A Soldier's Life - 292 - Exiled Elder (Final edit 7-1-25)

Chapter 292: Exiled Elder

Mynasha found herself riding next to me as I devoured some salted candied nuts. It was taking a fair amount of aether to heal from the potion, and my ring of sustenance had not dulled my appetite. I wasn’t sure if my convergence spell form to get the most from essences also extended to the strength potion. There might be some truth in that speculation, given how much aether I gathered from dungeon aether restoratives. Maybe it was just dungeon potions, as I don’t think the effect carried over from alchemist-brewed potions. I couldn’t recall if dungeon-brewed potions worked better on me than alchemist brewed.

Mynasha interrupted my wandering thoughts, “It was an impressive victory.”

“He was too aggressive in his first attack. He should have tested my defenses and speed before committing,” I said dismissively. My strength was so ridiculous that it wouldn’t have mattered, but I was still used to analyzing the fight and putting myself in my opponent’s shoes.

She didn’t have a response, and we rode in silence. She didn’t even offer to continue our Orcish lessons. Before we were about to cycle pairings, she said, “I find you acceptable to serve as my First.” She paused for a breath. “I would be honored to have you stand with me through the Trials.”

I didn’t have time to respond before she cycled back to ride with Benito, who quickly tested her patience with the stories of his entertaining exploits. I should have been paired with Blaze next, but Glasha maneuvered her pony to take his spot, and he didn’t object, staying where he was at the front.

I didn’t have to wait long before she revealed her purpose. I thought it was going to be pressing Mynasha on me after she had just begged me to help her. “I know an old cleric a few miles off the road ahead where we can stay.”

I shook my head thinking that it would give her enemies more time to place obstacles in our path. “I would rather we push through. A few miles would add hours to the journey.”

Her jaw clenched a little. “It would be beneficial for Mynasha to talk with Cleric Tarnasha before the Choosing.” At least she hadn’t made it sound like an order and more of a request.

I had apparently earned the respect of both clerics. “Is that how all clerics are named? Adding -asha to the end of their names?” I asked, not committing to the detour.

“When we are recognized, we choose our own name. Usually, it derives from our birth name. Asha means spiritual guardian of the people. Before I was recognized as a cleric, my name was Glorza. It basically means runt of the litter,” she laughed to herself at some private joke.

I nodded at the information, as it reminded me other religious orders allowed name changes when promoted. I let out a slow breath. “How important is meeting the cleric to her success?”

She looked back to make sure Mynasha was occupied with Benito before continuing. “Tarnasha was an Elder and also went through a Choosing himself as a candidate long ago. He can give her wisdom and what to expect of the Elders.”

“I am guessing he wasn’t chosen to be the Supreme,” I said rhetorically.

“No. He was expelled from the Elders as well. Or I should say, they didn’t accept him back. He was not the strongest candidate, but I do believe he was the wisest and had the people’s interest at heart, much like Mynasha, so he can be an ally.”

“Power and influence will always prevail in the Caliphate. Mynasha has the power but not the influence.” She looked back at Mynasha again. “But she will put our people’s interests first as Tarnasha would have. That is why I am helping her. I didn’t think she stood a chance until I stumbled upon you.” Her grin looked more feral than happy with her tusks.

“I have to consider my companions,” I replied dismissively, but I was considering how much I really cared about the orc nation. Glasha looked about to say something to press her case, but stopped.

Before sunset, Glasha directed us to a worn game trail. I didn’t like how narrow and overgrown it was, so I handed the Ginger’s reins to Mateo as I scouted ahead on foot. I pulsed earth speak, only picking up small animals in the dense woodlands. The woods were full of towering evergreens hundreds of years old, their dark green needles creating a dense canopy overhead. As I ventured deeper along the path, the crisp, invigorating scent of pine needles surrounded me.

As I approached a wide stream a few miles later, I decided to pause and wait for the rest of my group. On the far side of the stream, a well-worn path wound its way up a gentle rise, where wisps of gray smoke curled upward, hinting at the presence of a nearby dwelling. When my companions finally emerged from the dense woods, they allowed the eager horses to drink.

I sensed something and turned to see a bald, older, gray-skinned orc standing on the rise. Two impressive white wolves flanked him. A few of the horses got skittish at the sight of the wolves and pulled on their reins. The trio had appeared almost silently and had been out of range of my earth speak. Glasha yelled up to him over the rushing water, “I wasn’t sure you were still alive, Tarnasha.”

He spat heavily on the ground, looking over our eight members. In an unpleasant tone, he yelled down at us. “Glasha, is that you? I hope you brought something delicious for dinner. I am not feeding all your friends.” He walked away, disappearing over the rise, and the wolves went with him.

“Don’t worry, he grows on you in time,” Glasha said reassuringly. “He is probably upset I haven’t visited him in over two years.”

After the horse’s thirst was satiated, we led them up the slope. Glasha was first to enter a small clearing with a single-room cabin. A tripod suspended a large cast iron pot suspended over smoking coals. The two wolves flanked the fire pit, protecting their master’s dinner. Log seats surrounded the fire. I signaled for the others to care for the horses while I approached with our charges.

Tarnasha had already sat, and his eyes looked unfocused. He wasn’t blind but definitely had difficulty seeing. “Why are you disturbing my rest Chronicler?” He asked as he stirred the coals.

“Rest? I thought you came here to die?” She said with a teasing tone.

“I will when I get around to it.” He retorted with a chuckle.

“You always say that when I visit, yet you are still alive when I come back.” She joked, and the two orcs had a laugh between themselves. “This one is going to The Choosing as a candidate,” Glasha said more seriously. Mynasha straightened her back some, presenting herself to the old orc.

He squinted at Mynasha through furrowed brows, frustration etched across his face. “Damn it! Heal my eyes, Glorza! Why do I even have to ask anymore?” His voice was tinged with impatience. Glasha approached the timeworn orc with a playful snicker, her fingers outstretched as she reached for his head. As her hand rested on his head, his eyes gradually cleared, allowing his appraising gaze to fixate on Mynasha.

“Don’t waste your time going to the Choosing,” he advised, his tone heavy with caution. “It should be called the Already Chosen.” A swift slap from Glasha to the back of his head caused the nearby wolves to lift their heads in concern. Their ears perked, but their bodies remained still and watchful, waiting on the pleasure of their master. My hand instinctively moved towards my blade as I prepared to defend the cleric. “Isn’t that what you wanted me to say?” He said, rubbing his head.

Glasha chastised the old orc. “No, I changed my mind. That is why I brought her here. Help her prepare!”

“Prepare her?” He asked, baffled. 

“Yes, for whatever trials the Elders plan for them. You were one once after all,” Glasha said impatiently.

He growled unhappily at Glasha, “I was part of two Choosings in my lifetime, one as an Elder and one as a candidate. Neither were enjoyable experiences.” He stopped talking and stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time. “Is he a human?”

“He will be her First, once we convince him,” Glasha said with a wink before I could object.

He laughed aloud, “Oh, I would love to see the Elders’ reaction to that! I can see Kytasha breathing fire and Loliasha having a stroke at the arrogance of it.”

“It has been done before,” Glasha said calmly and trying to give me a reassuringly nod.

The old orc laughed, his wrinkles disappearing as he grinned while he did so. “That is why a Chronologicaler can never be the Supreme. How long ago was that? I assume he didn’t survive.” I looked at Glasha questionably.

Glasha pursed her lips, “He wasn’t killed, he just never exited the Demonic Lair.”

“Same difference,” the old orc dismissed with a wave of his hand. He sighed, seeing he wasn’t going to convince the women to abandon their quest. “Fine. I will talk with her and tell her what to expect.” He indicated to me, “By his dazed expression, you should talk with him and tell him what to expect. I might even come with you just to see what dragon shit you are dropping on the Elders.”

The old orc stood, cracked his back, and straightened, and I could see his eyes looking around, acclimating to his improved sight. “Come, child. Let me tell you how to survive the Choosing. Mind you, not how to become the Supreme but just how to survive it.” Mynasha looked uncertain for the first time but followed after getting a nod from Glasha.

The wolves looked to their master, but he never gave a command for them to follow, and they lowered their heads between their paws in disappointment. I looked at Glasha for an explanation with an agitated expression. 

While she gathered her thoughts, a strip of bear meat I had prepared for Baldo appeared in my hand. The two white wolves immediately perked up, sniffing the air. They didn’t leave their spots guarding the kettle, though. I tossed the meat to the one on the left. It landed on pine needles within reach, and he sniffed it before consuming it greedily. The other wolf looked at me like I had somehow betrayed him by giving it to his brother. I tossed the pleading wolf a second piece, and it snatched it out of the air. Both wolves slowly shook their tails in a friendly manner but remained guarding the pot.

Glasha moved to check the pot, and the wolves growled at her. She grunted, “Those beasts never liked me much.” She returned to her seat rebuffed. “While they are talking, we should talk about your duties. The First’s duties are to stand by their candidate.”

I interrupted her, “I never agreed to be part of The Choosing.”

“Well,” she said heartily, “consider this information in case you do decide to help Mynasha.” I shook my head but let her continue. As she talked, I alternated tossing dungeon bear meat to the two white wolves.

“As I was saying, the First stands by their candidate. Usually, it is one of the more popular and powerful warlords who is backing them—to signify the warrior caste is willing to obey. When a candidate cannot find a First, they can always enter The Choosing alone, but will certainly fail.”

Maveith interrupted, asking for food to prepare for our group. I gave him some dungeon bacon and potatoes to go with what he had in his pack. The wolves sniffed the air, their eyes following the retreating goliath. I tossed each some cooked bacon, and their tails resumed swaying, showing their happiness. Glasha shook her head, maybe upset I didn’t toss her some bacon before she continued, “The Elders—there are five currently—will offer challenges to the candidates until two remain.”

“You mentioned it before, but what is the nature of these challenges?” I asked, willing to listen.

“They are tailored to eliminate the unwanted candidates.” She smiled tuskily, “For instance, if one of the candidates had an earth affinity that the Elders wanted to assume the Supreme seat, they would bury objects in a mountain a few miles away. Only those returning with one of the objects in a predetermined amount of time would advance.”

“Do the candidates fight each other? Are candidates killed during these challenges?” I asked.

Glasha chewed her lip. “It does happen. However, violence on another candidate disqualifies them from The Choosing, and could see them exiled.”

“But no restriction of violence against their Firsts?” I said, filling in what was not said.

“But not against their Firsts,” she confirmed seriously. “Do not worry. We are not as petty as the First Citizens of the Empire. It is deeply frowned upon and a great loss of individual honor to kill another without reason. And no, winning The Choosing is not a valid reason to kill.”

“Would me being a human be a reason? Or a Telhian?” I asked. Glasha pursed her lips, her jaw tight, but did not answer. I pressed further, “How was the Supreme killed then? Your edicts make no sense to me.”

I caught something briefly in her eyes before it disappeared—guilt or something else. Glasha got uncomfortable on her seat.  Prehaps it was me questioning her people’s ethos. “The Supreme was not attacked directly, but he was guided to his demise. And no, I was not a party to his departure.” She inhaled deeply and let out a long breath. “But I could have prevented it and I chose not to.”

She was waiting for me to judge her. After some thought, I said, “Everyone is righteous in their own mind. Only those who write the history will determine who was, in fact, righteous.”

Glasha looked at me in disbelief and burst into loud laughter. The wolves grew alarmed and finally moved away from the fire, getting behind me. “And because I am a Chronologicaler, I can determine whether I am, in fact, righteous or not in my own actions.”

It was not what I had been going for, but it had broken the mood somewhat. A massive explosion thundered in the woods. The wolf on my right tucked its head under my arm, seeking protection. The other one cowered behind a log. I stood on alert, my companions rushing from where they were preparing dinner.

“There is no danger!” Glasha said, stopping us. “Mynasha is just demonstrating that she does have the power to become the Supreme to Tarnasha.” Another explosion rocked the woodlands, and I covered the wolf’s large ears as I did for Oscar during thunderstorms when I was little.

I noticed a flash this time before the explosion. Was she using lightning? More explosions followed, and soon, splinters were raining down in the clearing around us. A shiver ran through me as I comforted the wolf. Mynasha was exploding trees with powerful lightning over a quarter mile away, and the debris was reaching us. How powerful was she? 

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