Another day, another step towards war. The road to peace, I feel, has been tarnished before we can even make amends. We have proven to the Cinari and the world that we deserve our right to be free, for we have fought for it. To be neither rulers nor subjects but treated the same as any Cinari. Equals.

  Though in the end, Marak doesn’t want that, nor does anyone else I fear. War is preferable to peace in the eyes of the vengeful. I can understand the need to head north, to combat the Cinari. But we should make steps to talk for peace first. To prevent unnecessary bloodshed. This war has gone on long enough, I just wish it ends sooner rather than later.

  Wanting to find an escape, I enter the forge room. Scraps of metal, unfinished parts, and untended wood are scattered across every table. One student looks over the scraps to determine what they can use the waste for. Scraping stone hisses as cold steel scrapes along its edges. Shaping dull blades into sharp instruments of war.

  Our forges have been working around the clock, producing fine armours and weapons with a variety of metals. In just a year, we made enough to supply our army three times over. A remarkable feat on our part. Though in the end, all the credit goes to its forger master.

  Syndy sits in her office, looking over scrolls and drawing on graphs with contempt. She gently smiles, her jade eyes sparkle as I walk into the room. With a jolt, she bursts out from her chair, shaking off sawdust from her white fur before she rushes towards me.

  ‘Alex! How are you doing?’ She embraces me while wagging her tail, acting like it has been years since we last met. Even though I only left her for work this morning.

  I chuckle, ‘I’m doing fine. Just seeing how you are holding up.’

  ‘Oh, you know, drawing up new designs while I finish cooking up your mistake.’

  ‘What?’

  Syndy rolls her eyes while she rubs her pregnant belly. ‘This thing, you idiot.’

  I laugh in confusion. Ever since she got pregnant, she started making awful jokes that make no sense. But they keep her happy. That is all that matters in the end.

  ‘Is working treating you well? Do you need any more help?’ I offer my hand for her to take.

  Syndy turns around and picks up the schismatics she is working on to show me instead. A new design for the repeater crossbow. From what I can tell, this one will be a lot easier and cheaper to make. However, I doubt this will ever see the light of day when we head north.

  For a year, she worked on modifying and improving our armoury. She made our armour lighter, removed the excess metal in our weapons so she can recycle them to build bolts and nails. She even made our helmets more comfortable to wear. Even having the honour to make Marak’s war crown.

  But with every piece of protection comes the production of war. She works tirelessly, inventing new devices made to kill. A pregnant woman shouldn’t focus on that.

  ‘This…’ Syndy continues while looking over the schematics. ‘This can help our soldiers on the field in case they need to fix their crossbows. They can build whatever part with the least amount of resources and time. I can start making instruction scrolls before you head off.’

  I frown. She talks like this war machine is remarkable. While it is, I hate to imagine how effective it is at killing. The weapon is necessary to fight the Cinari; we need a leg up at every turn. I only wish weapons like these had never existed.

  Syndy’s face lowers at my expression and stops before she can continue on about her new weapon. She holds my hand gently and pulls on it. ‘Hey, let me show you something else.’

  She guides me to her woodshop. On the table are various toys and trinkets. Some are painted and varnished, others are nearing the process of completion. I pick up a blue toy horse. Raising my spirit to see that toys are still being made. Though my heart flutters with joy, my mind keeps screaming about the impending war. There will be a lot of dead, and a lot more orphans to look after.

  It is a good refresher after all this preparation. To see that there is progress towards a better future, no matter how small that progress may be.

  ‘I made them for us, and maybe after the war I can start a toy shop.’ Syndy jokes while she stands beside me. Her hand near mine.

  My fingers entangle with hers. ‘Yeah, I can start a new life as a scribe. Maybe even start a life of being an accountant.’

  She punches my shoulder. ‘I think you are better off retiring. Your eyes tell me you need to sleep after staying awake all the time.’

  I grin, ‘maybe retire to your room after all of this is over.’

  Syndy smirks, biting her lower lip. ‘Well, I’ll think about it. But first, how about you go to the market and buy some food for dinner.’

  ‘Kicking me out already? I thought you were excited to see me?’

  With a light groan, she lowers herself onto her rocking chair. Smirking at me as if she is trying to tell a joke. Though I can’t understand what the punchline is. ‘Well, I got bored with you and had my mandatory hug for the day. And I want you to cook my personal favourite again.’

  Great! I guess we are going to have fawaregh again. I used to like that stuff, but ever since she got pregnant, we have been eating the same thing for three months straight. At this point, I might as well become a vegetarian.

  ‘Do I have to make it?’ I pout.

  ‘Do you want me to whine and complain all day?’ She sharply replies.

  In defeat, I cave in to her demands. Knowing well that going against her wishes will be the end of the world and possibly my life. ‘Alright, I’ll get ready to make it. Anything else you want?’

  Syndy hands me a piece of paper after she points to the exit. ‘That’ll tell you all you need. Now, hurry off! Your queen is feeling famished.’ She pulls me by the hand to lightly nibble on my right ear. Afterwards, she gently shoves me away with a wink. Forcing me to leave with my face feeling warmer than normal.

  The marketplace is always a treat to go to. Though in this city, even beauty has its dark side. Structured like an ant colony, Cinari slaves haul food and supplies on carts around in an organised line. Going to and from designated buildings to either be given to the army heading north or to stock up for the winter.

  It breaks me, watching how we repeat the same mistakes. Either out of vengeance or in total ignorance. The pain we are inflicting on those is no different from the suffering our enslavers enforced onto us. The Cinari are weaker than us and smaller than the average Dog, with the only exception being the white manes. We shouldn’t put them through manual labour, but we do.

  Most carry injuries. It isn’t uncommon for their backs to be scarred and deformed. Punishment for crimes is disproportionate. While a Dog convicted of stealing will face time behind bars. A thief who is a Cinari will have their disembowelled corpse hung up in the main square for the world to see.

  No matter what, the punishment they commit will never fit the crime. Last week, an elderly Cinari woman was stoned to death for humming too loudly. It wasn’t even a law; the guards were just bored and picked the nearest victim to torment.

  Oblivious that we are acting and looking like the people who put us in chains. Their children work long hours, the men are forced to do dangerous work that will most likely die once their usefulness is gone, and the women are forced to perform in the entertainment districts. It needs to end! But it can’t with Marak in charge. For things to change, he has to step down from power. Though in reality, that isn’t possible.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  The Cinari smile upon my arrival, but they don’t approach me or wave for my attention, as it will put them in trouble. But they know I mean no harm to them. I’m not allowed to interact with them, though I try my best to make their lives easier.

  Maybe they don’t agree with slavery, maybe they agree with my vision of the world. Well, I hope they do. For now, I think they understand. Forced servitude is a sin, not just to the nation but to what makes us living beings. Regardless of whether we are Dogs or Cinari.

  While I buy the necessary items from Syndy’s list. A malnourished Cinari boy sits next to one of the food stalls. His cheeks are sunken in; his eyes are tired and dried up from all of his crying. The hair on the poor kid’s head is even falling out.

  The kid doesn’t deserve this. But I have no power to stop any of it. With the remainder of my money, I buy a loaf of bread and an apple in a cloth satchel. I walk by the boy and drop the bread and apple near his feet. He looks up to me, confused at what I did. With a nod, I smile at the food by his feet to tell him it is all his.

  The kid forms a crooked smile as he takes his meal. There is a sparkle in his eye. If I have to make a guess, I suppose he is slightly more hopeful now than before. The world needs that hope, a vision for a better future. That we can all do better.

  In reality, it is a false hope. A hope created with a faith that will require Marak to change. If only he can see what we are doing, to know what we are enforcing is not necessary, but a great evil. It’s too late!

  Soon, I will head north to participate in a war. No longer is it a fight for my freedom or to end my people’s slavery. Now we are fighting for the Cinari to take my place as a servant to a lineage of cruel masters.

  Early in the morning, I stand alongside the other Dogs in Marak’s throne room. I guess after a week of choosing and deciding, he finally figures out who will stay behind to defend and govern the South.

  Two Dogs stand by the entrance, helping each other as they push open or close the colossal doors leading into the throne. I suspect they were damaged when we lay siege to the city, though I am unsure myself. Hopefully, those damn doors will be fixed in the near future.

  I’m not ready. I don’t want to leave Syndy behind, nor do I want to know who will stay behind to look after her. Thorgan will stay, but someone else will stay with him. Either it would be Karl or Max. I just hope Max isn’t chosen to stay. She will make life miserable for the Cinari people, and I doubt I will ever come back to any left alive.

  I know I have to be sent North. Yet, I don’t want to leave. I know it is necessary if it means my people are free, but I am tired of this war. We never try to find peace, and we are on the path of self-destruction if we continue with this path. Even if there are better options available to us, even if there is an end to all of this. Blood will have to spill. Most will be innocent.

  Everyone waits in the room, and Max, as always, wears some sort of fancy dress tailored to her likeness. Behind the facade of beauty, she is quivering. Maybe she wants to stay or head north to fight. Either way, I don’t know nor care.

  Karl came in this time wearing his armour with a green stripe painted in the middle of his chest plate. This is done under Marak’s orders to visually show which army the soldier belongs to. Our way of organising and managing the war effort.

  Midrax also wears his armour with a red stripe on both of his shoulder pads. While we have made progress on our armour, he looks like a large behemoth. More metal than Dog.

  Thorgan greets me. ‘It’s good to see you up early.’ He says with a smile. Normally, he isn’t interested in small talk, but since everyone is on edge, I suppose he is doing it to get minds at ease.

  ‘I don’t have a choice. None of us do.’ Thorgan's smile fades at my reply, understanding that I don’t want to participate in any form of small talk. The time isn’t appropriate, not when war is a high likelihood. But I appreciate his effort; he just wants to loosen the tension.

  ‘Maybe not, but we have to remember what we are fighting for. This war is more than just a fight for freedom. It is now a fight for what our future should be.’

  ‘And what do you want it to be?’ I ask him, while he seems like a good man. I need to make sure I can trust him. My views on the Cinari are known, but being public about it would get people killed.

  ‘Better than before,’ he sighs. ‘I lived long enough to see and understand the horrors of our enslavement. It might feel good at the moment, but we will soon be hit by the guilt of it. We all did things we will never be proud of. However, I never wish to inherit the sins of those who came before us.’

  I nod in agreement. At least we can agree on the fundamentals. He never comes off as someone who hates the Cinari, though he understands that the relationship between our species is a sensitive one. When I leave, I hope he can establish some sort of relations between our people.

  Soon after, Marak walks to sit on his throne. Last year, half of his body was covered in white fur. Bleached white by the magical weaponry the Cinari utilised at Bunker Hill. It is starting to grey, darkening to be more like his natural black fur. Though his left eye is still a milky white, as if he were blind from that eye. He will say to me he doesn’t have any problems with that eye, but I am not sure if that is even true.

  ‘I have made my decision!’ Marak announces. The room lies silent, waiting for his response.

  I groan, knowing that I have to head north. Away from Syndy. It pains me that I will have to leave her.

  Marak continues. ‘We all know that the south needs leadership, it needs someone I can trust to not just keep it safe but build upon it to be a self-efficient kingdom.’ Marak looks over to Max. ‘Max, I want you to stay behind to help maintain the military of the South. You are needed in its defence.’

  I tilt my head down. This is bad, and it will only get worse. By the time I get back, there will be nothing but ruin. By everything good in this world, I just hope she doesn’t bring harm to Syndy.

  Max walks up and bowls to Marak, ‘and I will make sure to lead the South…’

  ‘No,’ Marak coldly interrupts. ‘You are the leader of the army, not the regent of my kingdom. Let’s make it clear that you are only called to maintain the army.’

  Max raises her brow, confused but also furious at what Marak has said to her. Though it didn’t take long before she put on a fake smile and acted appreciative of Marak’s orders. ‘Then, who is in charge?’

  ‘The person to lead the South as its regent. That title belongs to Alex.’

  I look up in shock at Marak. I'm what!? That means… I’m staying here?

  ‘So, Alex. Will you stay here and govern the South?’ Marak waits for my answer. His tone is harsh, as if to demand my answer be immediate.

  In all honesty, I don’t know if I can. But I have no desire to head up north and leave Syndy behind either. Yet, this could be good! I can implement changes that can help everyone. With the resources and power at my disposal, I can end slavery and take steps towards unifying our peoples.

  But why did he choose me? He knows where I stand in this war. Maybe he doesn’t trust me on the battlefield. Or perhaps, I am truly the best candidate for the role. That must be why he also has Max stay behind; he knows I am capable, but he also knows I am not entirely trustworthy.

  ‘I will.’ I announce, almost cracking my voice with the sheer weight of it all.

  Marak grins. ‘Good.’