Her Mantle Upon Your Shoulders: Part 2


 * This story is from Old Age Canon. Some of the lore may have changed. Author: WinterAnswer

Previous: Her Mantle Upon Your Shoulders: Part 1 | Continued: Her Mantle Upon Your Shoulders: Part 3

Sequel to "His Shadow Upon Your Fate." The cub was airborne now, tossed into the air by her mother's strong arms. She yelped in fright as her body twisted in motion before it enviably slammed down onto the warm ground. The child convulsed in pain, trying to lift herself up, stumbling, before her mother barked at her.

"Akuna, for the sake of the gods," Rupland growled, shielding his gaze with his palm in displeasure while he watched from the doorframe of their dwelling. "Don't be so damn rough with her.  Please."

The little cub's legs quivered as she rose to stand, hands balling up into fists. She tried to focus, ignoring the pains in her side.

"Rough?!" Akuna blasted at her mate. "That was not rough!  Rough is getting your head slit open with a club!" She could see her cub's pupils widened with fear when she spoke those words. "Come on, little Brunka," she smiled, taunting her daughter. "Come on and make me trip in the sand for once."

Brunka let out a tempered growl, igniting her wrath she had inherited from her mother. She charged forward, feet tossing up the sand around her. Akuna waited for the child to close in on her and with a swiftness she sidestepped out of her path.

She swiped at the child, but was then surprised to find her hand slicing through empty air. She was even more surprised to see her child ducking and spinning, her foot rising up in a kick to slam against her cheek. Akuna's head jolted at the force of the attack, but she soon jumped back a few lengths lest her cub desired to assault her with a second attack on her. Indeed, she did as she ran up with arms and legs flailing about looking for an impact.

Akuna retreated back, giggling at each of Brunka's misses. She pressed for another attack with a punch and missed again. Akuna struck while her daughter was caught in the motion of her jab, striking the cub at her rib cage with a hefty kick. The Shigu veteran considered it gentle.

Brunka was pushed back off her feet, her back crashing to the sands. Akuna watched as her cub tossed on the ground in pain as she tried to gain back the air that was kicked out of her lungs.

"Come now, Brunka," she said, circling around her child with a grin. "You've been hit with much worse, no need to make a fuss about it." A few might have considered her smile to be malicious. The locals, walking by and watching from the cobblestone road that treaded in front of the sergals' home, certainly looked at Akuna with a slight disgust at her gruffness towards her child. Even Rupland regarded his mate's intensity with a heavy grimace.

Every morning with the sun's rising grace, his mate would wake their only child before breakfast to spar. First, it was with hands and feet, kicks and punches. Next, they clashed with wooden spears and practice swords. Yes, he agreed, to forge a honed battle prowess, you needed to be stern and constant. But it made him cringe to watch his only cub pummeled by her own mother.

Again, the child picked herself up from the sands and took her fighting stance. She was hardy, Rupland saw, but Akuna was quick to test her. The little cub had already gained enough disapproval from her mother when she awoke them at night, haunted by her nightmares. Of battlefields and warring northerners and southerners. Of Shigus and Reonos maiming each other. The child had experienced it all during her first months of life, watching from the pack on her mother's back she was carried in.

Rupland had always watched his mate and newborn child during those days with anxiety, during both times of battle and times of peace, but Akuna never seemed to be concerned. Instead, she only gave heavy grunts and boastful laughs while she did away with any southerner infantry that came at her. Akuna had hoped those years would prime her child into a fearless warriors. She was disappointed to find it had the opposite effect.

While the two Shigu females took arms against each other with their false weaponry, hisses mixing with the echo of wood smashing against wood, Rupland prepared a fine breakfast of milled grain, dry meats, and water. Such was appreciated by the three Shigus considering they had been living off just milled grain and very little meat during the last months of their campaign. Hell, Rupland thought, it was better than he had when we was a child of the city.

Flames licked around the bottom of the suspended pot in the fireplace, near boiling as Rupland added the cuts of jerky and grain to the water. He was no cook, he knew, but the mix did create a fair type of soup. The taste was also aided by the multitude of spices he had purchased from the market.

His mate and cub came in after their exercises, tongues hanging from their mouths before they became filmed with saliva at the smell of the soup. They all devoured their share selfishly, Brunka not sounding a word of annoyance. The taste took her mind off the new bruises underneath her gray fur.

Akuna belched wholesomely, licking her lips before flowing to her feet again with her child in tow. Rupland was not far behind after putting out the flames of the fireplace and capping the soup pot for later with an iron lid. The door clicked as it was locked, the key dropped into one of the many pockets of Rupland's jacket. He and Akuna parted for the morning and much of the afternoon, a copy of the key settled in Akuna's skirt pocket. Daily duties needed to be adhered to.

Rupland gave one last glance at their dwelling:  a two-story house crafted of wood and topped with a metal roof. Inside were two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a toilet. All linked together with indoor plumbing. Each day, he had to realize he never dreamed of such for himself and his kinship. Indeed, it was unpainted and much of the roofing leaked when it rained and some of the paneling was loose on the sides, but it was more than they ever prayed for. Akuna did well claiming it as their own once the previous owners had flocked away when the Shigus arrived.

"How courteous of those cowardly birds to give us our new home," she had said. She would still complain of the Nevrean smell that occupied the inward walls of the house.

The town of Rellon was a welcoming place, mostly out of fear when their Shigu detachment happened over the northern sandy hills. They looked for shelter, food, and the residences of Rellon donated such lest the northern sergals take it by force. A portion of the Nevrean population quickly scurried away when they realized their visitors were settling down for the time being.

It wasn't of their choosing, many of them would say. The main army of the Shigu had been split. General Rain Silves had thought splintering her forces would press the southerners to spread themselves too thin, but her plan had borne little fruit.

Wait. That's all the Shigus could do now. To wait for orders. To wait for another time to attack the southerners. To wait for their General.

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The enclosing structures of the town drew away as Akuna and Brunka jogged towards the outskirts of the town. Low, one-storied edifices stood a good hundred paces from the gates of Rellon, tails of dark bonfire smoke reaching for the wide, blue sky that hung overhead. Before long, Akuna could see a row of young northern sergals awaiting and at attention before the cluster of huts and tents that housed the hundreds of their Shigu brothers and sisters.

Akuna grinned at that. They were waiting for her, the esteemed veteran that had survived numerous battles with southern infantry. Her scars certainly showed it. They needed her, she told herself, since so few were willing to train the young and inexperienced that had never had a southerner brandish a weapon against them in bloodlust or even seen a comrade cut down in conflict. Most bared the shame of having smooth and uncut hides. Such unproven children, Akuna mused. She aimed to fix that.

"Is not the Captain coming with us today?" Akuna then heard the cub at her side, the child peering upward at her mother for an answer.

"No," she said bluntly. "It seems Captain Kusno went off to visit his so-called homeland with little Drig," the female warrior sneered. "His shame would be unbearable if the General came here to find him gone, abandoning his kin."

"Why does he leave?  Doesn't he know it's wrong?" Brunka had remembered previous times the Captain had left for his homeland to see his kinfolk. He had said that instead of sand that the ground was covered in plants, grass. The child had seen such before, but only in sparse patches that were coarse against her feet. She had dreamt of it at times.

"He knows, but still disregards the duty we had been handed.  He lacks focus even in the presence of danger we face each day." The words were not meant to scare her cub, she took them to heart. Yes, she admitted, there hadn't been an attack or an actual battle in years since they settled within the arid territory, but she knew the blond-furs were waiting. They were testing their patience, yes, lingering until the blood in the sand could not be seen and then strike. Much of the detachment had become slothful with the passing of many months, but Akuna was looking to keep their guard up and toned, regardless of the wait they were forced to endure.

"But," Akuna had continued, "as long as I'm here, we'll be ready for any southern surge that believes we have been bested.  We will prove them wrong.  All of them!" She showed a smile at the small one, beckoning her onward towards their awaiting bothers and sisters.

The other captains had arrived as well, looking over their own squads with studied glances. They sighted Akuna and Brunka as they came within range of the Shigu encampment, giving respectful nods of the head that Akuna returned.

Akuna eyed her stationary squads silently, counting heads and the condition of each soldier. She could see which had not polished their armor and others that allowed their posture to slack. A slouching male had his abdomen pounded with a single hard tap by Akuna's fist and he immediately straightened up with a grunt. Another had to have the side of her face slapped before she held her muzzle up and forward.

Aside from the usual drone of activity the Shigu encampment gave out, the four squads Akuna was responsible for were still with silence. Forty-five sets of eyes were trained at ahead where she examined them, waiting for any orders she might dispense.

Akuna much enjoyed the tension they emitted. Several were a head above her, but few could match her girth and the density of the muscles that convulsed underneath her gray fur. No more waiting, it was time to start the day.

"All squads," she barked at everyone, "ready yourselves for twelve rounds at the Ring.  As always keep in formation and do not let me find you getting behind.  Understand?"

"Yes, Captain!" every row rang, voices echoing in the sweltering air.

"Squad red, take the lead!  Go!" And the leftmost squad was at a runner's gait, heads and tails bobbing up and down as they made for the beaten circular track a few paces in the distance that was the Ring. Each circulation was to the equivalent of two rekusus and every squad was required to complete twenty-four rekusus for the first drill of the day.

Clouds of sand and dirt spat from each of the steps, tongues lingering further and further from their mouths with each lap they made. There would be those that lost speed and earned a quick swipe from the striking rod that Akuna wore around her belt. Brunka, whom ran with her much older brethren, knew from first-hand experience that one slap from her would stink for days.

"Quiet your gasping throats and get yourselves back to the barracks!  No one here wants to smell your stinking breaths!" The barracks served as the homes of the majority of the detachment, built from wood and metal the Nevreans spared to them. They had first arrived with only fabric tents and pallets. Whether out of pity or fear of them, the Nevreans gave what they could to the sergals to house themselves from the elements. Sand storms were hell to those with no shelter.

"Alright, today let's have squad red fight with blue and squad black face off with gold." The groups of Shigu split off into their respective clusters, each soldier prepping themselves for combat.

Like with her cub, Akuna had the squads fight hand-to-hand first before they worked their way towards using weapons. Two circular clearings were created in the middle of the two combined squads. Two fighters were picked and ordered to engage each other until one either surrendered his honor or was declared victor.

Akuna merely watched each group grapple and thrash in each others grip, taking time and again to show her soldiers proper techniques and strikes.

"No, no, no," she growled at a green-furred female who had a male's arm gripped taut along her torso, "against where his bones meet!  Pull and strain!" The female did so and gained a sharp yelp from the male. "Yes!  Yes!  Good!"

Brunka would accompany her mother's side as they overlooked the steady progress of their brethren. The child could hardly see the pairings that fought against each other through the many bodies that crowded her line of sight, but she could certainly hear their struggled hisses and growls.

"Hold!" Akuna held up a hand and her soldiers became quiet. She stepped inward towards the circle that was ringed with both squad red and squad blue. "You!" She pointed towards a less then lanky example of a northerner and told him to approach the clearing. Brunka already knew where this was going. "Fight my child," her mother ordered the male.

Akuna stood off at the side of the circle, leaving her child alone in the middle of them all and before the male soldier her mother had chosen. The male was clearly one head taller than her and seemed to be confident he could best the smaller child. But time and time again, Akuna was there to tell her not to allow height or strength lessen her desire for victory.

"The Captain is a short one too, yes?" she reasoned some time ago. "Even he showed me by stature and muscles alone could not grant me triumph.  Your head needs to be honed as well."

As Brunka displayed her fighting posture, she remembered her mother's words.

The cub pounced, slashing with her clawed hands and striking out with her feet. The boy in front of her jumped back further and further, taking no effort to dodge her attacks. She snarled at him, angered that her hands and feet only flashed through open air. "Attack, you damn fool!  Attack!" she heard her mother yell out, but not towards her.

The male sidestepped her and placed a foot in front of Brunka. She quickly found herself in the sands, chest down. She didn't wait, rolling, snapping to her feet again, ready. The boy waited, earning another growling remark from Akuna. "Attack her, damnit!"

Annoyed, the male went forward in a jab, aiming downward at Brunka's head. The girl easily ducked out of the way of the strike and retaliated by implanting her fist in the boy's lower chest. She heard his breath leave him with a puff and he buckled down. She found her chance and struck with her left at his neck. The male fell, churning with his arms around his stomach.

Brunka waited, never allowing her guard to lower.

"Damnit!" Akuna blasted at the male. "Get up!  Stop acting and actually fight her!" The boy's eyes opened and he seemed more eager to rise to his feet. "If you think going easy on my kin is a way to win my favor, you are vastly mistaken!" He could see she was completely serious and held up his arms in defense.

The cub attacked first again, greatly desiring the favoritism that her mother spoke of. The boy was more willing now, his strikes quicker and more vicious. He mimicked her snarling expression, cutting into her hide with exposed claws. But his strikes continued to project an awkward air considering he had to aim so low to hit her. And each time he extended himself too low, she was there to gave him a slap, elbow, knee against his sides, stomach, and ankles. Finally, with a decisive clock to the chin, the male lost balance and couldn't rise again from the ground to face her.

The crowd of their northern brethren cheered for the cub, much to the dismay of the male that was handed defeat by such a younger opponent. The child then found her mother amongst the soldiers and waited. Akuna allowed herself to show a small grin and the child's face lighten up when she sighted it. Still a long way to go, the warrior female thought to herself.

The daily exercises continued, aspects of conflict moving on to spears, pikes, and swords. And each time the squads grouped together to hone one another, Akuna pressed her child to join in on a few fights. Regardless of the first, second, and third victory, defeat was sure to raise it's head.

Brunka's opponent, a black-furred female that appeared reluctant to smile, delivered two lightning fast sword slashes to her neck and stomach. The contest was declared over, Brunka dead. Akuna had imagined if the cuts had been actual, her child would be sullied with her own blood and her organs would have fallen from her ruptured abdomen. A morbid and painful thought, but it came second to the thought that her child had just lost.

Akuna's arms crossed over her chest, and her child could spot the glare of disappointment that was trained right on her. The cub would attempt to gain victory again that day with two more bouts, but each time he was deemed defeated, swords slashing against vital areas of her body.

Sparing carried on along with Akuna's instructions. She lingered and listened, observed. Each day she made it a priority to learn another technique. She even humored herself to volunteer as a spare mate for a few of her student troopers. A few needed to be told to actually attack her, and those that did found she was none too soft on them. A few bleeding cuts would suffice.

Brunka would sit and watch, her mother giving tips and observations to her. Like most cubs, her attention seemed to wander off, but a tuff of the ears from her mother was sure to bring her back from any daydream.

The initiatives were hefting their sharpened spears now, targeting a row of upright logs peppered with several holes from direct hits. Their aims needed to honed as well, every one out of seven finding it's mark. Akuna desired everyone to be experts in every drill regardless. If she could adhere to that goal, the southerners would have little chance of overwhelming them. And, maybe, she mused silently, she could catch the attention of the General whenever she decided to return with further orders.

"Mother..." Brunka's subdued voice crossed through her ears, breaking the haze of Akuna's own daydreaming.

"Yes?" she said, keeping her snout pointed towards the direction where the squads attempted to pierce the logs with their spear-tips.

"May I...go now and play?" Her ears dipped with hope and her smile showed an eagerness.

Akuna's head turned upward, realizing the position of the sun. It was about that time, she thought to herself. But... "Has something slipped your attention, Brunka?" she asked the child.

"Uh, what?" was the obvious answer.

"Two losses," she reminded her, holding up two fingers on her left hand. "And that means?"

"Oh," the cub's ears dipped even lower, this time in sadness, "two laps around the Circle."

"Think I would forget?  Assume I am stupid?"

"No," the child snapped back, hearing the annoyance in her mother's voice. "I just...didn't want to use up all my energy running.  I don't want to get tired with my friends."

"I see you running with them," she said without looking at her. "You seem to be energetic even when you need to run four laps.  Think I wouldn't notice that too?"

The child groaned, thinking as if she couldn't escape her mother's ever watchful gaze. "Two laps and then I can go?"

Akuna peered at Brunka and again found her looking at her with a hopeful expression. She gave a singular nod. "Two laps and then you can go.  Get home before the sun sets."

The child's eyes widened, her face stretching into a grin, excitement growing. "Yes, ma'am," she said, turning in the direction where the Circle laid. Akuna quickly spat out a noise that forced Brunka to cease her trail and turned back to her. "How do we say good-bye?"

"Oh!" The child's spine straightened and her left arm shot up, her hand placed over her left eye. The Shigu salute.

"Good," she smiled. "Now, go." And the girl was gone, kicking up sand with an intense hurry in her step. Akuna turned back to her squads, her attention now solely focused on them and their progress.

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Predictably, he would strain, but it was just the start of the day and his muscles were still boasting a hefty amount of energy. He ignored the pain in his shoulders as work turned into repition. The wagon was heaving with cargo and each wooden box needed to be taken from the bed and settled inside a Nevrean's business store. Rupland had put together the female's name was Sushoo, but his work didn't require him to know anyone's name. Only lift, move, and carry. Mundane, yes, he had to agree if someone made the conclusion, but it was work and it paid.

From the thin spaces in between the nailed boards of the crates, Rupland could spot various items. Fruits, mainly. Valu berries, aclt'as, raras, and many others. Red, brown, and yellow skins and shells met his eyes, beckoning his mouth to water. He could smell them too, even the rotted ones. Like the pain in his body, he forced himself to ignore the sensations the fruits provided.

Rupland clambered into the shaded back of the wagon, taking the last few of the crates to Sushoo's back room. Off in the back corner of the wagon, he found a few valu berries that had escaped their wooden prison. He picked up and rolled the soft red berry between his thumb and forefinger before popping it in his mouth. His teeth crushed it and juices flowed over his tongue. Sour with a tinge of sweetness. Very good.

Looking back at the wagon's tailgate, no one else could be seen and he gathered up the twenty or so berries into one of his pockets. The last of the crates were then heft away into the back of the Nevrean's store.

"Fast work for one sergal," Sushoo remarked, her eyes trained on her open palm as she counted out thirty bronze runks and handed them to Rupland.

"Work is work," he said, recounting his pay. "Thanks for the coin.  If you need any other work done today, I am still available at your whim."

The Nevrean's brown feathers vibrated with her shaking head. "Your work is done here today.  Come back tomorrow.  Maybe I'll get another load in and you can unload that too.  Give you some more coin, yes?"

"I'll do that." Rupland gave a nod and took to one of the town's winding roads, moving towards Rellon's outer gates to catch a bit more work again today. While he walked, he allowed himself to indulge in the berries he had taken, savoring each one like a treat. Today's lunch.

Rupland might have considered theft to be in his blood or more likely just a learned skill. It was a required trait for a street child, but now such wasn't really needed to sustain his livelihood. Nevertheless, at times a few things would catch his eye and a little helping never hurt. Nothing too big or noticeable, especially a handful of berries.

He had already accumulated sixty runks today, the coins jiggling within his breast pockets in rhythm with his walk. He had handled many imported supplies that had been transported from the Tonzu mountains. Aside from food, he had lifted timber, steel, barrels of clean water, wine, and ale, and clothing. He worked alongside Nevreans, Agundars, and other northerners who found manual labor to be an accentual need to get by in recent times. The goods needed to be handled carefully, like a newborn. He didn't need a Nevrean shrieking and cursing at him for destruction their shipment, and he certainly didn't need the reputation as a clumsy worker. Even furthermore and most dire, he didn't need his mate blasting in his ear if he didn't come home with his daily pay.

Rellon was on the southern border of the Sailzane Desert, a town of Nevreans bore into a split hill of dark rock that would provide shade for many homes if the sun was in the right position. Between here and a road that snaked through hundreds of rekusus of parched wasteland was the glorious city of Gold Ring. Thus was the reason why you were likely to see many wagons and caravans past through the town before shuffling onward to their destination.

"Not staying here," an Agundar driver told Rupland after he asked if he was offloading his goods inside the town. "Just passing by, going to Gold Ring."

Typical, Rupland thought. The road the Agundar and his passengers were on led right to it. The driver was aged, skin wrinkled by both age and the ever present sun. His tired eyes were fixed on the trail before them.

"Ah, Gold Ring," Rupland continued to jog at the wagon's side. "Fine place to go, been there myself, but would you mind giving a few runks my way before you move along on your way?  Your path will surely remain open to you and your cargo and people safe."

Blue eyes turned to him, staring with concern and what might have been anger. "Are you threatening us, sergal?  I don't believe that would be wise." The Agundar placed a hand over his dagger's hilt that was attached to his side.

"No, no, no," Rupland quickly answered. "Not at all!  I'm just telling you it wouldn't hurt to give a bit.  Are not good deeds rewarded eventually?"

The old Agundar's gaze became heavy with consideration. Before long, his slender fingers slipped into his pocket and Rupland's keen ears could hear the clatter of coins. The Agundar lazily tossed the bronze coins his way, three dodging Rupland's grasping hand. Quickly picking up and pocketing them, he waved at the still-moving wagon.

"Many thanks to you and your kin, Agundar!  Keep safe and a good road under your wheels!" They gave no sight or sound that they heard his good words, but nevertheless, Rupland had gained a few more coins.

Later in the day, with the hot sun crossing the sky in the passing of the hours, Rupland had found another opportunity. An arriving caravan had accepted his help, leading him and two other laborers to a large building sporting glass walls and potted plants growing on it's windowsills.

Such was the cargo as well: plants. Many different types of plants. From the tall and thin to the short and shrubby. The majority displaying a vibrant tone of green.

"Careful with every one of these," a thin Agundar told them, her tone sharp and serious. "Carry them by the pot and do let me see you break any of their stems."

Rupland and the others went to work moving each of the plants into through a large opening in the building's side. The roof was low and completely composed of squares of glass, light streaming in to grace the plants already housed inside. It was muggy in there and the vegetation was filmed with a mist.

Rupland carefully placed his pot down, leaves tickling at his face. He scanned the inside of the building, eyeing each of the plants that were stowed away there.

"A lot of plants," Rupland said to the female Agundar as he past her and took another potted plant from a wagon. "Farm food here?"

She shook her head. "Medicine."

"Medicine for what?"

"Curious one, you are," she remarked with a cock of her head. "Well, medicine.  Just medicine.  We use the seeds to treat many ailments and diseases.  They can cure headaches too."

"Oh," Rupland said as he now examined the plant in his hands. "Intriguing."

"Not to mention," the Agundar continued, "these plants have a history with our legends.  They're called Visoc's memory.  In our tales, we are told Visoc was a garden paradise and these plants grew there before the Expansion."

"The Expansion?"

"Too long to explain.  Leads into other things and that would take all day.  Keep unloading them off and in there.  Just don't drop them or break their stems. "

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The young soldiery did well with their exercises and deserved a bit of rest. They became loud with discussion, their words muffled by mouths full of jerky and bread. Akuna sat with them, wetting her dry maw and quieting her quaking stomach. She also listened on to her troops' banter. She caught hints at their daily activities, at their complaints of their sore muscles, unruly family members, and the hot sun. She might have caught whispers of whining towards their leader's sternness too, but she allowed that to pass.

Indeed, she had been rough with them, but it was the same treatment she had received when she first taken up the mantle of a Shigu warrior. She only wished that she had the certainty that she was doing right by them. They needed a test of courage and will. They had taken part in only a handful of battles and those had been little skirmishes before the Shigu campaign of the Sailzane Desert was put to a halt until the General gave the order.

The anxiety ate at her silently, unable to know when that time would came when the General would return and they would be marched over the dunes again seeking victory. It didn't suit her or her troops well to just remain here while the Reono and other southern clans recovered from their constant efforts to wipe them out.

Akuna held to the fact that their southern cousins were weaker and little more than animals when compared to them. Shorter, thinner, with sparser manes and pelts, in all aspects Akuna regarded them to be nothing but an irritant and the only obstacle the northerners faced to reach the true glory of their race had once be in the eyes of Vilous. And yet came a realization that pressed into her like a sharp thorn through the pads of her feet. The southerners had proved more than able to defend themselves within the Sailzane Desert. They hid and evaded and nibbled away at the Shigu's advance. They had dispelled the Shigu's strength and strategy with childish tricks.

What had been, and still is, a daunting complication in their efforts was the sun's tyranny.

Akuna had believed they could brave it's rays, but dehydration proved to be a constant issue for the army. Their armor turned hot and added to their misery. It's effects wore on them, but many northerners found the solution in trimming down their thick and fluffy hides. No doubt it made the days more tolerable, Akuna admitted, but she considered the cutting of their manes to be a betrayal to their race. Their flowing locks were one of beauty, not burden and to look more like their thin-haired cousins was a travesty in of itself. Even now, she could see a few of her brethren had cut away at their manes to keep themselves cool against the heat.

"Uh, ma'am?" a timid voice said and brought the female Shigu back to the present. She whipped her head to the side to find the stare of Maklen, a very young silver-haired male that had started his battle training just before they found themselves here in Rellon years ago. "Are you okay?" he asked with concern at her clutched fists and agitated expression.

"Yes, yes, just fine," she quickly answered, unrolling her hands and relaxing her stiffened posture.

"Is something wrong?" the young male pressed further. "You looked angry about some matter."

Bless him and his observant eye. How they will work well for him in the time of confrontation, Akuna thought. "The thought of southerners forces my blood to boil," she confessed, scratching her gray muzzle with an extended claw. "It makes me fierce to know they are still out there convening while we just sit here and wait at their leisure." She bite down on her claw, attempting to control her worrisome thoughts. Her words had touched the ears of her soldiers and they greeted her with stares.

"Why don't you or Captain Kusno or Captain Sula lead us to them?" The one that spoke was Aska, a more than rowdy female that would mix play and duty with her war exercises. "Stabbing at logs that don't fight back doesn't sit well with me." Several of her comrades provided laughs at her sarcastic remark. Akuna herself couldn't help but smile as well.

"Indeed, it's not the same," she said. "Not anything like cutting into a little blond-hair, seeing their fur turn red." Again, she found herself deep in thought, enjoying the images of battle that flashed through her head. "But we're required to remain here and only here until we have received official orders directly from the General." It was the same statement they had been handed those years ago after arriving in Rellon.

"Why can't we decide for ourselves?" Maklen asked, sounding a bit mutinous by Akuna's ears.

"Because that would be disobeying the General," Akuna retorted with a snap. "We are a clan, we have to fight in unison.  If one of us begins the fight, what is stopping a southern detachment from attacking a group of our brothers and sisters who are ignorant to that fact.  Hmmm?  Understand now?"

"But how do we know the orders to cease the campaign is truly from the General?" Aska was quick to provide the counter-argument. "How do we know if we're just waiting here to be slaughtered?  The Reonos could be sweeping our brothers and sisters with death one by one and none of us are the wiser about it."

Akuna growled a slight snarl at the female's eagerness to question the strength of their clan. "We would know immediately if the southerners even drew one drop of blood against us.  Our messengers would have the news throughout the desert in less than a week and we would be up in arms against them without question.  We are Shigu and we conquer all challengers that face us."

Aska settled back, not willing to disagree with her statement lest she look foolish in front of her comrades. "So we still just wait here and sit?  How long do you think it will remain that way until we lose our patience and take arms against them by our own commands?"

"We have as much patience as the General has.  She is waiting for the opportune time when the southerners least expect our hostility.  Right now, they may think of us as castrated, crippled, but when we strike," her words were fierce and sharp, "we will prove them wrong."

Aska give a snort and rolled her blue eyes around inside her head. "She sure is taking her time, the slouch." The female's words were low, but Akuna had heard them all too well.

With a snout growl and a quick hand, the Shigu warrior lashed out at her student with her thrashing rod. Aska had caught sight of the hostile action and attempted to peel back, but the rod struck at the right cheek and she gave a yelp.

Two more strikes with the rod would do, Akuna thought, watching as Aska curled into a tight ball on the ground. She continued to snarl at her while her other students observed with interested and fearful eyes.

Akuna let out an enraged huff of breath, realizing she was grinding her teeth together. Her claws were out as well. She leveled and pressed the leather tip of the rod down onto Aska's temple, trying to gain her full attention.

"Don't ever let me hear you talk ill of the General!" Akuna's voice rose in volume, spittle shooting from her mouth with her sharp words. "Would you be as courageous if I had been the General?  Hmmm?  I don't think you would be if that was so!  And the rest of you!" she barked at the audience around her, never allowing the rod to leave Aska's head. "Even if the General is not in our presence, you will act as if she is.  She is our leader, our one and only chance to rise as the grand force we have always been and will be!  She is the one that made us realize our future as rulers and masters, fighters and warriors!  She is the one that crafted all the northern clans into one!  We are Shigu and she is the guide to our destiny!"

The air then fell silent, seemingly empty after the echo of Akuna's excited vocals had evaporated into the air like a small pool of rainwater caught in the light of the afternoon sun. She settled her heaving breath, lifting the rod from Aska's still motionless head. Slowly, the young soldier unraveled herself into a seated position, open palms sitting flat upon the sands.

"Now," Akuna placed the end of the rod under the young soldier's lowered chin, "will you behave or should I have you bond in the local bar and put on display for those feathery Nevrean males there?  I'm sure they would appreciate...the services you would provide." When she grinned, Aska only frowned, casting a sneering glare toward her leader. "Hmmm?"

"No ma'am," she responded in a pouting posture, arms crossed over her chest.

"Excellent, now," she then slipped the rod back into the loop on her belt, "let's get back to our rounds.  Muscles need to be hammered until they're strong." Her head scanned the sea of stares that her soldiers projected, ears pricked up in attention. Their tales lashed with anxiety.

"Up now!" she demanded and they hurryingly picked themselves up from the ground. "Let's not waste the light we are given!  Never waste what you are freely given!  Use it wisely!" Another set of words she borrowed from Captain Kusno.

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The tone of a bell rag at the motion of the door, Rupland pressing his way into the shaded insides of  a business store. He looked around at the rows of assorted tapestries, ceramics, and others items of the shop, eyeing a few with a curious eye. Smooth and polished surfaces reflected the light from the adjacent window.

It was past afternoon and Rupland had found much work to attend to at the requests of others. The movement of goods and cargo, the removal of waste and garbage, the delivery of items, and other activities.

The male Shigu found himself traveling from one corner of the town to the other, completing his tasks at one gate and seeking more at another. He looked for providers he trusted, ones that he had worked for before and were guaranteed to pay. It was not a pleasant feeling when hours of work had been done and not an ounce of pence was given. That's when he stole, taking as much as he thought his work was worth. But the northern male was not here at this particular store to do such a thing.

"Caklup!" he called out towards the back of the shop. "Are you here or at lunch somewhere?" he asked the shaded darkness there.

"I'm here!  I'm here!" came the muffled response before the creaking of a door opening sounded. Rupland could see the darkened and feathered shape of the shopkeeper through the ribs of sunlight that flowed through a window before him.

The sergal moved towards the back of the store. The shop was both business and home for the owner.

The old Nevrean blinked blankly at the sergal before him, his faded brown eyes projecting a tiredness about them.

"You've been sleeping, Caklup?" Rupland raised his brow with interest.

"An accident, really," he explained, pressing down unruly feathers that pricked up from his arms and neck. "Close my eyes for a second and this is what happens."

"Your door was unlocked," Rupland smiled a bit. "If I had come here later, you might have awaken to the crash of someone lifting all your wares.  Or," he giggled, "you might have awakened to the whole place emptied."

The Nevrean waved the statement off with a lazy hand and a equally lazy grunt. "No reason to think someone else would steal from me." He walked through his store with a wobble, making sure everything was where it should be.

"Are you playing down the value of your items?" Rupland followed him, watching the tossle of the Nevrean's exotically-colored tail.

"No, I am saying that I can trust people to not steal my things.  I've forgotten many times to lock the front door and awaken to find not a single piece of this place was gone."

"You sound to be too trusting of the people that live here," Rupland stated.

"Why shouldn't I be?  People are more likely to do the right thing if given the chance."

"That sounds to be a little naive as well," the sergal laughed.

"Naive or not, that is what I think.  What makes you think so differently?" The Nevrean craned his neck back to glare at Rupland with a subtle smile. "Should I be as untrusting as your mate?  Yes?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Rupland relented another laugh. "I'm just advising a bit of caution."

"How is your mate?" Caklup changed the subject. "Is she just as antsy with us locals as we are towards you interlopers?" The words were not meant to insult, just to joke, Rupland knew.

"As always," he answered.

"Ah, that is the root of all problems," the Nevrean declared. "Mistrust.  It leads to suspension and can give rise to misunderstanding and violence.  If trust was more widespread, then maybe you wouldn't be so quick to take defense against others.  Then we wouldn't have to lock any of our doors in fear of thieves."

"And what of the ones that are forced to steal?" Rupland then asked, gaining a odd glare from the Nevrean shopkeeper. "I was a child of the streets and it didn't matter much if I was mistrusted or not, I had to take my food from the homes of others so that I could fill my stomach and live.  What is the root of that?"

"Selfishness," the old Nevrean was quick to answer. "People should know there is reward in giving even if it doesn't fill your pocket."

"Oh?" A grin curled on Rupland's face as his hand reached and took a small statuette from a table, a miniature Nevrean figure clutching many tools in a haphazardly fashion. It was well-made and detailed, crafted from heavy bronze. "Then why not give me this?  It will not fill your pocket, but it should fill your heart with the goodness of your deed."

"Ah!" And the Nevrean was quick to snatch the item from his claws, clutching it close as if it were personal to him. Caklup only smiled at Rupland. "I am just a poor seller of odd items that lives day by day modestly by the purchases of his customers.  Even if I were to give you this," he held up the statuette, "how would it help you any further?  Are you teeth hard enough to chew it down?  If so, are the juices in your stomach able to digest it?"

"A well-made point, Caklup," Rupland had to laugh at the Nevrean's observations. "You said odd items.  Have you gotten anything of high interest lately?"

"Of high interest, yes!" the Nevrean boasted with a strong grin, setting the statuette back down where it had been. They strolled to the back of the shop with Caklup walking behind his counter to extract a few things from underneath. "Now this," he said as the object of attention was pulled into full view, "is an old relic."

Rupland recognized what the Nevrean held in both of his hands. The shape was very familiar. A firearm, a pistol to be exact, but this particular one was ancient and had been well-used. It's metal barrel was unpolished, rusted, and dented in places while the wooden handle was scratched and discolored with age. A relic indeed. Rupland wasn't even sure it could still be properly used.

"May I?" he asked, holding out his open hands.

"You may, but use care.  Fragile."

The metal and wood were cool against Rupland's bare palms and fingers, it's weight about equal to that of a lump of stone. With an examining eye, he turned it over in his hands. "Oh!  Uh, is it loaded?" he asked, his fingers unclasping from the pistol as if it suddenly turned molten.

The Nevrean cackled at the Shigu's caution. "By my Ancestor's, no!  The thing hasn't been fired in maybe more than two centuries!  The Agundar I traded it off said he bought it from someone that found it in a catacomb of ruins.  Even if you did pack the gunpowder down and loaded it, I think it would just explode right in your hand!"

"Oh." Rupland continued to look over the gun, sniffing at the end of the barrel, hinting at the scorched metal.

Next, Caklup revealed an assortment of old jewelry crafted from beads and bones. Earrings, necklaces, and piercings. "Finger and toe pieces," the Nevrean informed, the pieces of bones clattering against each other.

"Who made these?" Rupland asked, not sure if he would receive an answer. "Talyxians?"

"No, of my own people, but not of my own clan.  They most likely hail from some inner part of the desert.  They eat each other like...well," the Nevrean stammered as he locked eyes with the Shigu.

Rupland only smiled at Caklup's comparison. "Haven't done that in ages, though," he told him. "No butcher seems to sell or is willing to apprehend a southern corpse for our family." He joked, but he wasn't sure if Caklup knew such. He only showed an odd expression that was hinted with caution.

Caklup continued to show the sergal his newly acquired wares that he had bought from various sellers and vendors. Old writing utensils, more miniature statuettes, small boxes, charms and trinkets, and maps draw on crusted parchment. Most held a fleeting air of visual enjoyment about them, but none that could secure Rupland's business. There was a set of silverware, knives and forks, but he knew that his mate would question their value if he purchased them. Why buy metal ones instead of cutting them from wood without the cost?' Then came the dagger...

The scabbard and handle caught at the eye with the red and pearly stones that were embedded into smooth silver. Unsheathed, the blade showed the same expert craftsmanship. Each of it's silver sides mirrored Rupland gray eyes. The blade was supremely sharp as he drew a callous thumb down it's edge.

"How did you grab such a find like this?" Rupland asked, impressed.

"Street wander handed it off to me for whatever I had in my pockets," Caklup grinned. "She said she was starving and selling it was the only way for her to eat for that week.  The female said she had heard I paid well.  I'm not sure if I should be flattered or distressed at that." He laughed, claws scratching at his feathered neck.

"How much?" he asked, fully expecting the price to be more than however much he had in his jacket pockets.

"I've been debating that myself," Caklup answered. "How much would you be willing to pay?"

"If you are waiting for me to banter with you, I do not have the time or the coin for it," Rupland answered, his eyes never leaving the dagger's blade.

"Well, it is the only item you have asked about.  For yourself or your mate?"

"My mate.  She would love to use this in battle," he smiled, sliding the blade back into it's jeweled sheath.

"Battle?" the Nevrean confusingly asked. "You do know that the main purpose of blades like these are mainly to be shown, not used?"

Rupland threw his own bewildered expression at the shopkeeper. "Why make a blade only for show?  Are you saying that if I stuck this knife through you that it wouldn't kill you?  Or maybe it would break off?" The dagger was put between the two, crescents of sunlight from the window captured in the edges of it's precise stones.

The Nevrean shook his head, sending his feathers in a tussle as his hand reached to take the dagger from the sergal. "I am saying that blades like these were presented as offerings, gifts to high guards and advisors.  Heirlooms."

Again, Rupland would stare at the dagger that now laid in Caklup's hands. The Nevrean clutched it as close as he did, certain of it's immense value.

"Another time," the Shigu said softly, smiling. "Is that all you have to show?"

"That is the lot of it, and be sure not to have any loose lips about this," the dagger was held up before disappearing under the counter.

"Don't trust people enough to have it on one of your tables?" Rupland waved behind him towards the array of items set out on selves and stands.

"My trust is, even for me, at times, limited." Caklup gave a warning smile, the tips of his teeth bared into view.