Soft footing. That's something Ishar enjoyed about the Ganidan Plain. The jade colored flowers underfoot brought back memories of a time when life had been simple, when he'd stood upon a grassy hill and watched as sheep grazed. When the gentle caress of the afternoon breeze would ease the discomfort of perspiration earned from his daily run to the water well. When the only sound would be Mairek's lamenting at lost love and the occasional bleating of sheep.

Now as his feet brushed upon the Centala flowers, bringing him closer to the Binorian camp, it was with a foggy mind that he realized the soft footing was the only thing the present shared with his past. Sure, there was a breeze beating upon his half naked body but it wasn't gentle neither was it born of the afternoon cadence he'd been a part of as he watched over the sheep. There were no sheep in his line of sight now, before him were rousing soldiers, ferocious animals who hastened to form a row of shields as they watched him approach. Beckoning to each other with hand gestures and shouts that did little to hide their confusion and underlying fear. How he wished the sounds meeting his ears were that of Mairek lamenting instead of Binorian cries of alarm. How he wished the shouts coming from behind him were that of bleating sheep other than equally confused and frightened Talisi.

"Ishar, let's go back to camp."

"Ishar what are you doing!"

"Ishar!"

"Ishar!"

His name was called over and over. He spared not a glance to those Talisi flanking him and those converging behind him. His eyes stayed fixed ahead, where the masses of red stood and faced in his direction. The Talisi could have grabbed him and taken him back to camp by force, they had the numbers and strength to do so but he knew they wouldn't. They feared him just as much as they feared the Binorians. Sure enough, as he got closer to the Binorian camp that crowded upon the Ganidan plain he found his feet to be the only sound that accompanied him, the Talisi had given up on their attempts of persuasion and had retreated back to their camp. Leaving Ishar with a silence that was mirrored by those before him.

Ishar came to a stop ten paces before the first defensive line of the Binorian Legions. The men, most of whom towered over him, stood with their impeccable shields that ran half the length of their bodies and was dyed the same ruddy hue as their armor. A section of the line parted and a man emerged on a magnificent black steed. He carried himself with the air of one used to command and his attire was different from those beside him in that his armor was black and a black cape dawned his shoulders and dropped down his back to rest on the steed's hind.

The man raised a gauntleted hand to lift his visor and glare down at Ishar with piercing blue eyes. "You're the Kolotian. It is good that you have brought yourself, saving us the trouble of looking for you among the Talisi corpses we shall leave upon this Plain come the dawn."

Ishar imagined what he looked like standing before the armored behemoth on his horse. A lanky young man by contrast, gold colored shirt tucked into the waistband of his breeches. Ribs out for all to see and a nonchalant face that hinted at an inborn slowness. Ishar titled his head back and laughed, a cackling laughter that had the Binorians visibly flinching. He lowered his head and met the eyes of the rider.

"Where is Vayin Vigon?" Ishar asked. "I wish to speak to him."

It was the rider's time to laugh, his was a booming laugh that had the horse backtracking. "Mbengo, you have no power here, no say on anything. The King is in the fortress, asleep and merciful to have offered you and the Talisi the same privilege for this night." The man sat upright. "I am Laahand, interim Commander of the hundred Legions. I give you the pleasure of knowing my name before I take your head."

Ishar mimicked Laahand's pose while standing, arching his back with the effort of standing straighter while puffing out his chest. "I am Ishar, I was a shepherd once. Before that I mostly cleaned dishes and slept in a latrine. Now I am confused as to exactly what my occupation is but I assure you I no longer sleep in a latrine."

Stolen novel; please report.

A moment of silence ensued where the Binorians pondered Ishar's words while turning to give each other questioning glances.

"Ishar, I shall cram your beheaded body into a latrine, you shall sleep there once more. Mbengo." Laahand smiled at him with milky white teeth.

Ishar returned the smile. "Would you be so kind as to get the King for me, please? I wish to settle what's between us so as to save those behind me. Also. Don't call me that name, it distorts my limited perception."

Laahand drew his sword from his scabbard, the metal's rasp cut through the night and the closest Talisi scout hidden paces behind Ishar, the only one who'd dared to venture further in his tailing of Ishar, whimpered in his position spread flat upon the ground. Talisi's only hope of victory had escaped them and surrendered itself to death by Binoria's hand. The scout gently raised himself, turned around and bolted for the Talisi camp.

Laahand pointed the blade's tip at Ishar, his smile had vanished. "I shall take you to the King." Ishar's smile widened. "But your body will be lifeless in his presence." Ishar sighed. "Mbengo." The Commander concluded.

The Interim Commander's horse suddenly buckled and dropped forward. It's forelimbs breaking at the knees, bending backwards and sending Laahand into a forward tumble. It was too fast for the front line of the Legion to understand what had happened, to make sense of what they'd witnessed. One minute Ishar was before the horse, the next he was beside it. Laahand dropped to the ground, the air rushing out of him with one hand pinned awkwardly beneath him. With his other hand he made to raise himself but something immense, like a boulder, dropped on his head and everything went black.

The Binorians maintained their line that had drifted a step back instead of forward to the aid of their Interim Commander. All eyes were on the Kolotian whose bare foot had shattered Laahand's helmet and all that lay within it. Their first instinct was to charge the single combatant and overrun him with numbers. But who would make the first step? Who would be the first to meet the Kolotian whose eyes were glowing amber?

Ishar glared at the Legionnaires, his foot encased in the helmet where the Commander's head was once whole. "Tell Vayin Vigon that I came to treaty but now I have changed my mind." The line distorted at the weight of his words. Some Legionnaires dropped their shields and others shrieked while backpedaling into the line behind them. Chaos spread its web upon the gathered Legion that marked the defensive line of the sleeping army. A line that was distorted under Ishar's amber glare and now resembled their Commander's confidence from where he lay.

Ishar lifted his leg, his eyes fading back to violet. He observed the red and grey matter that stained the sole of his foot. "Urgh, damn it!" He ran his leg upon the Centala flowers, wiping it clean of gore. "It's disgusting, very disgusting." He raised his head to meet the eyes of the front mangled line as he wiped his foot. "I hope I don't have to do that again."

Ishar, oblivious of the Binorians, leaned down and grabbed the dead Commander's vambrace with one hand, he dragged the body behind him as he walked back to the Talisi camp. Behind him the

Legionnaires gathered themselves and formed a line once more, the only thing they could do under the shame of their inability.

"Let's fucking get the mbe... The bastard!" A Binorian on the second line remarked. A gap formed from the front line, right before the legionnaire who'd spoken.

"Go get him, we're behind you." Another Legionnaire said. Nobody moved.

The line parted once more and a legionnaire emerged, a gold rhino's emblem on his black breast plate marked him as captain. "What happened here?" The Captain turned his head to the discarded and mangled helmet splattered with gore. He repeated his question as he watched the sepia color of a Kolotian's naked back edge further away, the Kolotian dragged an armored body behind him that dug a path upon the Ganidan plain, clearing it of Centala flowers.

"What happened here?" The Captain asked once more. His question was met by the same silence.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The metaphysical line that held the Talisi away from the Binorian camp slightly broke as the scouts whose sharp eyes could pierce the night's gloom despite the moonlight raced forth to attend to him. Ishar liked the feel of the Centala flowers beneath his feet, they reminded him once more of the grass upon the grazing hill, a place he might never see again. The Talisi escorted him back to camp, none offered to lift the burden of the corpse he dragged behind him and he didn't mind their reluctance to offer to do so. They walked with him in silence, keeping a safe distance as their minds accepted the inevitable. He had drawn first blood, whatever hopes of a treaty or agreement between the Kingdoms was as good as lost. A battle was well on its way, probably within the hour. The Centala flowers were guaranteed a taste of their favorite drink, they would flourish to heights unknown, the plants would soften the path of whoever would next trod upon the land stained with death. Ishar found himself oddly comforted by that fact.