The dwarves had lost so many to this monstrous beast and its herd. Her anger had been palpable, and Kael hadn't questioned it. But now, as she knelt there, her movements seemed… deliberate, almost secretive.
Was she hiding something? Or was she simply caught up in the aftermath, letting the weight of her emotions get the better of her?
He crossed his arms, brow furrowing as he watched her rise slowly, brushing the dirt from her hands. She glanced up toward him, and for a fleeting moment, their eyes met. Kael noticed a flash of something in her gaze—hesitation? No, not quite.
It was more like she was guarding something. But before he could read further into it, Gwenbelle turned away.
Maybe it was nothing. After all, she had just faced the beast that had taken the lives of her kin. Dwarves were known for holding grudges longer than most races lived, and revenge was a bitter flame that burned hot.
Perhaps that's all it was—her victory now tinged with the cold realization of what had been lost. Still, Kael couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. Something deeper.
He looked back at the Boar King, its ear flaps limp, the marking obscured from his view. It was just a beast, wasn't it? A creature born of this wild, unforgiving land.
Yet, in Gwenbelle's silence, there was something Kael couldn't quite place. She wasn't usually one to hold her tongue, especially not after a fight like this.
"Seraphs," Kael ordered, shaking off the uneasy feeling gnawing at the back of his mind. "Once the hull is repaired, set up defense boundaries and ensure we have enough resources harvested. We're not letting our guard down."
He returned his gaze to the battlefield, the weight of command settling back onto his shoulders. The victory had been hard-fought, but the damage was evident.
The hull of the village had taken several hits, the sails torn by flying debris, and the Seraphs and Valks had suffered losses—though most were superficial, three Valks had been punctured, leaking that strange blue liquid from their wounds. It would take time to repair them, time they didn't have much of.
"Keep the focus on the repairs," Kael ordered one of the nearby Seraph. "And make sure the Scorpio is restocked. I want us ready for anything."
As the Seraph moved to carry out his orders, Kael took one last look toward the Boar King. The massive beast lay still, its tusks half-buried in the dirt. It was a trophy of their victory, but something about it lingered in his thoughts, a whisper of doubt. Perhaps it was Gwenbelle's strange behavior, or perhaps it was simply the remnants of battle weighing on him.
Whatever it was, Kael couldn't help but feel that this was far from over. The Boar King might be dead, but the mystery surrounding this land—the strange machines, the hidden dangers—felt like they were only just beginning to unravel.
For now, though, Kael put those thoughts aside. There were repairs to be made, orders to be given, and preparations to be set. The battle was done, but the war against this land had only just begun.
Gwenbelle climbed back onto the floating village, her steps quick but deliberate. She approached Kael with an urgency in her eyes, but her expression was measured, almost too controlled for the situation.
"I need to tell Buinn about the Boar King's death," she said, her voice steady but carrying a weight beneath the words. She avoided Kael's gaze as she spoke, focusing instead on the ground beneath her boots. "He'll want to know firsthand. Before we do anything else."
Kael studied her for a moment, his brow slightly furrowed. Gwenbelle wasn't one to hesitate, and this sudden need to share the news with Buinn struck him as odd. But there was something else in her tone—something guarded. She wasn't telling him everything, but what that might be, Kael couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Sure," he said, his voice casual, almost dismissive. "Buinn should know, of course."
Gwenbelle nodded, a flicker of relief crossing her face. "And… one more thing. Don't touch the Boar King's body just yet. Buinn will want to see it whole. It's important."
This time, Kael paused. *Why the hesitation?* he thought, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to read her. She was hiding something—he was sure of it now. Yet, there was no malice in her request, no hint of deception that concerned him. If anything, it felt like she was protecting something, something tied to her dwarven heritage. But Kael wasn't one to press too hard where others preferred silence.
"Fine," he replied with a wave of his hand, brushing aside whatever strange instinct was nagging at him. "We'll leave the beast untouched for now. But don't take too long. The last thing we need is that carcass attracting more predators."
"Thank you," she said, her voice quick, almost hurried. She turned away, making her way toward Buinn's quarters before he could ask anything further.
Kael watched her for a moment, the nagging feeling still lingering in the back of his mind. Gwenbelle was never one to ask for special requests without reason. But whatever she was hiding, it didn't seem to be anything that would harm their plans. Not yet, at least. He chalked it up to the dwarves' secretive nature—clan matters, perhaps. Old grudges, ancient bloodlines, those things always mattered more to them than outsiders could understand.
Turning his gaze back to the jungle below, Kael's thoughts shifted to more immediate concerns. The battle had taken its toll on their forces, and though they had emerged victorious, the damage was plain to see. The Seraphs were still hard at work, repairing the village's hull and sails, while others worked on tending to the injured Valks.
"Seraphs, continue clearing the thorny brush around the area," Kael commanded. "I don't want us getting ambushed during the night. Make sure we have a wide enough perimeter."
The Seraphs acknowledged with their usual efficiency, setting to work on hacking away at the thick undergrowth that had once hidden the Boar King's lair. The jungle was treacherous, dense with thorns and tangled roots that had claimed more than a few fallen warriors over the years. If they didn't clear the area, they could easily be caught off guard by other creatures lurking in the shadows.
Kael turned his attention back to the task at hand, though Gwenbelle's request lingered at the edge of his mind. The Boar King's carcass still lay where it had fallen, massive and unmoving, its thick hide torn by the battle but its presence still commanding even in death. There was something about the beast that unnerved him. Perhaps it was the way Gwenbelle had looked at it, as if seeing more than just an enemy slain.
But he pushed the thought aside once more. For now, there were more pressing matters to attend to. They had won the battle, but the jungle was not yet conquered. There were other dangers ahead, and the mountain loomed on the horizon, its secrets waiting to be unearthed.
The day stretched long after the fight with the Boar King, the air heavy with the scent of earth and blood. The Seraphs and Valks had worked tirelessly since the battle, clearing the thorny thicket and carving a semblance of order from the chaos. The floating village drifted in the sky above, a silent sentinel as the Seraph units worked below, their mechanical limbs moving with precise efficiency. Kael had taken a moment to oversee the repairs, his thoughts still lingering on the victory but already shifting toward the next challenge.
It was late in the afternoon when a Seraph approached, carrying something unusual. Kael, his curiosity piqued, watched as the machine unfolded its hand to reveal a stone block, weathered by time and covered in runic symbols. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the markings, the same ancient etchings that adorned the floating village's sewer system, the runes that powered the very heart of this strange vessel.
Kael took the stone from the Seraph's outstretched hand, its weight solid and cold in his palm. The symbols were intricate, each line and curve telling a story he could not yet decipher. His pulse quickened with the possibilities. These were no ordinary ruins the Seraphs had uncovered—this was something far older, a relic from an age long forgotten, and tied, somehow, to the mysteries that kept this village aloft.
"Where did you find this?" Kael asked, his voice steady but laced with urgency.
The Seraph led him to the site—a patch of forest that had been half-cleared, nature's harsh hand still evident in the overgrowth that choked the crumbled remains of stone structures. Moss and vines had claimed most of it, but here and there, the bones of ancient architecture stood defiant, as though waiting to be discovered once more.
Kael's eyes swept over the ruins. *A forgotten place,* he thought, his mind racing through possibilities. Had it once been a settlement, like the floating village, or something older still? He felt the pull of it, the need to uncover more. But something in his gut told him to tread carefully, to wait before diving deeper.
He turned to the Seraphs. "Keep the area undisturbed for now," he ordered. "Mark it on our maps, but do not dig further until we know more."
The machines nodded, their compliance swift and silent, and Kael turned back toward the village. His thoughts were already with Gwenbelle—she would know more of the ancient runes, more of what this place could mean. *I'll discuss it with her over dinner,* he thought, the anticipation building.
But dinner came, and Gwenbelle did not appear.
Kael sat at the long table in the village's dining hall, the meal before him untouched as the minutes ticked by. The hall was quieter than usual, the Seraphs and Valks taking their rest after the day's exertions. He waited, expecting her to walk in any moment with that determined stride, the fire of battle still in her eyes.
But instead, it was one of the Valks who approached, offering a quick bow before delivering the message: "Gwenbelle is dining with Buinn tonight, still in discussion, sir."
Kael felt a flicker of disappointment, though he tried to brush it aside. Whatever business she had with Buinn, it must be important—dwarven matters, most likely. The two had been thick in conversation since the battle, Gwenbelle's mood sharp and secretive. He had noticed it but hadn't pressed her, trusting that she would come to him when she was ready.
Still, there was something nagging at him, a sense that she was holding something back.
*Perhaps it's nothing,* he thought, though the unease lingered. He stood from the table, leaving his meal untouched, and turned toward his quarters, his mind already drifting back to the ruins, the runes, and the mysteries that seemed to pile upon one another in this strange land.
Gwenbelle could wait until tomorrow. But the feeling gnawed at him. What could she and Buinn be discussing so late into the night? And why had she chosen to keep her distance after their victory?