“That’s it, boy,” Tygus yelled.
Cillian could see the dwarf perched in a tree on his path. He was carrying a bag and was jogging up a hill. Sweat was rolling down his face. Each step was a heavy thud as he plodded over snow and fallen pine needles.
“Don’t slow down, keep pushing,” Tygus yelled more words of encouragement.
Cillian kept his pace as he finished the last leg of the run. He slowed down once he crossed the tree Tygus was overseeing in and then proceeded to collapse into his elbows and knees. His face was flushed red as he gasped in mouthfuls of air.
Tygus jumped down and landed beside the curled-over human. Cillian shook the bag off so he could lie flat on his back. The cold soothed his overheating body.
The dwarf picked up the bag with one hand and shook it so that he could hear the contents rummaging against each other. He opened the bag and dumped it out. Fist-sized rocks came tumbling out onto the snow.
“1, 2…5,” Tygus said, counting. “That’ll be 11. That’s not bad for your first week.”
Cillian replied with a grunt of acknowledgment. He did not want to lift his face off the ground.
“Lad, I know it’s hard. But this part is the most important,” Tygus said. “You have to be able to run and run if you want to get through the funnel.”
Cillian would have asked him why, if he could have calmed his body enough to speak.
Tygus looked around on the ground. He found another sizable rock and threw it into the pile of dumped rocks.
“Rest up now. We’ll make it 16 on the way down,” the dwarf laughed as Cillian moaned into the snow.
***
The commander rested his feet on his helmet. The helmet sat on the floor, and his boots sat right before the large protruding white plume. The rocking of the wagon caused a clunking noise from the sporadic metal-on-metal clashing.
“Exactly, that’s why I don’t understand why the Manezans won’t just build us transport gates.” The commander said.
He was talking to the other soldiers who had joined him on his mission at Cillian’s cabin. They all had their headgear off. Technically it was against protocol, but things were usually relaxed when the Commander was in charge.
Of the three soldiers, there was a half-orc with fangs protruding from his jaw, a human with dark brown skin, and a dark-haired elf whose pointy ears traveled high along his head. The commander’s blond hair was untied and cascaded on his shoulders. Even in the dim lighting, his features seemed to glow.
The soldiers sat across from the commander together on a bench, and Amalea was sitting next to him. She was bound with several pieces of rope, blindfolded, and gagged.
“Yeah, it would make transporting this back to the capital so much easier,” the elf soldier said while reaching out across the cabin to touch Amalea’s thigh.
The commander grabbed the soldier's wrist before he could touch the little girl. He got up off his seat and leaned into the elf while he violently shoved the wrist into the soldier’s body.
“Don’t touch her,” the commander growled. He turned his head to face the other two. “No one touches her. Understood?”
“Y-yes sir,” they collectively stuttered.
The commander released his grip and sat back down. Together, everyone sat in silence, except for the occasional whimper that escaped Amalea.
“W-what even is she?” the human soldier mustered the courage to say.
“At first I thought she was a goblin, but the features don't match up. She doesn’t look like any of the prominent races,” the commander said, looking at the girl. “Or anything exotic. Maybe a mixed-”
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The cart came to a sudden screeching halt. The soldier that was driving stuck his head into the cart through the curtains at the front.
“Commander Tareza, we have a problem,” the driver said.
Tereza sighed. He tied his hair up and put on his helmet, then exited the cart. They were a single horse-drawn cart that was traveling on a small dirt road that had forest on either side. The snow on the road had been turned into slush from frequent use.
In the center of the road, a few meters in front of the cart stood a man in simple rags. He was shouting at the black vehicle in a language foreign to Tereza.
“Fucking filth,” Tareza whispered as he walked over to the man. “Move. Get out of the way. This is an important matter and we don’t have time for this,” he commanded.
The man was still gesturing and shouting incomprehensibly. Tereza knew many languages, but this one wasn’t registering to him.
“Enough of your native drivel,” Tygus said while he reached to his belt where he procured a small marble-shaped mineral. It was a swirl of pink and black. He held out his hand with the small crystal sitting in the center of his palm.
The shouting man saw the thing and stopped speaking. He placed his hand on Tareza’s and gripped it. Tereza gripped back and turned his hand to the side so that the position was as if they were shaking hands.
“Stop your caravan,” the man’s words suddenly became perfectly clear to Tereza. The man’s lips did not consign with what he said.
Tereza looked behind him and turned back. “What caravan? It’s just one carriage.”
“Oh? Just one?” The man smiled, revealing yellow teeth. “I heard you were carrying some valuable cargo. I was expecting more protection.”
Tereza could see up close the man’s ill-kept facial hair, and he could smell the man’s foul odor. He heard rustling from around him and saw dozens of people emerging from the surrounding forest. They were all wearing similar outfits of green hooded cloaks. Each of them was armed with a different assortment of weapons. Bows, swords, shields, daggers, clubs, maces, hammers, spears, Tareza could see them all.
He started to chuckle.
“You have courage, I will give you that. You’ve got some guts trying to rob one of the Black Empire’s finest,” Tareza lightened his grip around the man’s hand.
“You hear that everyone? He says that he’s the Empire’s finest!” The small army of bandits erupted in laughter.
Tereza laughed with them.
“Do you know what I think?” the man said after they settled down. “None of it’s real.”
“Oh?” Tereza asked, amused.
“Strongest nation in all of Maneza? I just can’t believe that. If that were true why did you guys stay in your little hole on your little island for a hundred years? Everyone is so scared that they fold as soon as you guys make a move,” the man said while looking around at his fellows for approval.
“If you were really that strong, you would have taken over the world by now. I know I would have. Do you know what I think?" he asked.
"Do tell," Tereza said.
"You’re just a bunch of fakes. All bark and no bite,” the disheveled man reached into his cloak and pulled a large metal spike.
“I’m level three, you know. I had the Manezan’s craft this specifically to crack the shell of you black beetles. It cost a fortune,” the bandit leader swiveled the spike into a reverse grip. “Now I'll show you a real bite.”
The bandit raised his hand high and brought down the strike in a fast and vicious attack. The spike was aimed directly at the mask of the commander.
A spectacle of sparks erupted where the spike struck. A cloud of smoke formed from the mini-explosion. When it cleared, it revealed Tereza standing with the same relaxed posture he had before. He was still holding the hand of his assailant. His helmet was completely untouched, not even the plume wavered.
“What? H-how?” The bandit couldn’t find words. He looked at his weapon. The spike that was in his hands was now reduced to dust. Only the handle remained.
“Quite a bite,” Tareza yawned. “No, forgive my disrespect. I needed a little bit of excitement, so thank you.”
The bandit just looked on in disbelief.
“Let me show you true power,” Tereza said in a suddenly serious tone.
The commander gripped the bandit’s hand with a crushing force that made the man scream out in pain. A violent torrent of flames erupted forward from Tereza's hand. They swirled together, forming a horizontal pillar of ballistic fire whose diameter expanded till it swallowed the bandit whole. The ground shook and the wind blew in violent chaos. The beam produced a blinding flash, and its destruction traveled far forward.
When the commander’s blast of combustion dissipated, all that remained was the shriveled charred skeleton of the man that once stood before him. Tereza was still holding the skeleton’s hand. One shake and the whole thing crumbled into dust onto the ground.
Tereza looked at the fear on the faces of the dozens around him. Beneath his black mask, he was smiling.
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