Jotus had just announced Desomos' offer to the three squads. Jotus' entire squad chose to stay with him, as well as most of Pyrus' squad and the third squad. Pyrus said he would have joined Jotus right then and there if he did not have an entire company to command back at the war camp. He knew he needed to go back and do whatever he could to further delay Amentus’ plans. Pyrus knew that his company, the Blade‘s Edge, would follow him without question. They were only as loyal to Amentus as he was. With their help, he knew he could stir up trouble within the camp.
Jotus thanked Pyrus for his help, to which Pyrus replied, "You are welcome, Jotus."
Jotus looked at Pyrus with wide eyes.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to tell anyone," said Pyrus.
"How long have you known?" asked Jotus.
"Since the first night we met, when you came to my tent for a drink. Your lips were very loose that night," said Pyrus, "I did say you were a bit of a weak drinker."
Jotus rubbed his eyes.
"You are lucky it was just the two of us at the time," said Pyrus.
"Who are you?" asked Jotus, "Have we met before? Fought together perhaps?"
"You probably don't remember me, but I fought under your command in the Hodarth Desert. I went by Andor then," said Pyrus.
Jotus looked hard at Pyrus, scrutinizing his face and features. His appearance had changed quite a bit, but, despite the ravages of time, Jotus finally recognized his old friend.
"Andor, is it truly you?" said Jotus, "After all these years?"
"Yes, it is I, though I don't believe I'm quite the same Tatoran that I used to be," said Pyrus.
"You are not the only one," said Jotus, "Tell me, friend, have you kept in contact with the other survivors from our team?"
"No, the few that still live are spread far and wide. The shame of our failure still haunts us all. That is why I had to change my name. It was the only way to rid myself of the stigma," said Pyrus.
Jotus thought about his own life, and how things would have been different if he, too, had assumed a new identity, as he had now. Perhaps then things would have been different for Jotus and Jotan.
"I am sorry, Andor," said Jotus.
"Please, call me Pyrus. I have grown fond of the name," said Pyrus, "And do not be sorry. Any one of us could have fallen into that trap if we had been in command. It was an accident."
"But it was my accident," said Jotus.
"That was years ago, Jotus. There is nothing that can be done about it now. You should not look back on it. How, then, would you be able to see what is to come?"
"You are right," said Jotus, "The past is the past."
"I must go now," said Pyrus.
"I, too, must go," said Jotus, "Perhaps we will see each other again someday."
"Perhaps," said Pyrus, placing a friendly hand on Jotus' shoulder, “Farewell, for now then.”
“Farewell, my friend,” said Jotus.
It wasn't long before the battalion was ready to move. Jotus, with Jotan riding by his side, rode atop his rapt toward Garthora. The Garthorans were both pleased and saddened with the turn of events. Tatorans inherently love to fight. They look forward to the honor and glory won through battle, the stories they would tell their young, and the riches and spoils that would be theirs. They also, however, like to fight a deserving opponent, not a peaceful species that has done nothing to provoke their wrath. Yes, it was with mixed feelings that the battalion made its way from the plains and back into the jungle.
Jotus and Jotan were very pleased with the turn of events. Amentus' plans would now be delayed for some time, and Pyrus was there as an inside-man to finish the rebellion Jotus had initiated. Now, Jotus thought to start life anew with Jotan in Garthora, where no one would know their faces.
Jotus stopped and looked in the direction of Aanthora.
"I will miss Aanthora too," said Jotan.
"This is the furthest you've ever been from your city of birth, isn't it?" asked Jotus.
"Yes," said Jotan, "but not for much longer."
With that, he snapped on the reins of his rapt and it bolted for the tree line. Jotus watched his son for a few seconds. Jotan was a grown Tatoran now. His mane was growing long and thick. Jotus then kicked the side of his rapt and took off after his son.
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