Best Enemies
    ~A Ryzom Story

It was a quiet day, and none of the Argo Navis had expected to see much action. It had rained earlier that morning, a fine drizzle wetting the parched earth, drawing forth a fine mist from the very Roots themselves to grace the woods of Matia. Dew clung to the grass and shimmered on the great tree houses of Yrkanis, glimmering like gems in the early light. On such a morning only Nuvad could have ridden off on patrol; even when the land lay as still and as calm as a glassy lake, the guild’s ever so vigilant leader had insisted on taking his mektoub out along his usual route to check for the presence of bandits, or worse: Kamists.

The rest of them had remained inside the Guild Hall: an elaborate Matisian building, complete with varnished walls and floor, covered in a natural carpet of moss. Luminous magic shimmered in their sconces alongside painted drapes and glittering insect wings, casting blue highlights across the Homins assembled in the living room. They were all there, sprawled in various positions on the floor or on the couches, except for Salazar and Taniqa, the latter of which had found a way to entertain herself in the form of stealing the Matis’s socks and hiding them, the aforementioned Matis chasing her around the Guild Hall trying to stop her from doing just that. For a moment there was a clamor of noise as the two went racing through the living room, Salazar shouting threats and insults not meant for such young ears, then the sound of their boots faded and silence reigned once more, broken only by the music lilting from Fylon’s panpipes.

The shadows behind the mask of another rather bored looking Zoraï moved as his eyes opened to slits, following the direction the two had just run off in, down the stairs to the dining hall. Then Tei-Jeng sighed, decided he’d sat in the lotus position for long enough, and heaved himself upright with a groan. How long had he been sitting on the hard floor like that? Behind him a young Matis sighed wistfully, her head leaning on her arm as she stared at the floor. Pippa may have looked old enough to wield a sword, but her mind and heart were as young and free as a child’s, and not accustomed to being kept indoors.

‘Has it stopped raining yet?’ she asked, the tremor in her sweet voice sounding hopeful.

Fyl paused his playing, lifted his mouth from his instrument to listen, and resumed again after a short ‘I don’t know.’ Pippa sighed and resumed staring at the ground, lifting her eyes again only when Salazar and Taniqa went racing through the living room for the second time, the little Trykette hugging an admirable pile of socks to her chest and the Matis yelling something about not reviving her the next time a gingo ripped her apart.
From where he sat, next to the Zoraï bard, Eta winced and tried to ignore the two as they rampaged through the hall, but when the sound of clattering plates and utensils reached his ears the Matis leapt to his feet and roared—in a voice loud enough to wake The Dragon—:

‘WOULD YOU TWO STOP IT!’

The entire living room went dead silent. So did the kitchen.

‘TANIQA. SALAZAR. COME HERE!’

For a few minutes everyone hardly dared to breathe. Fyl, Tei, Pippa, Yuuzuki, Coshiva, Thy … all of them could only stare at the Matis were he stood, clad in his proud, white uniform, standing tall and commanding and glaring meaningfully in the direction the two troublemakers had run. A moment later Taniqa and Salazar shuffled through the door and all heads turned slowly to watch them advance, the Tryker—looking thoroughly scared and sorry for herself—tiptoeing forward in small baby steps, the other pushing her forward with more contempt on his face than even Eta could manage and taking long, proud strides.

Taniqa stopped a few paces short of Nuvad’s second in command, or so Eta seemed to her. When Nuvad wasn’t around he ran the show, and ran it well, if not a little formally. He had the distinguished red hair of the Argonauts, the trained warriors of the Argo Navis, and the muscles to show for it. In his stern eyes you could see years of experience had taken their toll, but he was not entirely unkind and had warmly welcomed Taniqa to their Halls. And he could cook.

Another pause, then the Tryker timidly glanced up through her fringe at him.
‘Give me that,’ he ordered; she needed no second bidding. Taniqa practically threw the socks at him as though they had bitten her, took a step back, found her way blocked by Salazar’s still-fuming frame, and cowered against him. Eta raised an eyebrow, bundled the socks into a tight little pile, and shoved them into Salazar’s arms.

‘From a Trainee I might expect this kind of behavior,’ he said, letting his glare linger over the Trykette for a moment longer, before flicking them up at the Matis behind her, ‘But not from an Argonaut, least of all you. Taniqa, you should know better than invading the room of one higher than you, not without his permission, and you should especially know better than to steal his private property! This is not what the Argo Navis has taught you. And you,’ he continued, turning his attention back to Salazar, ‘Should know better than to chase her around the guild like we’re Fyros in Pyr hunting izams!’—Yuuzuki and Cosh both gave Eta a meaningful glare at this—‘Take these socks back to your room, Master Caradini, and as for you Taniqa, one hour praying to Jena for forgiveness.’

Under normal circumstances the Trykette would have put up an immediate row; she didn’t see why praying to their Goddess should be turned into a punishment when thanking her should be a joyous affair, but since Salazar had discovered how much she disliked being cooped up before an altar for hours on end praying, he’d taken great pains to make sure she was “rewarded” as such, and usually enjoyed being the overseer as well. This time, however, she took it without a word of complaint, sidling over to the couch across from Fyl as the Zoraï picked up his tune where he had been interrupted. Salazar left the room as Eta took a seat again, and returned as the Homins’ thoughts drifted to the brisk air lying just outside the walls …

The sound of the front doors sliding open reached their ears, followed by heavy stomping, as though someone was exhausted but running frantically towards them. Since he was still standing, Tei-Jeng advanced towards the door as the others leapt to their feet, then suddenly Nuvad stumbled into the room.
He looked terrible, drenched from head to foot, mud coating his boots and spattered all the way up his trousers, a trail of footprints staining the mossy floor behind him. He was skinny for a Matis, extraordinarily skinny, and tall to boot. His lanky form hid the true strength within, though Taniqa had often thought all his spare muscle had gone to his nose, but there was a reason he was their leader. Not only was he just in his actions and judgment—although the real orders came from Vessus—he could wield a sword better than any of them, and would fight for their beliefs to the end. There wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t know his own strength, the strength of his sword, and once he was in action his weapon became an extension of him. She had seen him go from the usually placid leader he was to a rampant writhe in battle, suddenly no longer as clumsy as his slight form might have you believe. He had the distinguishable orange hair and red tribal tattoos marking him as a true Argonaut. This time, however, it was matted and tangled, and had come undone from its small ponytail at the back. He tripped as he ran through the entranceway, but Tei-Jeng caught him just in time.

Eta looked like he was about to say something, and Thy took a few steps forward towards their leader—who was like a close brother to him—but Nuvad stopped them all in their tracks.

‘No time!’ he exclaimed, gasping for breath, ‘Kamists, in Matia! They’re riding south from the Borders as we speak, headed straight for the Wooky Workshop! I’ve warned what other Guilds I could of the threat and they are already on their way, but we must make haste! In a few hours they will reach the Outpost! Eta, get me my armor, Tei-Jeng, Taniqa, get the mektoubs saddled and ready! The rest of you, get your gear on and get your weapons, we can’t afford to lose any more time!’

“Kamists”, it was the magic word, and in no less than a heartbeat the Argo Navis was a buzzing hive of activity. Tei-Jeng and Taniqa, both of them new recruits, ran back down the corridor Nuvad had just come from and through the sliding doors to the portal, a ring of glowing blue light that teleported them in an instant to the ground floor of the tree. Their mektoubs were tied loosely to a fence just outside the hall, standing idly in the rain, which had picked up since the morning. Nuvad’s mount stood just nearby, waiting diligently for its master, dipping its head every now and then to yank chunks of grass from the soil with its trunk. They’d saddled and tacked mektoubs plenty of times before and had become rather efficient at it; Tei-Jeng carried the saddles and bridles out from storage (he was very strong, as most Zoraï tend to be) and Taniqa began fitting on their reins. They were checking the girth on the last of the saddles was good and tight as the door slid open and the rest of the Argo Navis stepped forth from the glow within.

Nuvad was dressed in new, clean armor, looking every inch their leader. Thy handed Taniqa her belt with her two Tryker daggers tucked neatly away in their sheathes, flashing her a comforting smile and ruffling her hair before presenting Tei-Jeng with his amplifiers. It would be their first Outpost battle; it wouldn’t be a mindless rabble of wild dogs they’d be fighting this time.

‘Follow me closely, we want to avoid getting mauled by gingos if we can,’ Nuvad announced, looking over the small party as they sat atop their mounts, his eye lingering on Taniqa for a moment longer at the last point. Their mektoubs pawed the muddy soil and snuffled restlessly; they could sense a change in the mood, ‘Thy, Salazar, you take the rear, Eta up front with me. The rest of you, form a tight knot around our new recruits.’ His voice dropped slightly and he shook his head, suddenly he didn’t sound so commanding anymore. ‘By rights I shouldn’t even be dragging you into this.’

The Argo Navis were in formation; they watched their leader, awaiting his word.

‘Argonauts, follow me!’

Hills, cliffs, roots and trees whipped past them in a blur of green and brown and the thundering of their mounts filled their ears. Taniqa sat straight and alert in her saddle, her hands gripping the reins more out of contained excitement than anxiety, as the wind whistled past her ears and almost whipped her hair out of its ponytail. Beside her Tei-Jeng rode stiff and formal, his Zoraï mask hiding everything, but she could feel he was excited too, if not a little apprehensive. She found that Tei sent off sort of vibes of moods and feelings, since he was hardly inclined to twist his mask into any sort of expression. All around them the Argonauts rode on, the brisk autumn air biting at their ears and noses, so that in no time at all Taniqa was suddenly wishing she was back in the guild hall, or at the scene of the battle already, getting her muscles warmed up.

They followed a route she wasn’t familiar with, cutting across the countryside almost as soon as they trampled out of the city, leaving the path behind them. Gingos and ragus swarmed near the road, hunting Homins unwary enough to venture too far from Yrkanis. The Greenseed camp posted near the arena could hardly thin their numbers, as they seemed to breed like yubos. No, they would skirt the ravenous packs and plunge straight into the forests, rumbling over the rolling hills through plains infested with psykopla and cratchas. They bristled and crackled at them as they rode past, narrowly avoiding the kinchers and javings, the voracious torbaks as they prowled the land. The last time Taniqa had been this close to a Kitin of any kind she had been abandoned on a knoll by Salazar himself.

‘There it is,’ Thy called, tilting his head to indicate the plains looming into view. The sky was still heavy with grey clouds, their swollen bellies ready to burst with rain, as they thundered down over the hill to join the rest of the waiting Karavans. It was a nice little standstill, with both sides standing a good distance away from each other, waiting for the other’s first move.

Nuvad was the first to dismount and strode over to another Matis standing at the fore of the crowd, leaning both hands on a great broadsword, lips pursed as he scrutinized the army rallied on the other side.

‘How long has it been?’ he asked, getting straight to business. The other Matis started, as though noticing Nuvad for the first time, and replied coolly.

‘They arrived not more than five minutes ago and have been standing around since then, organizing their troops. I guess they weren’t expecting such a fast and coordinated reaction; planned to sneak in unnoticed and take it right under our very noses. I’d say you and your lot got here just in time, looks like we’re about to see some action.’

He turned his head to survey the Argonauts, who had followed suite and swung down from their saddles, their boots squelching as they landed in the mud. Taniqa hurriedly took the reins of the mektoubs and led them to the back of the battle, away from the fight, where they would be safe with the rest of the mounts. If there was one animal on Atys she couldn’t bear to see get hurt, it was a mektoub; Tei-Jeng had seen that first-hand himself when a Karavan Missionary had asked her to fetch him some mektoub meat in the name of Jena. The poor Trykette was so distraught he had killed and skinned the meat for her, and then let her pass it off as her own.

‘Are they all?’ the Matis asked. Nuvad nodded.

‘You’ve seen my Argonauts in battle before. We may be few, but we’ll cut their numbers down nicely.’

‘She seems a bit young.’

Nuvad followed the direction of his gaze to where Taniqa was running back to join the others. Tei-Jeng was pulling on his magic amplifiers; they burst into life as his fingers filled the gloves, glimmering orbs of light floating from them before sputtering into blue Karavan symbols: stylized infinity symbols, a sign of the infinite possibilities offered by the good Goddess Jena. Salazar stood nearby, his gloves already warmed up and ready. Being the Argonaut of the Healing Hand, it was his job to heal people, transferring his Sap and Life into other Homins in great jets of luminous blue light. All around there was a buzz of excitement and anticipation, a sort of humming in their very bodies like energy ready to be unleashed. Taniqa remembered her daggers and quickly unsheathed them. They were of Tryker make, and burst into life in her hands, crackling and snapping with electricity as she flipped them in the air, getting a feel for their handles again.

‘By rights she shouldn’t be here,’ Nuvad finally replied with a grimace, a flash of regret in his eyes, ‘But her heart’s in the right place; she’s an Argos just as the rest of us, and follows Jena’s ways with a pure mind. One day she’ll make a fine Argonaut.’

A small smile tugged at the edge of the other leader’s mouth. ‘Something tells me she wont adhere to the pink … here they come.’

One of the Trykers on the Karavaneer frontlines had been glancing back at the horizon behind them, watching the low rumble of thunder roll towards them in great billowing black clouds. Suddenly a flash of pink struck him square in the back of the head, causing him to double over. Any snappish words from the Fyra that had cast it were drowned in the roar that surged to the skies as both sides rushed forwards, neither needing nor expecting any orders from their leaders to attack. The battle was on.

Thy rushed forward with a yell, brandishing his twin daggers, racing forward at the head of the attack with Nuvad and Eta on either side of him, Pippa sprinting alongside as well. They looked dire as they charged, Nuvad’s fists wringing the hilt of his broadsword as he gripped it tight, muttering between his teeth:

‘Let us show them that the only fear this morning will be theirs!’

With a clash of blade against blade the two sides met, while behind them the mages and magicians cast spell after spell. Acid flew across the ranks, spattering those below it with painful drops that burnt the skin, but the warriors ignored it, slashing and battering their way through the ranks. Taniqa ran past Tei-Jeng and Fyl, ducking the clouds of hissing green acid that soared from Tei’s fingertips and feeling the heat of a fireball as it narrowly missed her side, propelled by Fylon’s sheer strength. Her palms were sweating under her gloves as she gripped her daggers as though her life depended on it, dashing forward after Thy as fast as her short legs could carry her.

‘What do you think you’re doing!’ Salazar’s voice was barely audible over the tumultuous clamor of battle, but Taniqa heard it sure enough. She ducked and tried swerving out of the way—a move she’d practiced almost to perfection in order to avoid exactly this—but too late: suddenly a gloved had had grabbed the collar of her armor and yanked her back, causing her to slip on the muck and land on her rear rather painfully.

‘What was that for?’ she yelled, now thoroughly wishing she had burned his socks while she’d had the chance. Above her the thunder finally cracked, breaking through the clouds. They opened and rain poured down. They struck her in the face as she looked up at Salazar towering over her, great big droplets that forced her to shield her face from their blows.

‘I don’t have time for annoying little Trykers!’ the Matis seethed during a lull in his healing, taking the chance to hoist her to her feet by her collar again and back her against a fence nearby, ‘And I don’t have time for healing them either when there are skilled, trained warriors out there facing death right now that need my help! If you want to fight, then fight to the side. Grab your amps like Tei-Jeng and shoot acid, or even better, heal!’

He turned and sent another blast of energy rocketing towards Nuvad and Eta in the fore, but they were getting farther and farther away, out of his range and into the heart of battle. Taniqa glared at his retreating figure as he ran towards them, then glanced at the huddle of mektoubs where Lila, her mount, pawed the ground restlessly, agitated by the shouts and screams and the clash of the thunder.

Heal? And miss an opportunity to really get in there like this? Oho, she didn’t think so. With a look of grim determination on her face, the Trykette raced after the Healer and into the thick of the battle. At least if she stayed close enough to him she’d have a healer nearby, and despite what he’d just said she knew he’d have to revive her, anyway.

All around her were raging Homins thrashing at each other left right and center. Those that had been disarmed in battle or had lost their blades to a particularly deep wound were going at one-another with their bare fists; in an instant Taniqa was lost in a jungle of flailing limbs and weapons. She just barely ducked the double-handed sword of another Tryker in the confusion, a Kamist, and instinctively struck out with her blade. He went down without a fuss, having already been mortally wounded.

Suddenly the pounding of adrenaline that had been thrumming through her ears faded and then ceased completely, the sounds of the fight filling her ears and stabbing her right to the core. She had just killed another Homin, regardless of faction, and it hadn’t felt good. It wasn’t like hunting gingos or hacking through kipee, it wasn’t a mindless Homin eater. It was another person, just like her, who hadn’t been able to get a healer’s aid in time.

In an instant she wanted to be out of there, out from the heart of the battle. She wanted to be watching it from the top of the hillock with the mektoubs, busying herself with their tack rather than actually seeing the slaughter below. And all for what, a few good materials? Some enchanted crystals?

Smack! She was knocked out of her reverie as the flat of someone’s axe struck her square across the back of her head, knocking her flower pin right out of her hair so it fell loose and wild around her face. She was under attack! Taken by surprise, panicking now, she flicked her hair out of her face so she could see her opponent, and suddenly the same blade came at her again, this time its honed edge pointed straight at her. Too late: it hit her in her side, ignoring her armor, slashing straight through it to the soft flesh beneath. With a piercing cry she felt the blood flow from the wound.

‘TANIQA!’ That voice, that familiar voice. Both she and the Fyra that had gashed her turned in Salazar’s direction, just in time to see him launch a powerful jet of acid. It struck the Kamist square in the face, and Taniqa screamed and hid her face behind her hands as the Fyra’s face melted clean off her bones, the grinning skull and gaping eyes toppling to the ground. She had never been so scared in all her life. When she turned back to Sal again she had tears streaming down her face, mixing now with the rain that pasted her hair to her face. She was temporarily blinded by the sting of the salt, and as her vision finally cleared she saw something that made another scream rip free of her throat before she could contain it.

A lithe Zoraï had broken free from a knot of hacking swords and was headed straight at the Matis, exposed and in the heart of the battle as he was. His back was turned towards her as her long gait sent her racing towards him, and Taniqa’s heart leapt as she saw her pull a dagger from it’s sheath, bracing it above her head for maximum impact.

“SALAZAAAAAAARR!’

He turned as the Zoraï slashed down with her blade; she was quick, but Taniqa was quicker.

Everything seemed to happen at once; even Nuvad and Eta swiveled around at the Tryker’s scream, just in time to see her shove Salazar out of the way of the Kamist’s blade. Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t quite fast enough and the Zoraï couldn’t stop herself. The pain that pulsed from her side was nothing compared to what she felt next, as the dagger came down on her instead, piercing her where her armor was weakest. It sliced unobstructed through the top of her chest, crushing through bone and straight into her lungs, narrowly missing her heart. Agony exploded within her, a rush of noise that blocked her ears and clouded her vision.

Her legs gave way under her in the next second and she crashed to the ground, staring at the sky, rain splashing into her eyes, nose, into her mouth. The throbbing sound returned, and then she realized … it was her heartbeat she was hearing, her heartbeat waning as her blood flowed over her like the rain, staining her armor, streaming onto the earth. Her head lolled to the side and she saw Thy leap into her field of vision, flying straight into the Zoraï, giving her no mercy as his own daggers delved into her again and again until she, too, collapsed. Then he was leaning over her, his face looming in front of her as he called her name, but she barely heard it over the burble of her veins.

Carefully, the Matis slid his bloodstained hands under her shoulders, lifting her gently from the mud. It released her with a lazy sucking noise. A small whimpering noise choked its way out of her before being strangled by a hideous choking as she coughed clouts of blood. It trickled down the corners of her mouth, running over his armor as he brushed her hair out of her face. Around them the battle raged on, though the action was waning. Eta and Nuvad cut down some of the last of the advancing Kamists, while Pippa’s shrill cry rent the air, calling for Salazar. Shortly after having been pushed down another Homin had attacked him, drawing him even further into the fray. Barely clinging to the last of his energy, he staggered back, clutching a gaping wound just under his ribs, then gasped when he saw Taniqa.

He was teetering on the edge of collapse as Pippa rushed forward and propped him up just in time, letting him put the brunt of his weight on her. Though Pippa had seen many more battles than Tani ever had, she, too, had tears coursing down her cheeks. Thy looked up at their healer slowly, still cradling the Trykette in his arms as her breathing became shallower.

‘Can you heal her?’

She could barely hear him over the throbbing of her heart, and her vision had begun to fog, shadows threatening the back of her mind. She looked up at Thy with watery eyes, like a wounded pup, confused and lost, then her head lolled to the side and she saw Salazar push himself onto his own two feet. And as she lay there on the ground, her vision rapidly getting enveloped in darkness, she saw him chant into the rumbling of the storm, his voice getting picked up and thrown around, scattered in the wind. A blue light began to glow around him, growing steadily brighter, his amps throbbing and pulsing like her heart. Suddenly wings burst forth from his body and ribbons of energy ripped the air around him, lifting him off the ground as a white light filled her eyes.

Then she fell into blackness.