Ferene took a deep breath, looking up at the clouded, late-day sky. She couldn’t remember the last time she had talked so much. During the discussion, she answered question after question, following the instructions from Taradira, and letting the letter do most of the work. In the end, Treventhal pledged their assistance, and Ferene left the building, Grathen and Tilhana at her side.

  “May I see your knife?” her sister asked.

  Ferene paused, her hand going to the weapon, eventually handing it over. Tilhana looked at it, reading the inscription before looking back at Ferene.

  “We can add to it, if you want. To show your ties here. It isn’t an uncommon practice.”

  Blinking, Ferene studied her sister. There was a hesitation in her words, an uncertainty. Thinking it over, Ferene nodded. “I can’t read it, but I’d like that.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grathen frown, and turned to him. He shook his head. “I suppose I will have to deal with that myself, at some point.”

  “We could make you one, if you wish.”

  “I’d prefer to do it myself. I have the skills, I just…it wasn’t a tradition in my time, I don’t feel like I should have one, yet. I’m still a stranger. I have yet to return to Ravthal. I want to see what it is like there.”

  Tilhana nodded at this, and handed Ferene back her knife. “What are you planning to do next, now that you have finished your mission here?”

  “We wait for Taradira.”

  A farmer spotted their approach and came up the slope to meet the three, the dark-skinned Hatharen’s simple work clothes offset by the sword at his waist.

  “Is that Taradira I see? I thought you were in the human lands.”

  “The time for my return came. I started with Aesuthal.”

  “We’d be happy to have you back.”

  “I won’t be staying, Altere. I’m visiting every stronghold. I’m going to raise an army. I’d be happy to have you.”

  He fell silent, first staring at Taradira, then turning his head north, gazing over the barren landscape. “Yeah. Yeah, we need that. We’ve lost too many.” With that, he walked back to the field, crouching down and burying his hands in the dirt again.

  “He’s alone, isn’t he?” Faltare asked. Taradira nodded, before walking forward, skirting around the cropline and walking towards a small cospe of trees. Their roots were exposed in the center, tangled together in a messy knot. Taradira carefully stepped into the maze, placing her feet near a larger opening.

  “I hate this part.” She said, “Count to ten, then follow me.” She took a small step forward, and slid down into the earth.

  The drop was short, barely more than her own height. She landed and immediately stepped forward, kicking the heavy metal door. As she waited, she heard someone land behind her.

  The door opened outward, filling the hollow with light. A hatharen stood, holding a lantern in one hand and a crossbow in the other. It was primed, but she kept it pointed at the wall.

  “Who are you?”

  “Taradira.”

  The woman frowned. “I’ve heard that name before. Don’t know you, though.”

  “If I was trouble, Altere wouldn’t still be working the field.” She heard someone else drop behind her.

  “Who are you friends?”

  “Selveren from Treventhal and Faltare from Aesuthal.”

  “Fine. Go on then.” She stepped back, stepping to the side of the passage as she adjusted her weapon.

  As they walked through the dimly-lit tunnel, Selveren spoke up. “Is that a normal greeting here?”

  “She seemed young,” Taradira replied. “Likely just taking her role too seriously.”

  The three continued in silence, following the tunnel as the natural stone transitioned to a carved hallway, with squared corners. Rather than being set into the walls, lanterns hung from above, barely low enough that Taradira had to move her head to avoid hitting them. Here and there, wooden doors broke the walls. Taradira picked one of these and lead the other two through it.

  “Vilventhal. The place of light in darkness.” Faltare commented.

  “Not quite.” The hallway dipped downward, again, with a jagged hole in the side. “Here.”

  A massive cavern lay on the other side of the opening, sloping both downwards and upwards, their vantage point a relatively small hole in the wall of the chamber. Beyond the wooden stairway leading down stood tightly clustered houses, carved out of the ground itself. Braziers lit the spaces between without outshining the narrow beams of light stabbing down from the high ceiling above.

  “There are three caverns like this one, interconnected, though the total population could fit into just two with plenty of room to spare.”

  Taradira started walking down the stairway, the other two following, Selveren immediately asking questions.

  “There are many fields like the one we saw before, then? If the majority of your food and livestock are located above, this would be the most vulnerable stronghold to a prolonged siege. What contingency plans do you have for that? How many entrances do you have? Surely there are ones larger than the hole we used to get here, for the movement of supplies or larger groups.”

  “My friends live in this cavern, we’re going to find them before talking with some others. Word of me being here will eventually reach the council of elders, and they will find me. Then I’ll explain what I need to them.”

  “Is there underground fishing, then? Or some kind of plants that grow down here? Or a diet of worms?”

  “How many worms do you think Taradira would have to eat in a day?” Faltare asked with a laugh.

  “I don’t know how many worms a person of normal size would eat.”

  “So there’s what, five hundred people here? And they all eat worms?”

  “No, only to supplement the farming above, or as an emergency plan.”

  “We don’t eat worms.” Taradira cut them off, causing Faltare to laugh again. They reached the bottom of the long staircase, stepping onto the smooth floor of the cave. “This way.” She lead them through the narrow, twisting paths between stone buildings, until she banged on the door of one.

  After a moment, it swung open, revealing a female Hatharen. As Taradira looked down at her, she noticed the thinness of her body and limbs, the lanky build of someone still growing. She blinked and then broke into a smile.

  “I’m looking for Yaherhen and Jalthas.”

  “My parents aren’t here right now.”

  “I’m Taradira. Can you tell me where they are?”

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  The youth’s eyes went wide at the mention of her name. She loudly breathed in, stepping back a bit. “You’re Taradira?”

  “Yes. Your parents are old friends of mine.”

  The girl looked around, then ducked and charged forward, squeezing past Taradira and running down the passageway, almost bouncing off the walls of the houses.

  “Why’d she do that?” Selveren asked.

  Taradira ducked her head as she stepped into the building, looking around until she saw a chair and sat down in it. Selveren followed her inside and took a seat of his own, while Faltare stood in the doorway. “Is it alright for me to come inside?”

  “They’re my friends, and you’re with me. It’ll be fine.”

  She also came in and sat down around the table with the other two, and they waited in silence.

  It wasn’t long before footsteps sounded outside, and a tall Hatharen man stepped through the doorway. It was just tall enough that he didn’t need to duck, and he was followed by a shorter woman, and finally the young lady from before.

  “Taradira! What are you doing here?”

  “I have a task that I need your help with.”

  The youth hopped from one foot to the other, acting much younger than she appeared. Taradira didn’t look at her, keeping her focus on Jalthas, who simply nodded. “We owe you our lives.”

  “Your daughter ran away before she could introduce herself.”

  “Ah.” Jalthas said, while the woman at his side - Yaherhen - let out a sigh.

  “Tell her your name.” She instructed, placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

  “She’s Taradira! What if-what if-what-“

  Jalthas spoke up, cutting her off. “This is Taradilana, our daughter.”

  Faltare laughed. Taradira stared at the girl, at a loss for words.

  Ferene learned to swim.

  Every day, Hatharen gathered at the lake in the center of the basin. While the waters contained no fish that Ferene saw, they harvested some kind of underwater plant in the shallows while others would strip down and swim nearby. Upon learning that Ferene had no idea how to do this, she immediately pulled her into the water and started teaching.

  Ferene quickly grasped the basics, feeling almost natural in the water, though she was unable to move as quickly as the more experienced swimmers. Tilhana smiled and laughed, watching her, as the two moved into deeper and deeper water, challenging Ferene to dive to the bottom and bring a rock back.

  Grathen, on the other hand, declined to participate, staying at the shore and watching, though when Ferene returned he admitted he had spent most of the time studying the farming.

  “I remember hearing about life in Treventhal, but I’d never seen it before. It is interesting.”

  After every swimming session, they had lunch, and then moved outwards. Ferene and Grathen met with the rest of Tilhana’s family as they foraged among the trees closer to the rim. While Tilhana gave only limited instructions, Grathen stayed by her side, and was particularly strict in what mushrooms she should pick.

  “Hatharen will shrug off the illness easily, but eat that one and you’ll be in pain the next day. Humans might not even survive.”

  Ferene left the fungus alone, moving on, instead collecting moss and barks, leaving Grathen to deal with the mushrooms.

  They gathered again for dinner, the eight of them eating together every night, before breaking again. Tilhana returned to the training area, practicing under the stars far above. The open sky stood as a stark difference to Yonthal’s more limited view. It reminded her more of her time in the human lands.

  She joined Tilhana, sparring with whoever wanted. The two never directly faced each other again, though her sister would often watch her fight. Afterward, they’d return to their houses and sleep.

  “If you hadn’t saved us, well…we decided to name her after you.”

  Taradira took another deep breath, finally pulling her eyes away from Taradilana and looking up at Yaherhen. “Thank you.”

  “See, she isn’t mad at you.” Jalthas said, patting his daughter on the shoulder again. The youth stepped forward, closer to Taradira.

  “I can have the name?”

  “Of course you can.” Taradira replied, extending a hand. Taradilana grabbed it in both of hers, a smile spreading across her face.

  “So, you said something about a task?”

  Letting the girl hold her hand, Taradira nodded as she turned to Jalthas. “I’m raising an army to march north. I’m going to visit every stronghold to ask them for their support. Aesuthal has already agreed.”

  Jalthas looked at the other two guests, his eyes lingering on Selveren. “He doesn’t look like he’s from Aesuthal.”

  “That’s Selveren. He’s from Treventhal, but he was one of my charges in the human lands. Faltare is from Aesuthal.”

  The two nodded in turn, and Jalthas tapped his chin. “I’m assuming you’ll be meeting with the council, then. What can we do to help?”

  “Gather people outside the council cavern, so that I may speak to them all at once. Regardless of what the elders say, the decision comes down to the individual.”

  “Why speak to the council at all?” Taradilana asked, looking up in confusion.

  Taradira smiled at her “They are respected, and their agreement will mean a lot.”

  Yaherhen stepped closer to Jalthas, standing directly behind Taradilana. “Are you going there immediately? How long will it take to talk with them?”

  “I’d like to, yes. It shouldn’t be very long, they and I have an understanding from my last meeting.” She knew things about them, what they allowed to happen without fighting back. Taradira had no intention of revealing that truth, since if she succeeded, it wouldn’t matter, and knowledge of the manipulation would do nothing to help her. She only needed to focus on victory, not righting the sins of the past.

  “We’ll get going, then. Come, Tara, you can help too.”

  “Yes!”

  Taradira stood up, waving to the three as they left.

  “They seem like more than just friends of yours.” Faltare said.

  “They see it differently than I do. I didn’t expect them to go that far.”

  She laughed. “You are happy, though.”

  “I am.”

  “You have returned.”

  Taradira back at the speaker. “I am,” she answered. Two of the members of the council were different than last time, but she did not feel they were any less responsible for the situation. Anyone could have done what she was doing in the thousands of years, yet none of them did. They embraced fighting while cowered from committing to war. They built around reducing losses by spending the minimum amount of resources to defend themselves, and it cost them long term. None of the people who sat on this council had ever pushed to do something differently.

  “Then we can assume you have learned what you set out to?”

  “I have. I am contacting every stronghold to form an army, to march north and find the source of the monsters and end them. Due to our numbers, we will need as many as possible to be on the front lines, so I will use humans to manage a supply chain as we advance.”

  “So what do you ask of us?” another of them spoke. Taradira immediately snapped her gaze to the man, meeting his eyes. He didn’t shy away from her.

  “Four hundred, at least.”

  “Four hundred?”

  “Four hundred Hatharen. More, if possible.”

  “You would leave less than a hundred here!” Someone else exclaimed. Taradira didn’t turn to her, keeping her eyes on the man.

  “Aesuthal has pledged a thousand.”

  “We are not as foolish as Helrithran.”

  Taradira nodded. “I know, which is why you will give me four hundred. That man wants nothing more than to be the king of all Hatharen, yet he will part with the source of his power regardless. Since you seek only the best for your people, and not your own gain, you will surely give me what I want.”

  The first speaker rose to her feet. “We shall discuss this, Taradira. You will wait outside.”

  “I have asked some friends of mine to gather the stronghold so that all may hear my offer. I shall speak to them while you deliberate.” Without giving them a chance to respond, she turned and walked out of the room.

  Taradira was sure over a hundred Hatharen waited for her, packed into the narrow passages before the entrance to the council’s cavern. They all stared up at her at the top of the staircase, waiting silently. Jalthas and Yaherhen waited at the front, smiling, with Taradilana between them. Upon seeing her namesake, the child ran up the steps to take a spot at Taradira’s side. Looking behind her, she saw Selveren and Faltare take up their places at her side.

  “Thank you all. I’m glad to see you again.” She smiled down at them, and was met with smiles in return. “I have come here to ask for your help. I want you to fight alongside me. Join me and the Hatharen of Aesuthal in marching northward, to put an end to the attacks from the monsters that dwell there. We can make a better world for ourselves. With one outing, we can end the cycle that is slowly killing our people. I ask you not to trust only me, but to trust in the strength of us as a people. Trust me, trust the Hatharen of Aesuthal, trust the other strongholds that may join us. Trust the person beside you, and most of all, trust yourself. Trust that we are strong enough to be victorious.”

  Someone shouted her name. Quickly, someone else responded in kind. It started a chant, all of them shouting her name, the sound rising upwards and echoing throughout the cavern.

  She was gently pushed from behind, and found the council of elders walking past her, arranging themselves on the staircase, below her.

  “We will support Taradira.” One said when the chant died down, only to have cheers spread through the crowd. This wasn’t the silent acceptance of Aesuthal, but her own people celebrating her ideas. At that moment, she held more of their respect than the council. They looked at her the same way the army did back in Ettsgras. Despite giving up the title of General, she felt the same. She felt the familiar weight of responsibility settle onto her shoulders, the knowledge that they would fail or succeed - and in turn live or die - by her command. Taking a deep breath, she nodded.

  “Thank you.” She said, “I ask that you take your time preparing, as I move northwest, to visit the other strongholds and gather more of our people. When I return, we will march to Aesuthal, our final gathering point before we set out across the wasteland.”