Chapter 372: Chapter 369: Sylvan Breakfast

Chapter 369: Sylvan Breakfast

 

  Jahn stopped in front of the Moon Hall and pushed the door open. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

  The Mothers were already inside, sitting at a round table, having breakfast. First Mother looked up and stiffened at the sight of the blue goblin standing in the doorway. 

  Jahn stepped past Stryg and smiled, “Room for two more?”

  First bared her teeth and hissed in anger, “Jahn, you little—”

  “—Sorry for the interruption, but I thought we could discuss some important matters over breakfast,” Jahn said lightly.

  “You can bring your matter to us later. We are eating,” First said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “Unfortunately, I am leaving with the hunters after this. I’m not sure at what time I’ll be back. I thought it best if we discuss our matters now, they are rather urgent.”

  First tapped her clawed fingers on the table in thought. The other Mothers glanced at her worriedly and continued to eat their food in silence.

  “Very well,” First finally spoke. “Sit down, eat, and explain to me this urgent matter and why you have brought the young one here.”

  “Wonderful,” Jahn clapped his hands and sat down. He glanced at Stryg and urged him to join them.

  Stryg sat down reluctantly and kept his eyes on the wooden bowl of roasted bear meat in front of him. He could practically feel First Mother’s gaze boring down on him.

  I shouldn’t be here, Stryg thought.

  “Bear, quite tough but tasty if you ask me,” Jahn said between bites.

  “Explain. Why is he here?” First said curtly and pointed an accusing finger at Stryg.

  “I told you, I have an urgent matter to discuss,” Jahn said.

  “We’re all ears,” First said impatiently.

  “After the disgraced shaman… Crovor,” Jahn spat the name as if it was poison on his lips, “Betrayed us we have been without a shaman for the last three years. I believe this may have been part of the reason why the wolves did not choose our people as riders. They saw us as weak, unworthy of their strength.”

  “It’s possible, but we have no way of knowing for certain and what’s done is done,” First said. “The wolves are gone.”

  “For now, but who is to say they would not return if the circumstances were to change? For too long we have been without a shaman. Now, a lost son of Blood Fang has returned to us, countless times stronger than that disgraced shaman ever was.”

  “What are you getting at?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I propose we make Stryg the official shaman of the Blood Fang Tribe,” Jahn said.

  “What?” Stryg asked, surprised. He hadn’t heard of this.

  “That is not your decision alone to make,” First hissed.

  “Which is why I am here,” Jahn said.

  “I think the idea has light to it,” Second Mother spoke up.

  “You were in on this?” First turned to her with a glare.

  Second shook her head anxiously, “N-No, but the chieftain makes a good point. Our tribe seems weak without a shaman. Especially after the wolves left. There are whispers among the other tribes. They believe we are weak. Those kinds of beliefs are dangerous. If we do not make a proper show of power we might find ourselves under attack soon enough.”

  “If any of those sniveling greedy tribes attempt to attack us we will do what we have always done. Kill our enemies,” First said angrily.

  “Yes, but how many lives will be lost in the process? How many enemy attacks will we be able to hold up against until our forces have been depleted?” Jahn asked.

  “And you think a single shaman can change that?” First laughed incredulously.

  “A powerful shaman,” Jahn corrected.

  “Powerful magic does not make one immortal. A shaman is still flesh and blood. A single stray arrow to the chest will still kill them. And here you are proposing that we make Stryg stand at the forefront of our future battles?” First slammed her fist on the table, “Are you all insane!?”

  Stryg swallowed hard and straightened his back, “I don’t know if I would make a good shaman for the tribe, I don’t even know if I’m going to stay here… but I do know my own strength. I am not so weak as to fall to a stray arrow. I can hold my own.”

  First looked at him as if he was a blabbering drunk, “What did you just say?”

  “I know you’ve never thought much of me. I know you and the other Mothers all thought me incapable of being a true Sylvan warrior.” Stryg chuckled bitterly, “You didn’t even think I could win my Night Challenge, which is why you had that tunnel prepared underneath the Hall, isn’t it? But I am not the child who left this village three years ago. I am not afraid to fight for my tribe.” Stryg stood to his feet, “If someone comes to hurt the Blood Fang, I will kill every single last one of them.”

  First groaned, “This isn’t about questioning your courage or abilities, you stupid boy! If you wish to prove yourself to others so badly then why don’t you go outside and do some magic tricks for the younglings! I’m sure they’ll all applaud and hail you as a hero.”

  Stryg blushed and lowered his head, “That’s not what I meant…”

  First shook her head and glanced at the chieftain, “You see? Is this what you want? A glory-seeking shaman at the head of our warriors?”

  “He wouldn’t have to be fighting, not necessarily,” Jahn said. “Shamans aren’t invincible, you’re right, they are flesh and blood. But the power of magic has never been what has kept the people of this realm in check. It is the fear of magic. Let Stryg display the sheer might of his powers once and I promise you the nearby tribes will think twice before sending even a single warrior our way.”

  “I will not let you put a target on Stryg’s back simply to quell the whispers of others,” First said coldly.

  “Why does it matter?” Stryg asked, anger beginning to boil within him. “I am an Ebon Aspirant. The whole realm has already painted a target on my back. What does it matter if a few tribes do as well?”

  “What did you just say?” First’s face paled. “The whole realm…? The whole Ebon Realm knows you are a prime mage!?”

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  “Yes…?” Stryg whispered.

  “YOU IMBECILE!” First yelled. “You’re not even a high master, let alone an arch-mage. What will you do if entire cities come after you!? How will you stop them!?”

  “I’ve made alliances,” Stryg muttered.

  “With whom?”

  “House Kat—” Stryg snapped his mouth shut. It was better if he didn’t say he was marrying into an orc House, let alone one that had participated in the fall of Lunis.

  First sighed and slumped back in her chair. “What will I do with you?” 

  “I don’t understand,” Stryg muttered.

  “Hm…?” First looked up at him tiredly.

  “Why did you make that tunnel underneath the Moon Hall?” Stryg asked.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, we didn’t make the tunnel for you. It has been there for years,” First said.

  “Then why did you want me to go through it? Why did you want me to escape? You said there was a reason. What was it?”

  “That’s….” First opened her mouth, but no more words came out.

  “We needed to keep you alive,” Second Mother spoke up.

  “Why? And when Plum asked you about Sigte why did you tell her there was never a goblin by that name? We both know Sigte was a part of our tribe,” Stryg pressed.

  Second furrowed her brow, “No, there wasn’t. I have never met a goblin called Sigte. None of us have.”

  The other Mothers nodded in agreement, save First who just stared at Stryg thoughtfully.

  So they really don’t remember? Stryg thought worriedly. The thought that his tribe had forgotten one of their own was unsettling enough, but the idea that Sigte had never existed in the first place was worse. Had he been the one who had imagined Sigte? Had someone tampered with his own memories?

  “Why did you need to keep me alive?” Stryg asked. “Why me? There have been others who have failed the Night Challenge and have simply been killed or cast out to die in the forest.”

  “Our reasons are our own,” Second Mother said flatly.

  Stryg recalled the story Plum had told him about the Mothers before. If what Plum said was true then perhaps the reason was obvious.

  Stryg took a deep shaky breath, “Did… Did you make that tunnel because you wanted to keep me alive or because you wanted to get rid of me? Because I’m a bad omen? Is that what this has all been about? Or is it because I’m an Aspirant? Are you afraid that my enemies will come here to find me and destroy our tribe?”

  “…We kept you alive because it was your birth mother’s wish,” First spoke at last in a quiet voice. 

  “My mother?” Stryg furrowed his brow. 

  His mother had died in labor.

  “She wanted you to be safe,” Third added quietly.

  Fourth nodded, “She never thought you were a bad omen.”

  Second smiled softly, “She loved you. With her dying breaths she wanted you to know that. She loved you, Stryg.”

  Stryg suddenly felt as if he was falling, the world spun around him.

  Growing up, some part of him had always resented his mother. He had blamed her for his own weak constitution. She hadn’t been strong enough to survive the birth and she had passed that weakness onto her son. But hearing her final words…

  Something inside him broke as a wave of guilt crashed over him.

  “H-How? Why…?” he mumbled in a broken voice.

  “Do not ask us more about it,” First whispered in a strained voice.

  Jahn coughed pointedly, “We can discuss the details of the shaman position later. Stryg, come with me. There is a hunting party that could use your magic.”

  Before Stryg had a chance to respond, Jahn grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the Hall. Stryg didn’t resist, his mind was elsewhere.

  The dining room fell silent. The Mothers did not touch their food, not even Fifth, who had kept her envy to herself and had said not a word. The Mothers all worriedly looked at their leader and matriarch, who sat with her head bowed in silence.

  First pulled off her scarlet-ebon wreath and tossed it aside. She ran her shaking hands through her black hair, exposing the white roots underneath the black dye. Her bottom lip trembled, but she clenched her jaw and took deep calming breaths. Without a word, she stood up from the table and walked out of the room.

  Second stared at the empty doorway with pity. “Your mother still loves you, Stryg,” she whispered.

 

 

 

 

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