Chapter 200: The Scars

Viv knew there was no way the Red Tribe would dust itself off and return to normal within a couple of days, but the extent of the total collapse that followed victory surprised even her. It wasn’t that they hated her decision either. It was just that it was over. Finally. After so long.

As soon as the army got back and the news of peace and the destruction of the fortress spread, the entire tribe descended into an immense and spontaneous party of biblical proportions. Everything that had been saved for a special occasion got broken open and drunk without reserve. Those that were not boozing themselves silly were either crying or fucking. It wasn’t fun either. Viv was called as witness for no less than four ritual suicides: kark who had kept living for the tribe but had decided long ago to cash out, usually because they’d lost everyone else. No amount of arguments could convince them to even delay their choice. They wanted out, and it was going to happen. It wasn’t just them either losing their reason to live. All the tension, all the determination that had carried the tribe through its darkest time came crumbling down like a sand castle. In only a few days, the main encampment turned into a mess of squalor and drunk people. Even Marruk’s own soldiers were wildly going at it. As for the girl herself, she was spending all her time comforting her father and relatives. It was a mess. Faced with such a daunting situation, Viv could do nothing but pray.

***

“They’re just all so sad!” Viv said. “I’m not sure what to do. I can’t just fix generational trauma with magic, can I? I’m not a therapist either. I mean, if I know someone well I can help, but an entire tribe?”

She reached for the illusory cup of coffee in front of her for a comforting sip. Neriad’s glasshouse had the cozy warmth of a summer morning with lianas clinging to the panes, bearing pleasant yellow flowers. The righteous god’s furniture was arched and delicate in a way that reminded her of Art Nouveau, a school that drew its shapes from nature.

On the third chair, Efestar nodded. He conjured a beer, which he’d come to love after Viv had shared her memories.

“People do not deal with grief the same way. Salvation may not be freely distributed for few can agree on what salvation even is, though the two of us can probably offer some succor.”

The gods were huge compared to Viv, mostly because they were all currently in the in-between and using their powers to build some sort of evanescent space. She still managed a decent size through the sheer might of her massive ego.

“Efestar is right. You may not face this challenge in the same way you have faced the others before. It will require time. Raise statues to us so that we may look upon the kark.”

“They worship their ancestors though.”

“And we will not stop them, but their ancestors are, well, dead. They are memories. We are living souls. Our impact is greater.”

“Alright.”

***

The empty spot right outside of the encampment was promising, not least because it wasn’t sacred ancestral land and Viv was currently introducing foreign, human gods to a people that had been oppressed by humans. She requested Frosthawk’s help to dig up the stones required for the statues. It took some time because the mage was an air specialist and he didn’t like brown mana very much. Arthur could have conjured it in a couple of seconds, of course. Unfortunately, she categorically refused to participate in statue making for the sake of worship unless she was the one being worshiped.

Viv patiently carved and modified the rocks using black mana to cut and change the shapes. It proved to be long and laborious despite having an extremely clear memory of various statues. The reason was simple: she had no talent for art.

Even using high stats and the polymath skill made this long and difficult. Viv liked it though. Carving proved to be very relaxing.

When she was done, she’d amassed a small number of kark who chilled in the grass wondering what she was up to. No one had tried to stop her.

Once done, she slapped her hands together. It was time to pray.

“I can’t believe I’m bringing people to church. My French ancestors would be ashamed. Anyway. Oh, Neriad, Efestar, brothers of hope and redemption, I pray to you. Please come and bring solace to those who have faced the worst and come through scarred. Help them on the path to recovery. Glory to you etc etc.”

“YOU COULD AT LEAST TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY.”

“You’re right, my bad. It’s important. You’re good people and they need good people now more than ever. And time to deal. Please assist.”

Sending an ungodly (haha) amount of mana into the statues, Viv consecrated them to the best of her abilities. Whispers rose at the edge of her hearing, words in kark yet she could perceive their meaning. Yes, it was over. Yes, it would get better. No, it would never be completely fine. The grief would return and overwhelm them with memories of the lost, of what could have been, but then it would leave them again like the tide. There would be other things to look forward to. New purposes to fill. Children would grow up not remembering the pain, and their laughter would fill the air in joyous chimes. It wasn’t over yet. In fact, it was a new beginning.

Those who had stayed behind to look at the statues cried, then they left to speak to their own. A revolving group of kark came and went over several days, smelling sour and looking dazed, but leaving with a fragile determination to try. The Red Tribe shook itself from its stupor over the following week for a relative return to normal. After a brief discussion, the clans decided they would head back to their own roaming grounds, but first, they had to plan for the future.

***

“We have a business proposition,” Marruk said from the top of the flat stone.

Around them, the tribe elders had gathered for the important meeting. Herd masters, teachers, lead artisans and merchants outnumbered the warriors because the Red Tribe was at peace, and so the peace people had come to talk.

Arthur landed at the edge of the stone before Marruk could elaborate.

Did I hear the magic words?

“We also want to do business with you as well,” Marruk continued. “Our problem is how?”

She was right. The Red Tribe had no access to the sea to the north, or the Shal river far to the south with its teleporting network. West of here was the rest of the steppes, a relatively hostile place, while Luten stood to the east.

“You may want to negotiate. Maybe the Shore Tribe? New Harrak has ships now.”

“Yes.”

At this point, the warriors returned to quiet discussions while the merchants came forward. They were incredibly eager to get back to peddling more than weapons and war gear. Much had been lost, but through careful practice, the kark of the Red Tribe had most of their know-how, and that was what they were selling right now. Apprentices brought some impressive potteries and cloths weaved from cotton with bone needles. This world hadn’t invented the loom yet and Viv could see why: because of stats, it was barely needed. The kark didn’t have the goods yet, but they were able to make them provided there were orders.

The Shore Tribe was contacted and they agreed to a meeting, which Marruk assured meant there would be an agreement to set up a port on their land. Viv thought the lack of certainty on tax and tariff would put their own negotiations on standby, but that was underestimating the merchants. Percentages and flat rates were discussed while taking into account the Shore’s share. What really impressed Viv was that they did all of this with no paper. At most, they used an abacus for the most complicated math, but for the rest, they relied on their memories. Only the final agreement itself was drawn on a papyrus after both sides agreed to the terms.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“It went faster than I expected,” Viv said.

“Kark merchants make a sport of negotiations, and it is glorious to get a really good deal,” Marruk informed her. “I told them not to try it this time and they thought I was insulting them. They said they would never fleece you, because you are a friend of the tribe. It is a great honor!”

She flushed.

“It would be a great honor if you were not the leader of a great nation. A greater nation…”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Remember that we were fugitives hiding in abandoned mines not so long ago. I sure as hell remember. Anyway, all the terms offered made sense and they were really fair. It was a welcome change from attending tariff negotiations with the Baranese.”

Marruk shivered with sympathy.

“The goods will travel. The central tribes have been starved of human goods for ten years. Entire clans have been ruined because they couldn’t sell to the northern cities. My people will embrace this opportunity. Do not worry.”

“Sure.”

Viv gave the signed paper to Frosthawk for safekeeping. The old bastard couldn’t believe Viv had bagged a favorable trade agreement without the help of Lady Azar.

“You realize I was running this place before she showed up, right? Just because my greatest achievements have all ended with something or someone dead doesn’t mean that I’m bad at peaceful talks. I made us buddies with Enoria after declaring independence from them for Neriad’s sake,” Viv complained