When the evening approached, the tribe receded on the lower plateaus to enjoy the warmth of houses and food in abundance. They sang, they played until fatigue more than darkness forced them to sleep.
Just a few, a dozen or two, would spend that time at the tower.
There, along with warriors and the many servants they enjoyed their end of the day in the company of their champion. It was drink after drink, big talk, bets and feuding after a feast of fruits and roasted meat, the sauce still covering their tables.
Those kobels were the most prized of their tribe, the most honored. It was frequent for their chief to share the night there, and for the shaman apprentice to appear as well.
The only one missing was Savae.
As soon as she was finished with her plate the warrior left for the basement where, in the darkness, with nothing but bones for company, she would keep on training.
Tunu was still watching her exhausted among the damp stones of that cave.
She spoke first: "You are wasting your time with them."
"You're the one rotting all alone."
"Because you don't kill! Kill, kill them all and become a wyvern again!"
He only sneered.
"And kill you too?"
"Yes!"
"Maybe you like this solitude, but it's for them that I fight. I won't be satisfied until all of you rise with me. So come out, make friends. Try and be less... perfect."
She only hissed in response. Her eyes had already returned to the blood she was spilling on the ground.
There was no way to reason with a beast.
He returned to the lights of torches and braziers, in the smoky room where the crowd still cheered. Females pressed around him, glad to see the scaled lizard out of that damp basement.
They wanted to know who he would pick tonight. All of them had learned he favored those with fire stones on their skin and so they rubbed their arms, their sides, their neck for him to notice all the beauties they had to offer.
It was getting late indeed, so he picked three and headed for the first floor.
The warriors behind him still wanted to enjoy the last flames, so he crossed the hallway with their ruckus fading behind. The warrior at his room's door opened and let them all enter.
Elua had finished preparing the bed. She watched him pass with those females, put the jar of wine near the stand then walked out.
"Eh!" Tunu complained. "Not again! Come on, Elua, join us! It's your bed too!"
And the kobel, hiding her paltry muzzle: "Sorry, I... still want to watch the stars."
"You're not angry at me, are you?"
"No..." She said and rushed out.
He had wanted to get up, to go after her but the females around him pressed him on the bed with reassuring words.
After all, his love was free to do whatever she wanted. And if it made him worry, if it had him upset, it only meant he cared for her that much. He would trust her, he would trust he had not become monstrous in her eyes.
If anything that was what kept him laid down.
But a female whispered: "She will be fine! She is grown up. And you are neglecting us."
"Oh, you!" He mocked her, his hand caressing that soft muzzle. "You can talk, but Elua is the only woman I care for."
"We know!" They exulted. "We know!"
Elua would normally take refuge at the tower's top. There, she could face a sea of stars and the black shades of woods below. It was raining but her short, ugly fur could take it.
Except before heading up she heard a clamor and headed down.
Not a minute later she rushed back to the room; a warrior had been faster. He was banging on the door, calling for Tunu; she opened without waiting for him.
The champion had got up, asked what was going on.
"It's Etelet!" The warrior started.
"The others are threatening him!" She panicked.
At those words the females still on the bed understood, hurried to put back his clothes and he barely waited for that before running downstairs.
The screams of his friends already filled the tower's interior.
There he was, the shaman apprentice, crouched on the body of a captive wulver whose throat had been opened. Two more captives were trying to take that corpse away but could not, not with Etelet holding it.
The kobel was angry. Distraught and angry. It was rare to see him enraged.
"There was no need! I told you there was no need!"
"It's the rules!" A warrior shot back and turned to Tunu: "Champion, tell him! That captive had insulted us!"
"Shut up!" Etelet screamed and got up. "How could she insult you when you don't even understand her words! Just say you wanted to kill! Say it!"
"Yes! Yes I wanted her dead, so what?!"
It was the warrior's right. For any wrong whatsoever, the chief had decreed that a captive could be executed. If he deemed being insulted, all that could stop him was another kobel.
So Etelet had tried to stop him, Tunu reasoned.
His heart started to beat harder.
"Champion!" Another warrior shouted. "This here is no shaman! He would rather protect that filth than care for us!"
"You too, chief! You can see he is faithless!"
The old kobel, still sit, was watching with a frown. It was hard to read his thoughts, other than that he would punish someone tonight.
Naturally, all the warriors expected it would be Etelet.
And Etelet, feeling the whole crowd against him, only grew bolder under those hostile gazes. If anything he welcomed it, alive like never.
"Cowards! All you bunch are good at is hitting females!"
That crowd had weapons. They drew them at those words.
So Tunu stepped forth and all of them, in an instant, went still. Only Etelet kept screaming, blinded by rage, until he felt that furry palm on his shoulder, the scales on it shimmering under the flames.
"All of you."
Those were his friends, Tunu thought has he began. But all he could feel at that very time was contempt.
"That food, those chairs, the charcoal that lights this room, the iron you hold, it's! All! Him! That captive was his! All you have, all you own, all you accomplish you owe! To! Him!"
They had stepped back. Some dropped their axes altogether.
"Now. Let him talk."
All those warriors, the fiercest among kobels, had words ready to spit at their mouths, but just the sight of that invincible legend held them at bay.
They sat back down in silence while Etelet, still simmering, watched the corpse being taken away.
"There was no need." He forced himself. "There was no need to punish her, there is no need to punish any captive anymore."
He breathed, then gestured for the two black fawns hiding in the room to come out and approach. They brought out an iron collar covered in thin engraved curves.
"We have this now. This collar forces the captive to obey. You put it on. You bolt it. And they will blindly serve us kobels with all they have."
"We don't want that sorcery!" A warrior got up.
Even with the scaled lizard present, it was too much to accept. Another warrior, and then another, rose to stop this treachery.
This was not kobel magic. All of them, all could tell this came from the fawns. And to rely on their art, to discard their own, was as dangerous as it was insulting. It was the last thing kobels wanted from their shaman.
But the chief finally got up.
His fist slammed the table, causing the room to go quiet again.
"Impressive. But why would it be better than just force?"
"Because they live." Etelet said between his teeth. "And if they live, they work. It's what you want, isn't it? For captives to work for us! All your killing does is weakening the tribe! This!" He brandished the collar. "This will bring us more wealth than you can imagine!"
The chief turned around to address the room:
"Who here wants to weaken the tribe?"
"Chief! He is lying! He is lost in savage witchery!"
"He is a traitor!"
"All I hear is fear." He cut them off. "You feared to settle and here we are. You feared to feed and here we are. Where are the fearless warriors our tribe counts on?! What is it you fear this time!?"
"Chief, we can't..."
"We can! We have! And we will! Etelet is the only one seeing clearly here! He has showered you with gifts and all you do is berate him! Who cares what art this is?! We claimed it! It is ours! You should grovel at his feet and beg for forgiveness!"
None answered to that.
There was still ample resistance to the idea of that fawn magic tainting the tribe but with both their chief and champion backing it up the warriors felt no choice but to back down.
Tunu, however, had approached his friend to pick that collar from his hands.
"You're truly incredible." He nodded. "A magic that makes others obey. I can barely imagine."
His praises seemed lost on the young kobel. Etelet was still trembling from his previous rage.
So Tunu turned around.
"How many collars did you make?"
"Three."
And the apprentice gestured again for his two mules to show the other two collars. Each was slightly different from the other, each of heavy iron thinned to a point that they would have made for terrible holds.
"They are expensive to make," Etelet admitted, "but that won't matter. If we grow their tribes, we'll have all the iron we need."
"Those fawns?" Tunu asked. "Did they help you make it?"
"Yes! Yes, they were invaluable. They practically taught me everything."
That question had made Etelet's mood brighten. He had grown passionate again, almost smiling for his friend.
It didn't last.
"Hold them."
The warriors surrounded those fawns, put them on their knees and exposed the necks. Suddenly the crowd understood while the apprentice, shaken, watched in disbelief. And when he saw the females take two collars, the bolts and a hammer, he understood.
"Wait! Wait, they are already obedient!"
"You don't know that." Tunu stopped him. "They are fawns. Prisoners. They might very well have planned to deceive you this whole time.
"No, Tunu, I know them!"
The fawns were bleating. Screaming and fighting. But of course, the warriors held them tight. One collar closed and the engravings pulsed with a sick green.
"Tunu, they are docile! They are friends!"
"And now you'll be certain of it."
They hammered the bolt in place. That first fawn fell to the ground, thrashing. Froth had filled his mouth. The second one shrieked when the collar clicked on his neck.
For a while the kobels watched those captives writhe. But then the fawns calmed. Then, slowly, they got back up. Without anyone holding them back they got up, back on their hooves, and their eyes looked so calm.
They looked... happy.
The chief gave an order, not really expecting them to obey but the fawns, as if understanding kobel language, rose on one leg regardless.
Etelet was shaking.
"What do you say?!" Tunu turned to the room. "Isn't our future shaman amazing or what?!"
"He is!"
"Sorry we doubted you!"
"Come on Etelet! Come drink with us now! The night is still young!"
To them it looked like the young kobel's tears were of pride. Because those collars worked so well, and those fawns were so servile now.
No kobel would have dreamt of such marvel before that night.