Chapter 92: Honeymoon March (Patreon)

Willem was very glad to finally lie down in his stiff bedroll and go to sleep. He was proportionately displeased when he was woken up in the middle of that sleep by someone poking his cheek.

Sarah crouched over him, peering down with her black and red eyes.

“I feel too terrible for this to be a dream.” Willem sat up, rubbing his eyes groggily. “Why were you poking me? Did you have a bad dream?”

Sarah shook her head. “I’m saying goodbye.”

Willem narrowed his eyes, immediately focused. “What?”

“I know what lies in store if the king and his cronies make it into Avaria. I want a different outcome. That’s why I’m going to sneak past enemy lines and make it to Avaria ahead of time. I’m going to try and enact the changes that I’ve always dreamed of.” Sarah rose. “And that’s why we’re parting ways.”

“This is the first time that I’ve been snubbed because my partner has to work. Now I know what it feels like.” He slapped his face a couple times, shook it fiercely, and then stood up fully awake. “Do you think I’m that easy to get rid of?”

“Well… yes,” Sarah said. “If you come with me, the king will label you a deserter. He’s killed men for a hell of a lot less than that. What’s more, if you continue to help me, you’ll be labeled as a traitor. What I want isn’t necessarily in alignment with the king.”

“And?” Willem leaned in.

“…and that means that everything that you spent all your time building will go to nothing.” Sarah gestured behind them. “Your businesses, your relationships, all of it. You know that it won’t work.”

“But… you don’t strike me as a betting woman. You go with the safe option—take a look at me, after all. You can’t lose if you choose me. With that in mind, I’ll bet you think that this is going to turn out well for you. And if you don’t think it will turn out well, that means you’re planning on doing something stupid.” Willem shook his head. “Given your wanton disregard for your own life, there’s no reason for me not to go. The king can call it desertion. I call it a strategic reallocation of human capital.”

Sarah stared at him icily. “You don’t even speak the language. How could you possibly help?”

“We can roleplay your fantasy. You can say that I’m your handsome slave recently captured in the battle, and parade me about as your trophy,” Willem said.

Sarah snickered, and her cold gaze softened. “And what if all of this has been my elaborate ruse? What if I’ve been setting up the armies of Ravenveld for a trap, and then I sell you into actual slavery for a handsome life extension?”

Willem shook his head. “We’ve been down this road before. You’ve already decided that a long life lived without me isn’t a life at all.”

Sarah looked perplexed. “Don’t you have any attachment to this kingdom?”

“I could recover from a bankruptcy, and can mend any damaged relationships that would amount to anything.” He reached out and slapped her face twice affectionately. “Losing you to some fool’s errand because I couldn’t sacrifice a little comfort would hit a great deal harder.”

Sarah swatted away his hand and then paced around the room. “I should just leave you here. There’s no way you could make it to Avaria without me. But…” She let out a long sigh. “Very well. Let me show you the special slice of hell that I was born into. I can show you my favorite memories, like the place I was whipped, or the place that they starved me to teach me discipline.”

“Lovely honeymoon,” Willem suggested. “So… what next?”

***

Willem and Sarah left when most of the camp was asleep, traveling through the underground tunnel wreathed in her shadowy magic. It proved to be a much less difficult task than Willem had anticipated—her illusions proved an immense boon for stealth operations. Sarah’s magic may have been limited in application, but for its specific task of disguising and espionage, there was nothing better.

Along the path they saw the ramshackle efforts of the Avarians to reshore their defenses in the wake of the onslaught of the army of Ravenveld. Fortifications were meager, their efforts predicated on the fact that they couldn’t hold back Willem’s onslaught. The only thing that was truly a notable obstacle was the towering cyclops blocking the exit. Even from a long distance, Willem could feel its intense mass of aura radiating outward. The cyclops known as Thrall was like a nuke packaged down into a mountain of flesh. Willem was almost glad that he didn’t have to stick around to help fight this thing.

When they eventually first saw light, Willem was surprised to realize that it was day outside. It felt like night, though. The biting cold seeped into the tunnel, and even before Willem had made it to the exit he was under the impression that he was too lightly dressed—until he remembered, of course, his aura kept him warm. After walking past marching armies wreathed in illusory magic, they stepped out into the open.

Willem saw the land of Avaria for the first time.

All before him was a barren, flat stretch of land, carved by ice and worn down by centuries of wind. The ground was a mix of frozen soil and jagged stone, and even thought it ought to be warm this time of year, snow dotted the landscape. There were no rivers whatsoever. Sparse trees dotted the landscape—short, twisted things that bent under the weight of constant frost. Willem counted three.

In Willem’s eye, Avaria resembled the harshest reaches of the eastern steppes—vast, open, and merciless. The wind cut low across the land, carrying ice and grit that looked harsh enough to flay exposed skin raw within minutes. There were no forests to break the gale, no hills to soften the horizon—just an endless sweep of pale tundra and black stone. From here, Willem could see only a few villages, and they barely qualified to be called as much. The settlements were small and low to the ground, built more for insulation than beauty.

Sarah led the two of them down a secluded mountain road, avoiding the massive lines of reinforcements that were coming to supply the frontline. The reason why Sarah had been so insistent on killing that lich was because he was the only one that might have been able to detect their passage. With his absence, they proceeded unmolested.

When the two of them were finally alone, Sarah dispelled her magic. “Here we are.”

“Looks like hell,” Willem remarked, taking it all in. He’d visited Mongolia before, and ventured beyond Ulaanbaatar. This place looked less hospitable than the steppes. “You weren’t lying.”

Sarah’s breath turned into steam in the air. “Most of Avaria is flat, frozen, and useless. You can’t farm it, and the ground’s too hard for roots to take. The wind strips the topsoil clean before anything has a chance to grow. You’re lucky if moss will take.”

She turned her head slightly, eyes fixed on the distant ridges. “The only real fertile land we have hugs the volcanoes. The ash makes the soil rich, and the heat keeps it just warm enough for crops. There are valleys that put even the most productive farms in all of Ravenveld to shame—you’d think it was another country, if the air didn’t still smell like sulfur and burnt stone.” She paused, then added dryly, “Those are the places where you’ll find the oligarchs. They live in some of the grandest constructions imaginable, while millions of slaves congregate around slums at their base. They’ve tamed the volcanoes’ eruptions, using them only to their benefit.”

Willem looked on me at her period “And where were you born? Point it out.”

Sarah shook her head. “The capital. You can’t see it from here. It’s based around the Fount of Avaria, which is the closest thing to a normal city that this land has. It easily has two million people, the majority of them slaves.” She looked him in the eye. “My mother is a broodmare, bred for generations to produce high-quality stock like myself. She lived a life of relative stability, safety, and comfort while her children went off to die. Most think that’s an ideal fate, but I beg to differ.”

“I thought you said that your kind strung along your mates for nine months before eating them after you give birth,” Willem said ponderously. “You said your mother ate your father.”

“She was forced to, as it results in a stronger offspring,” Sarah confirmed. “My father was a nameless slave chose for his physical traits alone.” She gave him a one-eyed glance and admitted, “I lied about most else.”

“I get it. Not exactly fun for light conversation.” He studied her. “What’s the plan?”

“We wait until nightfall,” Sarah said decisively. “There’s some place that I need to go, but passing through these flatlands in daylight would be a death sentence. They’d spot us from miles away. So… let’s seek shelter,” she said decisively.

***

Sarah bounded across the icy flatlands of Avaria in the dead of night, while Willem looked up at the stars. Despite everything, the stars were incredibly clear here, and bizarre phenomena like the aurora borealis shone brightly. It was a mystical, harsh land, and Willem was glad his aura kept him warm. It felt solitary, lonely. It was difficult to imagine spending a life here.

“City coming up,” Sarah said. “Vel Karak. Black Crown, in Ravenveld’s tongue.”

Willem craned his body and looked ahead. The city rose out of the dark like a lighthouse in a calm sea, its tiers of black stone and ash-brick glowing faintly in the night from the starlight illuminating from above. Steam poured up from vents carved into the cliff face, casting the upper terraces in shifting halos of white and gold. At the summit, the mansions of the oligarchs glittered—palaces of crystalline windows, marble balconies, and sloped copper roofs polished to a shine under magic lanterns arranged in beautiful patterns.

Below, the contrast was immediate. Thousands of hovels clung to the rock in chaotic clusters. Though devoid of snow, their shanty walls were patched with cloth, mud, and stone. Fires burned right alongside vents of foul-looking smoke. There were no streets—only narrow channels through dangerously close-together homes. Statues made of gold looked down upon this slum, almost mocking them. Willem could see dozens of manmade wonders in the mountains, built by the slaves that they looked down upon.

“Why come here?” Willem asked.

“My sister,” she said simply.

“You on good terms?” Willem asked hopefully.

“No,” Sarah answered, slowing slightly. “But she shags one of the disgusting pigs that rule Vel Karak, and he lets her wield more power than most slaves ever could. He’s a lot like you, in that way.”

“Hmm.” Willem nodded, not goaded in the least. “Maybe you can ask her for tips when your day comes.”

Sarah walked on through the dark toward the grim city ahead. She was too serious for indignance, and that made Willem give his focus in turn.

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