Chapter Six

Cain One

Cain never lost; Nate should have known that by now, someone as skilled and brilliant as him would always win. The boys squared off, their faces inches away. Cain smiled, the gesture causing Nate to growl as small beads of sweat formed on his brow. The humid jungle that surrounded them, creaked, and groaned from the winds smashing into the tops of the trees, the sound was almost calming to Cain now, when it had been deafening at first.

“You should back out now Dancer, else the ladies will see a foreigner bleed.” Nate poked, a sly smile playing on his lips as he tightened his grip on his long, sharp, hunting knife in his right hand. Cain grinned back, loving the thrill he felt from the tension that was growing in the air.

“Perhaps you should back down, else I will show everyone here that pompous princes bleed just like real men.” Cain licked his lips, the excitement of beating Nate was making him want to move, but this would require control. Nate smiled back, his breathing slowing as he raised his knife up, the steel glittering from the few rays of light that reached them from beneath the canopy above. Without another word, he brought it down hard.

The blade danced between the fingers of Nates left hand, narrowly missing the exposed flesh below. Once he had stabbed between each finger five times, he then moved to Cain’s left hand, doing the same with a speed that Cain commended. Cain was not afraid, in fact he loved the danger, wondering what it would feel like to lose a finger and if he could even regrow it. The speed increased, doing the same back and forth movements between their hands in a rhythm. With a final stab of the blade, Nate left it imbedded between their hands, before standing up and getting cheers from a few young women and the many men watching.

While Nate was a year his elder and a master hunter, the boy had a lot to learn about knife play. He was fast, yet he watched the knife like the egal on his banner, the fear of being hurt guided him over instinct. With a slow clap, Cain interrupted his competitions celebration.

“Good, very good, for a Prince. I am quite surprised though your father lets you practice with real knives; you are almost a real man.” Cain goaded, receiving a glare from Nate and his own retort.

“Perhaps Dancer, if you spent less time talking about your skill than showing it, you would hit something other than the ground when you hunt?” The comment reminded Cain of how useless he was with bows when he first arrived. He was still very poor with them; however, he had not hit the ground in months. Mostly his improvement was because he was now expected to hunt his own food, forcing him to improve or starve, even though he found the practice mind numbing.

“If you sit your pompous self-down, perhaps I can show you how a real man uses a knife?” Cain challenged as he pulled the knife free, spinning it around effortlessly. Nate returned to his seat, his eyes watching Cains as their hands returned to the centre. He waited for silence, allowing the audience to still as well as the wind. He then closed his eyes, taking long breaths, breathing in and out, in and out. His breathing slowed to a gentle pace as the knife swayed between them in a loose grip. He could feel the rhythm in the wind, it hummed like a drum beat, his fingers swayed to the rhythm, falling into harmony perfectly. Then, he danced.

The blade slammed down as Cain opened his eyes and stared into Nate’s. Cain moved with a speed that was dizzying to watch, not that he needed to. His eyes locked with Nate’s, a grin on his face as he watched Nate look down in horror at the speed. His eyes crossed, making him look away to stop the dizziness. Whenever he looked at Cain, he was terrified to see Cain did not look down once, his speed increasing by the second.

“Tell me, do you fear Death?” Cain asked as he moved faster, struck harder, grinned wider. “You should, I feel her eyes watching you.” With a final blow, the knife was left buried in the centre of the stump, the blade steaming in the humid air. Nate pulled his hand to him, clutching it like he was afraid Cain would steal it.

“You cheating bastard, you said you could only do that with swords!” Nate yelled, launching himself over the stump and tackling Cain to the floor. The two rolled around, both trying to gain dominance and mount the other. Nate was sixteen and far stronger than Cain, yet Cain was far scrappier and trained to win fights against larger opponents.

“Fight, fight, fight!” The crowd cheered, no doubt loving the sight of their Prince beating up the foreigner. At first Cain fought back, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. Then, he let Nate gain control and trap him on the floor, not wanting to embarrass him further. He knew he was Nate’s better, that knowledge gave him little reason to embarrass the boy.

“I take it you won’t be giving me the two vex we agreed on then? That is a shame, I am a very hungry foreigner.” Cain teased, laughing at the angry young man atop him. Nate gave him a punched to the ribs, before standing up and pulling Cain with.

“You will get one, you cheating Western prick.” Nate mocked with a slight smile, making Cain recall when they first met. The older boy never spoke to him, hating that a foreigner walked in the Vanishing Kingdom unmolested. Now, the two had grown close, a kinship forming that Cain had never felt before. Nate and his sister had helped Cain to learn to love the Vanishing Kingdom, even though most people still treated him as the foreigner, he didn’t care, in fact he was used to it. These were the second people to adopt him, he understood this was not his place and they no doubt hated him lurking there, just as much as he hated being there.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Cain said with a low bow, receiving a smack to his head and a shove. Nate retrieved his reward, a freshly killed vex that had been cleaned and turned into four long rectangles of raw meat, neatly wrapped in leaves.

“Call me that again, I will pin you to the floor until you admit you have lost.” Nate warned, having grown tired of the name calling for now. While he had grown to banter with Cain, something he never did with any other, he still had a limit, the brooding and serious young man was never far from the surface.

“Whatever you command Nate, I need to be going anyway, I am meeting with your sis...” Cain stopped, the realisation hitting him in the chest that he was late, always late. “Damn the Gods, I should already be there.”

Cain rushed through the crowd of children and young adults, heading with all speed to the Clan Tree. As he arrived at the main climbing point of the tree, he fastened the sack tight to his back and made sure none of his clothing was loose. With a sigh, he jumped towards the vines and begun climbing. He hated climbing the Clan Tree, it was a pointless waste of time. They should have made a ladder or even a staircase to the Eyrie above, especially as they had lived there for hundreds of years. The inhabitants of the Vanishing Kingdoms were called the Highwings, although many outsiders called them Tree Men. Even before humanity left the west, the Highwing family had lived in forests since man’s creation. After so many generations spent in the trees, they had an almost spider like ability to climb, aided by small almost impossible to see hairs on their hands that dug into the bark.

Cain was a strong fifteen-year-old, far stronger than most his age, yet even he struggled with the climb. Not just because it was exhausting but because it was so dull. Even after almost half an hour of climbing, he had only just reached the lowest branches. The tree was strange, unlike the red ones that surrounded it, but Cain had never asked why, trees were boring, even if this one was taller than the others around it. Instead of continuing on the vines like the Tree Men did, Cain begun using the branches. In many ways it was slower, requiring him to make large leaps over open air to the next branches above him, sometimes even having to go to a lower branch so he could go up somewhere else. Yet, the thrill of jumping over the open air was exciting, making it the better option.

When he finally reached the Eyrie, that laid barely halfway up the tree, he smiled at the small white-haired girl who waited for him on the end of a long branch. She was small, even for a nine-year-old. Cain was not an expert on what was considered attractive by most, having learned his own type was abnormal, yet from what Cain had heard, it was clear Juliet was already a beacon for men. She had the violet eyes of her people, yet hers were oddly darker than most. She had a nose that was too small for her face, reminding Cain of a rabbit. Everything about her was small and fragile, yet she was a lot like Cain, loving the thrill of danger. She sat with a small golden egal feeding from her hand, the bird glistering in the sunlight.

“Hello Dancer, father says it is rude to keep a Lady waiting.” She mocked as she gently stroked the eagles head like it was a puppy. He walked over to her, making sure to mind his step as the fall would be long and give him time to feel shame before the end. He could not even see the ground as it was hidden behind a canopy of branches.

“That is true, however as you and your brother keep reminding me, you are both not ladies.” He teased, taking his seat beside her as she turned and gave him a grin.

“I am technically a Lady, father says so. Why are you late this time?” Juliet demands, her dimples showing as she leaned her head on his arm.

“Well, my ‘Lady’, I was unsuccessful at my hunting endeavours this day. On my return, me and your adoring sibling got into a debate, I was required to use some unorthodox methods to obtain items of value to me and defend my honour.” Cain explained as he started searching his sack for his winnings.

“Stop talking funny, you know I don’t understand.” She always giggled at what Cain called, ‘noble talk’.

“It means I had to beat him at brave man’s knife because I failed to get us something to eat, and because he said I was a shit hunter.” Cain explained as he brought out the vex meat wrapped in leaves. As it unfolded, Juliet eyed it greedily. The raw meat was covered in small ground up spices and had small fruits buried within it. Without asking, Juliet grabbed the biggest chunk and begun tearing the raw meat into pieces, before eating hungrily with her dirty fingers. Cain followed suit, enjoying the oddly tasty meal but wishing he could cook it. When he had been told the Kingdoms ban on fire, he had heard his stomach crying with growls of loss. “Or using the ancient language of my people, I had to fuck him up to get fed.”

“Your silly.” Juliet giggled with her mouth full. Cain smiled, loving that even after all this time he could make his small friend smile. She was the first person to show him kindness in the Vanishing Kingdom, the first one who seemed to like him being there. More would join her over time, yet she was the first and his favourite. “Why are you always fighting people, doesn’t it hurt?”

“Nah, fighting and getting hurt is fun. Fighting is what men are made for; I love it. Regardless, I am often not given a choice, fighting is and inevitability for me.” Cain explained with a shrug, pulling out a small water skin filled with fermented fruit. It was the only alcohol the Kingdom made and tasted divine, yet so weak it never made him feel drunk.

“Nate says you talk too much and think your better than everyone else, that is why you always get into fights.” She said, not realising it was an insult. Cain smiled; he would have to get Nate for calling him an arrogant loudmouth.

“That is because your brother lacks the finer understanding of being a man. He would rather brood on the inside then call someone being a dick, a dick.” Cain explained, having seen it many times. Nate would one day rule this realm, yet he was often meek, shying from human contact especially when it involved yelling. He spent much of his days hunting with a determination bordering on obsession, collecting trophies that he mounted in his room. Cain had tried to push the boy towards his eventual role, yet he was prone to distraction, especially when he was in one of his obsessive moods.

“I heard him tell Gwen that he thinks ‘pain gets you off’, although I am not sure what that means.” She revealed, sounding puzzled.

“Umm, he means that he thinks pain makes me happy, like you are when you are climbing trees.” Cain stumbled out, hoping to avoid talking about those subjects with the pure Juliet. “He is not completely wrong; pain is a thrill to me; it always has been. My mentor taught me to see the positives of pain. Pain reminds me I am human, that I am here in this moment. It pushes me to not make the same mistake and punishes me for needing to be taught that lesson in the first place. While people like Nate avoid pain, I seek it out with a smile.”

“That is an interesting philosophy for a warrior to have, I have never heard someone glorify pain.” Came a rough voice from behind them. Turning, Cain saw High Caller Hardro Highwing, King of the Vanishing Kingdoms and Lord of the Unclean. He was slim with a strong body; the only physique Cain had seen since arriving, as these lands were not for the weak. He had the violet eyes of his people and pure white hair, making him appear sinister to Cain when they had first met. His skin was worn, not appearing as a King but as a hard-working commoner.

“I am a man of many mysteries Hardro, filled with wisdom and brilliance.” Cain said with a grin, one the relaxed King shared.

“Here I thought you were just a young man with far too much confidence for his own good, as well as disregard for the tasks he is given?” Hardro said with a raised eye at the vex meat.

“I take my tasks very seriously. You said this task required me to bring you cleaned vex meat, you never said I had to be the one to kill it.” Cain countered; glad he had technically completed the task even if he did so dishonestly.

“I often find, how someone completes their duty, shows who they are as a person. I am going to choose to consider this an example of your brilliant mind and not your disregard for orders.” He said with a proud smile, one Cain could not help but feel sad about. To cover his emotions, he offered some of the vex to Hardro, who ate it greedily.  When he spoke again, his voice carried an edge that ruined Cain’s mood. “Your last task will be tomorrow morning. No bending the rules this time, I will be watching you closely.”

“Can I watch too father; I promise to not get in the way?” Juliet begged, making her father reach down and ruffle her hair. She did not see the meaningful stare the two shared, a stare designed to pressure Cain. He ever so slightly shook his head, his decision decided. Juliet’s egal flew away as Hardro turned from Cain, picked up his little girl and hanged her upside down over the open air.

“Of course you are coming Monkey, I need your eyes to spot when this one tries to cheat.” He lied as she giggled and squirmed in his grip. Cain watched with a heavy heart, already closing himself off from these people he had come to care for. A true warrior did not let family halt their duty, especially a false family. After playing with his daughter, Hardro sent her to prepare for the night’s celebration.

“See you soon Dancer.” She sung in her sweet voice, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He watched her climb down the tree, wondering if she would even remember his real name when he was gone, let alone the name she gave him. Hardro and Cain’s smiles melted away, the older man sighing deeply before taking the place Juliet had been sitting.

“So, you have chosen to not tell her then?” Hardro asked, the answer evident.

“I didn’t have the heart.” Cain admitted, hoping he would understand.

“What of Nate, does he know?” His eyes searched the horizon, always on guard for his enemies, just like the great eagles on his banner.

“No, I fail to see how arguing about what has already been decided will help.” Cain explained, his voice hardening, preparing himself to forget those he had come to know.

“The guilt will haunt you until your dying day, you know that right?” He pushed, although Cain did not understand why he cared so much.

“I doubt it, guilt has never played a part in my tale. Should I be struck by such, I will simply wear it as my shroud.” Cain pushed, not willing to change his mind.

“Do you wish to leave now or after tonight’s festivities?” Hardro asked, his gaze on the waning glow of the sun.

“After, if I leave before it will be noticed, better to go without a trace.” Cain wondered who he was forcing to wait for him, hoping it was Sky.

“What if things were different? What if you remained here as one of us?” He inquired, Cain almost believing him but knowing it was just some test.

“We both know that is not me, no more than leaving is you. My heart calls for more than any one Kingdom can offer, it calls for action, a call that I doubt I will ever quiet.” Cain stated, a lump forming in his chest that he ignored, real men did what was needed, remaining here was not necessary. The two sat in silence, Cain memorising the image forever, as the forest slowly was blanketed in darkness.

Drums filled the air, their banging coming from hidden coves within the trees. Their tune was gentle, more tapping than pounding. On their own the sound was horrid, yet when they merged, becoming hypnotic. Naked flesh swayed in the scattered rays of moonlight that breached to the forest floor. Those who did not dance naked in the pale moonlight, sat beneath the Clan Tree, their bodies backlit by a pale green glow coming from the tree itself.

Representatives from clans from all throughout the dense jungle of the Vanishing Kingdoms had come, each there to pay homage to clan Caller, rulers of the Highwing’s. None had banners or markings, the Highwing seeing such tokens as divisive, yet Cain had been able to sort many into groups. Clan Howler were easy, their people always naked and in search of moonlight, loving the feeling of their skin against the pale light. Deathwalker’s kept their distance, lurking in the darkness around the clearing as a means of self-exile. Their faces covered in self-inflicted scars, related to strange magics and lost rituals related to death. The Consum were another obvious clan, their eyes always that of predator’s mid hunt with their own self-inflicted wounds. While Cain had been forced to seek information on most groups himself, Hardro himself had taken him aside to warn him of the Consum and their love of blood, consumption of human flesh and rituals of living sacrifice.

So many groups, all with strange beliefs, many Cain had never seen before, yet all came when called. Those present that night were mostly the young nearing their final tests, all there to swear oaths of blood to Hardro. That was why he had to leave; Cain had already sworn himself to another. So, Cain sat brooding atop a branch in self-exile, his gaze watching the festivities below.

Cain felt a pang of annoyance as he looked at the beautiful creatures swaying their naked bodies to the drums. He had been working to fuck one of each clan, a self-imposed challenge he created to ease boredom. He had been surprised how accommodating they had been, most climbing atop him at the mere hint of his lust, some going as far as to claim his foreign magical blood would make their children strong. Cain had been to all six Kingdoms on one task or another, yet even the child obsessed Nara did not spread their legs so easily, especially to a foreigner. His hunt had been aided by the Highwings strange unwritten rules on clothing, one Cain enjoyed deeply, as they often were clothed only while working, yet happy to walk naked when free.

Juliet sat with the other children, all painting their faces to appear as monsters before chasing each other down. Sometimes she would look up and wave, making Cain wave back with a false smile, certain she would be better off soon when he was not there to corrupt her. Nate was alongside his father, the two accepting strange items as tributes, such as dolls made of flesh, balls of queer stones that glowed or pelts of creatures Cain had not seen before. Nate seemed uninterested, having only seemed to grow excited when the pelts were offered, where he begun asking questions that had Hardro narrowing his eyes at the breach of tradition.

Once the offerings were given, the clans brought forth ten of their mightiest warriors, each wearing a mask of sewn together skins as their only clothing, making Cain wince at all the genitals he saw swaying. Hardro had warned Cain of this, they were the candidates for the Wilds, the Vanishing Kingdoms greatest warriors. Every year, each clan offered ten of their mightiest to join the Wilds, yet most would be sent away with little more than a glance. Cain had never seen a Wild warrior, yet had heard they transformed into freakish beasts that fought with teeth and claw instead of steel. As Cain watched Hardro patrol the offerings, he scoffed, he could take them with his eyes closed, they did not look that tough.

He turned back to the dancing, enjoying the naked women celebrating more than the naked men being scrutinized. When finally, the naked bodies and their swaying had left him dizzy, he climbed down the tree, landing with a thump next to an unsuspecting Deathwalker. She jumped back, tripping on a root to the floor as she did.

“Sorry miss, let me help you.” He said, kicking himself for forgetting what he had been taught by Nate, ‘always look before jumping down from a tree.’ He grabbed her hand, her touch feeling off, as if she excreted a chill even though her skin was warm. Her scarred red eyes were wary as he helped her up, both appearing clawed at, the wounds filled with a purple and black ink that wriggled like worms. “Again, I beg your forgiveness miss, I am not from here and forget-”

“Why ride lightning?” She interrupted; her red eyes glowing as she lifted her right hand to rest upon his cheek. He saw her fingers were crooked, as though broken and reset wrong, with long dirty nails with broken ends.

“Pardon miss?” He asked, her hand coming to rest on his skin, a cold aura freezing his jaw as she gently caressed him. He did not know why but he felt a sudden rush of hatred, as if something about her disgusted him.

“It is not your fault, you tried your hardest, yet it was doomed from the start.” She insisted, leaning forward to kiss him on the lips until he shoved her back.

“What are you talking about?” He demanded, the girl’s coldness lingering like a wound. She turned her head in a grin, her teeth cracked and missing, large wounds remaining as though they had been torn out by force.

“I have seen you before in nightmares, drowning in blood as the son who never died. I saw you bathed in fire, slaying Gods and mortals alike. Yet now I look upon you, I see more than that, I see you riding atop Storms. For all your evil I could forgive, yet not your curse on me. You took my eyes and drowned my heart, for that I name you, my killer.” She stated, her grin never wavering. She moved to touch him again, forcing him to shove her back, only for her to try once more. Cain had had enough, his hands clenching into fists as he prepared to punch this crazed monster, before a woman ran to block him.

“Please sir, forgiveness!” She screamed, her hands covering her face as if scared he would attack her. The new girl was also scarred, yet she was only lightly marked. Her eyes were the violet of the Highwings, strands of white hair appearing from within her hood.

“What is wrong with the bitch, she is crazed!” He shouted, pissed to be harassed by this witch and hating her from the depths of his heart.

“She means no harm sir, the taint is taking her mind, causes her to see and hear things that are not there. She hears voices that tell her ramblings, take no mind I beg you.” The girl pleaded, her eyes like Juliet’s, causing him to deflate. With a grunt, he turned and walked away, hearing the crazed girl scream behind him.

“You will wake the Storm, I see it clearly now, Lord of Storms indeed!” Her voice turned into a gargle, making Cain turn to see scarred women rushing to her side while she began to choke herself. Black and purple slime poured from her mouth, burning the forest floor as it landed. Her breath became a wheezing as she was dragged into the forest, one hand reaching towards Cain as though pleading for his help, yet she was mistaken, he cared little for her life. Disgusted, he turned, heading back towards the party that seemingly ignored the Deathwalkers and their strange ways.

Hardro and Cain walked silently, having sneaked away as the party had neared its end, under the guise of going to sleep. Nate had promised to wake Cain tomorrow, the boy knowing he was a heavy sleeper, yet Cain had said nothing, just laughed and shoved him playfully. Juliet had been worse, kissing his cheek and wishing him goodnight, asking him to take her on an adventure when he was finished with his task. The only way to get the girl to leave was to promise, even though he knew it would not be kept. In an effort to move his mind from the past and onto the future, Cain asked a question he knew the Cripple would need information on.

“You see that girl who went crazy? What was that about?” He asked, disliking acting as a spy, yet doing it for the mission.

“I am surprised you do not know. That there was taint, the Legions greatest hatred. The Legion search for it with vigour, eager to stem it before it can grow, they have put entire cities to the torch just to eradicate it.” He explained, causing Cain to raise an eye.

“Why? What is it?”

“That is a hard question, marred with varying opinions and beliefs. The Gods say it is sin in physical form, revealing the evil of one’s soul for all to see. The Mystics say it is a byproduct of certain magics, the cost of delving into arts that even they dislike tampering with. The Legion say it is the remains of fallen Gods, pieces of their shattered bodies that plague the world even now. Whatever it is, one thing is clear, all want it eradicated to the last spec. It is a plague, one that worms its way into your mind and grows like a weed if you let it.” He explained, showing an understanding that Cain did not expect.

“Am I infected now?” Stopping his strides, he stared in horror that he would become like her.

“No, nor is anyone at the celebration, that girl is a Deathwalker, they break the rules. As is often the case with magic, there is always an exception.” He explained, letting Cain breathe again and continue his walking.

“That is a relief, why was she even there? If this is some plague, then surely we should destroy her?” Cain asked, happy to do the deed himself.

“No, the girl and her people are invaluable. While they will all succumb to the taint eventually, before they do, they are without question its greatest adversary. They can seek it out, smell it within the very air like a wolf to blood. They are immune from spreading taint, yet able to pull it from others into themselves. Even the Legion begrudgingly spare them, having made agreements with the clan. They give many of their children to the Empire, in return they are spared from the Legions culling, as well as gifted access to secrets they crave more than their own young.” He explained, his voice a whisper, as if they spoke forbidden words.

“Sounds like what the Legion do to their own young.” Cain stated with a sour taste in his mouth, knowing the feeling of being given away without a care. Shaking his head, he changed the subject. “You mentioned all those theories on taint, what do you think it is? Clearly you know much about it, you must have an opinion?” Hardro’s lips tighten.

“In truth, I think some things in this world are beyond our understanding, perhaps that is how they should remain.” A clear hesitation was in his voice, almost as though the subject scared him.

“If you dislike it, then why keep the Deathwalkers when they not only seek it out, but also attract others who do? As Caller you could have them killed and be rid of the issue?” Cain questioned, hating the hypocrisy of guarding what he hated.

“The same reason I do not kill the man eaters of clan Consum. While their actions are abhorrent to me, they follow our rules and aid our battle against the Vanishing Kingdoms enemies. I would rather keep the monsters as allies than face them on the battlefield.”

“There is also a matter of past oaths. Most of these clans are a mix of bloods from all seven families, yet clan Caller is, and always has been, led by the Highwings. We swore an oath during the War of Madness, in return for the aid of the cursed clans that lived in the Iron Hills, we would always offer sanctuary to their descendants. That oath is mine, for I swear it every time I call them here, an oath that has spanned over a thousand years.” He insisted, his voice hard and prideful. While Cain did not agree, he reluctantly had to respect Hardro’s devotion to his oath, the man truly was a beacon for respect. No wonder the clans loved him, Cain thought, part of him wishing he had been a Highwing.

It took hours of walking before arriving at their destination, a small stone platform, made from marble with a red stain covering much of the surface. Seated atop the platform was a woman, her legs crossed, and eyes closed as she hummed to herself. Cain knew her as Skylar but often just called her Sky, much to her annoyance.

“Oh Sky, how I have missed you.” Cain said with a groan, walking towards a large bag resting next to her and taking it. Inside was his possessions, what few he had. He changed out of the worn rags he had fashioned himself, into his travel garments. Then equipping his long and short sword to his sides, both forged in the Master Forge of the Iron Kingdom.

“I see you are still struggling with manners?” Sky scolded with a heavy sigh, opening her eyes to show crystal blue orbs that resembled a clear sea. By the Gods, he hated those eyes.

“Sorry, the Cripple did not say manors were important, he would rather me be actually useful and leave talking like a plotting snake to you.” Cain replied with spite to Sky, always looking for a chance to upset her. She turned from him with a glare, looking to Hardro who seemed uneasy.

“Despite his childish behaviour, I take it we have an agreement?” She asked, receiving a long silence and glare.

“I have decided to keep faith, as such, I will hand over my token as requested. However, I cannot promise my children or the other clans shall uphold this accord, least of all if you tally too long.” Hardro stated with a levelled voice, his hesitation clear. Reaching behind him, he pulled out a small square piece of cloth, no larger than a foot. Cain saw it was old, looking as though time had eaten holes in the cloth, damaging the strange image that once was there. With great reluctance, he placed it on the marble before Sky, running his hands over the fabric gently like it was a babe in arm.

“I shall repeat your words to the Son’s, they appreciate your loyalty, your continued support means more than you know.” Sky spoke with all the charm of a viper.

“What of what I was promised? We lose ground every year to the forest and the bitter beast that lurk within. What aid are we being given to stem the bleeding?” Hardro demanded, surprising Cain who had not heard anything of this. He knew they fought battles with monsters in the depths of the forest, yet he had not been told they were losing.

“Weapons, food, and medicine, although we are unsure how long the medicine will be provided. Miles will send them under a cover, the eyes of the Emperor are watching us closely, he has deemed the Son’s have grown too powerful under his father’s rule. Look for a convoy flying the banner of the Three Kings Trading Guild, the centre crown will be inverted. They will travel from Crossroads along the Bitter Road, their destination the Bloody Crossing. If you have any issues, you are to deal with the caravan’s leader from now on, do not reach out to us with eagles anymore. The Iron City is filled with snakes, all of which are looking for conflict, especially to those seen to be aiding the cause.” Sky warned, seemingly making Hardro happy but not Cain.

“Fuck that, I should stay and deal with the threat. Even better, the Emperor can send in his army, as is his duty.” Cain insisted, pissed that supplies was all they were being given.

“Don’t be a naive child. You have work to do elsewhere, and this is not the Emperor’s duty to interfere in this conflict, nor would Hardro want him to.” Sky reprimanded, shaking her head in disapproval.

“She is right son; you have other duties and the last thing I want is the Emperor’s aid.” He agreed, annoying Cain more.

“Your Kingdom is part of his realm; he should help you.” He insisted, not willing to surrender his outrage, least of all to Sky.

“Use your brain boy, stop thinking like a warrior for five seconds.” She sighed, her tone making him growl. “This war is Hardro’s duty, not the Emperors, as was agreed by Hardro’s ancestor during the Great Divide. Each Kingdom agreed to deal with their own inner conflicts, in return for greater control over their lands and its laws. If the Emperor intervenes here, then every Kingdom will want the same aid or cry mistreatment. The Empire would be forced to front the cost and loss of life, while already in great debt because of the Immortal war. It would also show Hardro to be weak and unable to protect his own lands, at a time when the other Kingdoms are already eyeing each other’s territory.”

“That is fucked up, all that nonsense stopping a loyal Kingdom getting aid. Why should Hardro even remain loyal if he is forced to work with the Son’s to get any help?” Cain demanded, gaining a glare from Sky.

“Because, unlike you he is not short sighted.” Sky answered with a growl, her eyes turning from him only when he did not reply. “Again Hardro, the Son’s thank you, may our old alliance continue to remain strong.”

“I do not do this for them.” He stated, turning from Skylar and approaching Cain, sadness filling his face. Placing his arm on Cains shoulder, Hardro squeezed tightly as he stared into his eyes. Words passed between them, words of love and respect, words that one man does not say to another out loud. After staring for a few seconds, he said the final words Cain would ever hear from him. “Know you will always have a home here, good hunting, my son.”

The journey out of the Vanishing Kingdoms was silent, Cain and Sky both not wanting to duel with words, as had become their norm. Only when they reached the Great Northern Road, did Sky turn to Cain and speak.

“You did good, you are two months ahead of schedule, Trickster is pleased.” She said with a warm smile that Cain did not trust.

“If he is so pleased, where is he?” Cain questioned, both knowing he had been promised an audience after this mission. Sky deflated slightly, her tone changing to her diplomatic voice that Cain despised.

“He is busy dealing with a disagreement between the Emperor and his brother. He has a new task for you however, a simple kill, once you have completed this task he will seek you out.” She said with all the smiles, charm, and smooth tones she used to manipulate others.

“I was promised and audience after this mission, not the next. I was also promised a real mission, not this conniving cutthroat bullshit, that is your job.” Cain complained as he felt the urge to strike her. Her eyes narrowed, her own rage building as only he could cause.

“I was made promises also, he said I would be done with you, he said I would be needed elsewhere, yet here I am. Stop being a child and do your duty, men do not cry when things do not go their way.” She ordered; her diplomatic voice gone. Cain walked closer, his eyes already above hers even though he was still growing.

“Tell the Cripple, this is the last mission I will do until he shows himself. I am not a slave he can order around; I remain because he made me promises, promises that he has failed to keep.” Cain warned, his patience growing thin.

“Kill her and you will get your audience!” Sky demanded, offering a rolled-up piece of cloth that Cain snatched harshly. He walked from Sky without a word, reading the details on his target with little interest, simply hoping whoever it was died quickly.