Hm? What is this? A lizard? There’s something weird about it. It looks funny. Why are its eyes yellow? Is it… It’s crying! But a lizard crying? What in the world is going on? There must be something wrong with it. Wait a second. Let me get a bit closer. Is that… is that blood? Ug. What’s that smell? It’s horrid. Urg. I feel sick. No, stay back there. Don’t come down here, Dmetr. Something’s weird. I don’t like it. We need to get out of here.
— Ban, at Fare Caolan
War. It’s been coming steadily. I can feel it as I gaze at the at the setting sun. Something far to the south is building strength. But then, so will I. I’m no longer hesitating. I decided that needed to get as big as I could as soon as possible. And by big, I meant my forces. I needed more people at my back. The only way to do that is to expand, open more rifts to strange places no matter the danger involved.
War is coming. Of that, I have no doubt. There have been little signs. The gwisin was the first real sign, like the first snow of winter coming much too early. He wasn’t the last. This month has been war, only it was just the beginning of something that is frightening.
It’s not just the things I consider little now, like the increasingly frequent eira attacks. Two days ago alone, there were four separate waves that invaded my territory. They had been attacking consistently as far back as when Namena appeared, only they would get lost and subsequently most often fall in the lava pits. I hardly noticed them until one of them managed to break through almost all the way to Harbor. They’ve been learning. If only it had just that.
I look down. My hand trembles. Too often. Too often I’ve taken lives now. A disaster. I clench my fist. It wasn’t just the eira that I pierce through with projectiles. It was the lives of those things, and of my own.
The first came through shortly after I planted my next dimensional ice tree, not long after Namena left–the first step of gathering more under my cause. It was little. A small, almost fox-like thing with sandy fur and large, bat like ears. I only had a glimpse at it as it entered before it launched itself at my face. A projectile later, it was writhing on the ground with a hole through its lungs. It was then I got a good glimpse at it. It was frothing at the mouth, bleeding from its eyes and ears and nose. A strange smell wafted up from its flesh. It was sweet, like roasted almonds, but sickening so with hints of rotting plum. I gagged. Even my sliver fish wouldn’t get near it, and they’re carrion eaters. I cremated it in lava and cut off the connection to that ice tree. It swiftly withered.