What’s more concerning is what my other generals tell me. Legosia seems to be spending as much time with his captured prisoners as he seems to with the other military commanders.
What is it in their words that’s turning the old brute’s brain?
-From The Last King of Elneshe’s 9th Note.
When Yennel arrived at the Stronghold, Dolish was surprised. The young Lieutenant General hadn’t informed him ahead of time, bursting into his office at a random time of day with a group of soldiers beside him. He saluted the General before speaking.
“Hello, General Venastian. Are you well?” the Lieutenant General asked, moving forward with a confident stride. Dolish had a pen held in his hand, paused in the air and dripping with ink. Yennel waved a hand behind him and the soldiers closed the doors, leaving the both of them alone.
Dolish wasn’t afraid, but he didn’t set down his writing hand either. He stared at the young Lieutenant General, looking for signs of a Devourer’s trickery.
“Lieutenant General. I didn’t know you’d be visiting,” Dolish replied, calming the tension in his shoulders.
“Sorry, I should have. But the matter at hand was a bit too important to wait for,” Yennel chuckled, grabbing a seat in front of the General and smiling.
“May I?” he asked and Dolish nodded. Yennel sat down and layed his hands on his lap, letting out a breath.
“That matter being?” Dolish asked him.
“You put in a request with the Armon to explore Sanasira, didn’t you? I was wondering why that was?” Yennel asked him.
“I want to see how much further we can explore. It may be possible to find the weapon’s location if I use my powers to help the expedition,” Dolish offered. He didn’t mention the other reason, and the visit from a certain thief he’d received. Yennel had his own secrets, the letters he’d received being chief among them.
If the man wouldn’t reveal them to Dolish, then what reason had the General to trust him?
“Understandable. But are you sure of leaving the Stronghold undefended? An attack could come at any time, after all,” Yennel replied.
“I’ve sent orders to my subordinates. We have a Commander on reserve for any orders in case of an attack, and His Sharpness himself gave me the go ahead on the operation. I think there’s no need for you to worry, Lieutenant General,” Dolish told him.
“Still, I feel as though it’s a mistake doing it now, General Venastian. Could I at least persuade you to take along some of my men, at the very least? Your counsel is a great asset and losing it would be a large blow to our soldiers’ morale.”
“I can bring my own troops, thank you,” Dolish told him.
“Really, General, just for this expedition! I promise I won’t ask anything else of you. In fact, I’ll supply some of my troops to the Stronghold in the meanwhile!” Yennel asked again.
Dolish didn’t want to argue further with the Lieutenant General. And the idea of an attack being launched while he was gone did scare him a bit. Losing such a vital asset so soon after gaining it would hurt their future chances in the war. The more that happened, the harder it became to recoup their losses, to expand further instead of toiling over the same scraps again and again.
“Fine, Yennel. You win, I’ll take them along,” Dolish told him. The Lieutenant General gave him a debonair smile, but the expression had little effect on Dolish.
“You won’t regret this, General. I’ll leave the hallowmancers I’ve already brought. I should get to writing up those orders for my troops, then!” Yennel said, standing up from his chair and glancing a look at the documents on Dolish’s table. There were only the same sorts of military reports that the General handled, mixed with letters from the other Ministers and Generals.
Yennel nodded at Dolish and swung open the door once more, disappearing from the sight of the General.
****
A few days later, Dolish stood on the outskirts of the Stronghold, surrounded by a retinue of Bladeborn and soldiers along with his honour guard. He chanced a look at the stone walls of Latren, praying that they would hold as long as he was gone.
Those bricks have taken enough punishment as it is, he thought as he spoke with his second-in-command. He bemoaned the fact that he didn’t have a trusty right hand for the Stronghold, having to leave Vaness with him to assist with running the fortress.
He knew for a fact she could stay cool in a grave situation, which is why he trusted her for this mission. Jerre, Borne and the rest of his honour guard would go along with him, deep into the city and its defences.
“If they come from the skies, deploy the Afterburners. Catapults won’t be of any use against them. Protect the front gate at all costs, and keep watch of anyone on the horizon. Send only half the Afterburners and keep the others in supply in case of an ambush, understood?” Dolish fired off orders at his second-in-command, who nodded along feverishly at every sentence. He could tell the man wasn’t used to this sort of responsibility, but hoped that he would rise to meet it.
The man saluted once Dolish was done and marched back into the fortress, Vaness following behind him with quick steps. She turned back only to acknowledge Dolish and the rest of his honour guard, just as the portcullis slammed down in front of her.
Dolish turned to his party, the two dozen or so men that would accompany him, and nodded. They seemed ready for his orders, standing at attention and looking at him.
“Our mission today is simple, soldiers. We’re to move deeper into Sanasira and investigate the location of the weapon hidden there. Afterburner reports tell us of a large structure at the back of the city, which we assume to be a palace of some sort.
“That palace is going to be our destination. You all better be prepared. Now, march!” Dolish shouted, the soldiers forming into lines and beginning the trek. In front of them lay a well-trodden path that had faded from sight long ago.
That same path led them forward, up into the distance where peaks rose up into the sky and tried to reach towards clouds. It was a cold day, and they would be getting colder moment by moment. Dolish knew that was an omen of what was to come.
To avoid that wretched winter, Dolish moved forward with long strides. With every step, what the King of Thieves told him echoed in his mind.
****
Galeon looked down at the soldiers from high in the sky. Ranks of them were lined up and marching, towards a Stronghold that was still out of sight. Galeon always felt uneasy looking at them. All he could think of when he saw them was the raising of a hanging rope, or a blade about to chop down on helpless, soft flesh.
He shook the thoughts out of his mind, glancing at the other Afterburners instead. They were delivering messages between the companies of soldiers, Dukes and Duchesses managing the entire army marching forward.
Stele, stocky as ever, flew in front of Galeon.
“They must really want to take Latren back. This is almost a third of our entire force,” he noted.
“That’s why we need to move quickly. So, we can come back just as fast,” Ninel told him.
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“Still, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many soldiers in one place. Have you, Galeon?” Stele asked, grabbing the young Afterburner’s attention.
“Yeah… I don’t think I have. We should get to the front,” Galeon replied, blasting away from the both of them and towards the helm of the operation. He streamed past the other Afterburners and the soldiers marching on the ground.
At the end of the army stood his little squadron, except most of the people in it were missing at the moment. Isildan and Emile walked in silence, neither of them talking as far as Galeon knew. He felt an awkward mood in the air, but proceeded towards them despite it.
“Emile! Isildan! How are you both holding up!” Galeon asked them.
“As good as can be hoped, I guess,” Emile yawned. He seemed at ease, even though they’d been marching for hours at this point. It was Isildan who was winded, in fact, breathing heavily as he was.
“Isil, are you fine? Why aren’t you refreshing yourself?” Galeon asked, placing a hand on his Planar friend. Isildan patted the hand, but shook his head.
“I need to conserve my strength. I guess Emile’s just the better of us in long treks,” Isildan replied.
“Other things, too…” Emile muttered to himself.
“You should use some of it at least, Isil. Can’t be having you collapse before we even start our work,” Galeon told him.
“Maybe…”
Galeon ruffled through his pockets and produced a bewllan crystal, flicking it at Isildan.
“Use that if you’re so paranoid.”
Isil let out a deep breath, straightening his back and seeming to concentrate. His eyes did not glow, but the colour drained from the bewllan crystal as he drank from it. He threw it back at Galeon, who shoved it back into his pockets.
“We’ll be there in a few hours or so, Isil. You and Emile should split off to the side when it’s time for us to leave,” Galeon told him.
The both of them nodded, and then silence resumed. The three of them didn’t want to talk further, not when they knew what was coming.
They saw an Afterburner well before the top of Latren came into sight. The hallowmancer looked surprised to see them, zipping off before they could capture him. Galeon and Isildan took that as a sign, splitting off from each other.
Isil created a portal and urged Emile through, while Galeon took to the skies to guide back the other Afterburners. Ninel and Raya were the ones assigned to him.
“This isn’t good. You should’ve brought Janel along too, Galeon,” she said.
“Novi was the one to pick the teams. If she thinks you and Ninel are the ones for this, I don’t think I can argue,” Galeon replied.
“Maybe you should’ve…” Raya pouted.
“Are we going to have to pick up your buddies?” Ninel asked.
“No!... Maybe… only Emile until we reach the start of the city.”
“Why bring him along, anyway? He’s a sitting duck between the three of us and that Planar,” Ninel asked.
“Emile’s good at tracking and espionage. Best I know. I think that’s why Novi picked him.”
“Well, let’s see if the pretty boy can live up to it,” Raya added as the three of them landed. Emile was leaning against a tree while Isildan looked through a hand sized portal. Just as they’d convened, a crowd of screams grabbed their attention.
From afar, they saw the Phasgorian soldiers begin to run towards the horizon. Red stars fell from the sky among them and Galeon flinched. The battle had begun
“They shouldn’t have been there so early! We shou-” He shouted as he began to apply jets.
“We have our mission, Leon. We can’t abandon it,” Isil said, quiet but assured. Galeon tried to shake off the hand he’d placed on him, but the Planar wouldn’t let go.
“Tsk, fine,” Galeon conceded. He turned away from the fight, the shouts growing louder by the second. Ninela and Raya had already applied their jets, the lanky blonde and dark-skinned Afterburner floating in the air.
Emile peeled himself away from the tree and walked towards the two of them, sizing them up.
“Which of the two of you are getting the honour of carrying me?” he asked the both of them. Ninel’s eyes twitched and he flew right past the both of them, leaving Raya to bear the burden.
She grabbed Emile by the shoulders, raising him up into the air with a strength that didn’t befit her frame. Emile, for his part, fell quiet as the woman carried him. Galoen would’ve made fun of the man, but he wasn’t feeling in the mood.
“Come on, then, Leon. We should leave, too,” Isil told him once more. Galeon rose into the air and grabbed Isil much in the same way Raya had. The two of them then flew into the air and sped up, flying towards the mountains that surrounded Sanasira.
****
“Can you slow down!” Emile shouted; his voice lost to the wind as they flew past the battle.
“Just bear with it, Emile!” Galeon consoled him, though his own passenger wasn’t as easily placated.
“I could just use my portals, Leon!” Isil said.
“No! We’ll need them by the time we get there!” Galeon shouted back, and Isil sagged just a bit. They were in the skies, clouds above them as they sailed towards Sanasira. With every moment the city came a bit closer, and their bewl ran a bit drier.
In the heat of the moment, none of the five there noticed something falling from the clouds. It crashed into Raya just then, loosening her grip and sending Emile plummeting to the ground.
Emile screamed and Raya tried to adjust herself in the air. Galeon rushed before stopping, forgetting his own passenger.
Isil was the one to react first. He raised his hand in the air and a portal appeared near Emile. He missed it by a hand’s length, Isil cursing as he closed it.
“Hurry, Isil!” Galeon shouted and the man scrunched his eyebrows.
“I’m trying!” he shouted back. Another portal, this one much closer to the ground. Another one appeared near Raya, and Emile fell through it. He landed in her arms, sending her back in the air. She grunted as Emile latched onto her.
Away from them, Ninel was engaged with a duo of Afterburners, weaving around them in the air and avoiding slashes from their blades.
Galeon wanted to intervene, but the weight of Isildan put him at a disadvantage. He glanced for a second at Raya, and muttering an apology, threw Isil at her.
“Agh!” She shouted as the second body hit her.
“Sorry! I’ll make it up to you!” Galeon shouted back as he zipped towards their attackers.
The ambushers didn’t hide their allegiance, clothed in the green of Ravenishtan. Galeon tackled one of the Ravenishtanis, sending the both of them tumbling through the air.
The Ravenishtani adjusted quickly, elbowing Galeon in the back until he released him. They both backed off into the air and the Ravenishtani rubbed his chest. He spat an illegible curse at Galeon and brought a talwar out of its sheathe.
He readied the blade in a single hand, leaving the other free. The Ravenishtani rushed towards Galeon, slashing wildly with the weapon. A few cuts broke through and Galeon’s hands were carved up.
He kept receding, shallow cuts the only injury he took. Galeon brought his feet and blasted back, pushing the Ravenishtani as well. He took his hand to the knife he kept sheathed, arming himself.
He wanted to speak a few words. Maybe convince the man to retreat. But he’d made the first move. Tried to kill Emile. There was no reasoning to be done, Galeon knew. No matter how much he wanted.
He blasted forward on his jets, freeing up his bewl to heal the cuts on his arms. The Ravenishtani didn’t expect the assault, not with such a small weapon. He was caught off-guard, but flew to the side to avoid Galeon’s lunge.
He used his free hand to grab Galeon’s, sending panic through the boy. Galeon raised his other hand, a talwar slamming down onto it and reaching bone. He grunted, the sharp pain narrowing his vision.
The Ravenishtani tried to take the blade out, but it seemed to be stuck. He loosened his grip just a bit and Galeon took the opening. He used the man’s grip against him, kicking with both his legs and splitting the both of them up.
The talwar came with Galeon, still lodged in his arm as it was. Galeon dropped his dagger, then the handle of the talwar as he tried to unstick it. The blade came out covered in blood, and Galeon had to free a large part of his remaining bewl to fix the hand.
He brandished the blade in one hand, the other reaching for crystals near his waist. He drank from those crystals, and it seemed the Ravenishtani had the same idea.
Galeon didn’t give him a chance, freeing his bewl to the jets and lurching forward with extreme speed. He reached the Ravenishtani, slashing once with the blade in his hand. Shorter than a spear, but with more cutting area, he easily sliced the Ravenishtani’s clothes.
He achieved his goal, shining crystals seeming to fall from where the Ravenishtani had been reaching. He tried desperately to reach for them, but Galeon grabbed him by the collar. He began to beat on the man, dropping the talwar as well.
He kept pummelling him, reinforcing each punch with bewl. Finally, one single knock to the head and the soldier went out cold. His jets disappeared and he began to drop, but Galeon grabbed him again.
He hung there in the air, breathing heavily and nursing the few remaining cuts that he had. The man in front of him was beaten, but not dead. Novi wouldn’t approve of that. He could let him drop, ending the issue right then and there, but that also seemed wrong.
In the end, Galeon couldn’t help who he was. He floated down to the ground, where he lay the man on the soft grass. Hopefully by the time they were done, he won’t have woken up, or else he’d be the one blamed.
Galeon sighed once more, picking his dagger off of the ground. Drinking in the bewl from the scattered crystals helped gain some of his lost bewl back, reinvigorating the Afterburner. He contemplated bringing the talwar as well, which had embedded itself into the dirt. But the weapon was of no use to him. He left it there, a twinge of regret for doing so, before he took off into the sky.
There, Ninel waited and nursed a wound. Raya was holding Emile and Isil both, who looked away from each other in a scene that seemed especially childish to Galeon.
“You took too long,” Ninel said, dried blood caking his forehead.
“Sorry, Ninel. Where’s the other…” Galeon asked. Ninel simply pointed down, where he saw a body lying broken on the grass. Blood was scattered under the body, and Galeon knew better than to ask.
“And yours?” Ninel asked, his eyes seeming a bit maddened to Galeon.
“Taken care of… Let’s move,” he told him.
“And take your Planar friend back! You know how heavy he is?” Raya complained. She held out Isil to Galeon, who hooked him by the shoulders once more. He looked towards the city of Sanasira, and how close it was approaching, bracing himself for the other challenges they’d meet in its ruins.