The ground shook, rumbling gently up through his feet and into his hands through the metal of f his weapon. He stood, nervously at the head of fifty warriors, all that remained of the Kalaltach (metal clan). In the early morning light, their bodies shone with that signature sheen that was the reason for their clan's name.

The clan histories detailed the story of their emergence, standing that, once upon a time, the spirits had smithed the first Drev from a lump of silvered steel. Since then, it was not uncommon for a member of their clan to be born with metallic carapace.

Though it seemed the stories of their clan might not be long for this world.

He tightened his fist around the shaft of his weapon nervously glancing down at the double ended weapon, a six-foot shaft with two-foot blades on either end. It was an unusual weapon, one that he had been given by his mother, and her father before her. It was passed down through their family line through the greatest warriors, and during his mother's last breaths she had given it to him.

She had died in honorable combat one week ago leaving him as their family's protector. Not that there was really anyone to protect anymore. He was the last of what remained of his family and their tribe was dwindling quickly. The fifty warriors standing behind him were what remained of their once proud clan. It was not the death of his family or even the death of his clan that gave him such sadness. He was happy for what might happen. Either they would triumph, and stories would be written about their victory, or a stronger clan would take what remained.

No he was simply disappointed that he might not live to see the future.

Tanatach. The clan from the north. The clan of the sky.

The clan that was going to beat them. It didn't surprise him, they had some of the best warriors on the fertile belt, and the most land and the most Drev.

As he stood staring out over the moss, he felt the volcano rumble again, felt it roll up through his feet. Glancing to his side he could see a gentle stream of ash and smoke pouring from the open mountain top painting the sky with thin ribbons of smoke. Turning his head towards the horizon he looked out over land he hand known since his childhood. He saw the coiltrees and the colorful moss, and the bulb fruit that was just ripe enough to bloom.

And he saw the approaching line of Drev, their armor glinting in the morning sun light rolling over their spearheads.

"Warriors!" Lanus called, and the Drev behind him took up his call.

"We meet them in the middle, and if we die today, we go to the spirits!"

There was a cheer behind him, one of both nerves and excitement.

Lanus bowed his head, thinking of his mother, and his father, and his sisters and his brothers. Hopefully, their spirits were with him.

Slowly, he lifted his head and looked up rising his weapon and beginning a slow jog down the small incline and towards the waiting army. The slow jog turned into a run, and that run turned into a sprint. His cape billowed behind him, and his weapon was raised as he let out a cry for battle.

In response to their movement, the other Dreb broke into a run as well, battle partners sprinting alongside each other as they came to clash under a pristine blue sky. Weapons clattered, carapace split, and cries of pain rent the air. Lanus spun, his blades cutting with precision through the air just like his mother had taught him.

He was going to make her proud.

White moss spores were kicked up into the air. Metal flashed and capes billowed past. He spun on the spot taking out two of their warriors with a single sweep of his weapon. They fell to the ground cradling severed tendons, and he turned again spearing a flanking Drev through the throat. Inside, his heart sang with the battle, and the roar of the steel. Metal clashed against metal as a blow glanced off his helm, but he turned and speared that Drev through the chest

His nerves were fading away, and as he fought he found himself in a bubble of complete calm where lived nothing but his own focus. He spun and whirled like the ash during the dark season spreading destruction everywhere he went. All around him bodies fell blood spilling in orange rivulets over the moss, pooling in the rocks and divots where they made slipping hazards for the remaining warriors, but he kept his focus.

Looking around he could see the others of his clan holding their own, pushing back a tide of enemies.

Perhaps there was a chance they would win.

At least that was what he thought until she appeared.

She was a force of nature, as tall as he was, and with gleaming purple carapace like the night sky infused with Amethyst, and when she fought she brought the storm with her, lighting and ashfall as she roared up over the rise, taking on three opponents at once, and winning. Her head was held high, and the battle cry she gave was a pure note of bloodlust that turned his blood hot.

If he was to allow her to continue, they would not win.

Backlit against the sky she turned to face him, and they locked eyes across the battlefield, gold to orange. They both knew what was coming, and so did everyone else. Groups of combatants parted as they walked towards each other, their weapons held at the ready, and it was only upon approach did he realize how young she was.

No older than him, and without battle partner.

His hands tingled numbly.

She was no older than he was.

They paused a few paces from each other and she lifted her chin to him. He did the same back, unable to avid noting her body, her carapace, her face, and her eyes.

She was beautiful.

Perhaps the most beautiful Drev he had ever seen, made all the more so as she dropped into a ready stance, which he mirrored quickly. They circled for a moment sizing each other up. The steadiness of each other's step, the way they held their weapons, everything.

He knew her, and she knew him.

They came together with one mighty clash of weapons trying to force each other back by sheer force instead finding themselves locked tightly together unable to move. She snarled, and he responded trying to sweep her sideways, but she caught him and threw him back. He came in again weapon whirling and snapping like the flowing of water. She countered him similarly, but with even more ferocity, like the licking of fire.

Capes billowed and whipped back and forth, tore and shredded. Their feet danced over the ground as the sun grew high, and ever moment it seemed as if one of them would gain the upper hand, they were thwarted, and the fight began again. All around them lay the dead and dying. His clan slowly dwindling, whittled down to the last remining warriors. Many of the combatants had stopped to watch the last remaining fights, and Lanus, only half aware of what was going on realized something.

This was a test.

To weed out the week, separate the ripe from the rotten.

She tried taking momentary hold f his distraction, but he caught her and threw her back. Both of their sides heaved with exertion, the breathing holes at her neck expanded and contracted with great heaving gasps, frothing slightly with effort.

He backed away up a small hillock, and she followed him, their weapons shedding sparks onto the stone. He threw her back but she came again, she swept his feet out from under him, but he recovered to quickly. The battle went on and on, ferocity slowly draining to exhaustion, until neither of them could lift their weapons anymore.

They both knelt weapons locked, staring into each other's eyes, heaving great gasping breaths, unable to move.

She was the first to speak.

"Join us, you do not need to die today. Join us and the rest of your clan will live. Your warriors will be our warriors."

He paused looking into her face, turned to see others still doggedly fighting away, only ten or s remaining from the original fifty. He shivered, feeling pressure on his chest, and looked down to find one of her lower hands placed against his skin. Where her fingers met, he felt fire.

He turned his head back to look up into her eyes.

"Stay, with me."

He was taken aback for a moment by her forwardness, the brashness of.... A battlefield brawl turn.... What was this? But still, despite how unorthodox, he felt his entire body go warm.

"I don't even know your name." He said, though his voice was more teasing than it was offended.

Her golden eyes burned, "Kazna, and you are?"

"Lanus."

"Lanus." She rolled the name around inside her mouth, like she was eating a coil tree berry, " that is a name I could get used to saying."

She disengaged their weapons then, standing and taking his arm in one of her hands turning her head to the sky and letting off the battle cry that shook him down to his bones and stoked the heat inside his body into an inferno. Across the battlefield her people stopped, pulling away from the remaining fighters who collapsed in exhaustion.

"The fight ends here! Join us, you have proven yourselves worthy."

There was a pause, while the clan looked to him for an answer. He didn't even have to speak, their linked arms saying more than words needed to.

Leading him forward, she brought him down through the ranks of her warriors, speaking with each of them by name, and personally, pulling aside to learn the names of his own clan, to welcome them. She was no sentinel, but he learned a great general, and as he watched her, he grew to admire her more and more.

She was a great leader, hard and harsh at times, but protective of what was hers. She was probably the most tactically minded Drev he had ever met, and it became clear that even with half of her forces, he would never have been able to win.

Kazna never did anything halfway, and when he finally took her to the circle without weapons they fought until the sun was down and neither of them could move. He had never felt such deep and abiding admiration for anyone in his life, feeling like he was the luckiest Drev in the world, when she let him hold her in his arms, or she did the same for him.

He fought by her side as her second in command for what must have been years, growing with her as her confidence only grew, and her skill increased. She was proud, and now without flaw, but neither was he.

Sitting in their small moss roofed hut, he sat holding a tiny shape in his arms. A small hand flailed up at his face, and he took it watching as the tiny fingers gently curled around his. His carapace was red like an cinderswind moon. The door across the room opened and Kazna stepped in, her chin high her golden eyes bright as she turned to look at them. The expression on her face was one of tender pride as she stepped forward.

"My two favorite Drev in the same room." She said, walking over to kneel next to him, resting her forehead against his. Below them the tiny creature chirped softly. She turned her head down, reaching out with a finger to stroke his cheek, "So strong, and beautiful."

"You know what day it is?" Lanus said

Kasna turned to look up at him, "How could I forget."

Warm bubbles fizzed through his blood, "The first lunar maker.... And you know what that means?"

"We have to choose a name." She reached out and plucked the kit from his hands lifting him into the air to examine him. The Kit opened its mouth and chirped softly before trying to nip at her hand. She laughed, "How about Dinar or Ladinar for the color of his carapace."

Lanus tapped his foot on the ground, "No.... something more grand I think/"

"Something more grand?" She paused, "Hmm Kan.... No... Kanan."

Noble.

Lanus stood and looked the kit over, "Kanan, yes, yes I think that is grand enough."

She turned to beam at him holding the kit in her arm as she hurried forward wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. Her voice was soft when she said, "This is just the beginning lanus, you and me until the sun sets and our blood paints the stones." She pulled back eyes burning, "We will have dozens." She spun Kanan around, and he chirped happily head lifted. "As many as we can, a Dozen tiny warriors."

He laughed, "A dozen?"

"Or more!"

He shook his head in astonishment.

She turned to look at him, "This is all I have ever wanted Lanus. The perfect life, a strong battle partner," She looked down, "And stronger children."

He walked over and took her hand, "And you will have both." He smiled

"Until the sun sets and our blood paints the rocks."