A Meet of Tribes

by Bella Forrest

  I walked in without knocking, as usual. The thought of irritating him even in the smallest of ways gave me some satisfaction. But I stopped as soon as I registered the scene before me.

  Draven stood before his desk, a map unraveled beneath his fingers. In front of him stood Hansa and Bijarki. The fire burned hot in the fireplace, making me break into a sweat. Hansa wore her black leather garments with silver plates, and the red cape hung loosely from one shoulder. Her sword’s hilt poked out from underneath. She turned around to face me and gave me a beaming, enthusiastic smile, as if I were the best thing she’d seen all day. Bijarki looked over his shoulder and nodded politely.

  “Serena!” Hansa exclaimed.

  She reached me in two steps and nearly crushed me in a bear hug, holding me against her toned curves. She was such an impressive creature. I found myself always in awe of her. I hugged her back, taking comfort in her unconditional affection while I caught a glimpse of Draven. Our eyes met for a brief second before he turned his focus back to Bijarki. A muscle danced in his jaw.

  “It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Hansa said and stepped back to look at me.

  She scanned me from head to toe and frowned slightly. “You’re not eating much, are you?”

  “I’m all right. Not much of an appetite, that’s all.” I blushed and gave her a weak smile. “It’s so good to see you. I had no idea you were here or that Bijarki was back.”

  I made sure to accentuate the incubus’s name enough to make him feel singled out. I knew Vita had been worried about him, so it didn’t feel right to know he’d been here in Draven’s study for who knows how long.

  “When did you arrive?” I asked Hansa. My gaze found Bijarki, who was giving me a wary sideways glance.

  “Oh, about an hour ago. We had to organize everything back at the camp before I could come here,” she replied. “I was just briefing the Druid on what we’ve learned so far.”

  I nodded and focused on Hansa, unwilling to look at Draven again. I feared that if I saw his deep gray eyes, I would lose control over my senses and cave in. I had to bottle it all in.

  “So, what’s new?” I asked, a tinge of faux excitement in my voice, as if engaging in the most trivial conversation possible.

  “Well, I met Urdi on his mountain. It took me a while to convince him to agree to a meeting with Draven,” she said. “He wasn’t so happy about Azazel draining his volcanoes of energy for his dark magic, but he was still clinging to that ridiculous pacifist approach of his, according to which everything is the will of Eritopia and Azazel was most likely part of it blah, blah, blah. Long story short, I eventually presented him with the argument that he needed to get really angry and literally catch fire.”

  She chuckled, remembering the scene. I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. Hansa had that effect on me, apparently.

  “They’re such peaceful creatures, these Dearghs. Such slow and gentle stone giants…until you make them mad. They light up from the inside like beacons of fire. You must take a few steps back so as not to get scorched. I made him understand that Azazel’s use of the volcanoes for his dark magic wasn’t natural at all, that it was a Druid-made intervention that contradicted the nature of Eritopia. I had to give him a few examples from the Druids’ history for him to better understand what dark magic did. And once he realized that Azazel was killing the Dearghs out of nothing but greed, he lost it,” Hansa laughed. “So, Urdi has agreed to meet with Draven at Mount Inon. It's the closest active volcano from here. It’s a half-day trip on foot,” she concluded.

  I nodded slowly, processing all that information and briefly energized by the thought that everything was starting to move along. I could see progress after a few days of stagnation. I’d been bored and restless stuck inside the mansion. I was eager to get out again.

  “When are we leaving, then?” I asked.

  “You are not going anywhere. You are safer here,” Draven interjected before Hansa could reply. “Only myself, Hansa, and Bijarki will be taking this trip. Mount Inon is extremely hazardous.”

  A moment passed before I let out a mocking laugh. There was no way I would allow him to undermine my presence or my skills ever again. Not after everything we’d been through. He may have intended to protect me by keeping me here, but I represented my friends and my brother in this war. There was no way I’d get left behind.

  “Oh no, Draven. I am coming,” I replied with the iciest tone I could muster. “Whether you like it or not, I am coming on behalf of my friends, the Oracles you intend to use in this war against Azazel. There will be no further discussion about it.”

  A moment passed in which no one said anything. Draven just looked at me with his jaw clenched and an unreadable expression on his face. I could see the smirk on Bijarki’s face, and I tried hard not to grin back. Hansa stared at me, her white teeth bared in a wide smile. I had impressed her, and that made me feel good.

  “We leave in two hours,” she said.

  “Okay then, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go pack a bag.” I nodded politely and left.

  I closed the study door behind me and exhaled. I’d made it out of there without succumbing to the many emotions rushing through me from being so close to Draven.

  Vita

  After Serena left, I decided to kill some time in the library. I wasn’t getting any visions—I suspected due to my inability to take my mind off Bijarki. So, I figured some reading might help instead. I pulled out a couple of books on Sluaghs and Lamias, along with a history of the incubi nation, and sat at the walnut table in the middle to catch as much of the sunlight pouring into the room as possible.

  Half an hour in, I’d learned about the incubi wars from two thousand years ago when the eastern and western citadels had been established as key opposing cities of the two incubi nations, the Bals and the Kerrs. The Bals were known as proud warriors of grand military traditions, while the Kerrs were the textbook definition of democrats, leading through example and progress rather than brute force. It sounded a lot like the human world back home, where freedom and warfare clashed.

  The library door opened, and I looked up to see Bijarki come in. My heart jumped, and my limbs softened at the sight of him. He smiled, and relief washed over me as he walked toward me. I straightened my back in response and smiled back.

  “You’re back,” I managed to say.

  He nodded and pulled out a chair to sit next to me. The closer he got, the higher my body temperature rose.

  “It took me a while. There were a lot of preparations to make with the Red Tribe for what’s coming next,” he replied.

  I realized then that I had missed the sound of his husky voice. My brain responded by sending millions of tingling sensations through my skin.

  “Well, you’re back in one piece, which is good,” I said. “What is going to happen next?”

  “I’m due to leave again in an hour. We’re going to see the Dearghs at Mount Inon. They’ve agreed to meet with us. I’ll be going with Draven, Serena, and Hansa.”

  “Oh.” I nodded.

  My enthusiasm quickly fizzled into disappointment. He noticed my frown and cocked his head, giving me a boyish half-smile that spelled mischief.

  “I’ll be back by tomorrow, little fae,” he said. “It’s only half a day away.”

  I had a hard time finding my words, which only added to the frustration brewing inside of me. The more time I spent around Bijarki, the hotter I burned. My body and soul felt helpless before him. I couldn’t speak. I was already mentally preparing myself to count more hours before I would see him again.

  A few moments passed before he spoke again. “What are you reading?” He glanced at the book before me.

  “A history of the incubi,” I replied, eyes fixed on the text.

  He bent forward enough to scan the text quickly and make my breath hitch. His face was dangerously close to mine again.

  “Ah, yes, the Kerrs.” He smiled and flipped a couple of pages.

&n
bsp; His fingers pointed at another chapter about the allied clans of the Kerrs. I read the first passage, about the Strandh clan, one of the Kerrs’ most valuable assets in battle, according to the book. They were known for their physical prowess but also for their ingenious use of technology in combat, including different types of explosive projectiles.

  “The Strandh clan.” I repeated the name, then looked at Bijarki.

  “That’s my clan,” he said and bit into his lower lip.

  Pride glimmered in his silver eyes. I found it enticing and nearly lost myself in his gaze. He told me about the Strandh lineage, renowned for its resilience and strategic thinking.

  “My father was once a powerful general of the Kerr nation. He united the southern tribes into one citadel that later pledged its allegiance to the Kerrs,” Bijarki added. “That was, of course, before he surrendered to Azazel.”

  My heart tied itself up in knots at the sight of his pained expression.

  “He brought shame to my family, to our entire nation, and to the Strandh lineage.”

  “I am sorry, Bijarki,” I said. “I can only imagine how that must have felt.”

  My hand instinctively covered his on top of the book, my fingers squeezing gently enough to express some of the affection I felt toward him. He’d shown an emotional side of himself, and, judging by his military upbringing, it had taken an effort for him to open up like that. Even if it was just one expression in front of a little fae.

  “I stopped grieving a long time ago, Vita. I’m a soldier. I fight. He’s made his bed, and he will have to lie in it.”

  He took a deep breath and straightened his back, finally noticing my hand on his. I moved to take it back, but he stopped me. His fingers gently brushed my knuckles. His gaze shifted to my face, and our eyes met. I felt my throat dry up, and I licked my lips, unable to stifle the thirst that had suddenly taken over.

  He brought his hand up, leaving mine tingling on the book. He cupped my cheek and smiled, his eyelids dropping slowly. He parted his lips as his face came close enough for me to feel his breath over my lips. My heart galloped in my chest. My head swam as I gazed into his eyes, mesmerized by the silver swirls around his pupils.

  I felt my lower lip quiver, my core beckoning me to taste him.

  Then an image formed in the black pools of his pupils. It grew larger, expanding outward until it enveloped me entirely. Before I knew it, I was standing in the middle of a vision. A dark chamber, made of black stone and heavy iron chains rattling from the ceiling.

  Green flames flickered from the wall-mounted torches. I gasped, recognizing the interior of Azazel’s castle. My heart stopped at the sight before me. Bijarki was on his knees, his wrists cuffed and bleeding, pulled up by the chains from the ceiling. He was in a lot of pain, bruised and beaten all over, his bare chest slashed diagonally.

  A tall incubus walked around him, holding a whip. He was older than Bijarki and bore his physical resemblance. My stomach churned with the realization of who it was.

  “You gave up everything for her, son. You stupid, stupid boy,” the incubus said to Bijarki.

  He struck him. The whistle of the lash cut through the air and bit into Bijarki’s back.

  I cried out. Stop it!

  “At least I fought for what I believed in. At least I wasn’t a coward who sided with the enemy of my people, of my world, like you did, father,” Bijarki replied, gritting his teeth from the pain. “At least I fought with honor!”

  “Your honor is useless here, son! Your Oracle will rot away in a glass bubble! You have failed, and now I have to convince you to join us, or die!”

  Another lash. Another cry.

  “Vita!” Bijarki shouted, tears streaming down his cheeks as his father continued to hit him.

  His voice echoed through the chamber, and I trembled and cried out.

  Stop it!

  “Vita?” Bijarki’s voice pulled me back into reality.

  The image dissipated like a drop of ink in water, swiftly replaced by Bijarki’s worried expression. I was lying on the floor in his arms. His hand caressed my face, and his voice gently drew me back into the present.

  I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful not to be in that chamber anymore. In that future.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, holding me close.

  I relaxed in his grip and reached a hand out to touch his face. I saw black runes dancing on my skin again, and I stilled, my fingers on his sharp-edged cheek. He saw them as well and frowned before shifting his focus back to my face.

  I watched the runes slowly disappear and took a deep breath. My cheeks burned, and my pulse raced.

  “I saw you, Bijarki. You were captured, a prisoner in Azazel’s prison. Your own father was punishing you, calling you a failure with each lash of his whip.”

  I felt his grip tighten. His embrace brought me closer to his face. He nodded and helped me back up on my feet. I wanted to tell him about other visions I’d had of him. I wanted to tell him about the two of us in bed, sleeping blissfully before the Destroyers crashed into the room and tore us apart.

  But I wasn’t sure whether that had been a vision or a dream. And I lacked the courage to describe such a scene to him. I wasn’t used to opening up to people other than my closest family.

  “You see the future so that we may prevent it,” Bijarki replied.

  He ran his fingers through my hair and brushed his knuckles against my cheek. His gaze softened, and his lips stretched into a warm smile.

  “Next time I see my father, I’ll have to run my sword through him.”

  He withdrew his hand, bowed curtly, and left the library, while I spent the next few minutes recovering my breath and reeling from the delicious sensations that his touch had ignited in every inch of my flesh.

  Serena

  Several hours later, we reached Mount Inon. The journey there had been swift and uneventful. Bijarki and Hansa did a good job of keeping the shape-shifters away with poisoned arrows. The weather was in our favor, and the sun was high in the sky as we climbed the rocky volcano ridge.

  It led us to a narrow plateau surrounded by tall shrubs, where giant sculptures adorned the limestone wall of the mountain. Draven and I didn’t exchange a single word, and I kept my distance from him, thankful to have Hansa standing between us.

  “What now?” I asked her.

  She grinned and took a few steps forward.

  I took a moment to admire the sculpture. They were twice as tall as us with sturdy legs, broad shoulders, and red vines crawling up their torsos. It dawned on me then that these were the Dearghs that Aida had described from her vision.

  “Wake up, you lazy oafs!” Hansa shouted at the stone giants.

  “I don’t think they respond to that kind of—” Draven started to say.

  The stone began to crackle, and the giants moved.

  One by one, they opened their eyes to reveal fiery pupils made of lava and stepped forward with heavy grunts. The biggest one came closer, looking down at us. I couldn’t help but tremble. One wrong move and either one of them could crush us with a single blow. My mouth gaped, and my eyes widened as I took in the entire tableau.

  “A little respect could get you a long way,” the Deargh in the middle said, his voice rumbling like thunder.

  “I have no time to caress your ancient egos, Inon,” Hansa replied. “We’re here to discuss an alliance, as per my conversation with Urdi. Time is running out, so you need to summon the lava boys here tonight!”

  A moment passed before Inon spoke again.

  “Is this the Druid?” he asked, pointing a lazy finger at Draven.

  Hansa nodded.

  “Indeed. We’ve held up our end of the bargain. We’re here. It’s your turn to come through,” she said.

  “I thought I smelled a snake,” Inon smirked and stepped aside.

  The other Dearghs cleared the path for us and, one by one, we entered the mountain through a narrow opening in the wall they had been covering in their statue
forms. We reached a tall cave. Its smooth beige walls were riddled with millions of stick figures etched in black and depicting various scenes of hunting, gathering, and prayer. Tiny streams of hot lava ran across the floor, bathing the space in a warm orange light.

  I was careful to walk over them as we advanced through the cave.

  We stopped in the middle and turned around to face the Dearghs. Inon came forward and spent some time measuring me from head to toe. I was a strange creature to them and not of this world.

  “Is this the Oracle?” he asked no one in particular.

  “No. My brother is one of the Oracles,” I replied.

  I didn’t know where I’d gathered enough courage to address a Deargh, but Draven’s presence so close to me seemed to be a likely source. Somewhere deep inside, I felt like I had to prove to him that I was fearless, unlike him.

  “Before I summon my brothers,” Inon said. “What is it that you will bring to the table, Druid? Why should we trust you in battle?”

  “We have the Oracles and the last Daughter of Eritopia,” Draven answered, his chin up. “With the right support from creatures like the Dearghs, the Lamias, and anyone else standing to lose everything if Azazel conquers the whole of Eritopia, we will be able to take him down once and for all.”

  Inon nodded again.

  “But you already know that,” Draven added.

  Both Hansa and Bijarki turned their heads to look at him, raising their eyebrows.

  “I would like to know what else the Dearghs can provide in this battle, other than brute force,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” Inon replied, tilting his giant stone head to one side.

  “Yes, what do you mean?” Hansa asked Draven.

  “We need to get Sverik, son of Arid, out of Azazel’s dungeon. A regular trip there will get us killed, as the Destroyers are getting closer and more aggressive each day, and there are thousands of spies in the jungle, recording every movement that anyone makes through those woods. However, there is an active volcano less than a mile away from that dungeon. We need you to get us there when the time is right,” Draven explained.