FREE USE in Primitive World

Wives and mothers broke through the edges of the column to throw their arms around husbands and sons.

Fathers gripped the shoulders of their returning children with trembling hands. Some simply fell to their knees in the dirt, overcome, pressing their foreheads to the ground in gratitude to the ancestors.

The bound Coalition captives were led onward under heavy guard toward the lower prison, their presence almost forgotten amid the overwhelming tide of emotion.

No one spared them more than a passing glance of contempt or grim satisfaction. All attention belonged to the living... to the warriors who had gone out against impossible odds and returned victorious.

Through it all, Sol walked in silence near the center of the column, the Dreadwing Blade resting against his back. The roar of the tribe washed over him, as he reveled it all silently.

Kira’s eyes were bright with unshed tears as she watched the reunions. Even Zeyra’s usual sharp expression had softened, a rare, quiet smile touching her lips as the sound of pure relief and celebration filled the air.

The Veynar had not merely survived.

They had come home.

...

Throughout it all, Warchief Veylara didn’t say a word.

She walked straight through the celebrating crowd toward the center of the grand plaza, her posture straight and commanding despite the lingering exhaustion of battle.

The people parted before her almost instinctively. When she reached the raised stone platform at the heart of the settlement, she stopped and raised her right hand.

Her sun core flared with a warm, radiant light that washed over the plaza like a second dawn. The roaring crowd fell into a respectful, eager silence almost at once. Hundreds of faces turned toward her ... eyes bright with tears, hope, and lingering disbelief.

Children were lifted onto shoulders so they could see. Elders leaned forward on their staffs. Warriors who had remained behind stood rigid, waiting.

Veylara let the silence settle fully before she spoke. When her voice finally rang out, it was solemn and heavy with the weight of everything they had endured.

”People of the Veynar.”

The simple address carried across the settlement, echoing off the houses.

”Two days ago, we stood on the edge of extinction. An army many times our number marched into our mountains. The Coalition came with the full strength of the Gray Marauders, the Zerith stalkers, and their allied forces... thousands of warriors, elite vanguards, and Layer 4 chieftains who had long terrorized these lands. They came not merely to defeat us... but to erase us.”

A low, troubled murmur moved through the crowd. Many lowered their eyes, remembering the dread that had gripped the tribe when the first reports arrived.

Veylara’s expression hardened.

”And they did not come alone. The Zharun... who once called us allies, who shared our borders and were fellow humans... betrayed us.They had already joined hands with the Coalition in secret. They smiled at our backs while sharpening their knives. They planned to feast on our lands once we had fallen.”

Hearing this intense murmurs immediately rang out, and anger rippled through the gathered Veynar. Fists clenched and faces hardened immediately.

”Worse still,” Veylara continued, her voice dropping lower, ”Me and High Shaman were poisoned”.

At this even louder murmurs rang out as people looked at Veylara and Zephyra with disbelief and shock.

But Veylara didn’t stop and continued, ”the poison that nearly claimed my life and the life of our High Shaman did not come from an outside enemy. It came from within. Thorne... a man who once stood among our elders... betrayed his own blood.

He coated our sacred ritual markings with Heart-Freezing Bog-Marrow and waited for us to burn our strength in battle so the toxin could take hold. He sold our lives for power and the promise of a seat among our destroyers.”

The silence that followed was deafening. People held their breath as they couldn’t be;ive that their own elder would betray them. Zharun betraying was somewhat acceptable, but Elder Thorne? They couldn’t believe that.

The memory of how close they had come to total collapse hung over the plaza like a storm cloud.

”But worry not, the Great Orrath Coalition has been utterly annihilated! Their grand chieftains are dead. Their vanguards are crushed. And their legacy in these mountains is broken forever!”

For a moment the silence held... as if the tribe needed a heartbeat to fully absorb the words.

Then a wild, ground-shaking cheer erupted.

Fists punched into the air. Voices cracked with raw emotion. Some people openly wept while shouting. The sound rolled through the settlement in waves, fierce and unrestrained, the release of days of terror transforming into pure, overwhelming relief.

Veylara allowed it to continue for several long seconds.

Then she raised her hand once more.

This time her expression turned deeply solemn.

Veylara’s gaze swept across her people. Then, slowly, she turned and looked toward the rear of the column... toward the calm figure standing between Kira and Zeyra.

Her voice rose, stronger now, filled with fierce pride.

”We are still here because the victory we celebrate today was not won by numbers, or by luck, or by the ancestors alone. It was carved out by one man.”

She raised her arm and pointed directly at Sol.

”When our ranks were breaking, he stood firm. When Layer 4 chieftains rose against us, he met them without hesitation. He shattered their power. He tore through their ranks.

He hunted down the traitors who poisoned us and delivered judgment with his own hands. And when the same deadly toxin burned through my veins and the High Shaman’s, it was he who purged it and returned us to our feet.”

The crowd remained utterly silent, every eye fixed on the black-armored figure.

”He stood against thousands,” Veylara declared, her deep blue eyes shining with absolute reverence. ”He broke the Coalition’s spine. He ripped the heads from their greatest warriors. He turned a war of annihilation into their funeral. And he delivered the Veynar from the very jaws of extinction.”

She brought her closed fist to her chest and bowed her head slightly toward him... the highest formal gesture of respect a Veynar Warchief could offer.

”Behold Sol!

The Grand Champion and Savior of the Veynar!”