Welcome back gentle reader
If you have kept up with my bio updates, you will have seen that the economic turmoil and the tariff war cost me my job. It's actually taken up more of my time job hunting than what work did, which is really weird. I should get paid more to search for work. This is going to affect my writing, but it is too early to say how much. But enough about my issues.
Unfortunately for poor Jebidiah, there's still a lot of pain waiting for him in the coming chapters, both physically and emotionally. I've had a couple 'how could you!' feedback about killing off Hiro, but death happens. I'm not going to go all Game of Thrones or Attack on Titan death totals in these books but the deaths will continue. Harry Turtledove has a larger series of books where one of the not quite main characters has a few chapters devoted to her over the series. And then, towards the end of the series, in the very beginning of the book, she dies a rather stupid death. Just out of the blue. I saw him at a convention a few years later and asked him about her death. He told me, 'War is hell. People die in every way imaginable. Her death is the story of life.' That stuck with me.
Standard disclaimer, multiply ages by roughly two to get equivalent Earth ages. Everyone is a consenting adult.
-- Somewhen, Somewhere --
If Comlain were still mortal, he knew he would have been a bundle of raw nerves, on edge to a degree where the slightest provocation aimed anywhere near him would have been met with uncompromising violence. The game was moving too quickly. What normally took years to accomplish was rushing out of his control in a matter of months.
Comlain had nearly lost his player. He had watched the battle with white-knuckled intensity, flinching every time Jebidiah was injured. If not for the early intervention of the displacer beasts, he was certain House Valor would have ended as quickly as it had started. A footnote in the human chronicles. He suspected the beasts were the work of the others, but confirmation would have to wait.
Jebidiah was growing into his potential. That much was clear even to the mortals around him. He was hardening, transforming himself from a potent tool into a formidable weapon. But that transformation was coming at a cost -- not to Jebidiah, but to Comlain himself. Jebidiah had always proved stubborn to his manipulations, but he now sensed open hostility -- antipathy toward Comlain. Young Valor could very well end up being a weapon Comlain could not wield -- one he might well have to defend against.
And now, fresh off an impossible victory, Jebidiah was rushing headlong into what would be the harshest test yet. What was it his young player had said? The harder the stone, the sharper the axe?
This stone might break his blade.
Comlain -- through Aesis and Darido -- had granted Jebidiah a stronger sense of logic, reason, and judgment, all meant to elevate Jebidiah above responding to emergencies with emotion. Comlain primarily intended the changes to help Jebidiah overcome the intrinsic anger that his orcish blood gave him, but a secondary consideration was to make sure that his enemies could not exploit those close to him as a weakness. It would make the young man cold and calculating, but that's what the game demands of its players.
Like most Divine attempts to meddle with humanity, this attempt had backfired spectacularly. Jebidiah had his moments of coldness, especially toward those who had not gained his trust and loyalty. But everything was flipped on edge where love was concerned.
Bora and Avellar's meddling with one of his bondmates, the bard that Bora styled her champion, proved that where love was concerned, Jebidiah's heart led his mind. Comlain could still hear the venom in that one word Jebidiah managed to say: "
You
." It was equal parts threat, accusation, and disgust, wrapped up in a single syllable, and aimed squarely at Comlain.
If Jebidiah Valor was ready to confront Comlain over one of his wives... what would he unleash when two were threatened?
Comlain shuddered.
-- Chapter 8: Evergrow Woods, West of Fort Mylar --
-- Sixth Tenday of Juntaen 813 AGR --
That which does not kill me has made a tactical error.
- Taylor
Jebidiah seethed. His anger clouded his vision, already dimmed in the dying light of dusk. His horse's hooves thundered against the ground. He knew it because he could feel the impacts against his backside, but none of it reached his ears. His skin felt none of the branches that whipped at his face, his nose ignored the scent of pine that those same branches left embedded in his skin. All he could sense was molten rage, driving him past reason.
The stallion's flanks foamed with exertion. A portion of his mind screamed that he was on the verge of riding the horse to its death, threatening his speed, forcing him to continue on foot. The angry portion of his mind, the majority, told him he would just have to settle for running. Stopping for rest was not an option.
Something was pushing against that rage, fighting him, making him angrier. It was soothing, calming, and it irritated the fuck out of him. He had been fighting that soothing calm for the last hour, and it was exhausting him and his resolve as if dousing the massive walls of flame he'd thrown up around his heart.
He was beyond exhausted. Too many battles, too much magical healing without rest, the emotional cost of it all, it was too much. Only his rage kept him moving; he couldn't afford to stop.
But the calm kept fighting him, wearing him down even more. The fucking calm.
He reared his head back to roar his anger, keep him moving, kicking the stallion's flanks with his feet, urging more speed. He never saw the branch coming.
Jebidiah woke to a world of pain. The thick canopy of leaves made it difficult to determine the time of day. He attempted to rise, but motion brought a fresh searing pain lancing across his chest. He relaxed his muscles and lay still, eyes closed.
"Amazing."
His eyes shot open to find Dana standing over him, a frown on her pretty face. He wanted to ask what was going on, but pulling in breath to speak hurt too much.
"You should be dead, you know." Dana prodded his side with the tip of her foot, eliciting fresh pain. He moved to swat her leg away but failed even that.
She squatted next to him. "Listen, Jeb. Really listen. The last few days you've done an amazing job with everything that's been thrown at us. If things had gone to plan with our family dynamics, I honestly don't think I would have held up if I had been in charge. But then... you go off and do this."
He struggled for breath, finally managing to croak out a whisper. "Crys."
"Oh, we figured out what was going on, Jeb. No thanks to you." Her voice grew quiet. Sad. "I... we all understand that Crystal sits at the top of our food chain. I think deep down we've always known. It used to hurt, you know, that we couldn't compete with her. But after a while the rest of us realized we didn't need to -- well, most of us. And Divines know, after what she went through with her Change, she needed that love you would never admit to before."
He struggled more and she placed a hand on his chest. "Just stay put, damn it. It's probably best that you broke too many ribs to speak." She chuckled. "You've always been stubborn, Jeb, to a fault. We've worked with it over the years, managed it, but what you're doing now... this will end up getting us killed. You suppressed your love forever, along with a lot of other emotions, except the anger -- though I'm not one to talk about anger. You were always the logical one, always reasoning. It's why we used to follow your lead when we were kids."
He stopped struggling against her hand and drew in more breath. "Still are."
She chuckled again, which made him try to chuckle, causing him even more pain.
"Yeah, yeah. Ten-year-olds, running around, fucking up the kingdom." She pumped a fist. "Go team."
She let out an exasperated sigh. "Jeb, we're going to get you patched up, but this has to stop. Talk to us. If you want to be the leader, that means you always lead. All the time. That was stressed over and over again as I grew up and is the one thing I hated about what my position would bring. There is no time available for you to be selfish, to do what you really want to do. That was hammered into my head over and over again on how to be a 'proper ruler'. And that's what you are now, not just a leader, a ruler."
She sighed again, looking off into the distance. Jebidiah took notice that, for once, Dana wasn't in full on angry lecture mode. There was none of the usual bite to her words, no patronizing tone.
"I prefer... this Dana."
She grinned. He wasn't sure if the grin was directed towards his words or his pain. Probably both. Still staring off into the distance, she said, "Not the angry Dana? Well, I guess sometimes we need to grow up and stop being ten-year olds."
