Chapter 70: The Chief’s Curiosity

"Brain Eater," she called coldly,

I looked up.

"Yes, Your Chiefness?"

One of her eyebrows rose.

"Your what?"

"Chiefness. It’s a word. I’m making it one."

She stared at me for a moment before a faint smile touched her lips.

"Come with me. I want to speak with you."

Talia immediately looked between us.

"What do you need to speak to him about?"

Zarvessa’s expression cooled.

"Something that doesn’t concern you."

Talia’s lips tightened, but before she could respond, I raised a hand.

"It’s fine. I’ll be back before anyone has the chance to miss me too much."

I turned towards Gunther.

"If I’m not back in ten minutes, avenge me."

He gave me a flat stare.

"Wonderful. I knew I could count on you."

I followed Zarvessa across the clearing, leaving the others behind.

She led me towards a narrow passage between two stone buildings, where the noise of the settlement gradually faded.

We passed a stack of firewood and a small garden surrounded by a low wooden fence before reaching a secluded courtyard.

A stone basin stood beneath a broad tree near the far wall.

Its branches cast broken shadows over the ground, and a small stream of water trickled from a carved stone spout into the basin.

Red flowers grew along the edges of the courtyard, their petals bright against the dark soil.

Beyond the wall, I could hear the distant sounds of the settlement, but nobody was close enough to overhear our conversation.

Zarvessa stopped beside the basin and turned towards me.

"Wait here."

I glanced around.

"Planning to execute me in private? I must admit, that’s considerably more considerate than doing it in front of everyone."

She laughed softly.

"You really can’t help yourself, can you?"

"It’s a condition. Very serious. The doc...healers say I have no chance of recovery."

"There are healers who treat that?"

"No, but I thought it sounded convincing."

She shook her head, smiling as she turned to face me properly.

"You’re an odd creature, Sylas."

"I’ve been called worse."

"I imagine you have."

Her smile lingered for another moment before she glanced towards the entrance.

A red goblin warrior stood there, watching us with an expression that suggested he would rather be doing anything else. It was the same goblin that had first spoken to us.

"Ravok," Zarvessa called.

The warrior straightened.

"Yes, Chief?"

"Leave us."

Ravok’s gaze shifted towards me. His eyes lingered on my Doom Axe, and his mouth tightened.

"Are you sure that’s wise? We know almost nothing about him."

"That’s why I want to speak with him."

"But, Chief, allowing a stranger to wander around our settlement is already a risk. Leaving you alone with him..."

Zarvessa’s smile disappeared.

"Do you believe I need your permission to decide who I speak with?"

"No, Chief."

"Good. Go."

Ravok bowed his head and left, though the disapproval on his face hadn’t changed.

I watched him disappear around the corner.

"Popular fellow," I remarked.

"He worries too much."

"That sounds like something people say about someone who worries the correct amount."

Zarvessa gave me a look.

"Are you always this irritating?"

"Only when I’m awake."

She laughed again, and the sound was so smooth that I found myself smiling before I could stop it. That was the first warning sign.

The second came when she took a step towards me.

"Tell me something, Sylas. How close were you to Talia’s clan?"

I considered the question.

"Not very close. I was practically a prisoner when I first met them."

Her expression changed slightly.

"A prisoner?"

"More or less. I didn’t exactly arrive as an honoured guest. There were misunderstandings, disagreements, and a few unpleasant encounters. The usual things that happen when people meet under terrible circumstances."

"And yet you’ve chosen to stay with them."

"I’ve chosen to travel with them. There’s a difference."

"Is there?"

"A rather important one."

She tilted her head, studying me.

"You speak as though you have no loyalty to them."

"I didn’t say that. I simply don’t believe loyalty requires me to pretend everything they do is right."

Her crimson eyes narrowed with interest.

"And what do you think of the way they live?"

I leaned against the edge of the stone basin.

"I think they’ve made a lot of mistakes. They were weak, poorly equipped, and unprepared for the dangers surrounding them. Their chief did what he could, but good intentions aren’t enough to keep people alive. If you lead others, you have to make decisions that give them a chance to survive."

Zarvessa listened without interrupting.

"From what I’ve seen, goblins spend too much time fighting among themselves," I continued. "Everyone is worried about their own position, their own territory, and their own grudges. Meanwhile, the world keeps moving, and stronger creatures are perfectly happy to take advantage of that."

I shrugged.

"It’s a terrible strategy for a race that’s already struggling to survive."

"And you believe you can change it?"

"I believe it can be changed."

"That’s not what I asked."

I looked at her.

"No. I don’t know if I can change it. I’m not a prophet, and I don’t have some magical instruction manual explaining how to save an entire race. I’m a realist. Or rather, I’m choosing to be one now. I look at what’s in front of me, figure out what can be done, and try to do it."

She was quiet for a moment.

"You’re remarkably honest for someone who calls himself the Brain Eater."

"Thank you. I try to balance my more questionable qualities with a few respectable ones."

Zarvessa’s lips curved, but she didn’t laugh this time.

Instead, she began walking towards me.

It was a slow, unhurried movement.

Her boots made almost no sound against the stone, and the red fabric beneath her dark armour shifted gently with each step.

She held my gaze as she approached, her expression carrying a confidence that made it seem as though she knew exactly how much space she occupied in another person’s thoughts.

I straightened without meaning to.

She noticed. Of course she noticed.

"You’re different from the others," she said.

"I’ve heard that one before."

"You don’t seem interested in being worshipped. You don’t pretend to have all the answers, and you don’t look at me as though you expect me to bow simply because you possess an impressive weapon."

I glanced at the Doom Axe resting against my shoulder.

"Should I have brought a bigger one?"

Her eyes flickered with amusement.

"No. I think this one suits you."

She stopped close enough that I could see the faint variations in the red of her irises.

There were darker rings around her pupils, giving her gaze an unusual depth.

Her hair fell...