officer.

He had dark skin, short black hair, a multitude of expensive errings, and a nasty smile. What have you done, Yamil? She thought as the Imperial Officer swept the room with his glare.

“Get the bastard, Bartnick.”

Tenoch-Ling had never witnessed a feat of a Royalblood. And so, when the splinters exploded from beneath Bartnick’s feet, she dropped on the floor covering her head with her hands. She still stared as Bartnick (what a strange name) shot with blurring speed toward the nameless Royalblood and before the latter could react, pinned him to the floor, splintering it. Tenoch-Ling feared they’d fight and if the current state of the common room was any indication of their strength, they’d destroy the entire tavern, but strangely there was no struggle.

“Now, soldier, where’s that mayor of yours?” Yamil showed him without a shadow of hesitation. “We no longer need you, commoner.” With that, he ‘asked’ Tenoch-Ling and her sister to leave. The young bandit was neatly hidden out of the newcomers’ eyes.

Was this the … final betrayal?

“Wait …”