Kasar sat hunched over his food, tears pooling in his eyes. It’d been a year since his parents passed and he was on the run alone. A year since he started this bloody life. Yet he never stopped to grieve. Not until the city stood free did he one day have the sorrow roll in like a tidal wave.

  It crippled him.

  The grief, and the guilt of its delay. He shook and his lips quivered as he recalled how his mother and father sang together around the fire in the middle of the woods. He remembered how they were so happy even if they were on the road, on the run, and homeless vagabonds shunned by bigger cities, but reluctantly accepted by villages and waystations.

  He never stopped in the last year and truly processed their absence.

  Vorza strode in and Kasar wiped his tears.

  “Lad?” he asked. “Galdeen wishes to speak with you.”

  “Right,” said Kasar. He had to keep moving. There was work to be done.

  Vorza clearly saw him. He definitely heard him. He didn’t say anything at first, but after a pause, patted Kasar on the shoulder.

  ***

  Galdeen represented the gluttonous revelry of privilege. To have built an empire of luxuries on the spoils of the downtrodden like him, was to earn a painful death at the hand of those he scorned. However, Kasar needed him alive. He needed his knowledge of the city states in the desert, and the influence he brough to their little rebellion.

  As long as he had his five course meals, he didn’t complain. That meant Kasar had the displeasure of hearing all of his complaints everyday, and only Beregar’s looming presence quieted the noble.

  “Grim,” he spat as Kasar entered the balcony where he sat. In the pits where men and women fought for survival, now lay a training yard Vorza set up to get their militia ready for war. In some ways they still fought today for survival. “Finally!”

  “What is it?” asked Kasar with more sharpness than he desired.

  Galdeen gulped.

  “If this is about food, I’m throwing you off this ledge,” said Kasar, though he didn’t think he could lift the man himself. Beregar likely could even with a hook for a hand. Galdeen wouldn’t appreciate that.

  He stammered and took a sip of his wine. “No!” he cried.”No, no, no. I have summoned you to tell you that the scouts reported back with some vital news.”

  Vorza and Kasar must have had faces of the grim reaper himself because Galdeen flinched back.

  “Why didn’t the scouts report to us?” asked Kasar.

  “Well, they’re so used to-”

  “I don’t care what they’re used to. You’re too used to the control, Galdeen. You’re an advisor, not a leader.”

  “Of course, Grim, of course. I will ensure they report to you next time. Brave and heroic leader as you are.”

  Kasar waved his hands. Galdeen was dangerous even if he didn’t show it. His mastery over Blue put everyone at risk except for Kasar and Vorza who’d trained blind and thus honed their sensitivity to the Chromas. Even still, his death curse that triggered upon Akonai's demise almost killed them all.

  Galdeen had knowledge that the gladiators didn’t. The people of the city now called for his execution after they learned of how he caused rampant violence in the streets using pulses of Blue Magic to flare emotions like wildfire.

  Some still missed the old ownership, but Beregar’s brutal enforcement in the streets with his own task force put an end to that. It pained Kasar to use such deadly forces as Beregar, but those rioters left him no choice.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Where are the scouts?” asked Kasar.

  “Resting and recovering,” said Galdeen.

  “Recovering?” asked Vorza. “What happened?”

  “Ask them, Vorza,” said Galdeen with a shrug.

  “We’re asking you,” said Kasar. “Then we’ll ask them.”

  Galdeen shrugged again and took a bite of his pheasant.

  Kasar wanted to shove it down his throat.

  “They spotted an army forming. They ran into some trouble while observing.”

  “So they know we know,” said Vorza, rubbing his chin.

  “Thank you, Galdeen,” said Kasar, turning to leave.

  ***

  “We left no one alive, sir,” said the scout leader. Her name was Saalia and she was the quickest of them all. Her parents had been guides, so when the freed city needed someone to help them scout, she volunteered. The god-king Akonai had executed her family for a misunderstanding. A petty theft where a group were found harboring the thieves. Only they did not know they were thieves. Saalia boldly claimed they would have still harbored the children even if they knew.

  Kasar still felt strange being called “sir” by a woman over years his senior. “Thank you, Saalia,” feigning the symbol of leadership the way Vorza had taught him to. “So they don’t know we know.”

  Vorza smiled. “A useful advantage.”

  “We can prepare,” said Kasar.

  “Hmm, yes. Or we strike.”

  “Strike?” asked Kasar and Saalia in unison.

  “Yes,” said Vorza.

  “But we have fewer soldiers. Fewer resources,” said Kasar. “Based on Saalia’s reports we don’t stand a chance.”

  “We have better soldiers,” said Vorza. “Men and women who see a future where they don’ have to live in fear. You gave them that so they all will fight like Devils now, lad.”

  “But the numbers,” said Saalia.

  Vorza held up his hand. “I want to hold a council. Get all our friends in one room, and I will teach you all the lessons of war.”

  ***

  Around a table in the barracks where once they trained as slaves, now stood the finest warriors in the desert. Beregar Blackhook as they started calling him now. Sipha Windrunner. Vorza the Old Devil. And Grimblade himself, the victorious rebel leader. They also had Saalia, the scout captain.

  There were others who in the last two months showed their credibility and loyalty.

  All of them, free. All of them, under siege.

  Vorza laid out a map of the region and placed a game piece over their city. He placed several more on a nearby city called Morod from where Morod the God-king marched his armies to shackle them all and teach the other city-states the consequences of revolting.

  “Morod has more than us,” said Vorza. “He also doesn’t know what killed his scouts.”

  Saalia nodded. “We disposed of the bodies. They’d have to scour the desert to find out what happened and the more realistic assumption would be monsters or marauders.”

  “That’s great!” said Sipha, twirling a dagger in her hand. “But we’re still doomed.”

  “No,” said Vorza. “They don’t know what we know. And we know their numbers, their path, and their intent. Why let them take a path they know they will win. A siege puts us n a vulnerable spot. They know they can win it. That is why they march. Why let them carry on with a plan that they know the outcome of.”

  Vorza took the piece on the board representing Akonai’s numbers and replaced it with two smaller pieces. He slid one of the smaller ones near the cluster of Morod’s pieces.

  “We skirmish and we whittle them down,” said Vorza. “So when they reach us, maybe it’s not so sure they will win.”

  “And they don’t know what we know,” repeated Kasar with a grin.

  “When an enemy is set on a route, disrupt it when you can,” said Vorza.

  “Wonderful,” said Sipha. “And what if we fail? What if they catch us? Kill us? Or worse.”

  “As you mentioned,” said Vorza. “We’re already doomed.”

  Sipha shrugged. “I suppose it’d be fun to leave the city for once.”

  “I’ll go on this mission,” said Kasar.

  Vorza gave Kasar a nod. “Take the fastest strikers with you. Saalia, you should go as well. Beregar should stay here with me. Blackhook here and I have some preparations to make.”

  Beregar cracked his neck. “We’ll have our people whipped into shape for war before you return.”

  The mood changed in the barracks. Before they could have just abandoned the city. Now they wished for the other city-states to drink in the elixir of freedom. If only to make the god-kings hurt. They were building something great and were reading to fight for it. Ready to die for it.