Solus and Kamila returned only to take part in the celebrations once the deal was sealed.
Even though resources were scarce, the Kingdom and the Empire had brought the means to hold a banquet and exchange gifts with all their allies.
The elves of Setraliie, the people of Zelex, and the undead of the Eclipsed Lands had fought on their own until that moment, enduring harsh conditions and having only the food from the local Council to sustain themselves.
The banquet was the way for the Kingdom and the Empire to thank their allies for their sacrifices and start the coexistence with the human side of the expedition on the right foot.
As for the elves of Medolin, the banquet was meant to impress them and give them a taste of their future freedom.
“How long until the Gate is completed?” Lith asked with a polite smile plastered on his face. “I’ve done my part and I can’t wait to get out of here.”
“A few days. One week tops.”
Orion replied, wearing a similar grin. “My Forgemasters have been working on the Gate as fast as they can even during the treaties. Any more would be rushing things and you don’t want that.”
“How so?”
“Lith, this is the first transoceanic Gate in Mogar’s history.” Orion said, his enthusiasm turning genuine. “Once we are done building and enchanting it, we could have to deal with unforeseen issues that might arise from connecting two points so distant in space.”
“So it’s a few days if we encounter no complications and one week otherwise.” Lith sighed. “I can live with that.”
While everyone enjoyed their first night of festivities since coming to Jiera, only one sour Nidhogg remained.
Time had brought Bodya no solace nor clarity.
No one of his contacts on Jiera had witnessed Narso’s death and the members of his family refused his calls. He sat on the sidelines of the encampment, nibbling chunks of meat from the corpse of a humongous sea creature he had captured and sipping wine from a regular-sized cup.
“Are you sure you don’t want to cook it?” Tista asked, the smell of entrails and blood so strong that only the presence of an array kept it from stinking the air.
“I’m sure.” He nodded. “This thing tastes like shit but that’s exactly how I feel. There’s no point in also souring your mood. Go back to the others.”
Tista didn’t know what to do or say to make him feel better. Being there for Bodya was the only thing she could do and clearly, it wasn’t enough. Her presence gave the Nidhogg comfort but it also reminded him that he was on a clock.
He had to choose between his girlfriend and his family and if he waited for too long, he was going to lose them both.
“Look-” “Listen-” They said in unison as Bodya’s communication amulet lit up.
“Isn’t that your grandfather’s rune?” Tista asked.
“It is!” Bodya hoped that Vothal had listened to all the messages Bodya had left and was calling him to patch things up.
He hoped that his questions would finally find an answer. That the love between the foster parent and son had finally overcome the duty Vothal felt he owed to their tribe. Yet Bodya didn’t dare voice those thoughts and steeled himself for the worst.
“If the patriarch finds out that I called you, son, I’m going to be in a lot of trouble so shut up and listen.” The older Nidhogg was in his humanoid form, standing in the middle of several Forgemastering circles that sealed the room from external influences and hopefully would keep the amulet’s signal from being detected.
“There’s something wrong with the Black Tide. It has plagued our land for months but now it has suddenly started to move.”
“I know that already.” Bodya sighed. On the one hand, he was glad for his grandfather’s concern for his wellbeing. On the other, he was utterly disappointed. “It’s because the members of the expedition-”
“I said shut up!” Vothal hissed. “I know about that and I wouldn’t call you for weeks-old news. What I’m talking about happened in the last two days and I’ve called you only after confirming that it’s not just the usual ebb and flow of the frontlines.
“The Black Tide isn’t shifting around for food like usual, it’s leaving!”
“Leaving?” Bodya echoed in disbelief.
A monster tide was comprised of millions of monsters and had to settle in a place with enough life to temporarily sustain its existence. So many creatures couldn’t just get up and move away.
They were literally a living tide whose patterns could be studied and predicted.
“Yes, leaving. And under any other circumstances I would be ecstatic.” Vothal’s forked tongue nervously licked his scaly lips. “The tide is moving to the west, giving our tribe respite and our lands the opportunity to recover. Even better, the tide is directed toward a barren land.
“Each day of travel will kill thousands of monsters either of hunger or to sate that of its strongest members. I had no reason to worry or call you until I triangulated the current position of your amulet, son.
“I don’t care what the patriarch says, I may be mad at you but I don’t want you dead. So get your things and leave because based on the latest report of our scouts, the Black Tide will reach the Wayfinder in a matter of hours.”
Bodya was moved by his grandfather’s care. Infringing the patriarch’s decree was a severe crime and if exposed, Vothal might be banished from the clan for aiding a traitor.
At the same time, however, Bodya couldn’t put aside the doubts about Narso’s death and the news sounded absurd rather than unsettling. Once the seed of doubt was planted, it cast its shadow over every word coming out of Vothal’s mouth.
“Are you telling the truth or is this another attempt to manipulate me?” Bodya’s voice started as a whisper but grew in volume with each word.
“There’s no time for arguing. Just get away from there!” The older Nidhogg said in frustration, nervously looking around like he expected someone to barge inside the Forgemastering lab at any moment.
“So says you.” Bodya snarled. “Someone planted Bodya’s corpse in the Sun Valley right where the patriarch Warped me. Was it a coincidence? Have we changed our traditions and don’t recover the bodies of our fallen brothers anymore?”
Vothal flinched, his mouth opening and closing yet producing no word. His face lacked the muscles necessary to make expressions but Bodya recognized nervousness from the slight tremble in the tail.
“How do I know that this isn’t just another ruse to make a fool of me in front of the other members of the expedition? That you aren’t going to destroy the Gate as soon as it is left unprotected?
“How can I believe you after what the tribe has done to my brood brother?” The younger Nidhogg took his grandfather’s body language as an admission of guilt and voiced his doubts.
“By tricking me you are also tricking Garlen and if because of your lies the expedition fails, every relationship I’ve built so far would be destroyed.”
