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Synopsis:
The faraway kingdom of Decatus has been amassing black powder for the creation of a mysterious superweapon known as the Titanblade. It is up to the Ochreds - a team of men and women picked by the king of Fortis Friar to act as his personal task force - to unravel Decatus' schemes. As they brave a world full of bandits, killers and giant creatures known as Colossi, the Ochreds will begin to realize that there is a blurred line between man and monster.
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“There are few symbols and items that are recognized across all lands. The Mark of the King, woven with the finest and the toughest of silk, is one example. Other emblems - belonging to various guilds and other units within settlements - range in terms of renown, with Illujio’s debatably being the most distinct. The Vumos’ brilliant feather headpieces are also unmistakable, though they are often an ominous sight for travellers. The most interesting item, however, is the Skull of Rebirth. Many know that it is earned only by those who have proven their commitment to redemption, but many also remain skeptical of skull-bearers. We live in a world where second chances often stab us in the dark.”

- excerpt from Relics of Our Time, written by Finnick Risengal of Fortis Friar

“A most horrid idea, Hale. Horrid! It will mar the nature of our quest. I see no merits in such a course.”

“And yet, you must admit that the King is fond of such endeavours,” Hale reminded Tagert. Tried as she might to keep her tone soft and neutral, Tagert was growing increasingly agitated in their discussion - the last thing she needed was for King Donovian, still inside the guest hall, to hear Tagert ranting from the outside.

“I most certainly hope this thought refrains from crossing his mind.”

“You know him better I do, Tagert. So tell us just how likely our King will seek this resolution.”

“The night of the Colossi scars the king’s mind to this day - all the more he would not dare let Wavemaker walk another four feet from where he is shackled! Has King Donovian not shared with you his reflections of that fateful night, Hale?”

“No.”

“I thought he did to every Ochred. How did your initiation proceed?”

“I rather not talk about that now-”

“Hark! They are laughing together!” hissed Edward, who had his ear pressed against the double doors that led into the guest lounge. Finnick and Japhet were similarly crowded around the crack between the doors, eager to catch the slightest whispers that escaped from within. Initially, the Queen had been present to stand guard, but Fortis Friar was crying for solace. The news of the Colossal’s return had induced a state of panic in the kingdom: a panic which could only be soothed by the Queen’s charisma and calm.

“So much for privacy,” muttered Hale, as Tagert left her to join Edward in catching hints of what King Donovian was discussing with Kurtis.

“Don’t mind them, Hale,” smiled Maria - one of the few Ochreds who continued waiting a good distance away from the lounge. Her husband, Bartlet, remained by her side as well, quietly amused by the sight of Tagert trying to squeeze out a spot by the doors. The Cobins, however, made no attempt to drag the younger Ochreds away. They knew that it was near impossible to discern any piece of conversation beyond the thick doors - they too had once tried eavesdropping at some point in their earlier years serving the royal family.

“It has grown rather quiet. They are speaking in murmurs,” Edward commented, cueing the Ochreds to squeeze closer to the doors. It was only after a few minutes did they hear movement from inside the room, and the Ochreds realized that it was the sound of King Donovian vacating his seat.

“Away!”

The doors opened just as the Ochreds swarmed around the Cobins and pretended to be deep in discussion. King Donovian emerged looking quaintly content with himself, and he motioned for the Ochreds to gather as soon as they noticed him.

“Here, where is my Queen?”

“She is speaking to the people, my lord,” answered Bartlet, “Fortis Friar was most restless in your absence”

“I really mustn't let her do all the hard work - I will join Odessa in her address shortly. Before that, let me fill the rest of you in. As strange as it may sound, Kurtis the Wavemaker is of no harm to us – he is present before us today as more of a helping hand than as a threat. Let him join you in your preparations for tomorrow, and for the mission itself. He has agreed to comply with all your commands, and to be at your service until the very end.”

“I warned you,” Hale whispered to Tagert, who immediately moved to object.

“My liege, you are a most merciful and forgiving king, but having a Colossal in our midst is a horrible idea - especially Kurtis! Why, was he not trying to fight us all just an hour ago? The Wavemaker is an omen, a destroyer of cities and a devourer of souls! That snake was trying to assassinate you on the Day of-”

“He knew not of the occasion beforehand, and he was merely nervous about meeting us. Kurtis sought Fortis Friar to apologize and make remands. ”

“...and you believe him, sir? His word over Hale’s?”

“I doubt he fought for the Skull of Rebirth just to lie, Tagert. See for yourself - he bears a genuine one.”

“So it was real…” Finnick said to himself in astonishment. The other Ochreds tried to mask their surprises to varying degrees of success.

“Well-” Tagert paused as he tried to conjure a postulation: “perhaps his lust for revenge was so strong, it drove him to… fake his right to a Skull.”

The king laughed: “oh Tagert, you should listen to yourself. Do you even know whence the Skull comes from?”

“Aye, the Dius Lazlos-”

“Then you should know it was not bought at some marketplace for a silver piece or two. A peculiar history has wedged itself between Kurtis’ reign of terror and the present. As men and women of experiences, I believe all of you should work to understand him better, as you had done so among yourselves. His deeds are incomparable to what sins all of us might have committed in sum, but he has also paid the heftiest of prices for his mistakes. He has fallen greatly, but willingly too.”

Through her peripheral vision, Hale caught Tagert looking to her for support, but she said nothing and continued looking towards the king. Hale knew that King Donovian was by no means seeking approval or opinions regarding his choice, for it was already decided. She personally detested the idea just as much as Tagert did, but was more focused on finding ways to work around it once they had actually set off for Decatus the following day.

“If nothing else, I will take my leave,” announced King Donovian, “after the address, I will be at the high table until dinner if you need me. Oh and Tagert, please unshackle Kurtis. All of you should start being comfortable in his presence, as difficult as it might seem. Get him ready for the journey you are all about to embark on.”

“My king, do you trust him so much to roam this palace, or even this kingdom, freely?”

“Not as much as you will, aye?” King Donovian gave Tagert a wink and a slight grin before hobbling off. His disposition subtly hinted to them that he wished to be alone. The Ochreds stood around for a while, unsure of what to do until they saw Tagert head for the guest lounge first.

“Come! Surely you must all wish to see the monster?” he asked sarcastically.

Kurtis had his skull back on when the Ochreds walked into the room, and the mask of sorts helped hide the Colossal’s fear of the entourage. Unlike his first encounter with all eight of them earlier, Kurtis was now seeing them with a clearer mind – one that was a little more receptive and not inhibited by blind panic. Still, he was at the mercy of eight pairs of judging eyes that watched his slightest twitches, eager to read beyond what he had to say. Their collective seriousness made the atmosphere stifling, and Kurtis was beginning to feel pangs of regret for agreeing to be in their company.

“Lucky is he who puts a kingdom to the ground, but faces no consequence!” Tagert began, smiling at Kurtis as he unlocked the shackles, “Greetings. I am Tagert Horison, Ochred leader.”

“I will be at your service-”

“You destroyed three generations’ worth of legacies with my family’s home, but I am confident we can reconcile somehow, yes? I will be certain to let you know once you have served us enough to warrant forgiveness.”

As the last padlock came loose, Kurtis wordlessly freed himself from his chair and met Tagert’s glare. The Colossal was struck by King Donovian’s flawless description of the man’s character; the king had told him that Tagert was, among other things, comparable to a cannon with the shortest fuse in the kingdom.

Seeing that no one else was willing, Bartlet stepped forward with his wife and extended his hand.

“I am Bartlet Cobin, and this is my wife, Maria. The two of us serve as advisors for the Ochreds. We look forward to having you join us, Kurtis. What I would like to know now, however, is why you walk among us in that form. Have the skies become too stale?”

Kuris was momentarily stunned by Bartlet’s genuine friendliness and professionalism. Even as she remained silent, Maria palpably shared her husband’s warmth.

“Aha, no. The arrow lodged in my tail forbids me from roaming around as a Colossal.”

“And you have not tried to remove it?”

“Nay, sir.”

“What are your skills, Wavemaker?” Maria asked next.

“I, uh, know some navigation and tracking. A little on medicinal herbs and foraging.”

“Did the Dius Lazlos teach you?”

“Aye, ma’am.”

“Most interesting. And your combat skills - also from the tribe?”

“Aye. One of the tribesman used to train shock troops in Decatus.”

“The Dius Lazlos really does attract a multitude of talents; perhaps we can talk about that in another time.” Maria glanced towards the Risengals, who were unfortunately positioned right next to her and thus silently pressured to maintain the momentum.

“I am Finnick Risengal! Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” said an excited Finnick. His right hand fumbled about for a handshake.

“Call me Japhet. Finnick is my brother,” said Japhet, who seemed to be trying a hand at cold, distant introductions. Kurtis could not tell if she was scared, indifferent or condescending.

“The Weavers,” Kurtis acknowledged the twins with a bow of his head. Due to the nature of their powers, this sibling duo stuck out to him the most when the king had given him a brief overview of the Ochreds involved; while Japhet was capable of weaving sunlight into tangible blades, Finnick was said to be able to create “voids of space” that pulled all matter into its epicenter. Kurtis then turned his attention to the Lugos next, feeling somewhat relieved to angle himself further away from Tagert.

“I am Edmund Lugo, this is my brother Edward.”

“Sorry about what happened earlier…” Kurtis winced underneath his skull mask as he noticed that they were the only two Ochreds with obvious bruises on their faces.

“I will be ever-ready for a rematch, Colossal,” Edmund replied jokingly. Edward, however, still seemed to be harbouring a grudge underneath.

Finally, Kurtis met eye to eye with the Ochred he was most curious about.

“Hale,” she said flatly, and invited no further words into the introduction. She quickly became distracted by a small commotion outside and began heading for the exit.

“The King’s making his speech. I’ll tend to him,”said Hale to no one in particular as she left.

“As shall I,” Tagert announced curtly before following Hale out of the lounge. In the distance, Kurtis could hear him unleash a torrent of furious whispers to Hale after catching up to her.

“Well, everyone is entitled to do what they please for the rest of the day,” said Bartlet, turning to the Lugos and the Risengals, “as King Donovian said, we will just reconvene at dinner. Maria and I will be finalizing our wagon supplies, down by the east stables.”

“Take me with you,” requested Kurtis, “it is best I familiarize myself with whatever we are bringing with us.”

“Please, do come along.”

“We will be in the library,” Finnick gestured toward his sister and himself.

“You will be in the library,” Japhet corrected her brother, “there are still festivities I want to attend.”

“Japhet, you promised-”

“You have my booklist, Finnick. If you obtain them all as requested, I will prepare for you your very own package of treats.”

“Edward and I would like to enjoy the festivities a little while longer as well,” Edmund quipped, unless we can be of assistance, Mr. Cobin?”

“Nay, relish in your youth! We do not have too much work left ahead of us. Until dinner then!” Bartlet motioned for Kurtis to follow him, “whatever endeavours, waste not a single minute in Fortis Friar. We are half a day away from a great journey.”

___
“Our great King is benevolent, compassionate and virtuous. He is close to his people and we recognize his undying commitment to Fortis Friar. That is why this incident confuses me so – why did King Donovian suddenly discharge all his Ochreds at once? We were told that they had become redundant in this time of peace. The people of Fortis Friar were none the wiser - as blissfully oblivious as we can be until rumours found their way from Decatus to our kingdom. What happened to the Ochreds? What peril lay beyond our walls, if there was any?”

- excerpt from a letter written by Segen Hilde, a peasant in Fortis Friar. Addressed to his brother in Lumen Falls

Silence. Darkness. Coldness. Skin-piercing coldness. Kurtis struggled briefly and the murkiness parted ever so slightly to reveal a sliver of moonlight. The silence persevered, but Kurtis could start to make out the muffled cries of various nocturnal creatures. Then came suffocation. A feeling of hopelessness. Something hits Kurtis sharply in the spine, forcing him to jolt upward and finally break the surface.

A powerful river was dragging Kurtis through its course and he was powerless to its pull. He was still disoriented and in severe pain. At most, Kurtis could manage a pathetic flail of the arms in an attempt to keep his head above the water. It did not take long for him to accept his fate. This was how he was to die: a slow, ungraceful death following his best companion’s own miserable demise.

Kurtis was completely unprepared for when the current flung him into a cluster of rocks. He felt his right leg go numb, and sharp pains ran up both of his arms. Though he no longer cared about himself, Kurtis still instinctively let out a shriek of pain. Now, he was an unmoving flotsam letting the waters decide his final resting spot.

Fortunately for him, the Colossal somehow ended up flowing into one of the gentler side streams. Kurtis was eventually washed up by the side of a muddy bank, bloodied and immobile. He was barely alive, and could not resist the hands that reached out for his body. It was too dark for Kurtis to identify his mysterious saviours, or captors; he was not in any state to make the effort to find out either. He simply let himself be hoisted out of the waters as he slipped away into unconsciousness.

With a swift gesture of his arm, Chieftain Zuul wordlessly ordered the tribesmen to carry Kurtis deeper into the jungle. Only one of them remained by his side – a timorous woman in her forties that was dwarfed by Zuul’s stature and bulk. She appeared emotionally distraught and exhausted, with reddened cheeks and wet eyes still coated with tears.

“You recognize him,” Zuul said in a deep and low voice.

“It is unmistakable. That being is none other than the Wavemaker.”

“Then you must know what I am about to ask of you, Vera.”

“I do, but I fear failure. I fear that it may end in blood, be it mine or his. To touch the same flesh that have trampled upon families and their homes – the prospect makes me so very sickly.”

“You are a promising woman of the Dius Lazlos, Vera. After all that you have suffered and overcame… this is where you are to truly test yourself. I see only one end to this path you are about to take…”

Zuul laid a hand on Vera and gazed intently into her nervous eyes:

“Do you trust in yourself as much as we trust in you, Vera Herkel?”

...

A little light was all it took to wake Kurtis from his slumber – a shaft of pale rays from the soft, early morning sun still hidden in the clouds. The light had crept into the wagon through the slit opening in the canvas, which happened to align with Kurtis’ eyes. The Colossal had been wedged between water barrels to his left and crates of food to the right, with only his coat as a blanket and his satchel as a makeshift pillow. He did not particularly mind, however, as this was the most comfortable he had been in quite some time.

Hungry for breakfast, Kurtis exited the wagon to see Finnick already in the stables. The young Ochred was coolly sitting on a dense stack of hay, concentrating on a thick, leather-bound book. Kurtis also noticed that he was carrying the same sling bag from the day before, albeit it seemed twice as full.

“You are oddly early,” Kurtis commented as he made his way towards a crate containing spare fruits. Upon noticing Kurtis, Finnick eagerly tucked his book away and approached the Colossal.

“Indeed I am, and with purpose! I hope you understand, but I am awfully curious about you.”

Fishing out an apple, Kurtis decided to play along: “I was told you were a scholar. What is your study?”

“Formerly, weaving of gravitas, or the pulling force. That is what I can weave – I can create wells of suction, if you will. I can also make you feel as light as a feather, or as if a mountain was upon your shoulders.”

“You harness a great power.”

“I’m flattered, Wavemaker - thank you, but it is the mind that harnesses the greatest powers! Once I mastered my craft, I studied relics and remnants in Winterfell before continuing the same subject matter in Fortis Friar. My research helped me gain the king’s attention, yes, but then I found it much too boring. When I learned of Fortis Friar’s rich history with Colossi, I helped myself to all that the kingdom’s libraries held about the beasts…”

“I see where you are going with this.”

“Aye. I believe I am the first scholar to freely converse with a Colossal, and I cannot let such an opportunity go to waste! Pardon my jollity; I know not where to start with you, Wavemaker. I never thought this day would come - but I did ready a brand new notebook just for you! Whence you came by the Skull? Ever since that night, was your desire for reform innate? And before that, who was Lubeck, the Hellfire Wyvern, to you?”

“I rather you not ask about Lubeck,” said Kurtis, noisily crunching down on his apple.

“Apologies - I will watch my words. Allow me to start over: could you tell me how you were conceived into the world?”

“I am afraid I cannot help you much in that matter. In truth, I cannot recall the slightest details of my origins. I was not birthed from a mother’s womb, nor did I hatch from an egg - that much, I am certain. My earliest memory is… being chased out of a village as a young and hungry wyvern, when I was no larger than a horse.”

“No larger than a horse! Ha! Impeccable!” a gleeful Finnick started furiously jotting down on a small, palm-sized notebook, “how early is this memory? And why the two forms of existence?”

“That would be at least a decade ago-”

“Finnick!”

The young Ochred jumped at the sound of his sister calling his name, and almost dropped his writing materials. An exasperated Japhet came storming into the stables with a large haversack over her shoulders; her glare was enough to petrify Finnick in his spot.

“Finnick! Your vanishing act had me worried! You never wake at this early an hour - why did you not inform me of your plans?”

“You looked tired last night, Japhet. I did not want you getting lesser rest. I am sorry for keeping you in the dark, but I was hoping to catch Wavemaker before the rest arrived.”

Japhet only seemed to acknowledge Kurtis then, and though their eyes met, she said nothing. For the time being, she was still fixated on her brother.

“Did you bring all that you need? You cannot possibly have fit it all into that one bag.”

“This bag has only my books and the festival treats you got for me. I packed everything else into the wagon, Japhet, while you were with Miss Farrow and Mrs Cobin last night. May I ask what matter you spoke of with the two of them?”

“I was seeking much-needed counsel. Are you not nervous, Finnick?”

“Of course I am. Hence I indulge in means to distract myself. Are you nervous, Wavemaker?”

“Please call me Kurtis,” the Colossal replied, “I am accustomed to being hunted wherever I go, so I would like to think I am not entirely unprepared. Mr and Mrs Cobin taught me some of your combined tactics too.”

“I hope you do not expect us to come to your aid whenever vendettas are exacted upon you,” Japhet said coldly, “I suggest you lie low within our ranks, lest you burden us with unnecessary conflicts.”

“You will not be a burden, will you Colossal?” Tagert suddenly asked from the edge of the stable. Behind him were the rest of the Ochreds, looking just slightly groggy but no less determined to take the first steps towards Decatus. Even now, the look that Tagert gave Kurtis was just as contemptuous as when they had first met.

“I will present myself only if you call for it,” Kurtis told Tagert, watching his tone so as to sound more obedient than snarky, “unless you have other plans for me.”

“Not at all. I like your current stance - most sensible,” Tagert gave Kurtis a slap on the shoulder and addressed the Ochreds: “Saddle up, folks! We must leave now, before the kingdom stirs. We will ride until sunset, and hopefully arrive at the edge of Gallenvast by then. Wavemaker, take the wagon with the Risengals - stay inside like you promised.”

Kurtis watched as Tagert, Hale and the Lugos mounted their horses, while the Cobins had a starkly different kind of ride. Maria and Bartlet had their very own warhounds: large, grey-furred beasts that shared the characteristics of both a bear and a wolf. They were creatures tamed and bred purely for combat, able to manoeuvre speedily in battle and shrug off any projectiles hurled their way. Knowing that warhounds typically lacked stamina and endurance, Kurtis reckoned that the Cobins must have intensely trained theirs for the arduous quest they were about to embark on.

“Join Finnick in the back,” Japhet instructed Kurtis as she took the reins from the front of the wagon, “do inform me if my chatterbox of a brother bothers you with his ceaseless questions.”

“I am well within earshot, mind you,” Finnick sneered from within the covered wagon. His bright facial expression, however, made it obvious that he was eager to have Kurtis in his company. Admittedly, Kurtis found himself comfortable with Finnick; his undying curiosity was endearing, and Kurtis found it strangely therapeutic to have someone be so interested in the details of his existence.

And so the Ochred convoy finally set off for Decatus. Not a soul in the kingdom of Fortis Friar caught a glimpse of their departure, except the gate guards who only glazed their sleepy eyes over the group of cloaked figures. The Ochreds had left silently, without light chatter, prayer or encouragements; a solemn start to a mission unlike any other.