When Zhu returned to Parabellum, nearly three hundred zeraphs came with him. Virtually all the adults had volunteered to guard the temple, but the chieftains decided that such an honor would be reserved for the strongest individuals. They reasoned that if the luddites put them under siege, a lack of food and clean water would be the principal hardships the defenders would face. In that scenario, extra bodies would be worse than useless.

Merlin was still smoldering. He was no weakling. In a few weeks, his fingers would be good as new, but they dismissed him as if he were a cripple. So instead of getting the chance to prove himself like his friends, here he was staving off his mother’s attempts to spoon-feed him disgustingly over-seasoned food.

“I can take care of myself! Get that thing out of my face!”

“Stop being picky then!” she chided. “You’ve lost a lot of weight this past month. You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I’ll die of thirst if I take another bite of that stuff!”

When his mother continued to fuss over him, Merlin shoved another spoonful of slop into his mouth to appease her. He grimaced as it went down. “I think I’d rather starve at this point.”

“Is it really that bad?” When Merlin turned around, he saw a pretty face staring over his shoulder.

Manhood had found Merlin at an early age. Over six feet tall, the rugged teen sported a trimmed beard and a lean muscular build, physical markers that signaled a capacity for rough, yet tender love. The young zeraph had taken full advantage of his virility, with some whispering that even had a tryst with a woman twice his age, a rumor he neither confirmed nor denied. The young woman standing behind him was his type. So much so, he half-wondered if, Dàhóng Di—the tianlong of prosperity—specifically crafted her to entice him. If he had not recognized the girl, he would have been pulling out all of his tricks, but he was able to put a name to her face, so he merely greeted her with a nod.

“Hello Shrike.”

She blinked. “Have we met before?”

“Names Merlin. We’ve never spoken, but everyone knows you.”

Shrike’s ears turned a shade pinker. “Ah, I guess riding with Zhu draws a lot of attention.” In truth, Shrike had always been a notorious figure on account of her father. When his clan last met with the Guangs five years ago, he distinctly recalled the adults forbidding their children from playing with her. He had not been particularly cold to her, but he suspected she held a grudge against them all. A rather unsettling notion now that she had Zhulong's ear.

“Can I try some?” she asked.

He pushed his bowl towards her. Shrike took a small sip and instantly gagged.

“That is awful! Are all of you being fed this crap?” Merlin and his mother nodded.

Shrike stomped up to the cook across the room.

“How much salt did you put in this? I might as well be drinking sea water!”

The tokai chef gave her the stink eye. “Quit your gripin’! You should be grateful we’re even feeding you in the first place!”

“The stuff you're giving my people is inedible!”

The gecko adjusted his toque haughtily. “They’ve been served the same stuff the other omnivores get,” he pointed at a group of tegus that were happily chowing down. “Not my fault, you mutant apes have no taste!”

Shrike peered into the cauldron. “You actually think this tastes good?”

“Yeah, my guys seem to like their food extra seasoned,” a distinct voice interjected.

The mess hall went quiet as a huge blue shape slithered through the door. The zeraphs rose from their seats and prostrated themselves. Not wanting to be outdone, several zealots followed suit. The mercenaries rolled their eyes and continued eating.

“Get up you, weirdos.” Zhu lifted the nearest zeraph and planted her back onto a bench. “You have any idea how filthy these floors are? The last thing I need is for some sickness to spread because some filthy barbarian decided to put their dirty little fingers inside their mouth.”

Once his chastised followers left to go wash their hands, Zhu beckoned Shrike to come over.

“You just told me I could have the rest of this blue sun off,” Shrike complained.

“Well, that’s just how it is when you live in a military compound, you’re always technically on duty,” he was smiling, but it did not reach his eyes. She stiffened.

“What’s wrong?”

“A horde of luddites are on their way here.”

“How many of them?”

“Somewhere between three and five thousand.”

Shrike cocked her head. “That’s it? I don’t see why we should be worried. Even if they outnumbered us five to one, they’d have no chance of taking this city.”

“True, but there are enough of them to attract a lot of attention and there happens to be a giant hungry monster in this region.”

“Kaaslithe,” Shrike gasped.

Zhu nodded. “Not the most impressive titan I’ve seen, but it's big enough to do some real damage.”

“Your army can defeat it, can’t they?”

“I don't know what kind of abilities that it has but, yeah, we should be able to handle it. This isn’t the first time we dealt with an angry titan. Problem is, we might not have the stopping power to kill it before it smashes through our walls. If it does any serious damage to the fortress, we’ll have to burn through most of our heart stones on repairs. If that happens, we're in fuck city, especially if the zombies decide they don’t want to talk to us anymore.”

“How can I help?” she asked immediately. Shrike was no fool. She realized there was nothing she could do against the gigantic menace, but she refused to just cower within a building as it made its way towards them. She expected Zhu to mock her, but what came out of his mouth still managed to offend and surprise her.

“Have you ever wanted to be a priest?”

“Be serious for once,” she growled.

“I am. That wrinkly old ball bag that used to bully you keeps telling us about all the amazing abilities dragon priests have. If half of what he says is true, having one around could be really useful. Problem is ordaining someone is an expensive process and you have to be really selective. Apparently, it would be disrespectful to do it more than a few times a year."

“But why me?”

“Why not? You’re a borderline blue blood which puts you ahead of the others, at least physically. More importantly, I am pretty sure I can trust you. ”

“But I am the daughter of a heretic.”

“So? We're talking about you, not your dad. Aren’t you still a believer, or whatever?”

“I am still loyal to Kanghui and the tianlongs, but I’ve had...doubts.”

“I’m sure even the biggest extremists do at some point.”

“I just can’t become a priest! It takes years of study to be initiated! There are rites I need to pass.”

“I bet we can skip a few steps in the process if we throw enough aorta stones into the snake’s mouth,” he whispered. “Worst-case scenario, he just tells you no.”

“What you are suggesting is the height of sacrilege.”

“You did say you wanted to be my equal. Becoming a wizard is probably a good way to bridge the gap between us.” He waited for her response, but she just continued to glare at him. He glanced at his psychic transponders and clacked his jaw. “Gotta bounce. The titan will be here in four or five rotations, so you gotta give me an answer within two. Smell you later, Shrikey.”

Shrike watched him go sourly. It was typical of him to thrust such a heavy decision on her out of the blue and then just waltz off. She was tempted to run after him and immediately decline his proposal.. No doubt that would have been the wisest course of action. She didn't possess the credentials to justify such a promotion. Kanghui was liable to smite her for even approaching his temple with such intention.

Yet, despite realizing the foolishness of this plan, she dared to hope that Kanghui would accept her into his clergy. She may not have been trained in religious matters, but she was devout. She had hung onto her faith even when her father encouraged her to abandon it. Surely that had to count for something?

Shrike shook her head in irritation as she plopped down on a bench. She had been looking forward to spending time with her people. How was she going to enjoy herself knowing that the Silent Death was on its way here?

The sound of creaking wood told her that somebody had taken a seat next to her. Merlin smiled at her. “Mind if I sit here?”

“You already are.”

Merlin laughed and rubbed the back of his. “Sorry, I was just really looking forward to speaking with you earlier.

Shrike flushed. “Really?”

Merlin’s teeth were white as virgin snow. “Of course. Your clan wrote you off as dead when the savages attacked. Didn’t you see the look on their faces when you showed up?”

“I thought they were all just staring at Zhu and his animals.”

“Well, yeah, they were, but you still gave them quite the shock. Everybody is wondering how you managed to march all the way here by yourself. Mind sharing the tale with me?”

Words poured from Shrike's mouth like water gushing through a broken dam. She told him about her encounter with the werewolves, the joys of flight, and somewhat exaggerated retellings of successful hunts. Merlin listened to her intently, only speaking to make an occasional comment or in response to a direct question. By the time she had run out of things to talk about, the night was nearly upon them. Shrike took a long slip. That was the longest she had ever spoken.

Merlin stifled a yawn and rose from her seat. “Well, you certainly lived an interesting life. Thanks for talking to me, Shrike.”

“Can we meet again tomorrow?” She chastised herself for sounding so desperate and clingy.

“Of course.” His kind smile caused her to redden.

A loud slam ruined the moment. A sneering carakhan scanned the room. Recognition flashed in its fierce eyes when they fell upon Shrike.

“I’ve been looking for you!”

It took a moment for Shrike to realize it was the same bird that pressed a blade against her throat a while back.

“What do you want?”

“Our duel. We must postpone it.”

Merlin shrank back from the ill-tempered avian. “You’re going to fight that thing?”

“I’m going to beat that thing,” Shrike said confidently. The carakhan just scoffed. “Why do you need to reschedule it?”

The bird glanced at Merlin and the other zeraph listening in on their conversation. “The archduke will tell you if you don’t already know.”

“I do know what you're talking about. I just don’t see how it has any bearing on our match. It’s not like a single bird will make a difference.”

“It is my duty to defend Parabellum! We must prepare for the titan’s coming.”

“Sounds like you found a convenient excuse to run away from this fight.”

The carakhan reached for her sword hilt. “I would split you from neck to groin if the archduke were not so fond of you!”

“You’re pathetic, you know that? You and all the other zealots. Every time you open your mouth, his name comes out! Can’t you think for yourselves?”

The carakhan was trembling with rage. “You are trying my patience, ape.”

Shrike just smirked. “And so what if I am? You said it yourself, you can’t hurt me. You’re too afraid of annoying your master. It’s funny, you’re so desperate to please him, but have no idea who he is or what he wants. He wouldn't mind if we went through with this match. If anything, he’d be disappointed if we cancelled. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure to get his permission, since that is so important to you.”

The carakhan thrust her beak into Shrike’s face. “You better hope you're wrong. If he still approves of this bout, I will thrash you to an inch of your life.”

The two glared at one another for several moments. The carakhan, annoyed by Shrike’s lack of fear, gave her a spiteful shove and stalked off.

Shrike balled her fists and was ready to chase after the bird but Merlin held her back.

“The Guangs said a lot of things about you but none of them mentioned that you were insane.” His joking tone removed most of the sting of that insult but she did not like the judgemental look in his eyes.

“I’m sick of being disrespected; I’m not going to put up with it anymore.”

******

As Shrike predicted, Zhu saw no need to postpone their bout. The walls were already stocked with ammunition. No more preparation could be done. The only thing left to do was await Kaaslithe’s arrival.

The match drawn in a considerable crowd. Nearly all the zeraphs came to support her. Hundreds of mercenaries and zealots wagered bets on how quickly the carakhan would beat her.

The attention made Shrike more uncomfortable than she already was. Zhu had outfitted her in full plate and a restrictive close helm. The armor was far lighter than she expected, but she was melting in it. On a more positive note, the staff he equipped her with felt familiar. If a blade had been attached, it would have made the perfect spear.

Her opponent also wore armor, though the carakhan’s was made of a weaker and lighter alloy called aeronite. To Shrike’s annoyance, the carakhan imposed a significant handicap on herself. The wooden scimitar she selected was a third the length of her quarterstaff. It almost looked like a bowie knife in her huge hands.

Zhu slithered into the middle of the ring. He wore a ridiculous black-and-white shirt.

“Been a while since I busted out the referee suit. Takes me back to those golden days when me and Hustleman made big bucks off a bunch of degenerate gamblers. Alright, enough of the nostalgia. Let’s get on with this fight, yeah? On the right, weighing it in at—I dunno, six hundred, maybe seven hundred pounds, we got sergeant Striga! On the left, we got my personal backscr-I mean squire, Shrike. She’s a bit on the small side, but she’s taken down her fair share of neanderthals and shanked a werewolf.” Zhu waited for the zeraph applause to die down. “So, here are the rules. If a fighter scores a hit that would have killed or incapacitated an unarmored person, they get a point. If a round ends in a mutual "kill" both of them get a point. Bout will be out of twenty unless someone quits early or gets a concussion or something. Try not to maim each other. I’ll be very cranky if anyone takes any permanent injuries. Ok, you can go ahead and beat the shit out of each other now.”

The fight commenced immediately. Striga rushed forward, taking Shrike by surprise. The carakhan side-stepped her thrust and slashed her across the chest.

“Point to Striga.”

Shrike cursed. She had hoped her smaller size would confer a speed advantage, but clearly that wasn’t the case.She would have to rely on her superior reach to win.

Shrike got three thrusts off in the second round before Striga seized her weapon with her jaws and poked her belly. By the fifth engagement, Shrike's face was red with frustration.

Striga’s smirk was the smuggest she had ever seen.

That infuriating look gave way to rage when Shrike’s staff bounced off the carakhan’s helmet.

“The tip hit. Point to Shrike.”

Striga’s fury cost her another match. Shrike easily avoided her telegraphed swings and jabbed her neck.

“You're better than I thought,” Striga conceded. “But your steak ends here.”

This time it was Striga’s turn to throw her weapon. Shrike avoided the spinning blade, but was not ready for the follow-up tackle. She smashed Striga over the head, but her larger opponent casually disarmed her. Instead of drawing her practice dagger, Striga forced Shrike back onto her feet and held her in a clinch. Shrike tried to shove the bird off of her, but it was like trying to move a yak. She hissed through her teeth when the carakhan smashed an armored knee cap into her belly.

“Point to Striga.”

“What? I didn’t take a fatal hit!”

“Uh, yeah you did. That would have turned your ribs to dust if you weren’t wearing all that metal.”

In the following bouts, Shrike was careful to avoid getting into any more draining grappling contests with her much stronger opponent. Anytime Striga got past the point of her staff, Shrike would abandon it and draw her wooden dagger. This maneuver would inevitably ruin any chance of her prevailing the bout but it prevented them from devolving into a wrestling match.

At least, that was the case up until Flufflepuffle came out of nowhere and bowled Zhu over. Whilst the referee struggled to push the overly affectionate dinosaur away, Striga landed an oblique kick that should have ended the round. The carakhan grabbed her staggered foe and tossed her across the ring. On and on this went, Shrike unable to do anything save curse and wheeze as the wind was knocked out of her.

“You know, you can throw just this round,” Zhu suggested as he grudgingly brushed Flufflepuffle’s tail.

Shrike realized that would have been the most intelligent play. Striga was clearly trying to gas her out so the carakhan could overwhelm her in the later rounds, but she couldn’t bear the thought of letting the other zeraphs see her give up.

“You mock my devotion to the archduke,” Striga hissed as she lifted Shrike by her gorget and slammed her to the ground. “But what are you without his backing? Nothing but a mouthy little weakling!”

“Fuck you!” Shrike snarled as she plucked a fistful of feathers from Striga’s face. The bird released her grip with an undignified squawk. Shrike snatched Striga’s dagger and jabbed into the carakhan’s neck. Shrike’s satisfied smirk didn’t leave her face, even when the enraged carakhan knocked her down with a kick to the chest.

“Red card!” Zhu shouted. “Minus one point for you, Striga, you cheater, cheater, potato peeler!”

Cathartic as Shrike’s third win was, Striga accomplished what she had set out to do. Sweat dripped down her skin and the moistness of her breath clung to her helmet. Striga breathed deeply and easily.

The next duel ended in an instant. Striga struck Shrike’s helmet with such force her wooden sword snapped in half.

Shrike barely had time to clear splinters from her visor before Striga was upon her again.