Chapter 22: Deafening Silence

So too will you grow. So too will you see past the malaise of time. You're my Starfall flower. I will wander through your night until you call to me once again. I will sleep while you wake, when your eyes close, mine will watch over you. Seek the book, for it will tell what I cannot. Seek the map, for you will find an ally that cannot be cowed. The infection would not touch you again while I remain. You will grow as a sapling in the forest where giants have died. Your seed will take root, and you shall become strong, sweet Moonborne flower. 

Year of Wrath 1232, Season of life D.87, Ilgor

   They had gotten their way into the fortification without much difficulty, dead of night, silent. Cori, Knoll, and Hob had forgone any pretense of using the firearms they were issued by King Halgier and Gjorn. They still preferred their habitual weapons, Hob and Cori carrying spears and knives, while Knoll hefted his heavy axe, its bearded head as big as his was. They were given a simple mission; they knew the Dwarves were testing what they could do, get the spy they had identified and all his documents before they were burned. 

   Knoll padded his way down the hallway; fortification may have been a generous term now that he thought about it. An old, crumbling ruin, barely able to be called such in these times. Built when cannon fire hadn't yet been a dream. They had removed their boots, removed all the buckles and belts from their uniforms, nothing would jingle. They could hear the heartbeats of several sleeping men inside, Knoll's axe still dripping blood from the two lookouts on the parapets outside. They were told no survivors; they wanted the Caliphate to get radio silence from this one. 

   Cori and Hob slipped into the room with the sleeping men, hands pressed to their mouths and quick motion across their throats silencing any scream or warning. A quick thrust to their chest under their rib cages, all seven men dead in under a minute. There was only a single heartbeat left in the old fort, their target. They could hear him muttering under his breath behind several closed doors, no real obstacle to their ears. They had decided not to use anything except their voices for the next part, yes, while Illy teaching them her magic had been helpful for speeding them up, making them strike harder, and some more minor effects, it made noise. 

   Knoll crawled onto the roof, like an owl, he flew silently across the old timbers. Spotting his mark easily enough, a single lantern lit in the room. The roof had seen better days, full of holes, full of drop-down points. He could hear Hob and Cori circling the two doors to the room. Hob in back, Cori up front, quietly moving a table to its side, they were expecting him to be a quick shot. 

   Cori, in position, spoke. "Hey." His attention snapped to the sound of her voice, his gun already out of its holster before he was aware of where the voice came from. They heard his heart rate redouble, the sound of the metal in the gun clanking inaudibly as his hand shook. 

   Hob crept up behind him, waiting for Cori again, while Knoll positioned himself just over the man. "Don't be scared," Cori said again as she hid behind the thick table on the other side of the door. A few quick shots from his gun through the door, they all winced at the sound. The gunshot was a bit too much at times; their hearing ringing from the sound, ears far more sensitive than men's. But, this time, they didn't need to hear for them to complete the mission. He started walking toward where the sound came from. Knoll followed on the timbers above him while Hob grabbed the papers on the desk he was at. "Who are you? How did you get in here?" The human barked at the door. 

   The man had just put his hand on the door when Hob spoke, snatching his attention. "Sleep." His eyes glowed from the shadows where he hid like a demon. The man didn't even get his arm up to aim when Knoll fell on him, axe removing arm from body. Cori pushed the door open behind him, jumping on his back and plunging her knife into his throat before he could even scream. 

   They handed off the documents and body to the Commander stationed just outside their gates. They had found several more pages hidden throughout the room, as well as something that looked like a cypher key to them. When they were questioned about how many men they lost, the Dwarves were shocked to hear that the trio of goblins had dismissed their shock troops to target the spy on their own, not a single scratch on their bodies. Though the Commander tried to argue that their choice was reckless, he was silenced when he was reminded that the trio was, in fact, the Generals of the Goblin division for his Majestet's forces. 

   When they began walking back to the caves to report to Ilgor, Hob commented. "Turns out that Galus's brass aren't the only ones who need some discipline." 

   "Can you blame his incredulity?" Cori responded, bumping her hand into his. "They aren't used to us being able to handle almost any of the missions they have given us." 

   Knoll's laugh sounded more like gravel falling, "So long as they don't put us on the frontlines, every time they did that during the war games, we suffered more than the other units. Too much blood, we should be more support than vanguards." 

   "Okay, barring that, we function better than their own units. Even when they stick us in their own units, our troops dominate their own. They all look to our raider, sorry, soldiers." Cori corrected herself as Hob's fingers intertwined with hers. "As de facto commanders, it isn't our fault that we work better in tight units." 

   "As a point of fact, Cori, it is our faults. That is the way we're taught, and it is the way Illy encourages us to continue to operate." Hob added while Knoll only nodded his agreement. 

   Knoll gave Hob a smirk, flicking his eyes down at their still clasped hands, but said nothing as they entered the main door to the caves. The facade having been finished, they walked into the now-lit caverns filled with small apartments for each of the families. Pleasant common areas full of the Family living their lives together, playing games, cooking, just chatting the world away. More and more of the Family noticed Cori and Hob as well, each giving them a silent approval that they did not need. 

   "Shall we head to Illy's room?" Cori asked. 

   "I can hear the Witch up there already, they are talking about the infection or whatever happened to her. Oh, and Illy noticed us. The room is now Silenced." Hob commented. "Well, duty calls; we need to make our report, even if she isn't entirely up to it right now." 

   The trio walked toward the stairs, making their way up to the top floor where Illy stayed. The most protected part of the cave, as well as the most difficult to sneak past, with all the raiders stationed at every corner. Each saluting their Raid Leaders as they passed, a gesture they each returned. Their own command outstripped any of the Human command structures they had been privy to. Galus was still suffering problems with insubordination, a problem the Dwarves were working on. 

   "They are still the same people, I am still the same, your Grace. Just because you can see it now changes nothing but your awareness. No, I'm not going to touch you, I won't even come near you if it makes you uncomfortable." They heard Azorez tell Illy from behind her closed door. 

   The guards on either side of the door were trying their best to look like they weren't listening closely, but when they saw their Raid Leaders approach, they saluted and tried to make themselves look like they weren't even there. "You are dismissed," Knoll said, waving a hand for them to go. "We will be taking up positions in your stead."

   Cori let go of Hob's hand and opened the door. They didn't need to announce themselves; they already knew Illy had heard them when she silenced the room. When they entered, the only one surprised was Azorez, who jumped as the door opened. Hob took one look at the anxiety on Illy's face and walked over to her, pulling a cigar out of his bag. 

   The flinch as he held it out to her didn't escape his notice. "Corojo, your favorite." He said as he pulled his own out, cutting the end caps off both before handing her one of the lighters the Dwarves had given him. For the life of him, he didn't know how he lived without one before; the brass was nice in his hands. With a flick of his thumb, the flame came to life on the wick while he lit his first. Illy gingerly took the smoke from his fingers, purposefully making her touch him to take it. 

   Handing her the lighter, Cori sat on the desk, while Knoll leaned against the bookshelf on her right. "So, let's skip the report, Ilgor." Hob began, "What is bothering you? We know you are seeing things,"

With a glare from Cori, he switched tunes. "Sorry, wrong way to phrase it." He said with a puff of smoke while Illy finished lighting hers. "What are you seeing? You told us it was some infection, but you've been out of sorts ever since it happened. Please trust in your friends here; we don't want to see you suffer." 

   His gentle tone earned him approving looks from everyone, save for Illy, who only looked fearful. She refused to look any of them in the eyes; this was not their confident and powerful Mother that they had grown to know; this was a genuine fear. They had all learned by now that touching her was not a good idea, so Cori chose her tone carefully. "Maybe we can help?" 

   Illy took another drag from the cigar, a gesture more to keep it lit rather than to enjoy it. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse, broken-sounding. She told them of how the ghost had somehow become a part of her now, granting her some kind of immunity from this infection. Telling them of how her voice was far too strong now, how she was having a hard time keeping herself from using power at all times. 

   Calling it a siren's call would be to call a hurricane a gust of wind. Illy told them just how intoxicating the level of power she could call on was now, scared of it. Telling them of how everything had this inky shadow flowing through it, pumping through their veins, visible in their eyes the most. It was an unsettling description, all things considered. Ilgor had been puffing on that cigar for only half an hour, yet she had nubbed the thing down. 

   Hob's own was only halfway done when his voice broke her out of her own machinations. "Can you cure us of it?"

   She blinked at him, seemingly not quite understanding what he was asking. "What?" 

   "You said your magic and voice are so much stronger now, you said that this Ghost, Vilorlith, you called her, was now a part of you in a way. Does that mean you can cure this infection now that you have an immunity?" Hob said between puffs of smoke, his question earned him a rare impressed look from Knoll. Though everyone turned to look at Illy expectantly.

   "I don't, I mean, I am unsure if I can?" She asked herself as much as she told them. "Give me your hand." 

   Hob smiled, Knoll suddenly realizing why he had asked. Cori and Azorez were slightly slower on the uptake, while Ilgor clasped Hob's hand without hesitation. She began humming, a warm air filling the room as her cigar had been forgotten about in the ashtray. It was a far stronger feeling than he had ever felt her commit to before, changing pitches and octaves as she searched for a note. 

   Hob felt a jolt in his hand, furrowing his brow, and inky blackness became visible to him. Like grease flowing away from a drop of soap, he watched as the blackness receded from his hand and up his arm. Illy had her eyes fixed on his, glee and shock in equal measures. "Your eyes are clear, it's moving away from your hand!" 

The second she let go of his hand, her smile vanished, "It came back, almost immediately..." The dejection in her voice was almost heartbreaking.

   Azorez set her hand on Ilgor's; she didn't even flinch this time. "But you pushed the darkness back, that means it is possible, no?" A fire lit in Illy's eyes at her words. 

   "I suppose you're right."

   Weeks later, Ilgor sat listening to Uncle Ghet and his lectures again. Ever since that day, she had spent some time every day away from the combat training, from the political lessons, away from her advisors and confidants, to be with her healers. They spent hours trying to push the darkness out of unliving materials, each time they had limited success. But, each time their voices could force out the darkness, but not keep it out. "Are you even paying attention?" Ghet's voice was like a crack across the knuckles. 

   With a heavy sigh, it was getting easier each day to ignore the infection. But, she still found it difficult to focus. "Yes, Ghet. I am. You were just going over the various reports of how the raiders are faring under the new Dwarven Command. The Raiders are excelling at mixed unit tactics, command structure, and finding vulnerabilities in our own forces. Chief among them, their hearing is both a blessing and a curse."

   "So you were listening at least," Ghet said with a happy harumph. "Do you know what vexing means?" He asked as they parsed through the notes, the Human and Dwarven commands came on. 

   "Troubled, infuriating," Ilgor responded dryly. "I find it vexing that they all want written commands rather than verbal ones. Is my word not enough of a command to them?"

   Ghet chuckled, a hint of his old self becoming evident; he had become quite the cunning old man as her advisor. She smiled at the thought. The role fit him nearly perfectly. His old sins, or as he put it, were finally being forgotten as he aided in guiding the clan toward a brighter future. "Still, if an order is given, we should send all the commanders and Generals a message. They enjoy their notes and writing, even our own officers should get them." 

   "It makes such a weak system, though, Uncle Ghet. When we can whisper from hundreds of feet away and hear each other perfectly, leaving a literal paper trail makes hiding secrets and orders so much more difficult." Illy complained, but she still enjoyed the practice of writing in another language besides her own. It scratched at something she didn't know she enjoyed. 

   "Written orders with any real import are burned or otherwise destroyed, Mother." He grinned as she shot him a look at the title. "Besides, that tactic may work just fine for us, but the others are not us. Maybe if we needed to issue commands to our own forces, then that wouldn't be an issue. No need to fix what isn't broken, but for the benefit of the others in the chain of command?" 

   "I suppose you have a point." She pouted, but the old man couldn't help but smile at the girl. He doubted he would ever see her besides the little girl that he and many others helped raise. His eyes flicked to the small painting of Kari on the wall just behind her; a small candle had been burned low in a pool of wax below it. 

   "I'm tired of writing all this. Let's change topics." She said brightly, eager for anything except this drudgery. It wasn't the time for her to spar with the others, and healers were busy with other matters at the moment. The courts didn't require her yet. Both Kings were overseeing the construction of Vhedinstal while Ilgor was being trained more. 

   Stopping his own scratching at the papers in front of him, "What would you like to chat about?" 

   "What designation did the Raiders receive again? I remember that they would no longer be front-line combatants, nor would they be placed near the artillery teams." She asked curiously. Ghet supposed he couldn't blame her for forgetting it; there had been quite a bit of new information to absorb. 

   "Well, for your context, Mother. The artillery throws off their vision too much, making them damn near useless. We never had to deal with real engines of war up until now. While we may be faster and more mobile than the rest of the military, we weigh next to nothing compared to regular infantry. To top that off, Majestet Gjorn is anticipating Silencing fields like the sort that were used against him. We have been given an infiltration and heavy bombardment role." He paused for a breath. 

"Beyond that, we are also not expected to see combat outside of infiltration missions. We are going to guard Galus's borders, not Huron's."

   "So, where does that put us in the command?" Illy asked, her attention on him fully. 

   "Well, you specifically rank just under both Kings, a step above the regular Generals of the main force. The rest of the Generals in your command hold the same weight as the other Generals. Beyond that, the rest of the force is just in line with the War Boar Vanguard." He responded, rattling off the information easily enough. 

   Illy sat back in her chair, thinking. "Both Kings, then me. The Generals, then commanders, the War Boar Vanguard, Artillery units, gunners, then main assault infantry." Shaking her head at the Dwarves' much more pragmatic system than Galus's constant chain of officers. "They always have in command the chain of events rather than decisions."

   A small knock at the door caught their attention; they didn't even hear anyone walk up to it this time. "Come in," Illy answered. 

   Hob walked in, in a uniform that she hadn't seen yet. "No, I have, it's like the Dwarves' uniform, just with less plate armor." She thought to herself as she took him in. A black gunmetal helmet with brass fittings, a faceguard accented with a spike jutting above the brow line. Dual pistols belted to his chest, a rifle as tall as he was belted to his back. 

   She had to admit, the trench coat in earth tones looked well on him, spotting the plating lining the inside of it like the brigandine that Caleb had explained so long ago. More solid metal plates over his vital organs, angled for deflection rather than impact resistance. The brass gauntlets with heavy steel backings looked well-suited for heavy use rather than ornamentation.

   "Well, would you look at you. A man like that might be able to sweep me off my feet." Illy mused, setting her chin in her palm, giving him a suggestive look. "Why the new uniform? That isn't standard issue, is it?" 

   "If all it takes is a new outfit to win your affection, I don't want it." Hob grinned back at her. "Since Cori, Knoll, and I have been doing so well with bringing the raiders up to the standards of the Dwarves, I am now an officer in the Dwarven regiments as well." 

   Illy cocked her head at the news. Ghet seemingly already understood to a degree, but only watched as she looked confused. "You three were already Generals, why would a lesser position be given?" She waved a hand at him, "Brass." 

   Ghet stifled a slight chuckle, "Mother, you have been preoccupied with other matters, both personal and political. The Goblin regiments are seen as a separate military operation outside of the main forces. Because of your generous offer to guard Galus's borders to make Lucas look a fool. The General rank is used mainly only inside the village and whenever Galus has eyes on us. Within the Dwarven Hierarchy, they are not much more than commanders with a few squads under each of them. Your position is what gives them the power to act as they do with the Dwarves, not anything else." 

   They both saw her furrow her brow with a quiet fury. Already, they saw her getting up from her chair and marching herself to the Kings and demanding that her Generals be given the same power within their Military, even before she said anything. Hob raised a placating hand to forestall her, "This is better, Illy. Let both the Dwarves and Humans think less of us. It only adds to our ability to outmaneuver them if we ever need to." 

   The fire in her eyes hadn't completely died, but then again, it was better than the alternative. "This is the maneuvering you told me about, Ghet? I'm not happy about this. Why wasn't I told this until now?" 

   "It didn't seem necessary, you have been busy with the courts as well as your attempted communions with the past priestesses. Not to mention the infection." Ghet answered quickly.

   With a huff, she leaned heavily back into her chair again. Bracing herself as that shit eating grin spread across Hob's face. "Well, while you have been off playing princess with the Kings, we've been spreading our side of the story." 

   It was a tactic they had been planning for some time, one they had all days worth of discussion for under their belts. Ilgor had wanted to change how the world viewed her people, still wanted to. In her attempts, she found that Gjorn had beaten her to the punch for striking the match against Lucas. A people unused to their military operating so close to home, unused to a show of force. Illy had capitalized on the moment. 

   So long as their version of events circulated first, that would be the impression the people remembered. Their people, despite their histories, despite the notoriety they had themselves earned, had been painted in that pitying light. Ilgor and her soldiers had been quick to discover that the Dwarves were training the Galacian Officers in discipline. Had even been given the chance to spread that information when they were given leave to speak to the public. 

   The longer the goblins were given the chance to speak with Galus's citizens, the more they could maneuver themselves into the eyes of humanity as something to be recognized as relatable. Humanize themselves. As she made it known with each decree, as she had made proclamations denouncing their former ways of life, Illy made no effort to hide that under her leadership, the goblins would rise to be humanity's equal. 

   All these plans had come forth in her mind as Hob continued to grin, as if he were expecting some kind of accolade. She only smiled back at him and nodded at the good news, gesturing for him to continue. "Seems that most of the Dockside is more than amenable to us being around. We don't see the fear in their eyes nearly as much. More often, we hear of how they don't approve of King Berthelot's actions. We will continue to spread this feeling, who knows, maybe someday soon we can have humans coming to us to live here if they don't see us as monsters any longer." 

   "You just want to have some busty bimbo press her chest to your face." Ghet chuckled, "Besides, I have more plans we should follow up on as well." 

   "Well, as much as I love Cori's in my face, have you seen how big the women of the city get?" Hob started before being a fast smack on the back of the head by the older goblin. 

   Illy smirked, thinking about how their roles seemed to blur more and more these days. While she listened to Hob be chastised for thinking with his dick by Ghet, she thought about the situation she was building. Ghet was her political advisor; he held as much power as she did when it came to decision-making. Hob was overseeing her military branch, while Cori was overseeing how the Family inside the village was doing, along with their progression. Knoll, well, he was something else, just as much military as Hob was, but he seemed to be the stick to keep the entire operation from tumbling around them. 

   Illy, she felt more and more unneeded as time marched on. Her orders followed; their loyalty certain, they would follow her to the end, no matter which way the cards fell. In the end, while she was all the same things as they were, she was the voice of the people. The beacon they held into the dark unknown of the future, she was the banner her people followed. Her and her alone.

   Feeling more like a figurehead, despite what Hob, Ghet, and everyone else said. Still, this was what she wanted, right? Remove the power from the Mother and Father so that her people could grow, wasn't it? Allow her people to move forward into a golden age, "Illy?" Ghet's voice got her attention. 

   "Hmm?" A wonderful response. 

   "You've been staring blankly for a bit there; you haven't acknowledged anything we said," Hob added helpfully. 

   Blinking, she really hadn't heard a damn thing they said. Suddenly getting up from her chair, she leaned back, cracking her spine. "Let's take this discussion to the practice field." She said as she reached for the saber leaning against the desk. 

   "Now?" Hob asked, "There is a delegation from Galus meeting with the Dwarves right now." 

   "Perfect." She answered. 

   Less than an hour later, suppressing a shiver from seeing so much infection around her. The Dwarven emissaries watching the fights with the Galacian political elites, Illy only itched for her turn in the ring. Her keen ears picked up the conversation from them despite the distance and ring of steel. The Dwarves were admonishing the Galacian government again. The humans, in turn, were trying to get the Dwarves to stop spreading their propaganda inside the city. While also trying to get the Dwarves to force Illy to accept the Sages into the Vhedinstal.

   The fight between Cori and Hob ended, both haggard and bruised. A roar went up from the onlookers in the crowd, humans, Dwarves, and Goblins alike. It wasn't often that Illy joined in the training ring, but she needed to burn off some energy. She was sick of sitting and being lectured at, a to-do list that only kept growing. Ever since the Goblins had been stationed on the city walls, she had become more relaxed with her no-humans policy in the outer ring of the territory. She enjoyed seeing the Family warm up to them. 

   She was even more pleased that the humans who came around into the Dwarven camps just outside the village were honoring all her laws, making friends with as many of the Goblins as they could. Sure, they were the more tolerant of the ones than those inside the city proper, but progress had to start somewhere. 

   She stepped into the ring, her sword feeling right with its weight in both her hands. Though it was made as a human weapon, meant to be a single-handed blade, it was more than a war-sword to her. A two-handed, curved blade that Yorm had given her. She had thought to get rid of it dozens of times, but the memory of what he was had convinced her to keep it. Yorm, for everything he was worth, she still considered him her father. For that, she kept the one thing she had earned in his name, the sword. 

   Her opponent was a beefy Dwarf that she had met on a few occasions. Skjol, one of the Generals in Gjorn's army, he had forgone a shirt or even plate armor when he stepped into the ring. His muscles were as if chiseled from stone, a statuesque figure he struck. She found his physique distracting, as her cheeks flushed faintly, but not distracting enough. His axe was a functional thing, not like the massive two-bladed behemoths in stories. Granted, it was bigger than she had anticipated, but it was single-bladed with a long beard. He looked her up and down, appraising his opponent. 

   "Your Grace, it is an honor to spar with you this day." He bowed to her in a show of respect that she knew was rare in the Dwarven culture. With his words, the crowd went quiet, and even the Galacian politicians went silent as they watched. "Might we make this a bit more interesting, your Grace?" 

   Cocking her head, she smiled. "What did you have in mind?" She wore no armor, favoring her own dress. Though the image was ruined just a bit by the pants she wore under it, barefoot, she stood in a relaxed stance. Her beads clinking softly as she adjusted, the feathers blowing just past her from the strings in her hair. 

   "Magic is allowed. I don't want you to hold back. In turn, this is a three-point challenge. Three hits to the victor. If I win, you buy me a drink and dinner. If you win, I'll buy you a drink and dinner." Skjol said with a charming grin. 

   "A date it is," She laughed, "If I win, you restock my wine racks." 

   "Deal," He said with that same grin.

   The humming from her throat started without anyone even noticing, the air moving along her limbs in that same trick she used with the Sorcerer. Her blade was out of its sheath as she lunged toward Skjol, tip pointed at his shoulder. With a burst of light around him, he parried her strike as her eyes went wide, that beard of the axe hooking right down to her hands.

   Letting herself move with the redirected motion, she rolled in time to dodge the butt of his axe slamming into the ground. Skidding to her feet, he was wreathed in stone, like a suit of armor. He reached a hand out faster than she would have thought possible, catching her main hand by the wrist as he brought the axe down again. 

   Leaning back, pushing her song into her muscles until they tore, she pulled him off his feet, sending him flying past her. Not allowing herself to scream at the pain, already healing the damage to her body. With a quick thrust to his back as he was still falling, she scored a point. Her victory at her trick was short-lived as a knife flew out from between his fingers while he tumbled and planted itself in her shoulder. 

   She did scream then, a short guttural thing. Pulling it free, the blood already congealing as she healed it without conscious thought. She hadn't really thought this Dwarf would be this fast, or had he just studied up on her before? Switching tactics, she launched a wave of cutting wind at him with a swing of her sword. An ear-splitting noise as it cut through the air, his axe glowed with a series of runes as he met the wave with his own weapon. It dispelled her magic as he rose to his feet. 

   Without giving him time to think, she was on him again. Pressing her advantage, condensing the air around her saber, she increased her cutting power. The runes glowed each time her blade touched his, diminishing her attacks, but she was relentless. Slash, cut, parry, slash, thrust, jab, dodge, breathless, she pressed her assault. 

   He looked at where his knife had planted itself into her shoulder, eyes growing wide at seeing the flesh already mended. Still, step by step, he retreated away from her magically amplified movements. With a gesture, he poured his own power into his axe, a black void emanating around it. With a deft stroke her tried to hook her blade again, just slightly too slow to catch her this time. 

   With a twirl of her wrists, she scored another point to his shoulder, cutting right through the stone armor. With a thought, she changed the pitch of her song, pushing that warmth into her blade just before she pulled back. His injury already beginning to heal, she didn't anticipate the haft of the axe to come up and clock her in the solar plexus, though. 

   "Two for two," She thought as she skidded back. "He's a damn good fighter to keep up with me, then again, he probably has decades of practice with people who used magic, I've had only my Mother, a probably not human Sorcerer, and Gjorn." She swiped Skjol's axe out of the way, attempting to bring her pommel into the side of his head in the same movement. 

   He dodged back on nimble feet, with a deep breath, she sang using all three of her voices. One for speed, one for strength, and one for silence. The next strike between their blades extinguished the runes on his axe, and the parry that followed disarmed him. "Three points, Your grace, you are at two." He commented as his armor fell away at the sound of her voice. 

   Somewhere in this fight, she had missed where he had gotten a pair of metal gauntlets.”Did he make those under his stone armor?” She wondered as he backhanded her sword away as she struck again, leaning back to dodge his punch. She smiled as he overextended, fully expecting his punch to land. His eyes went wide at her speed, far faster than what he thought was her full speed. 

   With a flash, her sword arced across his chest. Making just a hairline cut, enough to let him know. He lost his balance as they tumbled together in a heap, and she somehow managed to be on top of him. Pushing herself to her up, the crowd roared with cheers at the fight. Skjol was just barely a few inches from her face as her ears covered their view of their faces. "Well, you could buy me a drink first before getting on top of me, Your Grace." He said with that grin again. 

   She grinned right back at him, "Should've let you buy me dinner first before feeling you get hard under me." 

   He went red at the comment, but tried to keep his face confident. In all fairness, he was. "Been a while?" She asked casually as they helped each other to their feet. "You'd better hope no one else noticed your incongruous affection, General." 

   With a cough, they walked toward the edge of the ring. "What did you do to my axe?" He asked as one of her own healers began looking them both over. 

   "I silenced the runes." She said as Kyti opened her dress to look at her shoulder wound, frowning when she saw none. Illy didn't even flinch at having her top removed in such an abrupt manner, though Skjol quickly looked away from her. Kyti handed her a new shirt to wear, one that wasn't stained in blood. She then went to Skjol, with a soft hum and a prayer, the air around them grew hot as she closed the cut on Skjol's chest. 

   "I didn't even know you could silence the magic on items like that." He said as he eyed Kyti up and down, eyes lingering on the short hem of her dress.

   "I didn't either, I just thought it might work." She smiled at him, letting him know full well she saw what he was looking at. With a nudge to his ribs, she gestured to Kyti. "She's single, by the way." 

   The way Kyti's ears twitched, Illy knew she had heard. Bending over languidly to fetch some fresh bandages from her medical bag set next to the fence around the training area. Skjol smiled wider and took in the view. "Remember, I won the match." Illy said with a smirk, "But, I think I'll give you a night or two for my reward." 

   He looked up at her, letting her implication sink in as Kyti came back and began wrapping his chest for the cut on him. Her own coy little grin answered his unspoken question. Even as she heard Kyti strike up a bit more of a conversation with him, she stepped back into the ring to the growing crowd as more folks heard that Governor Ilgor had wished to train. 

   She stopped dead in her tracks when someone she recognized stood in the center of the ring. He was no Dwarf, no human, not even one of the Family. His long, messy hair draped over his silver mask, and that smile with his disgustingly sharp teeth poking through his lips. "I hope you don't mind me cutting in line; to them all I appear as one of them, Priestess." The Sorcerer's mirth dripped from his lips like venom. 

He looked her up and down, not appraisingly, but with judgment. "I see you have gained something that shouldn't have been given so freely. I take it she hasn't spoken to you since you merged with her, have you?" He sneered. 

   "How did you know about that?" Ilgor asked, and the crowd roared around them, clearly watching a fight that wasn't happening, but being forced to watch some kind of illusion. It felt as if the world was encroaching in on her, filling her ears with a kind of static. 

   "I know many things, as I have always told you. But," He touched a finger to his lips in thought. "I will tell you what I told Vilorlith, oh yes, I know about her. Much more than you could possibly imagine." He paused, slowly walking toward her.

She felt her heart pound in her chest, the beat of a drum deafening in her ears. "Someday you will know as much as I do, and with any luck, even more. But, back to the topic at hand. I am a friend, and I have set in motion a series of events that you will be involved in. I want to see that ghost return to her glory. I want to see you glow brighter than she ever was." 

He crouched down to meet her eyes; his eyes, she noticed through his mask, were different colors. She never got to see them so close in any of his lessons before, not even when he took his mask off that night. One was red, one was bright green, and neither of them was the same shape. The red, a slit like a snake, the green, like a wave. She had only ever seen that in the eyes of a cuttlefish before. "Shall I teach another lesson? One that would prove extremely useful to you in the coming years?" 

   Swallowing hard, she thought quickly. His lessons were always brutal, but they did make her stronger, make her wiser, and more fit to lead. Knowing this would likely be painful, she nodded. "Very well, I'm assuming that you are in some kind of glamor? You are what, showing everyone watching a fight they won't soon forget?" 

   "Currently, they are watching you deftly hold your ground against a superior swordsman. A former Wayfarer of some renown, a Caster turned duelist. While they don't know why he is here, they are happy to see a fight where you are actually struggling." His grin held a sense of foreboding that she didn't relish.

With a hand outstretched, a small portal opened, and Kari's staff was in his hands. He handed it to her, speaking quickly, "You will need to start using this in every fight. Think of it like a tuning fork, your Mother certainly had some foresight to give it to you." 

   With that, the crowd went silent again as he changed into a swordsman with a face like one she thought she knew. A hawk-like nose, beady eyes, and an olive complexion. He looked like a much younger Caleb, a memory filling her head. The boy in the stained glass window in his home, Caleb's son. 

   He lunged at her with a speed she could barely account for, parrying his first strike with her own sheathed blade, trying to keep Kari's staff out of danger. She could barely keep up with him, so she began humming her magic to increase her speed. With a snap of his fingers, a colossal boom echoed out right in front of her. A sharp burst of pain in her ears as they began to ring like someone had fired a gun right next to her head. 

   She reeled back as her magic ceased from the distraction. She parried another strike, but still back peddled away from him as he pushed her toward the corner of the training grounds. Her own blade still sheathed, with a deft motion, he helpfully cut the sheathe away from her own blade in one precise slash. With her ears still ringing, she tried to use her own heartbeat for the song, healing her injured ears. 

   A slash back at him, followed by a lunge of her own, had him stepping back enough to give her room to breathe. Her hearing was only coming back slightly as she was unfamiliar with how the inner workings of them had been damaged. “A tuning fork? He said that, didn't he?” The blade was too heavy for her to use single-handed for long, too cumbersome as she flicked the blade into the dirt to send it up into his eyes. 

   He backstepped just far enough to evade the blinding debris, funneling her magic into the staff. She felt it vibrate the air around her. Feeling the wind push her limbs in that familiar way, she launched herself at the Sorcerer. Wide defensive swings, keeping an area of denial around her while she pressed her advantage. Keeping him blocking while trying to find an opening, she wasn't used to fighting with Mother's staff. 

   He took his opportunity when she fumbled a swing and struck her shoulder with the point of his blade. Grunting, she tried to heal it again, but was met with another explosive noise right in front of her face. Knocking her magic aside like smoke on the breeze, her vision went double at the concussion force of it. She felt her legs be swept out from under her, eyes going wide as the world swam. 

   Her ears were ringing, making the world seem more like a massive kaleidoscope of colors and images rather than anything coherent. Trying to push her song outward in a wide arc, another boom knocked it away again. Her ears just couldn't take it; they stopped ringing as silence filled her world. In the back of her mind, she heard his voice. "Just like the days of old, sound is both your greatest tool and your greatest weakness. Be aware of that, Priestess." 

   She felt herself being lifted off the ground, managing to hold onto Kari's staff. For as much power as had been infused into the white wood, it didn't seem to help her in any meaningful way. Her vision still swam, rendered insensate by the fight. It wasn't until she was sitting down on something and a pleasant warmth was pressed against the sides of her head that her ears started ringing again. She felt her eardrums knit back together as she assumed one of her healers was on her the second she was seated. 

   Her vision slowly faded from a cacophony of lights, colors, and shapes into something more like a blurry vision as the ringing in her ears slowly died down. Being replaced by many hushed voices around her, indistinct from one another. Lifting her own hands, she pressed them over the hands on either side of her head, heartbeat the drumbeat to follow in this song. Pressing her own magic into them, her hearing quickly focused, picking out the voices now. Cori, Hob, Ghet... Gjorn. Kyti whispered for them all to be quiet while she tried to fix the inner bones in her ears. 

   Wrapping her fingers through Kyti's, she pulled the healer's hands away from her head. Blinking rapidly, her vision still a little fuzzy, she took in the group around her. The Sorcerer was long gone as she watched Caleb pick his way through the crowd on the opposite side of the training grounds. A sad smile crossed her lips at seeing him, but she looked at the others around her. "Well, that was a learning experience." She said with a grin that was met with only grave faces. 

   Kyti wrapped her in a tight hug; it was only now that Illy was aware of the blood flowing from her eyes and ears. Now dried streaks against her skin, clinging to her hair. Gjorn stepped forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. "It would seem I was lax in your tutelage. I didn't think your species' hearing would be so." He paused, trying to find a diplomatic phrase. "Vulnerable. This changes a few things."

   Hob had a wet rag in his hands as he gently pulled Kyti off Illy, wiping the blood away from her face. Fingers swiping the dried blood out of her hair. "Come on, we need to finish our discussion, and you need a bath." Cori helped her to her feet.

   "Well, the people still mistrust us to a degree, but they are seeming far more sympathetic to us the longer the Dwarves lambast the King and his Chancellor's actions," Ghet said from the other room. 

   Illy washed the rest of the blood and dirt from her hair in her washroom. She apparently had taken quite a tumble from those concussive blasts. She wondered how she could counter that as she listened to the group talk in the other room. Though she did comment over the din of the running water. "We did much to earn that distrust. We did earn the reputation we've had for all this time." 

   She still enjoyed the scent of the soaps the Dwarves had been giving them. A rich citrus and rose filling her nose, the longer she worked it into her hair. "The Dwarves' misinformation over the skirmish is rampant inside the city. Apparently, some Gorgon is helping spread that information even further. It has been a damn hard job to rectify that on the King's part." 

   Shutting the water off, she stepped out, reaching for a towel. Letting the steam exit the washroom as she opened the door, wearing nothing but that towel, hair dripping water on the floor. Hob and Ghet had paused their conversation as she flicked her wrist for them to turn around. Making her way to the screened-off section of her room, she noted Cori watching her a bit too intently. She'd have to correct that later, too, apparently. 

   Hob's voice again, "Galus had sent a much larger force, which is what is being said. Only to be trounced by a much smaller force and in defense rather than in an assault. It seems odd that it is being presented this way to garner as much sympathy from humanity as possible. We aren't even hearing about the raiding days much anymore." 

   "It would seem that Halgier and Gjorn are doing their damnedest to justify their acquisition of our village as they can." Illy commented as she spent the painstaking amount of time wringing her hair out. Hearing someone step up to her screen, too light to be Hob, too heavy to be Ghet. "Cori, I don't need help. I'm fine, I swear. Besides, I'm not exactly dressed at all." 

   "I don't think she would mind," Ghet laughed as something was thrown at him, Hob's own chuckle being added to the noise. She missed this; these little antics were starting to seem like rare treats. 

   "Besides, you are right. It does seem strange that while they are trying to justify annexing another country's land, this is all seeming to our benefit the most." Illy commented as she pulled a shirt over her head. Flushing out her hair, the mass dragging on the floor in a figurative pool. 

   A small knock at her door caught their attention, as it opened without a response. Halgier walked in, holding a bouquet of flowers, not a hint of shame on his face as he took in the small group in the room. Eyes darting to where Illy was backlit, changing behind the screen. "I heard there was an incident on the training grounds today."