We need more defences. Legosia and Lune both assure me Sanasira is unbreachable, but day by day those mountains are looking smaller. What of when our buildings reach higher than those peaks? Any hallowed man or woman can crest them easily enough, and what’s stopping them from bringing an army along with them.
If I know anything from my own powers, it is that what we deem impossible is not so hard to achieve when you apply yourself. A weapon is what we need. And with my own two hands I will forge one. For us. For Elneshe.
-From The Recently Deciphered Notes of King Arneshal, 1st Grouping
The guards didn’t know what to do with Dolish. Should they be rough or soft? It was their own superior that they were handling, and none of them felt pleasant about that fact. That confusion carried into the cells as well.
Iron bars prevented escape from the prison. The bunks inside were made of wood and a single bucket sat for toiletry. When the soldiers saw the state of the prison, they couldn’t leave it be. Dolish sat there as they brought in pillows, blankets and cleaned up the room for him. The chair he sat on was missing a back, so they took it away and replaced it with something much more comfortable.
There were barely any lights inside of the walls, so they set up bewllan crystals to illuminate the place. They covered the bars leading outside, hiding it with a curtain. And all throughout the beautification, they spoke respectfully to the General.
“Is there anything else we can do for you, General?” one of the soldiers asked, as if he was still under Dolish’s command.
“I don’t need any of these decorations, soldier. Why place them here?” Dolish asked him.
“We thought… maybe you’d have a more pleasant stay?” the soldier said.
“I’m a prisoner now. I didn’t know we’d started treating them so well,” Dolish said sarcastically.
“You may be, General, but we still hold you in high regard. We can’t simply leave you in a place like this without some comforts,” the soldier said. He saluted Dolish, which made him chuckle, before moving out of the cell and locking it behind him.
Dolish hung his head low, wondering why he’d blown up like that. It could well have been possible that someone manipulated him, but he knew better. His anger had boiled over seeing Yennel, and he thought little of the consequences that followed.
He looked around his cell, the small box feeling suffocating despite the luxury. Perhaps I deserve this. A wild dog under the control of the greatest leader is still a wild dog. There was no controlling an animal that refused to yield. Better to put them down or lock them up.
A shadow appeared near Dolish’s feet, and he knew who it was. He looked up and the Armon was there, face blank and standing behind the bars.
Dolish wanted to stand up to greet him, but his legs carried no strength.
“Hello, Your Sharpness,” he simply said with a nod of his head. The Armon didn’t reply, staring at him as Dolish hung his head again.
“You’re tired, Dolish,” he stated as a fact.
“Yes, I am, Your Sharpness.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen an outburst from you. I always prided myself on having you as my General, you understand?” the Armon said, each word carefully put together.
“I thought you the ideal of what a Ravenishtani soldier should be. Strong, confident, but most of all, responsible.”
“Your Sharpness, Yennel is not to be trusted. He did send soldiers after me and my honour guard. If you don’t believe me, at least believe them!” Dolish said looking up to meet his Armon’s gaze.
“Do you understand how many people love Yennel, Dolish?” the Armon asked simply.
“Many. They’re blinded by the front that he puts on.”
“No, they’re grateful for his protection. When Birralia was about to be conquered, most everyone thought that we’d starve out here. Yet who saved them, Dolish? Prevented their demise by famine?”
“Yennel, Your Sharpness.”
“And why would he risk life and limb, to sign a truce for us, if not to help? If he’s as treacherous as you claim him to be, he should’ve well enough let us starve!”
“Because he knows, Your Sharpness. When to play his hand and when he should keep it hidden. I don’t know what Yennel’s end goals are, but you cannot let him go unpunished,” Dolish begged.
The Armon sighed and waved a hand in front of him. A guard appeared from outside, saluting the Armon as he entered.
“Open the door. I want to talk to the General face to face,” Armon Mortici ordered. The soldier hesitated for barely a moment before complying.
Mortici entered the room and took a seat on the only other chair there. Even inside of a prison cell, he retained the aura of a ruler. He glanced over at the guard, who hadn’t left.
“Leave, now. General Venastian won’t hurt me,” He ordered and the guard stomped out of there. Once again, the only two people left in the room were Dolish and his Armon.
“We’re in a very precious situation here, Dolish. I know this war to end, and I swear on my Form I do as well, but if we were to leave now the consequences would be disastrous. King Selerin may want the weapon in Elneshe to protect himself, but what happens once those threats are dealt with?
“Kings have absolute power. Do you think he’ll simply store the weapon and vow to never use it? No, he’ll find another situation where he finds it ‘necessary’ to use, and then another after that. That’s why we cannot look weak in front of the enemy.”
“If you let Yennel just slip past with all of his actions, he’ll become a much bigger threat than the Phasgorian king,” Dolish told the Armon.
“Maybe he will. Or maybe you’re wrong and the soldiers that attacked you were trying to distract from their true masters. Whatever it is, I cannot spare the effort for it. I execute Yennel now and the entire army splits.”
“There are still those who would follow you, Your Sharpness. I would follow you!” Dolish reasoned.
“All loyalty has its limits, Dolish. And for some in our country, those limits are fast approaching. Maybe when this is all over, it will be me who they spear through with a talwar. But until then, I won’t stop until we’ve gotten the weapon.”
Dolish stopped to think for a second. A blasphemous second, where he questioned the entire purpose they were here for.
“Do we… even need it, Your Sharpness? We’re set to lose more than we could ever gain,” Dolish asked.
The Armon sat back in his seat, an expression of dread coming over his face.
“I’ve received reports, General. The northern towns have been slowly demolished by South Gejsa. The port towns are almost completely taken over. What little our men stationed there could bring back about the situation didn’t sound optimistic.”
“There have been reports?” Dolish asked, exacerbated.
“Yes, ones I’ve kept hidden from most except those I trust. I was going to tell you about them, but it seems now it’s more important than ever.
“They’ve a new kind of Bladeborn with them. One that can breathe underwater, live there forever it seems,” the Armon said, shattering Dolish’s thoughts.
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“The glow, it’s… something similar to yours. Except lighter, like the colour of the sky in the day. I don’t know what other powers these kinds of Bladeborn have, but one thing is clear to me. We cannot beat them with our resources. They’ve only done glancing attacks with a small number of attackers, but the damages will take years to repair.”
Dolish took a moment. All his life, he’d thought there to be five of the kind. Afterburners, Planars, his own kind, Commanders, Soulweavers, though little in number they were and Devourers.
To find a sixth. And one that none of them had seen, it scared him. How many of them were there? And how had they gone unnoticed for so long? If the South Gejsan barbarians weren’t enough to deal with, they now had a more pressing problem to deal with. The Formless Unmaker had sent his own personal demons to destroy Ravenishtan.
“So, do you see the need now?” The Armon asked.
“I… I do,” Dolish replied, though the words were hard to speak.
“Good. Now I want you to recant that statement that you made about Yennel. You were tired, and you had to deal with an assault from your own soldier. That should be enough,” the Armon said, standing up from the seat. Without even being told to, Dolish stood up as well, though his head still hung low.
Why even go after Yennel, then? His Sharpness is right, there are more important matters at hand, Dolish thought as he followed the Armon out of the cell.
“Your honour guard is waiting outside with my own. Get some rest tonight, General Venastian. The taking of Latren may have been a huge loss, but that was unavoidable given the circumstances,” the Armon said.
The circumstances?... How did the Phasgorians know I would be gone? It could have been a cruel twist of events. Perhaps Dolish had gotten unlucky. But that didn’t make sense. Neither he nor his Afteburners had seen Phasgorian patrols. Then how?
Even without thinking, he knew the answer. Yennel. Would two separate Generals plan his downfall? Or was it more likely that Yennel had leaked the information, as another certainty to have Dolish killed. His fists clenched further, but Dolish didn’t speak on the matter.
His Sharpness didn’t need more enemies. This one, Dolish would handle himself. And if he couldn’t just kill the man outright, he’d instead find out what Yennel was hiding.
Dolish, along with the rest of the soldiers present outside, saluted the Armon as he left them. He took his own honour guard with him, and Dolish prayed on his Form that he wouldn’t need them.
****
Leane was surprised at the hospitality she was receiving. As soon as the good doctor had heard the words out of her mouth, he’d run outside. The man at the front, the one who’d called himself Galeon, had assured her he would be back, but it still confused her.
“He’s just excited. But what did you mean by that, Leane?” Galeon asked her.
“I… I don’t know.”
“Are you sure you can’t remember anything from before we found you?” Isildan asked.
“No… nothing at all. What was I doing there?” she asked the four of them. The one with the handsome face, Emile, spoke up.
“You were unconscious. Laying on the ground like you’d passed out. No wounds though,” he told her.
“I think I still feel a bit of an ache…” Leane said, rubbing her arms.
“All the wounds must have been internal. Maybe once you heal up, you’ll remember,” the only other girl, Noviselle said.
“Was there anything else beside me when you found me, Emile?” she asked. He shook his head.
“Nothing I can remember. Sorry,” he replied. She looked downcast, but shook her head.
“Maybe you’re right. I just need rest,” she said, in hopes of sounding optimistic.
Though that wouldn’t last. Outside, they heard several Afterburners and their jets. Galeon didn’t know the exact amount, but he counted at least seven. The flaps of the tent opened and numerous nobles poured inside. The space could barely contain them. The only other patient inside was about to start complaining, when he noticed who their new guests were.
Count Alusses, Grand Duchess Arelia, Duke Lambre Clasken, among others. All of them wore extravagant clothing, whether it was the more muted and uniform look of Clasken’s garb, or the eccentric dress that Duchess Arelia displayed. Alusses was wearing a suit, and tugging at it as if he’d just put it on and had no time to adjust.
There were other nobles besides those, but they stuck behind and watched instead of interfering.
“My Lords and Ladies, where is the King? Should he not be here to speak to the girl?” Noviselle took the initiative, and the rest of them were glad that she had. Novi had the most acumen out of the lot of them, given she was a Countess herself.
“The king will see to her after. We wanted to have a talk with her beforehand, to make sure she was safe to send over to His Highness,” Arelia said, brushing past Noviselle. She didn’t seem the bit interested in any of them, moving close to the bed and looking at the girl sat upon it.
“O-oh.., Hello there, your… Highness?” Leane said, following the examples of the others. That seemed to make Arelia chuckle though, easing the tension in the room a bit.
“No, I’m not nearly that influential. I’m just a simple duchess, child. How are you feeling?” she asked Leane, grabbing her hand and pressing it in her own. Lambre scoffed from behind, sticking near Galeon and his group.
“Stop poking the woman like an animal, Arelia. She’s just woken up,” he admonished her.
“But look at her, Clasken! She looks so abnormal!” Duchess Arelia replied, continuing in her examination of the woman. Leane seemed uncomfortable as the Duchess touched her eyes, but laughed it off awkwardly.
Arelia backed away after her examination, nodding to herself.
“In all my years, I’ve never seen someone like her, that much I can say,” the Duchess said.
“And I’m sure many of your suitors said that about you,” Lambre chimed in from behind. Everyone had the good sense not to laugh at the joke. All except Galeon, who elicited a look of confusion from Arelia.
“Step aside, Arelia; I’ll question the lass,” Duke Lambre said, and Arelia gave him an exaggerated bow as he walked past. Though the closer he approached, the more Leane seemed to shrink back.
“I’m not dangerous, girl. I just want to ask you some things,” he said, raising his hands to show himself freely. She seemed to recede a bit less, and Galeon raised an appreciative gesture from behind the duke. Leane softly laughed at his goofy smile, before Novi and the others pulled him down.
“What do you remember of your life?”
Leane shrugged. “Waking up right now.”
“What about your friends and family? Your mother and father?” Lambre asked. She shook her head.
“I can’t remember their names. Not even their faces…” her voice trailed off, and Duke Lambre looked sympathetic.
“I’m sorry about that, girl. But we’ll try to help you find them if we can. Now, do you know what you were doing inside of the city?”
“No…”
“Any belongings that you had?”
“No.”
“What about what you said. “Daughter of Elneshe.” Do you know what that name means. Elneshe?”
“I don’t…” Leane’s voice grew weaker as Duke Clasken badgered her with more questions. This continued on until the girl looked miserable, where upon Isildan placed a hand on the duke’s shoulders.
“Your Lordship, I don’t think this will lead to any answers,” he stated simply. And even the duke had to agree.
“You’re right. This is leading us nowhere,” Lambre admitted, running a hand through his hair and sighing.
“We should bring her to the king,” Arelia spoke up, waving for the others to clear a line. They formed up immediately, and the tent flaps were open for them to walk through.
“Where are you going to be taking me?” Leane asked the Duchess.
“It’s His Highness’ palace. You’ll be safe there, don’t worry,” Duke Clasken assured her. He twirled his bushy moustache as he spoke.
With the tent flaps open, the cold air was seeping into the tent. A breeze blew by and Leane shivered, covering herself with the blanket underneath her.
“She needs clothes first. It’s too cold out here,” Galeon told them and Duke Clasken nodded.
“She’ll get those at the palace as well, Galeon.”
“Are you going to give her a place to stay there?” Galeon asked her.
“We can’t put her with the troops, after all. I’m sure it’s big enough to accommodate the girl,” the duke told him. Galeon still worried though, for her safety and comfort.
“Just leave her to us, boy. Swear by Ventorius’ moon I won’t let anything happen to her,” Duke Clasken told him. Galeon nodded while Leane prepared to stand up. Doctor Vanon had come back and was helping her up, making sure she didn’t trip on her way out.
She was about to say something to Lambre, but paused herself and whispered into Doctor Vanon’s ears. The doctor whispered something back and she thanked him
“What is a palace like, your Lordship?” Leane asked innocently enough.
“A home fitted for a ruler,” Arelia chimed in.
“A bigger and richer stronghold,” Duke Clasken replied.
“A stronghold…. Made of stone… and filled with… bewllan?” Leane said, focusing on something invisible in front of her.
“Sometimes, I suppose. Something wrong, girl?” the duke asked her. Leane bore a look of recognition.
“I know a stronghold!” Leane shouted, and Arelia raised an eyebrow.
“Really? Where so?” she asked, intrigued by the young girl all over again.
“It’s… I swear I know it. It’s at the side o-of…”
“Sanasira?” Noviselle finished, and Leane smiled brightly.
“Exactly! The mountains. There’s a stronghold within the mountains!”
Duke Lambre twirled his moustache again, deep in thought.
“How do you know of it? We’ve been near that city for months and we haven’t found anything of the like,” he asked.
“It’s hidden! There are all kinds of bushes and grass hiding the structure. Under the ground. But it extends deep into the earth!” Leane explained.
“Another discovery we need to present to His Highness, then,” Duke Lambre mused. He turned to Galeon, as well as several of the other Afterburners present in the room.
“Before anything, though. I want you to pick out a team of Afterburners and check the location out. You wouldn’t be able to mark it on a map, would you, girl?” Lambre asked her.
She nodded in reply.
“Good, then someone hand me one so you can set out as soon as possible,” the duke finished. Galeon was glad to see his usual teammates in the crowd, and picked out Stele and Janel out of them along with Ninel and Raya.
While they left the confines of the room, Galeon took a moment to glance at Leane. She walked so delicately into the carriage, even as it lifted out of the sky. It was as though she was experiencing the wonders of hallowmancy for the first time, something him and many of his friends still remembered.
“You’ve picked a weird team for this one, Galeon,” Stele said. Raya and Ninel were stuck in their own conversation, laughing about something Galeon didn’t understand. He could only make out Emile’s name in the middle of it all, and thought it better to drop the subject.
“We’re going to have to make do with it. Is everyone ready?” Galeon asked, and the four of them said various forms of affirmations. It wasn’t the uniformity a leader should expect, and maybe Duke Clasken would hate that, but Galeon found it a much more alive answer.
“Then, let’s fly.”