Chapter 10
Light broke through the roof of the forest, a sight blinding those who stopped to marvel at it. Any semblance of peace was destroyed by the screams of a man. Leaves scattered from their nests and fell towards the ground, and neighbouring birds abandoned their nests in fear as shots rang out.
“MY ARM!!! IT’S FALLEN OFF!!!”
One poor sod in a Homefront uniform lay squirming on the ground, his severed arm holding onto a musket laying a meter away. Near him lay a dead comrade, and a dragon’s blood trail. Mirage gritted her teeth while she pulled her rapiers out of another man.
“Search the area, he can’t have gone far!”
She retreated to make sure all the troops heard her. With the battle at its end, her magic wouldn’t be needed anymore. They had recovered just fine from an ambush: The caravan and its goods were all intact, their losses were minimal. Moss and grass had been stained red with the enemy’s effort. It had been lacking, to say the least.
After running and shouting orders, Mirage paused for a moment. That should be everyone, she thought, before pressing on. Rapiers at her side, she channelled energy into her legs to sprint back to the front. All muskets had been holstered; the Justitians congratulated one another on the Homefront lackeys’ backs. All the prisoners were shellshocked, and accepted captivity without further resistance.
As Mirage approached, one man looked up as his hands were being tied. “You… who are you?”
Mirage steeled her nerves, then looked him in the eye. “Does it matter?”
The prisoner sucked in a breath through his teeth. “You… you’re Lokahnian. What's gotten into you?! Why are you doing this to your countrymen? Are you mad, girl?”
In the blink of an eye, Mirage placed one of her rapiers at the man’s throat. “Oh, I was a mere girl, alright. And then my countrymen destroyed my life.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t know half of it if I told you.”
“Traitor!” the man yelled. The imperial soldier next to him raised his hand, then punched him right across the nose.
“Shut it, pig!”
“Thank you,” Mirage said, then kicked the man’s knee. “Golden, coming from a cultist bastard like you. You’d feed us all to those monsters if you had your way.” She furrowed her brow, her hands shaking with an energy that had been repressed for years. “You certainly had no trouble feeding my mom to one!!”
The Frontsman squirmed in a pool of mud. “...What?” he panted. “You’re… you’re lying…!”
Mirage’s heart rate skyrocketed. A deep seated rage surged through her and her weapons at the mere thought. She was there that day. She saw herself how her house burned. How her neighbours burned. How her entire world was reduced to ash by those hoisting that banner.
With a scream, she raised one of her rapiers and ran it straight through the man’s heart, her eyes hidden in a yellow glow.
A gurgle came out of the man’s throat, as blood filled his lungs. Five seconds later, he was gone, much to Mirage’s relief. Her anger subsided, and an uneasy calm replaced it. Death wasn’t unfamiliar to her even at this early age. Her training had specifically featured it. She even had to perform an execution. But this wasn’t anything ordered, nor was it necessary.
Her fellow Imperial troopers were visibly shocked, and the prisoners terrified.
“M-ma’am?! That…” one Justitian choked on his breath. “He had surrendered… I know what you’re talking about but- Goddess almighty!”
Mirage sighed. “Guys, don’t worry about me,” she said with difficulty. “Continue what you were doing, I need some time off to think for myself.”
The forest eerily quiet, Mirage shuffled back to the basecamp, the rest of her troops following behind with the prisoners some time later. It was a harrowing fifteen minutes. Many saw her weapon pierce the Frontsman’s chest. They learned something new today. Something best left unknown.
Back at the camp, Mirage wasn’t in any mood to face the music of her unit. Some tried, but they were rejected firmly by a magic barrier she put up. This wasn’t the time for questions. Or answers. She didn’t have any.
But all actions have consequences, and Mirage wasn’t dodging them forever. She knew they would come. She just wasn’t expecting the consequences to arrive so soon.
“‘Ey. Got a moment to talk?”
Two men walked up to her spot in the camp. Their intent was anyone’s guess. Mirage certainly was left puzzling that together, even though she’d known both of them for some time now. Similar uniforms, similar accents, the same blond hair colour, and both looking half smug and half whatever mood they happened to be in at the time. One had hazel brown eyes like Mirage did, the other green. Like leaves, minus the appeal. She sighed.
Great. Here we go again. “Elias, Gennady… what do you want from me now?”
Elias, the brown-eyed one, put his hands up in feigned surprise. “Whoa there now, don’t be shy! It’s just us!” he said. He’d forgotten that to look surprised, it was best not to have a stupid grin on your face.
And his counterpart, the green-eyed Gennady, didn’t fare that test much better. “What he said. You know we’re here to help you, right? What, you think we’d be off lunching while you climb your way up the ladder? No shot. Still a girl at the end of the day,” he chuckled.
Mirage groaned. “Clearly you want something from me. I might be ‘just a girl’, but if you think I’m stupid, you’d be gravely mistaken.” ‘Wish I could wipe those damn grins off. I didn’t study and get subjected to all that crap at the academy just to get this in my face.’
Gennady shook his head. “Really, we’re just here to talk with you about the battle there. What’s going on?”
She shrugged. “You tell me what’s going on. I’m just exhausted, that’s all. Mentally, that is.”
Elias clicked his tongue. “Yeah… about that. Some pain in the spirit doesn’t normally result in the executing of a man in cold blood, you know. You pull a stunt like that in the Core, and you’d get a one way ticket to the crazy house,” he snickered. “Granted, the guy’s a cultist, so it’s not like anyone’s shedding any tears, but still.”
Mirage looked away into the forest. A red squirrel was scrambling up the trunk of a tall tree. “You act like it’s easy, keeping your cool out here. It really isn’t. Unless you see that differently yourselves.”
“Not at all,” Gennady said. “My mates keep me sane most of the time. But that’s what we’ve been trying to tell you, right? We’re here for you. Ain’t no way anyone’s making it through this whole war all on their own. We all gotta stick together.”
“Ngh!” Mirage gritted her teeth in disgust at that comment. “You say that like I don’t know any better! My whole family’s gone because of this war, and now you want to tell me what suffering looks like?!”
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“Oh, not at all,” Elias said. Mirage couldn’t grit her teeth any harder.
‘Different guy, same line, same nonsense!’ “You don’t convince me. Not one bit.”
Elias shook his head, his hair shining gold from the light coming through the trees. “Believe me, this isn’t about lecturing, or anything like that. You lost more than I could imagine… that’s why we’re trying to calm you down. If we start making ridiculously rash decisions out of the blue, then the chance for you to get that revenge will slip for good. You told the story, yeah? Of your mom? And-”
“First thing I’ve told you about,” Mirage bluntly stated.
“Exactly right,” Gennady continued. “Now my partner here’s talking all about revenge, but I don’t quite see it like that. If you ask me, what we’re doing is respecting who we lost. ‘S another way to look at it. Whenever you stab a dragon, you should think of them. Brother, mom, dad, neighbours, all of them. Imagine them smiling.”
Mirage pondered for a moment, before finally letting out a sigh. “Alright… I get it. Keep a cool head no matter what. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?”
“Not exactly,” Elias said in his partner’s stead. “Take what Gennady said as literal as possible. That every action you take honours the people you care about most. Forget all that talk about Justitia and duty. Think of your people.”
“Alright…” With a deep breath, Mirage opened the door into her deepest thoughts. To the house near the river she once lived in, to the family and neighbours she once had. To those verdant green fields they spent time on…
It didn’t take long for her powers to kick in, and her eyes to glow even her eyelids covered them. Her thoughts were more than just long lost images. They were far too vivid. She longed to reach out, to touch their faces… mother, brother and father. So close to waking from the nightmare, and being with them again.
But the real dream was the one she was in right now. The world in her thoughts was nothing more than that. A thought. A long lost vision.
Mirage’s eyes opened with tears streaming down her face.
“I… I understand. It’s… it’s all for them, isn’t it? My entire life’s been for them, ever since…”
Elias and Gennady both picked a shoulder to lay a hand on. “Hey. It’s okay, alright?” Elias told her first. “We’re here for you, remember. And you’re still here. We’re going to set things right, once and for all, and nothing is going to stand in the way of that.”
Gennady patted her shoulder. “You had to sacrifice everything… and now you long for Justice like no other. You know what the absence of it looks like. And you’re more than ready to bring it to where it needs to be.” He took a deep breath through his nose. “So we can all live in a world free from the horrors you’ve been through.”
Mirage timidly nodded. “Yes… yes. That’s what I do this for. To create a better world. For everyone. Because that is what my mom wanted. And my dad. And my brother,” she said, the golden glow returning into her eyes. “That’s why we have to all stay focused and… not go out of bounds. Like I did just now with that man. Even though he’s with that cult, that dragon cult-” she paused to swallow, “Justitia doesn’t cut down the unarmed.”
“Exactly, exactly!” Elias smiled at her. “Stay calm, alright? If you’ve got anything on your chest that bothers you, doesn’t matter when or where, we’ll be more than ready to help you out with it. We stand as one, isn’t that right?” He looked towards Gennady for a response he should know by heart. Gennady winked at him.
“Stand as one, always. Especially when it gets dark.”
Elias bit his lip. “Yeah. Especially when it gets dark…” he said, then raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of the dark, we’ve still got some ways to cover until we’re at the Citadel, isn’t it? A few days at the very least.”
Gennady groaned. “You mean we’ll still be sleeping in the woods for the next few days? More tents and all that crap?”
“Where else would we be sleeping?” Elias asked in an inquisitive manner. A leaf fell from the trees and passed through their vision. “And why are you complaining about this in the first place? Don’t tell me you’re too good to be sleeping outside all of a sudden. You know what you signed up for.”
Gennady rolled his eyes. “Suuuure.”
A now frowning Mirage tapped her foot to catch their attention. “You know, you guys were talking about staying motivated not even a minute ago, now I’m hearing you bicker about tents. Can you take your own advice and cut that out?”
Elias clicked his tongue. “Yeah. Good idea.”
“Of course,” Gennady said with a shrug. A weak, embarrassing little shrug. Mirage shook her head.
Ugh, I swear they’re like overgrown kids at times. Do you hear me complaining about sleeping in a tent?
With a sigh, Elias fell onto a knee. “Speak of the devil, what are we eating tonight? Bread or stew?”
“Preferably stew. Bread’s been getting stale,” Gennady said, biting his lip.
Elias glanced off to the side. “Yeah, but the stew’s been watery this entire time. I dunno how come no one can cook it right, but I’ve had enough of that crap. Let’s go for bread instead.”
Gennady squinted. “You really are something else. Stew can be tasteless all damn day, at least we’re not gonna snap our teeth on it.”
“Bread’s not going to break your teeth if you don’t chow it down like you’re a crocodile,” Elias said with his hands behind his head, leaning back onto the grass without taking his sword off. Evidently he’d gotten used to laying on the broad side of it, fully armoured at that.
A frown appeared on Gennady’s face afterwards. “What? No I don’t.”
“Really? You look like you’re trying to set a speed record when eating, you meatball.”
“No I don’t. You’re just slow. Potato.”
“Meatball.”
“Potato.”
Elias and Gennady both blew raspberries at one another. Mirage by this point had quite enough of what the two were bickering over: Nothing at all. She let out a shrill groan in response, like she hadn’t had anything to drink all day after dry heaving all night. Too bad throat medicine was so hard to come by.
“Hey idiots, here’s an idea. Why don’t you have both bread and stew? Then you can dip your bread in the stew to make it softer and still have some flavour.” She leaned forward. “Well?”
A quiet ‘oh’ came back. She wasn’t sure whether Elias or Gennady said it; both their lips moved at the same time in the same way. And it wasn’t anything to care about, either.
Yeah. Overgrown kids. Do I have to show them how to tie shoelaces next? Probably! And we don’t even have laces on our boots! Ugh…
* * *
Fields and fields away, the sun shown down upon the Citadel, Lokahn’s ancient capital. The canals and streets were full with people working or getting their basic household necessities, just like always. One wouldn’t guess looking at this city alone that they were in a warzone. But pictures always held more than a thousand words, and you wouldn’t see all of them at first glance. For ‘warzone’, one had to stare into Stefan Sanctullator’s office to truly grasp the severity of the situation.
There he was, the brown bearded general, mulling over a cup of tea while a well past his prime colleague prattled on about the conflict’s recent developments. He watched with feigned interest how his colleague stroked his long white moustache while talking. What a shame he couldn’t roll his eyes back into his head.
Talk about loving the sound of your own voice. Anyone normal would’ve retired to that comfy villa in the mountains long ago. Gallie? Pfft. No chance in hell, of course.
It wasn’t until the topic shifted to something ancient that Sanctullator stopped pretending.
“The crown of Reval?”
“Mhm,” said Gallie, pulling on the ends of his moustache. “With how long you’ve been here, you must have heard of it at some point. And this is all new to you, then I would get started on writing my resignation if I were you,” he grumbled. Sanctullator raised his hand.
“Of course I know. Don’t mistake me for a fool, General Gallie. I’m not one to charge into any situation blind, thus I did my homework before becoming a governor here, thank you very much. That crown is older than most of Justitia’s cities. Quite the storied history behind it.”
Gallie nodded. “Indeed. It is said to contain great power to the one who wears it. It is how Reval supposedly ruled over Lokahn… or something.”
Sanctullator drummed his fingers on his desk. “So the myth goes. Which is why I am doubtful about the use of spending resources to retrieve it.”
Gallie raised an eye at him. “Even when knowing about the full story behind it? Have you lost your mind?”
“No.” Sanctullator slowly pulled himself out of his chair. “You’re forgetting something critical here. Where did this claim of incredible power come from?”
“It’s an incredibly old myth,” Gallie said. “Anyone who would be able to explain its origins is long dead, of course.”
Sounds like it would be right up your alley then, Sanctullator thought to himself. “Yes, but here is what we do know. The same people who originated and propagated it also believe that dragons are divine beings, sent by a divine entity to save the world. What makes you think they have hit the nail on the head here?”
Gallie shrugged with just his shoulders. “True. Very true. Nevertheless… we ought to consider this. The power may not be real, however… it would be quite the moral victory, no? Whoever wears that crown will have a strong claim to the Lokahnian throne. If that is one of us, then the cult will undoubtedly have lost a strong claim to legitimacy. We may be able to roll back the damage they have done these past few years at last.”
Sanctullator nodded. “Yes. There is one problem, though.”
“Which is?”
“None of us are Lokahnian.”
“Pfft.”
Gallie scoffed at the mere notion, a few drops of saliva flying out of his mouth and onto the wrinkles in his face. A few landed on Sanctullator’s desk, uncomfortably close to his hand. He retracted it in disgust.
“That shouldn’t be a problem. Plenty of Lokahnians are not walking around with tainted souls. Any of them would be a suitable fit for the crown, though… we ought to pick wisely. One of the barons, perhaps?”
Sanctullator shook his head. ”I had a different idea in mind. You have heard about the program, yes?”
“The one involving orphaned Lokahnian children?” Gallie asked. Sanctullator nodded.
“Indeed. Fullblooded Lokahnians, aged gracefully fast into fine sentinels of Justitia. They have become masters of Illusionism. Exceptionally strong warriors who are to be deployed on the frontlines. And the valedictorian of the program will be coming to the Citadel shortly.”
Gallie nodded along to what Sanctullator was telling him. “Go on.”
Sanctullator put his hands together. “She is a perfect candidate. Not just to wear the crown, but to retrieve it, as well. No dragon would dare touch her.”
Gallie’s eyes narrowed. “Lokahn’s never had a female ruler before.”
“And? There is a first for everything,” Sanctullator retorted. “Her gender doesn't matter. If even a fraction of what is said about Reval’s Crown is true, then even the hesitant will bend their necks. It is only a matter of time at that point.”
“Fine by me then,” Gallie said, brushing a speck of dust off his coat. “Just to be clear, when is this girl arriving at the Citadel? And what is her name?”
Sanctullator first took a sip of his tea, unconcerned by the dribble that spilled onto his desk by accident. The tea was lukewarm, and he was due for a new desk, anyway. “Within the next week, general. Mark my words. Her name is Mirage.”
“I see,” Gallie said. “Right… I look forward to meeting her, in any case.”
Sanctullator folded his arms under his desk. “Anything else you need to discuss?”
“Quite a few things, actually,” said Gallie, much to Sanctullator’s disappointment. “But before that, I need a cup of tea. You?”
“Give me two cups,” the brown haired general said with a soft groan. This is going to be a long day.