Chapter XI - Impending Storm

Howling currents flowed through his body, making him unwind further. Lightning struck in the vicinity, and a piercing thunder followed. Vultures squawked, flapping their wings ferociously, as if trying to escape a monstrous entity. Shortly afterwards, rain fell. At first calm, then as if pouring from a well. The stone roof of his chamber muffled it, but it still sounded peaceful. Gakeh found it odd that humans often ran from storms, cowering away like rats. There was nothing to be afraid of. Nature was simply doing its thing.

His stripped body laid on the ground, cooling, being carried away by the sereneness unfolding outside. Not even Kalah could distract him from this moment. That wretched bastard already preoccupied him more than he would have liked to admit. After all, it was his duty to bring him down. Barely Dagham had the audacity to come out and state how he actually felt about Kalah. And what a sight that was. He’d been pondering on that moment constantly. Looping around in his mind like a squirrel fleeing atop a tree. His mouth twitched, fighting off against the desire to smile. Cursed be his body for it didn’t allow him to succumb to even the smallest of emotional moments. This was an important victory and yet, he could not savor it fully.

Fresh air invaded his nostrils. He inhaled, absorbing as much as he could and then let it all out in a flurry. Soon enough, the bell will ring and he will have to leave his chamber and begin his night. That time was yet to come. He already had too much on his plate that rest barely satiated him anymore. Thoughts upon thoughts, plans upon plans, his mind was in a constant tug-of-war with how to best approach the situation at hand. Where to start? Dagham felt like an obvious choice, the only one that managed to bring Gakeh the most intense feeling of happiness he’d ever felt. Only to instantly vanish like the rest of them. Then again, he did not seem like the most intelligent of the markins. That or maybe he just cannot hold his mouth from sprouting idiotic ideas. He could prove dangerous if the latter was true, for if Kalah got his hands on him, he could give him away and find out that the whole ‘valued opinions’ plan was a fraud. He rubbed his forehead, feeling the skin grow thicker under the moonlight. Headaches were a normal occurrence these days for him, which were strange, yet welcomed changes. Markins in pains from causes other than cuts and bruises? Intriguing concept. If only emotions were as pulsating and strong as the twinge in his skull, he wouldn’t lament so much in his quiet time. Cursed be his body for it stole such an interesting notion from them and left the markins in a losing fight against anger.

The bell rang, sending its well-known deafening clangs amidst the camp. Time for another night to begin. He dressed, left the chamber and joined the main hall, bowing alongside his brethren, Kalah already half-way through his dull speech. This idiotic way of empowering the markins grew staler with each new night. Kalah’s belief that a leader must hold constant lectures on how a markin must always steal, pillage and kill was exactly the thing keeping markins rooted in the same old beliefs and things that went nowhere. Among other things, of course. Reinstating the obvious proved that he had no place at the helm of such a mighty race. Instead, he could focus on empowering the markins to actually do something useful with their strength. To build something that would last and expand. Pathetic excuse for a ruler.

“Tonight… we march towards Galaria’s center, markins. We close our camp here and move it somewhere else. If the maps we gathered are true, then fresh blood awaits us in those parts, ready for a feast,” Kalah said, teeth visible behind twisted flesh.

Gakeh resisted the urge to glance up as his body stiffened. Move camp? The whole point of living in the woods close to Leehaeel Peak was that they were shrouded from the light of the sun. Humans barely traversed these parts of Galaria, it provided them with cover and a base of operations that mankind knows nothing about. Now why would they move it? To feed on even more blood? There were still villages left around, albeit few in numbers, but enough. Anger surged through him, making his jaw clench and nostrils flare. Rotten Kalah and his so-called plans. This vileness of his had to be put to rest. He had to be put to rest.

“I’m giving you a few hours to pack up, markins. Do not be late. As soon as the moon rises above the trees and is visible to all, we march!” he said, lifting a fist and exposing his hideous teeth for all to see.

Markins rose and cried out, their voices echoing in the narrow chamber. Then they marched out, leaving only a handful inside, Gakeh and Kalah included. He glanced at the commander and noticed a change in his appearance. Before Ozin, his face looked somewhat normal, albeit twisted and vile. Now however, it was beyond what he’d seen at any markin. His face was eating itself, pieces hanging loose, dangling in the air. The teeth grew thicker and uneven, resembling slim serrated blades. The bulging belly of before now sagged even lower, with a dominant curvature, obscuring more of his legs and impairing his movement. The pathetic markin from before now turned into a clump of flesh and jagged muscles, all bonded together as if made by a blind man missing an arm. Just what could attract such a transformation? The anger? Possibly. After all, the markin most infatuated with the pleasures of anger had always been Kalah. Was that the outcome for all markins if they gave too much into it, without exercising restraint? Fascinating.

“Markin!” came a shout which made Gakeh snap back in the present.

He peeked forward, noticing Kalah wave a hand for him to follow upstairs. Great. Hopefully this was not about Dagham or otherwise, his plan would crumble like ash. Striding forward, he followed behind the commander, eventually reaching his chamber. A tall ceiling carrying with it a sloped chandelier stood above them, candles hanging downwards, grease falling onto the cobblestoned floor with a splash. A rotten smell gathered his attention to the right, where human corpses laid atop one another, flies swarming across the room, eager to consume the flesh. Kalah trudged towards the excuse for a throne he had, stepping on pieces of glass and puddles of blood as he approached it. The moment he sat it released a roaring squeak. A ray of moonlight invaded the chamber, casting a dim light over a portion of his mouth. Two rows of pillars rose to Gakeh’s side, slightly angled as if someone breathed on them and they fell, with thin cracks sprouting unevenly. He touched one of them, dust piling on his fingers and falling onto the ground like bits of tiny stones. The commander squirmed in his throne, releasing a growling noise every time he breathed. For a moment, he wondered which one was in a worse shape – his commander or his commander’s chamber. Incapable of both running the markin company and of cleaning and maintaining his chamber. Finally hitting rock-bottom?

“Oversee the preparations. Make sure the markins don’t forget anything of use behind and make sure they have everything ready as soon as possible. Don’t waste time, markin,” Kalah said, gazing at the ground.

Gakeh strode forward, his head tilted narrowly to please the commander’s ego. Respect was something he demanded, yet rarely did something worth receiving it. Such is his markin way.

“My lord, I shall do as you command,” he replied, trying his best to keep displeasure from escaping in his voice.

Clearly the commander was not suspecting him, or otherwise he wouldn’t be this calm. Perhaps Dagham kept shut after all. Or perhaps Kalah was simply toying with him, leading him into a false sense of security and then pouncing at his throat like a leopard. But Gakeh doubted that was the case. Judging by his current state, there was no way he could do anything to him anymore. And the markins still look to him for guidance and leadership, even in this state.

Gakeh coughed. “I do have a question if you would allow me, my lord.”

The commander waved for him to speak.

“Why the sudden change? Is there a specific reason to move camp?”

“Human villages are dwindling, markin. You should know that better than I do. There’s barely any left near Leehaeel Peak. I believe word has been spreading, advising others to leave, seek shelter somewhere else. Some scouts I sent tell me that humans have been leaving in droves towards the center,” Kalah replied, his gaze barely shifting from the ground.

From someone demanding so much respect, he had no issues with giving none in return. Interesting way of acting, Kalah. Keep being like this. Keep ignoring the impending storm that will catch you unprepared. He spoke about the subject as being trivial, nothing more than a simple inconvenience that had to be dealt with. Murdering humans was a minor inconvenience to the leader of the markins. Pitiful is too kind a word to be wasted on him.

“I understand, my lord. Indeed, they have been cowering away lately, hoping to escape the grasp of the markins. Their attempts are futile. No one can escape the markin wrath.”

“Yes,” Kalah said, dragging the word like a lunatic, “they won’t escape us. Markins are a force that will soon be the only remaining race of Galaria. I’ll make sure of that myself. The blood, oh the blood is good. So… so good. We need… more of it,” he said, clutching a shaking fist.

Trivial was him and his foolishness, not mankind. Even the peasants near Leehaeel Peak had a higher intellect than him, and those people worked on fields all day, sweating like pigs. The more time he spent hunting people, the more he was losing himself, and he was barely aware of any of it. Before, Gakeh could at least have some conversations with him that didn’t stop at simply the idea of murdering and murdering and doing nothing else but murdering and feasting. Nowadays… every other word he mutters out of the rotten mouth of his is only about blood and how much he enjoys it.

“I need… fresh blood. I need humans,” he said, anger brewing on his face like boiling water.

“My lord… you gave us the command to prepare and move camp. Is this the ri-”

“Do not speak to me about the right times!” he snapped, lifting himself off the throne.

The growling of before only intensified, narrowed glowing eyes watching him from the darkness. Gakeh managed to strike a chord in the poor’s wretched heart, if there was any left in that petty excuse for a body the commander had.

“I apologize, my lord, I did not mean t-”

“You did it! You disrespected me, markin! All of you do! You do not understand the beauty… the… the… intensity… oh, how good it feels,” Kalah said, approaching with careful steps.

Teeth drooling arose in the faint moonlight. Sharp and hideous. Never before had Gakeh seen a markin portraying such a disgusting image. The light danced across his face, eventually revealing his eyes. Tears welled up in them, threatening to come down any moment. Gakeh was left stunned and he took a step back. Can they actually cry? Have different emotions besides anger? But then Gakeh understood that was not the case. Kalah stood a few inches from him, revealing himself completely. While the eyes held tears, the face belonged to a fiend, driven mad by anger. He gritted his teeth, ponds of saliva pouring onto the ground and eventually the tears flowed downwards, his eyes widened to the point of breaking the skin surrounding them.

“Markin, the anger… you know how it feels, how… good it feels. The blood is tasty, and invigorating! So invigorating! We must feast and keep on feasting for those… unworthy pieces of flesh belong to us. We do as we please.”

Kalah placed a palm on Gakeh’s chest, sharp nails digging themselves into his skin. He clenched it, struggling to pierce the thickness of it, but to no avail. Then Kalah grabbed him by the neck with a rigid, harsh arm and pulled him closer to his mouth, a rancid smell invading his nostrils, making him close his eyes due to its intensity.

“You have felt it… haven’t you?” Kalah said, suddenly more articulate in his words, “the anger. The power that it brings. The pleasures it gives us. Don’t lie to me, for I know you know how it feels.”

“I know how it feels, my lord.”

Kalah stepped back in a rush, looking into Gakeh’s eyes. “You do! Every markin knows and therefore we must all feast! That is why we are here, markin, this is our food, our means of survival. Stop asking me about such things, for humans are ours and we do as we please,” he said, turning and marching back to his throne, “ask Markos to find me some nearby. You carry out what I’ve given you and stop wasting my time.”

The commander sat on his throne and gazed back downwards, jolting like a shivering dog. The sound of tears landing on the cobblestone made Gakeh stand and watch for a brief moment, taking in the sight. What an excuse of a markin you are, Kalah. Crying like a little human girl, driven mad by the anger. Whatever laid in that shell was not Kalah anymore, just an animal lost to rage. And it was still at the helm of the markins, leading them. How can such foolishness be allowed? He could kill him right now, rip his arms and beat him with them, twist his neck and leave him squirming on the floor helpless. Where would the honor be in that? Markins don’t act like this, nor should they ever do. No, if he was going to do this, he was going to do it the right way. The markin way. Killing him like that not only would it be unfulfilling, it would also most likely attract a negative reception from his brethren, something he clearly didn’t need right now. Cowardice was an idea markins were strongly against and to do something like this meant to be just that – a coward. Openly challenging him would also prove difficult. There has to be a viable alternative that he can use.

“Leave my chamber, markin! Now,” the commander said.

Gakeh bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.”

Stepping out of his chamber and arriving back into the main hall, Gakeh noticed the markins already preparing to leave. Good. Overseeing the preparations should not be that hard to do. It wasn’t the first time Gakeh’s been tasked with it. The commander was too ‘busy’ to help his own race.

Markins marched sluggishly in and out of the main hall, looking as if they did not want to leave this place. Who would judge them? Leehaeel Peak had been the place that kept them safe for so long. Even if safety was a wild concept to think about when it came to the markin race. Humans needed to be safe, not them. Yet, they weren’t invincible. That was a lesson learnt back in Ozin.

Gakeh noticed a group of markins hauling out boxes of armor and weapons, a couple of them dangling and hitting. He joined them and proceeded to help his brethren carry them out of the main hall and into the camp.

“Heavy aren’t they?” Gakeh asked, gathering the markins’ attention.

“Somewhat. The balmaks will carry them, not us,” one of them muttered in reply.

“Thankfully. Imagine having to carry out all of these towards the center.”

“We would have carried them if the commander wanted,” the markin said assuredly.

Of course you would. What wouldn’t you do for your precious Kalah? Gakeh thought. Placing the boxes in the carriage, he eyed a scarred markin nearby, carrying meat and occasionally eating from it. Markos.

“Markos,” he said, lifting an arm to gather his attention.

The markin ignored him, paced forward towards another carriage and positioned the meat inside. Turning, he returned to where he came from in an effort to grab some more. Gakeh approached and called him again.

“What?” he replied in a disgruntled, deep voice.

“Kalah asked for you.”

Instantly, the markin dropped what he was doing and swiveled, eyeing Gakeh.

“What does the lord need from me?”

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What a foolish question. What would Kalah desire besides smashing human skulls? Was there anything else that preoccupied the wretched bastard?

Gakeh folded his arms. “He needs a feast. He asked for you to bring them to him.”

“Why me? The second in-command is unable to help the commander with what he needs?” he asked, leaning against a wall.

Gakeh stood for a moment, eyeing Markos. There was a clear defiance in him towards him, but why? He barely knew Markos and they rarely interacted, and yet the markin seemed to know Gakeh well enough to dislike him. Jealousy, perhaps? After all, whenever Kalah is mentioned, he lights up faster than a flame. If he believed the position of second-in-command was desirable, he couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“The commander asked me to oversee the preparations. Which means I’m unable to help him with this task and that is why,” he pointed a sharp finger at the markin “he needs you.”

Markos snorted. “What is there to oversee? The markins are capable of doing their job, with or without your observations. Our lord’s decisions are always right, but sometimes I wonder why he keeps you so close to him.”

Gakeh clenched his fists. The provocations were undoubtedly working on him, Markos managing to stir anger in him. That strong, intoxicating effect arrived in his body and immediately he envisioned himself smashing Markos’ face over and over again, until it turned flat as a piece of paper. Twitching, he tried pushing down on the rage.

“What? You are already angry, second-in-command? That is how easy you fall into temptation? Does our lord know how easily you fall?”

“I doubt the commander worries himself with my personal issues or those of the markins. I don’t see why my anger is a subject of interest to you, Markos. We’re all dealing with it after all.”

Markos tensed, rage brewing in his eyes. “Do not speak of our lord in such a manner! He is doing everything for us and has been doing since we arose in Leehaeel.”

Gakeh raised his palms as a sign of surrender. “Of course. I meant no disrespect to our commander and his rulership. What I meant was-”

“You believe yourself so intelligent, don’t you Gakeh? So above the rest of us.”

Gakeh allowed his arms to fall beside him, still keeping his eyes on Markos. Fury overtook him and his teeth began to show. The markin approached slowly, his eyes narrowing.

“I have no idea what our lord sees in you. Ever since we woke up, you have followed him, licked his arse like a mutt and did his bidding, trying your best to impress him. Just like a dog,” he said, already beginning to shake with rage.

Gakeh resisted the urge to give in to the temptation and focused on calming himself as much as possible. “Markos, whatever issues you have against m-”

“I have a lot of issues against you, markin,” he snapped, grabbing Gakeh by the chestpiece of his armor and gripping hard.

The camp ceased their tasks and gazed at them. You speak of my anger and yet you give in to it like a fiend, you bastard. Wrath started to seize Gakeh, and before he knew it, he bared his own teeth and his body became less of a burden, granting him the ability to frown. Worthless scum. Does he not understand that if Gakeh wanted, he could snap his neck in an instant and leave him squirming like a dying animal in a ditch? Such foolishness amidst their numbers must be eradicated.

“You inhabit that body, but it doesn’t belong to you. You don’t deserve it. You have the opportunity to be next to the commander, to do his bidding at all times, learn from his lordship and what do you do with it? Nothing! You waste it, markin, waste it on trying to show just how above the rest of us you are. Carrying yourself with confidence like there’s no one that comes close to you.”

“I suggest you let go of my armor,” Gakeh said, feeling saliva dripping down his mouth.

“Oh?” Markos asked, leaning closer. “What if I refuse? Will you go and tell on me to our lord, bring him here so he can teach me a lesson? He won’t do no such a thing! For I have been born to serve him and will do so for the rest of my days!”

“Need I remind you that I’m the second-in-command and not you? I have been chosen by our lord to be his right hand, not you? I have been the one to always carry out his most important tasks, not you? What have you done, Markos, besides feasting? What is the impact you-”

Markos cried out and shoved Gakeh to the side, unsheathing his axe. Dodging the strike, Gakeh stood and unsheathed his blade as well. The markins all came closer, watching from the sides, forming a circle around them.

“Your frustrations are puerile, Markos. Challenging me? Really? That’s what you believe will get you closer to the commander? You are either pathetic or a lunatic.”

“Oh, markin,” Markos said, his voice becoming less sane. “The commander shall see what I’m capable of and this way I’ll prove that you are worthless to him. I will earn the privilege you have and don’t deserve.”

From the sides, his brethren grew louder, more intense. They shouted and screamed like crazed animals. Gakeh glanced around, noticing the camp roaring and pushed down on his anger in an effort to control himself. He would not respond to those pitiful provocations from Markos. Those frustrations of his were not his problem, nor should they be. He would not give his brethren the same treatment Kalah does. He needs to be better.

Gakeh sheathed his blade and the crowd grew quieter, visibly confused by his action. “I won’t give you what you desire, markin. Cease this foolishness of yours and return to your duties. The commander asked for a feast. You see that he receives it,” Gakeh said, turning and leaving.

As he departed, he eventually heard a raging cry from Markos as he thumped the ground with his axe. Gakeh closed his eyes and breathed deeply, approaching the denser woods. How could they be so blind? How could they not see what was happening to them, how Kalah was leading them to becoming mindless beasts, falling more and more into the depravity of rage? Were they really that shortsighted?

Clatter sounded nearby. Gakeh opened his eyes forcefully and noticed a group of three markins chopping down woods for the trip that laid ahead. Further back, another group of markins returned with fresh kills hanging from their shoulders.

“Gakeh!” a markin said, dropping wood trunks as he approached.

He whirled and saw Dagham.

“Dagham. How are the preparations going?”

“Good. We chopped down a few trees to have for burning when we camp. The commander hates when we run out of wood and the road ahead won’t be short, would it now?”

Gakeh shrugged. “I have no idea how far the center is. Never been there. But Leehaeel Peak is rather large so I doubt other areas won’t be the same.”

Dagham rubbed his chin. “I do wonder what lies ahead. How many settlements do you think we’ll find?

“Probably a few. Hopefully many, or otherwise Kalah may be apprehensive. We don’t want our commander to lose his temper.”

Once again, his face fought back against his desire to laugh. Cursed be his markin body. Gakeh eyed Dagham and noticed the same thing happening to him. He could only guess he was trying to laugh as well. The more he looked at the markin, the more he began to assimilate him with a human child. Or to be more specific, the more he analyzed the markins, the more they all began to seem like that. As he scouted different places for Kalah’s raids, Gakeh did his best to understand human behavior, how they interact, how they live, what they do and so on. Human children were among the most fascinating topics to him, for all they did was… play. Enjoying the world that surrounded them with seemingly no worries about danger or threats. Constantly being led by someone older than them which they called ‘mother’ and ‘father’ and being taught about the world by said individuals. Just like Kalah ‘teaches’ them about the world that surrounds them, if that can be categorized as teaching. Such simplicity. They did not need to worry about anything for all was provided to them. They just had to take it. So innocent and curious. So… kind. Markins were far from that, that was true, but there was a resemblance in their behaviors. Earlier, Markos thumped the ground out of frustration instead of acting like a reasonable markin. Now, Dagham asks Gakeh questions like he is supposed to have answers to everything. And above all, they all looked to Kalah for guidance and they were completely submitted to his will. Exactly like a child would do with said mother and father. Interesting.

“Anyway,” Dagham said, forcing Gakeh back into the discussion, “was the commander upset about what I said? Did he… say anything?”

If only you knew my plan, Dagham. How much less I’d have to lie to you if you knew.

“He found your opinion interesting and said he appreciates it.” Gakeh said, interlacing his fingers.

“Really? That’s good. I thought he would be angered by it,” he replied, scratching his long hair.

“Why would he be angry by it?”

“Well… because… you know how he tends to be. Hardly any of us talk to him and when we do… he usually grows furious.”

“Indeed. That shouldn't be a reason to not give your opinion on matters that concern us all. After all, Kalah is leading the markin race.”

“Yes, you are correct. I will keep that in mind. Still… there is this vague feeling about him that I sometimes have.”

“Like you want to run away? Hide?” Gakeh asked.

“Yes. Exactly like that. Although it is faint and disappears almost instantly, it’s present whenever the commander is in the same room as me.”

“Humans call it ‘fear’.”

“Fear… it sounds dangerous,” Dagham said.

“Indeed. It’s also useful. It allows us to understand when something is threatening us. If you feel that way about the commander…” Gakeh said, resting a hand on his shoulder, “Well, you are not alone, Dagham. I sometimes have that sensation.”

“They said they felt the same thing sometimes.” Dagham said, turning and pointing to a group of markins standing behind him, hauling pieces of wood and placing them in a cart.

“Did they?” Gakeh asked, walking alongside him towards the group.

Fascinating! More markins actually felt like him when it came to Kalah. This could prove to be incredibly useful. He needs to be careful though. If Vaham and Markos are something to go by, he could find himself in trouble if there were more like them. However, if the current state of Kalah meant something, Gakeh figured he wouldn't pose much of a threat anymore. The ones fully devoted to him could instead.

“Markins, lord Gakeh is here.”

The markins knelt to show their respect. Sometimes Gakeh forgot just how much of an important figure he was among them. Maybe he ought to lean more into that in the future and actually use his position to disrupt Kalah further. How to do that effectively though?

“I appreciate your sign of respect, but please rise. Only the commander deserves such a thing, not me,” he said, forcing himself to be as humble as possible in their eyes.

“Nonsense!” Dagham said, “You are the second-in-command. The one that carries out the most important and dangerous tasks for the commander. You should receive respect just as our commander does.”

Dagham spoke with devotion, almost like Kalah meant nothing more than a simple markin, nothing more than a simple brethren. In stark contrast to Markos who clearly made his point known about how much he loved the commander, almost on the verge of busting in his chamber and licking his disgusting feet and then parading with that detail in the markin camp. Where was this all leading to? A rupture? No, Gakeh couldn’t allow that. If the markins were going to build an actual nation, an empire as he’d always envisioned it, their forces had to be united, to stand together as one. Halving their race was surely going to impair their growth even further than Kalah already was doing. There was only one thing they all needed to focus on – expansion.

“Kind words, Dagham. I appreciate your sincerity.”

“Of course. You gave me an idea when you asked me about my opinion and so I thought to ask others about theirs. Rihik and Onhik have some thoughts.”

That did not sound good. Just where exactly had Dagham been speaking his mind and to how many markins? Without a doubt this could turn into a catastrophe if word travelled for too long. The fewer knew about this, the better in the long run. At least for now.

“The commander is sure to find your input useful,” Gakeh said, folding his arms.

“He doesn’t look like he enjoys hearing opinions from us,” one of them said, the one called Rihik.

“Maybe we don’t know him well enough, Rihik. After all, he is our leader, he must show strength, he must guide us as best as possible, and that may mean he doesn’t get the chance to hear our thoughts about him,” Onhik said.

Rihik eyed Onhik. “Our lord is strong. He’s brought us so many victories and feasts that our opinion of how he leads us has become unimportant. He knows who he is.”

“I disagree,” Dagham intruded. “Gakeh is always close to Kalah, he knows him better than any of us could. There is no denying how many good things he brought us, but there is also no denying that we… haven’t really advanced much. Maybe we should bring this matter to many other markins, to see what they believe the right way is.”

Onhik nodded. “We are all markins. While the feasts are nice, the anger is so… so good, we need to be more than this. We can be more than just this,” he said, gesturing towards the camp.

Gakeh and Dagham nodded, while Rihik gazed at the ground, pondering. “I agree that our commander has a tendency to… allow himself to be led by fury, constantly tossing us into raids and massacres. But that is our nature, markins, we have arose to be this way. Don’t tell me that the moment we woke up in Leehaeel that you hadn't felt this… need to slaughter? To feast on the blood?” Rihik said, motioning to make his point understood better.

“We can be more than that, Rihik. We can be so much more. Imagine having a nation as big as that of humans made out of markins,” Onhik said.

Rihik snorted. “We don’t meddle with humans, Onhik. How do you propose we build a nation when there’s less than a hundred left of us?”

“We do exactly that,” Dagham said, “humans and markins shouldn’t be enemies. Instead of raiding constantly, we could create a new generation of markins, better than we currently have. And at the helm,” Dagham glanced at Gakeh, “should be someone that cares about his brethren enough to descend to their level and talk to them, to be one among them.”

Rihik tensed. “You are speaking of overthrowing Kalah? Careful with your choice of words, Dagham! We may speak about such things, but taking action against our own commander? That is not the markin way.”

Gakeh raised his hand. “I’m sure that’s not what he proposed, right Dagham?”

Dagham gazed at the ground. “No… I didn’t mean to say that. I couldn’t bring myself to betray our commander. But you know what I’m trying to say, Rihik.”

“What I know,” he said, closing in on Dagham “is that while this idea of building something bigger sounds great, we are meant to follow Kalah. Such is the markin way. Even if his decisions are not the best, we follow him,” he whirled and strode by them, pushing a cart back into the camp where other markins were still making preparations for their departure, “and we trust in his ability to lead us to a better future.”

Not good. There was still this blindness to a lot of the markins, a blindness that keeps them trapped in this idea that Kalah is the only option they have. The only one that can be their ruler. Even if he looks more like an animal nowadays than an actual proper markin. Oh, poor markins. How has their race fallen into such wrongful dedication? A faint sensation of… sadness made Gakeh’s eyes jolt as they tried to frown, only to disappear in an instant. What do I need to do to make you open your eyes?

Dagham came beside Gakeh. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No. You did not. The commander will surely find this new set of details interesting. Maybe this way he can make some meaningful changes in the camp.”

“Yes, that sounds great. Who knows, maybe we actually have a chance at building something greater. Hopefully our commander sees the things as we see them.”

Both Dagham and Onhik left Gakeh carrying carts of wood inside the camp. He stood for a little longer, pondering on the conversation they shared. Clearly, Dagham began to see him as a substitute for Kalah, and Onhik didn’t oppose that idea. If his plan was complicated before, now it surely was going to delve into chaos if this was the path they were headed. Whatever awaited the markins beyond this point, most likely didn’t involve them sticking as a unified force. Believing Kalah was the only one capable of leading and that no one else should have the right to that authority would make sure of that. Pitiful. But if it meant Gakeh was going to be named commander, then perhaps he ought to take this route. Even if it meant the start of a civil war between his brethren. Even if the pain that scenario would inflict upon him would be too much to bear. Wretched Kalah, he thought as his jaw clenched and fury began to pour in. Gakeh punched a nearby tree, shaking him violently and leaving a mark on it. I’ll never forgive you for what you turned the markins into, you vile bastard. Your death shall be the first and last killing that I make aroused with rage by my own choice!