Ashorra was 7 years old when he saw a ghost for the first time. Or, well, he thought it was a ghost. The black shadow followed his grandfather like a lion ready to pounce on its prey.

No, he hoped it was a ghost. Though he came from a family of elephants, the creature crawling behind grandfather now was just as large and even scarier. If it wasn’t a ghost, then—

“Murderer! Grandfather! Watch out!” he yelled.

Gupra turned around rapidly, his royal robes swirling around him. Then he sighed—deeply. His guards gave Ashorra a frustrated stare.

“Nothing there,” he mumbled. “As always. Can somebody please distract young Ashorra until I’m back from the mission?”

There was something there! Why did nobody else see? Ashorra kept pointing and forgot to blink. The ghost was coming straight for grandfather, attracted as if magnetic.

Nobody will listen to you. They don’t trust you—and rightly so.

The voice in his head never slept. So he learned to fight it. He collected courage to stop the mysterious murderer himself. They’d already taken away his dagger after attacking one of the princesses at the age of six. So bare-pawed it was!

It never came to that, for a guard lifted him with his trunk and took him to the war room. A place the ghost didn’t dare enter for now.

“That’s the final province,” Gupra said with a smile. A golden ring around his front paw tapped an area on the map. “We conquer this and Schola stands united.”

“Except for … the Tamli,” the commander added hesitantly.

Gupra’s face darkened. “And then there’s the Tamli.”

Ashorra stopped struggling. After staying still for long enough, he was placed back on his own feet, after which he immediately ran to the large map on the stone table. Almost all areas in Schola now carried the flag of his family: the Gupramils.

Except the three areas of the Tamli, who unfortunately held nearly a quarter of Schola.

“Why do you look funny when you say the word Tamli?” Ashorra asked innocently. “You always say they’re just the next place to conquer, right?”

Gupra smiled at him. “Well, if you’re looking for ghosts, my dear Ash, then you should see the Tamli.”

“We can’t catch them,” the commander said, a large tiger. “Whatever we try.”

“Those three areas are led by rich, rich traders,” Gupra said. “If we cut off their food supply, they just buy more. If we destroy their weapons, they just buy more.”

“Why don’t we leave them alone?”

“Because they didn’t leave us alone! Not too long ago, a peaceful and beautiful civilization lived here, right around the Indus. Schola was united. Then all those other folk attacked, pillaged, conquered, and destroyed what we had.”

“We must take revenge and restore balance,” the tiger said with disdain. “Any other act would be admitting terrible weakness. Reasonable minds know this.”

The ghost had returned.

Ashorra squeaked again and pointed at the black beast in the doorway. Terrifying. Only eyes for Gupra, but in every other way almost the exact opposite of his grandfather. He was sweet and smiled often; the ghost was grumpy and angry.

“Ghost! Coming to kill you! They—”

They didn’t even look over their shoulder anymore.

You’re crazy. They should’ve exiled you long ago.

Oh, he heard them. Crazy Ash. Seeing ghosts. Ash attacks cows without reason and cannot be trusted with a dagger. But he saw a—oh, it had become multiple ghosts. They entered in droves, almost eager to do their crime, each picking a different individual in the room.

The commander shook his head. “This can’t continue. I know how much you believe in your grandson, Gupra, but you have to cut your losses given … what he’s become.”

Ashorra’s shoulders drooped. What he’d become. He had to prove himself. But how could he, if the world looked different to him than to all the others?

A horn blared through the palace. The signal to leave and capture the final remaining non-Tamli area.

“Oh! Crush them, Gupra! Annihilate them!” Ashorra yelled in an attempt to sound encouraging.

Gupra rooted his bouncing grandson to the spot with his trunk. “Did you never listen? We are not crushing anyone. If I could, Schola would be united without violence. As usual, our plan is to leave everyone—”

“Are you sure it is wise to tell secret plans to your insane grandson?” the tiger commander interrupted.

Gupra easily pushed him aside with his tusks. “Call my grandson insane once more, Mero, and you will—”

The horn blared again. They had to hurry.

“You must learn this,” Gupra said to Ashorra. “The plan isn’t to reduce all villages to ash until we rule the Country of Nothing Left. We go straight to their capital and force the leader to surrender. One step closer to a united Schola. And we need that, if we want to remain strong and peaceful in the remainder of the First Conflict.”

Gupra stormed out of the room. The ghosts were eager to follow him, but apparently not eager to attack yet. By now, every creature, important or not, had one such shadow stuck on their tail.

Mero pushed the “insane grandson” in the paws of another guard, a buffalo.

“Solve … solve this,” his only command sounded, before the tiger ran away to lead his army.

They would have loved to fill their entire army with tigers, but that’s not how those creatures worked. They struggled with hierarchy, having any other being above or below them, so no tiger wanted to be the soldier for a tiger commander. And so the army mostly consisted of buffalos, rhinos, goats, and some lions that the gods could spare.

Ashorra was already too large and unwieldy to be carried by a buffalo. Instead, his paws were bound together and a blindfold fell over his head.

The buffalo pulled him along with a rope.

“What are you doing? Is this a game? Are you going to hide and I have to—”

“Shut your mouth, devil.”

“That’s not my name. Do you know what Gupra was talking about? Why is he not annihilating others? He’s strong enough.”

The buffalo turned a corner. Ashorra’s behind felt a rough path and his face felt a fresh wind from outside.

“You’re too young.”

“I’m already seven!”

“Too young to know how it was before Gupra came. Schola was cut into tens of provinces with small groups. Apparently that civilization around the Indus worked like that, with tiny regions only governing themselves, without leader. But then they mixed with Sumiser, and the Akradi, and they instantly started waging war.”

Ashorra felt disoriented as the ground rotated; they were climbing a steep slope. The buffalo groaned from the effort of pulling an entire young elephant with him.

Silence reigned for a while. For hours and hours they walked, taking only short breaks, until even blindfolded Ashorra knew it had to be midnight by now.

Far below him, waves crashed into the stone beach with loud splashes. Until the buffalo let go of the rope to take a break, giving Ashorra enough freedom to grab his blindfold.

“Each day,” his guard spoke, “thousands were killed by their neighbors. Until Gupra came. He won the wars and conquered all areas to unite them. For if everyone was part of the same group and culture, they’d stop fighting.”

“That’s silly,” Ashorra instantly said. “They say Sumiser had wars between cities. You get peace by killing everyone who is against you, and that’s that, silly guard.”

The buffalo pushed Ashorra forward with a headbutt. “And that … is why I must do this to you.”

Ashorra ripped off his blindfold.

He lay at the edge of a cliff.

Only the buffalo’s feet kept him away from a deadly fall down.

He saw ghosts again. No, one ghost. She loomed behind the buffalo, twice as large, with devilish eyes.

“I am sorry,” the buffalo spoke. “But Schola has to stay united in the future, and that has to be without you as successor.”

His paws moved. Ashorra rolled over the edge.

The ghost acted quickly. She pushed a sharp knife through the buffalo, who gasped for breath and fell forward.

Now all three of them fell down.

The buffalo hit the water below with a sickening splash. Ashorra had the infinite luck that his rope was stuck behind a stone, holding him in the air.

In the distance, he saw Gupra’s army returning to the palace with haste.

The ghost had vanished, as if satisfied after doing her duty.

Ah. So that was how they’d defeat the Tamli kings.

A ghost story for one, dear reader, could turn into a ghost story for all.

Gupra made an entire show of it. Ashorra found it dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Alixader the Giant had burned down half of Preza and pushed back the fearsome Pricecats. The only one to be able to stand up against those cats, helped by godly magic. If Ashorra heard that this creature came to Schola, well, he’d raise his walls and prepare his army!

But Gupra turned it into a festive day. He received the giant commander with a smile and gifts.

Your grandfather has grown soft and weak. It will kill him today.

The entire city had joined in the festivities. Young and old cheered for their leader, but not before they’d taken their share of the free banquet. Gupra had depleted part of his royal treasure to spoil his subjects so much.

Subjects, yes. Grandfather was tempted to forget.

The nickname Giant was not misplaced. Alixader was an entirely new species, with the tusks of firegod Ardex, horns like a buffalo, but the flexible body of a Gosti who could stand on two legs if they wanted. And when he did, he was twice as tall as his own gigantic grandfather.

But he didn’t come alone. Ardex himself trudged after him as if he were Alixader’s servant, instead of the eldest and most powerful godchild. His Firering jangled on his left front paw, his Flamefeaster on his right.

They stepped into the palace and negotiations started instantly. The gods must be busy now, fighting the First Conflict.

“We want to search Schola,” Alixader said, “and passage to the south. Who knows what enemies hide there.”

“I can assure you,” Gupra said with a wide smile, “that no enemies hide here.”

His trunk grabbed a bunch of grapes and offered it to his guests.

“That is reassuring,” Alixader said, rejecting the offer. “But I don’t work on promises.”

Gupra’s trunk stiffened, but he kept his smile. “I united Schola to ensure peace. We’re on the side of the gods, but don’t want to be dragged into some war.”

“United with the exception of the Tamli,” Ardex said.

“And those are most interesting,” Alixader said. “They control the coasts; the only way to arrive her by sea. They control the best land and have enough money to keep buying Pricecat soldiers forever.”

Gupra stayed silent. Ashorra looked up, past his colorful robes, with hopeful eyes.

“My plan,” he whispered. “Tell them my plan!”

His grandfather instead pushed an apple into his mouth and stomped away.

“Let my entire army walk through Schola,” Alixader continued, “and we’ll destroy those Tamli for you, no problem. Half their riches go to the Gupramils, half to us. I promise that.”

“Funnily enough,” Gupra said, “I don’t work on promises.”

Ardex spit out a fireball. “All this talking! Bah! It’s us. The gods. If we wanted to conquer Schola, we’d have done it yesterday in an hour.”

Ashorra stood up. “No, we don’t need your hulp, because I have a winning plan!”

“Ash, go to your room—”

“I see ghosts,” he said. “Ghosts everywhere. Look, one floats behind Alixader, a tiny cute mouse that doesn’t dare come closer. I … I think I control them. They protect me, or the Gupramils.”

Alixader frowned and leaned forward. Ardex stood stunned, his tongue lolling out.

“If I can get close to the Tamli, and then get in danger, the ghosts will kill them for me! I am sure!”

“And why are you sure, little boy?” Alixader pressed, increasingly impatient.

Little? He was almost nine years old!

“A soldier once came to kill me. But just before he did, a ghost like that came and killed him instead.”

Gupra smashed his wine glass against the stone table. “Ashorra, why do you always do this?”

“Why do I do what?” He looked at Ardex, still stunned. “It is true! You know it’s true! Or is that buffalo—”

“I shot down that buffalo guard with my bow and arrow.”

Sure. Don’t believe him. He just wants to make you look even more insane.

His grandfather pushed him from the room. “You could become a great leader,” he whispered, “but mention ghosts or spirits one more time …”

“Wait,” Ardex said, who blocked their path after one giant leap. “I have reason to believe in this plan. What would it hurt to take little Ashorra with us on the next Tamli attack?”

“What kind of—” Gupra looked at Alixader, who grinned and emptied his wine glass. “A boy—practically a baby elephant—on the battle field?”

“He’d be under my protection.”

Odd. Ardex was the only one without a ghost following him around. Did he keep them away with his godly powers? Could gods not be attacked or killed, despite what the Pricecats kept telling everyone?

“Good! Then it’s decided,” Alixader the Giant said. As he stood up, he bumped his head into the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Nothing has been decided!”

“We already have an infallible plan to defeat the first Tamli king. We’ll take Ashorra, we’ll gain your trust. All will be well, little elephant.”

Alixader gave Gupra a pat on the shoulder that was strong enough to push the king through the room.

Alixader’s army studied the skies. What on Somnia was that?

They stood on the border to the first Tamli king, their palace a blur on the horizon. Gupra had once tried a surprise attack to kill the king, before anyone could even sound the alarm. Strangely enough, the alarm sounded immediately as soon as he placed one foot across the border.

Gupra called it dark magic, dear reader. But it was simply a guard patrol that accidentally walked the wrong route that night, and then a defect in the alarm bell that made it go off randomly. He almost started to believe in Ashorra’s ghosts.

Alixader had a different strategy. His enormous army stampeded over the border and destroyed everything in their path, until nothing remained but a straight path to the palace.

But more and more soldiers stopped walking to study the stars. Stars that were increasingly less bright and visible, because—

“Snow?” Alixader’s voice was twice the usual pitch. “Snow?”

Ashorra had never seen it in his lifetime, that’s how rare it was in this warm country.

The palace quickly became invisible, the floor a white sheet. Soldiers froze to their spot or got lost—invisible to their battalion, despite being only a tree’s length apart.

He stuck out his tongue to catch snowflakes. Someone crashed into the snow next to him and giggled. A girl elephant. He subtly looked aside and noticed she had also stuck out her tongue.

She was beautiful! Her laugh made him laugh even harder. Her trunk shortly touched his in an attempt to grab as many snowflakes as possible. Something fluttered deep inside his belly and he shuffled closer to her for warmth.

Until he saw the ghost behind her. So the Tamli had them too! Her ghost was a man who studied them from some distance, arms crossed.

“Well, as they say,” she said smiling. “Nobody conquers the Tamli kings. Enjoy your snow storm, Ashorra the Insane.”

He was too much in love, dear reader, to hear the nickname or realize she was the enemy. Isn’t that wonderful? Yes, the answer is yes. He let her go, stunned and starstruck.

She hopped away from him, taking a confident straight line to a cloud of blurry lights. That had to be the palace direction. Then—

Alixader stood in the center like a pillar surrounded by ants. He yelled commands, but they blew away in the wind. Weapons were thrown down to stick ice-cold paws at warmer places.

A bright glow erupted across the field. Ardex sent clouds of fire to provide light and melt the snow. He seemed scared to touch even one snowflake. The Firering glowed more brightly; the ring of fire around him expanded.

It expanded as far as the Tamli girl. She yelled as the tip of her tail burned. She extinguished it in the snow and ran away.

Two buildings, initially hidden by the snow, had also caught fire.

Ardex noticed it and gave up.

Coward god. Weak god. Doesn’t even want to burn a few houses to gain victory! Doesn’t even want to burn—a very sweet girl.

No. Stop it. She’s the enemy, she is a foul Tamli, Gupra told him all about the things they did to them a hundred years ago, she … she must be a witch that can summon snow storms!

Alixader sighed. He had no other choice than pull back with whatever soldiers remained.

The three Tamli kings hated each other from the bottom of their hearts. The Gupramils were simply unlucky enough to be hated a tiny bit more.

“No wapens,” the porter said when the third king finally arrived. “That includes your sharp rings.”

He grumbled and threw almost all his possessions, including armor, on a pile. Then Candya, a rhinoceros, pushed aside the tent flap and almost stepped into the fire inside.

“Sitting comfortably, Are? On your stolen riches?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Are said. He grinned. “On another note, I would recommend guarding your storage house on the border.”

“Ugh. Just keep your snow storms where they are.”

“I really have no clue what happened there,” he admitted.

All three kings where rhinos that had eaten just too much. Their horns, thick and sharp, gleamed. But their bodies had otherwise not seen any fight or activity in a long time. Their gold could buy any number of soldiers to do the work for them.

Beeris rolled his eyes. A thick, deep scar ran around those eyes and touched most of his face—but through sheer luck, his eyes and ears had been unharmed. Similarly, a part of his tail was burned, but it didn’t impede him, and actually looked more fearsome than painful.

“Stop your noises and listen,” Beeris said. “My tent, my rules.”

He circled around the other two Tamli kings. Piles of gold were scattered across the tent haphazardly, as if it was garbage that got in their way. They weren’t scared of theft; they were scared the other kings thought they were poor and didn’t flaunt their riches enough.

“Our spy among the Gupramils came back with … difficult information.”

“Difficult information? What does that mean?” Area tried to balance a gold coin on the tip of his horn. Candya tried the same, but with a bigger coin.

Beeris swatted both away. “The Gupramils lead a prosperous kingdom. The animals are satisfied and free. The gods are behind them. They impressed Ardex enough to have him tame Alixader the Giant and forbid him from walking his armies through Schola.”

“Ardex? Who stops a fight?” Are said. “Are we sure it’s the real firegod? Not a doll? The last time he entered my terrain entire houses burned!”

Candya threw some coins in the fire to see which one melted the fastest. “So?”

“Look at you,” Beeris said. “We’re toddlers with too much money. Our traders are rich beyond belief, but not all can trade or earn money. Look outside. Are we a prosperous empire?”

The other two kings frowned and peaked through the open tent flap.

“Well, sure, those elephants there could use a bit more food,” Are said.

“That child looks angry and sad. But she just hit her knee on something, didn’t she?” Candya added.

Are nodded. “Yes, sure, obviously, all those twenty children crying over there have just hit their knee on some—”

Beeris kicked over a pile of coins and yelled. “Our only value is money! But our subjects starve. They talk about … joining the enemy. And if our spy tells the truth, I can understand.”

“But with money you can buy food,” Are said.

“Yes, well, but,” Candya uttered, “we get that money by selling our food to trading ships.”

“And where do those traders go?” Beeris asked. “To the Gupramils. Every time we sell something to a ship, we get richer, and our enemies get to actually eat.”

He kicked over another pile. They splashed in all directions, even outside of the tent, which prompted multiple creatures to quickly steal some. “We waste time playing games with each other, while they work for a united Schola.”

Are and Candya studied each other with shaking horns. “You … you’re talking about giving up? Cooperating with those devils that attacked us time and time again in the past? Never!”

“No,” Beeris said. “But there must be a way to keep our freedom and be better than the Gupramils. Nobody conquers the Tamli kings.”

The tent opening widened. A messenger stepped inside. The elephant saw red from exhaustion and was fully armored, as if he could be called at any time to play soldier.

He was also nervous and shy. His head stayed low, his eyes almost closed, as he spoke.

“I have—I have a message. Important message. Must find Tamli kings quickly.”

Are, Beeris and Candya took turns studying each other’s eyes. They hung to the messenger’s trunk—metaphorically—and stopped playing with coins.

“And … if you were to find those Tamli kings … what would you say?” Beeris said.

“Can’t. Very sensitive message.” His voice wavered, his trunk swinging. “Have to tell personally. You know where they are?”

“We’re their best friends,” said Are, unable to hide his smile anymore. “Just tell us. We’ll pass it on to … those Tamli kings who are not here. No, yes, they are very far away.”

“I … well … no …”

The messenger struggled with himself, sweating underneath his armor.

The kings burst into laughter.

The messenger froze and finally looked up. His trunk rested on the hilt of his sword, as if expecting a trap.

“Oh I have to get you as as the new joker at my palace,” Candya said enthusiastically. He nudged the elephant in a friendly way. “Hilarious!”

“No, I want him!” Are said, who grabbed the front paw of this supposed joker. “I offer a 1000 coins more than him!”

The messenger turned red, insulted. He grabbed his sword.

Suddenly, the tent surroundings fell dead silent. No footsteps, just whispering. Until the messenger was pushed aside by a female elephant who entered as if she hadn’t seen him.

“Marili,” Beeris said kindly. “You grow more beautiful each day. Rich traders will soon ask for your hand and—”

“I will push them into the river,” she said with a smile. “No, sorry, that’s mean. I know. I just don’t …”

She looked at the messenger in the corner. “Who is that?”

“The new joker at my palace,” Are said.

“No, mine!”

Marili frowned. “Why is he allowed to keep his weapons?”

“Guaaards?” Beeris yelled to the outside. “Why did you not—”

“There were no guards,” Marili said softly.

The messenger pulled his sword and leapt towards the kings, screaming. Marili stepped aside, but part of her trunk was hit. She yelled in pain, turned around, and tried to headbutt the messenger.

The elephant grabbed the tent in support, but the thin fabric split at his touch. When Beeris threw his full weight into the fight, the entire tent collapsed, extinguishing the fire.

The messenger kept swinging his word. Marili saw the flashing metal too late—but Are saved her with his horn.

With the joint power of three horns, they clamped the sword and pulled it from his trunk grip. Marili pushed through the pain of her wounded trunk and locked the messenger in place.

“Who are you? Who sent you?” she yelled.

“It’s obvious,” Beeris said. “The Gupramils. Their next assassination attempt.”

“You will lose! Gupra will conquer the Tamli kings!” he yelled. He spit in their faces. Are and Candya exchanged glances and the same thought: there goes our joker.

They were lucky again, dear reader. Silly luck. Suspicious luck. Candya and Are shrugged at the realization, probably expecting the luck to never run out. Beeris knew better, but could never say so.

Beeris grinned. “We suggest sending an assassin who actually recognizes the Tamli kings when he meets them.”

The messenger roared and made a final attempt at escape. Marili headbutted him again—instantly unconscious.

Then she had to sit down and study her face in a mirror. Crying, she refused Beeris’ help and ran away.

The Second King—as Gupra called them—stood before the First and the Third.

“No, we will never cooperate with those who wronged us so,” Beeris said. “They must be defeated. But I refuse to fight my own family.”

“Will you ever tell us which of them is your family?” Are asked, truly curious.

Beeris ignored it. “But there are, indeed, many other ways to hurt and control people if you own endless gold.”

As the years continued, Gupra’s skin discolored, more gray and more bleak. He had an endless dilemma: he had to keep Ashorra close to prevent anyone else from trying to “solve” this problem, but the boy was insane and never useful.

They’d made a plan. Tiger Mero already walked away to command the army. But no, Ashorra wanted to speak up.

“I still think we must attack the other king,” he said, now a strong elephant at fifteen years old.

“The First King, Are, is closer, just like his palace,” Gupra repeated annoyedly. “Why do I need to explain this again?”

“Oh, yes, but, yes, I know. But my, eh, gut feeling tells me to first conquer the others.”

“Your gut feeling?” Gupra exploded. Angrier than he’d ever seen grandfather. He shrank underneath his devastating gaze. “Disappear! Don’t meddle with business you’re too dumb to understand!”

You are not too dumb, you are much smarter than all of them. They are just too weak. You should never be weak, if you want to live.

The inner voice was truly a part of him now, just like the ghosts. And no matter how hard he tried, ignoring any of them seemed impossible.

The meeting with the Tamli girl had never left his memories. Oh how he longed to be there, instead of locked inside this palace with a grandfather who slowly grew more insane than he was.

Maybe that’s what Gupra meant with “a bad leader defeats himself”. As soon as your subjects would rather have the enemy lead than you, your end was near. Even his ghost, now always nipping at his heels, seemed more friendly.

He walked to the balcony. The city didn’t shine anymore like it used to. Streets were dirty, food spoiled, the animals thin and sickly. Large parts of Alixader’s army stayed just outside the city. Mission after mission failed, and all that time Gupra had to feed two armies at once. So many animals. So many ghosts.

It drove Ashorra insane. Sometimes he wanted to blindfold himself, just to never see those monstrous shadows again.

Alixader entered the room and bumped into the chandelier, as always.

“Ready for departure. And please don’t flee this time at the slightest sign of trouble.”

“Slightest sign? The Tamli had hired hundreds of Pricecats! If we’d kept fighting, our entire army would be dead now!”

Alixader’s mouth became a line. His tusks scraped across the stone table, creating an ear-piercing scratchy sound. “Any soldier of yours that flees or disobeys, is shot down by me.”

“Are you serious?”

“We’re stuck in an endless cycle of wars and violence. This can’t go on. We either win today … or it’s the end of Schola.”

“Insanity!”

“Look at your city, Gupra.” They both joined Ashorra on the balcony. Though they desperately pretended he wasn’t there, and his eyes didn’t flit between the ghosts of several birds. “Maybe it’s not even worth saving that.”

“The Tamli choke us!” Gupra yelled. Ashorra could almost see through his bleak, worn-down skin. “They stopped all trade. Taken all the fertile land. Our best workers migrated to them with pockets full of money.”

“So why disagree that we must win this battle?”

Gupra studied his city. The grey mass of sickness and poverty. Ashorra saw how easily it could become like the old days; Gupra only saw how much better it was in the old days. He cried for his subjects.

“Why,” Ashorra said tentatively, “do you work against Alixader? He has enough soldiers to crush the Tamli.”

“Alixader lusts for power. The gods gave him too much, and they know it, for Ardex follows him everywhere. They don’t want to make the mistake with the Ancient Turtles again. But if the opportunity would present itself, Alixader would conquer the entire world, I am certain.”

Gupra turned to his grandson. “Each being, good or strong they may be, needs somebody who says no.”

“Where do you get all that wisdom?” Ashorra asked. “Nobody in all of Somnia is like … like you.”

Nobody in Somnia is like that girl you met. You want to be with her, or you’d rather not live at all. It’s the truth and you feel it.

“It is the way of Buha.”

Buha? Wasn’t that a figure that some animals started to view as a god and leader, instead of grandfather? Animals believed the strangest things.

He believed in what was truly worth it. Prove that he was strong and skilled, prove to Schola that he was not insane, and be the first to conquer Tamli. Schola were his people and he’d protect them against the others.

He wanted to ask about Buha, but Mero came back to fetch the king. Gupra still insisted on leading the army himself and fighting at the vanguard.

This time, however, he waved away Mero’s pleas.

“I’m not coming today. I have other plans. Ashorra leads the mission. As, erm, decided long ago.”

“Excuse me?”

Ashorra the Insane found himself at the vanguard of his army. Gupra’s insistence that this was all part of the plan, and the soldiers should listen, was the only thing lending him some authority.

They stood near Capery. Near the cliff where his life almost ended years ago.

Alixader had performed operations in this area, almost surgically. Once in a while he’d destroyed one important place or city, only to walk away touching nothing else. Each time Alixader took a few important nobles or traders hostage.

Each pinprick irritated the Tamli, until he’d succeeded at drawing them out of their homes.

Ashorra could see them coming from the hilltop. An army of assembled soldiers, bought from neighboring countries. But as opposed to years ago, the Tamli kings now came with them to fight. Gupra had foreseen this and said it helped motivate the soldiers.

Candya was easiest to see, his horn painted in bright colors and long thorny rings on his claws. The army behind him was disorganized and distracted.

Are stayed more hidden, but was actually prepared for a fight. His army was larger and trained to walk in neat formations.

Ardex suddenly appeared next to Ashorra. He wished the God of Fire had been around more, but he was always called back to help his siblings on Origina.

“You still see them, don’t you?” he asked. “The ghosts?”

“Everywhere. Sometimes they’re far away, sometimes they stick to a creature. You have none.”

Ardex huffed. “One of the few advantages of being a god. Ignore the ghosts, son. Leave them to me.”

“You … you see them too?”

“Every second of every day.”

Ashorra tried to stay calm, breathing slowly. Before his eyes was not one army, but two. The actual soldiers and the shadow creatures following them. This time he noticed that all ghosts, without exception, almost sat on their creature’s shoulders.

He swallowed. A black blur came at him. Their archers already stopped and aimed their bows. Curse the shadows!

“Archers!” Ashorra yelled over his shoulder. “Prepare!”

Fortunately, half of them had already done so without command. What was his grandfather thinking? Pushing this on him?

Ardex pushed his warm far against Ashorra’s raw elephant hide. “Nothing can go wrong.”

The location was picked for being a choke point. If the Tamli wanted to save the hostages, they had to travel through the valley for a while. A thin corridor between stones, with tall walls on both sides.

One one side stood the Gupramil army; on the other stood Alixader’s men.

As the Tamli streamed into the corridor, both sides let loose bows and catapults. A rain of stones, arrows, debris, anything threatened the Tamli from above. Soldier after soldier was flattened. Ghost after ghost vanished like smoke.

Ardex set wood and cloth on fire, after which others threw the burning objects down. That was the the most Ardex wanted to influence the battle.

“Full power!” Alixader yelled. Both armies listened to his command. Multiple battalions ran to the entrance to block any chance of exit for the Tamli. Fighting to keep the blockade, many of them were drawn into the stone corridor as well. Some trained soldiers, mostly goats, ran over the steep rock wall to kick down any strong Tamli climbers.

“No! Stay back!” Ashorra yelled. “Where’s the third king? There were three, right?”

He counted again. Are. Candya. Beeris was nowhere to be found.

Ashorra had more than enough cannonballs and arrows left. But Alixader had rushed through all supplies and stopped his attack from above.

The Tamli army was cut in half in one blow. Now Alixader ran into the corridor to finish the job.

“I said no! Stop! Stay here!”

Nobody listened. Only one battalion stayed with him: the personal guard Gupra had appointed to keep his insane grandson in check.

There he was. The third king. The sky opened up, letting in sunlight, and a gust of wind helped speed up his approach. Beeris ran to the battle field with his own army, the largest of all.

And Gupra traveled in their midst, chained but still able to walk slowly.

Mero climbed the walls in a panic, even though tigers couldn’t do that. The other soldiers noticed too. Some immediately surrendered and hid, others fought with even more fervor.

Now his armies were choked from the left and the right by the Tamli. The choke point of Gupra had miraculously turned into the choke point of Tamli.

Alixader was right. Schola would fall today.

Creatures disappeared in tandem with their ghosts, like a last embrace. Ashorra was the only one left on top of the hill, eyes cast down to survey the confusing battle field.

“Load the catapults,” he said out of breath. “Archers! All arrows down! Use everything we have!”

Beeris had a cooler head than Alixader. He slowed down before leaping into the corridor.

“Surrender!” the rhino yelled. “Schola is ours. Gupra has surrendered already. Any who fight will simply die; there is no way out.”

Their soldiers threw down weapons. Mero bowed his head and shuffled forward, probably to indicate their official surrender.

“No, you may surrender!” Ashorra triumphantly yelled from high on the hill.

All looked up and squinted against the bright sunlight. Nobody could move anywhere, the Tamli and Gupramils weaved as if they fought for the same commander.

Rows of catapults and arrows were ready to destroy everything. He only had to give the signal with his trunk, and everything down there died. Even their ghosts looked up at him with pleading eyes.

And then he saw her.

The face he’d never forget. The most beautiful elephant girl who had only grown prettier and more enchanting.

She recognized him too and tried to smile sweetly. That was hard when archers were one slip of the finger away from a shot in your face. But she managed to look lovely all the same.

“I … I will allow everyone to leave alive,” Ashorra spoke with wavering voice. “If that elephant there becomes my wife.”

A shock ran through the army. Candya burst into loud, shaking laughter, nudging Are until he laughed with him. Beeris looked unfazed, as if he saw this coming. Gupra sank through his knees in misery.

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, I accept!” she quickly yelled upwards.

Gupra didn’t even do Ashorra the honor of telling it himself. The moment he and Marili returned to the capital, side by side, tiger Mero led them to a different place.

He was madly in love and just followed Mero blindly, dear reader. Marili smiled and gave him kisses. But he couldn’t read if Marili truly felt the same for him; a recurring issue that he never gave the attention it deserved.

Thousands of elephants stood ready to depart, under the command of Alixader the Giant. Most still had a ghost, but it was far away. Still he heard a thousand voices screaming in his head. He shut his eyes and waited until silence returned.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked Alixader.

The giant spit on the ground and marched on. “Gupra gave us five thousand elephants on the condition that we get out of Schola and never return. You are part of the gift too.”

His nickname had rapidly changed to Ashorra the Insanely in Love. He had changed from a boy with a sickness in his head to the cute center of jokes.

“Excuse me? Did everyone forget I am the prince and Gupra’s successor?”

“Calm down, sweety,” Marili said. “Didn’t you just say you never liked the palace anyway?”

She was right. This was his chance to get away. Live somewhere else with the girl of his dreams—which she was, now, officially. They could fight together in a place where the king actually wanted to fight, instead of hide like his weak and cowardly grandfather.

How many Gupramils had died? How many subjects had died of hunger due to the Tamli actions?

They turned around and walked with Alixander’s army back to Preza. They hoped to climb the Himamountains and also ask Kina to join the First Conflict—on the side of the gods, of course. If that succeeded, the Pricecats would be completely surrounded, just like the choke point of the last battle.

Still Ashorra didn’t drop the subject for the entire journey.

“I saved everyone!” he repeated endlessly. “Why doesn’t Gupra see that?”

“Not to be unkind, sweety,” Marili then said. “But you also nearly killed everyone.”

She gave him a kiss, twisted her trunk around his, and everything was alright with the world. Until the ghosts drew closer again and the voices in his head multiplied once more.

They traveled from city to city in Schola.

Ashorra realized now they could only do that because his family had united all of this. Gates were open. Animals all spoke the same language. Culture was shared, so there were no misunderstandings or uncertainties. Whereas the Sumiseri wanted to attack and conquer each other’s cities, everyone in Schola understood they were on the same side.

If grandfather could add the Tamli kings, Schola would become the best civilization in the world.

But he’d never succeed, not like this.

“It is obvious, isn’t it?” he repeated. “Gupra secretly went to Beeris. He betrayed the mission and negotiated peace, which is what almost made Schola fall! Only because he’d rather stop any war than win.”

“Is it that obvious?” Marili then asked, seemingly never content with just nodding and agreeing. “Would he bring his own army and grandson in such danger?”

Ashorra sighed and just hoped the voices in his head would stop, so he could think. Saying the thoughts out loud was the only thing that seemed to help.

Sometimes Marili’s ghost came very close. Then he’d suddenly wave his trunk behind her, or smash the air just past her ears. He scared her each time, but he insisted that he was keeping ghosts away. Nobody would hurt her, nobody.

They arrived at the final city. It had been under siege from the Pricecats to the north multiple times. The hunger, the garbage, the dark atmosphere of dead and fear hung over these streets like nowhere else.

Not even the climate had been fortunate since his grandfather assumed power. Many droughts. Thunderstorms and inexplicable snow storms right after.

They were free. They were united. But what was the price of that unity?

The road was long, but they had each other. Now they were at the border, ready to enter Kina and ask for help. Gupra had been smart, that Ashorra could admit. These elephants would be crucial in both crossing the inhospitable mountains and looking intimidating.

Ardex, however, had other plans.

He ran through the elephant hoard as if they weren’t there. Fireballs shot from his paws with each step.

“Ashorra, I bring terrible news.”

“Of course you do. You’re also the God of Bad News, aren’t you?”

Ardex blew a hot flame barely away from Ashorra’s face. “Gupra has retreated into the palace to fast. He refuses to eat until all mouths in his kingdom have eaten. He refuses to drink until everyone has clean drinking water. He only cries and says he failed his country.”

“So? So? So?” Ashorra turned around. “He had no qualms sending me away like a toy that fell out of favor.”

Marili cuddled up to him. “Come on, sweety. We have to go back. If Gupra dies, you instantly become king.”

She wants your throne. Don’t give her an inch. Don’t be weak now.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You already assume he died?” He shook Marili left and right. “I am onto you. You just want the throne for yourself! Yes. Yes, that’s it.”

“Oh drown yourself in dirt,” Marili replied in exasperation. “No, sorry, that was mean. I promise I—”

“I don’t work on promises.”

“Ashorra!” Ardex roared. “Leave Marili out of this. You want to be strong and disprove the rumors about you? Be strong and disprove them.”

“Well if I die, then she would instantly become queen of Schola! I can’t leave Marili out of this!”

Marili tried to give him a kiss. “Sweety. I never, ever, thought about that.”

“Of course. I would say the same. Do you even love me? Or do you just play along? You said yes rather quickly.”

Now her face flushed red and she stepped away. “It’s not like I had a choice, did I? If I’d said no, then everyone would be dead now!”

“Aaaaah!” Ashorra crashed his tusks into the dirt. So many voices. So many opinions. Did Marili love him? He couldn’t trust anything anymore. Gupra … Gupra fasted to death for the country, and he just walked away?

He steeled himself and made a decision.

“We go back. Marili, you’re my princess, you’re at my side. Don’t speak out against me, certainly not once we’re back.”

Awkwardly, they walked back, side by side again.

“We are at each other’s side,” she corrected him softly. “Because we want that and we love each other.”

“Tell yourself what you want,” he mumbled. He ran after Ardex.

The journey back felt even longer.

Ardex often took Marili to the side. He heard the two of them whisper. About how she shouldn’t be mad, because Ardex merely appearing close to you made most creatures angry and frustrated. About how there was a good chance they’d be king and queen of Schola soon. And that was a little easier if you still talked to each other.

So when they reached the gates of the capital, lit by torches and moonlight, they looked each other in the eyes. They cuddled up against each other for warmth, while Ashorra—without thinking—stroke her cheeks with his trunk.

“No,” Marili whispered. “I didn’t love you when I became your wife. I didn’t know you! Ashorra the Insane, they said. But you’re not insane. If you allow it, you’re the sweetest elephant I know. An elephant I could be with.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, butterflies returned to his stomach. “I see ghosts everywhere. Voices in my head, always. And then the Tamli seem to have the favor of the gods, all the luck in the world, and drive my grandfather into death …”

Marili clenched her jaws. She wanted to defend her Tamli, who did nothing but take revenge for earlier attacks by Gupramils, but let it go this time.

The three of them were noticed. The gates opened. Commander Mero walked up to them. His ghost was incredibly close, almost floating inside him.

His ghost was happy; Mero had tears in his eyes.

“Gupra has died. Yesterday, from hunger. His own choice, in solidarity with his suffering subjects.”

Ashorra’s world froze for many heartbeats.

“Given your … condition and young age,” Mero said, sounding dull in his ears. “It has been decided that I will succeed the king instead of you.”

He’s a tiger, hungry for power. You’ll be cast aside as a weakling. Kill him.

“Aaaaah!” He stormed at the tiger. Mero was too surprised to defend himself against the tusks in time. Ashorra delivered multiple deep wounds before Mero fought back. But the tiger’s blows were already weakened and uncertain.

“How could this happen!? Why did nobody do something!?”

Ardex pulled them apart. Mero crawled back through the gates.

“That’s freedom too,” Ardex said with overwhelming sadness in his voice. “The freedom to make your own, possibly wrong, choices.”

All inhabitants of the city had gone to the streets. They carried candles and sang as they walked to Gupra’s place of death in the gardens. Once there, they left behind a flower or candle.

Ashorra cried until his breath caught. His grandfather. Dead. Their final moment together a fight. He loved that man. All he had was thanks to him. His protection and belief in him, even after his parent’s early death.

His subjects now turned and looked at him. What were they thinking? That he was emotional too, a crybaby? The voices in his head told him all of it. He forcefully wiped the tears away and toughened up.

With eyes closed, he drifted left and right in front of the gate. His limbs and trunk hit in all directions, caught in a fight with invisible enemies.

“Go away! Be gone, ghosts! Be silent!”

One ghost disappeared.

It was Mero’s ghost.

Bystanders whispered the tiger died of his wounds.

So …. so …

So that’s what the ghosts were. Death. And the closer they came …

Buffaloes and rhinos looked at him, scared and uncertain. Their ghosts were confident women sitting on their shoulders or taunting Ashorra.

“What,” one of them spoke softly. “What now, oh royal highness?”

They didn’t want him as king? They called him insane? All he ever desired was the love and acceptance of his folk. He would do anything to prove he was worthy of it.

But as you probably know, dear reader, people who are willing to do anything are unlikely to listen to somebody who says “no”. They’d sooner share their dreams with ghosts.

Marili stepped from her hiding place surrounded by shadowed shrubs. The Tamli kings looked up with a smile, bags of money around their shoulders.

“How could it be,” Beeris said as he bowed, “your beauty never ceases to amaze me?”

“I have little time. Ashorra will notice I’m gone,” she said.

The other kings also bowed to her. Marili looked sour.

“Why are you acting so stupid?” she sneered. “No, sorry, that’s mean. It’s me. Me. Cute Marili.”

“We are simply preparing our behavior,” Beeris said, “around the woman who will soon be queen of Schola.”

Queen? Soon? Ashorra was healthy and barely an adult. It would take centuries before—

She narrowed her eyes and whispered: “What … are you suggesting?”

Are opened the bag of money to reveal it didn’t contain money at all. He gave her a glass vial containing an odorous liquid. “Oh dear, poison such as this could end someone’s life quickly. It comes straight from the Poison Belt, source of the Poison Explosion. Let us hope it does not accidentally end up in someone’s dinner.”

Marili’s shaking trunk accepted the vial. Did she really want this? It would solve a lot. But—

The kings studied her, confused.

“Is this not what you wanted? Your messages told us Ashorra had gone completely mad. That you were nearly driven mad yourself!” Beeris pushed his head against hers. “Don’t tell me now that it was dramatic speech from a girl with a broken heart.”

Are pressed the poison more firmly into her grasp. “We had a vote, Marili. Gupra’s actions had impressed the Tamli. A leader prepared to fast until his subjects have eaten? We agreed that cooperation with the Gupramils might be the best move anyway.”

“Until your message came,” Beeris said. “We could have worked together with Gupra. Ashorra the Insane has to be removed instantly.”

Removed? Her heart pounced and her voice thundered across the clearing. “This is my husband you’re talking about.”

Yes, Ashorra had become more cruel. Especially without tiger Mero to keep him in check. But she still believed in his sweet heart, one that would make her happy. She didn’t know if it was true or if she was scared of the consequences if she broke her promises now.

The kings stepped backward. “We are sorry. We thought you still cared about your own folk, the Tamli.”

Marili studied the bags that did contain money. She hadn’t seen that much money in all her years with the Gupramils. Gupra had lived off almost nothing; whatever he had was distributed to the inhabitants of the city. She had only lived there for a year, but was already used to a much simpler life—the life of everyone who wasn’t an obscenely rich rhino trader.

“I care about the Tamli! You before them,” she said bitterly. “But why don’t you share your wealth? Why must so many animals in Schola die of hunger, while you literally play with your piles of gold?”

Candya shook with laughter, as his massive body was prone to do. “Crazy Marili. No rich without poor!”

Are supported him, tapping his own money. “You want this? You can have it, no problem. But not more, because then I think Candya is richer than I am, and I would never—”

“Garbage kings!” Marili yelled. She threw the poison vial back. Beeris caught it dangerously between his jaws, incredibly lucky to not break it and die himself.

She turned around. “Give that bag of money to the poor who can’t eat. And the next bag of money. Maybe that will help me believe you are better than the Gupramils.”

“As I feared,” Beeris said with a growl. “Each moment near them makes you more like them, and not one of us.”

She ran away—but they didn’t let her go. Beeris blocked her path forward, the other kings her exits to the side.

She jumped into the bushes. The kings dove after her.

They struggled in the dark. Branches and horns took turns pressing into her sides. Frustrated yells mixed with tired groans, until they were all drown out by a deafening boom.

The fight stopped. They looked to the side, to a pinprick of light that had appeared at the clearing. Somebody had shot a fireball at them, aimed at their precise location from several heartbeats ago, which now set the entire clearing ablaze.

The next assassination attempt directed at the Tamli kings, thwarted by shear luck. Stupid luck. Suspicious luck.

Marili grabbed the poison vial in her trunk and fled.

Ashorra stood with Ardex on the city walls. Since he knew that the ghosts represented someone’s Death, he could recognize them more easily and connect them to the right person. It made him less scared, for these Deaths were not his own. However often he looked over his shoulder, though, he could never see his own shadow.

“When you are born,” Ardex said, “a second creature is always born with you. Your Death or Deathmate. They’re everything you’re not. That’s why men have a female Death, and strong creatures have a weak Death.”

“But why?” Ashorra returned to the palace. He wanted to surprise Marili by coming home early for once and spending the night together. They shared so little time and he wanted to make up for that by giving her many kisses.

“Why? Well, because my parents, the Chiefgods, decided it was so. It’s a law of nature. Like gravity, or light, or—”

“You’re the God of Death, Ardex. You must have an idea?”

Ashorra walked through the streets in full armor, head high and eyes forward. Soldiers saluted him; merchants stepped aside. Finally, respect, as he always desired. Paid for by fear. But he’d be the one to unite Schola and take revenge against the Tamli.

“My parents,” Ardex said, “are also opposites of each other. One can only create, the other only destroy. This is similar. Whenever the universe creates life, it must create an equal amount of death, otherwise there’s no balance. So your Death is always with you. And the closer your Death gets …”

“Can I talk to my Death?”

Ardex shook his head. “I’m surprised you can even see them. You must be a descendant of Asha, who always had such gifts. But no, I don’t think you can talk to your Death, not until you truly understand her.”

They stepped through the palace gates. “Marili! I’m home!”

His voice echoed through empty halls. He trumpeted loud enough to startle Ardex. No response.

“If the Tamli did something to her,” he mumbled. “I’ll crush them. All of them!”

He ran up the stairs to their bedrooms. His guards lazily clung to the door, bored. A good sign or not?

He pushed aside the bedroom doors.

Marili stood in the center of the room with a bright red face. She placed some vial with a liquid on the table and used her tail to close the window.

A burden fell of his broad elephant shoulders.

No, no, don’t show that. You’re king! She’s just a pretty elephant.

“Marili, why did you not respond to me?”

“I’m tried.”

“You’re always tired.”

“Good night, sweety.” She fell onto a large, soft square in the floor that they called an elephant’s bed.

Ashorra was tempted to pull her out of there, but kept his calm. “Tomorrow you stand next to me on the battle field! As the king’s wife ought to do!”

She spoke softly, eyes cast downwards. “Yes, my king.”

“I’m sharpening our plans. The Tamli should feel our revenge in their bones!”

“Revenge will never amount to anything,” Ardex said, flames visible in his eyes.

“We are at war!”

“Wars only exist because stupid animals like you want revenge for everything! Because everyone thinks it is us against them.” Ardex turned away. “Everyone in Schola descends from the same handful of hunter gatherer tribes, like Asha. You are all family. But you … you draw a random line in the dirt and decide to kill each other over it!”

Candles in the room burned brighter in his rage. The shutters burst open with a clang.

Ashorra ran from the bedroom, to the war room, to sharpen those plans. But he secretly returned outside the room to eavesdrop.

Ardex spoke softly with Marili. “If I … if only I had a way to stop animals from thinking it’s us against them.”

“Stop that, sweet Ardex. You can’t solve everything. You already do the right thing by not interfering too much and not abusing your powers.”

“My parents called me the coldest demigod. Sometimes I’m afraid I will only prove them right.”

Oh Ashorra, they have become quite friendly, haven’t they? Ardex is going to steal your wife.

Don’t lie to yourself. If you anger Ardex, he’ll just kill you in your sleep, no effort needed. That god is the biggest threat to your life now.

Ashorra forced the thoughts to disappear. He’d forbid Marili from talking to Ardex ever again, but for now he had a Schola to unite through blood and weapons.

His subjects laughed at Asherro for a while. Lost in thought about Marili, he’d forgotten to take their wooden bridges with them. His entire army started at a wide river for a day without any way to cross it.

At first he pretended this was all part of the plan, and claimed the river was shallow. Once multiple soldiers nearly drowned, he had to turn around and go home.

Even worse, the Tamli kings had entered another part of Schola at the same time. Laughing, giggling and howling they took a few cities without resistance.

You’re a failure. All will remember you as an example of how NOT to do it. Next time you’ll stupidly walk right into an enemy spear by accident.

Asherro stopped leaving the palace. Marili was always gone.

She visited his subjects, went on tours through the city, spoke with everyone and asked what they needed. She told everyone the king was too busy or too sick to come himself.

He heard the whispers of his soldiers; they basically already had a queen, even one “from the enemy”.

But safe in his rooms, he didn’t have to see everyone’s Deathmate. Or hear the voices of the living about how much of a failure he was.

Ardex was often his only companion in planning his war. He desired the God of Death on his side, no matter how much the voice in his head complained.

Even so, his war tactics were repetitive: attack the Tamli, keep attacking, show no mercy.

Yes, yes, that had been grandfather’s mistake. Thinking that one big attack would suddenly mean the Tamli surrendered. Thinking one or two victories would be enough to still the desire for revenge.

“We’re slowly gaining ground in all three territories,” Ardex said. He seemed permanently exhausted by the never-ending First Conflict. “We’re losing soldiers, Asherro. A lot of them.”

“They should stop whining!” He moved a few wooden pawns over the map. Each pawn stood for ten thousand soldiers; Ardex took four pawns away from an area where they lost a battle. “A few deaths? They died for the right cause. I am sure the Tamli are losing more.”

“That … that doesn’t make it better.”

“It does help me sleep better. Otherwise …”

Be the first to attack, otherwise you’re dead already. The Tamli are devils. Conquer them at all costs. Enlist every boy.

“Yes. Yes, you know what? I immediately declare a new law that every body who is almost of adult age is required to join my army.”

Ardex roared. “Did the voices in your head tell you that?”

“Maybe.” Asherro pushed a few more pawns into Beeris’ territory, their strongest fighter and luckiest being so far. “Shutting out the ghosts was supposed to shut out the endless voices. But it didn’t work.”

“Of course not,” Ardex spoke sternly, as if berating his own child. “Those aren’t the voices of the Deaths of others. That voice is your Death!”

His death?

Why would … but … his Death was his opposite in all ways … so the voices would be the opposite of what he truly desired?

“Nice trick, Ardex. Won’t work on me. Even if I was the fool you take me for, I can’t just drop all the missions and completely change my views—that shows weakness and uncertainty like nothing else. A king should never do that. No king in history has ever done it.”

“The history of kings is quite young,” Ardex said. He walked around the map and took away even more pawns. Yes, Asherro’s idea for the new law requiring all boys to become soldiers was really needed. He might even consider accepting girls and children.

“Here on Somnia, everyone has a long lifespan,” the saber-toothed tiger said. “My sister Bella, Goddess of Wisdom, claims this is not natural. Elephants should only live for a paltry 70 years, not 700. You think this longer life is good; I know it’s not.”

“You would have us die sooner? Take away our Longlife? Ardex, you are truly the God of Dea—”

“It doesn’t matter what I desire! Desire has always clashed with the good of the universe!” Ardex loomed over him, casting a shadow over the entire war map. “Because the demigods messed with life so much, Death didn’t exist on Somnia at first! Unless you were wounded or ill, you’d live forever. I had to stop that by inventing magic that would have you die of old age. But for a god who lives forever … it’s hard to find the right number for old age.”

“Living forever?” Ashorra stared into his eyes. “Some Pricecats will tell you that’s a lie …”

“It is true,” Ardex said, nearly unintelligible. “I think me and my siblings can be defeated. And if I’m honest? I’d rather lived only a hundred years and done only good, than suffer all the terrible things that happened now.”

Ardex shuffled from the room. “It never ends, it never ends. I see every animal’s Death. And they might not talk to you—they surely talk to me.”

Ashorra made it a habit to reminisce his grandfather every week. He thought it’d be easier now that he never left the palace. Instead, Ardex’ remarks were needed to remind him he hadn’t done so in half a year.

He stood in grandfather’s old room and looked through his many bookshelves. He always assumed that the books at te front, shiny and colorful, were his favorite. So he’d read those first. But now he knew better.

The books at the back, worn and weathered, were his favorite. Read so often the book was losing pages. Between the covers he recognized a word: Buha. Hadn’t his grandfather told him how much he was inspired by that?

He opened the book and started reading.

The Buha lived a sheltered life, safe in riches and behind the palace walls. His parents pretended everyone in the country had as good a life as he. As if gold coins flowed like water. Food grew on every tree. Until he read about a sloth, a simple young sloth who experienced something special, with the name Prebuha.

Sloth. Don’t they mean goat or something? To his knowledge, all sloths left this area once disasters and fighting made the area uninhabitable to them.

By now he was bent over, immersed by the book.

A door opened and closed. Footsteps at his back. But he relaxed immediately, for he’d recognize these anywhere.

This sloth had been cast out of her group unexpectedly. Suddenly, she had to live outside her safe walls. Was it her death? Her demise? No, it showed the truth. It made her stronger and wiser than before. The story impressed him so, that Buha named himself after her and found the courage to secretly leave the castle. That night, he saw the truth about his country’s condition.

An elephant sat down next to him, radiating warmth. Marili twisted her trunk around his and gave him a kiss.

Poverty was everywhere. Animals desired food, love, riches, power. And all of them were unhappy, whether they got what they desired or not. Buha concluded that life was suffering, and suffering was caused by desire. The only solution, obviously, was to stop desiring and just let the universe guide you wherever it wants.

“This is what the Buhasts believe,” he mumbled. “That Buha is a sort of god with enormous wisdom about how to live and be happy. My grandfather believed this.”

“Most know Buha wasn’t a god,” Marili said, head on his shoulder. “But it helps to share the message.”

“No desire? Just let things happen?” Ashorra closed the book, sending dust particles into their faces. “So you’d just ask the Tamli to walk over us and do as they please?”

“No, because then I would desire something. Let things happen and move with the flow of the river.”

Marili smiled as if she were a little girl again. “I let myself be taken into your world. I didn’t love you at first—now I am happy I can be here and that I saw more of life than the narrow Tamli view.”

“I just don’t get it. How can you not desire something?”

Marili shuffled closer, looking more sweet than ever. “When I received this ugly scar on my trunk, I was sad and angry for months. I stopped living and refused to see anyone or speak. Until I realized … I could not do that? I desired that everyone found me beautiful. Until I stopped desiring that, and I could show my face again and continue living.”

“You … know a lot about this.”

“Most Tamli are Buhast. If you stopped fighting, even if they provoke you, they’d eventually shrug and leave you alone.” Marili lifted the basket she brought with her trunk, which contained fresh fruit and bread. “So let yourself be blown away by this dinner that I brought for us two.”

Something awoke inside him. A fire that understood he was lucky enough to be together with the love of his life. That wanted to hug her, kiss her, tell her how beautiful she was every day.

Hugging will not unite Schola. If you kiss her too much, you might start liking the Tamli. Your grandfather was weak because he refused to desire victory too much; look what happened to him.

Marili displayed all the food on a small cloth. “You’re looking at my scar again,” she said softly. “Do you still find me beautiful?”

The fire of love twisted and swirled inside him. A smile, that was all he permitted himself. “There are many elephants with a pretty face like yours. There is only one with such a unique trunk.”

She gave him a glass vial with water. He was thirsty. He thanked her with a kiss and removed the stopper—then smelled a nasty odour.

“Dear, is this—”

“I wanted to ask something.”

Ashorra sank down. See! She was only being nice because she wanted something!

She doesn’t really love you. So you don’t love her.

“I’ve been at the border, sweety. It is horrible there. All the fighting by your soldiers. So, so many deaths. I beg—”

Ashorra stood up. “You think I will listen to your emotional babbling because you bring me some food?”

“Oh stop being a crybaby!” Marili yelled. “No, sorry, that was mean. I just can’t reach you any other way!”

He exited the room and left Marili behind with the food displayed on the cloth.

“I am tired. Good night.”

Ardex was on his own again. Ashorra refused to leave his bed and he forbade Marili to fight, however good she was at it.

Alixader the Giant wrote many messages about how he was stuck in the mountains. He had never read so many ways to curse snow and storms.

His siblings fought for their lives on Origina. Only Feria was at his side, on Garda, and wanted to meet.

The pink-red fox, Goddess of Animals, joined him in studying the Gupramil army.

“I asked Bella to come,” she said, “but she isn’t feeling well. Eeris and I can’t discover what’s wrong, but her illness seems grave. And Origina has barely made any progress when it comes to health and healing.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Down here, they’re already building advanced cities and buildings. On Origina they’re just discovering what a home is. You’d think … you’d think everything would be better if the entire world could communicate. If the gods could give the newest inventions to everyone.”

“Hmm,” Feria said. “There’s a red panda somewhere who would be very angry if she heard that. Unfortunately, I don’t expect our little sister to show up and heal Bella.”

Ardex’ saber-tooth scraped a stone until it split in two. “I have to come home. I’ve been gone too long.”

“Now?”

“No. After this mission. We’ve thought about everything. The entire army is ready. Those Tamli kings … their luck has to run out at some point.”

“Did … did you hear about the half gods?” Feria asked with a small voice. That was unusual for her; Ardex knew her as proud and certain.

He smiled. “I think we’re a little too old to feel shame for that. You fell in love with animals on Somnia and bore their children. I am happy for you, little sister.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “We have all given a few halfgods to the world … except you.”

“I don’t want to curse a child with the fires burning within me. Bella …”

“Bella what?”

The army awaited Ardex and his commands. He turned his back to give his sister his full attention. “I am the reason Bella has no real magic. If one of you feels ill, I don’t worry too much. But if Bella does …”

Feria made herself tall and addressed the shuffling soldiers. Her singsong voice was still loud enough to reach every corner of the massive army. “Sorry, these gods are entangled in a life or death discussion! About magic and more!”

“You’ve always been the best,” Ardex mumbled. “You are all so much better than me.”

The fox shook her fur and smiled broadly. “Had I not told you to stop listening to the voices of the Deathmates? One of Eeris’ children is rumored to be the God of Luck. The Tamli must have them on their side in some way.”

Ardex sighed. “Which means I can’t kill them under any circumstance.”

Feria cringed. “Erm, no, rather not. Convince them to join our side and Tamli will have no choice but to be united with the rest of Schola.”

“Frankly, I’ve lost faith in the idea of unity. It can’t happen. Not as long as animals keep remembering old injustices forever. Not as long as you are rewarded for protecting your group by killing the other group.”

“I will send Ismaraldah your way. Maybe the Goddess of Time can help.”

As thousands of soldiers looked at her, Feria elegantly walked away. “I’m going home to take care of Bella. Don’t take too long.”

Ardex hated traveling over water, but the plan was the plan. The entire army stepped onto their enormous fleet, built in secret. The Tamli would never see it coming. For decades, the Gupramils barely built a ship and never fought on water.

The plan was twofold. First they’d stop all traders and Tamli ships along the way. This would cut off their endless supply of gold and food.

Then they’d go ashore at the tip of Schola. The Tamli barely guarded that part, assuming no army would ever reach it.

He even contacted his little brother Gulvi, God of Water, to ensure the waves were kind and no sea storms suddenly appeared. Reluctantly, his brother had left the battle around the Dolphin Pass for this.

The sun shone. The seas were calm. Their fleet had successfully been kept a secret.

This was the moment.

The first ships they met tried to trade. Once they saw Ardex standing on deck, they instantly surrendered.

Some ships tried to turn around or use birds to sound an alarm. They were all swallowed by the Gupramil fleet.

The journey took many days longer than they wanted, but they eventually reached the tip, certain that all trade had ceased and nobody had sounded any alarm. How did they know? Because the harbor was still active and the beaches crowded with tourists and merchants.

The soldiers looked at each other incredulously. They grinned and nudged each other. It happened. The plan worked for once.

Had the Tamli’s final hour arrived?

These … these animals had no idea what was coming. They were no part of the war. Their children waved at the fleet and waved, as if they thought the gods were just coming for a friendly visit.

“We fight only those who resist,” Ardex proclaimed loudly, as they crested the final waves. “Leave everyone else alone.”

“Ignore that,” a tiger behind him said, the new general they’d found to take Mero’s place. “Hesitation only disadvantages us. Attack!”

Ardex sent a fireball in his general direction. Only the tiger’s quick reflexes saved him.

“Listen to—”

What were those weird trees? With gigantic yellow-brown nuts? He’d never seen those in Schola.

Yes, something like that grew on the Garda continent. But on the other side, where tall mountains replaced the beaches. So no, they couldn’t have ended up there.

This wasn’t Origina. You couldn’t reach that within a few days, not even if Gulvi helped you.

These weren’t Tamli harbors. This was an entirely different continent south of Garda!

His family had to know! For years, they were blocked from exploring further south by some invisible wall. He didn’t know what had changed, but the wall seemed broken. Bella had to know—it could be the key to their victory!

Their ships cut into the sand. The first soldiers ran from the gangway and scared the beachgoers.

He was too late to stop them.

“Gulvi! Turn us around!”

A dolphin jumped out of the water and pulled tall waves with him. The ships were lifted, shaken loose, turned around with so much force that planks fell off.

A small group of confused soldiers were left behind on the beach. The others quickly jumped back on the ship and clung to ropes and barrels.

“This isn’t Tamli territory! We sailed the wrong way!”

The soldiers were done with this. Their paws trembled from adrenaline and fear, their mind entirely focused on the fight they desired. They disobeyed and still sent arrows and cannonballs at the harbor, or they placed bets on how many they could kill when they did reach Tamli harbors.

Gulvi kept casting spells to save all animals on the beach, while sending all ships the other way at full speed.

So Tamli had a God of Luck. Or maybe Ardex was just the God of Bad Luck. Whatever it was, he gave up. Nobody conquers the Tamli kings.

As soon as they saw new shores, they immediately checked if they recognized the buildings and nature as Tamli territory. Once satisfied, they checked if the coast was clear. That was also true.

Ardex delayed as long as he could, but the entire army wanted ashore. The impatient, vengeful soldiers stopped following orders. The bloodthirsty beings finally forced the ships ashore somewhere near Candya’s territory.

Ardex left them. He couldn’t force them to obey him anymore, not unless he used violence. He ran back to the Gupramil capital.

Besides, he was sure a sudden snow storm, or falling star, or mysterious magic, or miscommunication would ensure that his army still would achieve nothing here.

As he ran into the palace, Ashorra just left the war room, casually throwing away the final wooden pawns that amounted to nearly 50,000 soldiers. Had birds brought him the message of their failure that quickly?

The king went to his bedroom.

“I am tired. Good night.”

No reaction. Usually Marili at least responded with a soft sleep tight.

“That is enough!” Ashorra said. The king ran upstairs, where he dusted off his armor and put it on. Carrying a double-sided sword with his trunk, he kicked open the bedroom door.

Ardex found that dramatic and was about to tell Ashorra what happened.

But he looked past the king and saw a completely empty room. All was tidy, dusted off, cleaned up and closed.

He threw open the curtains. The sunlight, which he hadn’t seen for years, visible hurt him.

“I haven’t seen Marili in a week,” Ashorra said. “Enough is enough!”

Ashorra stormed his own battle field. He knew where they were, he knew what they were doing, because he had given the orders. So many soldiers. So many ghosts. So much blood. So many voices.

He closed his eyes, dizzy and unsure on his paws.

Don’t be weak. Fight! Fight for your wife!

Such a hypocrite. Let your soldiers fight for you, but close your eyes when you enter the battle field yourself.

Be strong and crush those enemies. For a united Schola! For your grandfather!

Now he saw what one pawn on his map represented. An endless, endless row of animals on both sides. Every single one chased by their own Death, until they were unavoidably grabbed by their mate—never coming home.

“Who has taken my wife?” he bellowed. His army automatically formed around him, a gigantic elephant as the perfect center. The Tamli armies heard his voice, or its delayed echoes, and they laughed. They laughed at him.

“Aaaah!”

He dashed at the danger. His double sword, sharp on both sides, twisted round and round before him. He barely saw what he did, only enemies vanishing from his path. Sometimes his eyes closed. Sometimes he stepped straight through the Death of another, chilling him to the bone.

It motivated his own army. They yelled equally loudly and leapt at the enemy. They made progress—progress! Piece by piece, Candya’s territory was taken and conquered.

The Tamli king himself had to retreat. In the distance, behind a safe shield wall, he held an alarmed discussion with Are and Beeris.

“I am here!”

Marili’s voice. She did not sound in danger. She sounded … challenging?

He finally opened his eyes. He shouldn’t have.

Around him was only death and despair. So many soldiers. So many innocents caught in the fire. He almost fainted—and this wasn’t even half a pawn on the map. Before the battle was over, the bodies would pile up.

No more.

This wasn’t right. This was impossible. How could he ever pretend to be a good king as he commanded this?

Ah, I see now. You are weak.

“SHUT—UP.”

You froze amidst a battle field. Your soldiers are losing hope already.

“You are my Death,” he whispered. “Your only goal is to push me to my death as rapidly as possible. I’m not listening, I’m not listening.”

He found his wife.

Marili wore spiked armor and shot heavy stone balls with her trunk.

She fought for the enemy.

“Marili!” he yelled, pushing aside soldiers on both sides with his tusks. It felt like walking against a storm, wading through water.

Marili held four enemies at a distance. Her enemies—his soldiers. Her attacks were precise, elegant, and deadly.

“Marili! Stop this madness! How dare you fight against me?”

“I’m not. I fled to Candya to live in peace. Now I am defending myself!”

“Nonsense! Come with—”

“I am never coming with you again!” she screamed. The next bullet from her destroyed a Gupramil catapult.

“You are commanded to—”

“Your commands never mattered to me!” She twisted and pierced an incoming cannonball on her spikes. Now that everyone knew who she was, some were hesitant to attack, while others attacked gleefully.

They could almost touch each other. All fell silent. The fights seemed slowed down, sounds dulled, his entire world nothing more than Marili’s sweet, beautiful face.

“I stayed for love. For what I thought we could be together. A united, peaceful Schola. I wanted that—I wanted you.”

Ashorra extended his paw to her. “How could you not want me anymore? With how strong I’ve become?”

Marili stepped back, barely looking at him. “No. Deep inside you’re a soft, emotional boy. You let entire armies go out of love, just to save me. You think it’s a weakness—it’s your biggest strength.”

“And I still desire you here, at my side!”

“All life is suffering, and all suffering comes from desire.”

She cried.

Her Deathmate, a little boy with a naughty grin, jumped on top of her as if she were tasty prey.

She didn’t notice the next attack at her back.

“No!”

A flaming cannonball hit Marili and hurled her across the battle field like a leaf in the wind. She stayed down, lifeless, open eyes starting at a sky filled with arrows and fire.

Now don’t go crying, you soft king, you—

He fell on his side. And he cried tears until they turned to rivers flowing away from him. Marili. Sweet Marili. He loved her so. Why had he not told her every day? Why had he ever been angry with her? It was a miracle she even stayed all those years.

She should’ve stayed much longer, like his grandfather. But now …

“STOP!” he bellowed. Roaring and shaking he lifted himself off the floor, layers of dirt caked to his left side.

“Lay down your weapons. We pull back. Nobody fights anymore. The war is over.”

“What?” The tiger commander looked around and laughed at this. “Ignore that—”

“You’ve heard your king,” Ardex said, after which he removed a handful of weapons from soldier’s paws with one swing. Even the Tamli were rooted to the spot, although their army was almost exterminated.

A ghost floated before him. His own Death, a woman who chuckled and rubbed her hands.

Oh, yes, good plan. This will kill you much faster!

She was so convincing. So—

His Deathmate was suddenly attacked by another Deathmate, who was the exact opposite of Marili.

Focus. Clarity. For the first time in forever, he could think for himself.

“My command remains. We don’t fight anymore. The Tamli are welcome everywhere, you may keep your own area and riches, I don’t care.”

He turned around and walked away, destroying some more weapons.

The Tamli army was left behind uncertain. Some also dropped their weapons. Some eagerly took the opportunity to—

Beeris forced his way forward.

“Some would call your decision insane, Ashorra,” he said. “Naïve and stupid enough to end the Gupramils dynasty.”

He turned around and smiled at all soldiers.

“I am not one of such creatures.”

Side by side, they left the battle field to discuss the terms of their peace. But most of all, Beeris had to console the crying king after losing his beloved wife.

That’s what family did.

A wooden clock flashed before Ardex’ eyes and landed in a tree. The Goddess of Time—a white panda—rolled out of it, followed by the love of her life: the sun badger Didrik.

“Ironically, I do not have much time.”

They stood before each other. Ismaraldah was a half goddess, the daughter of one of his siblings. And that felt strange, especially because she was tiny and still more powerful than him. She controlled time!

“Fortunately, Feria told me your problem in the future, so I traveled back to the past to meet you.”

Silence returned.

“Ardex, sweet Ardex,” she said. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“You can see the future, right? So you know if I’m making the right choice?”

She and Didrik sighed simultaneously. They nervously circled their clock. How could they be out of time?

“That’s not how it works. Each time we travel somewhere and change something, the entire timeline changes to make up for it. I have lived a future in which I granted your wish. And it’s the exact reason why we are in a hurry now.”

“So my wish is bad?”

“No. As I just said, it changes. If I grant your wish this time, the timeline might form around it in a completely different way! That’s why we must be careful. Remove the wrong pebble and suddenly Schola never existed at all!”

“But, erm,” Didrik added, “the rules of time travel might also, erm, change soon.”

“What? What are you planning?”

“No time!” Ismaraldah squeaked. She was … she was glowing? “You want me to do it or not?”

He looked at the starry sky. He had learned something about himself now. He could either do his heavy duty as God of Death or remember the consequences—but not both.

He told a different reason to the outside world. “Yes. I thought about everything. As soon as I have this power, I can end this curse of us against them. Without taking away the happiness of being together or living in a herd.”

Ismaraldah reached for the Flamefeaster with a pained look. Ardex always wore his Heavenly Object around his paw or thick neck. She closed her eyes and muttered some words in the original language of the demigods, which the animals replaced long ago with Dovish.

His Flamefeaster shook and glowed. The frozen flame came to life, only for a few flickers, then froze in a new state—slightly larger than before.

“It … it is done.”

Ismaraldah sung around his neck for a warm hug. Didrik, surprisingly, did the same. Then they walked back to their wooden clock, kissing, and shot to a different time period.

Ashorra found joy in chasing away other animal’s Deathmates.

Today he had visited a poor farmer’s family at the edge of the capital. On entry, the dark room was littered with ghosts, like statues slowly coming out of the walls and attacking the sick family. He brought them food. He let soldiers clean the home and repair it. He promised they could always visit if problems returned.

When he left, each family member’s Death floated on a hill far away, frustrated and only killing time.

He had become Buhast. It was tough, but he slowly learned to let go and not desire … anything. More land, more riches, more revenge. He just was.

He had publicly announced his mistakes, how wrong he was, and how everything would change. All faiths were allowed. All opinions. Trade for themselves and Tamli became free again, which provided enough money to actually help Schola prosper.

In fact, Ashorra was even tempted to cut up the rules about succession, looking for a new king outside of his own royal family. Of course, many called him weak and insane now. But that was fine. He didn’t desire everyone’s love or acceptance, and allowed every opinion.

Though Marili never left his head. Regularly, he spent his evenings on the balcony with Ardex, who had to admit he had grown to love his conversations with the sweet Tamli elephant.

“Your Flamefeaster looks different,” Ashorra noticed. Ardex didn’t react. “Sometimes … sometimes I wish I could forget Marili. Forget the past. If those voices and bad memories would just be erased, it would almost be easy to be a good king.”

Ardex frowned at him. Ashorra nodded to the Flamefeaster again.

“Some rumors have started that some gods, some Heavenly Objects, have the power to erase …”

The saber-toothed tiger stepped aside, his Flamefeaster out of the elephant’s reach.

“No, you don’t want to forget Marili. The memory of her is exactly what keeps you on the right path. Knowing what it’s like to lose someone, allows you to love them more today. No love without loss.”

Ashorra laughed. Ardex almost sounded like his grandfather. “Where are these quotes coming from? Is there a guide to playing a wise god?”

Ardex raised his eyebrow even further. “You find me … wise?”

“Ah. Of course. You invented these quotes yourself.” Ashorra smiled and poked his trunk into the god’s side. “Forget I said anything.”

“I can give you another one.”

“Oh please, keep them to yourself.”

“No connection without vulnerability. I learned that one from a stubborn elephant.”

“Oh gods.” Ashorra stepped down the stairs. He could visit a few homes today to ask if they needed anything. It was a fragile peace, but the Tamli didn’t seem interested in attacking, especially not after losing that many soldiers. They’d rather swim in their gold.

“No freedom without force, how about that? Just off the top of my head, eh?”

Ashorra’s shaking laughter filled the starry sky. “Be well, God of Death. The world isn’t ready to continue without you. If I could do anything to help Bella heal …”

“You could be a good king. And keep your Death at bay.”

They shook each other’s paws. He waved as Ardex left, in a hurricane of fire and thunder, back to the Throne of Tomorrow on Origina.

And with that, dear reader, Ashorra started the Golden Age of Schola. Incredible peace, prosperity, and progress. Until, of course, the Hens came with a bigger army, and the gods weren’t around anymore to save them. Unless the Tamli, of course, who were never conquered. Fortunately for Ashorra and the others, all this was still far in the future.

And so it was that life continued …