Chapter 529: ARC 7-Cursed Fates-05

“Negotiating sucks.”

“This is what you wanted, Lou,” Alana says mercilessly, walking ahead of me as we trek through a field, searching for signs of prey. Inviting the bandits to dinner means we’re doing the cooking and that’s a lot of mouths to feed.

I thought Kierra would handle the hunting, as she’s the one who usually puts fresh meat on the table, but she passed the task to me. Alana joined, claiming she wanted to stretch her legs. I think it was just to evade Kierra’s amorous attentions but didn’t refuse, happy for the company.

“Negotiation means both parties give up something. Whether that’s gold or their time fetching dinner.” She crouches. I look over her shoulder to see what’s caught her attention but can’t make out anything of note in the grass and dirt. After a moment, she stands up and starts walking with new direction. “It means sacrificing for the greater good.”

I suppose it would be childish to say I don’t want to make sacrifices for the greater good. After all, that option was available to me, both in regard to the bandits and the March. I’m the one insisting we practice saintly virtues and save lives.

Scrounging up dinner for a few dozen men is not that great a sacrifice. While their deaths wouldn’t have weighed heavily on my mind, I’d be lying if I said I’m not happier with them alive. Their leader, despite being a scoundrel, is a perfectly polite man. I dare call him a gentleman. Reminds me of my servants, lost souls dragged into a life of criminality who could be much more if given a proper chance. Maybe I should make him a job offer, heh.

Though if there is one thing that irks me about the situation… “I suppose I wish I was getting more out of this bargain. The bandits are getting a king’s ransom. They get to keep their lives, they get a meal cooked by Geneva, and they get to bask in the presence of several beautiful women. What do I get? Extra work and a clear conscience. Seems unbalanced.”

Alana hums. “I think any negotiation you make with anyone is going to seem unbalanced. As you say, people have very little to offer you. Money? You don’t need it. Power? That’s a joke. The only thing that might tempt you is a pretty face, but you do have some control when it comes to women.

“Besides, no matter what they offer, you’ll always be thinking that you could take everything. That’s why Victory doesn’t bother with negotiations. The stronger party has the power to take everything anyway so you might as well be upfront about it.”

That’s a surprisingly good point. “Suppose that’s what makes a saint a saint. Having the power to do whatever and choosing to do good.”

“Comparing yourself to the saints now?”

“There are worse goals to aspire to.”

“Mm. Think I’ve got something.” She waves me over to examine a set of tracks. Hoof prints and rather large ones at that. Some kind of herd beasts? Must be traveling north, following the progress of the coming spring. Cloud only talks about her brethren and I remember her saying that creatures follow their food. “I’m ready to start cheating.”

“Hm?” I turn my thoughts away from venison to her slight frown.

“Melding. I’m ready to start cheating.” She looks up at me. “Forget making a little outpost past the Peaks. We’ve got one year before we have to help the armies of Victory push further than they ever have and figure out what’s going on with these estrazi. Goals that may or may not involve fighting an army that they’ve had five hundred years to build with impunity and fighting a dragon. In light of that, being concerned about shortcuts to power seems ridiculous. So…”

“You don’t have convince me. But when you say you’re ready to cheat, does that mean you want to be like me or—"

“No. Not that there’s anything wrong with you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I…don’t like the idea of changing that much. Temporary stuff for, eh-hem, a bit of fun is fine, but I like being…me.”

“I understand.” I do. I could be anything I want with an ease that makes literal shapeshifters envious, but I still cling to the face I was born with, minus a few minor alterations.

“I just want to be stronger, faster. Ancestors, it feels stupid saying that out loud.”

“It’s a lot less stupid when it’s possible. Hm. Sounds to me like you want to keep doing what you’re doing but more intensely.”

“Exactly.”

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“…you do understand that it’s not going to be easy?” Kierra pushes people’s limits but doesn’t knowingly push beyond them. Whatever pace she’s set for Alana’s melding, it’s tailored to her endurance, mental if not physical. Pushing beyond those will have repercussions.

“Dragons, Lou. I don’t need easy. I need results. And so do you.”

I grunt in acknowledgment. This body of mine was designed to wrestle my wife, an elf with a pure physical affinity. As Kierra can handle anything this continent can throw at her, I thought that I could handle the same. The north was quick to correct me.

Titans are creatures beyond common sense. Aside from their massive sizes, and I do mean massive,there is something strange about their magic. My oozey self, that I had thought was immune to magic, could not withstand one of their spells. The goliath we fought was so large, my strength meant nothing. On top of that, it carried an army on its back.

I wasn’t so arrogant as to think that I sat at the pinnacle of the world. As a bald bastard with a complex about touching the ground once said, no matter how strong you are, there’s always a dragon above you. One day, that phrase may not apply to me. I was willing to take my time getting there because I assumed I wouldn’t need more strength than I currently have for a long time. How wrong I was.

“Tracks are headed this way,” I grumble, eager to change the subject before we can delve further into my naive arrogance. Alana obliges me with only the slightest smirk. “Be good to get back home.”

“Mm. I thought I would enjoy our vacation more.”

I scoff. “You call that a vacation?”

“That’s what you called it. A romantic stroll through the snow, you said.”

Ah. “I had no idea what I was talking about. Don’t comment on that.”

“Wasn’t going to.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Really? Even though I’m your future saint?”

“You’re the main one that objects to me calling you that.”

“Are you going to stop?”

“Give me something better.”

“Who gives themselves a nickname? So embarrassing.”

“I know.” Smiling, I reach for her hand, lacing our fingers together. She raises her brows but doesn’t pull away. Rather, she leans into me. Tracking down prey to slaughter and feed to a group of bandits isn’t the best idea for a date but it’s been a while since we’ve had any time alone. I miss our hours together as initiates and our lunches. For that matter, I miss my time in the Enchanted Forest with Kierra, doing nothing but indulging in each other’s company all day.

We may have to fight a war in a year and perhaps I can’t give in to my hedonistic tendencies all day in preparation for it, but saints as my witness, I’m not going to sit around in a house full of beautiful lovers and not enjoy them.

“You’re thinking something indecent, aren’t you?”

“Not at all. Just reminding myself of my blessings. This last year was the best year of my life. I’m determined to make the next even better, war and all.”

Alana’s smile lights up her eyes. “You know damn well that wasn’t what you were actually thinking.”

 

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