With the combat ended, the storm subsided. Lightning grew ever-distant while the rain became nothing more than a drizzle.
Kieran sheathed his weapons and offered the lion a hand. Aivor, apparently unable to stand on his own, accepted the offer. Using that opportunity, Kieran channeled what little energy he had left into Mend.
The spell lacked the energy to fully heal the lion. But as his wounds mostly closed, Aivor regained the ability to stand on his own two feet.
The two fighters exchanged looks. Neither seemed sure how to interact after the battle they had shared. Eventually, Kieran simply turned and walked back to his seat. Rah’Na stood where she was, letting him pass and keeping an eye on Aivor.
From training to soul weapon attunement to his first real fight against another Contender, Kieran had learned much in that day. But it all had left him thoroughly drained. Even the flow of energy within him felt almost… obstructed.
Before and during the fight, the energy inside him had flowed like it was pouring into a reservoir, always refilling itself. This allowed him to use his abilities continuously, so long as he was careful. Now, it felt as if the energy was trickling in through a leaky dam.
“Well. Now that all the excitement is finished, it would be traditional to welcome you to Eon’s Peak, Aivor,” Rah’Na growled at the beast-man. “But, frankly, I am not so lenient with those who come to my home with violence in mind.”
“I… I’m sorry…” Aivor muttered, still leaning against his weapon for balance.
Rah’Na scoffed as she turned her back on the warrior. “All that gusto, and look at you now. You’ll need to do better than ‘I’m sorry’ to earn your stay on the peak.”
Kieran watched as the lion, who was roughly the same height as Rah’Na, shrank into himself. All of his confidence seemed to vanish with his defeat.
Rah’Na sighed heavily as she took her usual seat. “Well, don’t just stand there moping like an abandoned kitten. There are chairs inside. Grab one and sit with us.”
Aivor complied without a word, shambling into the building and out of sight.
Rah’Na turned to Kieran and flashed him a fanged grin.
“Well done, Kieran,” she whispered. "I am glad and proud. Not only that you won, but that you let him live.”
“Well, I saw no reason to kill him,” Kieran replied, leaning wearily into his seat.
“There is none. Yet most other Contenders would not have chosen mercy. I speak this from experience.”
Kieran heard a tinge of regret in Rah’Na’s words, but the old wolf hid her feelings quickly and continued. “Now he owes you twice over. Once for defeating him, and once for sparing his life. We can use this. What’s more… it seems that your act of mercy left an impression on more than just your opponent.”
Kieran looked around. For the first time, he noticed that many townsfolk had gathered in the doors and windows of nearby buildings. Most had returned to their daily dealings, but a few remained, whispering and sneaking curious glances in his direction.
“What about Aivor? How can we use him?” Kieran asked vaguely. His mind felt limp and scattered. He was finding it increasingly difficult to stave off his exhaustion and focus.
“For one, he can get you an audience with the War Bringer,” Rah’Na explained, briefly drawing Kieran’s attention back to the present moment. “But that might have to wait. More importantly, you can demand that he help you with the Pale Watchers.”
Kieran mulled things over while they waited for Aivor to return. He couldn’t deny that having another warrior of his own caliber to help fight the Pale Watchers would be invaluable, but he also didn’t particularly like the idea of fighting in a team. It left too many variables open. The mistake of one member could contribute to the downfall of the entire group.
Yet, considering the nature of the Pale Watchers’ dual commander, having another warrior with him could solve most of the issues.
“Perhaps,” he said slowly. “I think, for now, we send him to take out some of the lower leaders, while I take the rest.”
Rah’Na nodded her agreement. She and Kieran both fell silent as Aivor emerged from the building, carrying a chair with one hand. The lion moved slowly as he placed the chair by them and sank into it, resting his glaive against the table.
“Well, I…” Aivor hesitated, his eyes darting from Kieran to Rah’Na and back again. “Well. You defeated me in fair combat and spared my life. By the Rites of War, I am yours to command.”
“And by the Rites of Hospitality, you owe much more than that.” Rah’Na used her words like spears as she shot a glare at Aivor.
The lion seemed to shrink further every moment Rah’Na stared at him. “Yes… what can I do to start repaying my debts?”
Kieran considered the beast-man in front of him for a few moments, letting the silence hang. Loath as he was to admit emotions, he found the way Aivor squirmed under Rah’Na’s gaze… amusing.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Finally, he spoke, concealing his weariness with his usual calm tone.
“Well, Chosen of War, you can start by helping us bring the fight to the monsters, rather than your fellow Contenders.”
He gestured for Rah’Na to bring out the map. As she spread it over the table, Aivor’s eyes lit up.
“So you have been bringing war to them, then.”
“We’ve been trying.” Kieran pointed at the map. “These marked locations are rumored to be home to Pale Watcher leaders. Pick one side of the mountain, and I will take the other.”
Both leaned over the table to study the map. Looking more closely, Kieran saw that Rah’Na had marked nine possible locations, five near the King’s Promenade and four closer to the Queen’s. Two of the locations were in Groveside, while the others seemed to be smaller ruins around larger settlements.
“So they have been taking the keeps. Interesting… even the undead seem to have some tactical prowess,” Aivor commented. “Very well. I will begin with these five.”
The lion pointed to the five locations on the King’s Promenade side.
Of course he would choose the side with more action. Kieran shrugged internally. Works for me.
Aivor immediately stood up and grabbed his glaive.
“Don’t be so hasty, Aivor,” Rah’Na warned, her words seeming to freeze the warrior in place. “First, you will rest. Fighting in that state is downright foolish.”
Aivor looked himself over, noting his barely closed wounds and the various cuts in his robes. “I… yes, that would be for the best. I don’t suppose a seamster has made it to the settlement yet?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Kieran sighed with exasperation. His own robes needed stitching, badly, yet he was stuck with what he had. Perhaps he could ask Darrick to craft some tailoring tools. Then he could do the stitching himself.
“So, you know that this settlement is a safe haven, yet you brought War with you regardless?” Rah’Na growled.
“I… Uh…” Aivor stammered, but he was cut off by a dismissive wave from Rah’Na.
“Never mind. You will make it up to us eventually.” She turned to Kieran. “Can you heal the rest of his wounds?”
Kieran looked within himself. His stream of energy was slowly regaining its strength, but the flow still felt stunted. “Not yet. Come morning, I should be able to.”
“Good. When you are healed, Aivor, I will take you to Eon’s Vault,” Rah’Na announced, gesturing for the lion to sit back down. “Once you’ve had your audience with whatever god chooses to speak with you, then you may go on your mission. Tradition dictates every Contender be taken to the Vault the first time they reach the peak, before they leave it. You have disrespected this haven already. You will not disrespect its traditions.”
Aivor sat back down, shoulders slumped in defeat. Uncomfortable silence settled over the three.
Eventually, Kieran sighed and packed up the map. “I need some rest. Don’t go too hard on him, Rah’Na.”
As he stood up to leave, Kieran caught a glance from Aivor that all but screamed ‘Help me!’ He pretended not to notice, smiling internally at the lion’s utter fear of Rah’Na.
When Kieran entered his room, the largest wave of exhaustion yet washed over him. It was as if the sight of his bed robbed him of all ability to stay on his feet.
Practically falling into the bed, he was out like a candle.
—
When Kieran’s eyes fluttered open, he found himself in a very familiar setting. The sweet fragrance of black and purple flowers greeted him while stars and nebulae clarified in his sight.
The bed of flowers, shaped suspiciously like a coffin, felt as comfortable as he remembered. Yet Kieran knew what being here meant, so he pushed himself up with a sigh.
Before him stood the onyx willow tree, its crystalline leaves reflecting fragments of Lyruna. Below it stood the well-known throne.
And on that throne sat Vahr’Khul, ominous as ever in their hooded robe.
“Mercy is a rare virtue, my Contender.” The words covered Kieran’s mind like a cold shower in summer. “Commendable. Each day, you prove again and again that my choice was correct.”
Kieran stretched casually as he stepped closer to Vahr’Khul. “Does it need to be proven? Here I thought you godly types were omniscient.”
“A common misconception. We know what is and has been, but none of us can claim to know the full truth.” Vahr’Khul’s words continued flowing like spring water on a snowcapped peak. “Not even Tyra’Khul.”
“Really? So you don’t know the future of Lyruna?” Kieran prodded.
Laughter like a bucket of cold water crashed into Kieran’s mind. “I know only that it will end, one day.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” Kieran took another step closer, trying to discern any features beneath Vahr’Khul’s hood. He knew it was pointless, but still he tried. “Anyway, why’d you bring me here this time?”
“Yry’Shar the War Bringer, my peer and confidant, is impressed by your victory. Yet they remain unconvinced of your strength.”
As Vahr’Khul’s words echoed through Kieran’s mind, a screen opened in front of him.




Divine Task
Oculus and Bone Laureate
Yry’Shar, my peer and confidant, requests that you prove your worth in warfare. Dismantle one of our foe’s armies. Prove yourself in the eyes of War.
Reward: Accretion (skill)




Kieran dismissed the screen. “So Yry’Shar made a request… through you?”
“War simply requested that you prove yourself. The task given is my own,” Vahr’Khul replied. “A task you were meant to complete anyway, now given more weight.”
For a moment, Kieran was unsure what to think of the situation, but he quickly decided it wasn’t worth considering too much. After all, Vahr’Khul was right. The Oculus and Bone Laureate were his targets anyway, so why not get something else out of it?
“Very well. Anything else, or may I return to my rest?” Kieran asked, shifting his wait from foot to foot impatiently.
“You may rest, my Contender.”
With those words, Vahr’Khul snapped their fingers, sending the world around Kieran into a spiral of stars and darkness.
—
Kieran woke to silence. The tiny strip of light coming through the gap beneath his door was the only proof that his eyes were even open.
“I really should ask Rah’Na if there is a place with windows for me to stay…” he grumbled yet again, pushing himself up to his feet.
While he prepared himself for the day, Kieran noticed that his bracelet was glowing more intensely. The accretion disk-like light within the gem was stronger. Even more interesting, needles of light stood out at several points along the disk, like markers on a compass leading him in different directions.
Curious, Kieran lit a candle and pulled out his map.
After a few moments of investigating, he found that the markers were leading him roughly in the direction of the locations Rah’Na had marked.
The locations where lower leaders of the Pale Watchers lay in wait.
“Well,” Kieran said aloud to the dark, silent room. “That’s useful.”