1. Rorax
“Oi! You there! Can we borrow your hole?”
The woman—who had been busy digging a grave for the body of a grossly disfigured man lying next to it—let out an unflattering squawk when she looked up and saw Volla and Rorax staring at her from a few feet away.
Volla leaned heavily against a tree and wiped the sweat off her forehead with her wrist. “We can share it even, we aren’t picky, and she sure as shit ain’t picky.” Volla jerked her thumb towards the body draped across Rorax’s shoulders. Rorax shifted the heavy weight of the armored corpse from one foot to the other as sweat dripped down her nose.
Usually, Volla would just flame the corpses they needed hidden into ash, but after they had infiltrated and nearly burned the nearest Lyondrean fortress to the ground, her power was precariously close to tapping out.
Volla took a few slow steps closer, and the woman took a nervous step back. Volla had pale white skin, long hair that was currently braided to the middle of her back, and an angular face. Sitting, she wasn’t all that intimidating, but when she stood to her full six-foot two-inch height and puffed out her muscular frame, even the biggest men eyed her with the same wary look the woman was giving her now.
“Please? We would really appreciate it,” Volla pleaded, attempting to be diplomatic, though they would simply take it if the woman didn’t acquiesce.
The woman had a split lip and bruises scattered across her face. Her already pale skin blanched as she nodded fast. “Ye-yes of course. You can use it.”
Rorax grunted her thanks before shuffling closer to the empty grave and dumping the body across her shoulders unceremoniously next to the other. The bodies matched, the dead man was donned in the exact same red and orange leather armor of the dead female. Out of the seventy-five soldiers stationed at the fortress, three had escaped their ambush and run off into the woods, and it seemed like one of them had sought refuge with the wrong woman.
“Did you see any other soldiers wearing the same armor run this way?” Rorax asked the woman.
She nodded. “Two more passed through my village, but only this one tried to force his way inside.”
“You didn’t want to offer him refuge?” Volla asked, raising an eyebrow.
The woman just looked over the soldiers with pursed lips and shook her head. “Got me enough mouths to feed back home.”
Volla reached over and plucked the shovel out of the woman’s hands. “We’ll finish up here. If you want the shovel, come back for it later and we’ll leave it here.”
Volla Torvik, always so thoughtful, even when digging the graves of enemies and cowards. Rorax would have happily propped the body on a heaping pile of horseshit if it meant they could have immediately started heading back to the rendezvous point, but Volla had insisted on a proper burial for the dead. Rorax didn’t think cramming two bodies into the same grave really counted as proper, but she wasn’t about to argue. After being recruited by her new Heilstorm unit almost forty-six summers ago, Rorax had learned better than to argue with Volla about what constituted as honor; the definition seemed to change every day.
“K-Keep it.” The woman stuttered, and a little color came back into her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Volla started digging as the woman turned and scurried back into the woods.
“We just won the lottery, digging graves takes forever in this gods-forsaken country.” Volla grunted, heaving a shovelful of dirt out of the pit.
“I am feeling lucky.” Rorax wiped the dripping sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand and eyed the rocky soil Volla was digging into.
Volla pointed a dirty finger at Rorax in between scoops of dirt. “You’re always fucking lucky, Ror. Most of the time it’s incredibly annoying, but today? I could kiss you.”
Rorax grinned. “Maybe some of my luck will rub off on you and you can win your first game of cards in ten years.”
Volla huffed a laugh. “Don’t get my hopes up. Do you think we’ll get to go straight home after this?” Volla straightened her spine and pushed a filthy hand over her long, platinum blonde braid, leaving streaks of dirt and blood in the strands. “I’m sick of being in this shithole country.”
Their four-person Heilstorm unit was on loan to House of Weather for a mission a few miles west across the border of Lyondrea. They had been here for over a month investigating rumors that the Lyondrean queen was researching how to open Pits, which was illegal according to the Guardian’s Law. They hadn’t been able to find any concrete evidence of that yet, and Rorax prayed that the queen wasn’t so na?ve. The first two Pit Wars had nearly decimated the population of Illus by releasing monsters straight out of hell, and the consequence for opening Pits again would be the queen’s execution.
Once again, Rorax prayed to the gods that her brother, Darras, was safe. She’d tried to ease her conscience by reminding herself that prison was probably safer than open exposure to the queen’s monsters, but it felt like a lie.
“I would assume so. With this last loose end, we could be released anytime,” Rorax mused, holding her hand out to take the shovel from Volla.
Volla handed it over and pulled herself out of the hole as Rorax got in, looking around at the empty woods before wiping her hands on her pants. “I bet we get delayed because of Jia.”
Rorax cringed at the sound of the shovel scraping loudly across a big rock in the ground. “Maybe. The king and queen might want us to finish one more mission to test her out again before making our final decision.”
“Well, I like her.” Volla sat down on the opposite side of the hole from the two corpses, stretching her long legs in front of her and leaning back on her hands. “She’s way better than the prat we were working with before.”
Rorax snorted, hauling up another scoop of dirt.
There were four of them in their Heilstorm unit, and they were Unit One out of four total units.
Jia Frostguard, the newest recruit, had joined after one of their old team members started getting sloppy and eventually got herself killed. Volla had nominated Jia, knowing how proficient she was in both archery and larceny, and apparently knowing intimately how good she was with her tongue.
Their new team had a different dynamic, but so far it was a good one. A really good one. Jia had a lot to learn until she was up to par, but their unit’s potential had both their leader, Sahana, and the King and Queen of Ice excited about the potential. She was a perfect fit for their unit, the ‘missing piece’ Volla said, though Volla had been taking Jia to her bed almost every night since Jia’s initiation a few moons past, so her opinion was entirely biased.
“Alright, give me the shovel,” Volla sniped. “You’re moving at the same speed as those snails over there.”
“I am not.” Rorax handed Volla the shovel as she eyed four crusty snails climbing the tree next to them. Even the snails looked wrong in Lyondrea, more threatening with black crystalized shells.
Volla was one of the strongest beings Rorax had ever met, her biceps were nearly the same size as Rorax’s head. Volla’s weapon of choice was a giant broadsword that probably weighed as much as Rorax did, and Volla could swing it with ease like it was nothing more than a short stick. So, she made quick work out of the digging.
Volla continued for a few more minutes before they shoved both bodies into the shallow grave and covered them with dirt.
“Let’s get back,” Volla sighed and Rorax agreed. Rorax didn’t like the idea of leaving Sahana and Jia alone with Captain Crax for too long. Captain Crax was one of the commanders of House of Weather’s armies and was the point of contact while they were on loan to Weather. There was something ruthless about Crax, a slightly unhinged look in her eye that made Rorax uneasy. They traversed back through the forest, back to the small, one-tower stronghold, passing numerous groups of Crax’s men digging graves for other dead Lyondrean soldiers.
Rorax and Volla strolled side by side through what was left of the crumbling, slightly scorched front gates. Crax’s men were standing around admiring the damage their unit had left. Blood, scorch marks, ice, arrows, and corpses lay strewn about the crumbling bailey of the stronghold.
They were on their way to the interrogation room, Volla and Rorax passed by a line of surviving Lyondreans who were shackled and bound, waiting their turn. The line was short, thankfully it wouldn’t take long.
They met up again with Crax, Sahana, and Jia in one of the rooms and in the middle of a torture session. Crax was administering the torture while Sahana leaned against the wall and watched with indifference. Jia stood next to her with a look of mild interest.
Crax, however, was cutting into her victim with a kind of cruel bloodthirsty glee that made Rorax’s stomach churn with unease and disgust.
“Is your queen trying to open the Pits?” Crax dragged the flat edge of a small carving knife up the side of the woman’s cheek, along the dark tresses of her curly hair.
“Please . . . if ya promise this ends here . . . if ya swear on ya gods that this ends here, and that ya will not track down my family, I will . . . I will tell ya everything I know,” the woman begged with haggard breaths.
An oily grin crept over Crax’s mouth, and a shiver threatened to shake Rorax’s shoulders as she watched. “Sounds like agreeable terms to me. What do you say, Sahana?”
“If she gives us everything we need to know, it is acceptable,” Sahana said. She turned to Volla and Rorax. “Is it done?” Sahana, her long black hair pinned up in a smooth bun, gave them a bored look. Her brown eyes and small hoop earrings glinted in the torch light. Even though it had only been the four of them during the take-down of the small fortress, Sahana looked unruffled besides a thin layer of ash or dirt smeared across her light brown skin.
“Yes Commander,” Volla said. “And we found one of the three men that got away. He’s dead.”
“Good. Crax brought a few hounds with her to track down the other two, so we will leave them to her since she arrived late enough to miss all the fun.”
Rorax eyed the woman Crax had tied to a chair in the middle of the room. This woman had been the officer leading the paltry defense of the stronghold and was now bound loosely to the chair by her wrists and ankles. There was no way she could escape with all five of them standing there, so the bindings were more of a way to keep her upright while Crax interrogated her.
Crax, a pale woman with short cropped blonde hair and a set of armor in House of Weather’s royal blue with yellow lightning sigil on the front, turned back to the officer, gripped the back of the woman’s head, and ripped it back viciously. “Talk. Now. Is your queen trying to open the Pits?”
The officer said nothing as her chest heaved in short puffs of breath, her eyes wide and terrified.
Crax let out a little sigh and took a small knife out of a sheath on her belt. “The tip if you would, Volla?”
Even though Rorax knew Volla was exhausted, Volla followed orders, focusing on Crax’s knife until the sharp end of the short blade was red hot, like a live coal. Crax turned and pressed it firmly into the officer”s cheek, causing her to scream in agony.
Crax giggled at the sound, like a happy little girl playing with her favorite toy.
Volla and Rorax shared a wary look. They had worked with Captain Crax before, and every time they did, she proved to be bloodthirsty and crueler than before. King of House Weather, Zhang Valk, was a good and kind king, one of the steadiest and most competent kings in the Realms, and one of House of Ice’s greatest allies. It surprised Rorax that he trusted Crax enough to represent him and act for House of Weather here.
Next to them, Jia stiffened and went slightly pale as the smell of burned hair and skin permeated the air. After working for nearly fifty years with Volla, one of the most powerful wielders of Fire Magick in the Realms, the smell of burning flesh barely registered to Rorax anymore.
Most people born and bred in House of Ice were familiar with war, including all its smells and the grotesque imagery of death and monsters, but Jia was the top general’s daughter in the House of Ice and had been born with a certain amount of privilege that the rest of them had not. Compared to some of their missions the death toll on this one could be considered tame; Rorax was nearly desensitized to this, and Jia would shortly be too.
Rorax studied Jia as her fellow Heilstrom watched Crax continue her administrations. Jia had long, dark purple hair she had pulled into a tight ponytail, striking phoenix eyes, and normally clean olive skin tone that was currently covered in the same sweat, grime, and blood that the rest of them wore.
Crax pressed the hot blade to a new section of the officer’s skin and the woman shrieked. “YES! Yes, there are rumors she is opening the Pits! Rumors!”
Crax smiled again. “Now we are getting somewhere.”
Sahana sighed and turned to Volla and Rorax. “We’re going back home tonight. Jia and I will finish up here. Go back to camp and start packing up, both of you.”
“Thank the gods,” Volla sighed.
Rorax gave one last hesitant look at Crax, who was circling the bound woman like a shark smelling blood in the water. Did she want to leave Sahana and Jia behind with her?Her thoughts must have been written all over her face.
“Rorax,” Sahana urged. “We will meet you back at camp.”
Rorax nodded and turned around to follow Volla out of the room.
In the corridor there were a handful of men and women on the rack, waiting to be interrogated. As they left the room, one of the men in chains wheezed for breath while the other struggled violently against his shackles. “You are a monster!” the man snarled, spitting in the dirt at Rorax’s boots, yanking his body fruitlessly against his constraints. “In the eyes of the Lyondreans! In the eyes of the gods! You’re all monsters!”
Volla wisely ignored the man and continued down the hall, but Rorax gripped the man’s face gently, tipping his chin to the side so he was forced to see her easy grin. “I might be your villain, but don’t forget that Lyondrea started this when they started opening the Pits and sending their soldiers over the border to kill the Realm’s civilians.”
The man didn’t register Rorax’s words as his rage splintered into fear when he stared up at Rorax, his terror plain to see even as he started to tremble under her fingertips. “I . . . I know you. Spine Cleaver.”
“Let’s go, Grumpy!” Volla called over her shoulder as she continued to make her way towards the main gate. “And don’t play with your food, or you’ll never get rid of your shitty reputation.”
Rorax gave the shaking man a saccharine smile before slipping away and following Sahana’s second in command toward the front gates. Crax’s men eyed Volla and Rorax with raised eyebrows, but kept their mouths firmly shut as they walked out of the front gates and into the woods.
They were silent for a while before Volla sighed. “Ror, what’s your opinion of Jia?”
Rorax snorted. “I think it’s a little late for that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re asking for my approval after I had to shove grass in my ears in an attempt not to hear you fuck her while I was on watch last night.” Rorax’s voice was flat, but a little smirk kicked up the corner of her mouth. “If you were that worried about me approving, you should have covered her mouth.”
Volla chuckled.
The sun was starting to set, casting a brilliant orange light across the sky, and creating a peaceful glow in the forest of pines. Happiness and relief bloomed through Rorax’s chest as she breathed in the crisp air. They had been coordinating out of a cave for the past month, and while the weather had been warm enough that the camping wasn’t awful, the thought of sleeping in her own bed made Rorax want to moan with pleasure. She held a branch out of Volla’s way and Volla ducked underneath.
“General Frostguard and Ye-Jun can’t know, they’ll separate us.”
General Frostguard and Ye-Jun, Jia’s mother and brother, would undoubtedly force Jia into another Heilstorm unit if they found out about them being romantically linked. The general had been reluctant to let her only daughter join the Heilstorms in the first place, but Sahana had convinced her. If the general knew that Jia had the ultimate distraction in the very same unit where she was posted, she would be furious.
Rorax looked over her shoulder at Volla with a raised eyebrow. Her friend was usually stoic and unflappable, especially in battle, but right now she sounded nervous and uncertain. “How serious is it between you two?”
Volla blew out a breath rubbing at the dirty skin on her neck, under her blonde ponytail. “Don’t tell her… but I… I think I’m in love.”
She couldn’t help it. Rorax threw back her head and laughed.
Volla shoved her to keep her walking. “Shut up.”
Rorax stumbled forward, still chuckling, and wiping a tear from her eye. “You’re in love?”
Volla was a rake, famously promiscuous with all the women in the Realms. For her to fall in love was quite a thing.
“Yeah, don’t tell anyone, Grumpy. Especially not Ye-Jun,” Volla said. The serious note in her tone made Rorax look at her again with another raised eyebrow.
“I’m hungry,” Volla said in an obvious attempt to change the subject.
Rorax looked back in front of her at the trail and let her redirect the conversation. For now. “Food can wait, I think. I just want a real bed.”
“Are you going to spend your first night home in your bed or Ye-Jun’s?” Volla asked. Ror could hear Volla’s smirk as she pushed through a clump of ferns.
Rorax wrinkled her nose. She hadn’t slept with Ye-Jun for years. “You know I’m—”
The earth started to tremble and shake beneath their feet.
Volla started swearing behind her as Rorax swayed, tripping then catching herself on a nearby pine tree.
“What the fuck is going on?” Volla bellowed before a wall, an invisible forcefield of energy, slammed into them with so much force they both were knocked off their feet and thrown backwards into the air.
Rorax’s body was thrust into a tree, needles and branches scraping and cutting her skin before she slammed onto the ground so hard the world snapped away.
Rorax’s own scream of agony jolted her out of unconsciousness before she could clamp her mouth shut.
Her neck was on fire; someone must have been branding her or taking pliers and plucking out her nerves on the back of her neck one by one.
She clamped her hand around the back of her spine to feel, but there was nothing but hot, smooth skin there. No one was torturing her.
Rorax let out a silent scream into the dirt before she gritted her teeth. The pain was so blindingly hot the only thing she could do was writhe, taking fistfuls of soil and unclenching and clenching them so tightly she could have been condensing the soil into rocks.
She didn’t dare unclench her jaw, because if she did, she would scream in anguish, and she couldn’t reveal her position. They were under attack. Weren’t they?
Rorax silently listened for any movement in the forest, but she couldn’t hear anything except for a few chirping birds. She couldn’t think of a single soul who had the power to throw her twenty feet into the air like that, let alone cause her this much pain.
“VOLLA! RORAX?” A familiar voice called out, and when she realized it was Sahana calling her name, a relieved, dry sob ripped out from between her teeth.
“Here,” Rorax managed to rasp out, but it was nothing more than a dry whisper.
Rorax swallowed hard, ignoring the sharp flash of pain that raced down the back of her neck and tried again. “Here!”
It wasn’t much louder, but before she knew it, Volla was sliding down onto her knees next to Rorax’s side. “Rorax, gods, Rorax. Are you okay? Can you hear me?”
All Rorax could manage was a small nod.
“Sahana, Jia, she’s here!” Volla called over her shoulder before turning back to Rorax’s body to check for injuries.
Rorax only had a few cuts and bruises. She could feel where the scrapes in her back were, but the only thing that was causing her pain was her neck. She whimpered in anguish.
“Fuck, I’ve never heard you make that sound before, Ror.” Volla’s hands fluttered uselessly over Rorax’s body, her eyes wide in fear. “What’s wrong, Rorax? Talk to me.”
Jia and Sahana came crashing through the foliage. Volla’s head snapped up to Sahana. “What the hell just happened?”
“My neck,” Rorax wheezed.
Sahana crouched down next to Volla. Her usually warm brown skin went ashen, and her hands started trembling as she brushed the locks of long black hair away from Rorax’s neck.
Through Rorax’s pain, a deep sense of foreboding and fear took root in her chest.
She had never seen Sahana look like this before, shaken and scared.
“What’s going on, Sahana?” Volla growled, curling her lips over her teeth.
“She’s been Marked,” Sahana breathed, her shaky voice barely audible. “Rorax, you’ve been Marked for the Choosing.”