Shades of Grey

CHEMIN DU LE ÉTOILE— MAY 1843

“That was quite enjoyable!” Forma exclaimed as we soared over the countryside.

“This money sack is quite heavy, though. Not that I’m complaining!” I added hastily.

Forma laughed and coasted down to the dirt path below, changing smoothly into a stallion and slowing her speed to a gentle walk. I slung my bag over the saddle on her back and leapt to the ground so I could walk next to her.

“Did you find the queen at all suspicious?” Forma asked after a moment. “She seemed to be hiding something. I have conflicted feelings about her.”

I shrugged.

“I suppose her methods are a bit harsh but it appears that she knows what she’s doing. If the country can fall into such depravity after only four months without her...”

“Will we consider her an ally then?” Forma probed.

I thought for a minute about how I had seen her change after getting the key back from Rodag, her merciless execution of Lord Remacus, our suspicious episode in the dining room...she certainly had her moments.

“I think so. It would be best to remain wary of her though. After Rodag I don’t think I can ever trust anyone fully again,” I said bitterly.

“I agree. Even though I was right about him,” Forma said quickly. My lips curled.

“Do you really want to start that?” I asked.

Forma was quiet.

“I suppose not. I have much better things to think about than how much time I spend gloating.”

“Well, that’s good news for me,” I muttered with a reluctant grin.

Forma gave a whinny of amusement and I was confident that the whole Rodag episode was behind us, at least for the present.

We travelled for five days along the Chemin de Etóile, aimlessly enjoying the scenery of the beautiful French countryside.

“Oh I love water,” Forma stated in bliss as she flew across the surface of a lake we had stopped near, diving below the water every so often. “It’s so…” she struggled for the proper adjective as she landed near the tree I sat under.

“Wet?” I offered with a grin.

She smirked at me and proceeded to shake the water off her wings, which sent thick droplets showering over me.

“Very mature,” I replied, moving my wet hair from my face.

“Don’t talk to me about maturity until you go into the water. Come on, it feels fantas—”

Forma’s words were interrupted by several sudden, short blasts of a raspy horn.

“What was that?” Forma asked, crouching below the tree line cautiously.

“I’ve no idea…”

As the horns grew closer, a steady thundering of hooves began rising underneath. Forma and I quietly approached the dirt path, waiting to see to which army the strange horns and thundering hooves belonged.

What came galloping thunderously into our view was a large army of Ceminotaurs: an ugly man, ox, horse hybrid bred for transportation and fur production. Riding atop each sat a hideous Treptik: ghastly pale creatures that were distant relatives of the Cronamians, only these beasts were much thinner, much uglier and triggered a much stronger gag reflex.

“Disgusting!” Forma retched. “They look like malformed kangaroo fetuses!”

“I thought they did not come out in the light,” I wondered.

“Maybe they ran out of food in their...uh...where do they live again?”

“Anywhere, Treptiks are nocturnal nomads. So what are they doing out in the sun?”

Forma frowned in thought and we watched as the Treptiks rode on, hot on the trail of some sort of prey.

“What do you suppose they’re tracking?” Forma asked.

“I don’t know. We should follow and see.”

“Why? Won’t that just slow us down in our journey to Vikka? Which, might I remind you, was your idea?”

I looked at her smirking face, then to the Treptiks as they turned off the main road and my natural Hunter curiosity took over.

“I have to see what they’re up to,” I replied verbally. “It’s too intriguing.”

Forma rolled her eyes and changed into a Volatillius once more as I leapt upon her back. She took a running leap and began soaring over the forest in hot pursuit of the Treptik warriors.

“Do you see them?” Forma asked, scanning the trees.

“Yes, they’re gathered in that little clearing over there. They seem to be aiming their spears at something…oh no…”

My heart dropped as I saw a small girl at the centre of the Treptik circle. She cowered in fear as they advanced, their arrows growing closer to her shaking form. Forma flew into the trees and changed into herself as we landed, staying as silent and as still as possible.

“Please! I was only out looking for food!” cried the little girl.

“Andagmei, chugach me awana ji soto mach. Tar ishmak, uguro?” asked one of the warriors, his hands tightening around his bow.

“What did he say?” I asked. Forma had a flair for other languages and knew far more about foreign cultures than I did. Her knowledge was useful in situations such as this.

“’Anyone caught hoarding food for themselves and not placing it in the Supply for the greater good of Acavia will be tried with treason. You know this, right?’”

I said nothing; I could only stare open mouthed at the frightened girl and the encircling Treptiks.

“I’m so hungry! Please let me keep my berries! I can’t possibly wait until mealtime!” she cried, shaking in terror. My muscles stiffened as an overwhelming desire to help coursed through me. Forma held my wrist.

“Wait. There will be an opportune moment to act.”

I nodded and watched the action unfold; my hand hovered over the hilt of my Flamesword in anticipation.

The Treptik spoke once more and Forma translated again.

“’Since you have been seen and caught with food that is not of the Supply, you will be tried for treason. Do you know what that punishment entails?’”

“Please have mercy!”

The girl was shaking with such fear that it took every ounce of mental power to stop myself from acting.

“Take her,” ordered one of the Treptiks in English.

Two of the warriors clasped their scaly hands around the little girl’s forearms, clamping down with the hostile strength of the Amalekites. She cried out as they shoved her roughly along down the road with no regard to her age or fragility.

Forma and I watched in horror as they treated her like a convicted murderer, kicking and pushing her down the path. Once they were out of earshot, I dropped from the tree branch to the ground; my mouth still gaping at the blatant cruelty I had just witnessed.

“Forma, I have never seen anything like this,” I said in disbelief.

“What did you expect? They’re Treptiks, known for their dim-witted callousness. Ghengis Khan would have found them quite good company…”

I looked at Forma, who read my expression like an open book. She sighed and stood.

“Onward we go, then?” she said.

“Onward we go,” I answered, walking forward. Forma sighed again, voicing her disapproval of my plan.

“For the record, I don’t enjoy infiltrating foreign lands, especially those belonging to a race of creatures that could kill both of us without even trying.”

“Alright, it is now on the record. Anything else you’d like me to remember?”

Forma gave me a recalcitrant grin.

“As a matter of fact, there is. I did not approve of Rodag and he turned out to be a traitorous backstabber; I do not approve of the queen, either, for whom both of us were nearly killed because she trusted a traitorous backstabber and I am really not in favour of the idea of going inside a Treptik camp to save one little girl who, for all we know, could turn out to be a traitorous backstabber…”