The tarp at the top of the tent was kind of yellow. It was kind of old. Those tents were solid though. Or were they? She couldn’t really remember. Nestra lifted her hand. It was kind of bloody, or rather, there was a layer of blood covering an entire side. It looked thin. Was she bleeding? Her arm didn’t hurt. Only her head. “I think I’m bleeding.” “That you are,” a male voice said. “Shouldn’t she be asleep?” a female one replied. “I’m not an anesthetist so this is safer. Cranial trauma. Calculating angles. Keep your eyes on the camera, Weiwei!” “There’s nothing out there, Derek. If they were coming after us…” “Eyes on the camera.” Camille shifted their stance. Nestra didn’t know why they were so defensive. It should be obvious she was just a big friendly demon who was only interested in battle, and thus, completely trustworthy. No shenanigans. Only glorious battle from Nestra, so long as the other didn’t engage in shenanigans themselves or she could get weird. After a while, Nestra tilted her head, which led Camille to relent. “Camille is a gender neutral first name of French origin. Like me.” “One of your parents is French then?” “My father. He joined the Sword King enclave as a blade master. He apparently had a strong interest in eastern sword styles. He was badly hurt in a spar, or so my mother said.” “He was so into fencing and monster killing that he forgot to play the political game. My mom said the wound came as a surprise to him, like he couldn’t understand someone trying to hurt him while they were part of the same clan. He left soon after out of pure disgust, and a bit later, I was born. He doesn’t know I exist. If he still lives, that is.” “Wait, you didn’t search for him?” Nestra asked, a little surprised. She had been curious about her own origins. If Seth wasn’t secretive, she’d be even more so. “He is an exile. A pariah. I was forbidden from looking into his origins and all records have been erased anyway. By the time I got access to Threshold where I could learn more… Mom wouldn’t even tell me his name.” “... before she died.” “...Oh. That must be horrible to be out here as an orphan. I couldn’t imagine…” And now Nestra was sad just thinking about not having a family. “Do you have… any siblings? Half siblings, I mean,” she asked again. “No. My mother could not marry again. No one would have her.” Camille glared at Nestra, as if daring her to comment. “I’ll be honest, the more I hear about the Sword King enclave’s culture, the less I like it.” Camille huffed. Nestra used the opening to ask a question that had been hounding her for a very long time in a desperate bid to change the subject. “So, sorry if it’s a bit insensitive but… gotta ask. Are you a boy or a girl or something else?” A gale of cold wind blasted the portal world, carrying gritty sand under the blood-colored radiance of its distant sun. The crystalline trees shivered, and their branches gave a melodious song of chimes clinking together. “Serious, you’re asking me if I’m a boy or a girl?” “It’s just that I’d like to know if I have to refer to you as he, she, or they in my head. Right now there is an ambiguity, so, if you wouldn’t mind…” Again, Camille looked guarded, as if expecting some sort of jab. When it was clear Nestra was entirely serious, their expression went from defiant to baffled, and then, to just tired. “As most people in the enclave know, I am a intersex. I was born with male and female parts.” Nestra’s glance dipped unconsciously. “Yes, I also grew breasts,” Camille added rather coldly. “I am used to it. To answer your previous question, I prefer they, but since I have been… assigned female at birth, I also find ‘she’ acceptable.” “They it is. Is being intersex the reason why you were sent to Threshold to steal?” Nestra asked. Camille smirked. Nestra was glad to see a smile on this person’s face, even if it was brittle as hell. “Now what gave you that idea?” they asked. “The Sword King enclave doesn’t strike me as the kind of place that likes people who stand out. Even when they are supremely talented. Maybe,” Nestra added as an afterthought, “especially people who are supremely talented.” “Thank you for recognizing my talent. And… I think it might be a series of circumstances.” Their gaze grew distant. They were now wide open, which Nestra took as a mark of trust, which in turn made her feel appreciated. “I have given it a lot of thought over the years of isolation… It might be because I am the patriarch’s grandchild, talented yet unable to continue his dynasty since I cannot have children myself. Maybe it is this talent that makes me a challenge to any potential heir. Or perhaps it is because my father abandoned the enclave after being poorly treated, an uncomfortable reminder that we do not have to put up with that shit if we really don’t want to. Or it could be my mother’s death in a portal world, which shows weakness. Or perhaps it is merely sticking out while also having the mana control and skill necessary to infiltrate Threshold… Or it could be all of those at the same time.” But then, Camille clammed up again. “So they just exiled you? As a pariah?” Camille hesitated, then they sort of gave up, their back arching as if under a great weight. “Yeah. I guess I am. The Elders prefer when I’m either raiding and stealing, and for raiding, I tend to do it alone. And in whatever portal happens to be available even if they do not help push my skills. That way they don’t have to see me, I suppose.” They deflated a bit. Nestra felt bad for Camille. She’d suffered through some difficult moments herself, but at least she’d always had Aunt Claire, and later Stibs. “You know, since you have access to Threshold, you could always pick a gender,” Nestra suggested. “Up to you, of course, but between surgery and hormone therapy, you could absolutely lean towards one over the other. Just don’t ask Shinran for help because he’ll wave his hand and declare you’re exactly how the world meant you to be.” “But I am exactly how I was meant to be,” Camille objected, and Nestra could tell it was a sore topic. “I don’t have a problem with my body or my appearance. It’s the others who get annoyed because they can’t put me in a box, and that’s somehow inconvenient. And for an heir, who cares if it’s my direct descendant? How about picking the best leader instead for a change? And when I reforge my body according to my own image at B-class, all of that nice work will be undone anyway because I am what I am and I’m tired of making excuses.” “Sure. Whatever you prefer.” Camille glared like they expected Nestra to object or something. Nestra didn’t really care. “Why are you interested anyway? Surely, you are not attracted to me, right?” Camille asked after a while. “What? No, I do not sex,” Nestra stated with confidence. “You… do not sex?” Camille repeated. “I do not the sex. Tried it, it was nice but definitely not worth the hassle. Same for partners. My only love is for battle! The blade!” Nestra roared. Camille looked lost as hell, so Nestra decided to tone it down. “Ok, no, I also love my family, my friends, and obviously good food. Oh, and cooking. And… but you get the idea. My interest in you is blade related. You are an artist. A master of your craft. I’m here because of that. Here, with no one looking, you can finally show me all those techniques you were holding back in the previous portal.” Camille chuckled. They grabbed the handle of their estoc, lifting it in a smooth gesture. It was still sheathed, though. “Are you sure? last time, you had a bit of help. Here, though? It’s just you and me.” “I’m stronger. I don’t need anyone to beat your ass.” Camille finally drew, and so did Nestra. Finally. Finally! “Yes!” she exclaimed. “No hidden bullshit, right? No politics? Just you and me in a test of skill?” “Just you and me in a test of skill. Let our blades talk. We can continue exchanging words after.” With a scream of pure happiness, Nestra charged forward. She used momentum to close the distance with a lunge of power and speed, which was blocked by a series of transparent panes of mana. Nestra was pushed back. Meanwhile, Camille looked surprised by the shattered remnants of their defenses. In the moment that followed, both combatants smiled, and then; then both attacked. A whirlwind of precise strikes whistled through the empty air and shattered branches that fell in a glassy snow. It was the deadly dance of two masters on their path to perfection. Nestra had reach and power on her side, but Camille had experience and precision, plus the many panes they manifested all around them. There were so many tumbling blocks, improvised shields, and all around nuisances that prevented Nestra from moving freely though she could somewhat predict where they appeared thanks to her mana senses. Camille was good, but they weren’t there yet. After Nestra smashed through yet another wall, something changed in Camille’s demeanor. Their estoc flashed with enchantments. Resilience, as far as Nestra could tell. “Water Dragon Dance.” Nestra stopped herself from laughing. Who the fuck announced their attacks before — Parry, step back, parry, momentum away. Camille was a hurricane of strikes, each following Nestra where she was going. They were using those mana panels as springboards, Nestra realized. It was all she could do to stay ahead. So fast. Something bit into her leg. She felt pain on her forearm, but managed to push back yet another strike. Camille went low, gathered her strength. Only Nestra’s muscle memory saved her. It was going to be a lunge. Immovable increased Nestra’s defense, but Camille’s blade still pierced through her left palm. She gathered her hand in a fist around the cruel blade, gritting her teeth against the pain. Nestra struck down with a roar. Her void-infused strike smashed through three walls and an improvised pauldron, biting into Camille’s shoulder. The human disengaged to avoid the worst of it. Nestra was left with an estoc in her hand. Quite literally. Camille made a sign. Their mana flared, and the estoc flew into their waiting fingers. They smirked. “Or you can cheat, I guess.” “Sore loser. Show me that bolt of yours.” Nestra obliged. The dot connected with Camille’s chest, then potential called for it to be connected. A black bolt exploded from Nestra’s fingers. Thick layers of mana blocked the bulk of it. Though they couldn’t block the wave of shadow that followed. Suddenly, it was the darkest of nights. Light blue mana dispersed Nestra spell, but her cleaving strikes still destroyed Camille’s remaining defenses in a single blow, and Nestra kicked them while they were open. The low kick sent Camille tumbling on the ground. That was going to leave a nice bruise. Nevertheless, Camille just stood back up and went for Nestra, who let them attack so she could unleash a series of vicious counters. Camille was forced to slow down their attacks which gave Nestra the initiative again, but only shortly. “That’s lame,” Nestra commented between two blocks. The two of them demolished the copse before moving on to open ground. Their attacks dug grooves in the ground, sent shards of shattered stones flying through the air in a reverse hail. Their dance of death was unceasing movement, each one a mirror to the other. Only momentum and savvy bursts of shadow magic saved Nestra. At the apex of her assault, Camille pulled back for a finisher. Nestra used precision to strike at her opponent’s elbow. She drew blood. Camille’s strike sent her crashing on the ground with a deep pain in her ribs. One of them might be cracked. There was some blood as well. “I held back, but that would have skewered you,” Camille said in the following moment of calm. “Not with only one arm, it wouldn’t have.” They smiled, in pain but happy. “We should stop there since you’re about to keel over from blood loss,” Camille began. “And you from mana exhaustion. You need to work on your stamina.” Finally, after several days of imprisonment, Nestra was feeling refreshed. Nestra wanted to rest but hunger came first. As it turned out, Camille agreed. “I haven’t eaten since this morning. Do you happen to have rations?” “No. I only carry my cooking equipment. We could eat the local wildlife though.” Camille sighed heavily. “Well… I’m desperate, so why not?” The pair quickly found a tusked creature hiding in a crystal tree thicket. It was absolutely no match for them. Nestra cut off something that looked like the tenderloin off its flank, then they found some semi-frozen water in a nearby pond. “It’s safe to drink,” Camille explained. “We tested it. The crystal trees burn well too.” “Marvelous,” Nestra replied. She was going to make a stew. Honestly, the meat looked too hard to be pleasantly edible right now. She boiled it first to remove the scum. While they waited, Camille guided her to a few edible tubers that would supplement Nestra’s emergency reserves of mana-rich carrots and onions (two of each). Nestra used a flat piece of rock to prepare the vegetables. In the following moments of quiet, Nestra decided that she might as well get closer to her rival so they would have a long term, sustainable stabby friendship. “So, things have been tough with your people?” she asked after they settled. Camille gave her a measuring look, but then her attention returned to Nestra’s quick knife movements. It was like watching a puppy getting all excited before remembering they’re supposed to growl. That, or maybe it was just natural that someone who’d spent more than two decades keeping their distance from other people wouldn’t magically open up in a single evening. Either or. “Before we get into this, can you tell me why you’re here? Why you’re really here?” they asked. “I’m here to fight you and eat food?” Nestra asked, confused before remembering there was a world outside of the portal. “Oh, you mean the expedition? As far as I can tell, Threshold wants to trade for your steel and accountability for the thefts.” “They know it was me?” Camille asked with some fear. “Yes, and they know you’re from the enclave. I expect some asset recovery will happen soonish. Are you going to warn your people?” “Fuck no,” Camille replied. “But it’s all your hard work. Hard thievery. Whatever.” “Maybe I want to protect my fellow Sword Kings, but I certainly wouldn’t mind if some of them were taken down a notch or two.” “He’s certainly the worst of the lot. I saw him try to trap you in the combat pavilion. Giving that insane bitch Truong a thrashing was the highlight of my week.” “I thought it would be our fight,” Nestra whispered, heartbroken. “The highlight of my week at that time.” Nestra was relieved. Camille shook their head. “Thank you for telling me the reason for your coming. I appreciate your trust. I promise not to abuse it, hmm, unless you plan to murder the people I care about, obviously. To answer your previous question, yes, things have been difficult at home. Grandfather is trying to usher the enclave into the future and he believes it will take Threshold’s help to do so. He believes humanity should be united, and that our lives would be better with some machines to work the fields.” “No shit,” Nestra grumbled. “He means well!” Camille replied, suddenly defensive. They blushed with embarrassment. Their next words felt more hesitant than the rest, a sharp contrast to the confident warrior who had backed Nestra into a corner. “He’s trying. When he was younger, things got… bad on the mainland. The Sword King enclave was meant to be a bastion of strength for humanity, and to a degree, it worked, okay? It worked for a long time. But ông grew older and he could see that only relying on physical strength was, errr, he said it was like going into a small corridor and realizing all the doors were closed. He wants more for us. For the younger generations. Not all of the members of the enclave agree. Many of them think we’re betraying our principles. Tch! What principles? I’m the most talented genius and people won’t talk to me because I have breasts and a penis.” Nestra patted their shoulder. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be casually talking about genitals . And you’re cooking too.” “It’s ok. Did you know that when you eat urchin, you actually eat their genitals?” Nestra smiled. This had to be a great icebreaker. Camille looked amused therefore it must have worked on them. The meat was boiled by now. Nestra tossed the water, cleaned the pot, shredded the meat with her fingers, then set all the ingredients to simmer in a bit of clear water. She added some barley and closed the lid. “Now what?” Camille asked. “Now we wait for two hours!” “You’re serious? Two hours?” “We could wait longer. We have plenty of time to talk! Maybe fight again!” Camille sat on a rock. Nestra wondered if she should scavenge for more stuff while the soup bubbled. Maybe she should slice a steak out of the beast’s neck? Poor Camille looked ravenous. “By the way, Manh is the sort of person who would dare an assassination attempt against me, yes?” “I doubt he would try. It would pretty much be a declaration of war.” “Then who could have tried?” Nestra saw the moment Camille did a double take. She’d forgotten to mention almost dying. Oops? “Someone set up a monster trap in the tent garden. It cracked my mortal form’s skull open.” Camille stood in a panic. She walked to and fro, muttering curses in Vietnamese. Nestra got the feeling this was worse than just political maneuvering. Come to think of it, she was probably taking the attempt on her life rather too lightly. “Fuck. FUCK! Why didn’t you say so before?” “Errr, sorry. Monsters and people trying to kill me have become such a normal occurrence…” “You don’t get it. Manh could be attempting a coup.” “Against a B-class raider much more powerful than he is?” Nestra replied with her doubt on display. “And that B-class raider is now in a portal for a couple of days, not to mention, if you’d been assassinated, what would’ve been Threshold’s response?”