"GRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!" I roar, clutching my head and falling into the dirt. Smashing away any attempt to help me back up, I howl in defiance at this inexplicable pain. Clutching for the sky, I stop it from falling down. My face burns brighter than any fire ever could and its jaws are clenched like a weld.
Pushing back against the immense weight, I start to sink. One hand snaps into the ground, cratering it and cracking the earth for miles around. Orders snap all about and my troops do their duty with precise drill. I barely manage to make it back onto my feet as the pain in my head dies down.
Slowly, my arm reaches its full height and my problem comes to an end. Turning to my Ibenoroccon friend, I nod at him and he backs off to get back to his duties as my aide. Emptying my lungs with heavy, drooling breaths, my free hand clicks. A plump chair is brought over and it snaps out a creak when my armoured body collapses onto it.
Taking off my sword and using it like a cane, I lean backwards onto it, letting these two things handle my strain. Focusing on the city I am so close to taking, I glare at the lack of spells beyond the shield. Whatever just happened, my turncoats seem to be on the receiving end as well. Looking around, I note how many of our war-witches are down on the ground.
All screaming in agony.
The magic enthralling the men seems to have wavered as well and many are stuck in awkward positions. Their bodies have briefly been freed and then locked back up into their service. I gesture to the nearest officers to get them back into formation and cover my eyes. Growling a little, I look at the sky and nod contently at my saved future plans.
"Davudpas!" I snap, calling my friend to my side. My sword starts to dig into the dirt with its sheathed bluntness.
"Yes, Our-Prince-to-Ascend?" he answers, bowing the true Jhermonikra way despite his other-continentally birth.
"Have the staff in the war tent be made aware if they are not already. I want a council assembled so we may discuss the changes to our siege plans." I order him, taking his hand and nearly breaking his arm from the effort it takes for me to rise. I meet his eyes, watching him wince then smile before receiving another salute. I offer him my hand and take his so he may go out with my full confidence.
Groaning under the freshly whipped strain, I hobble as fast as I can away from my observation post. Passing the troops, they automatically shift to present me with an arch of honourable blades. Each one swings down just before I pass. Even the beasts we call our noble allies stop their animalistic urges to give me what I am due.
The pride of our ryphurgoks moves ahead, presenting its sealed mouth for me to gently grip. I whisper it the blessing deserved of such a strong-blooded descendent Pyeckerh. I let go and clutch my head again, growling at the lingering pain as the winds pick up. Coming to a stop at the familiar power, it speaks.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
"My son, turn away from this war and march to save Thrurstradtur." His Lunar Majesty speaks with but a whisper. Bowing to his word and placing myself back under the strain of my almost failed spell, I nod against the dirt.
"Of course, my king." I answer, forcing my way back upright while my mind grumbles. I guess I have an answer as to what is happening now. Something in that country is responsible and the blood of all Jhermonikra must spill to stop it. I must make sure as few rivers flow red as possible, now is not the time for us to be losing generations.
The real war is still yet to come, for vengeance and our future.
Hurrying along, the war tent comes into sight and supplies within sight jump with each hobble. The tent flaps are opened for me by my accompanying Emerald-Clothed Guard. Those inside bow as is appropriate and place their hands about to stop things from toppling. Ignoring my field-throne, I opt instead to lean slightly on the table.
"Call it all off, I want the airships lining the Redstone Canyon and those that are quickest to offload all that they can and to the new front. His Lunar Majesty calls for us to march to the aid of the Dual Republic of Thrurstradtur-Suhurlodst. Whatever has just occurred, it's from within their borders." I tell them, gesturing them all off immediately so that this can be put underway.
Davudpas lingers and I turn on the magic holo-table. Scrubbing away my plans, I put in the details and set in the immediate order for all on-way troops and airships to assemble near Orterzusa. I double-check my memory and nod in confidence. That mountain-state has the capacity to house a fleet at the scale I need it to be.
For His Lunar Majesty to call off our siege like this when we are so close...
"Younger brother. Mmmmm." I let out in thought as I begin to ponder what has been asked of the War-Prince's troops. Whatever is happening, my envy for my lost position is set aside. My beloved younger brother received that title for a reason over me and now is his chance to teach me. For now, my brother has my humility.
"What are the plans for this city, then, Our-Prince-to-Ascend?" Davudpas asks, his hands quickly filling with redrafted orders and clarifications. More and more and more, he proves able and talented in handling so many hefty tablets.
"I will talk directly to the one in charge of my operations within the city. She will delay and prevent the Valkinvar from moving out and reasserting themselves in our absence." I say in all seriousness but he laughs anyway. I look his way, brow slightly raised.
"Forgive me, but, with how little work your genius has made of this country in the recent decade. They will be stretching themselves so thin they'd snap if they try anything." he rightly points out.
"My plans are not to destroy the Valkinvar, not more than I have to." I answer, my plans for them flashing across my mind's eye. Our war-witches are powerful, but, they're inconsistent due to how such soldiers are made. What I need is something that can match the greatest of foreign warriors.
Light, Dark, Fire, Lightning... Water.
It doesn't matter, I need the Valkinvar under my sway. So many already are but I need all that remains. Though they shall be turning to Jhrarda the Mighty, I need the expertise given unto them by Honourable War. Even cracked and chipped from such total war, they're the finest force of witches on this continent, second only to His Lunar Majesty's royal guard.