“…and so the best option would be to force a battle on two fronts, and move in a reserve from a flanking position. Since our soldiers are stronger, we can afford to trim our own front line to force the opponent to overextend.” Beat droned on and on. The orc had earned every last scar on his battle-weary body, and what he was saying was true, but that didn’t make it of any interest.

Learn had been studying tactics like these since his head was up to his father’s knees. He had watched battles from mere yards away, had talked over shared meals about the tactics both forces used. He had even spoken with prisoners, non-orcs far more than he had ever been allowed to, about the tactics they used and how to counteract them. From them, he had learned how to change his plans to account for those who thought differently, who operated differently. Humans, elves, even the occasional goblin band.

Beat knew what he was talking about, but Learn knew all of the information as well. This class was trifling. Another bitter, disappointing failure at finding a place. It seemed his Name would never grant him peace, not as long as he was forced to stay here in the Red Desert. Not with the Biters.

“Any drinks?” Host offered, shaking the small group out of their fevered discussion. He was carrying a wooden tray, upon which stood several ceramic mugs, and he swiftly and carefully placed one in front of each person at the table, swapping out Lgthpt’s used one for a fresh, full second. Though the liquid in the mugs sloshed around, not a single drop spilled.

“Thanks,” Learn rumbled, rifling through one of his pockets. He pulled out several gems, leftovers from his first, failed attempt at retrieving his tusks. Startled, he reached his other hand around his neck to check if they were still there. He felt himself when he felt their new, glossy quality, and dropped the gems onto the plate Host was carrying. The human nodded with a tight-lipped smile and went back behind the bar, to forever wipe down the surface with his omnipresent rag. He wasn’t used to having his tusks back, and he reminded himself of their presence every few minutes. They were comforting to him, dangling from his neck as they did now.

Learn took a sip of the drink, and was swiftly disappointed. It wasn’t whatever the strange brew Host usually offered, but tea. He had never liked tea. It was too… weak. Never left to steep until the bitterness was truly pungent, not enough for his liking.

“Have an idea,” he began after finishing his sip. “To remove Conquer. My people follow the strongest orc. For protection, for shelter, food, everything. Strongest can win that from other clans, from humans.”

“No way,” interrupted Celeste, “I don’t believe that orcs still use the rite of strength to decide leadership. That’s ridiculous, it’s such an old custom!”

“I — what?” Learn was at a loss for words. “Yes, orcs follow the rite of strength. How do you know that?” Since he had arrived in Shrike, none had shown any interest in learning his people’s customs. That Celeste knew of one so rarely spoken was startling.

“People talk.” Celeste evaded, sipping obliquely at her drink. Learn shook his head. So many secrets.

“Anyway. Used rarely. Mostly the leader is obvious, or the leader of another clan who took over another one. The orc who is strongest can protect the clan best, so the Rite of Strength is there to make sure that the strongest is in charge. Right now, that is Conquer. My… father.” Learn clenched his fists, folding one over the other to try and hide his fear. “Conquer is strong. Stronger than me.”

“Then what do you expect you can do?” Best asked. “If he’s strong enough to unite the Red Desert, how can any of us hope to even try and face him?”

A palpable moment of uncomfortable silence, as each pondered a fight, and an inevitable loss. Their faces turned downcast, and the air grew somber until Alvin snapped his fingers together.

“I’ve got it! Learn, you said he was stronger than you. So? You’re the smartest person I’ve met. And you won’t be alone, you’ve got us! There’s no way he can outthink all of us!”

Learn felt a vicious satisfaction. He hadn’t wanted to put his friends at risk. So he had laid out the costs, laid out the stakes, and looked to them for their decision. No coercion, no pleading nor begging. Alvin was the first to agree, and the rest nodded, though Celeste still looked worried.

“Ok. Darling, we already know that you have something planned. Care to share with the rest of us?”

“Five parts,” Learn stated. “One for each.” He pointed at Alvin. “Alvin, you have your grandfather’s amulet?”

Nod.

“Good. You’re healing. The plan is okay, but always a chance someone get’s hurt, or killed. You fix the first one, if it happens. I try to prevent the second. ”

Alvin fiddled with his hands. “I won’t have to hurt anyone, will I?”

“No. Just heal. Sure that Herald Hawks would be happy for you to, if you explain the amulet.”

The dwarf let out a sigh of relief and nodded. Learn didn’t think that he would want to fight, so he gave the young dwarf a minor part of the plan. If all went well, Alvin would have nothing to do while the plan was set in motion. But the dwarf’s artifact was good insurance, in case something did go wrong. And he clearly wanted to be involved. Better to let him do something tangential, rather than have him show up without warning while the plan was in motion. It could put him, and the rest of them, in danger.

“Lgthpt, you need to keep the Herald Hawks away. If they stop us, I probably die.”

“Wait, Learn. Wouldn’t I be better off with that job? The Hawks’ll likely listen to their Commander over a… sorry, Lgthpt, what rank are you again?” Celeste asked. There was no envy in her tone, just calm, professional concern. Lgthpt shrugged.

“Soldiers be not keeping good track of every little goblin. I come and go every day and meet all the Hawks and they be not knowing Lgthpt from Vlgrbindst.”

“…We’ll have to talk about that later.” Celeste said, frowning.

“You have a different role.” Learn answered. “More dangerous. Needs to be secret.”

“What? That wasn’t part of the deal, Learn!” Best said. The elf seemed genuinely angry. Learn met her eyes and tried to express the importance of secrecy.

“Trust you all. Less, the people you talk to. This is dangerous. This could kill people.”

After a moment, Best backed down. She waved one hand dismissively, then crossed her arms, annoyed.

“Fine, Learn. Trust.”

“Thank you Best. Your job is also big. And fun.”

The elf tried to keep looking annoyed, but Learn recognized her ears perking up. He smiled.

“Need you to bring attention to me when I say. Going to get everyone’s attention. Music, speech, grandstanding. Whatever you want.”

A thin smile began to creep up Best’s lips.

“The biggest audience of your life, and you’ll have them for a time. Then, give them to me. Get them to listen. Make them listen.”

Best opened her mouth, then shut it and nodded. Learn knew she would like her part.

“Once you bring me to attention, I want you to leave. My plan, I should be the only one to be in danger. Also why I’m keeping secrets. Nobody knows everything, nobody can barter or threaten. Or hurt.”

“That’s nice, Learn, but we’re all adults. We can make that decision on our own. You can keep your secrets, but I’ll be damned if I let you take on all of the danger yourself.” Celeste stood and shook her shoulders, sending Lgthpt scampering to the tabletop.

“I know I offered this to you all when we first met, and at that point you were all wary of me. But now, I think you’ll find it in a more appealing light. Bind with me. It’s not so much different than agreeing to this plan, and it should help us work in closer tandem. We’re already friends, we can be closer, tighter-knit.”

Lgthpt was the first to respond, after a pregnant pause. She rolled onto her back and flopped her arm out in a thumbs-up. Alvin stood and nodded, face grim and determined, joined by Learn.

All looked at Best, who remained seated, wary. Slowly, she stood.

“I’ll agree, but on one condition. No questions asked, no excuses.” The elf flourished her arms, holding one out dramatically, the other pressed to her chest. “From here on out, you sweetlings are my audience, from now until the end of time! Whenever I have a new performance or trick, you will be there to watch. Agreed?”

Alvin punched her in the arm.

“This is serious, Best!”

“Darling, this is the most serious I can be. If I need to test a new performance, you need to be there for it.”

Alvin sighed.

“Fine.”

————

It looks similar to before, but not quite the same, Learn thought. The place that was no place, where Celeste’s Command brought them. A starless black surrounded everything, save for the iridescent, star-filled floor on which they stood. The five of them stood equidistant from each other, with lines of light connecting each person to all of the others, emerging from their heart and receding in the others’.

At once, Learn felt the presence of several Commands, different from this little group of his. The sensation was different than normal, clearer. He could taste the flavor of the Commands, could sense exactly where they were emerging. He turned.

Behind him were three elves, incredibly small. Learn couldn’t tell their age. They looked young, with smooth, unblemished skin. Their eyes were empty, and yet Learn could tell that they were seeing more than he could, sensing more than he would ever be capable of. Those eyes… they held multitudes.

Unspool, Thread… and Cut, Learn felt. He focused, and felt his awareness of them spreading, expanding, but his understanding stayed stagnant. He could tell what they were with an intense clarity, yet the “why” of them evaded him. They were… they were here, because this was a crossroads. Because what happened here would be important. Because of Destiny. Their Commands were part and parcel of forming this place.

The one who looks behind. The one who looks forward. And the one who is looking.

Learn closed off his sense, muffling the too-intense understanding of the odd elves, but not cutting it off completely. Instead of saying anything, Learn bowed his head to them in a gesture of respect. He turned back to the center. Nobody else looked at the children. Celeste gave him a puzzled look, an expression made frightening by the empty void of her eyes. Learn shrugged. If she couldn’t see them, it seemed like she wasn’t supposed to. Maybe they were here to watch.

Celeste took a breath in, a deep breath out, and the bright threads tying Learn, Alvin, Best, Lgthpt, and herself together grew brighter.

“By this covenant will we be bound, henceforth and until the end of time,” Celeste spoke in an odd, echoing voice. “Destinies entwined, lifelines twisted, paths merged. Speak now your Command and be joined.”

Learn took the initiative. “Learn.” He said, voice clear.

“Perform.” Best sang.

“Gamble.” Lgthpt managed to look bored, even here.

Learn looked toward Alvin. The portions of his face that were uncovered by beard were as white as bone, and visible drops of sweat were flowing down. Learn was nervous that the dwarf would collapse. What would happen then, what would happen to all of them here in this nowhere place. Finally, Alvin whispered.

“Judge.” That was new. Last Learn had checked, the dwarf didn’t have a Command. And one so serious, too! A surprise, to be sure. Questions bubbled to mind, more and more questions. Learn stuffed them back down. If Alvin hadn’t shared when he discovered his Command, Learn had no right to pry. Not now, when so much was going to change, when so much was at stake.

“The five of us are now one,” Celeste invoked. “Five points forming one pentagram. Five notes forming one harmony. Five weapons in one armory. Five strangers forming one family.” The lines grew brighter and brighter until they eclipsed all vision. Learn squeezed his eyes shut and tried to look away, but the brightness persisted until tears began to leak from the corners. As it grew brighter, beyond what Learn thought he would be able to bear, he thought he heard a noise from behind him, a quiet sound barely audible, coming from the elf he could only think of as Cut.

It was the sound of the future. It was the sound of a thread being severed.