Autumn 1077 of the Mero's Calendar

Waking up in pain isn’t something new for Nibotus, but it is always more comforting when it’s surrounded by the smell of medicinal herbs and the view of Wolf by his side. The woman is singing a lullaby as she’s petting their son’s hair, the little boy asleep in her arms with the furrowed brows of a tormented rest. There’s a long sigh from behind Nibotus, and the king turns his head to see the form of Wolf's spiritual guide lying on the other part of the bed, a warm mass of grey fur against his side like a protector for his soul. 

- Was I this close to dying?

His voice is strained, but Wolf still hears it, and her free hand goes to cling around his fingers.

- The spirits said you would survive. They made sure of it.

- How long…

- An entire moon. 

- And the bear tribe?

- Still there. For now. Mivaren asked for an audience when you will be ready to see him.

Nibotus grimaces. Slowly rolls on his side, trying to gauge his state. His ribs are still tender, same as his right shoulder. If he closes his eyes too long, he can still hear them snapping. Can still feel the burning pull on his arm as it is getting twisted and dislocated. It makes him want to vomit, but he holds on, knowing it is only a trick of his mind. He is safe now, a month is enough to heal.

- What about Nivis?

- Troubled. He refused to leave the house as long as your soul was between worlds. He does not seem to trust anyone after seeing the aftermath of a duel for the first time. 

- You know it was not one. 

He cannot stop the bitterness in his tone, even though he should have seen it coming, the same way he had predicted the reaction of all his other chiefs. That's why Nibotus had started with Aturi. The man is insightful, enough to have already pieced everything together and silently worried until his king confirmed his doubts. The Deer chief had simply hugged him, whispering in his ear to be happy, but to stay cautious of the Meros who would want to hurt them. Then Nibotus had tried his luck with Bukeres, and after some pretty exaggerated sounds of disgust, the Lynx chief finally admitted that he would get over it, since Suzir did prove to be a decent guy those past months. As for Mivaren…

It had not been a duel, but a murder attempt. There had been no declaration. No grand discourse in front of a crowd gathered around the center of the village. No druids ready to interfere if things get out of hand. Just the rawness of despair and the certitude of death. The king had grown in experience since their first confrontation, but Mivaren had gained significantly more muscle mass for not losing time sitting at a desk. In the end, Nibotus had lost again, face bloodied and body a tangled mess of broken bones.

- What happened after I blacked out? How am I still alive?

- He could not do it. Started to cry when you went limp and realization hit him. By then, the spirits had already whispered, so I was at his door to stabilize you in time, and Bear arrived not long after to take care of Mivaren. His distress was so intense she had to use magic to calm his spirit, and I heard she’s still visiting him every night to put him into stupor and numb his nightmares.

- …

- I am not saying that so you should forgive him, my love. That is your decision alone. Just stating the facts.

- I know. It is just a lot. How did the rest of the village…

- People are still shocked, especially since the chiefs’ lips are closed about your relationship with Suzir. They are taking their distance from Mivaren, his tribe included, but there is no talk from Bear about choosing a new chief, not as long as you wake up and put your verdict. 

- At least it is not the rebellion I had feared…

- Of course people stayed loyal to you. You brought us back home. You chased away hunger. Now not only do we hunt, but we fish, and even cultivate our own fruits and vegetables.

- I did not do shit, that was all because of Suzir. He is the one who dealt with his dad so we could have our lands. He is the one that gathered all that knowledge so I could transmit it to… Wait, one moon cycle, you said? What happened to Suzir?

He could remember it clear as day, how Suzir’s hands had gripped more solidly on his horse’s rein for a fraction of seconds when Nibotus said he would stay at the village instead of traveling back to the city. He should have told him sooner, not put him on the spot right as they were about to leave, but Nibotus had hesitated on his decision until the moment he had seen the general hop on his saddle. That had not left him with a lot of time to explain, especially under so many eyes. So Nibotus had kept it brief, telling the Mero his chiefs needed some time with their king and to not worry about it too much. Suzir had nodded, then Anel and Sival had come to say goodbye, and nothing more could have been exchanged after that.

This could have been their last interaction before dying under the hands of Mivaren. Not even a proper goodbye, not even a touch of the hand or a stolen kiss. Not even the confession of love Nibotus had at the tip of his lips since talking to Majen, but too afraid to say so early in their new relationship, especially when seeing how awkward the Meros are about the subject. He could have died, and Suzir would have never known how deeply he had grown to care about him. 

- Did he come back for his weekly visit? Did Mivaren attack him? 

- No. He has not. But Anel came with her daughter. Said the general had been asked urgently west for a political meeting, that is why he did not accompany her. I did not want to alert her, so I said you were sick, and that it would be better for her to quickly come back to the city next morning, instead of extending her stay with us like last time. Mivaren stayed away from her, did not even leave his home while she was in the village. I would not have let him touch a single hair of her, anyway. 

The ferocity in Wolf's voice at that last statement is a welcomed surprise. The protective instinct of a druid is a powerful thing, but only reserved to tribe's members. Anel must have made quite an impression to be so quickly welcomed by the spirits, despite the stench of the Mero gods subtly emanating from the thick curls of her dark hair. The sharpness of Wolf's tone is enough to stir Nivis out of his sleep, though, and the kid promptly jumps into his father's arms the moment he realizes Nibotus is conscious again, fat tears of relief rolling down on his round cheeks. 

An entire day of calm passes before his king's duties are back at his door, this time in the massive form of Mivaren. The man's entire demeanor makes him look way smaller than he really is, and still, Nibotus hates that he can't stop the quickening of his breath and the slight shake of his hands the moment he sees him. Nivis is even more demonstrative in his fright, running to hide behind his mother and trembling like a newborn fawn. Mivaren flinches painfully at this, and Nibotus can understand why. When Nivis isn’t following his parents everywhere or playing with other children, he is always looking out for the chiefs’ attention like a nephew would do with his uncles. Losing his trust so brutally would shred Nibotus’ heart in millions of pieces if he'd be in Mivaren's shoes. 

There's a long silence where the man balances his weight from one leg to the other, unsure of what to say, or how to say it. He ends up mumbling a question about sitting at the foot of the bed, Nibotus still nestled under the pelts despite being in way better form than he had hoped when waking up yesterday. The king lets him, even with the hair at the nape of his neck standing up in at every move of those large hands. Sensing the tension, Wolf's spiritual guide turns his big head to face Mivaren, posing his maw strategically between the man and Nibotus’ torso. It doesn't growl, not yet, but its golden eyes are focused, and that’s enough for now. Mivaren almost whimpers under its gaze, lowering his head to fix the floor in a clear show of surrender. 

- I… I do not know what to say. Telling you that I am sorry could never be enough after what I have done. 

- That is true.

The awkward silence stretches. Wolf says nothing, doesn't even look their way to give them a semblance of privacy, focusing instead on soothing Nivis. But they can all see in her stance that she’s ready to pounce on Mivaren the moment the chief makes a wrong move, and would have no hesitation to rip his vocal cords out of his throat if needed to. That is, if she’s quick enough to get there before her spiritual guide. 

- I wish I could be able to move on like the others. I know I should be grateful for the opportunities that Mero general has given us. And I know you have never given me reasons to doubt your judgment… 

- But you still cannot get over the hate, can you?

- No. I just think of all the ones who have suffered and died because of people like him. Of all the ones who will have to know the same fate when we will have to battle under the Emperor banner, as if we need to prove that we are worthy of the lands that should have stayed ours from the start. And it… it makes me so angry. So angry that I cannot see the benefits everyone else is so relieved to experience again. I understand why everyone wants to compromise for a better future, and still, I get so bitter because we should not have to compromise at all with those southern thieves!

Large hands close into fists, and immediately, the rising voice of Mivaren is cut off by a low growl. Nibotus’ heart is beating so loudly in his ears that he barely hears it, only feels its vibration against his chest. The chief quickly deflates once again, shame painted all over his face, not for living his emotions, but for letting one consume all of him to the detriment of the others.

- I do not say that to excuse how I acted. I attacked you. I broke your trust and betrayed the affection that linked us both. And even as I despise that my hate for the enemy has turned me against my own, I cannot trust myself to stop those emotions. And that is not something you, nor my tribe, need for a time of peace.

- So you really want to step down as a chief? Let someone else take your place?

- If I could, I would keep the title to my grave. Continue to battle and protect my people until my last breath. But I am not stupid. I know that what I want is not something that should be. I am looking at you, looking at Majen. Your generation is passionate and bright. So will be the one taking my place. 

- You talk as if there's more than ten years between us. We are not that far apart in age, you and I.

- I know, and still, I can feel the difference. We are at a turning point in our people's story. I do not know if I will be able to adapt to that change the way you and Majen embody it. 

There’s silence as Nibotus ponders the decision to make, knowing that the spirits will not make it for him. Then his eyes fall on Nivis, and he knows what should be done. As a king and as a father, the one who should be the example of what a just man is. 

- I want you to stay the bear chief.

Someone could believe he had just stolen the air out of Mivaren’s lungs. Even Nivis gasps at the announcement, and Nibotus knows he will need a discussion with his son right after that, just to make sure the young boy doesn’t take the wrong morals and conclusions from what he just witnessed. Only Wolf is impassive at this, but Nibotus isn’t surprised that she’d already known but stayed silent on this. Sometimes, the best way to let destiny take the better course is to simply let it flow freely without interference. 

- Like you said, things are moving fast. Even for me. And soon enough, we will be on the battlefield. But this time it will be on lands we know nothing of. So even if I am scared of you now… I know you more than any other member of your tribe. And that familiarity is more important to me than the fear I might feel right now at your view. So, Mivaren of the bear tribe, you have been sincere with me, and I have heard you. Can I still trust in your fury to make those enemies bleed in a last hunt?

There’s something ugly gleaming in the eyes of Mivaren as he renews his allegiance to his king with a strong handshake. Something proud and hungry, something that Nibotus knows must have shone in his own back when he was organizing war against the Meros months ago. But if you can’t douse the fire, you better know how to redirect it.