DB Lazarus
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48. Hidden Fault Lines - II
🕑 Added 2025-02-15 21:00:06 +0000 UTC“Here is the thing about Humans: that diversity in their classes is no joke. It’s given them an edge at creating enchanted gear. It didn’t matter that the Volki outleveled them. Humans had the numbers and, more importantly, the weapons to equalize the difference. Adding in their prodigies reinforcing an army, they pushed the Volki back. Even worse for the Volki, many of the Human prodigies led from behind the lines. It let the Humans cut down their strongest warriors while keeping theirs relatively safe.”
“And now Humans are taking over everything?”
He chuckled. “Nah, but they’ve displaced the Volki from some of their traditional territory. They’ve even made a move on Ættarsk land—well, land is a strong word there, but some of the area they typically roam.”
The tray had started to light up. Six of the ten wells had a faint glow. It was done, but this was too interesting to stop. “What about Oresiani?”
“We aren’t dense like the Ættir and Volki. We noticed it far before everyone else. We have always been trading partners with Humans, and they started trading for reagents and ore only used in better gear. We even received some of their earlier works. It was clear the direction they were moving, and we made very sure to keep a good relationship…and to build some counters.”
“So, you are sort of friends with Humans, and while you don’t get really along with the Volki, you do enough for this expedition.”
“The clan heads think Humans need to be checked a bit. I don’t agree, but we aren’t about to leave coin on the table either.”
I shook my head. “Such a mess, but I don’t see why Ættir dislike Humans. Was encroaching on their territory that rare?”
“No. Volki did it all the time. Ættir don’t care too much about territory since they are semi-nomadic. If they did, Ættir should hate the Volki more than Humans. Yet even though the Volki are why they are here, I bet most Ættir still dislike Humans more.”
“Wait. You have to explain that last bit more.”
“You see, there was a big battle recently. The Humans’ push into the Ættarsk territory came as a surprise to no one. They had been testing areas within a tier or two of their own for some time. The Ættarsk territory was a bit brazen, but it was also a tier below what the Ættir prefer. At some point, the Human kingdom needed to test its mettle against the Ættir. The Humans fared better than many expected, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Still, after a few skirmishes, the Ættir realized they needed to call in reinforcements to push back the Human land grab, and that cost them.
“The Volki had caught wind of the Human army’s movement. I think they had a plan to strike the Humans after the battle. Win or lose, the Ættir would have weakened the Human force. But when the Ættir called for reinforcements, they left their settlement relatively undefended. The Volki saw an opportunity and struck at the settlement. It should have been a massacre, but by chance, another Ættarsk band had just arrived to trade in the settlement. The visiting Ættir came to their defense, but they paid a price.”
“Was the visiting band not as strong?”
“No. The opposite actually. I wasn’t there, but from the reports I’ve read, I understand the decision. It wasn’t about the settlement. They are nomadic. So, holding the settlement wasn’t that important. It is about the people. Against a Human or Oresiani force, it might have—no, it would have—been different. I know you aren’t familiar with Volkski war tactics, but it comes down to one thing.” He spat. “You bow or die. Even then, many still die. However, you know Ættir…”
I gave the superhuman figures, many still wearing bandages while they ate, a long glance. “Yeah. I am getting an idea.”
“The Ættarsk Sæmdarskati saw the situation. He couldn’t protect enough of their young and elderly. Maybe if it was just one band….” Dorian shook his head. “In the end, he did something that probably surprised the Alfa. He offered a blood debt to protect his and the other band’s people.”
“Is that similar to a life debt?”
“They can be.”
“And was doing so strange?”
“For an Ættar? Yeah. Most would rather die than be in that debt. He sold his warrior’s honor. That his warriors followed him gives credence to the rumor that his band is quite progressive among his kind. I doubt another band would have agreed, but they didn’t have a choice, not when the Sæmdarskati sacrificed his warrior to protect theirs.”
“So there are two different bands here?”
“Yep, not that I can tell who is who. Regardless, that extra manpower gave rise to this expedition.”
I mulled over all the new information. It made sense in some ways but not others. “The Ættar’s animosity to the Humans all stems from the attack that started all of this?”
“It doesn’t help things, but yeah, there is something else deeper. From what I have been told, the animosity stretches back for generations.”
I swallowed, letting that sink in. I still hadn’t met their leader, but if my interactions with the Volki were the norm, I wanted to keep my involvement with them to a minimum.”
“But what about Oresiani? The Ættir don’t like you either. Or is it just your winning personality, Dorian?”
He laughed. “I wish, but I think it again has to do with Humans. We never attacked, but as soon as we were seen as a conduit for high-tiered materials, our relationship soured. I wish I understood it more because I don’t think Human expansion can be completely checked.”
“You think it’s that inevitable?”
“They aren’t going to take over, but they won’t be locked down in their small islands, which is good. The Volki are a blight. We should be helping Humans push them back—at least the ones that don’t support life-debts.“
“I can’t disagree,” I murmured, “but it seems like your leadership did.”
“Trust me, not everyone agreed.” A gentle warmth filled me. Maybe not everyone hated Humans. Dorian pointed to the small wells. “We calling it, then? It has been stable for long enough. And surprise, surprise. The reading isn’t any different from what my skill suggested.”
I nodded and capped the tubes and the sample to show the Verndari later. Trust but verify.
I stood up. “Hey, have you ever asked the Ættir?”
“What? Why they dislike Oresiani?”
“No, why they dislike Humans?”
“Not something most Oresiani care about, but I actually did. Let me tell you, that went as well as expected. When I didn’t get a scowl and silent treatment, it was,” and then he spoke in his deepest voice, “you ask things that don’t concern you, Oresian.” He smiled when I laughed at his terrible impression, but then he grew serious. “There is more there than I think most understand—old stories at play. I had been hoping to understand it better on this trip, but so far, I have failed to make inroads.”
“You really want to make inroads?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. To me, it sure hadn’t seemed like Dorian was trying to extend bridges. He froze, and something flickered in his eyes. Anger? Shame? Either way, I had hurt him. I raised my hands in apology. “Sorry, it is hard to tell with your interactions with the Verndari.”
He rubbed the back of his head, a sheepish smile on his face. “I haven’t been excelling in my interactions with him.”
“No, but I am sure it is hard. You probably see him cutting corners to make a profit, which I can agree with. But they are powerless in a way I am sure none of them are used to. I have been here for less than a month, and it is hard not to be depressed by the near hopelessness of the situation.”
“I am not—”
“That’s not what I’m trying to debate. I know you care. However, while I think you missed it during your argument with the Verndari, your views had support.”
“Really?” There was no heat, only interest, in his voice.
“Yeah, your concerns were heard. They are also nervous about opening up a new load. I am guessing that they just can’t speak up, not with their hierarchy. It’s the lower-tier people, of course, but I think if you figured out some way to help them, you’ll find some common ground or at least earn some respect or honor or whatever it is that you use as a sense of cultural currency.“
“So what are you proposing?”
“Work with them. Help them make it as safe as possible. They claim they are as good at mining as an Oresian. We both know that is categorically untrue.”
His smile grew to epic proportions. “No, they definitely aren’t. I could be more helpful. It’s just,” he looked up at the tunnel’s ceiling, “it’s just that we don’t do it this way.”
“They seem to be okay with more risk. I don’t agree either, but you can’t extrapolate your previous group’s experience to this group.”
“Someone is going to die.“
“At the rate they’re going, you’re probably right.
“We have ways to make it safer if he is willing to slow down a bit. But if I do this, it might make him more reckless in the future.”
“Screw slippery slopes.” So often, the hypothetical risk got in the way of results, not that he understood what I had said. Even though my words had translated, by the look of confusion on Dorian’s face, I had used another unknown idiom. “I mean that you are right in that it could make him more reckless. However, I think doing nothing will actually increase the risk of injuries. Work with the Verndari. You might save lives if you do.”
He flinched at my statement. “You—” He stopped. He opened his mouth to speak, only to remain quiet. He looked away, staring at nothing for seconds, until finally, his shoulders sagged, the tension leaving him. He whispered, “I think you’re right.” Then he shook his head and spoke louder. “No, you are right. I have been failing my team. If that idiot is gonna try to open that seam, the least I can do is make sure that they don’t do it without defensive structures in place. I need to swallow my pride.”
“Awesome, when do you want—“ But before I finished, he was already walking out of our tunnel. “And I’ll just catch up after I clean everything up.”
