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A Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts Chp 7: Interlude: D’jet

  

A Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts Chp 7: Interlude: D’jet

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Commissioned by Citino

Wordcount: 2500

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The battle is over, yet the war father anticipated crested the horizon. Quick was the approach of what would decide the fate of all the tribes and oases of the Great Desert. Conflict with all others who vied for power from within the limits of the sand and beyond it will embroil all into battle after battle, which will leave only one victor, who will forevermore call upon all the horrors and wealth of the sands as their own.

Nothing makes it more evident than the nature of those who attacked us. 

Those banished from the Tribes, who wear the shells and hides of monsters, and are left to survive the sands on their own ought to never be able to amass enough force to assault any tribe. The banished are left to their solitary existences, never to be aided or taken in by other tribes, and to make their own paths in the world by their own hands. 

Yet, today, a score of the As’Kari lie dead at the hands of what are supposed to be mere vagrants. Vagrants meant to only have what they can scavenge and hunt with their own hands, have amassed such numbers that they were able to overwhelm the perimeter, and strike with such violence and speed during the evening that they were able to endanger the lives of those who cannot fight. They overwhelmed the farthest patrols, overcame the line of aspiring warriors learning to stand guard, and marched into the camp before the veterans could arm themselves and march in force.

If not for the actions of a few, many who relied upon the strong to protect them, would’ve have perished before their time.

All at the hands of those who are supposed to have only what they can make with their own hands. 

The other tribes are rallying against us. 

From the mighty Va’Risa who have much pride in their steeds to the Jo’Gren who swim through the sands to ambush their foes, all the tribes of the dessert are allying themselves to match the strength of the As’Kari. And, as they ally and bring together their tribes, they will find the Great Dessert small and smaller, as many hands work together, bringing more food and wealth to the tribe, and more are born to do more work. 

Father believes that if all the tribes of the dessert came together as one, that singular one will not be able to survive the harshness of our mother’s sands. Even if all were set to hunt, to harvest, and to breed the livestock, the dessert will be unable to support the number of people born from our combined people. Thus, if the final tribe composed of all cannot be, then that final tribe can only be composed of the few.

And, lo, war comes for all for the sake of being the few in that singular tribe.

Nothing shall be exempt from the coming war. Aid shall be called upon from beyond the sides, who shall provide aid in hopes to gain relations with the victor. Traditions shall be broken, because in this new age of the Great Dessert, new traditions, legends, and virtues shall be created from chaos and misery of conflict. Vagrants will be gathered and sent against other Tribes to fight without markings. Dreadful poisons shall coat the spears and arrows of all, as to ensure death or suffering of warriors. Hospitality and care shall be discarded to visitors and be replaced by paranoia and isolation. 

The coming age is one where many generations shall fight and die, until the sands run scarlet instead of gold, and a tribe above all tribes shall rise.

Yet, despite knowing this himself, the As’Kari’s greatest mind would rather be exiled than help us end it earlier, faster, and with less bloodshed, by fighting for us instead of saving the lives of our foes.

The gulf between my father’s strength and my own lessened with every day. Though the weathers of age will never reach him, he has reached the apex of his power, as he was born to the As’Kari before they were strong enough to amass and invest into children the gifts of the dessert. As a child, he never consumed the black hearts of the G’ru, the yellow stems of the golden, desert roses, and been blessed to eat more than the flesh of beetles and bread of mealworms, while I have. 

The limits of my body are beyond him, and at the apex of my strength, he shall be to me as a novice warrior is to a master. 

However, as he once again protects him from me, I am aware that day has yet to come.

Not even clad in his armor, nor even wielding his mightiest weapons, he has felled me. My spittle is scarlet upon the sands, as I cough up blood, and feel the bones within my chest realign and breathing return. While his bare-handed blows broke my bones, I left only purpling, yellowing bruises upon his hide and injured his muscle. The singular blow I landed on his face broke my knuckles upon his forehead, and even though I drew blood, he was not in the slightest broken by my blow. 

Finally, even as I desperately tried to quell my rage and anger, he looked upon me only with worry and care whilst blood fell from his forehead, trailed down his cheeks, and fell from the tip of his chin onto the sands before the tent where our undeserving foes were being kept alive instead of being slain.

“Daughter, the day will come when you will be able to defeat me in battle, but it is not this day. So, instead, seek victory through other means than combat.” Both our guards were sent out to find and destroy the rest of the vagrant attackers, so we were both alone. He could speak to me as he wished amongst his trusted guards and my own, but he preferred to play the boisterous god of war instead of the sage warrior in the eyes of those he did not consider kin by either battle or blood. “Persuade me, instead of trying to overcome me. Overwhelm your anger, force it to calm, and fight with your mind.”

Though he spoke sense and rationality, and I heard his words, I could not stop myself from rising after clearing my lungs of blood, forcing my hand into a fist once again, and readying to fight once more.

“Very well, then.” My father sighed and shook his head. I did not strike at the opening his actions presented, instead I recaptured my breath and channeled my anger. “Let us—

Before father could finish speaking, the entrance to the tent opened to unleash the child that vexed me to the point of madness. The orphan entrusted to my family, as his parents refused to raise him, and who partook in all offered by my father for a period of years, before deciding himself of age, passing the trials involved, and forging his own path on the outskirts of the tribe. His mind had scholars clamor for his attention and plead to be his students. He hunted feared beasts without losing a single life amongst his retinue. And, finally, the sole individual in the tribe I offered a seat in my future council and refused me. 

He called himself Will, and took no family name, despite being offered “Is.”

He could have been my brother, or my closest advisor, instead he has spurned both choices to save the lives of those who harmed the As’Kari, while my father protected him!

“They are all no longer going to die.” His face was pale and his eyes sunken, while white-hair stuck to his brow. The enemies of our clan received the same treatment as my father. Their wounds were mended by his inner flame, after their own flames were expended against my people. Heavy breaths left his lips, while he walked upright only through sheer will. “Their fates are yours to decide, Kan’Is.”

Despite his expended energies and tired form, with just a single phrase, he set my blood to boil.

“Then, you wasted yourself upon them for no reason! Their fate is death!” I was aware of my father’s gaze as I spoke. Never did I feel my heart speed so strongly, nor my patience to grow so thin, unless I spoke to Will. The grating, animalistic growl that was my words frightened me, yet they left me nonetheless, as I looked upon him after he uttered words that once again betrayed his madness. “You save their lives only for them to die in comfort!”

Will did not answer me, but my father did.

“No, he did not. By saving their lives, he has given us something we would’ve lost by simply killing in anger.” This time my father’s voice was cold instead of warm. Hearing him speak past me, considering my anger and rage meaningless, brought a frigid wind into my veins. Father rarely spoke to me in such a manner, and each time chilled me to my core. This time was no exception. “In battle, you, I, and all our warriors forgot to spare a single foe. We killed to quell the rage within our hearts, while forgetting a sacred teaching of our people: the dead cannot aid the living.”

At those words, Will gave the slightest of nods.

“House them well, feed them, and guard them at all times. Offer them freedom, gifts, or better accommodations, whilst having them speak to one another… and have all the guards listen to their every word.” Will spoke to father as he did to the scholars who requested his presence every day. Concise, clear instruction left his lips, even while his eyes were heavy and his entire form threatened to fall into slumber as he stood before us both. “Killing them and torturing them will only gain you lies, spite, and vengeance, while hope and kindness will see them loosen their tongues. After they do, then I leave the As’Kari’s justice to you, Shu’Ann.”

With those words, he began to walk towards his home, far from the rest of the tribe, and filled with foreigners who feared him, despite saving their lives. I did not want him to do so. What I yearned for was an explanation. No. Not just one. I wanted all that he could give. Everything about him, all his secrets, all his plans, and all his desires, I wished to know of all of them, so that the unending, mad confusion that I had about him would end. If he relinquished all those too me, I know that my anger would fade, that I would treat him as father does, and trust in him.

Yet, I couldn’t say those words as he walked past me, and could only look upon his back as he once again left me behind.

Every day, I felt the chasm between my strength and that of my father’s growing smaller and smaller. One day, I will surely become the blade which the As’Kari will use to claim the entire dessert. Backed by both my peers, those raised to be the strongest, and the strongest of the pervious generation, I shall surely endure, overcome, and rise triumphant over all the bloodshed and pain that encroaches upon all the Tribes.

However, with Will, the chasm grew incessantly. Every moment I looked upon him, it seemed as though he was figure far in the horizon, steadily becoming as small as a grain of sand, as an abyss of darkness loomed between us. His strength, skill, and knowledge outstripped all others, yet he provided all he could without qualm or desire for influence. While he could certainly kill my father or myself in combat, becoming one of the strongest in the Great Dessert with utter ease, he did not no matter how many insults I hurled upon him, or all the requests my father sent his way. 

I could only reach him through anger, to which he would respond with either silence or understanding, before continuing to walk his path and showing me that I am wrong… and leaving me to learn from my mistake without a single chastising word. Incessantly, irrevocably the distance between he and I will grow until I can no longer reach him no matter I try. My father’s shadow was long and tall in the flickering lamplight. Nonetheless, I felt comfort from it, as I felt hidden away from the world.

“I’ve told you this before, but I know I need to say it again: when he told me, he wished to stand on his own, I should have refused him.” Father’s voice was once again caring and compassionate. Though I didn’t raise my head to meet his eyes, let alone his face, I didn’t need to search his face for falsehood. Perhaps, if we were others, he would lie to save face and remain the glorious warrior god of the As’Kari, but not whilst we were alone. “He needed more than his wisdom and intelligence. He needed to know others more, to care for them with his heart as well as his mind. He and you ought to have grown together for more years than you had.”

I’ve heard the words before, as I’ve confided in my father my fears and thoughts, and again his admittance of regret did little to curb the trembling I felt within my heart. No matter what I do, no matter what fault I try to find in Will, he continuously proves to be infallible, incredible, and isolated. Upon the pillar he stands upon, he allows no one else by his side, and withholds his truths and intentions until it is too late and harsh words are expressed.

“It is not your fault, Father. He makes this path arduous and dangerous on his own.” Will has chosen his role. He wishes to be alone, to push all others away, and to suffer all his loses without help. While all his deeds and merits find their way to the As’Kari, he asks for nothing, and refuses all titles and honors father wishes to give him. While those who attacked us were forced to be outcasts, he has chosen to be an outcast, and I hate him for it. The path he has chosen is bereft of care and compassion for himself, while he gives both to even the unworthy. “But I will walk it. He will not defeat me. I will make him acknowledge me.”

“…Good.”

Therefore, knowing all of that, I am grateful for all that I have been given to protect the As’Kari. Though I have been raised to rule, to wage war, and to come out as the victor in the horrible war to come, all my advantages over my father allow me to reach Will, as well. Not only that, but to reach for him is the same as reaching for victory.

The only one who can hope to bring him to heel, to make him acknowledge others, would be an indomitable, wise, and capable Shu’Ann that he has no choice but to acknowledge.

I will become that Shu’Ann.


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