Steel and Mana

I couldn't tell if the bobbing of the ship was stronger or not since we began sailing up the river, searching for the Third Pass as my Sovereign ordered. Still, writing down our findings was a chore that even I found nauseating, looking down while the world was going up and down with me... Ugh.

More than that... the ink dries slowly out here. The humid air, as summer continued to grow stronger, was making it increasingly unbearable. Or I was just simply getting impatient. No matter, before the others, I wouldn't let it show. Back to the notes... which I'm writing so that if we vanish in this maze of beasts and My Sovereign finds only wreckage after us, he'll have a straight line to follow through the mess. A commander doesn't leave puzzles for his ruler... If the simple prisoners could do it, those we sent on the Walk... Avalon's elite can do even better.

"Haaaah... I just wish we could finally find a clue, and stop sailing and switch to marching..."

Since cruising upwards, we've been pushing north on the main river vein. It was clear that it was originating from the mountains, from the melted snow; the question was simply whether it led us close to the Pass or not. At least, it was broad as a proper bay in places, but when we decided to try and deviate, following Nathel's sensory readings up an offshoot tendril, it could become tight as a gorge.

Four nights ago, we believed we found one that would take us up towards the mountains much more straight than the main one. It was a branch, with ample width and good depth for the first day, but then it turned into a slow, treacherous shoal that didn't show on the lead-line until it was too late. We almost got stuck in the shallow waters, with the mud and tree roots going into the river from all sides. It took half a day to unwind our mistake and another half a day to turn around and head back. Luckily, there were no attacks, no casualties, and no significant hull damage; just the frustration of losing time. Which wasn't always true...

I can't help but wonder how the main army is faring. Through the slit of the aft-facing window of my cabin, I can see the Authority's running lights at the back of the convoy... Are we still ahead of our Sovereign, or are we close to meeting, and will I have to report we couldn't find it? Well... it is a possibility. However, I am writing everything down, so I won't return empty-handed. I could at least present a proper map of the river we are exploring, with all the routes that are suitable for ship travel.

Flipping through a few pages, I reviewed the last of my drawings and added a few markings, reinforcing where we found the ruins of old towns that were overgrown by vegetation. Whenever we did so, we also ran into monsters, weird, eel-like ones, that not even Nathel's Seeker could perceive before attacking the ships. We lost a handful of sailors to them for the first time when it happened...

It led us into another offshoot of the river, as we arrived at a ruined river-port city. That one was not exactly an abandoned one, as it was used by these eel-things as a nest. The beasts had layered the banks with a mixture of glued mud and shell, creating tiers both underwater and above it. Dozens of the smaller ones stuck to the muddy slope, burrowing into it... We left none alive.

Polo's shoulder cannons swept the monsters' terraces, along with all of our cannons, as we made sure that what remained was nothing but a smoldering crater, wiping it off the map for good. When I judged it was gone, we continued, sailing past it as the offshoot branch slowly looped back into the main river. It may have been a waste of resources, but... it felt good. And after that, we didn't suffer any more attacks from eels, which was a big bonus. Maybe even if they were in the river, they no longer bothered with us... As for what comes tomorrow? I can't tell... But, hopefully, when I sit down again, I can write something exciting in my report.

Finishing my nightly duty, I stood up and decided to take a whiff of the air outside, even if it wasn't refreshing at all, thanks to how humid it felt.

"Good timing!" Nathel contacted me the moment I came out.

"Enemy?" I asked, already searching the black, dark currents of the river with my eyes.

"Can't tell." He continued, "The Seeker caught something... I wasn't even sweeping for it. But... It is too strong for a single big beast, Commodore. It is also too steady for a fight. It is a continuous magic signal."

"Malfunction?" I asked, thinking.

"Well..." Nathel muttered, considering the possibility. "If it's false, I'll clean the Rook with a toothbrush..."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Nat." Polo chuckled, joining in on the discourse.

"The signal is north by east-northeast from our present mark," He explained, simply chuckling after hearing Polo's words, "beyond the next two major bends. It could be a hive big enough to clog a river... But... It is too faint to be a local object. It has to come from further north."

And to be noticeable down here... Could the Gods' Formation? That was my first thought... Perhaps it is a reaction to the fact that monsters have come through? It was our first clue, and it was the most promising one at that...

"Keep moving and monitoring." I ordered, "It is better than sailing aimlessly..."

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.....

The Stormbringer drifted above the marching form of the more than a million-strong army, with the Khulman riders constantly fanning outwards from both of its flanks. They were like the flapping wings of a hawk as scouts returned and new ones rode out, creating a constant flow of reports and information.

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Tula-Khan Rhanak stood near the bow observation deck, enjoying the feeling of seeing everything from this elevated position... a strategic advantage he wanted for himself. But he knew that to ask for it, he would have to wait. Patience is a virtue after all... Turning around, at the strategic table stood General Oleg of Avalon, and the Khan could feel that the general was constantly keeping an eye on him... Which was expected, and he didn't even feel angry about it. It was a natural thing to do. What was not natural... was that next to him, watching with thoughtful eyes and folded arms, was Seltana.

"Report," Oleg said flatly to the waiting officers at the back, a routine the Khan was already familiar with, having come to these meetings daily. One scrawny-looking Avalonian kid stepped forward, handing him a thin folder of notations, which Oleg skimmed and summarized, handing it down to Seltana.

"The new sonar sweeps have been tested six times since Merlin implemented them," Oleg began, "Each sweep revealed scattered groups of beasts lying low near the riverbanks and the tree lines to our northern arm. Curiously enough, none engaged, not even after being discovered... Each time, the moment they realized they were exposed, they broke away and vanished into the undergrowth or fled across the flatlands."

"Our numbers are overwhelming..." The Khan raised a brow, stroking his tied beard. "So they run from you when you have the advantage... typical."

"Exactly so," Oleg shrugged, studying the projected map from the Imaginary. "We can locate them, but until they choose to strike, we cannot force a decisive engagement. Our size comes with the drawback of a fast reaction to scattering animals."

"Hmph," The Khan grunted, audibly displeased, "Then what use is your magic-eye if it sees only cowards fleeing into the dark?"

"It shows us where to trap them." Surprisingly, the one who answered wasn't Oleg... By the time the Khan looked at the source, Seltana had stepped forward, her chin lifted without fear before her father. Ignoring the looks, her fingers pointed at the projection, tracing the details, marking a route. "If the beasts always flee when they are exposed," she continued, "then we should set a trap. Their retreat is predictable, always opposite to where the ping came."

The Khan's jaw tightened, listening to her. He remembered this tone she was using... he had heard it when she was a child, hunched over her little wooden boards, pushing carved tokens around while declaring herself the great conqueror of some imaginary battlefield... Back then, he had dismissed it as harmless play she picked up because of watching him or her brothers. War was a man's business. His daughters' duty was to carry homes and more offspring for the bloodline of Toobu. Yet here she stood, speaking so openly, and to his shock, Oleg was not dismissing her.

"Explain," Oleg said simply.

"Let me overlay all the incidents," Seltana leaned closer to the projection, her braided hair falling forward across her shoulder as she gestured, ignoring her father's gaze, "When the sonar forces them to scatter, we already know their direction: away. But... scared beasts don't run in straight lines. They are always fleeing toward cover, toward terrain that gives them an advantage to hide."

"We are marching through open fields; there is not much cover out here, only the wild growths of wild wheat and grass." The Khan finally spoke up, challenging Seltana verbally.

"Yes, but the Khulman cavalry understands these instincts better than anyone." She shot back, looking into her father's eyes, "If our riders are placed in broad arcs ahead of the sonar sweeps, they can drive the fleeing beasts toward prearranged kill-zones."

"Kill-zones?" the Khan repeated, his tone a mix of curiosity and the strangeness of listening to his own daughter.

"Yes." Seltana pointed at the projection again. "Here. And here. We can set up corridors where Avalonian mechs can wait. Position our ships at these locations, where our riders can establish a fake presence... The beasts will run, but we can constantly use the pings to steer them. They would believe they are escaping, but in truth, they'll be herded. The cavalry can keep up with them, essentially corraling them, and when they arrive at the mark... our mechs exterminate them."

For a moment, everyone was considering her words, but the Khan's ears picked up on a strange point... Our mechs. Our? It was a weird connotation...

"Mhm," Oleg gave a single approving nod before the Khan could think of it as anything more than a misspeak, "It is a sound plan, if Khulman agrees."

"You would trust your plan to a mere theory?" the Khan asked, his voice deep, probing Oleg's conviction.

"It has logic and proof in it," Oleg said, glancing at him. "And Seltana knows Khulman riders more than I do. In this case, she is more of an expert than I am. Of course, if you have even more to add, I am willing to listen and arrange the troops. If your men are willing to ride wide arcs while we direct with sonar, giving the impression that the army is behind them, we will bleed these bastards dry before they can gather into a tide or start harassing our supply lines."

The Khan said nothing at first. Once again, his gaze lingered on his daughter, who stood proud and unflinching under his scrutiny. She had become... even braver. He remembered the way she used to cling to her mother's skirts when just a few years old, the way she... wanted to have her brothers' wooden swords... And when told no, she began playing with tokens and battle maps... She had always been clever, yes, but cleverness was not the same as strength. Or so he had told himself.

Was he wrong? The Khan couldn't answer it yet. Instead, Rhanak's fist curled at his side, not precisely because of a sudden anger but in something more complicated... It was his pride that was hurt. His world had always been simple: men fought, women kept the hearth burning. Yet, here his daughter was a voice on the deck of a flying warship, shaping how thousands of soldiers might fight and die...? Really?

"Mhm..." Finally, he rumbled deep in his chest, letting out a breath, "Hn. You spoke as though you already knew my riders, girl. Do you really, or is it just the words from a book?"

"Both," Seltana met his stare without flinching. "I grew up watching them. I know their speed, their endurance, and their discipline, and I studied Rashira just the same. I can also tell you that my eldest sister is a better scout than you would imagine... But, that is not here nor there." She added, fixing her posture and not letting her emotions get in the way of the discourse, "You always told us that Khulman blood was born for the saddle, I remember that phrase well."

Listening to her, the Khan's lips curled slowly into a smile. He wasn't mocking her nor was he snickering... He was even proud.

"Very well," he said, finally breaking eye contact, turning back to Oleg. "You will have my riders ready in an hour if you want them. Let us see if my daughter's games become victories in reality or if they stay in the realm of childish fantasies."

"Don't worry, Avalon is not keen on playing with lives, not ours, not our allies," Oleg inclined his head, already passing orders to aides who scribbled them down immediately, "They will succeed."