"But that’s probably not a good idea. And you’ve got work to do."
"It’s very late. You should be going back to your n."
"And we need to go and have our dinners."
The two were far too keen to go for Oliver’s liking. He felt a strong mont of panic. The lightness in his heart that he’d felt there was not sothing that he had experienced for the longest ti. Nor was it even sothing that he realized he needed.
"But wait!" Oliver said.
The two turned again to look at him.
"Hm?"
"Hm?"
"What do I do?" He desperately blurted out. "You seem to know far more than . You knew Dominus too – and you must have known Arthur as well."
"Of course we knew Arthur."
"We loved Arthur. He ca to visit here too. Just like the First King."
"The First King ca here?"
"Of course he did. You never heard about the First King crossing the River Tigris? That’s this river!"
"...The River Tigris..." Oliver said. Vaguely did he rember. The First King had followed the coastline down from the Black Mountains, and co in through modern day Erson lands, searching for sowhere to settle. It was at the River Tigris, as he crossed it, that he had declared to the people that followed him that they had found it. "This land, this water – this is where we shall live. This land where the storms swirl in the sky, and rain finds you half the days of the year. This shall be ours! A land of green, and of grey! The Stormfront!" He’d said, in a magnificent speech.
"It flows all the way from here through towards the Capital," one of the Gnos said, rather proudly.
"Following it is how the First King found the Capital in the first place," the other added. "Bet you didn’t know that bit, did ya?"
"I didn’t."
"Well! There you go, two gifts for saving us! Thanks, Tempest. We’ll see you another ti, okay?"
"Wait!" He said again.
"We can’t wait, Tempest. Neither can you. You’ve got things to do."
"But... What do I do?" He said again, desperately. "I don’t want to be King. I don’t know how to win this war. I don’t know how to win the Stormfront."
"Well, I can tell you, you’re not going to win the Stormfront by killing."
"No, Sir. Not by killing. Well, at least, not by killing people."
"Then how?"
"You’ve declared yourself King of Erson lands, haven’t you? Why don’t you start there? Why don’t you actually beco King of the land?"
"How do I do that?"
"You tell , Tempest. After everything you’ve seen here today, I think you might be able to figure it out."
"But just rember – we loved the First King for a reason. Not because he was strong. Because he was just."
"Just?"
"That’s right. You’ve been asking for justice, haven’t you?"
"Why don’t you do your part then, as King, and bring justice to the land, not just the people?"
"But I don’t want to be King..."
"You want to be justice."
"A King is justice."
"Can’t have one without the other."
"Goodbye, Tempest," they said, pausing on the edge of the trees, just before they entered the forest.
"Won’t I get to see you again?"
"Perhaps... When the ti is right."
And then they really did disappear. For all of ten seconds.
"WE FORGOT THE TROLL!" One cried, and then they ca rushing back, hamr in hand, to hastily perform the last of their mission.
"We were incredibly cool there..."
"So cool..."
They made the corpse vanish entirely in just a handful of minutes, hamring away at it, the body seed to disappear into thin air.
"I have a feeling, if I co back here tomorrow, you might be here," Oliver said with a smile.
They both froze up.
"He got us."
"We were this close..."
"...We’re going to get told off. The Chief is going to find out..."
"No offence, Tempest. You’re probably fine for a human, but..."
Oliver simply smiled at them.
"Yeah. That’s Tempest. We’re dood."
"Yup."
"See you tomorrow," Oliver called after them as they skulked away.
Chapter 22 – My Kingdom
"You’re up early for a man that ca back so late," Blackthorn comnted sulkily, as Oliver helped himself to the rations that they were busy cooking on the fire. It was a luxury that Oliver didn’t mind allowing his n at the start of the day. Naturally, their enemy was likely to see the smoke of it – but only at the beginning of the day. They could assu a position from them, but they could not draw an awful lot from it. Not when there were only two pillars of smoke, enough that a scout could easily light them by himself. And, unlike a fire at night, there was the expectation that they would move elsewhere once they were done with their cooking – or at least, there was that expectation from the enemy. The n of the Winged Unit did not look to be going anywhere anyti soon.
It was only Oliver, Blackthorn and a handful of other n that were awakened. Even Gar was curled up under a blanket, snoring away peacefully. When he was asleep like that, he could even have been called endearing. The madness that afflicted him in his waking hours was nowhere to be seen.
"Hm... True, I didn’t sleep that much, did I?" Oliver said absentmindedly, only just now realizing how little sleep he’d had. "For all that, I feel rather good. Here, try this. There was so wild garlic growing. It can almost convince you that it’s fresh stew, right?"
Blackthorn accepted the bowl of stew with a look that said she wasn’t at all happy. Her eyes were narrowed, but she said nothing more as she brought the spoon to her mouth. Then, her eyes twitched open. "Good, right?" Oliver said. "Not that I’ve tried it yet."
"Then try it," Blackthorn said, offering him a spoonful.
Oliver gulped it down, and then pulled a face like Blackthorn.
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