The Gathering Storm

A Meeting of Warriors

The air in the War Planning Room of Boulderkeep Stockade was thick with the scent of burning resin, metal, and ink, a mixture of old traditions and the relentless mechanics of war. Tlandar stood across from Chieftain Val'katl, their gazes locked as the holographic war table flickered between past skirmishes and future battle projections.

This was the seat of Val'katl's command.

Tlandar had won the Valiant Contest. He had earned the respect of Val'katl's warriors. But now, words and tactics would decide the next war.

Val'katl's fingers hovered over the holographic display, tracing the serpentine river that ran straight east from the Great Lake, cutting across Val'katl's easternmost borderlands.

"The Plains of Leipira," he said, his voice steady. "Where Ixtiel's forces have gathered for five years."

Tlandar had read the battle reports before coming to Boulderkeep, but now he was seeing the full weight of the war in real-time.

The eastern plains were riddled with enemy encampments, supply chains, and fortified positions near the river delta. Ixtiel's army had spread its influence across the region, growing bolder with each passing year.

And Boulderkeep stood at the edge of it all.

Val'katl gestured toward the southern end of the Great Lake, where the city-state of New Asemeri sat behind its impenetrable energy barrier.

"This war should have ended already," he said. "But Rasnar and his council refuse to act."

Tlandar exhaled slowly. "They believe they are safe behind their walls."

Val'katl scoffed. "Walls do not stop war. They only delay it."

He turned back to the holomap. "They watch from their towers while my warriors bleed." His fingers hovered over a red-marked section of the plains, close to the river delta. "But if we hesitate any longer, Ixtiel will have no need for strategy—he will simply overwhelm us."

Tlandar studied the terrain, his mind already calculating formations, supply lines, weaknesses in enemy movement.

"The river delta is a problem," he said. "It's too exposed. Ixtiel has the tactical advantage if we engage there."

Val'katl nodded. "Exactly. He has fortified his position, but he has become comfortable." A rare smirk crossed his scarred face. "And comfort breeds mistakes."

Tlandar's expression darkened. "Then we need to make him believe he is winning—until he isn't."

A low chuckle rumbled from Val'katl's chest. "You think like a warrior who has already fought wars."

Tlandar met his gaze. "War does not wait for permission. It only takes."

Val'katl's approving nod was slight.

---

A Shifting Alliance

Tlandar took a step forward. "You called for aid across Astashica, and Salgar answered. I am here with my two hundred pilots and Formicrons—trained, tested, and ready."

Val'katl listened, arms crossed.

"Chieftain Salgar sent us to fight alongside you, not for you. We are here to ensure that Val'katl prevails—not only against Ixtiel but against what comes after."

Val'katl's brow furrowed slightly. "And what comes after?"

Tlandar glanced back at the holographic map, his fingers moving across the digital projection toward the seas beyond the warfront.

"Cosmus," he said.

A silence settled over the chamber.

For a moment, even the distant sounds of warriors training in the halls beyond the planning room seemed to fade.

Val'katl's jaw tightened. "Cosmus watches from the oceans, untouched by war. His Defiance Vanguard is still the most dangerous ship on this planet."

Tlandar nodded. "And while we bleed here, he strengthens his rule over the seas. He does not act because he does not have to."

Val'katl's voice was like steel. "For now."

Tlandar turned to him. "But once Ixtiel falls?"

The war chieftain remained silent.

They both knew the answer.

If Val'katl and Salgar won the war on land, Cosmus would have no enemies left to weaken each other.

And then he would strike.

Val'katl finally sighed, rolling his shoulders, loosening the tension in his frame. He turned toward Tlandar, speaking without the weight of politics or tactics—just as one warrior to another.

"I do not trust Salgar," he admitted.

Tlandar remained quiet, letting him continue.

"She has always played her own game. She sends you to me, but not her warriors. She offers assistance, but not commitment. Why?"

Tlandar exhaled.

"She sees further than most," he said. "Further than you or I."

Val'katl scoffed. "Then she should act, not watch."

"She does both," Tlandar replied. "She sent me."

The chieftain considered him for a long moment.

Then, with a slow nod, he finally spoke the words that sealed their alliance.

"Then you will fight at my side."

---

The Road to War

The holomap flickered, shifting to a live feed of Val'katl's forces mobilizing along the warfront.

Tlandar adjusted his command helmet, its golden Asemeri symbols shimmering in the dim light.

"We strike soon, then?"

Val'katl turned back to the war map, his finger pressing on the river delta near Ixtiel's encampment.

"No," he said. "Not yet."

Tlandar raised an eyebrow. "Then what's the next move?"

Val'katl's expression was unreadable.

"We let Ixtiel think he is winning."

Tlandar listened as the war chieftain laid out his strategy, the beginnings of a final battle forming in the air between them.

When they left the chamber, war would follow.

And Astashica's fate would never be the same again.