Gryff followed his dad. They walked away from the meeting, heading back to their settlement. He was scratching his head and looking furtively at the ground. He was confused. “Could you explain again? Why do I have to go with them? I mean, I like Jano and all, but I’d rather stay here and look after our lands with you especially while we’re under attack.”

His father hurried onward, not really listening. His breathing was rapid and he was pushing his long hair back almost manically. Gryff looked at him with worry, but he couldn’t question his father. They passed by the blockades and through the guarded pass. It had been an immense effort to make old pathways ready for each of the settlements. After all, they are all under constant alert and the gondolas were all halted. They worked due to the momentum of the downhill gondola propelling its opposite one back up, so the engineers who cared for it were up in arms about it being stopped. They had sharp changed their tune when Afan had given them a tour of the front lines. Gryff was worried for his father, but he admired his resolve. Though he had to admit the attacks had been lesser of late and so perhaps stopping the machines had done more harm than it was worth. Though the idea of the Shimmer hitching a ride to the top of the settlements using their own machinations would cause more upset than starting them going again.

Each settlement had a delegation of soldiers fortifying its main access points, so the usual paths were slow. The old paths had been tracked, excavated and made ready again. The old paths used by the clans to fight one another. Only the oldest warriors remembered. However, it meant that reinforcements were slow to arrive if they were ever needed, as the paths were more suited to raiding than anything else. Luckily, the hills were an otherwise excellent defensive position. They’d had to be, given the constant warmongering of its citizens over the years.

After much wrangling and Afan barking orders at soldiers, most of which were his soldiers, they reached their homeland. There was a pit of constant white hot fire in front of the Royal House. The pit was an utter spectacle, and it required a coterie of their strongest warriors to keep hot. Not much could get past it however and he knew there was a similar one waiting at the bottom of the settlement alongside their defenses. The Berserker Flame was to be conjured as standard operating procedure when under attack.

The town itself seemed much more dull here than it had when they had left for the festival on the seventh day of the seventh month. There was no joy, no fun displays of fire magic for the children. When they had left, many of their friends and clansmen joined them. Gryff remembered the songa and the playful banter between the clans. Now there was just anger. Just fear. Gryff hadn’t seen his citizens like this since he was a child, after a raid on their home from an old foe. That was the first time he had seen the forces of Molinia mobilised and he had realised what it was to be part of the Alliance.

He walked through the gates of his home. It was relatively small in stature as far as royal residences went. The Shadow Air Clan‘s palace was larger and more grand in comparison. It was similar in size to Zabar’s residence, yet much more opulent on the inside. They walked through the door which led straight to the main hall. Glass and red hand-blown trinkets filled the walls, crafted by their Fireblowers and the floors were laced with thick hand crafted rugs wherever a rug could be laid. The throne was a melded piece of fine metals, all coalesced into one, giving it a rainbow kind of effect.

He caught up to his father. “Why am I going!?” He shouted when he was confident no one was in earshot.

His father stopped walking. He checked around to make sure there was nobody around. He then bent down, his adult frame hulking over Gryff. He was still but a boy in comparison and he felt like it in that moment.

“You are going to represent our clan. You will show this favourite of Zabar’s what a true prince of the Berserker Fire clan can do and they will be in our debt for their assistance.” He took one final look over his shoulder and returned his gaze to his son. Gryff felt himself tighten when he noticed his father’s use of the Chaos-Shaper King’s name and not his title.

“I don’t trust them. If there is anything strange occurring, I want you to be there and to observe. Act as is necessary. One day this clan will be yours to command. You need to think of the greater good.”

Gryff stood motionless, keenly aware that his father expected a response. Why Jano? he thought. What use is the weakling from Qursa? He slowly nodded his head to give his father something, as he tossed thoughts around his mind.

“What do you mean to act if necessary?” He said. “That could start another war within Molinia. How is that good for our people?” He was shocked at his words, but he hadn’t been able to stop them from coming.

“I do not know. Not necessarily. But if there is more to this journey than simply bringing their army home, I want to know about it and I want you to act first. Keep your wits about you. They brought these attacks to our lands and that led to your brother’s death. I am not so sure Qursa is as much our enemy as they claim.”

Afan gave his son a strong look and then walked away, leaving Gryff in a state of mild panic. What had his father volunteered him for?

——-

Dariea clattered around their accommodation, with a large bag as she scooped seemingly random items into it. The bag was enchanted apparently, one which could fit an entire universe inside but still fit neatly onto your back. He had thought to ask about it but his master’s demeanor didn’t suggest that this was a time for curiousity.

“So where are we going?” Jano shouted over the clamour. “Goshnia? Where exactly is that?”

“Well it’s almost two weeks hard ride, but now that I have recovered, I should be able to Jump us much of the way. Though admittedly it is harder when we are mounted and when there are four of us going rather than two.” Her tone worsened as she finished the sentence.

“Can’t they send a pigeon or something?” Jano offered. He had no idea how people got messages to each other. “Wouldn’t that be easier. Why couldn’t you just go yourself?” He almost regretted adding the last bit, as if he was ungrateful that he was included.

“Yes, probably. But the situation is a little more tricky than that. You see, as you may have noticed. The clans are at peace with each other, but they don’t trust one another. So when the Chaos-Shaper’s hear that they are demanded to return to the homeland, when that is against convention, they may get the wrong impression. A bird may not convey the context of our message quite as we wish.”

Jano paused. It made sense, the last thing the Molinian’s needed was for a war to be started because the army of the Chaos-Shapers got the wrong impression. “That still doesn’t fully explain why we have to go.” Jano said.

Dariea looked at him and smiled. “We aren’t just a replacement for a carrier pigeon. These things require a personal touch. Also, there is something I want to investigate on the journey. Remember when I was discussing better ways of using chaos? Well I think I might have found something we can use.”

“Okay, like what? A weapon?”

“Potentially,” Dariea said.

“So you have to be the one to go and get it?” None of this sounded that important to him.

She gave him a quick look. Jano tensed slightly, he had spoken out of turn and he knew it. She didn’t scold him as he might have expected.

“Yes.” For a second, he thought that was all she was going to say. “We can go without too much suspicion, if I can safely channel this… resource, we could have an extra string in our bow against Eradin and well… if we’re caught, they can’t implicate the Chaos-Shapers. They have plausible deniability.”

“Who’s they?” He wanted to ask, but before he had time a rush of masked attendants poured into their house. the King walked in casually, as though he paid call on his residents often. Perhaps he did, Jano didn’t know. He knew that it was an honour to be allowed to share the room with Zabar, particularly for an outsider. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was getting caught up in schemes which were way above him. Then again, wasn’t that always the way with Dariea anyway. He couldn’t free his wife without her and she had promised to help. He still trusted her to her word, so any action she needed to undertake, he would join.

Dariea straightened and welcomed him. Jano dropped the clothes he was shoving into his pack and joined the two of them. the King told his attendants to leave. The masked attendants swiftly poured out in a courteous and professional manner. It was an impressive sight to see but Jano was a little worried about what would be said when it was only the three of them remaining.

“Should I excuse myself, your majesty?” He offered as the sudden fear that he was overstepping ran through his mind.

“Did I ask you to?” He responded.

Jano dropped his head and apologised. What a stupid thing to say, of course he would have said if he wanted me to leave.

“Do not fret. I am in your house, I have intruded if anything.” Zabar dropped the formality he usually showed when Jano had seen him in court. “Dariea. I wanted to speak to you finally before you take your journey. I did not expect Afan to be so insistent. Do you think it will compromise your journey?”

He seemed sincere in his concern, but Jano wondered how much a man couldn’t know the likely actions of his closest allies. Particularly after the years of threats and war.

“There will be no way of preventing them joining me investigating what we have discussed. Unless you have thought of a worthy excuse? My best plan at this stage is to try and split the group when we make it to the main army in Goshnia. Not particularly original, but if done with speed, Jano and I may be able to escape for a time.”

Zabar thought for a long moment, his bushy eyebrows pointed downward as he did so. “The army is my priority. See that they are brought here as soon as possible. We do not know exactly what Eradin is thinking.” He started to pace slowly, examining the empty shelves which had a thin layer of dust resting in place. It was Jano’s responsibility to keep the place clean, but he had spent most of his time training at the school, or privately in his quarters. His face flushed red with embarrassment, but the King had already moved on.

“Take the whole group with you into the Freelands, but do not stray too far. We don’t know the situation further west. If you are successful then whatever happens, our plans will hardly be a secret. That way, Afan can’t accuse me of anything when his son was present for the entire thing.” He paused, then added. “Make it look like you were accidentally waylaid before you go off exploring. Use your illusion magic. If they think it was all planned I’ll be accused of dishonesty or some such nonsense.”

“Okay. As you wish. As long as our arrangement is honoured.”

“Of course.” the King laughed in an odd sort of way. Then he decided that he had had enough and walked out of their dwelling. His entourage followed and Jano thought the entire thing was plain odd.

When they were alone, he hoped for an explanation. But after a few long moments of silence, it became clear there was none coming.

“Arrangement?” He offered.

“Pack your damn things will you and learn to trust me.” She snapped in a semi-humourless way, but a tone that certainly brooked no response.