A few weeks flew by as if they were nothing. Progress in my conquest of the jungle region had been halted by the stubborn persistence of a tribe of wastrels. My scouts reported that this tribe had been the most successful. They had access to some ancient ruins from a civilization long dead. Every encounter my men had with them was always hostile. They proved to be adept in guerilla warfare. When we entered their territories they ambushed us.

When some of my scouts entered the area, they were ambushed. The enemy had several hidden pockets underground where they hid. When they sensed our arrival, they waited for us and then kept themselves hidden for a lengthy amount of time before they sprung in action. It was as if they were demons popping up from hell itself. My men retreated with heavy casualties. Since then, I needed to adapt a new strategy. With that goal, I commanded Straden to hand pick the finest men and train them for stealth combat. You know the old saying. “Fight fire with fire.” I would do just that.

As for the tribe themselves, We never really had a chance to learn about their history. What we did learn was that they dwelled in the ancient ruins of the aforementioned civilization. The ruins were carved into a cliff side near the pathway out of the basin. The tribe had no means to repair the walls. They were like rats living in the halls of a long abandoned house. Vagrants that had no capacity to understand history. Hence, I named the people and the ruins themselves the “Broken wall.” We knew where their city was, but they had the advantage of knowledge. They knew all of the best hiding spots and set traps in the jungle.

As far as the faith in our people was concerned, converts to Ile’Sethak had grown rapidly. Cao Tzu became quite adept in writing down scripture and tennents. Periodically, Ile’Sethak would speak to me and dictate to me the proper rites and when he demanded sacrifice. Usually it was done with a lamb. Much of our time was spent strategizing on how to proceed with the war effort. We couldn’t get near the ruins of the Broken wall without stepping into traps.

As I waited for effective strategies to be brought up at the next war council, I walked among my people. Life had been slowly but surely adjusting to my rule. The conquest of the smaller tribes had been fairly easy up to that point. Their tactics were simple compared to ours. Rushing for our flank on one side and/or hiding their reserve troops on another waiting for a perfect moment to strike. Our methods were more robust and refined. They threw themselves against our shields, believing that they could take us down with overwhelming numbers. In those cases it was a close victory. I replaced the dead with the newly conquered tribes. I put the fear of Ile’Sethak into them. The question was who did they fear more, the enemy in front of them or myself at their back?

The passage of time was hard to determine in those early days of my empire. It didn’t snow as it did in Roharim during the winter. I often missed the feeling of the frosty mist. The cool chill against my skin as the cold season had finally arrived and the pure white blanket that covered rooftops and trees. But what I loved most about winter was the quiet. The peace and serenity I found while walking in the fields after they had been harvested, and all that was left was vast oceans of snow.

Instead, here I was in the jungle where it felt like summer all year round. You can imagine what it must feel like to live in only one season.

In one of those endless summer days, —I believe two months after meeting Kallista— I went to see her. She strained against the bindings on her arm, feeling restless. She sat down on a large stone overlooking the legionnaires training against each other. She had a yearning look on her face as she massaged her arm. With her limb still mending, she was unable to fight. As much as it pained her, she was stuck looking on. She instinctively scratched the wrappings, silently praying that if she had but undid the bandages she would find that her arm was healed and once again she could make herself useful.

Taking a loaf of bread for my lunch, I thought it was a good excuse to share food with her so I could speak. I knew not what of, but I admit that Kallista fascinated me. Her prowess was unlike anything I had ever seen before. If more of my legion were like her, I would conquer the Blasted lands in no less than a single year. I sat down next to her on the rock and broke my loaf of bread in half, offering it to her.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

She cocked her eyebrow, almost puzzled for a moment before she took the loaf with her good hand and started to eat while I tore off a small crumb and popped it in my mouth.

“You envy them, the fighters.” I said in between chewing. “I can hardly blame you. If I were in your position, I would go mad with boredom and waiting. And trust me, I have been in that position.”

She wordlessly tore off a piece of her meal and ate. She chewed and finished her bite before speaking to me.

“I should have known that they were there waiting for me. I should have known I was being hunted. I feel stupid for not seeing it sooner. They caught me off guard and now I can’t do much of anything.”

Her complaints made me think about my own station when I was made infirm after my encounter with the bull. The thought of laying there helpless was enough to send shivers down my spine. Forced to stay in bed and feel my body waste away due to inactivity. We Roharim believe that our bodies are sacred. It's an incredible waste of one’s life if they never see the full potential that their body is capable of.

“You couldn’t have known.” I assured her, wanting to ease her tension and lessen if not fully remove the blame on her shoulders. “There were many of them and you were one. You killed them all in a display that would make even the Gods feel a cold sweat. I would say that it’s very admirable if not worthy of being placed in your very own saga.”

She simply bit into the bread again, feeling her stomach rumble and practically begging her for sustenance. She stared at the training grounds, her fingers still stroking her bandages.

“I just want to be rid of this so I can train again. It's like I can feel my arm atrophy as we speak. I come all this way, and I feel like I am dead weight.”

“Dead weight? Far from it.” I corrected her and gave her a stern look. “When you are healed, you will be highly valued. Anyone who can kill that many soldiers on their own and live to tell the tale is worth ten times their weight in gold.”

She smiled very lightly. I almost couldn’t see it. She turned her head away from me so I couldn’t see her reaction.

“It…wasn’t that many.”

I chuckled lightly and patted her shoulder. She needed some comfort, and I was there to provide it. However, not all was still in my kingdom. I didn’t know it then, but Domia had been watching. Weeks prior to my talk with Kallista, she had given birth. She had given the legion a son. She was blessed with the privilege of having the first son of the legion born. As such, he was named “Optimus.” The destiny I laid out for Optimus would be simple. Not knowing who his father was, He would become a leader of men in the new generation of my empire. But he was nothing more than an infant cradled in his mother’s arms. A mother whose eyes lingered on me. She wanted to be far more than a concubine.

She left just as I turned around to see her walking, having felt her eyes upon me but not the reason. I continued my talk with Kallista and enjoyed the precious few moments with her.

***

After a while I walked with Kallista so she could get a better view of the training. She saw men and women alike being pushed to become better versions of themselves. Hardened warriors that wouldn’t know the meaning of the word “retreat” and to whom, fear was as foreign as a concept as a man in our time walking on the moon.

She stared at the training dummies for a while, eager to get her arm free from its bindings before it was too late. I saw her anticipation and decided to try something. I picked up two wooden swords and handed one to her. She took it in her good arm and then cocked her eyebrow. She looked up at me and gave me a confused look.

“Train with me.” I gave her a sly little smirk before I put the sword in my left hand. I wanted to train my skills with a blade so that I could copy her.

She simply looked at me. Perhaps in ordinary circumstances, she would not even bat an eye to it. However, she had been restless and desired at least a small crumb of levity. She took a battle stance and prepared to strike. I admit, I didn’t think I would be able to do much, and of course, I was right. The moment I made the first move, she swung her blade and knocked the sword out of my hand. I was stupefied. I expected to lose but not that quickly. She smirked at me and flicked her wooden blade at me.

I walked backward, moving to where the sword was. One must never turn your back on an enemy. I crouched down, picked up my blade and assumed the position again.

“Once more with feeling.” I smiled as I positioned myself again. This time, I wouldn’t let myself be disarmed so easily. She tried the same strike again. It was hard since I wasn’t using my dominant hand. Her blow against my blade hurt, but I refused to let go. I parried and blocked, though she had the advantage of being perfectly able to use both hands. I knew I could never match her, but I would be prepared if my arm was disabled. I’m not so vain that I would say that I’ve learned everything. A true sign of wisdom is admitting that you don’t know everything.