I stood at the railing of a slightly rocking ship as it cut through the water, looking back at the Triad receding into the distance. My feelings on leaving the fortress were mixed. Like so much in my life, I had no choice in the matter… Though it helped that if I was given the option, I would have, without hesitation, joined Kanieta in moving south.

Why? Because I was fucking tired of constantly being told what to do. I wanted to be free and go my own way, and going south was the closest I could come to that at the moment. Discovering long-lost and forgotten secrets was something that also appealed to me… Even if I ended up dead in the heart of a forest that no one had set foot in for thousands of years.

But, as was made abundantly clear in the meeting with Legatus Panta and Inquisitor Keeper, my wants and desires didn't matter to anyone within the Republic… My first instinct was to add on to that by also saying within the Kin as well, but I was reasonably sure Franklin cared at least a little about what I wanted. Whenever he was bothered to think past his own stomach, that is.

Kanieta… I wasn't sure if she cared. I wanted to think we have gotten marginally closer, but her throwing me into the ritual to rip out my soul is a problem I've been kind of stuck on for a while now. It was a thought in the back of my mind every time I looked at her, and it didn't help that the experience was what made me a better caster. It was like a rock in my shoe, always nudging me for attention.

Sure, everything turned out well, and her intentions were ones I could appreciate, but if we judged everything by those standards, anything was acceptable so long as most people came out of it okay. Not to mention that the argument completely disregards emotions, and my mentality wasn't so developed that I could look past such a significant personal event.

However, all of that was just a distraction. What really weighed on my mind was how elves were treated and their curse. Treatment that, assuming what I saw in the crystal was true, occurred due to my ancestor's actions and desires. Worse, it was partially justified… perhaps even deserved, at least to a point. But descendants shouldn't be the ones eternally paying for their ancestors' actions. At some point, the sins of the past can no longer be pushed onto those in the present, and in my opinion, that time has long since come and gone.

But the core issue with the elves' treatment wasn't rooted in any kind of mortal resentment or beliefs. Olimpians' minds were being influenced by a curse lingering within the world itself that had persisted for countless years. More than that, it adds a whole new aspect to the Mad Scholars Wall, to the origins of Olimpian history, and how it carried on to this very day. If the world was still turned against the elves, was it still influencing everyone else's thoughts? How could one even start to fight back against all of that? Where do you even begin?

By ripping everyone's souls out and putting them back into their bodies, I thought with grim amusement. Ultimately, everything that made me special right now came down to that one event. Something I wasn't sure could be replicated, and I was even more leery about attempting. Subjecting someone to that type of agony… wasn't something I could do.

I was still waking up in a cold sweat every other night, screaming at the memory of the all-consuming suffering. Not to mention that I was eighty-seven percent confident that the only reason I came out of it with a mind was that my willpower partially put my soul back together after it was ripped apart, and I got monumentally lucky.

The kind of luck that comes about once in a race's existence, and is the definitive turning point in its history. Or so are my thoughts on the matter.

In short, it wasn't something that could be replicated. Meaning I would have to search for another way… and I didn't know where to start. But the question remained: Why should I concern myself about something that I couldn't change?

Because no matter how much I tried to forget, some things just lingered in the back of my mind. A wound I can't stop probing. A scar that I glance at every time I pass a reflective surface, reminding me of what happened.

Blowing out air, my eyes focused on what I was looking at, and I saw a river of women and children on shore marching with a line of wagons. Really, there could be any number of tragic reasons for their presence, but it was one of the most mundane ones possible.

While I was annoyed at having to walk to the docks and wait for hours to be told that the departure had been postponed for another day, multiple times, I kind of expected it. Leaving that soon after the agreement between the senator and Kin seemed rushed, all things considered. After four days of delays, during which I had to repeatedly help Kanieta, we were finally on our way, and I now had something to look at, though it was repetitive.

Point of fact, what is the difference between a legion out in the field and in a long-established fort? A legion in the field has to transport and protect thousands of women and children along its journey. A hassle that may seem unnecessary or even idiotic at first glance, but the logic behind such actions had a high degree of cruel brilliance to it.

For as long as I can look back at the historical records, the position that legions have held in Olimpian society hasn't really changed. It's a mobile city designed for women and men to meet and have kids while serving as shields for the greater realm. This is a fact supported by the terms that people have to serve.

While the minimum that someone has to be in a legion to remain a citizen is a decade, that fact wasn't always the same as it is now. In the past, the time required to serve went up to a century for men. Women are another matter entirely. Even to this day, the terms of their compulsory enlistment are forty years, though that time can be shortened in several ways.

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Women generally do not have a mentality suited for combat, but having them around for the extra mental power could, and has, easily turned the tide of battle. So, most women end up within the legion as camp workers, who take on nearly all of the everyday domestic tasks required for daily life. On the other hand, they could sign up to compete for a position within the 8th Cohorts of every legion or the archer centuries to shorten their terms to ten years, but grabbing one of those places was hard, as the spots are limited.

Most will not make the cut for one reason or another, so they will end up as camp workers. But if they ended up having a child, a decade of their term of service would be knocked off, an act they can repeat until the term reaches a minimum of ten years. It's a policy that dates back to the early days of the Republic.

A time when tens of thousands of Olimpians were being killed every year by beastkin hordes if the Republic was particularly lucky, but the number was usually within the hundreds of thousands. The population needed to at least remain stable, or we would simply lose by attrition. Over the centuries, where there were peaks and drops in attacks of the beastkins, the policy has remained for one main reason.

If you want a man to fight his hardest, put him in front of his wife and child. There is no motivator quite like it. Add in that if the men are killed, there is one last line of defense between whatever city is positioned behind the legion in the form of the women protecting their children. An event that has been recorded as happening more than once. Then again, I have never found a place that outright states that fact, but it's hinted at heavily. What is made abundantly clear is that with the cold calculus of war being what it is, that policy is never going away.

And now I get to watch the miles of marching legionaries, wagons, camp workers, and legion brats making their way south… Actually, as I watched the faces turning to look at me, filled with yearning or annoyance, the journey was gradually becoming more enjoyable. Nothing like appreciating not having to march when you are watching others doing it from a boat.

"Good," Said Inquisitor Keeper, drawing my attention out of my thoughts, "Now that the last of you have joined us, I will be telling you our mission." As he spoke, I felt a wave of mental energy rush out from the reaper, blocking out all the sound from outside our little group.

Turning, I was greeted by the rest of the deck, immediately spotting the nearby inquisitor facing nine others. As it turned out, the reaper chose to take Sathera, Jim, Joxin, Bellious, Anooha, Stephan, Vincent, Ritchor, and — the understandably irritated — Kathren. Past them and taking up the center of the deck was a canopy with Senator Ponpti, Kanieta, and Prefect Quineeta amiably chatting while sipping wine, with servants standing around them.

Or that was how it appeared at first glance. I doubted the truth was close to that, given how Kanieta's tails were flicking. Not that I was an expert on the matter. What I did know was that Nareta's tails were doing the same thing while she stiffly stood next to Kanieta, her face too blank. If I had to guess whether they were both happy or irritated, I would put my coin on irritated, and do my best to avoid them.

Now, I didn't know the intimate details of the situation, but I saw two possibilities. The first was that when Kaneita was told she had to go to Olimpia as a representative, she decided to drag Nareta down with her. The second was that Nareta heard about Kanieta's predicament and did something to rub that fact in her cousin's face as a progression of their never-ending petty and vindictive pranks.

Personally, I was leaning toward the second option, but I wasn't going to stick my head into that hornet's nest to find out. I also wasn't going to put myself in a position where I had to interact with the senator more than absolutely necessary, so staying at the front of the river yacht seemed like the best option.

To the side of that spider's web of interaction was the last person of note, who you could not ignore… no matter how much you currently might want to. Franklin was half over the side of the deck and was doing his best to pollute the river with his seemingly endless streams of vomit. But that was a problem for the crew and anyone who could hear his constant objections about being on Mother Forsaken water, which I currently could not.

"As I told all of you before," The reaper said, filling the sudden, deafening silence of the dome, "I have chosen all of you to join me on a mission to the capital, but I have yet to tell you what we are doing or why. Simply put, you are here to guard Green in shifts. Day and night, you will be tasked with watching and protecting him."

"Can I ask why we are watching an elf?" Anooha asked, her voice clipped, clearly indicating that she wasn't pleased with the idea.

"You can ask," the reaper answered, his tone just as short as hers. "But you have yet to prove that you deserve an answer. All you need to know, but have probably already heard, is that Green has managed to integrate himself with the Kin, and they trust his word above all others. To sow distrust and chaos into our budding relationship with the Kin, Panta and I believe it is likely that any dark elf forces present within the capital will attempt to kill Green."

"I understand, Inquisitor," the chastised scout responded.

"Good," the reaper said with a short nod. "Now, Anooha, you and your team will be guarding Green at night, so I would suggest that you adjust to a new sleep schedule over the course of this passage. Sathera, you and your team will be taking the day shift."

"And what will I be doing?" Growled out Kathren through her clenched teeth.

Turning, the large half-elf shrugged, and I felt the shield-blocking sound drop as he did so. "I'm not sure… I guess I could use you as a messenger. You grew up in the slums of the capital, right? You should know your way around well enough. It may be useful."

"Really? Is that the only reason? You have no other reason why you would want me here?" Kathren asked, her voice sounding almost hopeful for a moment.

Looking at her blankly, the reaper answered, "Your insinuation that I have alternative motives is not warranted or appreciated, as this is business. I would never bring personal emotions into business. You are here solely because of your skills."

"Oh, I see," Kathren stiffly said before turning and walking away, her back stiff as a board, following after Anooha's team. Blowing out a snort of aggravation, the Inquisitor Keeper stomped over the gathering of high-ranking people, apparently done with talking to anyone.

"So… what do we do now?" Sathera asked, her voice hesitant and uneasy due to the uncomfortable tension.

Shrugging, I turned back to watching the legion pass, "I guess we wait… and try to relax?"

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