When Frances and Timur left the dance floor they knew that people were going to find their dancing suspicious.

They didn’t quite expect the sheer amount of attention they were getting. Many of the Alavari in the tent were either staring at them or whispering in hushed tones. The humans were all wearing expressions of shock or complete confusion.

“Timur, I think we need to leave,” Frances whispered.

“Wait, where… oh your mother and Titania must be talking,” said Timur. He looked at the crowd and pursed his lips. “Frances, do you trust me?”

“Um, yes,” said Frances. Glancing at the prince, she saw that he looked worried, and so she squeezed Timur’s hand.

Timur squeezed back and took a deep breath. “We need to stay. If we leave together, rumours will spread about us sleeping together.”

Frances blinked. She didn’t want to sit close to Thorgoth again, but Timur was right about it preventing a far more dangerous rumour from springing up. She nodded and together, they returned to their seats.

Thorgoth said nothing, he merely smiled wanly at the pair. Even after Titania and Edana returned, he kept quiet and only spoke to say goodbye when the human delegation finally left.

Frances didn’t sleep easy that night. The silence that Thorgoth left was far more menacing than if he had said anything.

A little earlier…

Titania led Edana to a small pavilion that she immediately spelled for privacy.

“I honestly didn’t expect that you would want to talk to me,” the trorc princess admitted. She turned to face Edana and found the Firehand’s brilliant green eyes glaring at her.

“Let me make this clear princess. You assaulted my daughter. I have not forgiven you for that and neither will I forget.” She stepped forward, gesturing with Poker. “But we are united in opposing your father. I trust you with that.”

Titania swallowed, eyes full of regret. “I… I understand. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. You… you raised her well.”

Edana’s expression softened, but she still kept Poker at the ready. “Thanks. Now, I know you don’t know what Thorgoth is planning. What resources do you have for your rebellion and what’s your strategy?”

The trorc princess relaxed just a tad, her expression turning into one of exasperation. “It’s not terrible, but it could be much better. Our supporters are loyal and if we had to muster them the next day we’ll have an army of about fifteen thousand with mages. Moreover, we could muster them at a central location. The war is also growing increasingly unpopular, especially among the common folk.”

“I sense that there’s a catch to this,” said Edana.

“Yes, my father might have up to a hundred-fifty thousand troops. Now, a significant number of these are garrisons and that of his vassals. I’d estimate that his most loyal vassals command about twenty-five thousand troops and he has his personal retinue of troops numbering about twenty-five thousand. That leaves about a hundred thousand that we are going to try to sway.”

“Hmm, doesn’t Alavaria have a standing army loyal to the state?” Edana asked.

Titania pursed her lips. “We do have a standing army, but it is made up of many noble houses, similar to Erisdale and the other Human Kingdoms. The generals and nobles that are appointed to lead these armies exert a lot of control over them, as they’re drawn from the counties they control.”

Edana nodded. This was a similar situation to that of Erisdale, but in Erisdale, the armies were more or less loyal to the king, with the lords only exerting control over much smaller personal retinues.

“So how are you going to sway those lords?” Edana asked.

“We’ve been doing it slowly, sounding out before approaching lords interested in replacing Thorgoth. Some of them are genuinely opposed, but others have grudges or are merely being opportunistic. What we need is something to tear down my father’s image and I hope we can find something by searching Allaniel’s house, and where my brother, Teutobal, died,” Titania explained.

Letting the idea and what the princess said sit in her brain for a while, Edana considered the plan and the alternatives. She had her misgivings but at the moment...

“I think it’s a good plan for the moment. I won’t tell the king about our suspicions about Teutobal’s death, but I think they’ll support you.” Truth be told, Edana was sure that all it would take was for the Erisdalians to hear “rebellion against Thorgoth” for them to throw money at Titania. The princess didn’t have to know that, however.

“Support us with what?” Titania asked. “Would they recognize us?”

Edana shook her head. “Money for the moment. Depending on how this conference goes and if the war continues, then we’ll consider recognizing you.”

Titania narrowed her eyes. “We need recognition—”

“Which would not help you. The Alavari don’t care which human kingdom supports you,” said Edana.

“The Alavari commoners don’t care, the Alavari nobles do.” Titania narrowed her eyes at Edana. “You… you know this, don’t you.”

Edana nodded. “Yes, but I don’t know if I can trust you and given what you’ve done, can you blame me?”

“I said I’m sorry—”

“Not good enough. You may be opposed to your father, but only the Gods know if you will make a good queen,” Edana hissed.

Titania flinched, her eyes dropping to the floor as Edana forced herself to keep the vehemence boiling under her skin from rising to the surface. The older woman sighed and lowered her staff a bit.

After all, like her own daughter, Titania had been abused as a child. She deserved some compassion.

“In the event of the outbreak of a rebellion, Erisdale is likely going to endorse you. It’s just we won’t be willing to do so before that occurs,” Edana explained.

Sighing with relief, Titania smiled, “That… that’ll be good enough for now.”

Crossing her arms, Edana continued, “Erisdale will also be willing to send money and equipment…”

The day before the time of the Delbarria Island Meeting, thousands of miles away, a troll and an orc waited at a crossroads with their horses. Both were female and both were armed. The troll had a staff and was watching their surroundings, her tail flicking nervously. The orc in contrast was stretching, taking care not to knock against the warhammer hanging against her side.

“Ayax, sit down. You’re going to worry yourself tired,” Elizabeth said.

Ayax grumbled but sat down against one of the trees lining the road. “I don’t know about meeting Antigones and his son um, what’s his name?”

“Aralik. He seemed pleasant enough when we talked to him,” said Elizabeth. The human disguised as an orc sat down beside her girlfriend. “We’re going to be fine, Ayax.”

The troll sighed, “I sure hope so. We’re but a day away now. It’s just… never mind.” She shook her head.

Elizabeth snuggled up to Ayax’s side, stroking the troll’s neck. “You’re going back to where your parents died, dear. It’s alright to feel nervous, and scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Ayax said this without any vehemence, her eyes half-lidded and moist. “It happened in the past, it’s done. It’s just… Oh, I don’t know, Liz. There’s just something about that place that feels heavy.”

The Otherworlder sort of understood what her girlfriend meant. When she was on Earth, she’d gone to several of the local cathedrals in her country of birth, Canada, and while the atmosphere had never been oppressive, their grandeur had seemed to impose a pressure on her.

“I’ll be with you, no matter what,” said Elizabeth, hugging Ayax.

“Thanks,” Ayax whispered, returning the embrace.

The thunder of hooves shook Elizabeth and Ayax apart and sprang them to her feet. Quickly, they readied their weapons.

“How many horses, Ayax?” Elizabeth asked, hand on her hammer.

Ayax strained her ears. “Two horses or ponies, and two war boars. Should we hide?”

Leaning against the tree, Elizabeth shook her head. “No, but let’s act casual like we’re just relaxing after a long ride.”

Nodding, Ayax pretended to be checking her horse’s tackle, whilst Elizabeth took a sip from her flask of water.

There were four approaching the crossroads. Leading the group was an armoured centaur carrying a lance with a gold and white pennant attached to the end. Behind her were two orcs on the war boars. They were followed by a goblin on a pony. As the group sighted Ayax and Elizabeth they slowed down.

“Strangers, identify yourself!” bellowed the centaur.

Ayax hefted her staff but made sure to just hold it straight. She didn’t want to make any threatening moves. “We’re merely travellers heading to Everglenia. I’m Ayax, and this is my partner Lizara.”

“Ayax?” The larger of the boar riders took his boar past from behind the centaur. Elizabeth and Ayax blinked. It was General Antigones, wearing light armour over his riding clothes.

Neither Ayax nor Elizabeth relaxed. They weren’t at war, but until a few weeks ago, the Alavari had been the enemy. But Ayax did lower her staff. She’d never met the general in person, but he’d been her father’s good friend. Courtesy was owed.

“General Antigones, we finally meet,” she said.

The orc dismounted, landing with a thud on the dirt and walking past his guard. “Indeed. You look a lot like your mother.”

Ayax let him approach and when he extended his hand, she took it and shook it firmly. Once again, she was reminded of how formidable the elderly general was from the strength of his grip.

“So I’ve been told. Who’s with you?” Ayax asked, glancing at the remaining people.

The smaller orc that had been following Antigones gave a friendly wave. Despite his fangs, he had a rather pleasant smile, even if he was just as largely built as Antigones.

“Hi. I’m Aralik, Antigones’s son. The centaur is Arima, my fiance and one of our family’s most trusted guards. The goblin’s Runatius, my best friend from the Alavari Academy and a magic forensics expert. They know about Thorgoth’s tyranny,” said the orc.

Glancing at one another, Elizabeth and Ayax didn’t speak but sought each other’s opinions on their faces. Ayax was hesitant but was nodded once, whilst Elizabeth was smiling.

Agreement reached, they went to mount their horses.

“Alright, let’s get going then,” said Ayax.

Coincidentally, around the same time, Martin, Ginger and Renia were on a small boat, sailing towards Keelcracker island. Ginger was piloting the boat, whilst Martin and Renia were just doing their best to hang on to the boat, and to their breakfasts.

Despite their best efforts, the waves were throwing Martin and Renia up into the air and slamming them down onto the thwarts of the boat. Ginger, against the stern of the tiny boat, holding onto the tiller, ducked down low enough so the boat’s single triangular sail wouldn’t hit her in the head.

“Honey, remind me, how long has it been since you’ve been on a boat?” Martin bellowed.

Her hair tied up behind her, Ginger, shrugged and wiped sea spray from her eyes. “Oh a while, but my family were fisherfolk. It never really leaves you.”

“How will Olgakaren get to the island?” Martin yelled.

“I don’t know, but a skilled flier can get through this. I’m just not a very good flier,” said Renia sheepishly. Looking sick, she hugged the boat and vomited over the side.

Ginger smiled sympathetically. “Just hang on, we’re not far from Clinkertown.”

“Clinkertown? Right, the only town on Keelcracker Island, ” Martin stammered.

“More a village than a town. I’ve been there once.” Ginger thumbed over to the mainland. “My village was on the east coast of Erisdale rather than the south, but we did visit Keelcracker.”

“So… a lot of ships get wrecked on Keelcracker, right?” Renia asked. “How do we know if the people in Clinkertown have stolen anything from the wreck already?”

“Oh trust me, they would, but they couldn’t have,” said Ginger, grimacing. “Your convoy got wrecked on the south side of Keelcracker. That’s just horribly craggy terrain. A harpy may be able to access it, but it will be too risky for humans. We just need to get you and Olgakaren to that side safely.”

“Get us to Clinkertown safely first,” Martin groaned.

Clinkertown was truly more of a village than a town. It was basically a scattering of houses almost thrown all over a gentle sloping gravelly dirt. Some rocky gardens were cultivated, but it was clear from all the boats that the main economy of the town was fish.

Martin and Ginger moored their boat by Clinkertown’s dock. Fishermen and women stared at them as they disembarked, probably finding their clothing rather strange and their weapons very unusual. It wasn’t that the trio was wearing odd clothing, but they weren’t wearing the sea gear that those in the harbour were.

“Right, guess we’re heading to an inn first, Ginger?” Martin asked.

“Fraid not, villages this small don’t have inns,” said Ginger congenially.

“Wait, where are we sleeping, then?” Renia asked.

“Don’t worry, there are some abandoned huts up the hill. They’re for visiting fishermen or people making long trips and nobody owns them. They’ll be uncomfortable as sin, but they’ll shelter us.” Ginger took a deep breath. “The problem is that we need to pay for a place at the pier, a map of the island, or at least a chart of the coast and that means we need to visit the harbour master. That might get us some attention.”

Leading the way, Ginger stepped off the pier and toward a rather large building, the largest on the island in fact, that smelled strongly of fish. The reason why became apparent as the barn-like structure housed lots of salted fish on racks. People were moving in and out through it, hefting wheelbarrows and nets full of fish onto processing tables.

Martin was a little surprised to find, though, that many of the people moving fish onto the processing tables weren’t the typical blonde-haired, brown-skinned Erisdalians, but were paler people with red hair, similar to what his fiance had, which was typical of those from Lapanteria.

“Hey, you there, who are you and what are you here for?” Ginger put her hands on her hips and faced the speaker, a sea-weathered man with a white moustache.

“We’re on official crown business. I’m Ginger, this is Sir Martin of Conthwaite and our companion Renia. I’d like to ask to speak to the harbourmaster,” said Ginger.

“You’re talking to him. I’m Hook.” He extended his hand and Ginger shook it. Hook frowned briefly as he squeezed her hand, and Ginger suspected that he could feel the scars and weathering on her palm and fingers.

“Nice to meet you. We’d like to get a map of the coast and we can pay good money for it. There’s a shipwreck we’d like to try to locate on the south side,” Ginger explained.

The man was giving Ginger an unreadable expression, which only deepened as she finished her explanation.

Still, after a moment, he nodded. “On the south side? You’re not going to have much luck getting there. We do have a spare map, though,” said Hook. The man ducked into a small room off to the side of the building and came out with a map. Ginger paid him upfront for the map and the spot on the pier and the three set out of the town as quickly as they could.

“Should we call, Olgakaren?” Martin asked once they were up the slope and a good distance from the town.

“Yeah,” said Ginger, glancing over her shoulder. There were some people in the town looking after them, which was annoying, but not unexpected. “We should be fine. Don’t take off your cloak, though, Renia.”

Renia nodded, as Martin pulled out the wooden communication charm and thought of Olgakaren.

“Olgakaren here,” said a tired voice, wind cutting in and out over it.

“Olgakaren, it’s Martin. We’re on Keelcracker island. Where are you?”

“Hiding above the clouds over the town. Where are—ah, are you the trio making up the hill?” the harpy asked.

Martin looked around and didn’t see the harpy. He did, however, see the crest of the hill ahead. “Yes. Meet you over the ridge?”

“Sounds good!” Olgakaren exclaimed.

Once over the ridge, Olgakaren swooped down from the sky and landed. Although warmly dressed in a jerkin and tight pants, she shivered slightly from the cold. Ruffling her black-speckled silver wings, the harpy gasped. “Water please.”

Martin uncorked and helped the harpy sip from his own flask.

“Thanks. Blast the winds are crazy up there and please tell me you have somewhere I can stay? I’ve been dodging humans all the way through Erisdale,” Olgakaren gasped, blinking rapidly.

“It’s a bit rough, but yes, there will be somewhere to stay,” said Ginger, eyeing the harpy with wary eyes.

“Thank Galena. And you…” Olgakaren frowned at Renia, who stepped behind Morgan. “Who are you?”

“She’s the survivor of the wreck and our source. We’re keeping her identity on a need-to-know basis. You can call her Phrygia,” said Martin, using the alias that they’d agreed to give Olgakaren when they met.

Ginger, however, noticed that Renia, who’d pressed up behind her, was shivering, and not from the cold.

“Olgakaren, can you excuse us?” the convict asked.

The young harpy frowned, spreading her wings. She had an impressive wingspan and Martin found his hand twitching towards his sword.

“Look, why can’t you let us know who she is? We’re on the same side. Besides, how do we know you aren’t just making this all up and getting a random Alavari to confess this.”

“It’s not our decision to make, Olgakaren. If Phrygia is happy with it, then yes, but you’re going to have to trust us like we’re trusting you now,” said Martin, smiling disarmingly.

Olgakaren narrowed her eyes. “You do know Frances saved my life, right?”

“And Timur’s in love with Frances, but until recently was loyal to his father,” Ginger said in a dry tone.

An exasperated look came over the young harpy’s face. Groaning, she buried her face in her wings.

“Good point. Okay, I won’t pry. You don’t need to hide, Phrygia,” said Olgakaren. Renia didn’t reply at first. Just as Ginger was wondering if she should take the older harpy away, she sighed.

“Sorry, I just needed a moment. I know Olgakaren won’t know who I am, but I was just worried. It’s… it’s been a long time since I’ve met another harpy from Alavaria.” Renia stepped behind Ginger, lifted her hood and curtsied. “Hi, I’m Phrygia, nice to meet you.”

Only, it was like Olgakaren had been struck by a thunderbolt. Her eyes widened. Her legs gave out and she fell to the ground, her claws scrabbling at the ground.

“Lady Neria? It’s… Oh, Galena it’s really you,” Olgakaren croaked.

Martin and Ginger glanced at each other in horror, whilst Renia covered her mouth in shock.

“Wait, you know her?” Ginger asked.

Olgakaren shook her head. “No. I just… when I was at court with my mom, I saw her with Prince Teutobal. Every harpy wanted to be her or was jealous of her.”

“Your mother?” Renia asked.

“Queen Berengaria,” Olgakaren stammered.

“Huh, Beria married Thorgoth. That… that’s a bit surprising, but I can see why.” Renia sighed. “Olgakaren, please, you can’t tell anybody.”

The harpy shook her head and fluttered her wings. “Oh, Galena no. I’m not saying anything. I thought say one of the guards or maybe even Teutobal survived. If Thorgoth finds out, you have no chance of defending yourself against him.”

Wincing, Ginger turned to Renia. “That… is comforting?”

Renia sighed. “It’s what I expected when I ran.” She helped Olgakaren up. “Let’s get this over with.”

In Alavaria, the journey towards Ayax’s old village was made in silence. It’s hard to talk while riding galloping horses after all.

They had to break camp eventually and after the group had set up tents and gotten their rations out, Antigones broke the silence.

“Do you know when your parents died, Ayax?” the general asked.

Ayax narrowed her eyes at Antigones from across the fire. “When I was thirteen, shortly after the war started.” She winced and forced the scowl off her face. “I’m sorry for being so nervous, sir. We’ve been fighting Alavaria for a long time.”

Antigones nodded. “And you’re likely to be fighting us for longer. We’re not ready to rebel against Thorgoth yet. Hopefully, Allaniel left something that might help us.”

“What do you think you’re going to find, sir?” Elizabeth asked. She and Ayax knew what they wanted to find, but they weren’t sure what the Alavari were looking for.

The orc general exchanged a glance with his son and guards.

“Your father and I were exchanging correspondence leading up to the war and one of the topics we were discussing was Ixtar and the war’s justness. Your father kept records of the hunt and investigation into his crimes and he might have something that might be able to tie Thorgoth to what he did, and perhaps to other crimes that he did. Loyal as he was to Alavaria, he detested Thorgoth, though, I never got the story as to why,” said Antigones.

“My father and you were close?” Ayax asked.

“Very. In fact, he introduced me to Zirabelle,” said the general, smiling wistfully.

“He introduced you to mom?” Aralik stammered.

“Allaniel and I were childhood friends since we grew up in the house of my father, Chief Demetios of the Blackhand Orcs. We kept in touch when he went off to the Academy, that is the Alavari Academy for Magic, our most prestigious school. That’s where he met Zirabelle and later introduced her to me.”

“Allaniel was raised by an orc chieftain?” Elizabeth inquired.

“He was orphaned by the ongoing civil strife, but he had a talent for magic, so my father decided to take him in,” Antigones explained. “Our friendship only got stronger as we fought in that civil strife and helped put King Thorgoth on the throne. We thought it would get better after that, but… well here we are.”

Elizabeth crossed her arms. “Sir, why did you declare war on the Human Kingdoms? I mean, we know why Thorgoth wanted war, but there had to be some justification he used to rally the Alavari.”

“Um, the humans broke their promises and insulted us, Otherworlder,” said Runatius incredulously.

Aralik nudged the goblin. “Runatius, please, the Otherworlders might not have been told. By Galena, most humans might not know. Now, I’m not sure what the White Order told you, but do you know of the 3rd Treaty of Kwent?”

“No…” said Elizabeth, frowning. Ayax shook her head as well.

“Two hundred years ago, the human rulers of Roranoak, Erisdale and Vertingen swore never to claim Vertingen, Delbarria and other territories that were disputed with the Kingdom of Alavaria. But as we fell to civil strife, they did exactly that. Erisdale and Lapanteria even fought their 4th war over Vertingen, the one where Edana Firehand made her name, taking advantage of our weakness.”

Elizabeth blinked, remembering what Frances had told her about her first adventure. “Wait, but Vertingen is unoccupied,” she stammered.

The centaur, Arima, shook her head. “Erisdale and Lapanteria occupied parts of it. Not the entire plain, but in a direct and clear violation of the treaty. They did leave it, but only after King Tagus paid them to do so. He didn’t want them to use the summoning system.”

“Wait, but it wouldn’t have worked. It would only summon us if the human kingdoms were attacked,” Elizabeth said, remembering the briefing they’d been given when they arrived in Durannon.

“Would it differentiate between Alavaria launching a war to reclaim stolen territory, or Alavaria launching an invasion?” Runatius growled.

Elizabeth swallowed. She didn’t know. The system had never been very clear on that part. It didn’t seem to want to punish the Alavari. It only requested they kill King Thorgoth, but could it make the distinction between wars?

No, it didn’t justify what Alavaria had done up until now, but it did throw the war into shades of grey. Then again, hadn’t this whole war been fought in shades of grey? With convict soldiers fed against a horrible Alavarian king and his supporters?

The question stayed with Elizabeth even when she went to bed, sleeping beside Ayax. They were amongst the many in her mind as she lay down beside her girlfriend. As she turned over to glance at what Ayax was doing, she found the troll staring at her.

“Liz, something’s bothering you,” said Ayax.

Elizabeth sighed and shuffled closer to Ayax. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

“You didn’t smile once after they told us about what Erisdale and the other human kingdoms did,” said Ayax. She gently touched Elizabeth’s chin. “You’re not at fault, Liz.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have been so ignorant.” She was close enough that her nose was almost touching Ayax’s, and yet she didn’t feel like kissing her. “I’m more worried about the human kingdoms. This isn’t the first time they’ve done something bad. The more we look, the more we find and… there’s just something I feel is on the horizon.”

Ayax was staring at Elizabeth now, mouth trying to form words and failing. It made Elizabeth happy that her girlfriend was trying to comfort her, but she knew there was nothing the troll could do.

“Ayax, I know it’s just a feeling, but I feel something about this war is going to change.”

“Then it probably is. Your feelings are rarely wrong. We will survive it, Liz.” Four fingered hands brought Elizabeth’s forehead to her love’s. It was warm, soft and it did a little to abate the worry in her chest.