“Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding.”

- Albert Einstein

(Tino Maldavi POV)

I finally stop walking for the day and set up camp close to a small wood. One of the few in those unending plains that extend over the human territory. I start to feel the need for the shadows provided by the thick forest trees of my homeland. For the life of me, I cannot wonder how the diplomatic envoys do to stay away for so long without going mad.

The fire I have set up starts up easily enough, allowing me to start working on my tent, and my dinner.

As I am lying here, sitting next to the grilling meat that I hunted a few days prior, I think back on the journey I embarked on until now.

At the beginning I was honored beyond belief to be personally chosen by the Empress. My lowly self was far beneath such attention from the spheres of power. But I started to realize how hard it would be to track this clockwork once I arrived at the crater that marked its arrival upon our world.

The first thing I had done was emptying my stomach. Long range teleportation magic has a habit of upsetting the body, and I could have really done without learning this peculiar specificity of the spell, even if it helped shortening my initial travel time by a considerable margin.

The destruction around me was still fresh, less than a week old. I remembered my initial reaction upon seeing it for the first time. Once I saw it from close range I had quickly realized its unnatural nature. The feeling I had then was something more akin to curiosity. One that is likely to be felt when you normally see a well-crafted object, and feel the need to examine it from every angle to see how it works.

Fortunately for me, the clockwork had had more pressing concerns than covering its tracks. The deeps gouges in the earth where its feet had impacted the ground were still visible, and allowed easy tracking.

I followed them to a border town close to the Twin peaks. There was nothing of note there at first glance, which prompted me to snoop around for any clues as to why it would make contact so quickly with civilization. A morning at the travel agency and an evening at the tavern answered that question pretty fast. There, I met a few merchants and caravan guards, that with a few beers, were more than happy to tell me the tale of a bard, covered from head to toes, traveling to the desert border through Tirannis. And apparently with a voice out of this world. The irony of the situation was not lost on me : little did they know it probably is out of this world. It could have been a coincidence, but I have long learned that those do not happen on accident.

Why did it choose to move alongside humans though?

I was on the road cutting through the plains that would lead me to Tirannis the next day, after a quick resupply. While I would have taken a bit less time in a caravan, the funds that were given to me were not infinite, and I would actually feel safer travelling alone, instead of with the juicy bait that caravans can be to human bandits. While the elven court is spared from the horrors of human nature deep in the Forest, I had many occasions to see the worst that can be displayed in my years of service at the Edge.

Once in Tirannis however, it was much harder to track the clockwork. But going from previous information, I knew that it went for the south border. And the only real stop on the way was Takar. With any luck I would find more information about its whereabouts there.

Which leads me to where I am now, at the edge of where the savanna starts to take over the normally green plains. With my stomach full and my bedroll close to the campfire, I stare at the night sky, alone with my thoughts.

(XSS-MK1 POV)

Even after what could be considered too small of a rest, I woke up Hesca. The night was uneventful at least, allowing her a calm night after all the fighting.

While she is emerging from her blood-loss induced coma, I worry about what the desert will throw at us. Before I can continue my line of though further Via comes close to me and grabs my attention.

"You will be travelling in the first one, along with your master, my help and me."

I nod.

"Could you help me?" I say, while pointing at Hesca. "I don't think she is able to climb up there on her own."

Via agrees, and calls GR3-DF127, "Groundy", to help.

With their assistance, we manage to climb into the pod on top of the worm. Strangely enough the animal has small spikes on top of its back that I missed yesterday. It allows the travelling cradles to be anchored. Cradles which are strangely cozy and comfortable. I set Hesca down. She has a slight fever, and her glazed eyes tell me she isn't really "here" right now. She will need more rest before being back to normal.

Back to the pods ; from what I can tell they are made of 3 different components. The first one is a metal skeleton, creating a basis for multiple leather straps, the second component, to anchor it on the back spikes. It also allows the third and last component to be attached, which are the floor, walls and roof, all made from multiple layers of cloth, and firmly attached to the structure. The end product is something that protect surprisingly well from the wind and the growing heat we can already feel creeping in the early morning. I don't know if it will stay that way after a few hours of travel but one can only hope.

The bottom of the pod is littered with plushy but worn cushions, on which we all sit before having Via signal the depart. She brings a metal contraption to her lips, handed to her by GR3-DF127, and then blows in it, producing a sound akin to a boat horn.

Whatever that sound was however, it got the worms moving. Which is very strange considering that only a very small sway can be felt. The Nilas are cruising on top of the sand with a grace you wouldn't expect of them. Which makes it even more strange considering the speed we are traveling at is in the 50 km/h, at least, from what I can tell. I am looking at the desert by the front opening of the pod, that Via uses to see outside and to steers the worms. She uses the instrument to produce many sounds that apparently all have different meanings. After listening for a while, and observing the worms' reactions, I finally have a working table with all the commands on one side and their musical translation on the other. It is surprisingly complex and well thought-out at the same time. Each sound or melody carrying a different order, from the most basic "move", to the most complex "assume column formation and accelerate for a kilometer, than revert to diamond formation and slow down". Or at least that what I think it meant.

The strange melody had the unseen benefice of putting to sleep Hesca, allowing her to rest and heal. She broke a few of the newly made stiches this morning. Again.

I consider her lucky, because she is at least doing something as productive as sleeping. I don't know if I was designed to be able to feel bored, but I can swear I am experiencing it right now. The repetitive nature of the sand dunes is starting to wear on me. At least the heat is tolerable : the sun is approaching its peak but the shadowy interior of the pod stays decently fresh. By my standards at least. I can see the purple skin of our guide starting to have small beads of sweats forming or her forehead.

The rest of the day is uneventful. The camp is set up for the night and Via goes back in her tent. I help GR3-DF127 clean the scales rings of the Nilas, something he appreciated enough to send a polite "This one thanks XSS-MK1" my way.

The next few days of travel follow the same pattern and are passed in relative tranquility. At night I helped finish treating Hesca of her remaining wounds, which have all closed up by now. Her body will have to do the last leg of the work. She will also have a decent number of scars now.

She surprised me one night though, when I was changing her bandages by the campfire.

"Thank you…"

I stopped what I was doing to look her in the eyes.

"For what?"

She took a pained expression, and made a random gesture with her hand.

"I don't know… For everything I guess. For saving my life. For defending me. For taking care of me."

I can see tears starting to roll down her cheeks. Her lips are trembling. She is trying to hold it all in.

"I am so sorry… so sorry. For not trusting you…"

I put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay. Think nothing of it."

She closes her eyes and nods slowly while she finally lets the tears escape her eyes unimpeded. Her small sobs are the only thing resonating in the night, as the two moons slowly move over our heads. I looked up and saw Via, by her tent opening, watching us quietly. I gave her a harsh glare, clearly not wanting to be disturbed. She held her hands up in silence, showing that she did not intended to intrude, before going back into her tent in silence.

We got back on the road, or what passes for a road in these sands, the next morning. Via acted as if nothing happened. And Hesca is now smiling a little bit more. Which is good.

But we were back to the boring display of emptiness that was the clockwork desert.

All that monotony was thankfully interrupted when we had to resupply our water reserves at an oasis. We came up on it during the morning of the sixth day of travel. I observed the small encampment made around the source of blue gold when we stopped at its edge to dismount. Tents made in the same fashion of the pods that carried us thus far littered the surroundings in an unorganized mess, with the people walking around covered in head to toe in whitish or brown clothing that hid them from the sun as much as possible. Some of them carried jewelry, consisting of chains and rings carefully placed in strategic places of their garbs, giving them an exotic look. Almost all of them carried weapons too, preferring spears and short curved sabers, with the occasional daggers thrown in to the mix.

As we arrived a few of them came to meet us. Via greeted them with a smile and talked to them in what I recognized to be the main Nomad dialect, spoken by the human and demon tribes living on the edge of the desert. The ones that came to meet us were guards apparently, and they were inquiring of our presence in a suspicious manner before seeing Via and relaxing. Considering Via's profession, I can guess she knows a lot of people around these parts.

After a short conversation, we were led to a place where we could fill our different gourds and water containers before resuming our journey in an expedite fashion. We were back on the "road" before noon, and back to the monotony.

Though it did allow me to notice some small wear on some of my plates' intersections, due to the sand. Something the unconventional palanquins we rode in offered unfortunately no definitive protection against. In a desert, the sand finds it way everywhere, with only time to dictate how fast. An unrelenting and insidious force of nature that I will have to keep an eye on. For now the damage done is almost non-existent, due to the small duration I have been here for and the fact that my metal plates are very resistant to physical exertion. But a few years down the line I can see some of the damage being concerning, especially if no maintenance is available for extended periods of time. I will have to find deposits of titanium, zirconium and vanadium for my repair nanites to do their job. Or I could just cannibalize other places of my body to fix the worn down parts. At least this is not an urgent issue.

Funny how I thought heat would be the main problem, while tiny microscopic rocks turns out to be a bigger issue.

I learned a nice story though. After I asked Via relation with the nomads, she explained to me how she came to do what she does, and a brief history of the nomads as a whole.

"You see, I am a daughter of a nomad clan far from here." She pauses, and takes a big bite from the dried meat jerky she has in her hands. "Nobody important mind you. But I was resourceful enough to get a few big rocks early on that I managed to sell without getting gutted like a skarn. Allowed me to get the first of these big babies." she says, while pointing at the Nilas.

"Big rocks ? People buy those ?" I ask confused, while pointing to the small brown rock formation we decided to stay close to tonight.

"Of course not you tin brain!" She replies while laughing. I can sense Hesca tensing up immediately next to me. She sat herself here to listen to the tale while warming herself by the fire. The cold starts coming down fast once the sun goes over the horizon. "I am talking about precious rocks ; ores and mana stones! The Nomads mine them. Big formations in the desert where the wind sometimes uncovers them. If you can manage a decent haul you can make some good money by selling them to the right people. That is if you can survive long enough to sell them : life is hard out here and competition is cut-throat. Literally."

She takes another bite before continuing.

"Anyway, by that time… 'bout forty years ago I recon, the effects of the Clockwork War were still being felt and nobody really offered good travelling alternatives to the desert cities without taking an arm from their customers. So I figured I would start up my own business with the Nilas. Big calm beasts, easy to tame, eats up rock, sand and anything in between. Moves pretty fast too. They are mostly used for excavation by Nomad tribes. Maintenance is a bitch though. They get stuff wedged in their scales all the time and if you don't take care of it, it can wound them. And then sickness sets in and it's pretty much done by that point. Lost one like that, a long time ago."

She smiles sadly while looking in the distance, probably remembering the moment. Her expression changes to a happy one.

"And before I knew it I was rich! Of course you have stuff you still have to worry about like bandits, monsters and hostile tribes, but those are few and far between. If they don't get the drop on you can manage to outrun most of the threats you encounter here. That and now I have Groundy here to help with cleaning the beasts. Good deal I made, that one. Doesn't talk much but does the job, and does it well."

I wince internally at the fact she considers my kindred as a piece of equipment. A good piece of equipment but a piece of equipment nonetheless. I change the subject.

"Seems like dangerous work. Why didn't you stay in your tribe ?"

She spits on the ground and throw a curse or two in Nomadic before answering me.

"Stuck up fools they were. Father and Mother wanted me to marry as soon as I was of age. To the son of a human merchant no less. Fuckin' baby didn't even have hair on his chest. A pompous and entitled little asshole he was. All of that to honor the traditions. Tradition my ass. More like money up the wazzo and good standing."

I can hear Hesca stifling a laugh at Via's answer. I decide to press on the subject this time.

"Tradition? What kind of tradition are you talking about?"

She calms down a bit before answering.

"Well to explain I'm gonna have to go back a bit. Do you know where the nomads came from ? Cause it's not like we sprouted up from the ground or anything."

I reply with a negative nod. Hesca does the same.

"Figures. Well at the time, long before the clockworks even came up, the human and demons were having one of their little war, like they did every hundred years or so. Fuckin' bloody is what it was, and don't let anyone tell you any different." She gives me and Hesca a knowing look before continuing. "Tale is that in the mist of that bloody carnage, in a small battlefield away from the main conflict, a squad of demon and human met on the edge of the Great Ridge, deep in the mountains of the north. Apparently generals were wondering if there was a pass up there the dwarves didn't told us about. Flanking the enemy from behind and whatnot. Demons were far deeper in human territory than they are now at the time. Turns out there was a pass, except it was infested by monsters. Wyrens as big as my Nilas, and other type of bullshitery as I was told."

She takes a pause, looking around to meet the eyes of Hesca and me, judging her audience with a smile up her lips. She takes a swing of her gourd before wiping her mouth with her sleeve and continuing.

"Anyway, so when they meet, after pushing through the freezing cold, and the unending hordes of monsters, you can guess the last thing they wanted to do was to start bashing on one another. The battle would have drawn more of the beasts, something neither side was willing to go through, and for good reasons. So for a week they kind of sat there, eying each other without really moving. You see, the pass was narrow, so they couldn't cross each other without either duking it out, or leaving their supply wagons behind. Until monsters attacked."

By that point we are listening very carefully to Via. She has us enraptured with her tale.

"They came down upon the humans first and started murdering them left and right. The soldiers' attention was on the demons so they didn't see the fuckers till too late. Now this is where it gets interesting : The demons seeing that, instead of using the opportunity to plow through the humans, decided to help them. What can I tell you : we are an honorable bunch if nothing else, and stabbing someone in the back isn't really our style. After a long and bloody battle, they managed to push back the monsters and save the humans. Who by that point were really confused about getting some much needed help from their mortal enemies. Truth be told, the demons probably saved themselves too, considering the monster horde that attacked was big enough to take on both of the armies."

"At that point the demon commander, a dashing young lieutenant by the name of Farzor Firedread, met up with the human commander, a young but experienced noble maiden by the name of Silvia Beatrix. They agreed to each come back to their respective country, and tell their superiors that the pass was infested, unfit for travel,

and that they had to come back before getting decimated. Which was technically not a lie. That was very important because all reports were made in front of truth readers, to ensure that no spy or traitors was among the ranks in time of war."

"So now you might think "What? Does the story end here? What happened to the young lieutenant and the young maiden?" Well fear not! For their story continues. After being back from that mission and giving their reports, each side was sent away from the front lines. Both units has suffered pretty big casualties and the mission was a fiasco. We are talking about five hundred men and women companies, on each side, coming back with maybe only half that number. But even if they were stripped down of their ranks, the lieutenant and the maiden had seen something in the other. And that thing was peace. Despite the general war climate between the two countries, they managed to get messages across the border and started communicating."

Hesca gives a disbelieving grunt before quickly calming down and allowing Via to carry on.

"Yeah yeah! I know! Don't go out thinking they started exchanging state secrets all of a sudden! At first they talked about the mission they did in the mountain, its consequences, the fallback when they went home. But then it started to evolve : they started to talk about home more personally, and what the hardships of the war was like for them and their countries. Long story short, they didn't like it. That and they were starting to develop feeling for each other through their secret correspondence. So they made a plan."

Via lowers her tone and take on a secretive expression.

"They decided to take some people with them, the ones willing that is, and get them away from the war. I mean the war was bloody, and not everyone supported it. Now, not to the north of course, with all the things just laying in wait to eat them in the mountains, but to the south, where only the hardiest would survive, deep in the desert, and far away enough from the southern war front that they would be left alone. It wasn't the best option, but it was the only one they had. In the end they managed to get about a thousand souls to the both of them and led them deep into the sands, where the First Oasis is. They founded the first Nomad town there, Nilken."

"They even married, as a testament to their feelings for one another and a symbol to the peace they achieved. They lived happily, welcoming over the course of the years the different refugees fleeing there. Over time that lead to different tribes fragmenting and going their own way, looking for an oasis of their own."

"Now both sides were not too happy with the situation at the time, as you might imagine. But they had their hands tied with the war and all. So they kinda let them be, eyeing them from the corner of their eyes, making sure nothing too big happened. And when the war eventually came to a close, the nomad community here was well entrenched and well spread out in the desert. And also pretty happy as long as you left them be. Which both countries, after a bloody long war, were only too happy to do."

"Eventually the Nomads found the precious stones that they mined and sold back to the humans and demons. And considering the nomads were the only ones that knew where you could find some, and were crazy enough to live there and mine them, my guess is that both countries were only too happy to leave the task to us."

"So to come back to tradition: The Lieutenant and the Maiden eventually had a child and lived happy till their end days. Since then it is custom for Nomads to have someone of predominant demon descent to marry with someone belonging to a human one, and vice versa; to honor the two founding heroes of the Nomad People. It has become something more akin to an honored tradition than an obligation over the years of course ; We are not barbaric enough to force people to marry against their wishes."

Her happy expression disappears and she spits again.

"Except the fuckin' Nomads are people forged by and living in hardship! Not some fuckin' prepubescent kid that was sheltered all his life travelling with daddy and mommy!"

Hesca explode into laughter at the unconventional end to the moving tale. I also give a small chuckle. Once she stops laughing, I help Hesca going back to her tent, after giving Via a small thanks for her story. She gazes into the fire for a moment, her eyes lost in the flames, before muttering something to herself, taking a big swing out of that gourd of hers and going back into her tent.

I sit close to the source of light, watching the fire while I activate my antenna and initiate a conversation with GR3-DF127. He is around the worms, checking the harnesses.

"This one has a question GR3-DF127. What happened when the first Nomads met the clockworks?"

"This one is not sure. Lacking necessary information databases to answer query. Further questioning should be addressed to Delta's units. They are more likely to possess the necessary data."

"Hmmm. This one thanks you. Do you require aid in your duty today?"

"This one doesn't require it. However this one appreciate the proposed assistance."

I cut the connection after the last sentence. I stay near the fire, thinking about the story Via told. It was a slightly romantic and idealized tale, probably embellished generations after generations. However it would be interesting to see if it could be possible to find allies in the Nomads. They seems like good people, if their origins are something to go by. There was little about their involvement in the Clockwork War inside the information package Machina gave me.

Oh well: one more thing for me to mull over before I start digging up answers.