“Femi! Where is your brother, you little rascal?” his mom picked the lost brother, crawling on top of the roof of their house. “Don’t you have something better to do? I swear, by the time you’re four, I’m going to find you atop those mountains,” she looked behind, the looming mountains a short distance away from the city of stone.
The soldiers gathered the three future soldiers, it was noon and people were on the fields, working hard after a night full of dance and booze. “Lord Keneok has offered us a good ship to leave for Thranes. We told him we have around three hundred soldiers, but still offered us a larger ship, so you can bring along most of your ‘things’,” soldier1 said.
“I will bring all four hundred then, and I will send Omega on its way. Do you have any spot or place I could leave Omega?” Amel asked him, packing the little things he had in his pockets, and preparing to infuse his mind again with light.
“I think you can only leave it outside of Thranes, in the forests nearby. Otherwise, Hran himself might try to bring it down,” soldier2 responded instead. Amel figured as much, just had to be sure since his mind still wasn’t adjusted to a lack of light inside of it. Femel felt great after his sleep, the effect of the booze and ale he drank, washing away quickly.
“Let’s not linger around then, I can’t wait to see Thranes,” Femel said enthusiastically. Ermel couldn’t reciprocate the feeling. He was a farmer at first, then bandit. Fighting wasn’t his stile, and he didn’t like the thought that he would have to train. But he wanted to stay by the side of these two brothers, so he agreed with a light nod. Amel was getting busy with his light. He wanted to have his mind ready the moment they were going to step foot on the ship.
“Very well then, let us leave for Thranes. Say your goodbyes to the beautiful Kinlakes, once we leave, only the Creator knows if we will return alive,” harsh words, but true nonetheless. Even for these two brothers, the war ahead was no small task. The armies of the Foolish King were literally out of this world. Monsters and beasts, creatures of unknown, corrupted bodies and souls, haunting the area surrounding Mouner. And the seemingly impregnable fortress that held those beasts inside. If they were to get inside, then only horror would await them. Amel knew it wouldn’t be easy, but that’s why he built Omega and Alpha. While Alpha wasn’t operable until he could make adjustments, Omega should be the construct to bring him a large enough achievement to give him and his brother forgiveness from their crime. And for Ermel, he had the whole army of eight hundred strong constructs. If one of those constructs was as strong as one of Thrane’s soldiers, then that would boost their forces by some.
The group made their way to the ports. On their way, Femel was bombarded by girls bringing him gifts. The woman whom he asked to be his, kissed him on the cheek shily, her husband letting her, happy to see that he could shake hands with someone like him in exchange. Amel would keep people away from him with his constructs, but the kids would prove troublesome and start touching his things by sneaking around. Ermel stood a bit behind, so to not attract attention. The constructs started to make their way through the city and onto a bunch of ships. The people of Winlakes would be the first ones to see these constructs gathered in such a proper manner. To the group of five, this didn’t feel like a simple departure, but rather, a goodbye for war, as if tomorrow would have to put their lives on the line. The two soldiers enjoyed the spectacle people put up for them, with cheering voices and thrown goods. While it hurt a little to be hit by them, if you caught some of them, they would prove either valuable or useful.
Keneok watched from his fields the departure of those five and the army of constructs. He waved his hand at them. The only one who noticed him was of course Femel. His eyes make out his tall shape. He waved back, which Keneok could see amongst the crowd. They went on the ship, the constructs following behind, some filling the one they were on, the rest spreading across twenty other ships. The soldiers taking those three to Thranes, felt more like personal escorts, rather than recruiters, their role dwarfed by the level of magnitude those two brothers carried around with them. And it was barely half of it, as the rest of the constructs, Omega at the lead, were heading straight for Thranes, preparing a grander entrance. Even so, the two accompanying the other three, felt as if part of something greater, something that was going to perhaps even change their country, who knows, perhaps even the world as a whole. Those thoughts weren’t far from the truth.
Once the ships sailed away from the ports, and the cheering of people faded in the distance, the ships started to catch speed in the winds of the sea. Femel didn’t waste a moment, and went up to the ship’s very tip front. He held by a sail at his back, as he let the wind blow through his hair and face. He could breathe it, the winds of the sean, and thus, the sea itself invaded his body. He felt a great sense of liberty through it. As if, if he was left all alone there, he could wander all around the world and back.
Amel sat down on the deck, he didn’t have much time before they would arrive, since by tomorrow morning, they would bethere. So, he let the light get inside his mind once more, the feelings which surfaced in Winlakes, finally going back in the deep layers which he left them at. It took him a couple of hours, but the system was back in place. He could once more filter all the information coming from the constructs and will them individually to their different tasks in mere fractions of a second. He would then start to anticipate once more all that was there. From each construct’s perspective, for their current situation, and what happened in Winlakes, he started to account for it all in order to construct a clear image of might occur. One vision that would come from the countless which he produced, was that of them arriving in Thranes, and their lives taken from them before setting foot in. It was the culmination of multiple, highly improbable scenarios crashing and morphing into one giant unlikely thing to happen.
While he didn’t worry too much about it, he recalled upon the last time he had one such improbable scenario, and like before, kept it at the back of his mind, just in case anything may happen.
The ships traveled fast, the constructs not being too heavy or too light, just around the same weight as a normal human. As night would start to engulf the Beyond Sea on which they travelled, different nocturne marine life would come to life. Most was hard to see, only Femel being able to distinguish their shapes properly, while other was surfacing to start their praying tactics of birds. One known fish was the bird fish. As the name implied, it liked to consume birds. It would do so by pretending to be dead at the surface of the water. Their body, while smaller than that of the bird, was packed with muscles. When a bird would try to snatch it from the water, the fish would bite upon its leg and start struggling until the bird fell into the water, and eaten by it and other nearby fishes. Amel would watch the behavior of these fishes, note inside his mind, then sleep for a little while. Femel would stay up at night to watch the stars, sea and whatever fishes surfaced.
If he was born a sailor’s son, he was sure he would’ve explored places so far from the lands of humans, that it would look like different worlds. He started to daydream while watching the start. The night passed by in a blitz, and Amel was having his constructs reach Thranes in two weeks. He made use of some instructions from the soldiers, and managed to create a perfectly optimal path for them. Soldier2 helped him as thanks for saving his life and replacing his foot with a simple construct, acting the job for him. With that, he could let the cut straight through the forests, and reach Thranes before even them. It would take three weeks for them to arrive, as the ships only shortened it by six days. It would still good, especially since they could stop into other cities along their way. Shoranes was of interest to Amel, who heard some things about the City of Trades. For some time he thought about the appliances of his light, and how they could be furthered. One way he thought it would boost his abilities to a higher degree, was if he had a light channelling tool. If possible, he would like to bring to life constructs from distance, and maybe even learn how to manipulate other elements, like he heard the Lightborn were able to. It was sufficient to say that while Winlakes was what Femel could enjoy to the fullest, Amel would be far more curious about Shoranes.
And while they didn’t want to use the money they stole, Amel really wanted some materials and tools. He wasn’t able to construct or work upon his constructs, which was something he would find refuge into. So making even small ones would bring him great joy. Femel could see his brother’s devilish smile. He was thinking on how to procure the stuff for him to make more constructs and perhaps something else. He wasn’t concerned. If Amel thought it was good and safe to do, he would go along. Femel was looking forward for Shoranes too, not as much as Amel, but to some degree. There were rare weapons and armours there. He had heard that some were brought even from Sedessi, where the Sunborn made the best and greatest weapons, armours, tools and such.
After a few more hours, they would finally arrive in the eastern port from Shoranes. There was still three days of travel between that port and Shoranes, so once they got off the ships, they started travelling. They only took small glances at the different shops from the town where the ports were at, then moved on. Amel’s constructs allowed them to move without needing constructs, and given that they weren’t tiring, they could go for a full day without issue.
“Why didn’t you use those before we bought the horses?” soldier1 asked.
“You seemed willing to do it, so who I was to stop you from doing so?” Amle asked back rhetorically. The soldier didn’t like the casual tone he kept at him, he was his superior still, even if Amel could harm him in a variety of ways if he deemed him as a nuisance. He was confident though, that once in the capital, not even these two would be able to act like they own the world, as the soldiers started to recover from the high they had taken part into while in Winlakes.
“J-just tell me next time if you have something like this available,” he frowned but couldn’t deny the utility of these constructs. By some estimations, the soldier was expecting them to arrive a couple days earlier. But Amel already calculated the speed, distance and worked with the map in mind, they would be one week early, and that would bring them up to speed with the other half of the constructs. This was especially good, since he wouldn’t like to have half his forces lingering around Thranes, where if spotted, they might be hunted and destroyed. Or worse, Omega would act and start killing the soldiers instead, prompting a larger escalation.
The original plan was for them to head for the city Onestes, the Thranes. While it would be the longer path, they would have better spread out resting points. But, since they would travel at a constant high speed on the constructs, they would instead go for Zeranes, which was further away, but closer to Thranes. On their way to Zeranes, which took two weeks, they had to fight some beasts that were roaming the planes. Amel’s constructs would make short work of them, coordinating with them and avoiding needless fights, the beasts wouldn’t short they road by any measure, as they would be dealt with before they could even catch a glimpse of any. The soldiers remained impressed by Amel, who showed, thanks to his light infused mind, high skills of coordination between the troops he controlled and the terrain at hand. It was as if they watched one of the generals at work.
Finally, at the end of the second week, they would arrive in Zeranes. Coming close to the city, they would see one of the first major differences between the other two kingdoms they’ve been so far: walls. Thranes was starting the building of wall for its two main cities in the west. So that if the war would fail, people would have places to keep themselves safe between. This wasn’t a surefire strategy, but was better than leaving the cities naked for an attack. Up north in Opeldes, the same was being done for their cities, except for Astes, which was in part protected by some Lightborn.
As they approached the in work gates, guards stopped them. It was the first time this happened. This was a new system implemented by Hran, so that those which entered, could be verified in their knowledge base of criminals and such. Amel and Femel attracted suspicious eyes, but given that they were there to enroll in the army, and the two soldiers explained to the guards the circumstances, they were let through. Amel would have to leave his constructs outside the city, and wait for him on the other side.
Once inside, Amel, Femel and Eramel saw the differences from this city and Shoranes. Their houses were built shorter, but larger. If something large was to be thrown at them, only specific parts that were hit, would be at risk of falling, the other supporting themselves independently. It was through the efforts of Mou and Hran’s growing expertise in warfare, that gave birth to this new design. Going deeper inside, the there of them would notice the harsh looks on the people’s faces. They were trained, vigilant and careful of their surroundings. It was a state of doubt which Hran wanted over his people, so they wouldn’t grow complacent with the state of things. And with the war lurking just around the corner, these people wouldn’t want to seem weak in front of other kingdoms, that were relying on them to raise the proper armies. Femel grew interested in the way these people were educated and trained, while Amel wondered if he could take the city over with his constructs. It seemed feasible with careful enough planning, but he didn’t have the time for it. The reason he was thinking like that, was because if Mou was to be anywhere in Thranes in the following months, and would without a doubt want his head given the problems and crimes he cause in Amouldes, he could gain a bargaining chip in front of the First Six. It was the last resort of the last resorts, but he had to consider it.
The soldiers guided them to an inn near the other side of the city. Zeranes was large, even if there were less people, the city stood the same. And they would have to leave early if they wanted to reach Thranes exactly a week before the scheduled date. This was in order to announce their general of the failure to recruit at least a hundred men, and prepare the others for the wave of constructs that would come. They didn’t know what the constructs will arrive at the same time, since Amel told them they are still a distance away. He wanted to give the generals and maybe even Hran, the same shock he gave these soldiers. While he was sure to surprise the generals, Hran was a different being altogether. He saw the rise of these kingdoms with his own eyes, fought beasts so large, it would be hard to believe they even existed, if not for Tserkepos, who was far exceeding even the tales of these monsters. Even so, the generals were more than enough for him, so the soldiers couldn’t know of that.
Once inside the inn, they would be greeted by a lovely lady, then given room. Amel and Femel in one, Ermel and the soldiers in another. As the soldiers thought it would be good to leave those two alone, and Ermel was in agreement. Especially since he thought Amel had a plan, and would need the soldiers away and watched over while they talked. As Ermel guessed, Amel wanted to tell Femel his plan. He explained that his constructs would lay in wait inside Thranes. After he will bring the other half of constructs, those already inside would show up. And to top it all up, Omega would show from outside one of their walls, a small distance away from the city. So that he could show those generals and Hran, that he was worth the trouble.
Femel thought of it as a good idea for Amel to show his power, but he wanted to show himself strong too. He wanted to get recognised by Hran or at least some of the generals. Amel understood his wishes, and while he would’ve liked to just go with his first plan, he adjusted it so his brother could shine in the eyes of those people as well. So, Amel would make a bold announcement that him and Femel are the strongest two people, besides Hran, in all of Thranes. If Hran II was there, then he wouldn’t step up to contest, that was sure, and Hran would definitely not let it slide. So he would send one or more of his generals. That way, Femel could show his skill in battle in front of everyone.
Femel liked his plan and agreed to it. What he didn’t know was that, in case one of the generals proved too much for him, he would have some special constructs ready to balance the fight in favour of him. While they were talking their plans, below the floor, a deep, hard voice could be heard arguing with the inn keeper. Amel sent a small construct to see what’s going on. But before it could send information, it would be caught by something and destroyed. Amel didn’t like it, so he went down with Femel, see who dared destroy his precious creation.
Then, when he climbed down those stairs, he saw a tall man, with a rough black cloak around his neck, darker hair, rough beard and a giant sword on his giant back. “Hran Thranes,” Amel said. Hran turned towards the two brothers, and didn’t need more than a moment to recognise them, even after twelve long years.
“Kids!” he cried. He hurried towards Amel, took him up in his arms and hugged him. “I’ll be damned, you grew so much, friend,” his words warmed Amel’s heart. Femel stood awkwardly behind, looked at the tall man who reminded him of Keneok. Hran placed Amel down, then took a look at the taller brother. He grabbed his arm, felt his muscles, then placed his hands on his shoulders, see how large they were and how they reacted to the pressure. “What a fine man this one is,” he then hugged Femel too. Femel knew who Hran Thranes was, his brother told him. He just didn’t expect him to be true to the description. ‘A three metres tall man, with a giant frame and a large weapon.’.
Once they said their salutes and exchanged some more words, Amel and Hrand would sit at a table. Femel didn’t feel like he was part of it, as if he was some third wheel to a cart. But Amel insisted him to stay with them, he would hear some valuable information from a man such as him. Amel first asked him about Mou and how it went.
Hran showed him a large wound across his chest. Suffice to say that, while he argued for the boys, Mou would hear none of it, and that wouldn’t be from the first discussion, but from a talk some years after. Apparently their reputation reached Mou’s ears and made him break one of his constructs in his rage. Knowing that there was no way for Mou’s forgiveness, he started persuading his father, Hran the Mighty. That would prove troublesome, as Hran didn’t want to argue or even fight Mou over a boy he didn’t know. While Hran tried to explain just how valuable he might be to the war as a whole, Hran still didn’t think it was worth fighting over, so he shut him down. Then Hran would look for the other kingdoms, that might need a boy such as Amel. None would want to hear of it, especially since Mou was providing them with certain materials that helped them rebuild the kingdoms. Try upsetting him, and all of a suddenly you would have a dwindling supply of materials.
Hran then spent his time gathering some other peculiar people, of which some were in Thranes, serving in court or the army, while others were in the world at large, going places humans haven’t travelled before. Amel then asked about the war, how it was progressing and how soon it was expected to be. Hran told him that his father and the other First Six, were planning launching the attack earlier, one month from this point on, as the Foolish King had caught wind of it, and was preparing something. While it wasn’t optimal for their armies, the fact that Amel arrived in Thranes, meant that the war might tip in their favour, Hran told him. Amel believed so as well, especially with Omega at their side. He thought that maybe getting Alpha might be worth the risk, since the army would have one less month to prepare. Hran apparently had heard of his Omega from other people. The appearance in Amouldes, had made people curious of its maker. Hran was heading towards Thranes to tell his father just about that, coming from the Sedessi Dessert where he drove negotiations with the Sunborns to give them better weapons. Amel asked about some of those weapons, and Femel started to pay closer attention. Apparently they got a hundred finely crafted weapons, and would be given to the most prominent soldiers in the following month. With that in mind, Femel knew what to aim for, and set his goal in mind. Amel wanted something more practical, so he could amplify his powers. While it was sad to hear that that wasn’t the case amidst all those weapons, it still provided joy for him to know that his brother found himself some other goal, besides the large ones.
Hran then asked Amel a few things. First, about his constructs, how many was he able to make and gather from all these twelve long years. Amel didn’t want to lie to Hran, but also didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Femel answered in his stead for this one, so he could cover for him, as he sensed his brother’s unease. Hran would stand amazed by the four hundred strong, and the one described as Omega. Hran then asked about his goals, if it was all about vengeance still. To which Amel would respond with “no, we plan to build a kingdom after we’ve defeated Umshaow. Keneok even promised Femel that would help us with it.”. Hran found himself happy that these kids found some other goal beyond vengeance.
After he was satisfied with his answers, Hran drank a few more drinks and took his leave. While he would like to spend more time with them, he had to tell Hran of this. The capital would be in an uproar, and the word that Amel and Femel came to the aid of the King, would send waves of intrigue and upset amongst everyone.
The two would discuss about what they wished to do, Amel with his sights upon killing the two enemies and building the kingdom, Hran II with his plans to make the whole Domaire a much better armed and militarised place, as he could sense the times of a different kind of battle approaching at a fast pace. Hran II couldn’t tell for sure, but something, somewhere out there, took seed in their world, and he was sure that whatever it was, it wasn’t something good. It sought destruction.
Femel, listening to their talk, could see what Amel meant. From Hran II, he was learning about places which he might never see in his life, things yet he would have to experience and knowledge that would invaluable to most, except to Amel, who was walking the kind of path none would dream of. After their talk was over, and they shared drinks, Hran took his leave, wanting to let his father know of the arrival of this great boy, who was more of a man, and his brother.
Femel thanked Hran II for his knowledge and talk, to which Hran II responded with a brief smile, since he saw the boy as one of his own, and wouldn’t need his thanks, he would’ve done it anyway. After his leave, Femel felt a new kind of feeling inside of his chest. The fatherly love which he never could remember, was emanating from Hran II. And while their meeting had been brief, it proved of high impact to this young man.
The day would pass by, and they would go around the city, see how this region of Thranes was. Walking around the city, they would pass by many shops selling armours, tools and weapons. Provided by Amouldes in exchange for their smithing, Thranes would see no shortage of ores. And given the policy of the kingdom for each citizen to carry a weapon at all times with them, for they never knew what the Foolish King might up to, it was no surprise that there were so many shops around the city. Travelers would also buy gear from here, as there was only Thranes who had better quality weapons and such. Femel would go around, snooping to see which would be most to his liking, and after seeing Hran’s giant sword, he was thinking of buying one such himself. But he would find none, since unbeknown to him, Hran’s weapon was from a far away place, beyond the tall mountains, where the best smiths of the world were found. He didn’t have any money of his own anyway, so Amel would remind him to keep himself away from all those shelves, before he snatched one and got them in trouble.
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Finally, as the day drew to a close, the soldiers went up in their rooms, and waited for tomorrow. Amel and Femel would not find peace in the night, as the city was still of interest to them. Amel had never seen such well worked materials. While Tainas was neighbouring Amouldes, Mou would cease in sending high quality materials there as the crime rates had risen and more and more things were stolen on their way there. So, having access not only to these materials, but being worked by master smiths and such, brought huge smiles from Amel. He also knew that this was just a glimpse into it, since Thranes would inevitably have even better things for sale. He was still highly delighted, as at night more vendors would come out, selling goods both legitimate and illegitimate. The guards around the city were paid good sums to keep away from these shops at night. Amel found it gross that those which hunted him and his brother for so long for stealing and such, were being bribed into staying away from criminals. In Amouldes this wouldn’t pass either way, but if he knew there was such a way like bribing to get those soldiers off of him, he would’ve found it.
Femel started to venture onto the streets and dark alleys. He had heard from a vendor earlier that at night, soldiers from around the city were gathering in places and fought citizens who thought their might was above them. This intrigued him and really wanted to take part of it, especially since he heard there were bets being made. It didn’t take him long, and he found one such gathering. There was a circle of people in some remote area of the city, where a group of soldiers were drinking ale as they watched one of their own fight a young, tall and strong man. The man was a head shorter than Femel and had eaten better, from the looks of it.
The soldier went with a punch, and the young man dodged, then hit the soldier in the face. From the look of it, Femel could tell that the young man was going to win. But, as he was getting his foot in, another soldier swiftly kicked his leg, making the man fall a bit, catching himself on his hands. The soldier which he fought didn’t hesitate and hit his face with his chainmail protected knee. Femel couldn’t believe how dirty these soldiers were fighting, but was also impressed by their skill, as their movements were pretty good.
He saw as coin started to be gathered from the crowd, some people placing it in, while others were getting a sum out of another bag. The winners and losers of the bet. The soldiers would estimate on which it was bet more, and if there was more money on the soldier that he would win, the soldier would lose on purpose, the other way stood the same, and they would cheat to ensure they won so they could collect as much money as possible. Femel knew of these tactics, they were even sloppy in his eyes, as he spent such a long time watching people stealing money and things off of people who believed to be winning. This was a mere amateur game, which he could win and gain himself enough money to buy himself a weapon or shield.
So, with a large step and chest in front, he stepped in the circle. There were ten soldiers, guards of the city. One of them was a head taller than the others, standing at the back, drinking and eating. Femel wanted to fight that one, while the soldiers were discussing who should try and beat the tall young man. Femel picked a coin from the crowd of people, the woman was protesting but he didn’t care. He then placed it on his thumb, and flung the coin at the bottle of ale from which the soldier was drinking. The glass shattered and the coin recoiled from the wall the man leaned against. Looking at the then empty bottle, the man sat up. He was even taller when he wanted to, making Femel slightly excited. He was no Keneok, but still good enough to entertain him before going to Thranes.
The man was the commander of a group of soldiers stationed not too far from there. People were afraid to look him in the eyes when he walked on the streets, his broadsword dwarfing many others. Femel liked it. “Your sword, for this,” he pulled from his back a small construct. Amel thought he sneakily managed to put it on him without him noticing, but he was as sharp as ever. All the people present were watching fascinated the small struggling thing, which was sending information back to Amel about Femel’s shenanigans. Amel wasn’t paying attention, the small signals from the construct overlapped by the other hundreds that were travelling and those which spread around Zeranes, gathering more information for him.
The man didn’t care for the bet, he just tossed his sword to a spot on the ground, and Femel did the same after he tied the limbs of the little Snatcher. People were starting to bet. Dozens of gold coin were being thrown around in a matter of seconds, the odds stood as three-to-one in favour of the commander. It was expected, and Femel didn’t like for anything else, but if the odds were greater against him, so he could collect more money.
The commander didn’t wait for a signal, he threw a punch, Femel dodged leaning backwards. A girl shyly tried to touch his face, then he brought himself back to the front. The commander understood he was flexible, which mean his hits wouldn’t matter much, still, he put the guard up. And he did it just in time, as Amel’s strike, unseen by him, came from his left side. He hit his arm, but the commander felt it to the bone. Femel was holding back so he wouldn't’ break the man’s bones, but it would still prove too much as a fracture would come of it. The commander started to realise this might not be a fight he could win. Even so, he still tried to punish the boy who interrupted his good time, throwing punch after punch, dodging a few of Femel’s light hooks. After Femel decided enough was enough, he hit the man with a straight jab, the man put his hands in time to protect himself, but for nothing, as the strike spread his arms open, and with his left, Femel hit the man straight in the face, sending him backwards and onto the other soldiers.
After he claimed his prize and untied the Snatcher which he placed on his back again, he returned to Amel. He was still looking through shops, asking the prices of various materials and the price for learning from a smith the arts of forging. Femel showed his brother what he got that night, swinging the sword around for a bit, then sheathing it into place. Amel was more interested in the money, which he took half of. When Femel protested, he reminded him that besides the fact that they were brothers and shared, if not for his construct, he wouldn’t have had a bargaining chip. Femel tried to switch it back onto Amel for putting the Snatcher on his back in the first place, but Amel wouldn’t listen to him.
Femel returned to the inn puffing, and Amel would buy some metals, with which he was planning to make some of his constructs’ joints a bit better. He kept some for food and other little things, like clean clothes and small goods, then went back at the inn, not sleeping that night as he neede to coordinate the constructs further. The following morning the three of them and the soldiers started once more to travel. Once outside the city, they reunited with the constructs and started going for Thranes.
On their path, they noticed the better kept stone roads, patrols which travelled between the two cities to ensure safe transportation of goods and heads on pikes and spears, to show that criminals were not tolerated. He found it ironic as in the city crime would happen just under the nose of those taking care of them, but didn’t pay it much thought.
The first and second day would go uneventful. Then, the third and final day of travel came by. The travelled the night continuously, so they could arrive in the morning of the third day, around noon. Amel didn’t expect that, but his constructs were already aligned to meed with them on their path there. Once they were past Arht, a town between the two cities, his constructs were ready to welcome them.
As they stepped on the road surrounded by trees on both sides, the soldiers would find themselves astonished. Besides Omega, which they expected, there were twice as many constructs. When they asked Amel about it, he simply shrugged it off. This wasn’t good, the soldiers could tell, if he hid twice as many of these constructs, besides not knowing the reason, they didn’t know how many more he had. He also had Alpha, which would make his small army almost twice as strong if used, but Amel didn’t want to bring it up, since that could make him a further target for the First Six. And given that they were going to meet with, whom everyone believed to be, the strongest of them, he wasn’t willing to show off all his cards, especially if he was strong enough to stand against his eight hundred and Omega.
Finally, as noon encroached, they started to see the walls which were built around Thranes, completed a year prior. They were immense, thirty metres tall and six metres thick. If an army would try to assault the city, they would need such large numbers, that Amel wasn’t sure it was possible for an army to conquer the military capital. The towers of the city went even higher, reaching forty and fifty metres. Amel didn’t feel threatened by those aspects, as Omega could simply take them crashing down. What worried him was the man who built those walls. They had seemingly no weak spots and were enforced with many soldiers patrolling them. If him and his brother were to try to escape in a run, he was afraid that it might’ve not been possible, not with a casualty on their part at least.
The soldiers saw the worried look on Amel’s face, and were glad that their capital was putting some fear in the monster of a boy, prompting some dirty smirks on their faces. Femel would put himself between them, looking them with animosity in his eyes. Their smirks quickly faded away, and looked in front instead. The gates were still open, despite the small army they brought along, and Omega being present. This surprised the soldiers, since they didn’t know that the boy was friends with the next in line for the kingdom. However, Amel was the one more surprised. While he knew that Hran II told his father of the four hundred constructs, there wasn’t a way which he could’ve known of his others, especially Omega who should’ve looked like a huge threat to the safety of the city. He was absolutely sure of it, as his constructs didn’t notice or found humans on their path towards Thranes.
This could mean that what he brought was in the range of expectations of Hran, or he thought this was not worth raising an alarm over. Whichever it was, Amel didn’t like it. Femel looked at the tall walls and many soldiers patrolling it. He felt a strong gut feeling. This was the city which he wanted to see and be into. Holding the large broadsword at his side, he felt ready to see what the military capital of the military kingdom was all about.
With each their own worries and excitement, they started to make their way forward, the constructs behind managed by Ermel. Closing in to the gates, they saw that no other people were around, coming or going from the city. They were all warned about the income of Amel and Femel and the army of constructs. Once at the gates, the soldiers presented themselves to the guards. The guards ignored them and looked at Femel instead. They had confused him for Amel, thinking he was the one who made the constructs. Amel wanted them to believe for a bit that Femel was the one who made them, so he could think on his next moves while Femel was talking with them. Femel could tell what his brother wanted, and was happy to oblige. Getting to know his future comrades, was part of his excitement to be there.
The soldiers felt less and less important in their task, further reinforced by the guards dismissing them. While they were ready to simply return to their post inside the castle, Femel shook their hands and paid his respects to them. While most of his life these people were his enemies, he couldn’t come to hate the men who took care of them on their way here and allowed them to see wonderful new places and people. It was true that the soldiers wanted to profit off of these two, but seeing how that changed from when they left until then, and the soldiers no longer dreaming of making money and fame from them, they reciprocated the feeling, wishing them the best of luck and that they would meet on the battlefield once their training was done.
With that, the soldiers left for the garrison and the guards took the two brothers throughout the capital. Making their way inside, the constructs followed them inside. They were allowed to as long as they wouldn’t move from a certain pattern, which the soldiers instructed Amel with. The constructs had a bit of a will of itself, so some were trying to break the formation in order to test their surroundings and trying to ascertain the best way to help Amel. But Ermel would have none of it, putting them back in line. The guards were confused by the lack of control over the constructs, thinking that Femel, who they thought was Amel, should’ve had empirical authority over them. Omega wouldn’t be able to get inside, so it stood outside the walls, so close to them, that some of the guards started to poke it with their spears. They were warned to not provoke it, as it could ascertain them as dangers, but some couldn’t contain themselves, as they were taught to be fearless no matter the danger presented to them.
Amel got the information from Omega, that was ready to terminate the threat before it, even though their spears could at best scratch the stone or break once they tried a bit harder. Amel enforced his will upon Omega, who was getting a handful to handle given the taunts of the soldiers. He passed on a the secret message to tell the guards to send for someone to tell the soldiers on the wall to stop before Omega decides to destroy half the city. The guards took notice and sent someone, but seemed casual about it. There it was again, that casual attitude while the threat was in front of them, it reminded him of the soldiers they were with for the past month. Something about these soldiers was off putting. Was there a greater threat? Sure, when you thought about it, the Foolish King would seem like a much more scary thing to fight against, but that wasn’t it really, the fact that the potential death was of no worry to them, is what concerned him. If he tried to threaten them, would anyone budge? Something was setting a lack of fear into their hearts. Whatever it was, Amel wanted to see it.
Making their way down the cobbled streets, there was a water canal running through the middle, separating two streets from one another, small bridges allowing to pass. On the side of the streets, there were houses. Their roofs and construction was of smooth stone. People were all inside their homes, not daring to go outside until they passed through with all the constructs. Once past the houses, people would start coming out and forming themselves behind them. Amel spread some small constructs around already. They all head weapons, and amongst them, soldiers. His back was filled with many people, ready to attack in case he was going to cause trouble. It wasn’t bad, but not something he didn’t account for, the many simulations inside his mind telling him as much. Contrary, this was the better outcome, as those were civilians, and not so many soldiers. He figured Hran must’ve kept soldiers either further ahead or around the walls, in case Omega was going to try and breach through.
He commended the mighty one, for that was one of the most optimal approaches. If Omega got through and into the city, then it would kill far more people than if it was distracted by all the soldiers throwing at it. And something told him they might have more than soldiers, machines of war prepared to take large beasts, as the armies of the Foolish King weren’t of men, but of monsters. Going for some more, they had to go up a sort of slope, the city being built on uneven, elevated terrain, the castle standing at the centre of it all. From the inside, if someone was to invade, they would find themselves with a natural impediment, ingrained in the city’s fundations, which could serve as an advantageous point. Once they ascended the elevated terrain, before Amel and Femel stood yet some other tall walls. Those were some fifteen metres tall, and surrounded a portion of the centre. Tall gates denied the access inside, where Femel could see many soldiers and a few people dressed differently.
The guards ordered the two to stand in place, Femel brought a bit further than Amel. The guards announced their arrival, and the gates have opened. From inside, the first to come out was Hran II. He was looking straight, not making contact with Amel. Whether because his father told him to act in an official manner or because he didn’t want to be associated with Amel in front of the others, worked out fine for Amel. Then, once he stationed himself in front of the wall, soldiers with more expensive armour following him behind, the monstrous figure of a man appeared through the gate. While the gate was around eight metres tall, the man who came out of it had to slightly bend so he wouldn’t hit the top. The crown on his head, with the six figures of the First Six, adorned his head, that wore the black, short hair. His face had a thick, medium sized beard, a scar on his chin covered by the hairs above, eyes darker than his hair and wide, strong features. His body was covered in thick muscles, lean though. He was wearing armour, not for protection, but out of habit, as the body seemed more than comfortable into it. The armour was of a black metal which attracted Amel’s eyes, while at the waist, sword that was reaching for the ground in its sheath stood, the handle wide and a gem that changed colour was at its end. At his other side, there were what seemed like golden gloves, some sort of gems adorning their knuckles, held by the waist with a small silver rope. The king was wearing some peculiar boots too, the tips of the dark, cold steel boots, having the shape of a dragon’s head, which neither Amel, Femel or Ermel knew what looked like, so they thought they must’ve been of some wild beast. His cape was in contrast to his armour, flowing in waves behind him with the wind.
When he stepped, there was a feeling of unease raising in the air. His eyes, those black circles, drew in the light from the outside, processing what’s before them, two children who dared march to his capital with an army. Hran requested soldiers, and instead got the toys of a lost child and his brother. He wasn’t going to tolerate it. He grabbed the hilt of his sword, ready to pull it out, Hran II didn’t move or say anything. Femel, seeing as the guards and soldiers didn’t respond to the King’s actions, thought this was an execution. He pulled out his sword, held it in front of the monstrous human. Amel was still thinking. Even if he let all his constructs attack Hran, none would manage to reach him or cause an injury to open a path for them. The best he had was Omega, of which he was unsure if he should send in, since the light of Hran didn’t read any ill intent to him. That might’ve been because Hran thought what he was going to do, was nothing more than a mercy or such, but Amel didn’t want to risk misreading his intentions and bring a definite sentence upon their heads.
Hran looked at the boys, thought again upon taking out the sword, then decided against it, letting go of the grip. Femel held his sword out, didn’t want to risk it. Hran could tell by that point that the one behind was the maker, and the one in front, nothing special. He changed his glance upon Amel, told him to come. Femel looked at Hran, then back at Amel. Amel didn’t like how things were going, and being all alone with Hran, could be extremely dangerous, as he didn’t know the kind of person he was. While it was true Hran was basically their greatest grandfather, or one of them at least, it didn’t mean he would hesitate in killing his own blood. Even so, looking at Hran II, who seemed to want to tell him to just go, he knew he didn’t have a choice. Hran simply started to walk, not waiting for Amel to come to a decision. The soldiers, guards and Hran II started to move too. Those which disobeyed, would be met with their fate fast enough, he could tell that was the philosophy behind it. It might’ve explained the odd behaviour of the soldiers. If the threat of death was constant, then nothing could scare them indeed.
He followed the first of men, placing his hand on Femel’s shoulder briefly, letting information through and telling him to wait at the gates, where Omega was at, the constructs surrounding him. Femel knew what he meant by this, if Hran was going to attack and even kill him, it was up to him to escape and ensure to carry their vengeance against those two, or at least establish their kingdom, their dream. Femel wanted to protest, but it wasn’t the time nor place to do such thing. He obeyed Amel, for the time being, and retreated to the wall with the constructs. He had been following the moves of the soldiers, guards and people behind him, he was having something in mind being prepared.
As Amel made it past the gates, they closed, he figured as much. Before he would pass by completely, he let out two small constructs of his pockets. They were to see and inform him of the mechanism of the gates, so he could send ways for them to open them. Inside the walled portion of the middle, the area was covered in finely cut stone, carvings on all of them with models. At the very middle, the giant castle, which was more like a fort, stood tall. Its shape was irregular, with a tower here and there, sections taller than other. When looked at first glanced, it may look as something made without purpose, an afterthought brought to life. But if looked careful, and by a good or experienced eye, the true colours of the design would show through. There were rooms meticulously planned to be in more advantageous positions than others, points of retreat with the purpose of giving trouble to any invaders. Amel couldn’t tell if this was the thinking of a genius, or of a paranoid man.
The soldier and guards went inside the castle, Hran and Hran II stood next to each other, his father double and some his height. “What is the purpose of this?” Amel asked, making Hran II raise his eyebrows, Hran unchanged. “If you wanted to kill me, you could’ve done it already, so why all the hassle to bring me here alone? If you want to say something to me, you could’ve done it outside too,” his way of speech was so arrogant that it made Hran II want to hit him. Hran analysed the little thing. He looked at his light, glowing so strong and coursing so straight, he then saw the many connections he had furcating from his light, something he only saw in Mou, and even then, they were harder to see.
“How do you do it?” Hran pointed at his light, the ramifications specifically. “How do you spread your light like that?”. Hran II was more surprised than Amel of his father. All of a sudden, there was a kid in his father’s voice, something which he never thought possible from the man that had a heart of steel.
Amel analysed his light, saw no fluctuations, not that it was easy with the way his light was glowing and moving. He called back one of his small constructs from the gates, Hran watched the strand of light grow stronger as it approached Amel. He took the construct in his hand, and Hran saw as the boy severed the connection. “Like this,” Amel touched the construct, and the light which he cut, then attached back to his central one, returned to the construct, in the same exact way.
“Hmm, no, that’s not it,” Hran said, scratching his chin. “Show me how you spread a new one.”. Amel didn’t know what to think. From all his simulations, this one never appeared, it was too highly improbable. He went through hundreds of thousands of them up to the point when they reached the gates. In most of them, they would get greeted and expected, as he was assuming Hran to enjoy a fresh, large force of constructs, and his brother, a highly skilled warrior. In some of them, they would get attacked, imprisoned or executed. The first portion of it was correct, as they almost got attacked by Hran, but something changed in his view, and then they were talking of how his ability worked. This was a new way, a passage which he couldn’t see. He could tell it was a more rewarding and perilous one. The right move would skip the pointless training part and would allow him to serve under Hran. The wrong move, would bring that sword out of Hran, and before Femel would have time to reach, he would be killed as well.
“Give me your sword, your Highness,” Amel started to adopt a more respectful tone. Hran wasn’t fooled by his pretence, those eyes alone told him that the boy was ready to put his life on the line if it meant saving his brother’s, while his light showed that he didn’t mean what he said. He didn’t care though, he was far more curious of the potential the boy had for the war to come, than whatever small farce he may try. He pulled out his sword, blue steel. Amel was entranced by the blade, Hran could tell that the boy shared the same passion for potential knowledge in furthering his goals, so much so, that for some moments, the boy like him, would forget his duties. He liked that. The blade, once Amel could hold it in his hands, barely being able to lift it, saw the intricate white patterns adorning it. It was so delicately made, yet such harshness about it. The cold too, it emanated a sort of energy from within, cold to the touch, but not freezing, not to his hands.
“The breeze of the Shivering Lands, they call them Tremblers,” Amel tried to shake off his wonder, but couldn’t. The beauty of the blade, the careful handcrafted hilt and the curious nature of its properties. Even to his light infused mind, the questions were too many to be answered fast enough. He snapped out of it after a few long moments, in which both Hran and Amel stared at the blade. Hran II was starting to feel a bit at ease, seeing that the two of them were getting along a bit. But the situation at hand wouldn’t be over until his father deemed satisfactory that Amel was worth his while, and not just a bit more talented individual, that wasted resources and soldiers. Hran was also considering the price of his crimes, when measuring his worth. Femel wasn’t brough on the scales, as Hran couldn’t see any light in him, and that was his unit of measurement, the amount, quality and use of one’s light. Amel had both amount and quality, that was sure. The least criteria, the use, had to exceed expectations.
Amel knew he had to make a large impression if he was to get out of there. But also had a second plan in mind. While the material from which the sword was made, would need him months of training, perhaps more, before he could properly infuse and control, he could temporarily infuse it with his light, at a surface level, and make it reach Femel by construct proxy, where his constructs could find the sword, thanks to the light attached to it, and give it to Femel. If Femel had this sword, then even without his constructs, he was sure his brother could eventually reach a point where he could defeat the Foolish King.
Before he would forfeit his life though, he had to make an impression for the King, see if maybe he can escape out of this with his head on his shoulders. Hran could tell that Amel was thinking of doing something, he just didn’t know what, his light hiding his intent to a degree that shouldn’t be possible at his age. Amel had long practised his mind to be in sync with his light, so as not to reveal any information. In most cases, the way his light behaved didn’t matter, as Masters of Light were to be counted on the fingers, and only those like the First Six would pose an issue. Even so, he did it for those improbable scenarios, one of them unfolding before him.
Hran was waiting for Amel patiently, while Hran II could only observe as the looming figure of his father, was standing in such a peculiar manner. It was the sight of a man checking the work of a paid hand, if not good, the price wouldn’t be paid, or in this case, paid with his life. Amel closed his eyes, let the light flow through his mind as strongly as possible, then through his body. Moments turned to minutes, then hours, then days and finally weeks. His mind exceeded the thinking capabilities that of even Lightborn. While the Lightborn were born with the innate ability to think at high capacity, given the natural way which it came to them, they usually didn’t train it beyond what was given. Only those like Kilon would spend time on things like enhancing the mind, since he had to deal with a large variety of issues, and couldn’t waste time. So, Amel was performing something which not even the First Six were able to. By that alone, Hran would’ve let him join his rank and thought of him as worth more than three hundred men and twenty tacticians. But Amel went further, opening his eyes. He was able to speed up the training it would take him. While it wouldn’t be anywhere near the point he would like it, this way he could both perform in front of the King and ensure the sword could leave this place towards Femel. Hran was watching as the surface of the blade got enveloped by Amel’s light in a fraction of a second, then the light went between the fine pieces which formed the blade, and infused themselves within. It wasn’t enough to reach the whole depth of the blade, for the pattern of the molecules was tied closely together and in a complex fashion, but enough for Amel to give them a few basic functions. Hran watched Amel’s light, as if with a will of its own, it fractured a piece of itself, and circulated through Amel’s mind, then into the blade. The way it moved was odd and it fractured further, into impossibly small thin lines of light, each containing a precise set of information.
Once the action was complete, Amel gave back the blade to the King. Hran didn’t know what he just did, but could see his light still into the blade. Amel gestured him to sheathe it by pointing at his scabbard. The king followed, to see what will happen, then looked at Amel. Between the fraction of a second it took to change glances, the sword unsheathed itself and reached back to Amel, standing behind him.