Chapter Seven

Max Four

It had taken half a day for the plan to be decided and the preparations to be complete. Darius was fitted with his noble, pristine, elven armour. Other than the veins of fire he was the embodiment of the arrogant elvan noble. The appearance angered Max, however he allowed it for the plan to work. There was no armour that would fit him and his towering stature, so he was forced to wrap cloth around his face leaving only his eyes visible. Darius and the rest of the elves were given horses and road at the head of the column, with Max close behind on foot.

The column made its way along the road quickly coming into view off the plateau, where horns loudly sounded throughout the air. With a speed Max respected, a large force of hounds begun equipping themselves with shoddy fragmented armour and chipped ancient blades, setting themselves up in defence. Max counted roughly seventy, poorly equipped but heavily muscled hounds setting up atop the plateau.

Max felt his mind slipping once more into the trance like state of battle as the red coloured his eyes, before realising something was wrong, a feeling that Minion echoed. Hounds did not fight defensively; they were a brutal frontline troop you send to break the lines of your enemies through their sheer strength and force of will. In over seventy years of fighting them, Max had never once seen them take a defensive stance.

Minion and Max began discussing this strange phenomenon before deciding they had no choice but to approach, even if it meant giving them less time to retreat. The column continued its march along the poorly maintained Weennore, being watched with every step by the monstrous beasts. When they reached the bottom of the slope, that winds up to the top of the plateau overlooking the road, a monstrous howl sounded. Once the howl died down, it was replaced by a grizzled feral growling, that meant nothing to Max however Minion whispered a translation.

“He says he is Fetris the Bloody Pelt, he demands your title.” Minion whispered in imperial, making Max rush to think of a response. Using his connection to the souls he had claimed, he sent a wordless order to Darius. He sat stood proud and noble upon his steed, responding in the old tongue, a language Max hoped the hound understood as Max only roughly did.

“I am Darius of House Sorbus, heir to the throne of Scarvo!” Darius yelled into the air, his eyes were fixed to Fetris, who breathed heavily in what Max understood to be him holding back his bloodlust, as he too often did the same.

Looking over the creatures, Max marvelled at the creatures of war. Max was only taller than a handful of them, as many were above eight feet tall and made of solid muscle mass. The closes comparison to them were wolfs that stood upon two legs and were far stronger than they were fast. Soft fur covered their bodies, leaving only their chest exposed, were fragmented pieces of armour attempted to cover the surface but failing. They had long muzzles, some with thick steel hoops embedded within. Most had large blades for teeth on display, dripping with cloudy liquid as they attempted to calm their bloodlust, much the same as there leader. There were muscles even in their faces, that was thick and powerful giving them the strength to tear into anything they hungered for. Many had tuffs of hair protruding from their heads, the biggest amongst them had braided them with golden hoops that travelled down their backs. Their feet were like claws, attached to broad legs that bent forwards, even when they stood straight. Many snorted and shook their bodies trying in vain to keep calm, waiting for their leader to give the order. Max's inspection of the creatures was cut short when once more their leader growled in its guttural language towards them.

“I believe he asked, ‘you are blood of Silver Chieftain?’” Minion translated after a few moments of thought. Max had not believed it when Minion had told him Darius and his brothers were top contenders to inherit the throne. It made him even happier he had killed the prick. Once more Max gave Darius the answer through his mind.

“Yes, I am his blood and his future successor! As such I am insulted you would block my way!” Darius replied, letting anger into his voice as Max had ordered. The hounds snarled at that response; however, Max knew these creatures only respected strength.

“He said, ‘this is our road; all must pay to pass, with shiny or blood.’” Minion translated when the creature roared once more. Max was confused, why was the hound not standing down?

“Are you so simple minded that you do not understand your place creature, I am the blood of the King, you are but petulant servants, you do not make demands of me!” Darius yelled before riding his horse closer and spitting towards the hounds.

“He said that ‘if you are a blood of the chieftain, then you would have much shiny to pay the toll.’” The hound growled, intensifying it further when Darius did not show fear or hesitation.

“I am not giving any shiny to the likes of you, know your place and get out of my way now!” Darius replied, a growl of his own edging into his voice, as Max ordered him to unsheathe his sword and level it towards the beast atop the hill. Max began to wonder if perhaps he had gone too far, the power the elves had over these lands was meant to put fear into even the hardiest of creatures. Finally, the hound replied, blood dripping from its hands where is claws had buried themselves into his palm.

“I think he said, ‘you choose blood then!’” Minion translated as the creature pulled its axe high into the air and roared into the sky. Max cursed himself, he had never seen a hound show no fear to an elf. He drew his weapons alongside the skal, who took up arms with whatever they could find, mostly being construction equipment they had been using in the town. Before the hounds could ravage them, a voice cut through the battle howls.

“That is enough!” The hounds froze in place, before turning to look behind them. Seeing his chance, Max orders Darius and the other elves to fall back and defend the front of the column, preparing to fight their way through the hounds and their reinforcements. Most of the children and women had been pre-emptively moved to the rear of the column, while those who could fight, were pushed to the front ready to kill as many of the hounds as they could. Stepping forward, preparing to take up his position at the front of the fight, Max swung his swords, preparing his muscles and missing his hammer Rib Smasher with all his heart.

As Max arrived at the head however, he saw the hounds still staring behind them, seemingly unaware the enemy was preparing themselves for battle. As Max’s forces prepared themselves as he had instructed, only Fetris turned to look at them, once more showing his teeth and fangs. His eyes no longer stared at Darius however, now they glared directly at Max as his animal instincts named Max the real threat in this force. Once more, Max readied himself for the fight, however it still did not come. The hounds slowly turned to look at him once more, waiting with their weapons in hand, simply staring without their snarls. Finally, Fetris spoke with a heavy growl edged into his voice, Minion quickly translating while clutching a small bag of stones behind Max.

“I cannot say for certain, but I believe he just said, ‘the Mystic wishes to speak to the Wraith and not his worms. If we do anything to hurt them, we will be eaten.’” Minion repeated with confusion edged into his voice. ‘Wraith’, a term Max had been called before, bestowed upon him by magic users. Max did not like that, assuming whoever this Mystic was, was a great magic wielder. If this Mystic started throwing magic around, then only Chris’s sword would be able to slice through the spells and kill the wielder, so Max ordered him to join them at the front of the column.

Slowly a new figure peered over the plateau, the woman. She stared over the group, her eyes examining every one of them.

“What are you?” She asked, her eyes rested upon Darius and the other elves atop their steed’s. From this close, Max could make out the beautiful brown orbs that were her eyes, however it was difficult to see as they ever so slightly slanted almost like an elf, however not so drastic. She wore very little clothing, what she did have on appeared to be a ripped and worn dress, covering her breast and waist but leaving her short slender legs exposed, as well as large holes showing her chest.

“He elf Kings pack.” Fetris replied in imperial, sounding out each word as he did. Max let out a groan at having wasted time with translation, when the brutes could speak the human tongue.

“I don't know what he is, but he is not an elf anymore. Curiously enough, I am not even sure if he is alive.” She replied, her words clear and elegant as she turned and disappeared. When she appeared once more, she was walking down the slopes with four hounds at her back, one being Fetris. She arrived and begun strolling amongst the elves, peering at them as though she was seeing right through their bodies and into their souls. Intending to keep his identity secret, fearing how the hounds would react, Max spoke to Darius giving him new orders within his mind.

“How dare you female, I will not have human scum speak to me like that!” Darius’s voice was filled with insult, and Max could not help but respect his servant for fulfilling his orders so well that even he believed it.

“How about we drop the ruse?” The female said, her eyes no longer looking at the elves but looking directly at Max, with the hint of a smile upon her soft lips. “They are somehow linked to you; I can see tendrils wrapped around them that come from your body. Whatever you just did let me see energy pass from you into this so-called ‘elf’. I've never seen anything like it, how do you do it?”

Letting out a groan at failing so spectacularly, Max reached up and pulled loose the face cover, throwing it to the floor. His eyes bore into hers, giving off their green glow as his emotions ran rampant.

“I think the more important question is why I should tell you a damn thing, witch?” Max replied with a growl, receiving only a grin from the woman who seemingly could not stop smiling.

“You not speak to Mystic female like that!” Fetris warned in his broken way, before stamping closer, staring directly into Max’s eyes. He made Max feel small, forcing him to look up at the towering figure in front of him, something he was not used to doing.

“Stop it Fetris, you are making the Gods angry, you will incur their wrath!” The woman demanded with a stern tone, her small hands moving to her hips and a frown replaced her smile. The hounds swallowed hard before lowering its head in submission, stepping away. The woman's eyes did not leave him, as she pressed her command once more. “You are to guide this man’s people to our camp, where we will feed and share our water with them. None are to be harmed, am I clear?”

Max’s eyes shot to her, as he had no intention of simply walking into their camp. He intended to tell her so, perhaps even take her hostage, as clearly she was of importance to them and not the captured damsel she had appeared as. However, as his eyes met hers, he saw something within them that gave him pause. Slowly, she made her way over to him, before resting her mouth inches from his ear and whispering.

“Please, I need your help!” Her voice was strained, sounding as though she was on the edge of choking. When she pulled away and stared into his eyes once more, he could see a tear forming in her right eye, before she blinked it away and once more return to her confident self, giving orders to those around her. Minion crawled up beside Max, while the woman began sending hounds to prepare a feast and to give word that none of Max’s people were to be harmed.

“What do you think? She's your kinsman, can she be trusted?” Minion’s eyes never left her body the same as Max’s, although, he imagined they were staring at different areas. His eyes could not help glancing over her thin neck, with a grin forming on his lips as it did, before a voice from his past reminded him, ‘The Way’.

“We have no silver to pay a toll, in a fight we would likely all die, or at the very least enough that we would never recover. I don't see any other choice than to take a chance.” Max replied, once more making the decision, wondering if Minion resented him for it. The creature simply nodded before issuing orders, causing the column to begin once more moving into the unknown.

A tense mood settled over the hound's camp, as the inhabitants snarled and glared at the skal, as well as the two new humans amongst them. They did however dutifully complete their orders and set to work roasting a large hog atop the fire, passing around a liquid they called Root of the Mountain. Whatever the liquid was, Max did not drink any, however many of his small companions did, each quickly beginning to chirp in enjoyment, showing it to be powerful. Max and his forces remained on guard, their weapons at the ready as they patrolled the camp looking for any signs of deception.

Max’s eyes continuously went to the red haired woman, who sat on a small throne next to Fetris, his eyes never leaving Max’s. His throne was made of bones and towered above hers, yet she must be important as she had the only other seat in the camp. Her seat was made of furs, seemingly from wolves, however there was no doubt it looked uncomfortable, the structure of the throne being made of sharp bones.

As the night grew older and the booze passed faster, the mood slightly changed to a happier one. There was still tension buried beneath, mostly being carried by Max and Fetris who both remained ready for a fight. Three females practically rubbed themselves over Fetris as the night went on, distracting his glares and giving Max a chance to sneak out of his eyesight and patrol the camp himself. As he made his way around, he caught glimpses of young pup’s playing with young skal, including Rod. They chase one another around, trying to keep a stick out of reach of the others. While the pup’s had the strength and size advantage, it was clear the skal were more nimble, able to climb out of reach where they taunted their new friends. Max found it curious the pups seemed to run on all fours like little wolves, while their parents only seemed to walk upon two legs.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” A beautiful voice asked from behind him, making him tense up. He had heard the approach however assumed it had been a skal, as the steps were light and nothing like the brutish hounds. He turned to see the woman staring up at him, with a smile still on her face. She raised her right hand into the air and wagged her finger towards herself, before turning and walking towards the edge of the camp. Quickly, Max followed behind, finding himself heading towards the edge of the northern cliff of the plateau. While they were out of range of hearing, they still had eyes watching them from within the camp.

“I have a lot of questions, first…” Max began, however was interrupted as she held her index finger over her small lips. The gesture caused Max to think things, both that he was forbidden to think, and that he shouldn’t in that moment. She continued leading him away, until arriving at a large stone circle, that rested inches above the plateau surface with a pedestal upon it. Strange symbols were engraved within the stone plate, including what appeared to be imperial, however Max was unable to make out most of the words having never truly learned to read. The woman guided him towards the pedestal, where she rested her hand upon it and closed her eyes, staring towards Max. After a few moments of silence, she opened her eyes and lunged towards Max.

She wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug and squeezed him tight. Max had been expecting a lot of things to happen, however her hugging him had not even been considered. He tensed, almost on instinct going to strike her and throw her off the cliff, before realising it was not an attack. For one so small, her grip was fierce, even though she was barely able to reach around his entire body.

“Sorry, it's just been a very long time since I have seen another of my kin, I almost wept and ruined everything!” She whispered into his chest, sounding terrified as she did. Max looked down at her, unsure of what to do. His upbringing had involved very little contact with women, whenever he had, he always had one of his brothers at his side. Going on instinct alone, he reached his right hand up and rested it on her back, squeezing her to him. He then started stroking her long red hair that reached her stomach, it felt softer than any bed he had slept in. The two stayed ensnared for a long time, before finally she let go and attempted to stand back. Not realising she was going to move; he stopped her escape before letting go with an awkward laugh.

“So, you have been here a while?” Max said to cover up his awkwardness. He noticed her eyes had tears within them, that she quickly wiped away before replying in a more confident tone.

“Yes… I was on an expedition under the orders of the Emperor himself, when our ship was attacked. We won the fight, however the ship caught fire and we were forced to abandon. Luckily, I was able to swim ashore along with several men from Truestar. Many of the others were not so lucky, being pulled under when the ship went down. It has been over a year since I have seen another Eden, hence me bawling like a child.” She said with a small grin as a blush formed on her cheeks. “That is also why my clothing has become worn, I apologize for being in such a state.”

“How did you end up here? I cannot imagine the hound's rescued you out of the kindness of their heart?” Max probed, curious about this woman who could order beasts, also not wishing to linger on her body.

“They didn't, those of us who made it ashore were set upon by these hounds. They killed the men; while I was spared, along with another woman called Sara, by the previous chieftain of this pack. We were to be a gift for Fetris who was coming of age. They wanted me to… well, I think you can guess.” The woman wringed out her hands, her eyes peering back in time before refocusing on Max. “Luckily, I used my knowledge of the hounds and was able to convince them to not hurt me. I could not help Sara, the Captain’s daughter… luckily, she did not last long.”

Max’s face showed no emotion; however, his eyes once more saw red, on instinct clutching the blades handles at his waist. It was not unheard of for many raiders from Scarvo to take women from the Empire, bringing them back home to rape and play with like toys. The difficulty many of the older races had breeding made them desperate to acquire females, especially of the incredibly fertile humans. Even if they had not hurt this girl in that way, they had still intended to and had killed several others who had survived the battle. Max decided not to ask what they did to the Captain’s daughter; it would only make him angrier if she confirmed his thoughts.

“I am a Mystic you see, that is how I knew what to say. While I am not a very skilled magic wielder, I am an expert on many of the old races that make up Scarvo. With that knowledge, I knew the hounds were deeply superstitious and often the elves used religion to manipulate them into subservience. I convinced them that I am a prophet of the Goddess Nara, sent to help their creator, Stagross. I told them Nara gives me visions of the future, visions that if followed shall earn them forgiveness for past sins against Stagross.”

“If they harm me, the Goddess shall rain down death and destruction upon them, if they leave me unharmed, she will reward them. I may have also added that these visions are only given to virgins, so if any were to touch me my powers would be severed. You should have seen the infighting that happened that night.” The woman said with a forced grin masking the bad memories.

“A female Mystic? You must have an incredible mind?” Max was stunned, he heard only men could pass the tests and could not believe this small woman could be so intelligent. Max was even more intrigued by this woman; she was like a gemstone he had never seen before. The Mystics of the Phoenix Empire were legendary, the smartest and most brilliant minds humanity had to offer. There was nothing in this world they did not study in an attempt to comprehend. Everything from everyday life things like the growth of wheat, to the most hidden and mystical arts. Max had even heard they studied soil to find out what made some crops grow better in certain places, something that was no doubt useful but to Max it sounded tedious.

“I wouldn’t say ‘incredible,’ my magical ability is limited to healing mostly, as well as a few tricks I learned. I do have a masterful understanding of the old races, one that I have used to help where I can.” Her eyes move to the floor, regret covered her face for a moment before her smile returned. “I saw a glimpse of you in the grass earlier, although I must admit I was unsure what you were, I could only see you through true sight. You appeared as a Wraith, clad in the souls of the dead, spilling blood wherever you stepped. In truth, I thought you had come here to kill me, it was only when I saw you did I realise you were also a human. Your soul had still been unnerving until I saw the other, a man of the Black Legion. Only then did I know for sure you must not be a monster.”

Max remembered back to when those words have been used by others. Magic wielders always claimed he had the appearance of a monster when they looked at him. They claimed when they looked at his soul, there was nothing but death and suffering. Shaking his head to clear the past, he once more looked upon the woman in front of him and gave a laugh.

“I don't even know your name, mine is Max, what is yours miss?” He asked, hoping she would not inquire about his further.

“My name is Mesial Mystic, Anna of Truestar, although you may call me just Anna, it is a pleasure to meet you, Max.” She said with a giggle before reaching her hand out for him to shake. Responding with a laugh of his own, he shook her hand, realising it was half the size of his, which made him laugh further. He studied her name, ‘Mesial Mystic’, was the rank given to the highest levels of students, those who had yet to decide their final subject of mastery. Using the name ‘Truestar’, the name of the ruling family of the kingdom with the same name, marked her as a peasant from those lands, although her Mystic training had made her appear as a noble from what Max had seen. Still smiling and shaking his hand, she asked. “I don't suppose you can help me, can you? They see me as their Priestess, they listen to my guidance but refuse to let me leave. I cannot stay in this dark place anymore; it’s killing my soul.”

“I will do whatever I can, however I must admit I'm not sure what I can do, short of killing everyone here. Any less violent ideas?” He asked, still holding her hand, enjoying the sensation of touching a woman, after over one hundred and forty years of being taught to fear them. She pressed her lips together, thinking before shaking her head, making her long hair sway.

“I honestly don't know; I was hoping you would think of something.” She said grinning, seemingly fine with holding his hand too. “You never told me what you are doing here?”

“I was hoping you could tell me; I received a letter that spoke of a woman in the clutches of a warband who needed help. The letter begged me to come find you and help you. It claimed you would be able to guide me to a location of importance.” Max said, deciding while she seemed harmless, he would do as the letter instructed. He would keep her ignorant of what he was asked to do when he got to his destination. He watched her face carefully as he spoke, searching for any signs she knew why he was there. Her face broke into a frown, that Max could not help but believe as she pulled her hand free.

“I do not understand, I do not know of any location you would want to go to, and I was not aware anyone knew I was alive. Who was the letter from?”

“It did not say, however it had the seal of the Emperor, and contained information about me that none but me should have known.” Max replied, still perplexed by how anyone knew of the oath he made to Chris the day he died.

“The Emperor, Orion?” She asked, receiving a quick nod from Max. Orion Ironheart the second, son of Liam Ironheart the third, ruler of the Empire. She brushed her hair back behind her slightly protruding ears, making Max think she had elven blood. “He was the one who funded our expedition, an expedition that even the Mystics would not fund.”

“Where was it you were heading? Wherever it was, surely you must have known how dangerous it would be to step foot on Scarvo.”

“We did, but the answers I was seeking were too valuable to ignore. As I said before, I am an expert on the old races, they have fascinated me since I was young, I have studied them extensively back on Eden. One race in particular has always fascinated me beyond the others, a race only known as the Vanishing Voices.

“I'm sorry, I don't think I've heard of them before.” Max cursed his mind, hating himself for not knowing what she was speaking about. His inferior intelligence had always made him feel ashamed. It wasn’t that he didn’t try to learn more, he just always struggled to learn. The Legion trained all members to be as well learned as they could, just encase they needed the information; however, he was just too simple minded for anything but killing. The words in books melded together before him becoming a blur of symbols. During lectures he couldn’t sit still, always wanting to be doing something active instead.

“Oh, I thought they were a common myth? No worries, I always enjoy teaching. In fact, I always thought that I would become a teacher to other Mystics when I earned the rank of Zenith.” She replied with a genuine smile that only added to the shame he felt, he was too stupid to even know what Zenith meant. “You are clearly a man of the west with eyes like that, I assume you have gone to the Iron City and seen its beautiful grandeur with your own eyes?”

Max nodded; having gone to the city hundreds of times, although he had never seen the beauty that she spoke of. The city was finely carved inside the hollowed mountains of the Iron Hills, spreading for miles with colossal buildings rising towards the ceiling above. Being the capital of the Empire, large portions of the city were a cesspit of crime and backstabbing. Max hated everything about it, from the crowds of people, to the smell of filth everywhere you stepped. He still recalled the few times he had been forced to endure the city when Liam had returned to his throne, he hated the city with a passion.

“Well, while that is the capital of the Empire now, before we became an Empire humanity had a capital at a different location within the Iron Hills, that is now known as Fallen Hope. That capital was lost during the rise of the Mountain Slayer, Liam Ironheart the second. After he named himself King, he required a new capital to rule from, revealing a city that would come to be known as the Iron City. While stories claim he summoned it from the mountains themselves, the Mystics have long proved the city predated his birth. Sections of the city even predate the creation of humanity, going back to the First Age of this world.”

“The Mystics have scoured the city, trying to discover who created it, eventually finding traces of a previously undiscovered race. They created the city, however appeared to have abandoned it without ever calling it home. From there we found similar traces in other cities all over Eden. Each time the race left almost no trace, they simply built a city, a fortress or a great work of art, then vanished for another race to claim.” Max was fascinated, the story she told sounded so unbelievable and yet surely if a Mystic believed it, there must be truth to it. While he had of course heard the Tale of the Mountain Slayer, its story being linked closely to the history of his people, he could not recall anything about Liam summoning cities in their version.

“Slowly, I was able to form a timeline of where they were and what they built. While studying a ruined temple, that resided in the Red Sea on Phantom star, I found more traces of this race. The ruin I found appears to be the latest of their creations, now having been turned to rubble by human hands. If I am correct, they made it around the time of the forming of the Empire, when many races abandoned Eden to flee from the Nameless God, leaving us to fight him alone. If I am correct, then the race must have fled through Truestar, across the Red Sea and landed here on Scarvo. Once here I can only guess where they went, though if my studies are correct, it would be an educated guess at least.”

“Perhaps this is where you were meant to guide me, to where these Vanishing Voices went?” Max stated, sure it cannot be a coincidence they had both come to Scarvo under the orders of the same man.

“But why? It is likely the race has long since moved on, leaving the location empty of anything.” She stated, clearly seeing no value in an empty structure, Max however did. It was becoming clearer to him, not only would an empty structure would be priceless to the skal, but it would allow him to do what the letter had asked. Someone was playing him, perhaps the Emperor, yet regardless he didn’t like being used by a faceless man. Max told Anna the situation he was in, telling her of killing Darius and of their plan to flee to the Thousand Daggers.

“Even if this was not why I was sent, the skal need my help, I owe them a home. Do you think you can guide us? After I have repaid the skal, I shall return you home, you have my word as a Man of the West.” He swore, hoping she would not push to know why the note wanted him to find this city.

“I can, however we would have to trick the hounds. I can tell them I had a vision from Nara of great treasure, and she demands we work with you. I will have to promise silver and a good fight, they only act when blood and silver is promised. However, when we get there if there is no blood to spill, or treasure to claim, they will turn on us. So, we had better figure out a way to deal with them before we arrive, just encase we cannot provide such.” She reasoned warily, looking at him like a child not wanting their father to leave.

“I promise you Anna, I will not leave you with these beasts. I will kill them all myself if we cannot think of something else. I am here now, and you are not alone.” He said with more passion than he intended. She smiled softly, her eyes looking at him with more happiness than he thought right. Feeling self-conscious about his outburst, he changed the subject. “What is this pedestal, it looks oddly important?”

Max eyes once more cast over the pedestal, noticing now there was a strange symbol engraved where Anna’s hand had been rested. The symbol was that of a flame, with a small eye peering from within.

“It is a Font; like the ones back home, I have been using it to keep myself strong.” She said as though that explained everything as she studied him, looking for something he did not know. He tried to act like he understood, not wanting his lack of magical knowledge to be shown, after already showing his lack of common knowledge.

His eyes narrowed on hers, almost mirroring how her eyes usually looked. He wondered where her ancestors were from, narrow eyes and slightly bent forward ears were not something Max had seen before, definitely not from Truestar like her title suggested. She faintly reminded him of an elf, making him wonder if perhaps she was a half breed. Although, he doubted she would have survived childhood in Truestar with elven blood, their hatred for the raiders was legendary. Her hair was also alien to him, elves almost always had white, silver, or blond hair. No elf or human had fiery red hair, at least none Max had ever met. The closest to her colour were the Moulders of Acrye, yet even theirs did not have the intensity of red that hers did. Perhaps, he realised, she was a vain magic wielder, changing her appearance to how she wanted, hiding her true self like some in court were rumoured to.

Anna returned to the others, planning to whisper into Fetris’s mate’s ears, knowing they could push him to follow her fake vision. Max headed back to the camp, deep in thought as a mix of happy and rage filled stares followed him. With an inaudible sigh, Max walked over to Chris who stood watching the festivities.

“I really wish I could talk to you; I have no doubt you'd be making some crude joke about Anna right now, telling me all kinds of fucked up things you would want to do to her. Then you would go over to her, acting as charming as a wolf in sheep’s clothing, using your confident smile to get her to agree to your weird shit. Having me both hate you and respect you at the same time, you would call me some shitty nickname and make a joke about how my dick is wasted on me.” Max mourned, remembering back to the easy camaraderie they once held. Chris turned to look at him, staring with no emotion like Max was a stranger to him.

“Is that what you want me to do? I can say those things if you wish?” Chris said in a vacant voice, which only saddened Max more.

“No, what I want you to do is to tell me how to get out of this camp with the girl? They consider her a prophet of the Gods, how could we take her if they decide not to join our convoy, without it turning to violence?” Max asked, wondering if his once far more intelligent friend could come up with something. Instead, Chris just stared, whatever remnants of himself within him unable to figure out complex strategy anymore.

“I am unsure, just fighting our way out would be the best. Me and the others are under your command, we will not fail you.” Chris offered, showing no signs of critical thinking or advanced thoughts, as only the simplest ideas were at hand. Max wondered if perhaps he should give up on his promise he made to Chris. Simply end him now, he was nothing more than a mindless drone anymore anyway. He could only think minor thoughts at this point or remember things that happened before. At that moment, a thought occurred to Max.

“Tell me, what do you know about hound's and the way their packs work?” Immediately, his friend told him everything that he had ever learned about them. Everything from their weaknesses to their strengths and the way their packs operated. They had a single leader; he was the strongest and most powerful warrior amongst them. Below him was his wives, led by the favoured wife known as the Top Mate, who ran the camp while he was off leading brutal wars and shedding blood. She often acted as the spiritual leader, communing with the Gods, taking any sign no matter how small to be a message. Below them were his pups, who came from his loins and made-up his honour guard, fighting alongside him. Chris spoke of them being the children of the God Stagross, the same God that large sways of man followed, only beaten by the Goddess Nara. While faith in the Gods had slowly lessened, those two remained influential, even though they were said to have grown a deep hatred of mankind towards the end of the Third Age.

Chris went on to describe their mating habits, which sounded brutal even to Max. It consisted mostly of the most powerful males taking as many women as they could, breeding them whether they wanted it or not. To the hounds, if a female did not have a swollen belly and her body was fertile, she was free to be used by any hound who could get his hands on her. If she already had a mate then they would give him a single month to do the deed, if her current partner was unable to put a seed in her though, she was fair play.

Considering they followed the Gods closely; Max was not surprised they were so adamant about breeding; the Goddess Nara was very adamant that women were for breeding and men were for fighting. Chris even went on to describe something he had heard about human females that were taken by the hound's, they would only survive one breeding session, usually dying halfway through from there insides being torn apart. At that point, Max stopped him. The image of Anna and a faceless Captain’s daughter being torn to pieces from the inside now entered his mind.

“All of that information is very useful, really makes me wish I knew how to read, perhaps I would have studied more books instead of spending all my time training.” He said dryly, looking to his friend on instinct, waiting for him to make some joke about him being a shit swordsman as both knew it was true. While his swordsmanship was masterful against the common man, amongst the ranks of his brothers he was a novice at best. He was only able to join the Legion through constant hard work training, along with his Masters teachings. Once he had been shown his strength and surprising speed, combined with a heavy Warhammer, made him unstoppable against the fanciest of styles, Max had quickly earned his place in the Legion. Instead of making some joke, Chris just stared blankly once more, flooding sadness into Max. “You mentioned the strongest warrior leads them, how does that work? Can any warrior walk up and challenge him?”

“No, he must make the challenge. Any who disobeys his commands, shows disobedience or he sees as a challenger, he then challenges to prove that he is their better and gain the Packs continued loyalty. He will only do so if he worries the pack is turning on him, if not he will simply send his pups to tear the challenger apart. Should they win and he die, they then take control as they are his better. Once a new hound has taken control, any who think they are stronger can challenge him until the start of the new moon, at which point the cycle starts anew.” Chris explains, staring over the camp like a sentry.

“So, only a hound can lead them? That is frustrating, I could simply challenge him to a fight or piss him off until he does so, then take control of the pack myself.” Max mutters to himself, crossing his arms over his chest with growing frustration.

“Only a hound can lead them, however, should a warrior from outside the pack defeat the leader in single combat, they are indebted to him. They must serve him at hopes of gaining his strength and power, until such a time as one of the hounds can defeat him in single combat.” Chris explains without any prompting, looking to Max for future orders.

“So, all I have to do is to defeat him in one of these challenges, then the pack would be indebted to me?” Max asked, needing confirmation, getting it in the form of a single short nod which leaves him grinning ear to ear. Getting closer to his old friend, he kisses him on the forehead before clutching his face in either hand saying. “I know you don’t have one anymore, but I love your fucking brain.”

Chris merely blinks, looking confused by the emotional reaction, but doing nothing to stop his friend embracing him like he once had. Max did not care though; simply happy his friend had given him a solution if it came to it. For now, he would trust Anna’s plan, after all she knew these beasts better than him.

The night would pass slowly as Max refuse to sleep, using his stored energy to fuel his body. He and his guards kept a watchful eye, making sure the promise of not being attacked was kept. He also saw three female hounds, who were no doubt Fetris’s mates, two with swollen bellies, slowly switching between him and Anna. At first, he seemed enraged by the ideas being whispered in his ears, but after having three of his mates pollute him with promises of treasure and glorious bloodshed, the creature came around. He even went so far as to make a rousing speech; promising rivers of silver and blood, claiming it had been seen if they lead our feeble group to their destination. Minion looked enraged at this, audibly squawking before walking away, giving a vile look to Max.

At the time Max did not know what had been said, only learning when Anna sneaked over and whispered the success in his ears, with a large grin on her face. Max had wanted to track down Minion, however the celebration went from a brooding affair to an almost glorious party, as barrels of Root of the Mountain was unleashed on the camp. Even the large hounds begun to pass out, most after drinking more than their body weight in the thick red liquid. After seeing them so greedily consuming it, Max even tried to fit in, sipping a small tankard of the liquid. He found it surprisingly sour, like apples that had been left to rot, making the air pungent with a sour smell.

Anna practically wrapped herself around his left arm, the two sat near a fire away from the main partying. At first he had stilled, the touch of a woman immediately making him think of The Way. Yet, while in his younger days he would have forced her from him without a moment of hesitation, he was older now and deeply lonely. He hated admitting it, even to himself, but the feeling of a beautiful woman clutching his arm was akin to seeing her naked. While it was against The Way, Max longed for companionship, the fact she was so beautiful making it all the easier. Regardless, The Way warned against sleeping with women, it never spoke of letting one hold him. After he had won the battle against his training, they were joined by three skal and two hounds. Anna explained the hounds to be her loyal bodyguards, although Max saw them more as prison guards.

While these three races all had different languages, the skal and hounds had both served the Midnight Kingdom at one time or another, so roughly understood the old tongue. Although they were at various skill levels, sometimes using Max and Anna to translate, the sour ale made things simpler. Even mistranslations did not matter, every slipup making them giggle like simpletons.

At first Max refused to drink too much, worrying he could be attacked in his drunken state, as The Way made perfectly clear drinking led to weakness. It was only at the insistence of the beautiful redhead, and his latest allies, that Max decided he could get drunk just this once. It only took a few tankards before he was as drunk as the skal had gotten off one. For the first time since leaving Kindled Wake, Max laughed hold heartedly and actually felt safe, ignoring the warning telling him there was always danger at the back of his mind. A tired Rod even joined them, stealing a sip before falling asleep with his head on Anna’s lap. Max thought she would be uncomfortable, but instead seemed oddly at home amongst these strange beasts.

It was hours later when Max revealed, with drunken superiority, that he was a brilliant musician. This led to demands for him to prove such a prominent claim, causing him to order Chris to retrieve the violin, smugly proclaiming he had been tampering with it during the travels. Taking the instrument in one hand, he used the other to grip the bow before standing up, and with a confidence inspired by alcohol, he began playing.

He started playing an ancient song, called the Song of the West, a quick and triumphant tune. It was synonymous with the Children of the West, yet many outsiders sang the song happily. The west of Eden, within the Iron Hills, the race of man was created, connecting the entire race to that land. As he played, he turned his body around and saw many of his new companions looking at him, all with a mix of enjoyment and confusion at this strange sound he was producing. Deciding to improve his performance, he then turned to Chris.

“Sing along, you miserable bastard!” He called over the constant playing, as his friend stared back, almost lifeless, before slowly opening his mouth and beginning to sing to the tune.

“Alone we thought, wrong we were, a world beyond the Hills.” He sung without the thrill, almost as though he was just saying the words. At first this dampened Max's enjoyment, however a beautiful voice cut through the air as he turned to see Anna singing along with a grin on her face. Her singing wasn't flawless, however there was a simplistic beauty to it that Max enjoyed. Especially as her passion enhanced Chris's flawless voice that had no emotion to it.

“The knocking came, the Prince was mad, the end had come for man!” The two sang in harmony, Max swore Chris’s voice gained emotion that he had not heard since his death. Around them, several others began to clap or stomp along as most of the camp seemed to be enjoying it, even though the words likely meant nothing to them.

“Raised us up, he cut them down, he slayed our mountain hall!” Max couldn't help it and began singing along with them, revealing his rough and tuneless voice that sounded the worst by far. Still, no one seemed to care as he was playing beautifully, his companions filling in for his weakness.

“Here we stand, here we die, the Mountain Slayer comes!” The three humans practically scream ‘Mountain Slayer,’ as the title belong to one of the greatest men to have ever lived.

“We will fight, till the end, nothing will hold us down! The West shall rise, the Phoenix rule, nothing shall stop the war! The West shall rise, the world will bend, the Gods shall face our wrath! When time comes, we shall die, for death is beautiful! Here we stand, here we die, let them hear our roar.” With the final word, all three humans roared like lions, before laughing amongst themselves. The last time Max had sung that song, it had been the death chant his army had been singing as they charged into the Midnight City. There was so much history within those words, as it spoke of the past of humanity, from its rise at their lowest point, to the height of its power. Noone, not even the Gods, dared stand before them, as even they knew they had unleashed their creatures of war, nothing could or would stop them.

They began singing the song once more, this time some of the hounds joined in and even a few skal attempted. Again and again, Max played the song as more and more voices joined the strange cacophony of three races, attempting to join their voices into one. The sound, to the drunken ears of those present, sounded oddly beautiful. Max couldn't help but wonder if the creatures present knew what the words they were singing meant, and if they did, would they still be singing so happily?