Page 78 of Feral Gods
"Of course," she agrees, her tone softening in recognition of his effort. "I'm choosing risk, not suicide."
With our broad strategy established, we spend the next hour detailing specific approaches, synchronizing timing, and preparing the specialized equipment Zephyr's plan requires. Throughout the discussion, I observe the subtle shifts in our group dynamic Ravik consulting rather than commanding, Zephyr offering tactical suggestions beyond his scholarly expertise, Kaia providing insights about dark elf patrol patterns from her time in captivity.
And myself? I find unexpected satisfaction in strategic planning rather than simply awaiting orders to execute. The warrior in me still hungers for battle, but tempered now by deeper purpose beyond the joy of combat itself.
When the planning concludes, Ravik straightens from the map table with renewed purpose. "We move at dusk," he announces. "The transition hour will conceal our approach from both conventional scouts and magical detection."
"I'll prepare the focusing crystals," Zephyr says, gathering his texts. "Kaia, I'll need your assistance with the magical attunement."
As they turn to leave, I catch Ravik's eye. "A word, commander?"
He nods, remaining behind as the others exit toward the workshop cavern. Once we're alone, I face him directly, warrior to warrior.
"You handle the new dynamic well," I observe, offering the compliment without pretense.
A rueful expression crosses his features. "Better than my previous demonstration, at least."
"We all have our breaking points," I acknowledge, recalling my own moments of uncontrolled fury throughout our centuries of service. "The measure of a leader isn't perfection but adaptation."
"Philosophy, Thane?" His tone carries surprised amusement. "I thought that was Zephyr's domain."
"I contain multitudes," I deadpan, drawing an unexpected bark of laughter from him.
The brief moment of camaraderie reminds me of earlier days, before the curse, when our bond as warriors transcended the rigid hierarchies of dark elf society. That connection, I realize, remains beneath the transformations we've undergone—tarnished by circumstance but unbroken.
"She changed everything," Ravik says quietly, amber gaze drifting toward the passage where Kaia disappeared.
"She reminded us of who we were," I correct gently. "Who we could be again, with the right catalyst."
He considers this, massive obsidian shoulders shifting as he absorbs the concept. "You trust her plan? Her ability to channel the wildspont energy without harm?"
"I trust her commitment to our collective survival," I reply honestly. "And her resilience continues to exceed any reasonable expectation."
"As does her capacity for forgiveness," he murmurs, unconsciously touching his chest where she had pressed her hand during their reconciliation.
"That most of all." I move toward the exit, pausing at his side. "Don't waste it, brother."
His hand catches my shoulder in a gesture of solidarity we haven't shared since before our transformation. "Watch yourselfout there. Your diversion will face the brunt of their initial response."
"As intended." I grin, battle-lust already stirring at the prospect of combat. "Save some glory for the rest of us."
With final preparations underway, I retreat to my assigned chamber to ready myself for the coming conflict. My armor—salvaged from the temple and adapted to my transformed physique—gleams dully in the crystal-light as I secure each piece with practiced efficiency. The familiar ritual centers me, focuses my thoughts on the immediate challenges rather than larger existential questions.
A soft sound at the entrance draws my attention. Kaia stands watching me, her slight frame silhouetted against the passage's ambient glow. She's changed into garments better suited for our mission—close-fitting leggings and tunic in dark colors, sturdy boots, a hooded cloak that will help conceal her from casual observation.
"Preparing for battle?" she asks, stepping into the chamber.
"As I have a thousand times before." I secure my bracer with a practiced twist. "Though with considerably higher stakes than most."
She moves closer, studying the intricate engravings on my chest plate. "You look... formidable."
"The intended effect," I agree, pleased by her appreciation despite the gravity of our situation.
Her fingers trace one of the protective sigils etched into the metal. "Zephyr explained these to me. Protection in battle, swift victory, return to those who wait."
"Traditional dark elf warrior blessings," I confirm. "Though I doubt their effectiveness after all this time."
"Then perhaps we should add new ones." Her palm flattens against my chest, directly over where a heart would beat in a mortal form. Magenta energy flows from her fingertips, seepinginto the ancient metal, revitalizing the dormant sigils with fresh power. "Protection through connection. Victory through unity. Return to those who love."
