ARC 6-Winter War-110 (Patreon)
Content
“Oi, are they already leaving?”
“Crazy bastards.”
Our army is the last to wake, Alana deciding our troops should at least have the benefit of a good rest after sacrificing the security of the other armies. By the time our people crawl out of their bedrolls and distribute dry rations for breakfast, the other armies are already preparing to move. While they are still eating, the Devil moves out, fearlessly leading the way into danger.
I imagined that the knights were slowing their usual pace to accommodate the less able members of this journey, the outsiders, but I had no idea how much. Released from the constraints of cooperation, the Northern Devil’s army, comprised solely of northern warriors, blitzes through the snow, rapidly disappearing. I’m not the only one left gaping at the army seemingly sprinting away, wondering how long they can keep up the pace. Considering they are weighed down by numerous supplies and heavy armor, I would assume not long but I also don’t think the Devil would exhaust his men without good reason.
The next to leave is Thomas. The other army comprised solely of northerners. They don’t race away like the others but even their marching speed is significantly faster than our previous pace. It also doesn’t take them long to disappear into the distance.
As breakfast is finished and camp is broken down, Zachariah’s army leaves. In a matter of minutes, we are on our own, the seemingly endless north before us and the looming mountains behind us.
For me, one moment is the same as the next but our soldiers don’t remain so calm. Whispers abound amongst the uneasy hunters and acolytes. The knights grumble in discontent, not impressed with the weak mentality of the outsiders. Not a good way to start our cooperation.
I’m not the only one who notices the tension. Beside me, Alana frowns as she finishes her breakfast of bread, jerky, and hot water mixed with the juice of a bitter fruit they import by the wagon. Supposedly, it eases aches and keeps the mind alert. Tastes horrible, but it’s a staple of the north. Even Alana, with her newly refined palette, drinks it without so much as a grimace. I’ve seen her have a cup every other morning with breakfast while we stayed with her family. That’s how I know it isn’t the cause of her attitude.
“Want me to take care of it?” I don’t know how good I’d be at a rousing speech but I’d try for her.
“No.” As expected, she refuses my help but she does smile. “Let me borrow Geneva and Rolly. You should see to any preparations you need. There won’t be another moment of relaxation like this for a long time.”
“I don’t need any preparations.”
“Sure?”
“I’m always in peak physical condition.”
She gives me a very flattering look, running her eyes over me from head to toe. I perk up to give her a better view. I’m not surprised by her interest. There isn’t much else to look at. Because of my body’s resistance to temperature, I’m the only one walking around in one layer of clothes. Not even my wife can wear so little. Alana isn’t the only one who’s been staring. If I were vain, I’d say I’m the main contributor to our army’s morale, ha!
“I don’t disagree but the campaign is more than a physical trial. It’s a mental one, or so I hear. It’s easy to imagine constantly being on guard and fighting day after day wearing someone down. Not to mention seeing the same sights. Don’t underestimate the north.”
“I’m not. Trust me.”
She sighs. “Alright. Honestly? I want a little distance from you and Kierra while I channel my inner James and rally the troops. The Stars tell me that my authority is a little too closely linked to you both. Which isn’t a badthing but it needs to be clear who’s in command.”
Ah. “Okay. I’ll…do something.”
She bumps me with her shoulder. “Not mad?”
“No? Should I be?”
She shrugs, the motion barely noticeable because of the armor she’s wearing. “I…I get worried that you’ll regret this trip. If the titan on the second day is anything to go by, this is going to be a rough couple of weeks for little to no reward. You’re my bannerwoman. My lackey.” She sighs. “I know there’s no way this army isn’t decimated without you but you’re only going to be remembered as my sword. All the honor goes to me. Not many of the north would accept such a bargain.”
“Not many northerners are fighting for love.”
She scoffs. “Tell that to my brother-in-law. That fool always makes a spectacle of himself, dedicating his largest kill to Yulia when he returns.”
I am definitely going to do the same. As long as he doesn’t have the bigger titan, then it’d just be embarrassing. Can’t believe I’m eager for one of those bastards to show up again.
“You’re thinking something troublesome, aren’t you?”
“You’re imagining it. Here.” I take her cup from her hands. “Go do your thing, commander.”
With a huff, she grabs the helm tucked under her arm and slips it on before jogging off. I open my senses, looking for my wife. Instead, I find sobbing. Muffled cries that I could mistake as hiccups if not for the occasional sniffle.
I should ignore it. Whoever it is, they clearly don’t want to be found or disturbed. Saints, I can imagine the face of whoever it is seeing me after they’ve gone through so much effort to hide their…condition. No one wants to be the one who cracks under pressure. I would know. My childhood never reduced me to tears but more than once, I escaped to dark places without any judging eyes. The saints know I wouldn’t have appreciated anyone intruding, no matter their good intentions.
Remembering the ‘good times’ makes up my mind and I put the crier out of my mind, resuming my search. It brings me a short distance outside the camp. For some unfathomable reason, my wife is standing alone, shin deep in the snow with her face tilted toward the sky. Still as ice. Barely breathing. Her position screams concentration. Makes me hesitant to interrupt her but the decision is taken from me.
“Come closer, Lou.”
Given the invitation, I step up beside her. She doesn’t move. I notice her eyes are closed and her lips are curved in a small smile. “What are you doing?”
“I am communing. The northerners think that this land is dead but there is life in the ground. I am trying to connect with it. It will give me a better understanding of this land and insights into its inhabitants.”
Just when I think I understand the depths of her abilities. “You’re talking to the ground?”
Her smile fades as her brows furrow. “Trying, dedia. It is not one of my best skills.”
Paradise must be about to fall from the heavens. Did I just hear Kierra Atainna admit there is something she isn’t good at? Not a character flaw, like her attraction to trolls or her inability to understand my more passive nature. She’s saying this is a skill that she has attempted and struggled to develop. That’s a first. I didn’t think someone with a pure affinity couldstruggle with magic. “What’s so hard about it?”
She hums in thought. “Normal magic depends on knowledge and logic. Pure affinity magic requires imagination and focus. There is no limit, as long as the caster can put themselves in the right state of mind. And that is my problem.”
Her frown deepens. “This kind of magic requires a state of mind that is hard to achieve for me. An…openness. As a Gardener once told me, I have to move outside of myself and become a simple branch of the Great Spirit’s Tree. To make oneself small to understand the enormity of the world.”
I scoff. Make herself small? No wonder she’s having trouble. “That doesn’t sound like you, no.”
“Mm.” Her eyes snap open and she stretches. “The environment is not helping. While the north is not bereft of life, compared to Dusk, it is a wasteland.” She lets out a cute little huff of annoyance. “Distract me, my love. Is our star ready to begin the hunt?”
“Soon. She’s rousing the troops.”
“And you’re here?”
“She asked me to.”
“Ah. Asserting her dominance.” She claps my shoulder. “Do not despair. You are still in charge in the bedroom.”
“I’m not upset about it. This is what we’re here for. She can boss me around as much as she likes.” As long as everyone remembers what should and should not be done.