The traditions of the north are brutal. Men and women alike train for years to throw their lives away in an endless war against the never-ending hordes of the Lords. Their children and their children’s children follow in their footsteps without question. If I had to guess, all the bodies dropped in the north could reach the height of the Peaks.

The James are not exempt from the harsh practices of the fort. Unlike most nobles, they get their hands dirty. And bloody. Alana’s family has suffered as many, if not more, casualties, as all the families they govern. The current duke has had eight children between two wives and one wartime fling. Half of them have died on the uncompromising battlefield beyond their territory. Three of them were Kalise’s sons. Her only remaining child is her youngest, Khan.

From what Alana says, Khan is very different from his brothers. Where they were the usual bloodthirsty warriors Victory produces en masse, Khan is very much not a fighter. He prefers to avoid violence entirely. In the north, such an attitude is considered cowardly and can get a man disowned or worse. It’s especially terrible in prominent families and he is from the most prominent family of all.

Kalise’s youngest son was saved by his unusual talents. The saints must have recognized the desire of his spirit and gifted him skills to avoid the violence that plagues his home. He is adept at going unnoticed, even amongst monsters, making him the most talented scout in Victory.

He also has a gift for cartography. He is the only one with the ability to map the north and that is an invaluable skill, coward or not. His reputation is a mix of fame and infamy. While his standing in the north can be called into question, what is indisputable is he is one of the most important individuals in the north.

Such an individual is lying on the ground a few steps away from me, pinned to the ground with an imp on his back. I can’t see much of him beneath his dark hood, but he has his mother’s bronze skin. Not her height. He’s rather…diminutive. Something that might be helping with all his sneaking.

“Bell, let him up.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I ask. “He did sneak in.” And so far, her siblings haven’t had the best intentions toward her. Or at the very least, they’ve had questionable motives. There’s no reason to believe this Khan will be any different.

“Khan isn’t a fighter. It’s impressive that he got this close without being noticed but he’s pretty useless once he’s discovered.”

“Thank you, sister,” a quiet voice grumbles.

“You’re welcome, brother,” she returns sarcastically. “I think you look much better with your head attached to your body.”

“While hurtful, Alana’s words are correct. I am little threat as an adversary. Please tell the creature on top of me and the green woman to stop releasing such potent killing intent. It makes me…nauseous.”

Seriously?

I look to Alana and she shrugs. “I never heard about mean looks making him sick but it wouldn’t surprise me. More importantly, I really want to know why my brother who is more elusive than a clear sky sought me out in the middle of the campaign.”

“It is rather important,” he mutters.

“…fine. Let him up.”

Bell slips from his back but doesn’t move away, four eyes narrowed as she watches our unexpected guest. Kierra is also watching him intently, though some of the aggressiveness has drained from her posture.

Despite the rapidly deescalating air, Khan takes no chances. He moves with exaggerated care as he gets on his fours and scrambles back till his heels hits one of the walls of our shelter. Then he puts his back to it and places his hands on the ground, palms up. He’s going to great lengths to appear harmless.

“It is rude to enter another’s home with your face covered,” Kierra says.

For the first time, Khan hesitates. The suggestion clearly makes him uncomfortable. However, Kierra’s displeasure is more uncomfortable and he pulls back his hood.

I blink. Given his mother’s more…striking looks and his father’s very square features, that is not the face I was expecting. If I had to pick a family member he resembles most, I would go with Yulianna. His soft chin and big round eyes can be called boyish at best. His scraggly beard is entirely unsuited to his face. The same for the wild, curly brown hair falling into his face.

He does have the James family stoicism. His thin lips are pressed in a stern frown as he watches us with a placid gaze. “Forgive me for the interruption. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Khan Soft-Thunder James. I—"

“Soft-Thunder?” I interrupt.

“Blame my mother. She wanted to give me a powerful name but I apparently cried so softly, she would have felt ridiculous naming me just Thunder. Hence, Soft-Thunder.”

“Uh…huh.” Sounds like that woman. “I suppose we should introduce ourselves.”

“No need. You are Lourianne Tome, Kierra D’Atainna, and Belolial,” he says nonchalantly, pointing us out in turn.

[Hm? What has you so tense, my summoner?] Geneva, still wandering about the camp, whispers into my mind. [I see. How interesting.]

Interesting? Try unsettling. “How do you know our names?”

“Someone told them to me. They also sent me to find you.”

“This is not the time for games,” Alana snaps. “I think well of you, Khan. That’s why we’re talking casually and all your limbs are intact. Yank me about like our siblings and I’ll treat you like I treat them.”

He sighs. “That would be a tragedy. I did not come here to be an enemy, Alana.”

“Then explain yourself. Quickly and clearly. Starting with who sent you here.”

“I will explain myself clearly but it may not be quickly. There is quite a bit to discuss. And if I may, I would impose on you for a meal. I caught a whiff of what your army is being served. If you are remembered for nothing else sister, you will be known as the commander with the best marching grub.”

“Truly, a remarkable feat. I can go to my grave in peace.”

“Pet, go and get us all something to eat,” Kierra says. “Go on. I am enough to contain the soft shadow.”

With a look at me to confirm, Bell scampers out of the shelter to retrieve dinner. Khan relaxes at her departure. She really does make him nervous. Which is strange because the entire point of the virtue masquerading as an imp is to make people underestimate her. Khan sees right through her disguise. That means he knows more about us than our names, which makes this encounter several times stranger.

“Don’t you dare say you’re not talking until you eat,” Alana practically growls.

“I wouldn’t try your patience that far sister.” I am struggling to see how Kalise raised this polite man. “For this to make sense, I need to start at the beginning.” He sighs heavily. “My aversion to…our culture is well-known. Victory is not the place for someone of my temperament. But, I am still a James. I didn’t want to walk away from the war a coward. Not to mention if I did, Mammy would hunt me down and chop off my man parts.”

“Mammy?” I chuckle.

“She is a lovely woman after a little bloodshed.”

“Sounds like my wife.”

I get my first smile from Khan, the corner of his lips turning up a fraction. I find myself returning it and relaxing. It’s hard to stay on guard against someone trying very hard to not appear threatening.

“Hey,” my impatient future saint barks, glaring at both of us. His presence is really unnerving her. Which, fair, is unsurprising, given every member of her family makes her nervous.

“Yes. To avoid spending my life fighting an endless horde of monsters, I decided to use my strengths to contribute to the cause. I ventured into the north by myself, intent on mapping the whole of it. I especially wanted to find the Lords of Winter. After all, the Lords are the commanders. If they die, the war ends. And through the guidance of the ancestors, I found them. Or, it is more accurate to say they found me.”