The problem with explorers who discovered continents was that Frambozi and Casbrita were bound to show up shortly after. Olombos discovered central Elwar for Esprante centuries ago. Since then, Casbrita had colonized the shoreline, and the Frambozi all territory behind it. Even the Lowlands made a play, but ended up with just a tiny colony.

This meant a large area existed that they both claimed to own. The Frambozi had started building castles—or forts—there.

And so General Wasserbox, of the Casbrita army, received the mission to stop that.

Officially, he was known as a special messenger, not a soldier. But the king had whispered spy missions in his ear and, if possible, to take any ill-defended fort. Wasserbox completely agreed.

Through the darkness, his platoon—few soldiers, not all armed—crept towards Fort Le Boef.

And they took a different route than agreed upon.

Despite growing murmurs among his soldiers, Wasserbox followed the Ohoi River in the wrong direction. He soon arrived at a small circle of torches, illuminating a meadow with beautifully painted tepees—the pointy huts built by Elwar’s original inhabitants. Olombos had called them Scholians at first, because he thought he’d landed in Schola, but now they called them natives or Elwari.

Natives suddenly appeared in the shadows and surrounded Wasserbox’ soldiers. Their bows were drawn, aimed at Wasserbox.

When the leader of the Elwarians saw the general, he smiled and spread his arms. Wasserbox did the same. It was a gesture; they never truly hugged one another, for they both still considered the other contagious. The bows were lowered.

Wasserbox held a pile of gold coins in his hand. He was a monkey, one of the few animal species who actually had hands, just like his entire platoon.

“Any news about Frambozi?”

“Fort Le Boef is heavily armed and houses one of the highest Frambozi generals. If you go there, you’ll have to play your role as messenger convincingly,” the leader said. The imposing buffalo had white stripes on his face and a crown of feathers.

“We’ve spotted tiny groups of Frambozi soldiers marching through the night. They are with few and barely armed, because they try to do something unseen. You could easily surprise them and win.”

Wasserbox puffed. “They’re trying to reach our territory. Filthy Frambozi.”

“And what exactly were you doing, general?” the buffalo asked bravely.

Wasserbox thought about this. He thought he heard footsteps in the distance, the crackling sound of something heavy crunching twigs and leaves. Then he handed the buffalo some coins and turned to his soldiers.

“Leave your weapons behind. Only me and the vice-general keep our guns.”

“Pardon?” his vice-general said.

“We are nothing more than simple messengers. But if the Frambozi reject our message, we return here and chase the other prey.”

His soldiers studied the buffaloes with suspicion. They probably saw a future in which the natives stole their weapons and left. Filthy Elwari, not to be trusted. But Wasserbox was their leader, and his family had a long history of friendship with the Elwari, so they did as he asked.

They walked further into the darkness. And indeed, not half an hour later a Frambozi patrol intercepted them. A large group of otters with a few marmots. Their clothes were actually made for the cold winter weather in the north of Elwar. Wasserbox still hoped he’d be assigned in the south one day, near the warm tropical islands.

The patrol led them in silence towards Fort Le Boef. The Frambozi were not friendly, but also not hostile. This was simply what you were supposed to do. Enemy non-combatants, such as messengers, were to be treated well. Wasserbox had counted on it and would have done the same to them.

They entered the fort. Its interior was comfortably warm and contained busy otters going about their tasks. The hallway stored large piles of bayonets: musket guns with a sharp bit attached at the front that also allowed stabbing whoever came close. They weren’t allowed to linger there, of course.

The platoon ended in the guest room, which was decorated with tapestries and paintings of all Frambozi kings, and nothing else. Their highest general awaited their message there.

“The King of Casbrita,” Wasserbox said formally, “request that you retreat all Frambozi troops from Elwar. We own the valuable area along the coast, which actually contains cities and most animals. You have the large emptiness behind it. And it is large, we admit, but it gives you nothing. We were here first. So pull back and concede victory to Casbrita, to prevent more bloodshed.”

The general, a lynx, extended his paw and quickly received paper and ink. Holding the writing feather in his mouth, he wrote, in unmistakable terms, that Casbrita were to shut up and Frambozi would take all their territory soon. And if Casbrita really cared about who was here first, they’d give back all their colonies to the natives.

Wasserbox received food and warm clothes. Then he was sent back to his king with this message.

Despite the good treatment, as soon as they left the fort Wasserbox hissed: “The time of friendly messages is over. We attack.”

Of course they first returned to the natives. They had barely moved in the meantime. When all their weapons were accounted for, the platoon breathed a sigh of relief.

Then they followed the Ohoi river in the general direction of that other Frambozi squad moving through the night. They lit no lantern and posted no guards, which made it hard to find them. The sun was about to rise when one of his soldiers froze because he almost accidentally stumbled over the legs of an enemy soldier.

In a flash, all his soldiers pulled their weapons and pointed them at the Frambozi squad. But shooting down sleeping soldiers like this? Slaughtering them mercilessly? Wasserbox would not accept that.

“Hey!” he yelled. With dazzling speed, the Frambozi woke up and assumed defensive positions. “You’re outnumbered. We’ve already won. Surrender, hand over your weapons, you are now captives.”

He knew the Frambozi refused to learn the Casbrita language, on purpose. But the general commands were similar enough to be understood.

“You don’t win until you win,” their general said. His uniform was dragged down by scores of medallions, a name tag that said Jumbodor, and a symbol that also marked him as a special messenger.

“You know you can’t escape this,” Wasserbox said calmly. Because of the encirclement, half their soldiers hadn’t even been able to grab their weapon. The other half looked sleepy. “If you shoot, we shoot. You dead, we barely a scratch.”

“And if we don’t shoot, we lose anyway.”

Tensions ramped up. Both sides knew the best outcome, for all, would be not to shoot. But the best outcome for your group was if you shot and the others didn’t. If you were the first to shoot, maybe you could even win before the other could respond.

Paws, fingers, and tails curled around the triggers of musket guns. Despite the snow, sweat dripped from all Casbrita faces. The generals stared at each other.

Someone shot.

Wasserbox didn’t know who. Several others shot in response. The fight lasted only seconds, barely long enough to fire twice. And when the dust cleared, most of the Frambozi were dead, just as a handful of his own soldiers.

Crucially, Jumbodor had fallen. A letter fell out of his inside pocket. Wasserbox came close and saw it was a message for Casbrita that contained the same request: that the enemy pulled back to prevent more bloodshed.

His eyes slid over Jumbodor’s dead body. He must have been a highly placed general.

“We must leave! Now!” he yelled.

Whatever was left of his platoon ran after him, along the Ohoi River. Some ran into the water, afraid Frambozi could appear behind any tree now and shoot them.

Run. Run until they were back in Casbrita territory. And then? This would—

By afternoon they were shot at from all directions. Multiple Frambozi troops had caught their trail and hunted them like predators.

Wasserbox led his men to the nearest castle: Fort Necessity. A fitting name. They could already see the tall gray towers. A group of heavily armed apes already opened the gates.

When they saw just how many Frambozi hunted Wasserbox, however, they closed them again.

“Hey! Open the gates! I—”

A bullet grazed his fingers. The shock and the pain made him hesitate, even though he wasn’t wounded. A deep sigh escaped.

He raised his hands, a mile away from Fort Necessity. His soldiers did the same. Soon, otters, marmots and lynxes flooded from the forest and surrounded them for arrest.

Wasserbox was chained and given a form. One written in the Frambozi language, not his own. A translator appeared and told him it was a standard document for the losing side in a battle. One that declared you surrendered and all your soldiers became captives of the enemy. Wasserbox himself was allowed to return, or so the Frambozi honor demanded.

Still reeling from his failure, he signed it.

What he didn’t know, dear reader, was that the document also stated he took full responsibility of the brutal murder on high general Jumbodor. That the Casbrita had executed this murder on purpose because they found the Frambozi lesser beings. And that this was a war crime, especially after their good treatment of Wasserbox at Fort Le Boef.

Within a day, a gigantic world-wide war broke out between Casbrita and Frambozi.

When Jefizon heard the total price of the books he ordered, he screamed as if dying. “My good man, that price per book could buy you an entire house in the old days!”

“Not my choice,” the shopkeeper said. “The next idiotic law Casbrita conjured up.”

Jefizon frowned. “Why would they make books needlessly expensive? What do they gain from that?”

“Not books. Everything must now be done on paper with a royal stamp, and well, you pay for that.”

“Well, my good man, I am not paying that!”

He could pay it just fine. But his principles forbid it. Not a single cent of his would enrich Casbrita.

Ever since Casbrita won their war against the Frambozi—after seven years of gruesome battle—it was broke. They owned all of Elwar, but lacked the money to do anything else now. Harsher and harsher taxes were levied on the poor Elwari to fatten the treasure chest once more.

When Jefizon stepped outside, he was reminded of something even worse. Casbrita did spend millions each year to have soldiers patrol their cities. He couldn’t take a single step without bumping into someone with a bayonet. He couldn’t attend a single event without being surrounded by a thousand Casbrita soldiers “for their protection”.

And for what? Nobody would ever attack them. Everyone else was gone from Elwar; only Casbrita remained.

He saw only one logical conclusion.

Jefizon ducked inside a nondescript building. He entered a dark room lit by candles, with half-empty glasses decorating every piece of furniture. There he found Ajay. As always, he sat in a chair and watched the events on the town square through a window.

“Did you hear about the new stamp taxes?” Jefizon asked. He grabbed a book off the piano to read it.

“Chokers, they are,” Ajar mumbled. “Make us pay for their oppression.”

“They did defend us against the Frambozi.”

Ajay leaned forward; something happened on the town square.

“Casbrita owns the entire coast. Nobody else can colonize Elwar. So, tell me Jef, agains whom do they defend us now? Ay? Nobody. All those patrolling soldiers only exist to crush us if we start a revolution.”

Jefizon didn’t look up from his book. “The number of soldiers isn’t that high. They should have a hundred times more soldiers if they really wanted to contain us.”

Ajay stood up and leaned against the window. “And that’s why we must hit them hard, now.”

A struggling squirrel was pulled onto the town square by a large female ape. She yelled to everyone who wanted to hear.

“This one wanted to collect my taxes,” she yelled. Without looking, as if the squirrel weighed nothing, she pushed him in all directions. “This one has been purchasing Casbrita goods for months. What do we say to that?”

No Casbrita soldiers were near. So everyone dared say it.

“No! We say no!”

The squirrel was bound to a pole. Several bystanders held barrels and threw their contents over the victim. One barrel held tar—a black, sticky goo—and the other feathers. By the time they removed the squirrel from the square, he couldn’t move anymore.

Ajay smiled. “Believe me, nobody will pay that paper tax.”

“We still need paper,” Jefizon said. “I need books.”

Ajay turned around and looked deadly serious. “Then I suppose we’ll see you covered in feathers soon too, won’t we?”

“That’s absurd! I’m the core of this rebellion! After all I’ve done? Pay tax to Casbrita once and you’d throw me away?”

Ajay nodded, his face hardened. “Victories demand hard decisions.”

Jefizon shook his head. “That’s just a great way to chase away any potential rebels.”

More animals entered. This café was the meeting place of the Children of Freedom, and by now the group had grown to include the entire neighborhood. A boycot only worked if everyone participated. If they all refused to drink tea from Casbrita, their oppressors would not earn anything and would have to remove their taxes.

They weren’t going to live without tea, of course! That would be madness! For now, they filled this hole by smuggling tea from the Lowlands into Elwar.

A table in the center of the room was cleared and covered in rows of paper. Papers that told everyone which goods to boycot now, and which inhabitants they suspected to ignore that. Most of the names had checkmarks. The non-checkmarks would … receive a visit tonight.

If you didn’t look too closely, you’d think that this neighborhood had formed its own little government and police.

The door swung open. An imposing monkey brought snow into the room and looked at everyone as if he owned the place. A more reserved animal came in behind him, with paint strokes on her cheeks that marked her as a native.

“My name is Wasserbox,” he said. “And—”

“You’re in the wrong place,” Ajay said, making himself big. “I know your face. You’ve fought for Casbrita all your life.”

Wasserbox sighed. “And look what it brought me. Never progressed further than a small platoon of soldiers. After my … blunder they never let me—”

“And we’re not looking for blundering—”

“I know who you are,” Jefizon said, finally putting his book away. “I read all about you! You’re one of the best generals that ever lived. I would like to welcome you to our … café.”

Wasserbox puffed and threw his winter jacket over a pointy armchair. “Everyone knows this is not a café. I want to include myself with your operations.”

Ajay walked past him and grabbed the native. The female monkey shivered and forgot to blink.

“And then you bring this filth inside our walls!?”

“Do not underestimate Fuja. The best spy I know. I found you thanks to her.” He leaned forward to gray Ajay’s wrist, and spoke softly but clearly. “If you don’t let her go now, I’ll throw you through the window.”

Ajay froze. He let her go and stomped back this chair near the window. “Did anyone follow you? The stench of a native sticks out. You probably didn’t—”

“I did. I am familiar with the Casbrita Parliament. You may think you can win, but they will never surrender. The more you boycot, the more they’ll try to control you. You are living in heavenly freedom now compared to what the colonies will suffer in a year’s time.”

Wasserbox sat down calmly besides the table flooded with paper. All those present kept their distance, except Jefizon. He fell into the chair next to the old general and asked if all the events he read about were true. Wasserbox claimed they were.

“If you are right,” Ajay said reluctantly, “then we must hit harder. We’re far too soft now.”

Another monkey entered. He looked serious and grumpy, as if he was always trying to perform a very difficult math operation in his mind.

“Ah! Bardams!” Jefizon said cheerfully.

Bardams’ greeting was a briefly raised hand. When he saw Wasserbox, he merely said: “Explain?”

“Jefizon claims he’s a Casbrita general who wants to switch sides,” Ajay said.

“Fine,” Bardams grumbled.

“Fine!? Am I the only one here who—”

Bardams had also brought someone. A slave.

Shockwaves coursed through the room. Suddenly, Wasserbox was seen as the better stranger, and many beings suddenly had something to do on the upper floor. Several candles went out from the surprised gasps.

This rhino was scarred and burned all over, giving the impression of a monster waiting to be unleashed. But he was muscular and held himself powerfully, as a being not to be messed with. A scar ran over his face but narrowly dodged his eyes, which looked sharp and keen to take in everyone in the room.

And he was out of chains! His paws and horn were completely free! The only thing that marked him a slave was his grey skin and lack of fur, a clear sign they were underdeveloped and of lesser intelligence.

Jefizon knew this wasn’t true. That skin was actually tougher and losing fur when not needed made you more efficient. But animals told themselves what they wanted, and this rhino was seen as nothing more than a machine to do work for you.

Ajay screamed. “Please tell me this is a joke.”

“This is the final slave that my family possessed,” Bardams said. “I’ve given them all their freedom. This one repeatedly insisted he wanted to fight for us.”

“The answer is no.”

“You’d turn away capable fighters on prejudice alone?” Bardams reacted sharply.

“Bardams is right,” Wasserbox said, now comfortably the center point of the café. Perhaps too comfortable, even Jefizon thought. “Tell slaves they can fight for us. You’ll get a thousand soldiers for free, who are already familiar with following commands.”

Ajay closed the door and locked it, as if afraid otherwise a dozen more monkeys would arrive with “surprises”.

“Then it’s finally time to devise an ambitious plan,” Ajay said, “to remove all Casbrita soldiers from our lands.”

Ajay and Jefizon sat behind the window again, looking at a Casbrita messenger that announced new idiotic laws on the town square. Behind them sat Wasserbox, who studied the military map. Fuja, the native he’d brought, walked around them and seemed ever present in the café.

The first new law made it illegal to found new cities outside of the colonies. The current colonies were just a tiny piece of Elwar; further from the coast, it was just empty hills and grass plains. Casbrita had stumbled into so much land they didn’t know what to do with it.

The second new law said, with many nice words, that Casbrita was allowed to do with the colonies whatever they pleased. Their laws were more important than colonial laws. If they said something should happen, then it happened.

The probably did so to support their final new law. That contained a large package of taxes on everything they had to import from Casbrita: paper, glass, oil, and of course their beloved tea.

Wasserbox growled. “An invasion of our rights and privileges!”

“Say it, my good man, say it,” Jefizon said, distracted by a book and drinking tea.

“We must not give in to the actions of a tyrant!” Wasserbox said, getting red-faced and also drinking tea. “Or we’ll become as tame and abject as slaves, the other-coloreds over whom we rule with such nonchalance!”

Jefizon frowned. “Shouldn’t you write our speeches?”

“No,” said Ajay immediately. “I write those. And Wasserbox … don’t think you’ll ever get my trust. Only a spy so clearly plays their passion against the enemy.”

He left the room. Wasserbox shrugged, marked a spot on the map, and walked outside.

Jefizon looked at Fuja, who tried to play a simple melody on the piano. Since their first meeting, he’d never entered the café without her being there.

“Should you not go home?” he asked.

She looked to the side in shock, as if ashamed of her bad piano playing. “What do you think? That I have a fold-up tepee waiting outside for me?”

“Well, my good woman, I don’t know. Surely you come from somewhere?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes red. “A poor group of natives exterminated by colonists. They took our freedom.”

Jefizon shut his book and sipped more tea. “I am sorry to hear that. But, well, logically speaking, they have the freedom to exterminate you too then, don’t they?”

Fuja glared at him. “Are you serious?”

“What is freedom to you then? That you may do as you please, but not others? You had the freedom to defend yourself better!”

“Oh, screw you. We had spears! They had guns!”

“No need to get so angry, my good woman,” he said. “At least I understand why you fight with us.”

“We’re doing far too little! You … you sit here all day, watching through the window, playing card games!”

“Yes, and if we just walk into those soldiers without a plan—”

Fuja shut the piano lid with a bang. “All of you are rich idiots. And that has cut you off of reality.”

Jefizon was often teased for being the poorest of them all, unable to control even his finances. His obsession with buying things was mostly to blame, though, and even then he was still rich to most.

“What … what are you saying?”

“The animals on the streets, they want action now. They want food now. Not when a bunch of rich boys decides it’s time.” Fuja rose and came within an inch of Jefizon’s face. He grew nervous, especially when she grabbed his hand. “You have the time and space to start a real fight against your oppressors. So do it.”

“Ajay would not agree. Not so fast.”

“Screw Ajay.”

“You natives do have a lot of problems with the idea of hierarchy, don’t you?”

Fuja spilled his tea, slapped him in the face and walked away.

“Sorry! I …” Jefizon stumbled after her and made her pause in the doorway. “I … my good woman, did anyone ever tell you that you have beautiful eyes?”

Her expression became unreadable. She blushed while furious. Then she ran away.

Jefizon tried to follow, but learned how right Fuja was. What was the last time he had ran? His stamina was terrible. Fuja had no such troubles.

By the time he reached another square, placed before an imposing church, she’d already made a ruckus. One lonely Casbrita soldier guarded the square and was now peppered by snow balls. The attackers yelled that Casbrita had to disappear and that they wouldn’t pay any of the taxes.

The soldier quickly received support, but so did the rebels. Snow balls became ice balls, became stones, became anything sharp and heavy they could find.

The support for the soldiers quickly ceased. Apparently, only ten Casbrita soldiers patrolled this entire neighborhood. Just as Jefizon thought: Casbrita did not control them, not really.

The angry mob grew and grew, more and more furious. Fuja stood somewhere in their center. Maybe she hadn’t started it, but she sure made it worse.

Jefizon fought a way through the mob. The soldiers kept their discipline, guns down, and suffered it all with tired eyes.

“Fuja! Stop!”

Jefizon could almost touch her crown of feathers, but two buffaloes pushed him aside.

They throw glass shards and said Casbrita should die. The first shards bumped against the soldiers’ helmets; until one of them sliced through a uniform, like a knife in the back.

The soldiers panicked.

They started shooting, blindly, wildly, at the mob.

“No! STOP FIRING!” Jefizon screamed. With a leap, he thought he’d found Fuja’s arms.

Half the mob fell to the floor. Some kept throwing, until they were shot down. Many turned around and fled, screaming and terrified, but not all of them reached home.

Jefizon’s head hurt from the endless noise. White smoke descended on the square, hiding the positions of the Casbrita soldiers. He pulled Fuja upright and dragged her to safety, stumbling over the bodies of fallen animals.

Until he found a wall to hide behind, out of breath and hand in hand with Fuja.

When the shots subsided, the square was covered in many wounded and a handful of dead bodies.

Later, dear reader, they’d call this the Bosnot Bloodbath. Not because of the number of deaths, but because they killed unarmed protesting animals. The rest of the world increasingly saw Casbrita as devils now, and the inhabitants of the colonies as victims.

The home of Bosnot’s governor was on fire. After several spy missions led by Fuja, they’d uncovered evidence that he was secretly loyal to Casbrita and actively sentenced rebels to death. They were disappointed they couldn’t grab the man himself before he fled.

In the meantime, Jefizon used his shopping addiction to buy loads of weapons and ammunition. It started in the colony of which Bosnot was the capital, but thanks to other generous donors, more and more colonies could arm their civilians. The Casbrita had no clue, but every front door now hid a weapon, ready and loaded.

Their next plan was even better. Jefizon and Fuja had collected the information. Wasserbox already knew a lot about the habits and structures of Casbritan soldiers, which allowed them to pick the perfect moment.

Midnight. Disguised as natives, thanks to Fuja. Partially to hide their true identities, partially to show Casbrita that they were also still furious at them.

Everyone wanted Wasserbox to lead. But Ajay insisted, as leader of the Children of Freedom, that he’d do so. Bardams never participated in the fighting, which caused even more squibbling among them. In the end, his spot was taken up by the slave rhino: Pikan.

Which could not be his real name, Jefizon knew, because rhino names always contained an “r”. But he didn’t resist, because Pikan was clearly the strongest of them all.

“Climb in the highest mast,” Ajay commanded. “Let us know when soldiers are coming. If you dare.”

Pikan rolled his eyes and crawled over the ship. The others followed at a slower pace. Once on deck, they spread out.

The ship, part of the Casbrita fleet, was gigantic. It would take hours to search all the corners. Fortunately, they knew exactly what they wanted: the thousands of crates containing goods that should be in the ship’s hold.

Wasserbox entered the hold first. He had to suppress laughter when he saw their loot. With a grin, he studied the piles of tea that Casbrita had imported to Bosnot. Their new laws had turned back many taxes after the Bosnot Bloodbath … but not the one on tea. They’d chosen that beloved drink as their hill to die on.

Ajay landed next to him. “One crate at a time. No noise. NOW!”

The team pulled crate after crate to the surface, only to throw away all the tea in the sea. But they were too slow; the crates too heavy. Wasserbox grabbed the metal edge of his gun and started smashing holes in the side of the ship’s hull.

“I gave no permission for that!” Ajay said. “Stop that!”

“If we have to carry every—”

Pikan tapped the mast. “Erm, Ajay, everyone. You should see this.”

“Soldiers?” Ajay asked anxiously. He climbed the ladder upwards and saw the truth: hundreds of Bosnot civilians had left their homes. Some cheered them on. Some ran to the ship to help them.

Tens of crates were now pulled from the hold every minute. Countless kilograms of tea, thrown in the sea with great pleasure. A loss to Casbrita nearing millions of dollars. The longer it went on, the more enthusiasm to their destruction.

“I don’t trust it,” Ajay suddenly said. “Pull back! Abort! This is enough!”

“What?” Wasserbox exclaimed. But he recognized Ajay as the designated leader, and they all pulled back, sending the people back home.

The hold was far from empty. There were two more ships like this one, probably holding just as much tea.

Yes, they’d thrown away tons of tea, dealt Casbrita a blow. But they could’ve accomplished so much more if Ajay—

As they retreated, the first soldiers pushed their way through the crowds. Ajay commanded everyone, again, to let it all be and don’t get caught.

They jumped into the water, which now had an odd taste. Jefizon assumed the crowd would give them more time to flee.

When he resurfaced, Fuja suddenly gave him a kiss.

“This,” she whispered, “is what we should do more often.”

And then, dear reader, Casbrita obviously came with a devestating reaction to this treachery. Because for some reason, some animals can’t just let something happen without feeling the incredibl desire to take even greater revenge.

Casbrita had sent a new boatload of soldiers to keep Bosnot in check. They also removed the ability of colonies to govern themselves. In practice, all decisions in the colonies were now made directly by the parliament in Casbrita—on the other side of the world.

The increased presence of soldiers forced the Children of Freedom to leave their café. Fortunately, all the rich founders had an estate somewhere, and Ajay did not trust anyone’s home but his own, so they went there.

Jefizon realized that they had been lucky so far, and they’d need even more luck if they wanted to win against the incredible force of Casbrita. Their guns were so primitive that they could not hold a bayonet. Their ammunition was almost depleted. The Casbrita soldiers outnumbered them 100 to 1. He’d once read about a Demigod of Luck, and he really hoped to find the good man someday.

Jefizon and Fuja immediately picked out a bedroom together.

Until Ajay came between them. He leaned in the doorway, his strict eyes on the couple.

“Stop this,” he said. “Either you end the relationship, or you can both go.”

“That is absurd, Ajay,” Jefizon said, holding Fuja.

“Then go and never come back,” he said, his left hand pointing at the exit.

“After all we’ve done for the rebels?” Jefizon said in disbelief. “Now that we’re winning?”

“You see, love makes you blind,” Ajay growled. “We are not winning. Our joke with the tea has chased us out of Bosnot. And I have proof that Fuja is a spy.”

“Yes. For us.”

“OUT!”

Jefizon and Fuja released each other’s warm hands. After a long silence, Fuja was first to speak.

“I fear … that we should not see each other any longer,” she said. Then she left, crying.

Jefizon stayed behind, angry and alone. Ajay seemed satisfied, until Jefizon walked past him and bumped his shoulder hard.

“I don’t trust a revolution where love isn’t allowed.”

When Jefizon came downstairs, Fuja was already gone. She wouldn’t leave completely, right? Had he … had he read the signals in her eyes correctly? She secretly wanted to stay together?

The door opened and a long-lost member of the rebels entered. Benni Fracclin, a bit fatter than last time, but just as joyful and charismatic.

“Ah, Jefizon! You look as if the clouds are about to murder you. Let me cheer you up with good news: our inventors think they’ve found an improvement to our pistols. Soon, we’ll shoot faster and better than Casbrita!”

Ajay descended the stairs and called everyone together for an important meeting. Until he saw Fracclin.

“Benni, you must stop your visits to the science fairs.”

He frowned. “What now again?”

“And leave the Elwar Council of Inventors.”

Fracclin shook his head. “Won’t happen, Ajay. I never thought you would fear scientists!”

“You are freaks. Your reputation makes all the rebels look silly and insane. Stop it.”

Fracclin studied the others. He had a bald forehead, which the back of his head seemed to compensate by growing very long hairs that already turned grey. He’d never been a fighter or a hero, but probably the most clever and warm person in the rebellion.

“Oh come on,” Wasserbox said. “You’re not—”

“I would think a soldier like you understood the harsh decisions made by a boss. Me, Ajay, the boss.”

Wasserbox laughed. “Who must repeat they are boss, is not—”

“Have you ever read a book? Or used your brain cells?” Jefizon sneered. “Wasserbox is known for listening to everyone’s advice. It is good to speak out against your boss if they are about to make a big mistake. The only thing the leader does, and this is a noble deed not to be abused, is make the final decisions.”

Ajay was silent for a while.

“Well, then, my final decision is that Fracclin must stop his wizard work and Fuja can stay away. Didn’t trust her from the start.”

If there’d been a vote, nobody would have picked Ajay as leader. But Ajay founded these rebels, took care of all the logistics, and had the most money and connections to make it all happen.

And so, with a depressed mood, everyone took their places in a circle around Ajay.

“What important news?” Bardams asked. As usual, they’d all forgotten he was here.

“The call has come,” Ajay said with a smile. “Philadinna. The biggest leaders and thinkers of each colony have been invited to gather there. They call it the Continental Congress. We will discuss how we can cooperate and rule Elwar once Casbrita is gone.”

“If Casbrita can be removed,” Jefizon said.

“It will happen,” Ajay replied confidently.

Fracclin coughed and had a crooked smile. “Are you sure you want to forbid me from … doing my sidejobs outside of the rebellions?”

Ajay frowned. “Yes. I thought I was clear.”

“And what if I tell you that I came up with this idea and pulled the strings to make this entire darn congress happen? Still want me to stop doing that, Ajay?”

He fell silent, face blank, then turned around and left.

The intention was to send one person, where Fracclin was the obvious choice. But Jefizon wanted to come too. And Bardams. And Ajay obviously would not send his best rebels without being there himself to check what they were doing.

And so, all of them arrived in Philadinna. All colonies had sent their best representatives. For some, this meant the governors of their biggest cities—at least, before they were removed and replaced by an animal that favored Casbrita more. For others, this meant important soldiers or philosophers like Bardams.

In the end, a large room was filled with animals. Some who knew everything about laws and governing a land, and some who knew how to defeat an enemy army. Everyone was allowed to speak and give their thoughts.

But the rebels were surprised about what was said.

All the other colonies wanted to repair relations with Casbrita. Negotiate an advantageous peace, open up trade again, and strengthen the colonies that way.

Their only luck was that Bardams and Jefizon were recognized as perhaps the most important beings there. Their achievements, degrees and genius made them almost the boss of the Congress. They were able to give a counter-narrative.

“And what if Casbrita never wants peace?” Bardams said. “Then we weaken ourselves while they strike!”

“The distance is their problem,” Jefizon added. “New troops from Casbrita must travel by sea, for months, before they arrive here. We might send a proposal for peace … while they’ve already sent a thousand ships our way. They’ll laugh at our faces!”

“We are in no condition to fight Casbrita,” another voice said. “Our soldiers are loose squads of fathers and sons, spread over the colonies. Our economy has ground to a halt because Casbrita stopped importing anything! No, peace is the first path to try.”

“Then think of the principle,” Bardams said. “No animal should be owned or controlled by another. The colonies should belong to those who live there, not the Casbrita far away. We must free ourselves out of principle. We could be the first country in the world where dictators and kings are removed forever! Like we should’ve abolished slavery long ago.”

This received a stronger reaction. Especially in the southern colonies, where they lived almost entirely off of the back of slave labor. The entire area was filled with plantations that grew luxury products like cotton and sugar. Farmed by slaves.

In the end, the Congress lasted for six weeks. That was the downside of giving everyone their turn to speak.

Wasserbox was there, but said nothing. Ajay had forbidden him from traveling with them, at first, but then he was invited individually by other Congressmembers because they recognized his military brilliance. Then Wasserbox had asked Pikan to join, the rhino who used to be Bardams’ slave, because he was impressed with his military prowess. So now even slaves were allowed to hear all their secret discussions!

Ajay wondered if everyone had gone insane and forgotten Wasserbox’ past at Casbrita, because he surely hadn’t.

The Congress could only agree on two things. All soldiers had to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice. And they’d quickly hold a new Congress, if their peace proposal was rejected by Casbrita.

The rebels traveled back home in their coachwagon, pulled by six horses. Bardams found this usage of horses abominable too, but had to admit that the distance was too great for walking. Even the most expensive wagon would take weeks.

Especially if, miles before your destination, you were ambushed by a group of natives.

The Elwari blocked the path and yelled to get their attention. They kept weapons ready, but didn’t point them at the wagon yet. The horses refused to continue walking through two large tepees ahead of them.

Wasserbox was brave enough to jump out the wagon instantly.

“Is there a problem?” he asked calmly. “Or shall we call this an unfortunate meeting and we’ll take a different route home?”

From the crowd of natives, Fuja appeared. Jefizon jumped out of the wagon too at the sight of her smiling face.

“There is a problem. But you are lucky again, because you’re just in time for a surprise attack.”

Casbrita had heard rumors about the Continental Congress. In anticipation of an attack by the colonies, they’d decided to attack first. A logical move if you didn’t know the colonies were actually suing for peace. The natives had seen them, creeping through the night.

When Jefizon thought Ajay was out of earshot, he sought out Fuja. Hidden in the shadows of old trees, they kissed and held each other.

“Come back, please?” he asked.

“Can we keep this a secret while living and working together?”

“Ajay can change. I just—”

“No, he can’t. You know that.”

“Remember what I said? The world needs total, absolute freedom. Ajay is free to control us, I am free to fight back … but I feel too weak to do so. There is only one option: we both leave the rebellion.”

“If it makes you so unhappy,” Fuja said in disbelief, “why do you still stand behind absolute freedom? Why do you still own slaves?”

“It’s not about what makes me happy now, my good woman. It’s about what’s good for the entire world!”

Fuja looked full of pity. “I need to take revenge for my folk. Your bookworm genius is needed to build this land into something better. Are we going to throw that away?”

He wanted to hold Fuja far longer, but the sound of footsteps pushed them apart. Indeed, it was Ajay who held a lantern and scoured the forest. As if he was purposely looking for something like this.

He only found Fuja, alone.

“Where is Pikan?” she asked innocently.

“Locked in the wagon. He’s a slave.”

“Was a slave.”

“He is unreliable, like you.” Ajay’s face grew almost monstrous, lit from below. “Keeps disappearing all the time, refuses to elaborate.”

Shaking his head, Ajay stomped away and mumbled about how there was nobody he could trust.

Wasserbox had released the horses from the wagon. Him, Bardams and Fracclin had all used one to ride in a different direction and gather soldiers. If thy were fast, they could not only stop Casbrita from controlling more territory, they could even defeat them. With that goal in sight, they rode their horses even faster.

The soldiers they found weren’t amazing. Some wouldn’t even know how to shoot a musket gun. Others were too unhealthy to run for more than a minute. They’d all have to make do.

Bardams was proven right again: waiting and seeking peace with Casbrita had made them sluggish, too unprepared.

At dawn, their improvised army encountered troops from Casbrita. On hilly terrain, surrounded by a few thin rivers, the troops faced each other and fired the first shots.

And Wasserbox lost.

His troops were untrained, sleepy, more likely to shoot themselves than the opponent. They were outnumbered; Casbrita had seemingly put their entire army on Elwar.

He had to fall back, further and further away from his friends. Before his eyes fell soldiers whom he’d just pulled out of their beds with promises. Pikan fought fiercely, but he commanded him to stay by his side, afraid to lose the rhino that had quickly become a reliable soldier to him.

His troops were pushed with their back against the river. If they ever wanted to cross, they had to turn around and give Casbrita the perfect opportunity to shoot them in the back.

This wasn’t how it’s supposed to be. Were they not the good side? Were they not the heroes who would free the colonies?

He realized how lucky he’d been, time and time again.

Until this time, as if agreed upon, luck arrived on his side too.

A thick fog descended over the land. Thick enough to obscure Wasserbox’ army from vision, allowing them to cross the river in secret. Once on the other side, they were actually in a favorable position. They stood higher than their enemy and the raging water was a natural shield.

They shot the Casbrita soldiers back to where they came from. And as they retreated, through the hilly colony, Casbrita discovered what it meant if an entire continent wants you gone. Behind every corner, in every village, beings were ready to shoot at them.

However fast Casbrita ran, they always met new Elwar soldiers, most of them enlisted by Fracclin. Bardams tried, sure, but he was far less charismatic and convincing than his friend. It also seemed as if Fracclin had friends and family on every inch of Somnia.

Until Casbrita had no other choice than to pull back all the way to Bosnot, where they stationed themselves like a tortoise receding into its shell.

As a consequence of this event, the second Continental Congress was held earlier than planned. The rebels had barely arrived home or they had to travel again. This time, however, they knew the other leaders would be on their side.

“Casbrita has shown they do not want peace,” Bardams plead before the overcrowded room in Philadinna. “They want to suppress the colonies and shoot down anyone that annoys them. The only reason they haven’t done so yet, is because they have too few soldiers, but reinforcements are surely coming right now as we speak.”

He distributed a paper, written in elegant letters, among those present. “The proposal is simple. One army for all colonies: the Continental Army. The colonies must become their own country and defend themselves as such.”

“And who will manage that?” a voice asked. “This congress gave all colonies equal votes. Nobody decides something for everyone. That’s exactly what we’re fighting against! Each colony wants to be independent! You’ll never make us all accept a single commander.”

“Is that so?” Bardams pointed at Wasserbox. The general stood, wearing his uniform with all the possible medals, and studied the room confidently. “Also not the ape who single-handedly defended against Casbrita’s first attacks? An experienced general that even has books to his name?”

The attendees studied each other, but nobody really protested. Jefizon tentatively raised his hand.

“A vote. If three-quarters agrees, Wasserbox becomes first commander of the Continental Army, consistent of all soldiers from all colonies. All in favor, raise a paw.”

Wasserbox awaited the results with tension in his entire body. Even distrustful Ajay wasn’t sure he agreed with this. But when even he raised his paw, most of the room joined him. They had just enough yes-votes to accept the proposal. Soon after, many animals put there signature below some official piece of paper.

When Wasserbox left the room, he was commander of the entire Continental Army. And he felt he didn’t deserve it in the least, for he’d made blunder after blunder, causing too many deaths. The others might trust him; he didn’t trust himself.

Fuja hid within the bushes. Jefizon took the risk of hiding right next to her. The Children of Freedom looked at an imposing stone castle on a hill, called Fort Tondoga, owned by Casbrita. Ajay had heard that it was barely defended. Crucially, they’d save mountains of weapons and ammunition here, something the rebels desperately needed.

Taking the fort would be a large leap in the right direction.

Bardams hadn’t joined, as usual. Fracclin was sent on a different mission which he had to keep secret to everyone else. Ajay had reluctantly added ex-slave Pikan to this sensitive mission.

As was their ritual before a big fight, they all sipped some hot tea. Ajay had really insisted they do so this time, to calm the nerves and prevent suspicious mistakes. Jefizon just finished his, as Fuja threw away her glass, because the time had come.

“Now!” Ajay whispered.

The group erupted from the foliage and ran to the fort, still covered by darkness. The gate only held two guards, and one of them had falen asleep. Ajay shot them both down, with incredible precision, before they noticed anything.

“I should have used my bow and arrow,” Fuja hissed. “Now everyone heard the gunshot!”

“Mouth shut, follow my commands,” Ajay said. “We’re already inside thanks to me.”

Just as they walked through the gate, other sounds echoed in the night. Many footsteps and clanking metal. The sound of a hundred warm breaths against the freezing weather. They turned around and searched the horizons.

A battalion of soldiers marched for Fort Tondoga. Ajay’s face contorted and realized he lacked enough bullets now. Fuja readied her bow and arrow, but mostly prepared to run away.

Until the soldiers revealed their colors. They belonged to the colonies!

Ajay ran down the hill, leaving his team in an awkward spot around the gate. He met the commander of the battalion, some Bennie Arnold.

“You’re interrupting our mission to take over the fort,” Ajay said. “Continue walking to that other fort—”

“Wasserbox send us.”

“No he didn’t.”

Arrold showed a document proving his story. Ajay sighed and looked back at his team.

“We attack together,” he said. “But I lead the mission.”

“No, I will.”

“No, me.”

“I outrank you,” Arrold said. “What are you even? Don’t think you’re even a soldier.”

“Light is almost upon us,” a soldier said. “If we don’t attack now, we shouldn’t have come.”

Ajay grinned. “You let your soldiers talk to you like that? You are certainly not suited for—”

“We lead together. Come on! Move! Fast!”

With the safety of a hundred soldiers at their back, the team snuck deeper into Fort Tondoga. They found no guards at the entry hallway. Ajay’s information about the terrible defense of this fort seemed correct. They quickly found piles of modern cannons and cannonballs to steal without resistance.

Fuja felt light in her head, pains in her stomach. Jefizon and Pikan felt the same pains, but the rhino whispered that he attributed it to their upcoming victory.

They might have become overconfident. She and Jefizon ran ahead of the pack, looking for more weapons, when a heavy object hit the back of her head.

Everything turned black.

The bag was pulled off of Jefizon’s head. The room was gray and lit by only one candle in front of him. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious, but felt he was still inside the same fort.

“What is your name?” asked an animal who stayed in the darkness.

“Jefizon.” His voice wavered. He’d accepted that being a rebel might kill him one day. But being captured by the enemy instead seemed far worse. “I tell you nothing. Kill me then, my bad man.”

He hoped it sounded brave. His interrogator laughed and stepped closer.

“I have a proposal.”

“I won’t switch sides to join filthy Casbrita,” Jefizon said, fighting the ropes that bound him to the chair. “Not for any pro—”

“I gave this same proposal to your friends. That girl of yours, the strong leader, and so forth.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was lost in the fort and have no friends. I mean, what are friends? What is a fort? Can we first define that—”

“You have a choice: admit you’re a rebel and cooperate with us, or keep refusing and working against us. If you cooperate, we let you go. If you refuse, we can punish you by taking all your money and your estate, but the laws of Casbrita don’t allow more than that.”

Jefizon looked away. He loved his money and his home. But it felt like a minimal punishment to walk away alive and free.

“But …” His interrogator stepped closer, but remained a black silhouette in the shadows. His breath nearly blew out the candle. “If one of your friends cooperates, and you refuse, we can sentence you to death. If they claim you’re a rebel and enemy of the state, and proof you’ve lied to us, you will hang tomorrow.”

“What … what did the others I do not know say?”

Deadly silence. Of course they’d never tell him.

“Is there a third option?” he asked against better judgment. Even more silence.

Cooperation would be the highest treason. He could snitch on Ajay, but if Ajay had refused, then that meant killing his boss and friend. And Fuja? What would she have chosen?

Their best option was to all refuse. They’d all receive fines and light punishments, but otherwise go free. But were all of them strong enough? Only one of them needed to open his mouth and say the wrong things, and all the other rebels would hang from the gallows tomorrow.

And Pikan? How well did they even know him? Could they trust an ex-slave? Jefizon realized he was starting to see the reasons for Ajay’s distrust. A reason not to allow absolute freedom.

When the candle went out, all candle wax burned, Jefizon had to give his response.

Fuja screamed for help and growled at her abductors. They let it happen, until exhaustion made the native girl sink in her chair. These animals had all the time in the world, apparently. The room had no windows and only a single door, which gave her no indication about the time of day. Maybe she wasn’t even inside Fort Tondoga anymore.

She’d always had nightmares about waking up on a ship, sailing for Casbrita. She didn’t want to live among them. They’d look at her funny all day and call her a … freak, like Ajay did with his own friend Fracclin. While everyone else saw that Fracclin was just a normal, very kind person. He was just too clever for Ajay, yes, and that scared the stupid monkey.

As long as she still felt her native lands underneath her feet, she kept power and hope.

Until the interrogator gave her a dilemma. Refuse and they’d ban her from the colonies, returned to “her own folk” behind the mountains. Even though that was a completely different group of natives who didn’t know Fuja and would like reject or kill her. In the eyes of Casbrita, sure, all natives were the same.

Cooperate and snitch on her friends, and she’d go free. She’d even become an official citizen of Casbrita. But her friends who refused would all die.

She wouldn’t miss Ajay—but she would miss all the others. The thought of Jefizon receiving the same dilemma and now judging how much they loved each other …

She burst out in tears. Why was the world like this? Why couldn’t animals just live? Just exist? Without powerful idiots waging wars and taking away the freedom of others?

When the candle burned out, she’d have to give her response. But as soon as her bout of crying was over, she already knew the only possible answer.

Pikan had suffered abuse from strangers often enough. He looked at this abductors with a numb and mostly irritated expression. The rhino wasn’t placed on a chair, of course, just chained to the wall. He didn’t fight the ropes, because he happened to know the knot they used and that he could undo it. He just had to stall for time.

He received a dilemma. Refuse and he became a slave again. Cooperate and he’d go free.

But he received an extra tasty bite in the offer, just for him.

“We’ve heard how the Continental Army handles slaves,” the interrogator said. “They want you to fight for them. But when the fighting is over, they also want you to return to your plantations and become slaves again.”

He leaned forward, which allowed Pikan to see his nose but not his face. Did he recognize that nose?

“The colonies will never see you as equals, Pikan. However hard you fight for them, however many missions you do.”

“And so I must switch sides to the oppressors?”

“You have a choice. Cooperate with us, and we make you a high general in our army. You may form your own platoon of slaves, who, when the war is over, will all receive their freedom. Casbrita does care about you, Elwar does not.”

Pikan’s mouth became a line. He looked away, at the gray walls with crumbled stone. In other parts of the fort, footsteps sounded and heavy objects were being moved. Thanks to Benni Arrold they had been able to attack with a large group of soldiers, right? How could they have lost this hard?

Unless …

He leaned forward suddenly and pulled his interrogator into the candlelight with his horn.

It was Arrold himself.

He seemed not to care and bound Pikan even more tightly.

“What is your response?” Arrold asked.

Pikan knew there was no best solution. He could choose for himself, or for the group, that was the real choice. If he cooperated, he chose himself and doomed everyone who’d refused. If he refused, he chose the group but doomed himself and the rest of his entire life.

Ajay had always treated him like an inferior slave. Fuja was nice, but Jefizon also didn’t seem to love Pikan’s presence. Even Wasserbox, the moral crusador, owned slaves himself and wouldn’t mind if Pikan worked for him on his plantations. For as little pay as possible, of course.

But then you had Bardams and Fracclin. Good friends with the others. They trusted each other and had taken many good steps towards freedom. Without the Children of Freedom, the colonies might still be divided.

Could it be possible that someone achieved great things and still made terrible mistakes? Could it be possible to absolutely trust someone on certain matters, and completely distrust them on others?

“Can I receive official confirmation that Casbrita will treat slaves well and set them free? A letter by the king, signed?”

Arrold grinned and found exactly that piece of paper in a pile of them. Pikan had never learned to read their language, but it looked kingly. Stamp and everything.

He studied the paper for a while. His eyes watered, as if making it extra hard for him to make this decision.

The candle flickered, nearly extinguished. The door of the room opened, as if they wanted to immediately jump on the opportunity of Pikan spilling all rebel secrets.

What he had to say, however, still turned out to be a surprise.

“My real name is Beeris and I am the Demigod of Luck. I will cooperate if you fulfill your promise to take better care of the slaves and the poor, to only protect and not destroy, to be the good side in this war.”

He had freed himself. Arrold stumbled backward and ran from the room in fear.

Was that too much? Whatever. His Luckmagic would allow him to free the others before they were hurt. And then—

Arrold’s soldiers flooded the room. They overpowered him and threw another bag over his head.

“Let me go! I said I would cooperate! Didn’t you—”

His paws only felt empty air. Shortly after, he landed on a lower floor, and was lucky not to break any bones.

Jefizon was covered in cold sweat, left alone in his room. He heard Fuja scream, first from a distance, then closer and closer. Oh. Surely the good woman hadn’t cooperated? It sounded as if she walked through the fort. Or were they taking her to—

His door opened. The bag was lifted from his head again. Fuja’s warm arms wrapped around him and helped his shivering body upright, off the floor.

Ajay stood before him. Ajay? Unchained? Angry? No, wait, that was normal.

“Split up,” Ajay growled. Fuja didn’t listen.

“What … what is …” said Jefizon, disoriented.

“It was a trick,” Fuja said fuming. “It was all Ajay’s plan.”

Jefizon’s eyes widened. He closed the distance between him and Ajay, but stopped before hitting him.

“And? Did we pass your test? Or do you still doubt the loyalty of your best friends!?”

“You did great,” Ajay said calmly, as he walked away from Jefizon’s death stare. “Pikan, or Beeris apparently, failed. He wanted to cooperate with Casbrita. So I was right!”

Fuja covered her open mouth. “What did you do to him?”

“Asked soldiers to arrest him. But …” Ajay looked away, ashamed. “He’s still Demigod of Luck, so halfway they slipped and now Beeris ended up in some meadow and they can’t find him anymore.”

“You have,” Jefizon said, his anger barely contained. “Chased the god of luck away from your own army!? Was that your masterful plan, oh good man Ajay?”

“He is disloyal. He’d have given his luck to the enemy sooner or later.”

“We are done,” Jefizon said. “Fuja and I, we work for Wasserbox and Congress, not for you.”

“That is not your choice.”

“It should be,” Jefizon said, who instantly wrote down his thought. “Animals should have the right to choose their own work and also refuse it when their boss turns out to be insane.”

“Insane!?” Ajay slapped the paper from Jefizon’s fingers. “I have single-handedly led the colonies to revolution. Without my Children of Freedom, we’d all be Casbrita slaves by now!”

“Good deeds from the past,” Fuja said calmly, “do not rectity bad deeds in the present.”

Arrold entered the room with an empty paper in his hand. “We’re writing a message to Wasserbox about the events here. What must I say?”

“That Ajay’s great leadership allowed us to take over the fort with playful ease. None dead and no wounded on both sides. Except that Elwar soldier that stabbed himself with his stolen bayonet. Numerous weapons are ready for use.”

“I … my soldiers did most of the work, no? Without me, it wouldn’t have been this easy.”

“Don’t be so selfish, Arrold.” Ajay’s angry stare brought him to silence. He wrote the letter with most of the credit going to Ajay, and only a footnote about himself.

Fuja and Jefizon held each other tightly. They waited for Ajay, who blocked their exit, to step aside.

“Maybe you are loyal to Elwar,” he said. “But you’re blind not to realize how much your rebel boss has done for you. You will see that there are many animals worse than me, out there in the real world, who make more stupid decisions. You don’t actually want freedom.”

“The existence of worse beings,” Fuja said as she passed, “does not make you better.”

Jefizon also wrote that down.

Wasserbox was hunted all over Elwar. Casbrita had raised their military presence time and time again, with soldiers who were far stronger and far better trained than the rebels. Even the most clever of traps and strategies couldn’t overcome that gap.

Casbrita really only owned a single city: Bosnot. They concentrated their forces there, because they needed the city as a harbor to receive all their shipments. Their new soldiers arrived there, to be distributed over the colonies later.

Though they didn’t truly own another city, not even Philadinna, they did definitely control large swaths of Elwar now. Entire countrysides where Wasserbox had tried to stop them, but had to flee because they were badly losing.

This made Wasserbox lost in no man’s land, somewhere in the center of Elwar. Communication was chaotic and delayed, while aid was hard to give or receive.

“We must make Bosnot ours, for good,” Bardams said at the next Congress. “Cut off Casbrita’s import of soldiers.”

“Bosnot isn’t even our largest city anymore. New Bork is much more important.”

“Not now. Everything revolves around Bosnot for now.”

“And then?” asked a leader of the southern colonies. “If we have Bosnot, what then?”

Bardams considered this. He looked at Jefizon, who kept notes of everything that was said, which honestly led to ridiculous paper expenses in combination with the stamp tax.

“Then we declare ourselves independent.”

“That is … that is like a toddler declaring himself king. Nobody will take us seriously.”

“They will, if we prove they should.”

“It would be worth more if Casbrita declared us free and independent,” said another voice.

“Will never happen,” Fracclin said, back from his secret missions just in time to visit Congress. “We all know this. We must show we are stronger than Casbrita, then declare our independence, and hope most countries in the world believe and support us.”

Bardams nodded. “So long as most beings believe you are a real country … you will be a real country. Eventually, all country borders and kings in power are just made up.”

“We are not one country,” another stated. “We are thirteen colonies.”

“Then we declare independence of each individual colony. As if we’re thirteen different countries,” Bardams said.

Jefizon looked up from his book. “But that only works if the declaration is impressive. We shouldn’t just say we are free. We must explain our new laws and why they are the best.”

Many faces turned to him with a faint smile. Bardams spoke out loud what they all thought. “If you, Jefizon, would be so kind as to write this declaration?”

He froze. “Oh, my good men, how unexpected. It would be an incredible honor. In fact, I already finished half—”

“Present it to us when it’s done,” Bardams replied curtly.

And so Jefizon started work on his Declaration of Independence. A very long document in which he wrote down everything he’d learned and read in his entire life.

They had a chance. The chance to found a new nation were no royal family ruled. One that started with only reasonable and just laws. One where everyone was truly free and equal, as close to absolute freedom as they would ever get.

Though by now he saw that his vision was flawed. Some were simply unlucky to be born a slave, and some were unlucky to have weak bodies or minds. They should still have freedom, which meant restricting the freedom of others to conquer and colonize.

He wrote it all down. The explanations for why laws were good often felt silly. It was so obvious. Did he need to explain a female animal was equal to a male animal? Did he need to explain that every animal could be worth something to the world and had to receive the equal opportunity? Thus he often wrote down that he considered a truth “to be self-evident”.

Fuja slowly learned to read, mostly because she wanted to add her own voice too. Jefizon reminded her that all other Congressmen still had to read the document and approve too. All the privileges for natives that she added as a joke, were removed by Jefizon later.

Jefizon wrote for weeks, months, in his office at his estate. In his memoires, he’d always write down this part of his life as the very best period. Fuja who was always near him. Sipping endless cups of tea. Being able to write down his vision for an entire continent, with a large likelihood it became the law. They could create something big and beautiful. Would everyone see how beautiful it would be, like he did?

In the meantime, he thought about ways to win back Bosnot. The first stream of news from their capital was mixed. Wasserbox had received help from mysterious sources: crates filled with weapons and ammunition had washed up in the southern colonies. He’d used that to prevent being captured, but his army was too broken and weak to surround Bosnot.

In the harsh winter that followed, most of his soldiers died of cold and hunger. The enemy had no such trouble and partied in a well-stocked Bosnot or their warm forts.

Ever since Ajay chased Beeris away from them, their luck had truly run out. Rumors spread that Wasserbox was still secretly working for Casbrita, or that he’d lost all trust and belief in his own abilities.

Until a letter was delivered at his estate that contained a very clever plan.

Jefizon and Ajay met in a weird location. Both rode their horses, which Jefizon now felt uncomfortable with. He’d asked his horse if he wanted his freedom, but didn’t actually listen to the response or give that freedom, because, well, he needed his horse.

They found each other along the Ohoi river, but Jefizon rode to Bosnot, while Ajay rode away from it.

Jefizon waved and got off his horse. Ajay reluctantly did the same.

“The coming days will decide if Bosnot becomes ours or not,” Jefizon said. “One would think you wanted to fight with us.”

Ajay looked away. “I’ve been thinking. I’ve decided it’s impossible.”

“What?”

“Every living creature will always put their own survival first. To think it will ever be different is madness. Watch and see. As soon as the thirteen colonies are free, they will fight each other about who may rule them all.”

Jefizon frowned. “That is your conclusion after leading successful rebels for years? You had a native under your command! An ex-slave!”

“Yes, and you would choose your love for Fuja over Elwar,” Ajay said bitterly. “When it comes down to the write, you’ll drop your gun to save the girl. Because ego always comes first.”

He pointed at the horizon, which showed a hint of the coast. “And Fracclin? His secret missions was to convince the Frambozi to aid us in the war against Casbrita. But what did I hear? All that time, he’s just been partying and seducing women.”

Jefizon remained silent. He’d read the same books as Ajay. History was an endless cycle of civilizations that only thought about themselves. Kings who lived comfortable, and still wanted to conquer more and ruined everything in the process.

But Jefizon had his amazing decl—no, not even that.

“They ruined my incredible Declaration of Independence,” he said grimly. “They removed all my best paragraphs! The abolishing of slavery was removed, which made Fuja very sad, just because the southern colonies didn’t like it.”

“You’d have done the same,” Ajay said without emotion. “You have done the same, to me. As soon as someone tells you what you must do for the group, you track back and choose yourself.”

Jefizon climbed back on his horse, annoyed. “There are differences. Your rules and distrustful commands were nonsense.”

“I pointed all noses in the same direction! I was right to distrust some of you. Because now … now we are all spread out, and alone.”

“So you control. You command. You place a prison around every other animal because you’re more afraid they’ll surprise you than that you have to miss their brilliant ideas!”

“You will see,” Ajay said bitterly, as he climbed his own horse. “It would be a miracle if animals truly cooperated and truly gave each other absolute freedom. It would be a miracle if we actually win against Casbrita.”

Jefizon remained grumpy. “Miracles happen faster if animals don’t actively work against it.”

Ajay left, followed by a handful of slaves from his own estate. Jefizon just now realized how odd it was that Ajay agreed that slavery should be abolished, yet kept slaves all this time. He pretended it “was different”, but how?

Jefizon watched him long enough to realize he traveled towards Fort Tondoga, which was still in the possession of the Continental Army.

Then he finished his own journey towards Bosnot.

Once there, Wasserbox greeted him warmly, though with bags under his eyes. He received a uniform, a musket gun with a bayonet this time, and instructions. Fuja was already somewhere in the city.

The general was intense—and exhausted.

“We’ve blocked all ways out of the city. All the lines must hold. If so much as one hole is created … Casbrita can slip through and attack us all from the back, which is an instant loss. Remember: this is a siege, not an attack. Nobody is to accidentally fire a shot. We can’t win, not while Casbrita gets endless supplies of soldiers from overseas.”

He tapped the map to indicate a wide lane near the harbor.

“Jefizon, you must keep the lines shut here. You are now second lieutenant over a platoon of about twenty soldiers.”

“Lieutenant!? I’ve never achieved anything in the army.”

“We lack well-trained soldiers! Surely you’ve read about how to do things like this?”

Jefizon tapped the table anxiously. “Yes, yes, but theory is not practice.”

“This is my order,” Wasserbox said, after which he asked his highest general about the latest updates.

Jefizon heard things were looking bad. Their numbers weren’t terrible, especially with reinforcement from outside the city. But Casbrita controlled the well-defended city center. They also had better weapons, such as newly invented cannons, and an infinity supply of ammunition from the harbor.

Last winter had been a nearly fatal blow. Even inside the city, food had run out, as well as something to stoke fires and keep yourself warm. Many soldiers had died, many had fled. With summer on its way, however, hope was in the air.

Jefizon walked the streets. Every wall seemed peppered with bullet holes. Splintered objects and ragged uniforms were scattered over the cobblestones. With every step the sounds of gunfire and screaming generals grew louder—which meant they were already defying Wasserbox’ orders.

A bullet hit a roof nearby. Jefizon dodged the rain of wood and roof tiles that followed. He quickened his pace, until he smelled the salty harbor air and arrived at “his” platoon.

The soldiers looked up, unsure what to do. They blocked passage with their presence, but wouldn’t intimidate Casbrita any other way.

“What are you doing?” Jefizon said. “Form a line! Weapons pointed forward at all times.”

They scrambled to do so, though it was the most slanted line he’d ever seen. “Wasserbox has commanded me to hold the line at all costs. And—”

His eyes wandered. Further down the street, where the harbor started, another platoon fought. They couldn’t point their weapons at the enemy, because the other soldiers were in the way.

One of them was Fuja, who yelled and hit anything that came close.

“Fuja!” Jefizon yelled. He ran to her, but his own soldiers pulled him back.

“You just said we were to hold the line—”

“We move the line forwards!” he decided quickly.

His soldiers followed at his pace, guns forward. The mist coming from the water mixed with the smoke out of cannons, which removed Fuja from his vision. Several of his soldiers stumbled over the rubble on the street.

They reached the end of the street. They were several feet from the platoon that fought with Casbrita soldiers across the harbor.

He looked to the side. In the other narrow streets, the soldiers kept their line as commanded, but now looked confused. He didn’t understand why Wasserbox was so … passive, extremely careful. All the soldiers were placed far back in their street, far away from the action.

Jefizon yelled: “We push! Everyone move forward, until we surround Casbrita!”

The other lines started to move, step by step, to the end of their own street.

He stumbled forward, arms flailing. Fuja. Where was Fuja? He still heard her yell, but more softly. And why had they started this fight in the harbor alone?

Multiple gigantic Casbrita ships were docked at harbor. They seemed empty, their weapons and soldiers unloaded. But if all that—

A hail of gunfire descended on Jefizon and his platoon. Confused, he circled on the spot.

The roofs. Casbrita soldiers sat on the roofs! He pointed his gun and shot two of them down, surprised at his own ferocity. But the other soldiers could easily hide behind chimneys.

Jefizon understood why they should have stayed. Cannonballs launched from the ships, which flew just far enough to reach the end of every street that led to the harbor.

When he looked down, half his platoon was gone. Two more streets also had gaping holes in their defense.

“Fuja!”

The only response was a tick-tack of footsteps from all directions. Through the mist he spotted black shadows, wearing Casbrita uniforms, flooding the harbor. Whatever soldiers remained formed a single line to at least defend main street.

The other two streets had a gaping hole now. Hundreds of Casbrita soldiers ran through them with pleasure, eager to get behind the rebel soldiers.

Jefizon shook his head. Yes, theory was not practice. Yes, his love for Fuja could make him blind. No time to feel guilty.

He stumbled until he reached the wooden pier, almost falling into the water. He turned around and walked back into the chaos, but the street that he reached was clearly not owned by rebels anymore.

He bumped into two Casbrita soldiers. They pointed their guns. Jefizon knew it would be too slow, so he hit them in the head with the back of his own gun. They fell down unconscious.

Night fell. Through the chaos, Jefizon only saw ghosts. Vague silhouettes that seemed to teleport instead of walk, who didn’t talk but bellow some ancient language. Some were taken down along the way. Not by him, but by other Continental soldiers who fought around him, just as lost.

Eventually he could trace the large flood of soldiers back to one specific building. When nobody had left the building for a while, he took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The chaos disappeared, replaced by a well-lit room. At its center stood one calm creature, sipping tea: Beeris.

Wasserbox destroyed his table in anger. He had no idea what had happened, but they lost all control over the city center, and Casbrita had dealt a nearly fatal blow. This was exactly why it should have been a siege, not an attack!

After holding out for a week, he still had to flee to a new command center at the edge of the city. There, he received an odd message: Ajay was on his way to Bosnot.

And he had a hundred and fifty cannons with him, taken from the storages of Fort Tondoga.

“How … how will he ever get them here?” Wasserbox said in disbelief. “Through the snow? The terrible terrain? Cannons are heavy. Send … send soldiers to help him! Anything we can spare!”

He studied the map again. Where would the weapons go? Many innocent civilians still lived in Bosnot. But if they placed the cannons too far forward, they risked being discovered and destroyed before firing even once.

The harbor. That’s where all of Casbrita’s aid arrived, that’s where they were strongest.

He studied the surrounding area and found a high hill. If they were to place the cannons there, they could fire at the harbor, but Casbrita couldn’t fire back. Maybe the image alone would be enough to scare them!

But … what if they stormed that hill? If those weapons then fell back in the hands of Casbrita, the rebels had definitely lost. Could they defend such an all-out attack? They barely had any soldiers left inside the city.

This was going wrong. He was going to fail again. He barely trusted his mouth to speak the right commands, his fingers to point at the right sections of the map.

A second message arrived, from the mouth of a panting messenger.

“Jefizon lets us know that he found the Demigod of Luck again. He tries to convince the miracle worker to get on our side again.”

Wasserbox breathed a sigh of relief. He’d assumed his friend dead, after others reported he was in enemy territory a weak ago.

“Does he mention his chance of success?”

The messenger shook his head and departed.

The general paced through his new quarters. What to do? Could he trust Jefizon, place the cannons on the hill, and chase away Casbrita for good? Or should he play it safe and keep the cannons as a secret backup, in a place were they weren’t easily attacked?

Both were fine … but would mean a disaster if Jefizon made the other choice. If he placed the cannons on the hill, but Luck did not join their side. Or if he kept the cannons back, then it didn’t matter if Luck joined them or not, because they’d be useless in the fight.

Would Casbrita see through his bluff? He might be able to place the cannons with no intention of firing them. Too many of his own soldiers still fought in the harbor, including Jefizon.

Wasserbox looked around him. The men could not hold this any longer. Most didn’t even receive a salary—the rebels couldn’t pay it. They fought for honor and freedom, nothing else. The fact that they stayed all this time and fought valiantly, that was truly a miracle.

The other countries of Somnia had been put to sleep and blindly accepted a king or dictator. But in Elwar, they’d experienced what it was like to be inside a prison every second of every day—and that’s why they would never stop fighting for freedom.

Wasserbox made his decision.

Officially, Jefizon was a captive of Casbrita. But with the Demigod of Luck next to you, your handcuffs could, accidentally, somehow, be loosened. He did not feel intimidated, until a wolf general stormed the room in a fury.

“Come outside!” he screamed. “Look what the Continental Army has done! It’s horrible!”

General Howl was startled. He was the largest wolf and the highest commander of Casbrita. Their Wasserbox, in a sense.

He gathered all soldiers and followed the messenger. This included the guards, which meant Beeris and Jefizon were pushed along too. Howl also claimed Wasserbox’ honor would not permit him to do anything silly as long as they had a hostage with them.

Seeing all soldiers in one spot, Jefizon lost hope in their victory again. The rebels were vastly outnumbered. Beeris was reluctant to even talk to Jefizon, let alone consider switching sides.

It was pointless. He would not be able to stand more years of Casbrita brutality and oppression, and heavy taxation without representation. He wouldn’t survive, or rather, it wouldn’t be a life worth loving.

They ended up in the middle of the harbor, overlooking a high hill in the distance.

In one night, somehow, the Continental Army had been able to place a hundred cannons on that hill.

The Casbrita soldiers panicked.

“We must leave before they slaughter us!”

“They won’t,” Howl said, commanding them to stay calm. He grinned. “They can’t defend that hill, or they might be fakes. In any case, this is just an opportunity to steal them.”

He made a plan to storm the hill before afternoon. Perhaps ten or twenty Casbrita soldiers would die, but not all. They’d take those cannons and be able to defend Bosnot harbor indefinitely.

“This would be a good time,” Jefizon whispered to Beeris, “to pick the right side.”

“And I have made clear,” he whispered, “that a side that keeps slaves can never be the right one.”

“I’ve tried!” Jefizon nearly gave himself away by screaming. “But the entire idea of freedom is that others are also free to say things and make decisions. The majority wanted to keep slavery, so it stays, even if we become independent.”

Beeris just growled.

“You really think Casbrita is better?” Jefizon continued. “They have different stupid ideas. The only reason they abolished slavery is because they had no need for it anymore, because we’ve been kicking them from their plantations!”

Beeris groaned, throwing Jefizon on his strong back as if the monkey was no more than a bag of food.

His uncertainty about Fuja’s fate was killing him. Why did he allow her to fight? Why did she allow him to fight? Doesn’t she love him!?

“Freedom … absolute freedom doesn’t exist,” Jefizon said, shocked by his own conclusion. “Your freedom stops where the other being’s freedom starts.”

“So?”

“No freedom without prisons. We can’t be free until we’ve arrested all Casbrita soldiers. We can’t be safe unless criminals are put away. You can’t be free unless you pick a side that has rules to empower that freedom. I will put myself in a prison … if it means Fuja will never be in danger anymore.”

Jefizon studied Beeris’ eyes. “You are free now. Bardams gave you freedom. You must believe most animals are good, like he is, or it all ends. You now have the freedom to make the right choice.”

They arrived at the foot of the hill. A hundred soldiers, a confident general Howl at the front. The cannons were pointed at them, but as he predicted, they didn’t fire. The rebel soldiers meant to fire them, stood next to them stiffly, not even putting ammunition inside.

Howl grinned more widely.

“This was their final mistake! Elwar is ours!”

But when he took his first step, the weather shifted.

The blue skies turned gray. The warm summer weather became a rain shower, sometimes interrupted by flashes of lightning. It happened so suddenly that Jefizon only noticed once he was already soaked.

The troops tried to climb the hill, but the ground turned to quicksand, the dirt wet and slippery. Howl took big leaps forward, but furious gusts of wind pushed him off the path, refusing him any progress.

Jefizon heard cracking and squeaking. The largest Casbrita ship was struggling to stay upright in the sudden storm.

Howl had only made a few feet of progress on the hill, and now froze. None of his troops even got as far as he.

Beeris smiled.

“Ah, a classic,” he mumbled. “Unexpected storm.”

“You can’t choose what you do?” Jefizon asked.

“Of course not. I only bring bad or good luck. How that happens depends on … the universe or whatever.”

Howl took his weapon between his jaws: a gun made for quadrupeds to keep between their teeth. He could fire as much as he wanted, but all the bullets just “happened” to fly past Beeris and Jefizon as they fled.

They ran out of the storm, across the wet cobblestones of the harbor. Jefizon didn’t understand where Beeris was going, but het trusted him—and indeed, some time later they “happened” to find the other rebel soldiers stuck here. They had gathered in a well-defended street, around a campfire that struggled to keep burning in the storm.

Fuja and Jefizon flew into each other’s arms. The soldiers hugged Beeris and welcomed the Demigod of Luck back. A weight went off his shoulders. With Beeris in their midst, things would be alright.

A few streets onward, they encountered more of their troops. The line that was furthest forward. They were let back inside friendly territory. The event was immediately communicated to Wasserbox on the hill using signals. The soldiers ran to the cannons on the hill, but Jefizon and Fuja decided to stay behind.

Not long after, they heard Wasserbox bellow that Howl were to surrender and leave Elwar. Otherwise they would start firing. Wasserbox looked pale and stressed.

One stray shot. One soldier who couldn’t hold the trigger again, and the war would continue, the hill would be stormed anyway, regardless of the number of casualties. Jefizon and Fuja might die. His days as general definitely over.

Both sides waited in horrible uncertainty.

Howl threw down his weapons.

No accidental shot. No unfortunate blunder under Wasserbox’ watch again. Instead, he’d just saved them all.

Three days later, all Casbrita soldiers were sailing home.

As the soldiers partied all over Bosnot, the Continental Congress decided that this was the moment.

Bardams presented the final version of the Declaration of Independence. It had been accepted after a long, long discussion between all animals, as usual.

On the 4th of July, it was signed, after which copies were distributed all over the world.

When they did, Bardams told everyone they should now “hang together and see what happens”.

Fracclin responded: “We must, indeed, all hang together or, most assuredly, we shall all hang separately.”

Elwar had taken the risk and declared itself independent.

Casbrita obviously claimed that Elwar didn’t have the right to declare itself independent. The colonies were theirs and they’d let them know. Wasserbox moved the entire army in preparation, to New Bork, which was now their largest and most important city. If Casbrita attacked, it would be there.

Most of the world, however, did accept. Mostly because they still hated Casbrita because of earlier wars.

The largest among them was Frambozi. All that time, Fracclin had tried to convince the Frambozi king to support Elwar in the war. They were fine with secretly sending weapons and ammunition, but never officially declared their support. Not while they weren’t sure that Elwar would actually win.

And Casbrita was certain they wouldn’t win. All the colonies were located on the coast and received most of their goods from ships. And what did the Continental Army lack? Ships. Casbrita had the most powerful fleet in the world and the rebels merely had some rafts. The Parliament laughed at them and predicted the colonies would be theirs again in a few years.

The war wasn’t over. No, it had only just started.

Jefizon walked with Beeris over his estate. He’d just shown his enormous library to him, while failing to reveal how broke he’d become from all those purchases. The salary he’d received for writing the Declaration had been completely spent on designing his own dream home.

He’d also started writing his own version of Le Bjib, the holy book of Krystanism, without all the miracles and with only the “good parts”. To him, Yesis Kryst was not a messiah but a philosopher worth studying.

Fuja painted beautiful flags and hung them on every wall she could find. To celebrate their independence, partially thanks to Jefizon’s powerful writing.

Elwar held these ideas to be self-evident. The rest of the world—where each country was still ruled by strict kings or mad dictators—laughed at them for the entire idea of freedom and independence.

“I own one very odd book,” Jefizon said. “I suspect it might have belonged to the godchildren. It almost seems magical. It contains probably the entire history of Somnia up to this point!”

“That sounds like the Book of Meaning,” Beeris said. “My mother used to talk about it, when she was still …”

Jefizon placed one hand on Beeris’ back, the other holding a cup of tea.

“What the world did to the godchildren is horrible. Mostly, though, I noticed just how unlucky they were. The victors in war are usually not the best or strongest. No, it’s those who had the most luck. Those for whom events went just the right way.”

Jefizon looked at the rhino, puzzled. “Though I do wonder, my good man, why you did not help your parents? Or how you ever became a slave? That sounds … more than unfortunate.”

“I was too young, too unsure in my power, to help my parents survive that war. And I am Demigod of Luck, not Demigod of Total Control. I couldn’t prevent becoming a slave—I did influence fortune just enough to become a well-treated slave of a kind man called Bardams.”

Beeris looked out at the beautifully designed gardens. Jefizon had released all his slaves and horses, though some had voluntarily returned as a paid employee. Elwar was a beautiful land, now supported by beautiful—though imperfect—laws.

“You have no idea how close the world has come, time and time again, to a devilish leader who’d bring us all to ruin. The Amorian Empire? Ottojon? One fewer storm, one unfortunate decision, and those empires might have ruled all of Somnia now.”

Jefizon froze. “But, wait, aren’t you thousands of years old then?”

“Yes.” He shrugged. “Lucky with my genes, right?”

He waved at Fuja, who seemed happier than ever, despite having less freedom than before. Fuja and Jefizon had agreed to not jump into battles or war ever again. To always confer with each other first, to let each other know when they left the estate, to be selective in who they trusted and how they lived for their own safety. The conversation hadn’t been long—both agreed they wanted this immediately.

“Take good care of each other. I wish you two the best of luck.”

The Demigod of Luck walked away.

The Children of Freedom had to be reformed, including Ajay who was called a hero for delivering the cannons. This time, though, it would not be a select group of rebels, no rich young man in a café dreaming of freedom, but a part of a greater whole: the Continental Army that fought for all three colonies.

That Casbrita would attack in full force now, that was a certainty.

And so it was that life continued …