Kostya and Cillian sat together on the floor. The freezing ground bit their bottoms, and the cold air battered their bodies. Their backs were against a small shop, and they were sipping small paper cups of tea. The tea shop was run by one man. There were no chairs or tables, and the owner would always treat the customer with an edge of contempt, but everyone knew this was the best tea anyone could ask for. The two were silent as they watched passersby. Only the warmth and sweet taste of the tea mattered.
"I missed this," Kostya said, reveling with each sip. "You know, it really doesn't get any better than this. You'd expect that somewhere in the vast tamed and untamed lands of Maneza, there would be at least one person to do it better. But nope, this is it. This is the best damn tea there is." He nudged Cillian with his shoulder. "And trust me, I've been everywhere they sell tea."
"Lucky me. While you were out sailing the 12 seas, or whatever, I got to stay here and enjoy the best tea in the world." Cillian said as he took another sip.
"Ah, I didn't partake in much seafaring," Kostya corrected. "It was much more of a land-based affair."
"Oh pardon me," Cillian imitated Kostya's accent playfully. "Where did you go anyway? Five years was a long time."
"Let's see, all over Condoran. I went to the Elvish and Dwarven kingdoms, and through the wilderness in between. I even skirted the tips of the Black Empire." Kostya said between sips of tea.
"You're messing with me," Cillian lowered his cup and faced the blonde traveler. "You expect me to actually believe you went into the Black Empire?"
"Yeah, I'm serious. I met a traveling merchant who came from the Empire while I was in the Dwarvish lands. He helped me get through customs and visit his hometown."
"Wow, that's crazy. What was it like?" Cillian asked.
"It's exactly like the books. Every building was black, every person was wearing black, it was so absurd. The merchant gave me a black cloak to wear so I wouldn't stand out." Kostya finished his tea and eyed the empty cup.
"Come on, you have to tell me more than that," Cillian nagged.
"Buy me some more tea and I will," Kostya said with a grin on his face.
"You rich bastard," Cillian laughed. "You're the one who's supposed to be treating me."
They both shared a laugh that lasted a few moments and then settled down.
"Do you know what the weirdest part was?" Kostya asked.
"What's that?"
"Even in that perfect black landscape, where I swear even the sky was black, they weren't," Kostya said, pointing towards something in the distance.
Cillian followed Kostya's finger and looked towards the center of the village. He was pointing at a figure in the distance. The crowds of people passing through didn't impede the figure's visibility. It was tall and slender. It seemed to stand on two legs, but no one could confirm that since it was entirely covered from head to toe in an elaborate white and silky cloth. The intricacy and elegance of the figure gave it a transcendent yet eerie beauty.
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"The Manezans?" Cillian asked.
"Yeah, everywhere I went, they were there too. Every city and village, there was at least one."
"Well duh, everyone knows that. Manezans live everywhere civilized," Cillian said as if he was quoting a textbook. "And every time you talk to them they always say the same thing, 'do you want great power-'"
"Wait, be quiet," Kostya interrupted. He got up off the ground and his attention was turned away from the conversation.
"What is it?" Cillian asked as he got up, following his friend's lead.
"Do you hear that? Listen," Kostya instructed.
Cillian obeyed. At first, he heard nothing. Then he picked out a faint noise through the drone of village life. It was rhythmic and sounded like something was banging against the ground. That noise quickly grew louder until Cillian could detect where it was coming from. He turned to face it.
"People of Condoran in the village of West Tassal," the announcement bellowed in a powerful tone and came from the same direction as the sound Kostya had initially identified. The origin of the sound was clear, a group of soldiers clad in black plate mail strode into the village on coal-colored horses. The cavalry that headed the front of the parade was followed by numerous soldiers on foot. They were all dressed the same, with black armor even covering their face. They carried tall black pikes and it made the entire procession seem like a gigantic black snake. The only color in the stream of black was at the front, the man who was giving the announcement had a flamboyant red feathery plume on his helmet.
"The Emperor's all consuming void has swept through the land. You are no longer under the rule of the false king Condoran the Third. You are now the property and subjects of the Grand Emperor of the Night. Darkness will envelop you. You will become black. Whether by the beneficent umbra of the Emperor or by adopting the charred skin of those who resist." The declaration boomed across the entire village. All those who heard stood still. No one looked away from the speaker.
Cillian felt his heart begin to race.
I must be dreaming. We were just talking about them, that's all, I'm just daydreaming.
He turned to face his friend, "Kostya?"
But Kostya didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on the invading force, like everyone else. Cillian had never seen fear as he did on Kostya's face. Contorted with a twisted open-mouthed frown and with eyes spread wide, Kostya looked like a stranger to Cillian. The perception of a fearless adventurer shattered like thin glass.
"In the coming days we will ease your transition into the greatest nation of Maneza. Our forces will secure your safety, new laws will be implemented, and new growth will be spurred. Any opposition will be promptly stomped. Welcome to the new dark age of prosperity."
The procession resumed its march through the village. People began to mumble and whisper between each other. Cillian thought he could hear the sniffles of hushed tears. He turned and watched the villagers.
Was this really happening? Black imperials? Here? In West Tassal? A scan of the villagers made it abundantly clear they were asking similar questions.
As he watched the events in disbelief, Cillian noticed a plume of smoke rising in the distance. It was coming from somewhere out in the distance in the wilderness that surrounded the village. The smoke was thick and black.
Someone's furnace, Cillian thought and turned his attention back to the soldiers as they marched nearer towards him. Just as quickly as he turned away from the smoke he turned back.
It's too thick to be from a furnace and too dark. Something isn't right.
His mind raced with possibilities.
Only a fire of big enough size could create that much smoke. Did the Black Imperials have something to do with this?
By now, the march had reached Cillian and Kostya. Kostya watched intently as they crossed and proceeded towards the village's center. Cillian, however, was still staring at the rising smoke. Then, suddenly, he remembered an important detail.
"My house is in that direction," Cillian mumbled.
"What?" Kostya said. It was the first noise he made since the arrival of the invading military force.
"The smoke. That's where my house is," Cillian spoke softly, as he processed what he was saying.
"Cillian, what are you talking about?" Kostya asked.
Cillian pointed towards the smoke. "Amalea," he whispered.
"What did you say?" Kostya said, bringing his ear closer to Cillian.
Cillian suddenly broke into a sprint, running as fast as he could down the unpaved mud road.
"Where are you going?!" Kostya shouted. He tried to catch up with him but quickly realized it was hopeless. Cillian ran past the procession of black-clad soldiers and towards the gate they came from. People watched as he ran, but the outside world did not register to Cillian. Only one thing was on his mind: Amalea.
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Invasion of West Tassal