I appointed him Remont, did I not? I gave him purpose, a country to protect, riches and the love of thousands. Was I wrong to do so? Was I, as king, to not let anyone close to me? To not have anyone I could consider like my family?

No, NO! I refuse to acknowledge that!

-From The Last King of Elneshe’s Mad Ramblings.

Dolish looked the words again, trying to find a different meaning. Armon, it still read. There were no letters missing, no scratches or knicks that he could find that would alter the spelling.

He was perplexed. A claim to the city, rightfully theirs, yet written in the language of their enemies. He held the helmet reverently in his hand, looking it over once again, when someone popped into the room.

A soldier saluted him, looking straight ahead as he spoke.

“We’re done searching the halls, sir! Afterburner Bark told us to inform you that they found something on their end!” He told in a clear and loud voice.

“Thank you, soldier. I’ll… be there in a moment,” Dolish told him. The soldier stomped away and Dolish glanced at the helmet one last time. Another time.

He walked out of the room, words in his heart trying to reach his brain. But those could be faced another time. He passed by a hallway full of tapestries, broken up oddly enough by what seemed to be a child’s drawings. They were amateurish and colourful, which clashed against the mighty and majestic sight of the tapestries.

Ignoring the sight, Dolish walked onwards to reach the other team. When he met up with Bark, the man looked a bit shaken. He was standing outside of an open door, Raisha on the other end talking with the soldiers.

“What’s wrong, Bark?” Dolish asked.

“Best if you see it yourself, General. It’s like a madman’s world.”

Dolish swallowed, then stepped inside of the room himself. The walls, ground, even the roof of the room, were all covered in scribbles. Writings so miniscule in size, but dense with information. The furniture, what remained intact, didn’t look to be in disuse. The words looked to be in that same ancient form of Antir, which would give the scholars some pause before they deciphered it.

Skulls littered the tops of the tables, stacked high and in a decorative fashion. Had the Last King really been that deranged? Dolish wondered.

“They’re on every inch of the room. Some on the doors themselves, even,” Bark said, scared of them.

“There are sounds too, Dolish. I don’t know where they’re coming from, but I hear them. Some of the other soldiers do as well, thinking their minds are tricking them. I don’t like this.”

“We need to copy all of this down,” Dolish replied, barely giving a thought to what Bark had said. “Bring the soldiers in here. We’re going to need every hand we can spare.

The entirety of the expedition began to crowd the room. And though it was spacious, they took up a large part of it. Borne and Bark had flown upwards, taking rubbings of the notes that were sketched on the roof. The entire operation continued like that for an hour or so, before the sun went down and they had to use their torches.

Dolish grew more impressed with the King of Thieves. How he took the rubbings that he had and made it out alive, he would never know.

“Would be easier to make these rubbings if you’d use your powers, Dolish,” Borne complained, hands covered in charcoal.

“We never know when we could need the powers, Borne. And this way, you don’t become reliant on me,” Dolish fired back, taking rubbings of his own from the far wall.

Though he was inclined to agree with Borne, for there was something brewing here. He didn’t notice it at first. Not from his own men or honour guard, but some of the soldiers moved weirdly. Yennel’s men stuck close to each other, glancing ever so often at Dolish or the others.

Dolish, on a whim, activated his Commander powers, startling the rest of the soldiers. He couldn’t read their thoughts exactly, but their emotions conveyed enough for him. All of them were a bit tense and tired. But almost unanimously, Yennel’s men were more nervous. As if waiting for something to go wrong.

Or perhaps, they’re readying themselves for something wrong.

“Ah, that makes this much easier!” Borne shouted from above. He moved around, organizing the notes he’d taken from the ceiling and placing them on the table. Dolish’s men tied up the bundle and kept it secure in one of their packs, while the rest of them continued their work.

He spoke into the mind of that soldier, giving him a command no one else could hear. Don’t be alarmed. If something goes wrong, run, soldier. You’re currently the most important asset we’ve got. Don’t look at me, don’t act surprised.

The soldier paused for a second, glancing at Dolish for a split second before returning to his work as if nothing had happened. Good, Dolish thought, resuming his own efforts.

He stepped away from the walls a moment later, heading towards the pile of notes that they’d gathered and placing his own work on top. Several soldiers decided to do the same, walking almost pace to pace with the old General until they reached it.

Dolish tried to step away, to continue, but no one gave him an opening. They stood there still, looking at him blankly with quivering eyes.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“What’s wrong, soldier?” Dolish asked, keeping his voice level. The man in front of the squad looked surprised, darting his eyes between his comrades to look for an answer.

“I asked, what’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be collecting more rubbings?” Dolish asked.

They didn’t speak again, and now the entire room was staring at the soldier. Sweat flowed down his head and he took shallow breaths. And then it finally broke.

He screamed so loud it echoes down the halls, and lunged at Dolish. Immediately, another beacon of blue light burst from one of Yennel’s soldiers, and Dolish squinted.

Damnit. They have Bladeborn! Dolish shouted to the others with his hallowmancy. The man who’d lunged at him struck with an enhanced blow, but Dolish swept it aside with his hand. It hit the desk beside him and broke it, while Dolish backed off.

Borne, Bark, protect the soldiers. They’re carrying the rubbings! Dolish ordered them, as a green tinted portal opened up next to him. Out of it jumped Jerre, his skin stony and rough looking. He engaged the Bladeborn Dolish had been fighting, as two more swooped down from the sky at him.

Afterburners picked him up by the shoulders and carried him through the window. They crashed through the glass and dropped him onto the grassy hill below. Dolish rolled onto the ground and stopped, standing up to face the both of them.

“Why did Yennel put the both of you up to this!” Dolish shouted at the both of them.

The twin Afterburners stared daggers into him, before slowly floating down and far away from him. Dolish nudged their emotions just the right way to make them confess, hoping it would work.

“You wouldn’t know, General, would you? You and the rest of your ilk. You just use us, and keep using us until there’s nothing left to squeeze out,” one of the Afterburners spat to the side.

“I’ve been trying to end this war! Can’t you see that?!” Dolish shouted, trying to reason with them.

“I don’t care about the war. Even without it, you’d keep taking advantage of Bladeborn like us.”

Dolish brushed the shards of glass off of his shoulders, straightening himself up to face the Afterburner. His Commander field still shone brightly, casting everything with a deep blue light.

“If you surrender, I can promise you that won’t happen again. Just help me testify against Yennel, and you’ll be sent home to your families. I’ll make sure no one in the army would ever bother you again!” Dolish offered the man. But he simply shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he replied, Dolish sensing sadness well up in the man’s spirit. They dived at him again, but Dolish rolled out of the way and unsheathed his knife. If only I’d brought a bow.

When they came for him a third time, Dolish grabbed one of them by the scruff of the neck. He was lifted off of his feet and into the night air, where a moon hung in the sky and stars behind it.

“Get off of me!” the Afterburner shouted, but Dolish hung on with a fierce grip. He guided the Afterburner around by the neck, and they circled around before hitting the side of the hill directly. Dolish separated from the Afterburner, standing up not a second sooner. When he looked down at him, he found the man’s neck twisted at the wrong angle and clicked his tongue in disgust.

“I don’t want to kill you, soldier. Please, just listen to reason,” Dolish said out loud, hoping the man would stop. But he didn’t. Instead, he took Dolish by surprise and tackled him off of the ground. They flew around the palace, Dolish barely dodging the pillars by adjusting himself in the air.

They’d moved towards the front of the palace again, where marble pillars hung in rows supporting part of the roof. The Afterburner slammed him into multiple columns, each one sending a shock of pain through Dolish as he did. And though it hurt him, he kept his grip still on his dagger.

He plunged the small knife into the Afterburner’s back. A gasp escaped his mouth as he let go of Dolish and they both dropped. They skid across the front of the palace, smooth flooring separating them.

Dolish’s head swam with sensation, but he still stood up again. He’d lost control of his hallowmancy and it had dissipated. In front of him, the Afterburner was struggling on the ground, healing his back. Dolish pumped bewl through his own body, though the pain there was harder to remove. He stepped forward slowly, his mind wandering and confused.

When the Afterburner tried to stand up, Dolish kneeled on his arms. He held a knife to the Afterburner’s neck, the point just barely above his skin.

“Give up, soldier. You’re beaten,” Dolish said as his mind cleared a bit.

“Never, Formless scum,” the Afterburner said, his eyes sharp and shaking with rage.

“What have I done to you to warrant this? What slight did I perform against you?” Dolish asked. When the man didn’t answer, Dolish pressed his knife closer to his skin.

“Do you know how long they’ve kept me here? The past year. All of it. No breaks, no days given to see my family,” the Afterburner said.

“That was your General’s doing, not mine!”

“You’re all at fault! Only Lieutenant General Yennel! Only he actually cared of my treatment! When my daughter died at home, only then was I given leave! Only then was I allowed to grieve! And for what? Just so I could come back to this miserable battlefield where monsters thrived?” the Afterburner shouted.

“Only Yennel… Only he consoled me of her death. Told me how I could avenge her. Only he…”

The man began to sob, but Dolish’s hand did not waver.

“Just kill me now. I won’t tell you anything. I’m just a dead man walking,” he said, his eyes no longer looking at Dolish. They stared off into nothing instead.

Dolish obliged, plunging the blade into the man’s neck and ending his life. When he stood up from the corpse, he felt disgust again, some for himself, some for Yennel, and the rest for everyone else. The Afterburner lay bleeding out, everything but his powers having been taken from him already.

He couldn’t spare the effort for prisoners. Not in a hostile war zone and not a Bladeborn. He muttered a small prayer for him instead, hoping that he would begin again in his Form someday.

When he was done, he heard screams coming from the direction of the city. He cocked an eyebrow, confused, before a young Afterburner flew up into the air. Dolish could only see him under the red glow of his jets, but he knew the boy to be Phasgorian just from his looks.

This isn’t good. Why are they here? He thought to himself. He tried to mentally send a command to Raisha and the others, but forgot that his field had long since been turned off. And well enough that it was, or else the boy might’ve seen Dolish there in front of the palace.

The boy dived back in between the buildings and Dolish waited. A few moments later, a green tinted portal appeared in front of Dolish. Through it, he saw a corpse being held by Borne and ground his teeth in anger. Jerre’s eyes were closed, and if not for the frowns around him, he would’ve thought the soldier asleep.

When he walked through the portal and laid a hand on his friend’s hand, it was cold. Leadership is a weight we bear willingly, Dolish sighed as he stopped clasping Jerre’s hands.

“Yennel’s men?” Dolish asked Bark.

“Dead or gone. They took some of the rubbings with them, too.”

“And we?”

“We got most of the damned papers, what else?” Borne cut in. Dolish hadn’t the energy to berate him.

“We need to get out of here. There are Phasgorians here, and they’ve got Bladeborn with them,” Dolish told the rest of them. Borne looked as though he wanted to say something, but he kept his feelings reserved to a scowl. They gathered up the rest of the soldiers, some of which had died to more traps laid around the palace, and started to walk out of the city. It would be a long trek indeed, and one they’d have to make with a corpse amongst them.