Book 7. Chapter 16: Snakes
Rashant felt the wind under his wings as he took off to get the human's bidding done as quickly as possible. Which meant getting to the command center.
The ancients were historically known as a tunnel-ground race, obsessed with having four walls and sealed gateways everywhere to feel safe. And while that kind of nonsense architecture was severely limiting, there were times it was a good idea to have a reinforced box to live in or defend oneself from.
The command center was one such old human structure still kept together for that purpose, and that was where the Deadland’s Hersir-commander would brood from.
Normally with Rashant’s rank, speaking to the commander of the deadlands was way outside his role’s expectations. Today, he felt an exception could be made. He’d talk to Yill directly, get all this settled before the human decided to start using fire again.
His plan was on track up until he reached the command center and found the tower section sealed off by two armed guards. “I need to talk to Yill right away.” He tried, but the guards remained stoic.
The other soldiers moving around him ignored the event, focused on their tasks, and soon someone in charge showed up to handle Rashant’s attempts to get inside the command center.
Roark, Hersir-commander Yill’s second hand.
He knew Roark well, since he’d flown here in the same convoy with the rest of the gungnir four years ago, when the replacement for the prior hersir-captain was ordered. And the captain’s hawk-like eyesight noticed him arriving immediately.
“Rashant. Why are you not with the human?” He asked, landing near the same perch he’d settled on, the pebble of silver metal shining brightly on both wingtips. A dangerous weapon in the hands of a retired Gungnir like Roark.