Helbram’s eyes fluttered open slowly, but the ache in his heart continued unabated, unaffected by the usual morning dullness over his other senses. He shifted in his cot until he sat at its edge, breaths deep and slow to calm the pain. His hands rubbed over his face and cradled it as he sat in silence, the echoes of unfulfilled dreams bouncing through his mind. He knew that the girl wasn’t real, a vision of a future that would no longer come to pass, one that he thought he hardened his heart to many moons ago.

  Yet, why did it hurt just as much when he first saw it?

  He closed his eyes and lifted his head up, taking in a final deep breath. Pushing away the girl’s smiling face, those eyes that were the same as his, should have been easy by now. It still wasn’t, and so he resigned himself to the torment of her visage until it finally faded away, the wake of her absence turning pain into an empty void that gnawed a larger gap in his soul.

  The tent’s entrance flapped open as footsteps thundered in. “Oi, sleepy head, the beasts may be hibernatin’ but that doesn’ mean you ha-... are you alright?” Leaf’s tone had shifted from light to concern the moment he was fully under the canvas.

  “I’m-” Helbram sighed. “I am fine.” He opened his eyes and flashed his friend a small smile. “Did I really sleep in that much?”

  The hunter’s eyes narrowed at him, but whatever furrowed his brow did not press any further. “Yes, usually you would have been awake about an hour ago.”

  “Well, I blame you,” Helbram said as he stood up. He stretched his arms and let a groan slip through his teeth when his muscles started to relax. “Had you not chosen such comfortable hides to sleep on, I would not have been so lulled into a deep slumber.”

  Leaf scoffed. “Don’t blame me for havin’ good taste.” He looked Helbram in the eyes again, a searching air to his own sky blue irises, but once again he did not press any further. “Anyways, get ready, I’m sure we’re bound to have a busy day.”

  “No doubt…” Helbram hefted his armor, which was piled neatly next to his cot, onto the hides and laid it out. “Has breakfast been started?”

  “Aye, and with a pot of tea, too.” Leaf turned and stopped once he reached the entrance of the tent. “Consderin’ that we did most of the work, we’re expecting a heavy gratuity for our services.”

  “I can see a rather lonesome tour of woodchopping in my future,” Helbram said in a dull tone.

  “I wouldn’t say lonesome, there’ll be plenty of ribbing involved.” His companion flashed him a grin and stepped out of the tent.

  Helbram could only follow after it with a shake of his head and a smirk to himself. Minutes passed as he strapped on his brigandine, the black armor piece fitting snug over his broad chest. His boots followed next, then his pauldrons, but he kept his hands free of his gauntlets for the time being and strapped those to his waist. After slipping a hand through his hair to brush it into the semblance of order, he picked up his helmet and examined its surface. The armor piece, despite the enchantment that was placed on it, was scuffed and nicked in various places; the consequences of battles that had been fought at a pace many would find too frequent. It was recently polished, a small project of Helbram’s own while they were on the road, and when he examined his visor, he expected his own tired face to be looking at him.

  The girl stared back at him instead.

  He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes once again to let the sting of her face fade away. Upon opening them, she was gone, and his face was staring back at him, a clear mask trying to conceal the pain that smouldered beneath.

  “It is just a dream, Helbram,” he admonished himself while he strapped the helmet to the other side of his waist.

  After taking another moment to gather himself and make his mask not so transparent, he grabbed his shield and flipped it idly in his palms as he stepped out of the tent. The sizzling of a frying pain greeted him first, followed by faint scents of eggs and a few sausages, luxuries they had picked up in Dunwich not so long ago. Soft scents of black tea slipped through the smell at times, and the combination made him all too aware of the rumbling in his stomach. Jahora stooped over the fire pit, humming a tune to herself as she shifted pans from directly over the flames to just off to the side of the burning wood.

  “Morning, Jahora. Deciding to start this excursion off on a high note, I see.” Helbram took a seat on a fallen log that had been rolled next to the fire.”

  “But of course,” the Mage said in a chipper tone, “and we can only keep such foods for so long, even if we did manage to procure an icebox.” She tapped her wooden spatula against the edge of the pan and let it hang off of its edge before giving Leaf an expectant stare. “I leave it to our hunter to manage our food supply from now on.”

  Leaf snorted. “So I get the supplies but I’m not allowed to cook, is that how it is?”

  “It’s not my fault you burnt breakfast last,” Jahora countered.

  “I’m takin’ no blame for that.” His ears perked up at the sound of pattering. “There’s the real culprit right now.” He turned and caught Shadow mid leap before cradling the cub in his arms. The black wolf panted happily as Leaf rubbed the top of his head aggressively. “This oaf just had to look at me with such an adorable face, how could I resist not pettin’ him with my full attention?” He wrapped his hands around Shadow’s face and scrunched its features before pointing the beast at Jahora, who chortled at the sight.

  “You may have a point, but only a slight one.” She left the hunter to his bliss and focused her attention to Helbram. “Care for a spot of tea?”

  “Always,” he said.”

  The mage poured the steaming, herbal scented brew into a tin cup and handed that to him. It might have been too hot in normal circumstances, but in the midst of the morning chill, his fingers were thankful for the relief.

  “Honey?” Jahora offered, holding up a small jar.

  “Not today, no.” He sipped at the bitter drink and looked over at the tent opposite to his. “Are the others still asleep?”

  “Indeed.” The Mage poured a cup for herself. “Elly spent most of the night pouring over her notebooks, rather obsessively, I may add, while Aria is just sleeping in.” She clicked her teeth. “A rather bad habit to pick up.”

  “Indeed,” Helbram said, “it is truly a mystery where she could have learned such behavior. You are up much earlier than usual, by the way.”

  “Nonsense, this is when I’m always up. I just happen to linger in bed a bit longer afterwards.”

  Helbram shook his head and let the small woman get back to her devices. His eyes strayed to the airship for a moment, the fading emptiness in his chest finally washed away as he traced its intricate make to the sky. His thoughts drifted to what may lay in wait in the structure’s interior, which started a stirring in his chest that nearly brought him to his feet right there. Such a high was not meant to last, for at the corner of his vision, he saw Leaf staring towards the mercenary’s camp.

  He followed his friend’s gaze and saw that one of the mercenaries, a younger man with less stubble on his chin than the others, was walking towards them. The man’s eyes darted between Helbram and Leaf, unsure of which of them to focus on. Eventually, they settled on the hunter, who was not shy about his confusion when the man walked up to him.

  “Xanchil wants to see you.” His eyes darted to the breakfast that was in the midst of cooking, and not so subtly licked his lips at the sight.

  Leaf frowned. “Why?”

  The mercenary shrugged. “Dunno, he just said he wanted to speak to the leader of this party.”

  The hunter’s mouth opened, a correction no doubt ready to spring from the tip of his tongue, but Helbram spoke first.

  “His duties will leave him otherwise occupied, at the moment.”

  Leaf’s eyes widened and he turned to Helbram, but he said nothing when the warrior subtly raised a finger that only the hunter could see. “I can speak in his stead.”

  “I dunno about that,” the man said in a wary tone, “Xanchil is very peculiar about his orders.”

  “Then leave such things between me and him.” He stood up and motioned for the mercenary to take the lead. “Shall we?”

  He gave Leaf a final glance as he was led to the mercenary camp, meeting his companion’s continued confusion with a small wave to let him know that there was a reason behind his actions. One that he hoped would pay off, given who he was dealing with.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Upon his approach to the camp, he took a measure of those that walked in its confines. To his surprise, not many of the men were out and about. It was still morning, but late enough that he had expected most to be awake. Instead, only a handful of them were outside or emerging from their tents, still rubbing their eyes or letting yawns stretch their jaws as they plopped around their semblance of a firepit. The place wasn’t a mess, but it felt… lived in, like the piles of rations and other supplies fell into designated messes as opposed to being laid out in an orderly fashion. The only thing that wasn’t like this were their weapons, which were either laid out on tables and spaced to allow for easy access or strapped to each of the men’s waists. Helbram did not feel like any of them were going to make use of their armaments anytime soon, but he knew better than to assume that they possessed no martial reflexes at all.

  The scent of the camp caught his attention next. Like its layout, the smell did not indicate an overt lack of cleanliness amongst the men, but there was a… musk that lingered in the air that he knew could only be associated with a group of men growing too comfortable in their station. He was all too familiar with the lull that would soon be followed by restlessness, and he could see the beginnings of that in the envious gazes as they glanced over at the breakfast being cooked from his camp. He had no worry that the men would act upon such desires, but he made a note of such reactions for later. He did not catch sight of Duren in the camp, nor Logan, either.

  “Where is your captain?”

  The young man gave a confused look, “Captain? You mean Logan? He and Duren went out on patrol this morning. They’re probably taking a look around inside now.” He tilted his head towards the airship. “On our side, of course.”

  Helbram rubbed his chin. “I see…” He said nothing more and followed the mercenary to the large tent at the back of their camp. The man hesitated stepping past the threshold and opted to hold the flap open for Helbram instead.

  The warrior gave him a nod and stepped inside, and was immediately struck by the smell. Sharp citrus presented itself first, mixed with a suffocating musk that made him pause and blink his eyes to be sure if such a combination was even real. The first thing that his mind processed it as was gaudy, and this carried into the layout of the tent itself. An abundance of wealth lay within Xanchil’s domain. Rugs of scarlet and gold thread plastered and overlapped themselves across the floor, not even allowing an inch of dirt to show. That intent appeared to show for the rest of the space as well, as even the borders of the canvas were hidden by hung tapestries depicting far off and nonexistent lands alike. The one that hung across the ceiling was the permanent image of the evening sun, an impressive work to be sure, but one that, in its current environment, lacked the warmth that it should have carried entirely.

  The semblance of a “bed” lay at the back of the tent, crafted from piled cushions of red, blue, and purple with designs of no discernible pattern embroidered with threads of gold and silver. This visual noise carried into the piles of trinkets and decorations that were splayed across the place in masses that displayed only their splendor, but none of their substance. Xanchil sat at the center of the tent, seated on a stool that was in front of a table crafted from wood of a dark grain, also embellished with carvings too numerous to count. The simplest thing about it was the chessboard that sat on its surface, yet this too could not escape the curse of garishness, as its checkered pattern was the result of polished black and white marble. Its pieces were of a similar make, and the edges of the board were detailed in gold etchings that, at this point, provoked a sigh to build within Helbram’s chest.

  He let it sink and approached the zechanil slowly. The starborne did not rise to meet him, and instead regarded him with a dispassionate air.

  “We requested to speak with your leader,” he said, his breathy tone blaring through the gills on his cheek.

  So that is how it is…

  “He’s busy,” Helbram said, altering his tone from his usual cadence. “I thought I’d come here instead.”

  Xanchil’s eyes narrowed, and he motioned to the board. “We caught sight of a board within your wagon and thought discussions would be better over a game.” There was a weight to the zechanil’s voice that indicated the implication behind that statement.

  Helbram chose to ignore it. “I guess I can, I warn you though, I’m pretty good at this.” He slipped into the seat and slouched over the board. “Who goes first?”

  A twitch disturbed Xanchil’s still expression. “You have the white pieces, so it would be your move.”

  “Right, forgot about that.” Helbram moved his hand over the pieces, wiggling his fingers as he went back and forth over his pawns while biting his lip.

  A sigh slipped from Xanchil’s gills, but he said nothing.

  “And… there,” Helbram shifted the pawn four spaces from the left two spaces ahead.

  Xanchil moved the knight on his left forward and to the right. “Given that you have set up camp, we will be correct in assuming that you and the scholar have reached an agreement, yes?”

  Helbram fluttered his lips and stared at the board while tapping his chin.

  Xanchil’s brow twitched again. “Yes?”

  “Hm? Oh, right, we decided to stay… ah, I bet you didn’t see this one comin’.” The warrior moved his left most knight to take the place of his moved pawn.

  His opponent’s eyes narrowed and he moved the pawn four spaces from his left two spaces forward. “And what agreement did you all come to?”

  “Dunno, he’s the one who did all the talkin’.” Helbram shifted his pawn to take Xanchil’s. “Ha! First point!”

  “Indeed, congratulations.” Xanchil moved his knight to the left and then forward. “Regardless, we would be willing to speak with him for more…agreeable terms.”

  “Oh, about what?”

  A rough, rumbling sound slipped through the zechanil’s gills, which Helbram assumed was his teeth grinding. “About the ruins, namely the scholar who has laid claim to part of them.”

  The warrior clicked his teeth and stared at the board for a long while.

  “Did you hear us?” Xanchil hissed.

  “Hold on, hold on.” Helbram moved his pawn at the far right a space forward, putting it in position to take the knight. “Give a man a moment to think, will ya?”

  He knew from where the knight was, Xanchil could either move three spaces forward and to the right to take his bishop, or only space and to the right to place him in front of his pawn. There was, of course, the chance that his opponent would move a completely different piece, but given what he knew of the zechanil, Helbram guessed he would take the latter.

  And he was right.

  The movement was sharp and quick, like a thread that had been snapped. “Where is your leader?”

  “I said he was busy, didn’t I?” Helbram knew the knight was a trap, bait that was too good to be true, but bit it anyways and shifted the third pawn from his right to the left diagonally to take it. “You must be hard of hearin’.”

  “Listen to me, you ingrate!” Venom laced Xanchil’s voice. “What we have at our disposal far outweighs whatever meager means your group has. We out number you three to one, and if you think a single Awoken on your side is impressive then know that your leader is outmatched by our mercenaries’ captain, not to mention all the other Awoken in our ranks. Perhaps you believe that your spellcasters will make the difference, but know that our kind is proficient in a spellcraft of our own.” Xanchil’s featureless eyes lit up and three black dots formed within their space. “One that we’re sure a group of such meager power will be quite unfamiliar with. The small one is the most impressive out of all of you, and what is her backup, a couple of two Circle casters and a little girl who only has one?”

  That final statement made Helbram’s lip twitch to the extent that he had to cover his mouth.

  “Then there are the two mutts, irregularities to be sure, but insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Finally, there’s you, possibly the most pathetic out of them all.” Xanchil grabbed his queen. “A powerless wretch who fancies himself an adventurer, as dull in soul as he is in mind, pushing pathetic self into business that he has no business being a part of.” He moved the Queen diagonally to his left until it was in front of Helbram’s rightmost pawn, and in clear path to his king. “Check.”

  Helbram moved the pawn two spaces from the right one space forward to block the queen.

  Xanchil took it, and that left the warrior’s king with no place to go. “Checkmate. Now, get out of our sight, mongrel. And tell your leader that if he wishes to send a proxy to speak with us then to not mock us with a buffoon.”

  The zechanil didn’t spare another glance at Helbram and leaned back in his chair. His gills were flaring, no doubt from the anger that still fumed within him. There was a temptation to say something else, but Helbram kept silent upon getting up and walking out of the tent. He kept his face plain, if a bit downtrodden as he walked out of the mercenary camp, taking note of their pitiable expressions as they regarded him in silence.

  Upon returning to his own, he could see Leaf’s ears twitching repeatedly and his heel digging into the ground. When Helbram was close, the hunter opened his mouth to say something, but kept quiet as the warrior held a hand out and motioned for the party, along with a newly awakened Elly and Aira, into his tent. When they were clear within it, Helbram ran his finger across his lip, indicating for Elly to silence the room.

  The Weaver flicked her wrist, the Circle around it brimming with green light, and Helbram felt a snap travel through the air prior to a sudden tightness that wrapped around them.

  “That should keep the noise in,” Elly said.

  “Thank you.” He turned to Leaf. “I am assuming that you heard everything, then?”

  “You’re godsdamned right I did!” the hunter shouted, “The man was two steps away from earning a third eye- why the hells are you smilin’?”

  Helbram stretched his jaw and rubbed his chin. “Is that how I looked? Apologies, it is not so often that you are able to gather so much key information with ease.”

  Elly sat down on the cot next to Aria. “What did you learn?”

  “A few things. One, is that he is wealthy enough to keep the mercenaries in his employ around for quite some time. Two, he assumes that Leaf is our leader.”

  The hunter frowned, “That’s a leap of logic.”

  “Hear hear!”

  “Jahora… you didn’ need to agree so quickly.”

  Helbram snorted. “Third, he may have the men at his disposal, but there appears to be something that prevents him from taking Kali’s key by force.”

  “A prior agreement may be the reason,” Elly suggested.

  “That could be it, but in such a far off land, the only thing that would be keeping that word would be the character of both involved parties. Given that Kali’s own mercenaries left, there would not be much to stop him from… ridding himself of a thorn in his side and then greasing a few wheels keeping it hidden. No… it is more than that and I believe Logan would be our best bet in figuring out what exactly is preventing Xanchil from acting.”

  “So he’s on our side?” Aria asked.

  “I would not go so far as to say that,” Helbram said, “But something is stopping them from doing Kali any harm, which is why he wanted to bribe us into doing something instead.”

  “Devious bastard…” Leaf muttered.

  “Indeed, but, there is a fourth thing I have noticed, one that is quite fortunate on our part.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Well, from those I have encountered and from many tales, the zechanil are quite the crafty and intelligent people. This one… appears to not live up to that.”

  “So, you have a plan then?”

  “That I do, for there is a foolproof method to dealing with someone so full of hubris.” Helbram smirked. “You simply prove them right.”

  Author's Note: This chapter made me realized I am absolutely horrendous at chess and I had to look up a good trap set up to transpose into a conversation. Bit of a humbling moment, really.

  Also, not gonna lie, it feels good to get back to "man-of-action" Helbram after showcasing his more vulnerable side last arc, and I think the pacing of this arc is gonna be reflective of this. I won't say its gonna be short, but I'll definitely be trying to hit beats at a faster pace (there will still be plenty of reflective moments, so don't you worry about that, unless you don't like them >.>)

  Let me know what you think! Till next time, have a wonderful time!

  If you have any suggestions of what you'd like to see or what resonates with you the most, please let me know in the comments and please drop a rating or review to let me know how I'm doing. I'm always aiming to improve and your feedback goes a long way to helping me with that.

  My is currently 13 chapters ahead of the public release, and subbing to it will also give you exclusive access to my LitRPG, Andromeda Ascension, until it builds a massive backlog to support a strong public launch. If you do not wish to sub to anything, but would like to support me in some way, consider picking up