Jezebeth * Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

[leviticus]

Dead.

A memory sneaked in, vague and difficult to grasp at first.

My sight blurred, and the chamber, the banner and the braziers disappeared.

Lord Vacran’s voice faded into the distance.

I remembered… darkness. It wasn’t cold, nor warm. No fear or other emotions.

And then… there was a hand. It had felt warm, and also… familiar.

The memory struck me with such a force, my chest tightened and hurt.

I remembered looking up, not at something, but rather at someone.


Seeing him… hurt. It wasn’t like a dream, and not a memory from the past.

It had been real. And it had been him.

He looked bruised, and was bleeding from dozens of cuts. His expression was as ever during a fight. Stubborn. Even there, in that… place. And then suddenly we were fighting, together. And I remembered his hand finding mine, and then I had been stubborn. No! We had to fight first! Make our way back to… to…

To where even?

I recalled a moment of impossible relief, of no longer being alone. And then one of intense frustration, of the prospect of being separated again if we didn’t succeed.

Succeed at what? At… everything??

We were together! Had been! The way we should have been!

The memory vanished as suddenly as it came.

The black stone chamber returned.

Vacran was staring at me. His expression had darkened even deeper.

“Hm…”

I straightened. “Dreadmaster?”

“You drifted away. Again.”

A chill ran through me.

Vacran folded his hands behind his back.

“Tell me…” his voice becoming dangerously quiet. “What is so fascinating that it commands your attention even away from your own downfall?”

The worst part was that I even didn’t have an answer myself.

Telling him that I was thinking about the man I had loved while he was stripping me from my rank was in Banite hierachy an admission that something has become more important than duty. Especially in front of a Dreadmaster.

And have I actually seen him? Or had it been a dream, or some other sort of chemical reaction in my brains?

Or… had it been Bane? Presenting a scene like a temptation, a reward, or a punishment?

I know my answer to Lord Vacran should have come immediately. Anything. Even if it was a lie, or an excuse, but rather something useful.

I found myself searching for words.

“I…”

Vacran’s eyebrow rose. No one hesitated before him. Ever.

“I was remembering something.”

His expression hardened. “Clearly.”

The silence that followed felt dangerous, but I struggled.

“What?” He demanded.

I remembered the guild hall. And I remembered rain. And before that…

But whatever I answered now, it wouldn’t make sense. No difference too.

As I saw him again. Only him.

“I don’t know anymore.” It left my mouth before I could stop it.

Vacran stared.

Then he laughed. It was a short sound. Humorless, and cruel.

“You don’t know.”

“No.”

He took a step closer.

“That may be the most disappointing thing you have said since you stepped into this room.”

He looked at me like he wasn’t wondering what happened to me. He looked at me like he was wondering if he could still use me. Vacran’s first concern was always utility.

“I expected more, yet here we are.”

His words landed harder than any shout.

“So did I.”

I wondered if I had spoken too honestly.

He narrowed his eyes. “Your ambition exceeds your abilities.”

That… felt like a branding iron.

“While Sanders continues to do where you failed, infiltrating from the other side, you will be reassigned. You will surrender authority over the remaining assets. Including your platoon.”

A pause.

“And you will surrender your rank.”

Curiously, I felt very little of this and nodded vaguely.

His gaze hardened. “And since I have no need for a failed diplomat…”

A faint smile then touched his lips. “You are an excellent hound however. Effective wherever fear must be cultivated.”

Hound. That word lingered in my mind.

Loyal… dangerous. Owned.

Something stirred inside me.

Not anger, not like I used to have with Sanders in the past.

No. Something different. Something that has been following me my entire life. Through villages, battlefields, graveyards and alike.

I looked my Dreadmaster directly in the eye. “A hound, my Lord?”

Vacran leaned back. “If the collar fits.”

I almost smiled. I smiled because I knew he was wrong.

I could never be a hound. Hounds guard. They obey, and wait for every command. I am someone who had survived on her own, more than once. I have hunted because I wished to, and I bit only when I chose to.

I stared at my Dreadmaster.

Sure. A wolf can wear a collar. For a time.


But it will never forget what it is…

[leviticus]

He drew his gladius and raised the double edged sword skywards, greeting his next opponent. He wore a shiny, loose fitting helmet, and his typical black, decorated armor. No one would suspect he was a prisoner, and that he had to defeat thousands before he could receive absolution. The world around him kept flickering its figurative light as my vision kept flashing from hellish darkness to blinding white. The only sound that filled my ears as I watched him was the rush of blood within my head. The clash of metal or the distinct crackling of bones was completely drowned out.

Somewhere at a far end of the scene heavy bars were lifted. A man the size of a monster stepped out of a cage onto the sand and dirt. His armor was heavily stained with blood of former gladiator-like matches. Pieces of broken chain still hung from one gauntlet.

Who was this? Another prisoner?

He approached my lover without wearing a helmet or carrying a shield, rolling his neck once. A crowd erupted. At least I assumed they did as sound hadn’t returned to my ears. The sound of my own heartbeat and the rush of blood through my head swallowed everything.

I watched how sand trembled beneath his weight. Yet the man I truly watched never moved, never lowered his blade… never looked away.

The world flickered once more between dark and light, and I could have sworn he looked directly at me.



And then... I snapped back into the harsh reality right in front of me.

Words still lingered in my mind.

-You can’t play politics with merchants…? Fine, go babysit monsters then.-

I looked up.

Wind howled through gaps between stone and timber. Snow drifted across surrounding hills despite the season insisting it should have melted tendays ago. My horse shifted beneath me as I looked over at probably one of the most unstable concentrations of power in the Moonsea. Not a civilized group. Not merchants. Not disciplined warriors.

No.

A recruitment camp where Banites brought together mercenary forces of humans, demihumans and giants. The fortress brimmed with negative energy. Assassins, mercenaries, cultists, rivaling factions, monsters barely held together by fear… all under one roof, under one devotee of Bane.

Sort of…

It reminded me a little of my own camp where I once had collected blades based on discrimination. Only this one was much larger. This wasn’t some forgotten fortification filled with forsaken souls. This was a powder keg. A place where fear was currency, where sheer strength mattered more than reputation.

And, a place where people stripped of rank started at the bottom again, trying to work their way back up. Not officially even. Never officially. Everything that happened here was off the books.


The Hill Giant Steading was known for its internal conflicts and countless, infamous brawls, and I think Vacran thinks he buried me now.

Sure… in the eyes of others I appear an exile at present. Destined to never return or never be heard of.

What they didn’t realize though was how my arena never ended.

And how none of them was actually free to leave it…

[leviticus]

I had heard of this place before. Rumors. Fragmented reports.

The reality was much worse.

Anyone sent here… their achievements absolutely carried no weight.

“Jezebeth.”

The commander glanced at the papers I handed over. Then back at me.

“That’s you?”

“Yes, sir.”

He grunted and threw the papers in the fire. Without reading them.

“I expected someone older.”

More mature. Not what he said, but clearly what he meant.

I just waited. Surely there would be more? Maybe he’d demonstrate a little curiosity?

I watched my papers burn.

Probably not.

“I heard you can be useful.”

He stopped right there, not even mentioning in what way he heard I was useful.

While I was more than that. Much more.

-Useful-

I had to resist the impulse of forcing air violently through my nose.

As if all those years of service were now reduced to just that single word.

And yet, when I come to think of it… life here might be easier. Suzail’s masks or the Steading’s monsters?

Do me monsters. They are predictable, straight forward. They don’t pretend. I know giants want power, mercenaries long for gold. And Fire Assassins…? They’ll just go for your throat.

I probably knew more about the inhabitants here than they did about each other.

I could imagine what I have to give them in order to survive.

And eventually climb.

I looked at my new ‘commander’.

Poor guy. He doesn’t even realize he’ll be my first opportunity.

His first mistake?

Discarding my papers. Judging me before understanding me.

Practicing deliberate ignorance was never good in my opinion.

Willful blind fool…

But I wasn’t going to challenge him. Not right away. Not before I had gathered more intel. Find weaknesses.

This was one.

When people believe they understand you fully, they usually stop looking.

And that’s perfect for me.

This commander may even not be incompetent. Just someone relying on reputation rather than information.

Bane’s fist. I prayed he wasn’t incompetent.

The commander looked at me. “A giant has pushed an ogre through the northern wall, leaving our defenses with a hole in it.”

I blinked slow as he next said to me.

“Handle it.”

I suppose this pretty much summed up how the Steading was governed. Leadership spending half the day preventing one faction from killing another.

“Leadership…” I mumbled as I made my way to the location.

As if giants would respect ranks. A thing I knew about them was that they respected strength. Mercenaries respect whoever pays them. And the present Fire Knives respect no one. As for any monsters… they’d be to stupid to understand the very word.

No. Authority around here didn’t exactly flew neatly from the top down. More even. It has to be re-earned, constantly, every day, again and again.

Commanders out here aren’t managing a fortress. They’re managing constant riots. If they managed any at all.

I just got dismissed by a commander, without a tour, with no explanation on my duties. Just a wave at the door with the message : find your way and try not to get eaten.

I started to see how all this could be a punishment from Vacran after all… even as the Steading is probably closer to my natural environment than the merchant halls of Suzail.


Walking through the settlement was already enough to witness the daily madness. It was the smell that struck me first. Smoke, wet fur, ale, sweat, and something I’d rather not learn. There was noise everywhere in these oversized wooden passages. Everything out here felt built for creatures three or four times the size of humans.

The courtyard where I arrived was crowded, a mix of the population present. They all spoke different languages, but one language was universal. The one of impending violence.

At the center stood an ogre that was at least twice my height. And across from him a giant clad in crude armor plates. Both their faces were twisted in annoyance.

Just as I approached the ogre screamed something unintelligible. In return, the giant answered with a kick. The ogre flew several feet through the air.

What struck me was that no one looked surprised.

The ogre landed in a stack of barrels.

Mercenaries next to me cheered and one started taking bets as the ogre staggered upright.

Then he charged. Since it was a creature that didn’t learn anything…

The giant caught him by the throat, and lifted him completely off the ground.

The mercenaries laughed.

I glanced around. No one even intended to stop this. No guards showed up to intervene, let alone an officer shouting commands.

A man standing next to me noticed my expression.

“New?”

I glanced over. “That obvious?”

He nodded. Then motioned. “The ogre stole from him.”

“Oh? What did he steal?”

The man shrugged. “It matters?”

I considered it.

Probably not.

I looked over as the giant slammed the ogre headfirst into the mud.

The crowd roared.

Ettins wandering by carrying crates didn’t even look over at the fight.

The giant grunted as he retrieved a leather pouch from the unconscious creature.

As he walked the crowd dispersed. The fun was over and the bets were settled.

Conversations resumed as daily life continued.

The man next to me spat in the dirt. “Quiet day.”

I briefly stared at him. “You call this a quiet day?”

“Mm,” he scratched his beard. “Last week a carrion crawler got into the tavern.”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear the rest.

Then he grinned at me. “You’ll fit in fine.”

I rubbed the back of my neck as I looked back at the unconscious ogre.

Case closed, I suppose.

Hmm.

Did I just find this refreshingly uncomplicated?

[leviticus]

As I took off to report to the commander, my observations about this place felt crystal clear. This wasn’t just a place containing monsters. What I saw was a collection of survivors.

A thought crossed my mind as a beast roared somewhere behind thick wooden walls.

-Bane breaks everyone and anyone. But afterwards, the remaining competent are even stronger at the places that were broken.-

Out here the useless collapsed and the weak were shattered. That is the way.

I’d have to figure out a way how to deal with my cracks, and how to utilize them.


When I arrived at what I assumed was an office, the commander briefly glanced at me.

“Ah, good. You are back.”

He barely looked up from a map, fingers tapping it.

“We have three giants who disappeared the other day. Some suggest an impending mutiny. Find them before they start a war.”

I shifted. I had expected a certain level of bureaucracy at the very least. Like reporting about my earlier case and all that. Why did I just receive the next crisis?

Also, there was also a huge lack of orientation as the commander waved me off without any further details. Meanwhile, no settling in. No chance to unpack.

But just as I was making my way through the door he called me to stop.

“Jezebeth.”

I stopped and turned around.

He finally looked up from his desk.

“I really don’t care why Lord Vacran has sent you here. I have no idea and I don’t want to know.”

His eyes dropped back to reports now covering the map.

“I care whether you can solve problems. And if you are done with the giants, here’s another one.”

A thick finger landed on a particular document, pushing it towards me.

When I headed back to fetch it, I saw the parchment was stained with mud and blood.

He offered no further explanation. Just that extra problem of his.

As I stepped out of his office I found myself smiling though. Very slightly. But still.

Probably because these problems felt like familiar territory.

This was my new arena, and just like my lover in my visions… I was up for the next challenge.


I doubted the commander would care about three ordinary giants wandering off without reappearing. I doubted if he’d care when they either got drunk or had been beaten to death.

So I assumed it had to be important giants. I had to figure out to which faction they belonged, perhaps whether or not it was a faction opposing the Shaman normally leading the Steading.

Violence and politics. Always an excellent mix.

Next, I’d have to learn if they deserted, or got murdered.

But did this case really matter that much to the commander? If this investigation was ordered by the Shaman, then it either was to cover up his own tracks, or he got genuinely worried.

Also. Why me?

Wasn’t it coincidence that all this happened just around the time I arrived? What if I was standing in the middle of a conspiracy while I haven’t even unpacked yet?

Or was it a game already in progress?


Somewhere deep inside the settlement I watched a group of giants argue. While wondering what my best approach would be, a voice appeared behind me.

“Quite a mess, ain’t it?”

I hadn’t heard his footsteps nor his approach.

I turned over only to see that same stranger as before.

Again. I observed him but there wasn’t much to go by. He wore a neutral-colored outfit, and he didn’t really stand out. He did look quite comfortable though. A bit too in my opinion.

“Do you always appear during a mess?”

A faint smile touched his lips.

I narrowed my eyes. “Who are you anyways?”

He shrugged. “Nobody important.”

Somehow I detected that may be a lie.

He nodded towards the arguing giants. “So what do you think?”

I waited.

The stranger folded his arms, and when he noticed I wasn’t answering that he resumed himself.

“I think they want to contain them, and thats why they seem agitated and why things happen around here.”

I tried to sound indifferent. “I bet things always happen around here. I’m not sure why this would seem special.”

The man’s smile widened.

Then, I noticed something. Maybe it was just me but…

Behind the man a giant paused before walking past him. Like a sort of hesitation. The type of hesitation you get when seeing someone who could seize power here if he wanted.

Hm… maybe this was only my imagination.

Still, somehow it felt like he was a third mystery I had to solve at some point.

“And who would you mean with ‘they’ anyways?”

“Ah, that is the question, isn’t it. Who is who around here.”

I knew some of the history around here. At least the recorded parts. But I decided to act stupid.

“There’s just the Shaman and those who live around here?”

He clacked his tongue once. “Something tells me you know better.”

Did he just sounded disappointed?

“You show up twice in places where there is trouble and…”

“As did you.” I bounced back.

He chuckled. “Fair. Could it be we’re on the same mission then?”

“Mission? I mean I’ve had missions before. I’m not sure I’m on a mission right now.”

A long silence told me I may have just fed someone with information he was after. Stupid. Now I was exposed as someone acting in the name of… of who actually? The commander? I didn’t even knew his name. And I assumed the commander worked for the Shaman. Right?

I’m not sure what the man in front of me thought.

Did it even matter?

My instinct told me… it -did-.

[leviticus]

“I need to make me a map I guess.”

“A map?” The stranger asked me, genuinely curious.

I flicked a wrist outward. By map I didn’t mean a geographical map. More like a… how should I call it? A political map? Practical to follow how the relations work out here.

“I’m not going to burden you with the details.” And I have no intention on letting you in on my business, I thought.

The man didn’t seem offended. Unless he exactly understood what I meant by making a map…

“You know what could be a good start?” he said.

I looked as casual as I possibly could.

He grinned. “Where do adventurers always meet before they set out after making plans?”

I stared blankly at him.

“I’m guessing at a campfire?”

“Close! At a tavern!”

He was actually right about that. I never visited a lot of taverns in the past, save for the few in Suzail. I never liked to drink, but taverns were places where grudges lived or were exchanged. A visit at the Horn could be perfect to learn a thing or two. If those missing giants had caused problems, somebody at the tavern might be happy they’re gone. And happy people talk.

One thing would be important though. As soon as people realize an investigation has started, they tend to change their behaviour. So, the best information exists before anyone realizes I was looking for it. No one should find out about my mission prematurely, including this stranger.

In a way he irritated me. But he was -useful- at the same time. The tavern was after all his idea.

I don’t -need- him though. I don’t like needing anyone I can’t categorize.

Perhaps he can do the talking, while I watch the room?



As we stepped into the tavern I understood I hadn’t seen it all yet. The Horn seemed a place where worlds collided. First of all there were the massive beams supporting the roof. I never even seen trees this tall with wood this thick. Underneath this epic roof most of the furniture was oversized, and I bet even those chairs weighed more than several humans together. As giants and ettins walked about, floorboards creaked beneath every step, a nearly deafening sound to my ears when it happened nearby. There were a lot of ongoing conversations between all sorts of races while the mix of languages was mentally draining. Somewhere in the back an ogre attempted a song.

It sounded like a dying ox…

I clenched my jaw.


I… or rather -we- found a seat near a wall. An old habit of mine as I liked to observe places where I entered. Especially when I was new.

A tiefling serving girl deposited a mug in front of me.

“Eh, I haven’t ordered anything yet.”

She glanced from me to the man next to me and back. “First one’s free.”

“Huh…?”

Before I could proceed she was already gone. I stared at the man next to me.

“How did she know I was new? And since you didn’t get any…”

He shrugged. “It’s part of their job?”

A fair point. So I took a cautious sip.

And I immediately regretted it.

Like someone had fermetted a saddle.

I watched the serving girl laughing from a distance.

“Yeah… you are new for sure.” The man next to me said. “That’s an old joke. Wouldn’t drink it all the way. You don’t wanna know.”

I set the mug down as calm as I possibly could. But deep inside I was very angry.

The myth that I could walk in here pretending I was one of them had just exploded. Thanks to an ordinary serving girl.

Thanks to yourself… Jezebeth, you goose.

Luckily the stranger never seemed to judge me.

Just at the very moment my gaze shifted back to the tavern wench, I noticed something.

One particular giant entered and voices around me dropped. Not by much but enough to notice.

I wasn’t sure this was a first thread as it was merely behaviour and not information. Still, at times behaviour could be reliable to work from.

The man next to me noticed I had noticed.

“Something up?” he wondered.

Alright, time to test this guy.

“You tell me,” I said.

I saw how he glanced at the same giant.

“Ah, interesting.”

I frowned. “Is it?”

The man nodded as he motioned. “That giant is the brother of one of a group giants missing.”

“Missing giants? Something important?” I asked.

The man shrugged. “Depends on who loses their sleep over it I guess.”

“Oh? To whom could such event be important? Family aside as that is understandable of course.”

He looked directly at me. “To someone who sees anomalies as a chain of events.”

I held his gaze for a moment before reacting. “That sounds like a complicated way of saying -someone- is worried.”

The stranger chuckled. “I guess. Most people wait till there is a fire before worrying.”

“How about you?”

“I’d start worrying when I smell smoke I suppose.”

Somehow his reaction irritated me.

My gaze shifted back to the particular giant who now stood with a small group.

I brushed my chin. “Brother, you said?”

“Mmh, half-brother more likely. Giant families can be complicated.”

“May he know something about his missing brother?”

The stranger shrugged. “At least a thing or two?”

“I see, so… then… why isn’t anyone talking to him about this case of missing giants?”

The man looked around the tavern. “Maybe people around here think that asking questions may place them on a list?”

The lowered voices made more sense now. Nobody seemed afraid to be in group with this giant. But they were careful around him.

The stranger next to me reached for his mug. “Perhaps you can talk to him. After all, you’re new.”

“I should?”

He glanced at me. “No… but that’s exactly what could make things interesting.”

“Hah, how would you know I like interesting things?”

The man smiled. “Because you’re here less than a day. And because most newcomers end up here during their first days, looking for a bunk or get drunk as they regret where they are.”

His eyes drifted from me to the giant. “You seem to hunt questions.”

“Maybe I’m just curious.”

He shook his head. “No. Curious people -only- ask questions. You however are watching while you ask.”

I started to dislike this conversation.

“I still don’t know who you are,” I remarked, expressing mild annoyance.

His gaze briefly met mine as an unpleasant feeling crept over me.

“Me? I’m the commander.”

I blinked twice. “That’s… absurd.”

[leviticus]

“No.” I said.

“No?”

“I already met the commander.”

“Ah. You mean the man behind the desk.”

I nodded.

“Did he threw your papers in the fire?”

“Eh… yes?”

The man reclined some on his seat. “I’ve already read them before you arrived.”

This I wasn’t expecting.

“Lord Vacran sent me a copy.”

So this must have been my Dreadmaster’s plan days before I was ostrasized? Well, at least this trip has gotten a little interesting. The missing giant case suddenly had become secondary.

After this reveal some things started to dawn on me, and in a way it made sense.

“So you are testing me.” I stated rather than asking.

“Oh? Is this what you consider testing?”

I narrowed my eyes. “If this isn’t some sort of test, then what is it?”

The man looked around a moment before his gaze returned to me.

“Observation.”

“Observation?”

He crossed his arms. “What would you do when a new piece arrives on your Lanceboard?”

“Heh?”

“Oh, you don’t play it?”

I shrugged, then answered : “I suppose I’d figure out what sort of moves it could make before using it for something important.”

His eyes lit up. “Ah, so you do play.”

“At times, with Lord Vacran.” And sometimes with my lover, who is…

Why in Bane’s name was I even discussing pawns on a board with this man? I should feel even more insulted. I was a soldier and I had been on the path of becoming an officer. Not some bloody-...

“Vacran speaks highly of you,” he said, interrupting my thoughts.

That surprised me more than anything.

Yet I remained composed in front of him.

“He also speaks highly of sieges engines.”

The man chuckled.

“Sounds pretty much like him.”

My fingers drummed against the table surface.

“So you knew I was coming.”

He nodded. “Months ago.”

Months…

So that was before Suzail, before the portal affair began slipping from my grasp, and before my death and resurrection. Also, before Vacran stripped me from my rank.

The whole revelation sat uneasily in my stomach.

One burning question.

“Why?”

The man tilted his head, a faint smile touching his lips.

“You ask the wrong person.”

I folded my arms.

“But you know.”

“Probably.”

Not that answer I wanted.

The smile on his face remained as he asked,” I’m interested in why you think he did this.”

I stared at him.

Why did every answer and every reaction of this man became another question?

I wanted information.

Then I started to wonder what he wanted. And Lord Vacran.

I leaned back, my hands flat on the table. “I think you want to understand how I reach conclusions. I think reasoning for you is often far more valuable than answers. Ever since I met you you’ve been turning this conversation back towards me…”

The stranger simply looked at me. His smile was now a little less amused than before.

He lifted his mug, and looked over his drink at me. “Most people spend their first week here trying to impress me. You’re quite different indeed. And it’s only been less than a day.”

“Exactly.”

He chuckled soft at my reaction and took a sip.

“And I’m not finished yet.” I leaned towards him, lowering my voice.

“Do… folks around here already know you aren’t a Banite?”

[leviticus]

The forest felt differently immediately the moment I saw it. Not necessarily dangerous, but… ‘wrong’ to my usual experience. From the eastern bank of the Stojanow river I watched the wind moving through the trees, yet the leaves shivered only a heartbeat after its passing. As if the trees had a mind of their own on when to agree with the breeze.

I understood then why this place carried its name.

The Quivering Forest stretched from north to south farther than I could see. I was told it stretched from the foothills of the Dragonspine Mountains all up in the north to within a few miles of the city Phlan down in the south. Most of what I could see were dark pines mixed with older trees who were twisted by age and magic I could not explain.

I only knew it had been planted as a small group of trees, and it grew to a large forest in less than 80 years.

I also knew I had to move inside to find answers. A tracker assigned to our party crouched next to me near the remains of a trail.

“Old..” he murmured. “Too large for humans, too deliberate for animals.” Then he nodded. “Giants, three of them. Passed here, headed that way.” He motioned at the forest.

“One limping,” he added then.

“So, they just marched openly into that bush over there?” I waved casually, with a flavour of skepticism.

The leader of our group turned to me. “Unless you have other ideas? The marks are quite clear.” He sounded irritated.

I ignored him as my gaze drifted towards the trees.

It was as if the forest stared right back at me.

Ridiculous.

Though I felt as we had stepped into somebody else's territory. And I had no idea whose.

I rose and brushed dirt from my gloves.

Well, whatever be of it, those giant tracks continued beneath the shadows of the trees. So we didn’t exactly had anything else to go with, and thus I shook my head at our leader.

The first few hours inside the forest proved uneventful. However, after a time…

The tracker slowed his pace and crouched again.

“Something new?” our leader asked.

The man in front of me simply stared at the ground. A strange feeling crept up on me.

“What?” the leader demanded once more.

The tracker scratched his beard. “They don’t leave the trail…”

Nobody in our party reacted.

The man pointed. “I mean, look at it.”

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to see.

“The straight line?” he motioned behind us. “Ever since the shore?” Then he shook his head.

“So?” one of the other mercenaries asked.

“That’s not how giants tend to walk?” I filled in.

The tracker rose. “Exactly. During all that walk they never stopped to hunt, no wandering off, no signs they paused to eat. Hell, there aren’t even any signs they argued.”

Our leader’s expression darkened. “Like they know exactly where they are going?”

Wind moved through the canopy above us, and once again the leaves continued moving after the breeze had passed.

I found myself glancing upward. A crow watched us from a brand. Another one further ahead. Both faced the trail. In the distance I saw a third.

Hmm…


We resumed walking. No one else noticed so perhaps I was imagining things.

Time to time my eyes drifted across the branches, and the only thing I noticed was a squirrel frozen upon a limb. Like it watched our group before speeding up the tree and disappearing.

A thought crossed my mind, and I blurted before I realized : “We are following these giants. But what if someone else has been following them before us?”

They all stopped, our leader not hiding his irritation. “Make your point.”

The tracker looked at me and then turned to our team leader. “She means that perhaps someone has been hunting them before us. It might explain the straight line in those tracks.”

“Someone… hunting… giants?” The leader looked around, clearly unsettled by the idea.

I lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.” Then I looked at the tracker. “Can you read any signs of panic in those tracks?”

The man frowned. “They kept a certain pace, but I can’t tell.”

Our leader motioned. “What about tracks of others?”

The tracker shook his head. “As far as I can tell, none. The tracks are fairly clean.”

I motioned up at the trees. “Unless they weren’t followed over land.”

“What? The trees?” the leader asked.

I shrugged. “That, or the sky.”

Nobody answered immediately.

The tracker glanced upward, but our leader didn’t. He gave me this look as if it was my fault and I had just widened the problem.

After a moment he exhaled sharply. “Wonderful.”

The tracker rubbed the back of his neck. “It wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’ve heard about this forest.”

That got everyone’s attention.

“Oh?” I asked.

The man hesitated,” Stories, mostly stories. But well, it happens people disappear out here. So, why not giants.”

The forest felt quieter than before, as if it listened with us.

I looked up and spotted another crow.

“You noticed them too?” the tracker asked me.

“I guess so, but they are birds and birds do live in the forest.”

“Agreed,” our leader said,” And this was more than enough delay. We’ll proceed.”

Just as we turned around, something cracked in the distance. Something heavy. The crow that sat up on a branch flew off.

I saw how our tracker froze.

Our leader grumbled. “What now?”

The tracker raised his hand.

Silence, as we all listened.

“Perhaps it was a tree that fell over,” he murmured.

“Or something moved and then stopped suddenly.”

Me suggesting that possibility made them nervous, and for some reason I enjoyed that thought. Fear was always a wonderful thing to control minds.

Our leader turned to me, his face a little heated. “Jezebeth, when we are back from this situation, I’ll have y-…”

I interrupted him. “-If- we get back. But hey, the good news is we are together in this situation. The bad news is, it is a shitty situation.”

He stared at me, and just as he was about to retort a second crack echoed between the trees.

Up until now I’ve been enjoying the discomfort of the group. But this time a chill crawled down my spine.

It hadn’t sounded like a footstep. More like the sound of wood bending under tremendous weight.

I looked around. This forest suddenly felt vast, endless, a maze of wood, leaf and shadow. Most of the people in our party reached for their weapons, not drawing them yet, but making sure they were there and within reach.

Through instinct people reveal so much. Mercenaries reached for their weapons when they were frightened. Veterans reached for weapons when they believed they were needed. Me and the tracker seemed to belong to the second category.

Another long moment passed.

Nothing. Just the wind moving through the trees again, with the leaves shivering several seconds after.

Then the tracker spoke quietly. “I don’t think it’s giants.”

“No, and a giant wouldn’t exactly be terrifying to us, right?” I turned my head and winked at our leader. I made no attempt to de-escalate his nervosity.

He growled but instead of putting me in my place he turned to the tracker. “Then speak, what is it, man?

The tracker motioned. “There, do you see it? That tree wasn’t there earlier. And the color is slightly off.”

The treant spoke before I had the chance to react.

“You are late,” the creature sighed in the same way like the forest did after the wind blew through.