A man came out from behind the trunk of a tree, a young boy dressed in fine clothing.
Allegra and the Chiefs stopped in the middle of the bridge at the sight of the man… or the people who came behind him.
Twelve soldiers came carrying something over their shoulders, placing it at the feet of their master.
Not it, however, but them.
What the twelve soldiers brought forward were twelve Metamorphs.
One of each of the twelve clans.
And besides the Spirit Bears, from whom they picked a stronger-looking male, all who were tied up on their knees were the representatives of all the other clans.
Heru, Melsa, Iahmi, Vifien, Rina, and all others.
Growls and whimpers left the mouths of all the beasts behind Allegra as they turned into their human forms.
Their faces were frozen in fear at the sight of their sons and daughters kneeling on the ground before the young man.
"Now that is a nice look," the young man chuckled quietly.
"May I know whom we are to discuss with?" Georn asked, taking a step which brought him shoulder to shoulder with his daughter, who watched the scene with emotions she didn't know she had, unable to speak.
"Now you look like a reasonable man to discuss with," said the young man, a fake smile on his face, "I am Alvin Certa, Patriarch of Noble Blood Certa, Lord of the Domain you have so gracefully attacked without reason. How about you… bear man?"
"I am Georn, Elder of the people you hold captive, and whom I want back," Georn answered, straightening his back as he spoke, "If it can be discussed, that is."
"Negotiating the release of the people who slaughtered my own without negotiating first," Alvin sighed, "Truly barbaric."
"Name your price and we will pay it," Georn continued, eyes steady.
Alvin unsheathed the sword at his side.
It was a beautiful longsword, with golden decorations on its scabbard which reflected the light of the setting sun above them.
"Price?" asked Alvin as he placed the tip of the sword on the ground, using it as a walking stick. "Could you bring back all the innocent lives you have killed?"
"I'm afraid not," Georn replied honestly.
"Figured as much," Alvin sighed as he moved behind the twelve, his sword scraping the moist ground below his feet, "You know no price can undo what you and your little monsters have done to my Domain. But I'm a reasonable man, so, for the information I need, and enough gold to repay the families you have destroyed, I might release some of them."
"And what would you require to release all of them?" Georn asked, tilting his head.
Alvin smirked, shaking his head lightly as he turned his head towards the leaves above his head.
He exhaled once, twice, closing his eyes.
Yet the anger in his soul did not calm down, raising his sword high in the sky, before bringing it down towards the unfortunate Spirit Bear that was brought here as the representative of his clan.
His head rolled down the hill, falling into the gap as his body flopped to the ground, convulsing.
"I am the one who decides! Not you freaks!" Alvin yelled towards Georn, closing his eyes for a moment before inhaling deeply, trying to calm down, his fake smile returning on his lips after a few moments. "You have lost whatever this fight was for you, war or otherwise. And since time immemorial, the losing side never decides the terms."
"Have we?" Georn questioned.
Alvin began laughing, wiping the blood of his sword against the clothes of a terrified Heru.
He had just killed one of his own kin, a clansman, yet the bear he was speaking with hadn't even blinked at the death.
His eyes and the eyes of the young woman next to him were white, too beautiful not to be noticed.
But they were cold, carrying a coldness Alvin never knew possible.
As he stared at them, his eyes looked towards the taiga in the distance, comparing the coldness of the two.
They were the same in his eyes.
"You have lost," Alvin pressed, "And to prove it to you that you have, to prove to you how powerless you really are, with every wrong or unsatisfying answer, one of these twelve… Ah, excuse me, one of these eleven will die, right in front of your eyes, unable to do anything besides watch in horror."
"I'm sorry," Heru whispered as he looked towards his mother, not able to look in Allegra's direction.
Neither he nor Melsa, who refused to look up from the ground, not at her father, who was shaking lightly, seeing his daughter captured by humans, nor at her friend, who, in all her wisdom, could not see a way out of this situation.
"If all questions are answered truthfully, and if the sum of gold given in exchange is beyond satisfactory, how many of our own can we expect to see released?"
"Behind me are the better half of six hundred people," Alvin explained, "You can expect half. I'll even let you choose who gets to go free out of the three hundred."
Georn's brow twitched at the number, but another question whispered in his ear, "And what will you do with the rest?"
"That's for me to decide," Alvin shrugged, "But if I were to give you a few examples… hmmm, let's see, Ah! But of course, males as slaves, females as sex slaves, or better yet, as attractions, and uh… perhaps put to death for the entertainment of the Domain after they have been properly used. Something along those lines."
"And you call us barbaric," Georn hissed.
"Finally, some emotion," Alvin chuckled, "But that is unfortunately a wrong and totally unsatisfactory answer, mind you."
He picked another of the twelve.
It was Melsa.
Allegra took a step up the bridge as Alvin raised his sword, but she was caught by her father.
As Alvin was ready to let his sword deliver death, as Allegra was about to watch her old friend die, as Melsa knew her death was near, salvation came.
"Snakes ought to be snakes even after they shed their scales," a male voice called out from behind the chiefs.
A voice that made Alvin stop his sword right before finding its target, a deep frown painting his confused face, looking at who spoke.
Allegra, Georn, and all the chiefs turned to see who it was that stopped the horror from happening.
A young human with gray hair walked casually on the bridge towards them.
Besides him were four others.
Two beautiful women stood at his sides, one with wheat blonde hair, another with onyx colored hair, armed and clothed from head to toe, matching the climate they might have been in.
And behind the trio, a pair of twins walked, their backs straight, full of pride.
"Blanc…" muttered Allegra, as she stared into his eyes, her coldness cracking like ice under the weight of his presence.