A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

With an explosive twitch, the curly-haired youth dragged the goblin over his shoulder with a single arm, forcing its weight towards an alarming speed, tossing it just as he had the one before it. But now, he had a hand to guide the direction. He didn't move to throw it far, he instead moved to throw it hard, and sent it hurtling hard into the snow.

The goblin landed flat on its back, the wind thrown out it. It said something about the strength of the throw when a creature that erratic and full of movement was left lying still from it – and that was on snow.

Kaya lost himself in the frustration. He'd already embarrassed himself fully, as far as he could tell. No one else would struggle with the goblins like he had, he was sure, but he didn't know what to do. The spear felt foreign in his hands despite all the practice with it.

By some sort of wild look, the goblin still wasn't moving. It groaned on the floor, but it didn't launch itself back to his feet. That allowed Kaya an opportunity – there were only three to deal with now. But what could he even do about that fact?

"Oliver," came a woman's voice. Claudia's. She recognized Kaya's endeavour, that want for progress. That crippling desire that a man had when he simply couldn't tolerate who he was anymore.

Golden flecks swam around the edge of his figure, as though to highlight him. Oliver watched it, mesmerised, seeing a desperate battle, as the golden light swam towards Kaya's heart. Some flecks stayed, adding to its glow. Others were let loose, as Kaya was unable to hold onto them. Others still came closer, but were never fully grasped. They disappeared again, into the wave of potential.

By all the Gods, Oliver could feel it. Though Kaya was a little older than him, it felt as though he was looking at a younger version of himself, desperately looking for something greater than he was, a way of dragging himself up from the mess of his current position.

"Oliver," Claudia said again. "Help him."

So she said. Oliver heard her words, as though they were spoken right into her ear, and he heard Ingolsol comment on them, but his voice was as faint as a whisper in that moment. This was Claudia's realm, and her voice rang true for it.

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She said it, and Oliver would have rushed to do something about it, but what could he do? He wasn't Kaya.

"You can see," Claudia told him. "He's your retainer. You can give him the spark that he needs to build a bonfire, if you dare to lead him."

Dare to lead him? Oliver frowned hearing that. He thought he'd already dared. Back in Solgrim – that was when he'd first dared. He'd taken up the leader's mantle daringly, and he hadn't looked back since. Was Claudia saying this his commitment was insufficient?

That he'd merely been pretending to lead?

There Kaya was, struggling. He attempted to fend off the remaining three goblins with his spear, a look of utmost frustration on his face as they danced around him. His spear shot out, but it was to no avail. There was no hope with the weapon for him that day. No little treasures for him to unlock. Oliver could feel that almost as painfully as if he was the one wielding it.

"Remember," Claudia urged him. "The fire's about to go out."

Soon enough, Kaya's frustration began to fade, replaced by defeat. He didn't have the stamina to go on anymore. His forehead was coated in sweat, and his face had gone as red as always. He knew that he looked a mess. A hopeless mess. He imagined the way the others were looking at him at his back, with looks of barely concealed second-hand embarrassment.

He guessed it, because he'd seen such looks before.

Pauline – even she wouldn't be able to contain herself, as kind-hearted as she was. Amelia would already be smiling, barely holding back a laugh. She would tease him.

Those golden lights that had swam to him now began to fade away, one by one. The zone of potential slowly but surely began to disappear.

"Remember!" Claudia urged again, as if it was her that was losing. The ever-compassionate God, even if she was but a fraction of her.

Remember… Remember what? The day that he'd led, when it had all begun. When he'd had to dare… There had been more significance to than position, and title. It wasn't because he was a noble, not like now. People didn't serve him because of his birth rank. They served him out of respect.

There had been a connection between them because of that, an intense sort of connection, where the lines that separated them were blurred to an intensity that was uncomfortable.

'Ah. That,' Oliver realized. He'd been avoiding thinking about it, subconsciously, because it was a difficult thing to do. To contain allow a subject to connect with his Commander so entirely that he almost became the man, that was a weight on his soul, and it had drained him that day, just as it had drained him when he returned to Solgrim and he felt the remnants of that connect.

But who was he to decline a retainer in need, merely out of discomfort? Kaya was struggling to reach higher. What kind of man would he be if he had the capacity to see him shine more brightly, and he denied him those tools?

He grit his teeth, and clenched his fist, allowing the discomfort to wash over him, as a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face, despite the cold air. Who was Kaya, and wht did he want? What was this power that he was reaching for? It didn't lie in the spear. No light appeared any time that he swung it. No, the light had come when he'd used his hands…

There was something there. The image of Kaya. Clumsy, but strong for his size. Gods, his hands were big, weren't they? Why hadn't Oliver noticed that before? Unlike his cousin Karesh, Kaya hadn't been born with stupendous height.

He didn't even really have broad shoulders. He was only a half inch taller than Oliver, but his hands were nearly one and a half times as big, and there was a weird wiry strength to him, and explosiveness.