Chapter 8 Part 1 of 5 (Patreon)

Chapter: Avegaaren

Rekha checked her gear for what had to be the fifteenth time.

“You’re going to wear out your storage ring that way,” Weebla said with a smile, knitting with her metal threads.

Rekha let out a breathy laugh, her worries seemed to be burning a hole through her stomach as she played with her fingers.

Cayleigh checked the edges of her axes. They all looked up, even Weebla as Sam walked over.

Rekha grimaced, at his expression.

“What did they say?” Weebla sighed.

“Plan is really easy actually, go to the ninth realm, bloody their noses, close down the tears in Avegaaren, then group together, figure out our next moves and do it.” Sam said with forced ease, “Well you know, other than the fact there is no damn plan at all. That’s literally it. We go into the teleportation hubs, we teleport into Avegaaren, spread out, kill shattered and tears. Call in the warships for support and push through the city.”

“Doesn’t seem that bad,” Cayleigh said.

Weebla’s look made Cayleigh’s head retreat into her armor. She stored her knitting away, her actions lethargic.

“Stay close to me.”

“What’s wrong?” Rekha asked.

“The Imperium while it controls the academy, the fighters are in groups mostly. Instead of planning this out like an operation, its being treated like a mission the mission hall might give out. How many party leaders do you have in your sound transmission device? You know the parties we’re going in with? You know where your wounded are supposed to go, if you deal with it, or call up a healer, or send them back to a healer?”

Rekha frowned, starting to piece it together as Weebla continued.

“Small gaps, small problems when you are dealing with five, ten groups, but there are hundreds if not thousands of groups, few that have worked together before. We have our mission, and little else. Now I have to make some transmissions.”

Weebla took out her sound transmission device and map.

Rekha sat back as several old Gnomes and Elves arrived in their corner of Cronen. Gnomes, given to frowning, dry humor and having a stiff upper lip looked older quicker, but the older they got the more ingrained they became with the natural world, the air around them was refreshing and calm, the ground became level and smooth with their passing, the elements greeted them as one of their own. Their wild hair styles and eyes reflecting the elements they had mastered.

Weebla’s own knitting, while innocuous to most, weaved not only metal together, but the elements, creating three star level gear.

Old Elves, well if an Elf looked old, they had to be closing in on millenias of age. Their beauty products were legendary across the realms.

Rekha knew Eli’keen had a forty-three step program every morning to retain his youth, and he was seen as older, but not old in the eyes of elves.

Seeing them, Sam and Cayleigh straightened and moved from their positions, Cayleigh grabbing Rekha and pulling her to the side.

Being next to these Elves, Rekha felt like she stood at the entrance to a small cave, yelling into the darkness beyond, and feeling her voice lost in the dark abyss beyond.

They both bowed their heads, Rekha joining.

“Hah, this your granddaughter Weebla? Must be hell on two legs, two axes! Not a mighty battleaxe.”

“I’ll give you a battleaxe Grog.” Weebla muttered.

Cayleigh snorted, a smile on her face.

“Give us a minute will you three,” Weebla sighed, sliding off of her crate and spreading her map on it.

The rowdy Gnomes and benevolent elves gathered around the table.

An Elven woman put her hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Mom?”

“You missed our last family dinner,” She said. A true beauty with a smirk on her face, she exuded grace, as she looked to Cayleigh.

“Good to see you Cayleigh.”

“Miss Avariose,” Cayleigh bowed her head with perfect pronunciation over that little tongue twister.

“Stay safe, seems the old battle axe is in a mood, musn’t keep her,” She hugged Sam. “Ah, you grow up so fast.”

“I’m Thirty two mom,”

“Took that many years to have you.” She sighed.

“Didn’t hurt for trying,” Another elf threaded his arm around her and waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, councilman Avariose, keeping up the Elven grace,” She muttered, age old love in her eyes as she kissed him on the cheek.

“Maybe we should try for our seventh?”

“Ughh, we’ll leave you to your talks,” Sam grabbed Cayleigh and pulled her away.

“I do so love grandchildren,” The councillor said.

“Dad!” Sam increased his pace.

“Councillor, general,” Rekha bowed to them both, unable to keep the smile from her face.

Sam’s mother pulled her into a hug stunning her.

“The family dinners aren’t the same if you’re not there,” She said, tightening her grip on Rekha.

Something caught in Rekha’s throat as Sam’s mother released her and her husband smiled at Rekha.

“Our home is yours, don’t be a stranger.”

“I’ll do my best,” Rekha said.

They tilted their heads with knowing smiles.

“He was a brilliant a man and as proud for you as the daughter he never had,” Sam’s mom squeezed her shoulder and they headed to the crate surrounded by vagabonds, ruffians and legends of myth.

Rekha joined Cayleigh and Sam.

“Looks like the old Battlaxe is going make an appearance,” Cayleigh’s eyes shone, a grin threatening to split her face.

“Battleaxe?”

“Gran’s old nickname, she has an old battleaxe my granddad made for her. She wielded it becoming one of the four Gnome Generals in the retaking. Now she’s one of two left. Grog is the other.”

“Grog was a general?”

“Appearances aren’t everything. The Elves and the Gnomes still have a few legends and secrets in their sleeves.”

“Why do they have generals still?”

“They do work for the Imperium, but nothing is forsure in this world.”

“What are they going to do?”

“Plan a battle.” Cayleigh sighed. “Not many Gnomes and Elves left anymore, got to make sure that we don’t waste one life.”