Work Text:
Delora spotted them five minutes before she came upon them, a jolt of red, gold and blue against the pale, rolling sands of the Iron Plains. The path had been a blistering trial in the mid-summer heat - any breeze whipped up bitter grains of sand, and the sun glared at Delora from its imperious peak in the sky - but when was finding the Masks ever an easy quest? At Lucksprings she had received a letter to confirm that they were camped half a day’s walk from Anozel. The rest, as usual, was up to her to figure out.
She’d started with inquiries in the town. That was the easy part; a recent band of kohan wasn’t exactly hard to miss. It was tracking them through the sand that was the difficult part. The Plains shifted through the day, and if you were several days behind your quarry, any tracks could be erased as if they’d never existed. In the first hour or so out of the town there was still enough plant life for the ground and shrubbery to hold signs of movement, but as the palm trees and bushes thinned out, Delora’s task became more difficult.
Thus, it had taken her the better part of the day to track them. She was used to this dance now, and had made sure to rest under any shade she encountered, and to return to her last marker quickly should she change her mind about any leads. She rationed her water wisely, a task which she had found more difficult than anything a year and a half ago. As she finally spotted the group, she felt relief mixed with pride, as well as her nagging thirst suddenly become unbearable.
She heard singing go up as she came into earshot, in voices that were as hoarse and rough as usual. They had sung Come and Be Welcome to her last time too. They were a tough group, holding fast to tradition, but they had embraced her nonetheless and for that, she was always thankful.
“Sit, have some water, if you have any left.” Dihya - a tanned woman, ten years Delora’s senior - called out as Delora stepped up to the rocky outcrop that the Masks had made into their camp. Delora shrugged off her bags and dropped onto the blanket space that Dihya was indicating for her. “Oh, actually, well done.” Dihya commented, feeling Delora’s waterskin. “That’s almost as little as we’d drink.”
“Here, get your bowl, eat this.” Itri offered her some lukewarm stewed meat, which Delora took gratefully. Itri led the Masks, and had done so for half a decade. Though she resembled Luzia about as much as an orc did a rabbit, Delora knew the two to be kindred spirits. “You can tell us your adventures while you eat. We’ll camp here tonight, then head back in the early morning.”
Delora took a great gulp of water, and a big mouthful of food. The Masks were not big on pleasantries or any kind of hosting duties, but she instinctively understood their language of care. Have you drunk? Have you had that wound wiped? You’re looking pale, have some tagine. Want to talk after dinner? You’ve been quiet since your sister’s letter, come spar with me. It was similar to the hospitality that certain other nations had shown her, but it never felt out of place with the Freeborn spirit. “So,” Delora said, through her mouthful of food, “we fought in Feroz with three other nations.”
There were noises of approval throughout the group.
“The rest fought in Segura.”
This brought a mixed reaction. Delora felt just as divided. Certainly, there was a gratefulness and pride in seeing warriors from all over the Empire band together to help the Coast. There was also a profound sadness in seeing their nation in such dire straits.
“We were successful in both.”
A cheer went up from the camp, and a rowdy round of We Will March To Victory followed. Delora watched them fondly, but was very happy to eat her lamb instead of joining in. As the song came to an end, Itri prompted her to tell them about the battles.
“I don’t know the story of the Segura battle yet,” Delora told them, “I only know the one that I was in. Feroz. The conjunction took us to a Grendel fort in the East, within their lines. We were warned we’d be facing land sharks and heralds of Siakha.”
The Masks reacted as any good audience would, with disdain and booing. They both hated the Grendel and loved a story as much as any good Freeborn.
“Wintermark and the Marches started the assault on the fort itself. There was a small force stationed to the side of the fort, ready to surround anyone trying to take it. As soon as the main assault started, they charged and attempted to pincer and surround us - but there wasn’t enough of them. With the Orcs and some of the Wintermark, we formed up against them and stopped them getting round us. We spent most of the battle dealing with them, charging them, retreating, charging them, retreating.”
“Your Anvil generals seem to have finally learned how to command Freeborn.” Suero, an archer of a similar age to Itri, commented approvingly.
“Is it still the kohan who leads the Corsairs?” asked Guda, a newer, younger kohan.
“Aracelis leads the Fire of the South.” Delora corrected him. “The generals lead the Anvil Freeborn together; Aracelis takes the lead, and Vrael of the Redwind Corsairs takes the back.”
“Your old cousin.” Suero said.
Delora laughed. “I know what you’re trying to say, but he’s younger than me. Even when he’s in command, it’s hard to remember that he’s a grown man.”
Itri chuckled. Suero, who had joined the kohan later in life than most, had a small chip on his shoulder about acknowledging blood relatives. He was mostly respectful about it, but had found Delora’s temporary contract a bit hard to navigate, especially when it came to her existing family and her plans to return to them. “Delora, continue.”
“So, the physicks had organised before the battle. We shared herbs, kept the back of the lines active. I shouted my throat raw calling for Mazzarine. The fighting was hard. One of the egregores - Mariza - was brought to me with two broken legs. Those of us who could fight stayed alert to plug gaps in the line. It was an incredible bit of organisation. I remember Sadiq - he’s an older battle physick, he’s done the most to get us to work together - having to spend a lot of time with a young cambion from the Bloodgold Jackals whose horns took a bad beating. There was another Jackal who got caught outside the line - Raza the naga - but we got him back.”
“You said before that there weren’t a lot of physicks left in the Anvil Freeborn.”
“There weren’t.” Delora replied. “But I think a lot of people have heard about our losses at the Plateau, and they’ve stepped up to do their part. Like, my - my twin - she’s the hospital representative at Anvil - she went on her first skirmish.”
“Good for her!” Dihya declared, and all the kohan voiced their approval.
“Mm.” Delora was still reeling from seeing Florina decked out in her mage armour. Delora had already lost one sister, before she'd even had a chance to make up for lost time. She knew that a lot of Florina's decisions lately were motivated in part by grief, but Delora was still upset to have come onto the field and found her sister already in armour and just back from a skirmish. She had said to Florina at Anvil that it was about wisdom, that Delora’s death would have fewer ramifications for the nation, and Florina should be aware of her own importance. Delora knew that in reality, her worry was purely terror at the idea of living a life without Florina, and she was fairly certain Florina knew that too.
“Did you fight any landsharks?”
“I was too busy with the injured, but yes - the Anvil kohan have fought them before, and were excited to fight them again. I know I looked up at one point and saw Aracelis gouging one’s eyes out with Samu of the Tides of Zemress. They’ll be cleaning the blood out of their mail for weeks.”
“The more you tell me about Aracelis, the more I want to have syrah with her.” Dihya said, laughing.
Delora grinned. “She is fantastic.”
“I would like to meet these Zemress kohan. That’s fascinating.”
“They fight with the courage of any kohan.” Delora said. “And they’re good people. Samu has never been anything but encouraging to me, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know the rest of his group.”
“It’s promising to see them embracing the oldest parts of our culture.” Suero nodded, sagely.
“Anyway. We had to fight three landsharks and killed them all.” Delora tried to continue.
“I want to fight a landshark. Can we go to Feroz instead? We could take a landshark.”
“I want to make a necklace out of their teeth.”
“Paola, we can fight landsharks when we’ve driven the jotun out.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“What about the heralds?”
“They came in the second half of the battle.” Delora replied. “I - I don’t think we killed many, if any. They didn’t come to us. They waited for the grendel to - bring them - people.”
The Masks made noises of disgust.
“Cowards.”
“They are.” Delora said.
Sensing the change in Delora’s tone, Dihya asked, “did they take anyone?”
Delora hesitated to answer. Sol’s death had affected her in a way that was so much greater than what she’d initially confessed to at Anvil. As the days had gone by, it had not ceased to plague her. She couldn’t remember it in a logical manner. It came to her in impressions: the uncontrolled panic of seeing him on the sand at the grendel lines; flashes of a ruined, bloodstained mess where a face should be; running to him and Sadiq once he’d been brought back; the hope that they might fix him; the realisation that they couldn’t. Sometimes at night she dreamed of his death, but she saw Alix in his place, her face torn off and the sand flooded with crimson. Sometimes in those dreams she was sixteen again, her arm broken, her vision stained with blood, but this time Siakha’s heralds hunted her through the Plains. “Just one Freeborn. His name was - Sol. He was an egregore.”
There was a communal intake of breath, followed the shaking of heads and loud cursing at the grendel.
“He loved the kohan.” Delora said, not sure what to say, or what words could possibly describe the sheer energy and force of personality that Sol had. “He was so excited when kohan started coming to Anvil. He trained with them, went on skirmishes with them. Created his own paint.” Delora took a moment, noticing the crack in her voice. She wanted to tell his story clearly, with strength, and with the joy he had when he was alive. “When I - when he saw me, heard me talking about the kohan contract - I think - I think he was as surprised as they were.”
“But he supported you?”
“Of course! He was fascinated! He knew Alix - knew she was my sister. I think when he saw me, he realised that I felt obligated to fill the contract for her just as much as anything else. I think he saw the loyalty and love in that, instead of just the grief. And he never let that change how he saw me. Once, he let me use his own bow to practice.” Delora replied, smiling sadly. “We had a group session. And Dana and I had to heal him when he didn’t dodge quick enough and someone shot him in the leg.”
Many of the Masks laughed. “Merche did the exact same thing trying to teach Guda to shoot.”
“I did tell her I wasn’t worth the trouble.”
“We were able to bring his body back, and tell stories of his life. I...I haven’t known a lot of people like him. His funeral will be a great party. I hope they sing his favourite songs all night and get up to all kinds of mischief.” Delora smiled, again. “I loved that idiot. I loved him so much.”
“If he meant that much to you, Delora,” Itri said, “We will celebrate him with you when we go back to Anozel.”
Delora felt her throat begin to seize up, and her eyes begin to well. “He’d have liked that. He’d have loved to meet you. I’d also like to not start crying when I’m a day’s walk from water.”
Dihya patted her firmly on the back. “Can’t afford to waste water.”
“Any other news?”
Delora made a face, and paused for a moment. “Oh! The Empress is missing.”
The Masks didn’t react for a full three seconds.
“Wait, the Empress? Lisabetta?”
“What do you mean missing?”
“Missing as in like, kidnapped?”
“How ‘missing’ do you mean?”
“Since when?”
“I really don’t know anything!” Delora yelled, half-laughing. “I only found out about half an hour before I left. She must have disappeared on Sunday afternoon. People seem to think it’s a magical disappearance.”
“Oh, you mean, she disappeared herself?”
“Maybe. People seemed remarkably un-worried.”
“Well that sounds like a very responsible and politically sound move.” Dihya said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Yes, it...didn’t really impact the solstice much.” Delora replied. “And I suppose we can probably function without an Empress for a few seasons.”
“Well, it was her Military Council that sent the entire Empire to fight in the Coast,” Suero pointed out, “so maybe I will worry about her disappearance just a little.”
“That’s true.” Merche agreed.
“I don’t really have any other information. It really did happen very suddenly at the end.” Delora said. “I can tell you more about other things. We lost another kohan - a Zemress islander. His name was Artisanos. It was his first season with the kohan. He fought bravely on a skirmish and saved many lives.”
“Then we will drink to him, too.” Itri declared, and the rest of the Masks voiced their agreement.
“Xalvadora of the Harpies continues her quest for...her artifact.” Delora said. As much as she was unbearably curious about Xalvadora’s quest, she respected Xalvadora’s desire to keep the full truth of the matter to a small few. “They went on a skirmish, and came back...not cursed, but with some kind of magic on them? I think? The hospital couldn’t cure them, and we couldn't insight anything from them. I’m not sure what it was that was needed, but in the end we gathered a crowd outside the hospital and sang Freeborn songs to them, and they recovered.”
“Did she say what they encountered?”
“They don’t know - they had to keep their eyes down and not look at it, or they would be lost. I don’t know what it was that affected them so.”
“I hope when she’s found what she seeks, that she has everything written down.” Itri said. “I would pay good money to read The Tale of Xalvadora.”
Delora laughed. “I’ll suggest it to her, but I think she’ll probably be too busy hunting whatever she wants to find next, to write anything.”
“And what of you?” Itri asked. “What did you learn, in your time there?”
Delora fell silent. What did she learn? A lot had happened to her, both on a personal level, and on a nation-affecting level.
“Well, I learned not to take mead into a military meeting when you’ve only eaten a handful of bread and half a banana.” Delora started.
Itri cackled.
“I learned that people are beginning to recognise the name, ‘Delora’.” Delora continued. “People who know people that I know came up to me and already knew my name. I don’t know if there’s anything in particular I’ve done, other than just stick my nose into things.”
“I mean, that is exactly what I would recommend doing, Delora.” Suero laughed. “It’s not ship designing. It’s not hard.”
“I learned that I’m still capable of more than I’ve achieved already, and that sometimes I have good things to contribute.” Delora said. “I took the lead for some young physicks when the Academy took a conjunction to a jotun fort. They were scared, but I guided them, and ultimately they took to it like dolphins to the sea.”
Merche smiled knowingly. She was the oldest of the kohan, silver-haired and leather-skinned, and had forgotten more tales than she could remember. “I always think that when you are able to teach others, is when you have truly started to master your skills.”
Delora paused a moment to take in what Merche had said. “I learned that becoming an ex-kohan is of interest to people. Raza of the Bloodgold Jackals in particular was keen to talk about whether I’d be interested in their group.” Delora grinned a little. “Though he’s a naga, so I don’t know if he was serious, or just...being a naga.”
Clarissa had been silent until now. She was clearly amused, despite her raised, heavily scaled eyebrow. “He could, of course, be both. We naga know how to charm, but truthfully, most people die a kohan; those that leave usually start families, and leave this life behind them. Your kind may not be unheard of, but you are more a rarity than you may realise.”
“Yes, until Raza spoke to me.” Delora replied. “As for the Armada - the new Commodore approached me about the Sapphire Blade, the military position.”
Dihya, among others, looked unamused at this. “They think you’re ready for command?”
“I hope not.” Delora replied. “But I think that there’s a lack of military experience in the Armada now, and that Lilith sees me as the only option they might have.”
“Would you take the role?”
“Well, they have the moot at the winter solstice, and I’ll still be with the kohan - they might elect someone else, and I won’t have to think about it.” Delora said. “I can’t say that I wouldn’t like the opportunity to take the Armada by the wheel and help steer it where I think it should be going, but I hate seeing people given unearned positions as much as any Freeborn.”
“Enough about your Armada.” Suero interrupted. “What else?”
Delora thought for a moment. “I don’t think there’s anything you’d be interested in.”
“No?”
“Hm.” Delora wasn’t sure how to share this, or if it was something worth talking about. Nonetheless, she felt that she wanted to put voice to it. “I did learn...that maybe I’m more loved. Than I thought I was. If that makes sense? That’s - not relevant, though, is it?”
“You can absolutely tell us about it.” Suero said, with a softer tone than you'd expect to accompany his scarred and aged face.
“It’s little things. Maybe they happened before and I didn’t believe them.” Delora mused, hesitantly. “Vito - he’s not always the most affectionate. But he made sure to let me know that I was always welcome to stay. He almost seemed sad - I probably imagined it.”
“Are you imagining us being sad to lose you?” Dihya asked.
Delora blushed a little at Dihya’s frankness. “And Vrael - he told me - he ‘couldn’t wait’ until my contract was finished.” Delora looked upwards, still unsure how to react. “And he smiled so much when he said it! And Lilith said the same, in a less direct way. I thought that I’d been gone for so long, that it would take so much longer to - for them to want me around. But it’s always been immediate. They’ve never been angry with me.”
Dihya leant her arm over Delora’s shoulders and pulled her in for a gentle embrace. “That’s an important lesson, too.”
“Yeah. I feel a bit weird learning it at twenty-six, though.”
Merche laughed. “That’s no age at all, child.”
“I don’t know about these assholes,” Dihya said, gesturing at the group, “but I’ll miss you, and your ridiculous amount of pink clothes, and your constantly red nose. But there's no point sitting around and moping about the future. We can worry about goodbyes when the time comes. It’s afternoon now and we need to be packed and ready to set off at first light.”
“Thank you for your reports, Delora.” Merche said, and the rest of the kohan echoed her.
Delora nodded her head as if to say ‘no problem’, and then felt a small sadness settle in her heart. This was the last time they would get their post-Anvil tales. The Masks had been happy to listen to her the first time she’d come back to them, but somewhat uninterested. Now, they seemed to genuinely enjoy hearing the news she brought, whether good or bad. It had felt good to come back and spread the word to another corner of the Coast.
“We’ll need to contract you to send us news when you go.” Itri said. “I still have no desire to go myself, but it’s been good to hear first-hand about what happens.”
“I’d like that.” Clarissa said, and other kohan lent their voices.
“I’d be more than happy to keep doing it.” Delora said, her sadness partially soothed by Itri’s suggestion. As hard as it could be to keep in contact with any travelling kohan group, the Masks had found a way to do so that suited them. Delora was eager to take any opportunity to keep in contact.
“Then we’ll talk through the details when it comes closer to the winter solstice.” Itri concluded, beginning to stand up. “Now, let’s leave this solstice behind, and look to the present. We have jotun to raid. We have refugees to defend. We have six months to show you everything else we have to show you, which as we know by now, is much shorter than it sounds. A very short time to build your muscle again and to fix those bloody parries of yours.”
“Short, yes,” Delora quipped, looking at Itri with a smile, “but never dull."