Clodius Decimus was grim.

  He was as confident as he could be. He had three legions at his command. A sea of iron segmented armor, white and red tower shields, and tall pilums. It took them two weeks to march to the island. The legionnaires were tough and battle hardened, and they carried their supplies, forgoing pack animals for speed. The whining and slightly lower morale were acceptable prices to pay. The longer the Maelim were ravaging the Cradlelands, the harder it would be to dislodge them. Especially if they had taken that island.

  He prayed that Ruth and the Godshards survived, that they fled, that they got out in time. There was no way they could have driven off the Maelim by themselves. He wanted to believe she could handle things, truly. He could see something in Ruth’s eyes that reminded him of stories his grandfather told him of Adam.

  Theodosius Decimus Adamite rightly held great regard in the Decimi family, and Clodius loved hearing stories of him. Supposedly he was an honest man, and didn’t shy away from his mistakes. Before the daemons attacked Primus, refugees from the other cities arrived desperate for shelter from the encroaching monsters. He wanted to leave them to their fate. Adam was there, and he convinced Theodosius to let them in. Theodosius famously apologized to Adam and the people of the Cradlelands, and Adam was compassionate in reply.

  If Theodosius didn’t listen, Primus wouldn’t have had the manpower to see victory. At the time, Clodius was more absorbed in the feats of bravery and the clash of arms. But as a man, it was that moment, a decision that determined life or death, that hung in his mind. That was the heaviest chain of command. The responsibility for the lives of others. One wrong move, and soldiers die. Clodius was determined to not make such errors in his life.

  He adjusted his helmet and drew his sword. Here it was now, the moment of truth. He gestured to his officers down the column. The ranks formed up. Weirdly enough, there was no fire, no noise. Maelim were usually quite barbarous and loud. Yet there was nothing but silence. Clodius’ heart sank as he caught a whiff of a familiar scent. Death, and blood.

  Once they were in a more battle ready formation, they marched once more, at last entering the clearing. What they saw made Clodius speechless.

  There was a big pile of Maelim bodies, there must have been at least a few hundred of them. They were burnt, and the smoke was still smoldering off their charred flesh. Crowning the grizzly sight was a head on a pike. Clodius’ eyes narrowed, he recognized this face, it was a Maelim warlord known as The Butcher.

  Clodius nodded but he kept his relief hidden. One less infamous Maelim in the world was fine by him. He looked around. There were no humans or Godshards. The little shore town they were building was largely untouched. Clodius ordered his men to fan out and to stay alert, lest they came across any lingering Maelim. One of his centurions came across a substantial graveyard that wasn’t there before. There must have been hundreds of new headstones.

  Clodius scratched his head. This was making less and less sense. Who won here? If it was the Maelim, why did they make a pile of their dead. If it was the humans, where were they? He scanned the headstones, he didn’t see anything for Ruth, so that was comforting. With little else to go on, he whipped his horse forward, the only way he’ll know anything for sure is to see what was going on that island.

  He was relieved when the island looked normal. He couldn’t see anyone there, but there weren't any fires, no distant hollering from Maelim, just the sound of restless seas. Clodius dismounted and squinted his eyes. He wished he could see what was going on.

  Mercifully, his answer came in the form of an eagle.

  The bird squawked loudly to get their attention as it flew to them from the island. The bird glowed brightly as it morphed into a woman. She had the glowing eyes of the Godshard, but it wasn’t Ruth. With grace, she landed in front of the legion.

  “Greetings visitors, my name is Ember,” said the Godshard. She looked annoyed by their presence but was nonetheless cordial.

  Clodius stared dumbfounded for a moment before mustering the words to speak. “My name is Clodius Decimus. We heard of what happened in Submersio, and that the Maelim were heading here. We have come to secure the area.”

  Ember rolled her eyes. “We’re fine. The Maelim have fled. Once their vanguard failed to get a foothold on the island, they retreated.”

  Clodius nodded. “Well, that’s good to hear. What happened to Ruth? Is she alright?”

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  Ember’s glowing eyes flickered. “Come with me.”

  Clodius felt a sensation envelop him before the two of them lifted up into the air. Clodius screamed and flailed his arms in a panic. He saw the faint wisp of a smile on Ember’s lips as they fluttered to the island. The salty, crisp air was overbearing, and his eyes watered from its chill. He nearly dropped his sword in his fright. There were other Godshards, their glowing eyes staring at them as they approached. Their flight was thankfully over quickly, and Clodius glared daggers as they landed.

  “Was that really necessary?”

  “Did you want to swim?” said Ember with a smirk.

  “I am the Consul of War! Show me some respect.”

  Ember waved him off, before pointing at the building. “She’s in there.”

  Clodius nodded and proceeded inside. He sighed in relief when he saw that Ruth was alive. She had seen better days, her body was covered in bandages, particularly her arms. But she was otherwise alright. Another Godshard was with her, a dark-skinned woman draped in a long silver dress, a nightly reflection of Ruth’s. The two of them turned in unison as he entered.

  Ruth gestured to the other Godshard, who took the reins of the conversation with a nod. “Greetings Consul,” she said with a polite grin.

  Clodius fought hard to get distracted by Ruth’s judging stare. The way she peered into him with such intensity and focus filled him with a mix of fear and intrigue. He wondered if this was what Theodosius felt when working with Adam. It took him a moment to remember that the other Godshard had just spoken to him. He bowed,“Greetings, er-”

  “Sheba. Call me Sheba.”

  “Right.” Clodius cleared his throat. “We heard what happened and were sent to secure the area. I’m pleased to see you’re alright.”

  Sheba rolled her eyes. “Of course we are. Ruth is made of stern stuff.” She gestured to Ruth with loving eyes as she sat up on her bed. “She’s set to make a complete recovery, although she insisted on keeping her scars even though healing magic could help her.”

  Clodius grumbled, he was growing weary of the condescending glares from these Godshards. “I mean not to disrespect, but when a crisis suddenly arrives on a person’s doorstep, I would expect some more civility when a concerned friend shows up.”

  Ruth’s eyes narrowed and she started signing. Sheba translated them for Clodius. “You’re not a friend. You’re just looking for a pretense to take over this island.”

  Clodius frowned. “That is far from true. I’ve been advocating for your independence for the past month! A Maelim invasion force is not some minor threat. I’m here to help you, to make sure you’re okay!”

  “You don’t understand. Why do we need you at all? Why doesn’t Primus take us seriously like they did when Elias was around?” Clodius grew silent, she had a point. “They’re making this an issue because they’re judging me for my deafness. They think I’m dumb, they think I can’t handle myself. They’re fools, and by proxy, you’re no better. I was the one who killed The Butcher.”

  Clodius' jaw dropped. “Single handedly?”

  “Yes. It took a lot out of me, but I did. Don’t you see? The republicans repeatedly underestimate us, and we’re sick of it.”

  Deep down, Clodius knew she was right. He thought that arguing on her behalf meant something. But he’d be lying to himself if he said his view of Ruth was a large part of why he was doing that. Not to mention it was what drove him to come to the island so fast.

  Clodius sighed, perhaps he made the same mistakes as his ancestor after all.

  Clodius took off his helmet and got down on one knee. “You’re right. I was being judgemental, perhaps I didn’t mean to, but I was all the same. I’m truly sorry for doubting you.”

  Ruth and Sheba glanced at each other, and for the first time, their demeanor softened. “It’s alright,” said Sheba, “Just be better next time.”

  “Theodosius Decimus is one of my ancestors. He knew Adam and fought beside him. He said there was a passion, a power in Adam’s eyes.” He pointed at Ruth. “I see the same thing in yours.”

  Ruth smirked, before she signed once more. “Thanks for the compliment, and that indeed explains a lot,” Sheba said. “Was there anything else?”

  Clodius sighed. “Well, like it or not, the debate is on the senate floor, and it must be resolved there.”

  Sheba scratched her head. “Aren’t you a Consul? Why can’t you dismiss the matter?”

  “It is beyond my power. Primus is a republic, no one person holds so much authority. I cannot overstep. There are other senators, blackhearted individuals whose prejudice runs deep. They are the truly bigoted and ignorant ones. They have too much influence for me to dismiss the issue outright.” Clodius lit up. “But I have an idea! Come with me to Primus.”

  Ruth tilted her head, and Sheba echoed her confusion,“Why?”

  “So Ruth can make an appeal to the Senate of Primus herself. It’s the only way you’ll be taken seriously. I know it’s not fair to do this at all, but it is your only chance. I’ve seen your conviction, Ruth, and the senators have a deep respect for the Godshards. Once they see that, I’ll have the leverage to dismiss the matter!”

  There was a long moment of silence as Ruth and Sheba paused, lost in contemplation. Sheba turned to Clodius. “Can you leave us for a minute? We need to talk in private.”

  …………………………………..

  “You know it’s the right thing to do, Ruth,” signed Sheba. “Clodius has given us a golden opportunity. We can’t squander it.”

  “But the senators don’t know Benelim Sign Language, love,” Ruth signed back. “What’s the point? They won’t understand me.”

  “We have to try!” signed Sheba, her gestures frantic, sloppy and passionate.

  Ruth’s hands trembled as she signed back. “I’ve never signed in front of an audience before. What if I mess up, or break? It would do nothing but validate their ignorance.”

  Sheba sat next to Ruth on the bed. “Well, you won’t be going alone. I’ll be right by your side, translating your words. My passive charisma has always served us well, hasn’t it?”

  Ruth gave a shaky grin. “That it’s true.”