Maybe it’s not too late to make it up to him. It’s a thought that comes to me sometimes. If we were to forgive each other, perhaps we could rebuild Sanasira together?
Would Legosia even accept it, considering how far we’ve gone in tearing each other down? But the alternative is worse. Mutually assured destruction, and not a single line in history will remain for either of us.
-From The Recently Deciphered Notes of King Arneshal, 1st Grouping
Rozu hadn’t been ready for the announcement. They’d been told to immediately gather their equipment, and needed to be out in the field in a moment. Having nothing else to do, Rozu had arrived early. He saw a group of Planars, large enough to carry armies, stationed at the front.
There were ranks of soldiers, so numerous Rozu wondered who they were going to be fighting against. It seemed every single able-bodied man and woman was standing ready for war. Then, in the distance, Rozu spotted a single elephant leading a pack of Bladeborn.
He knew that elephant. It was His Sharpness’ personal ride. The thought that such a stupid beast shared his abilities disgusted Rozu.
But the man riding the beast, it was the Armon himself. Finally doing your own dirty work, are you? He thought. The man was dressed in ornamental armour, staring ahead with quivering eyes.
Rozu grunted. His eyes were red. Was the thought of coming out into battle himself so terrifying that the man had cried beforehand? But that wasn’t it, he knew, because Rozu overheard whispers. His old squadron was fast approaching him. Not wanting to engage with the traitors, Rozu started moving away until he overheard something peculiar.
“I can’t believe it… They just killed General Feranz, like that?” Tanz said.
“What?” Rozu asked, catching his squadron’s attention. Tanz stuttered for a bit, facing his old squadron leader.
“Speak up, Tanz! General Feranz was killed? By who?” Rozu asked.
“D-didn’t you see what happened?” Tanz asked.
“They assassinated him in the middle of camp, Rozu! Where were you?” Sazir said. He recoiled backwards. Was that what the commotion had been about? Rozu looked outward to where the Armon was sat.
He was so still it made Rozu wonder if the man was alive at all. Tsk, even he didn’t deserve that. There was nothing he could say to make the Armon feel better.
“Don’t ruin my squadron’s reputation,” Rozu told his old soldiers, then walked forward. He was placed next to the other singular Devourers. A man helmed them and shouted orders, but Rozu tuned him out.
His attention was squarely in front of him, where the Planars were ripping open a portal that was the size of an elephant. The portal seemed to grow more and more, and Rozu wondered how far they could really stretch it. Beyond it lay a field of grass and hills extending past the horizon.
He supposed that the Armon had called all of his Planars for this, but the thought still boggled his mind. The portal refused to stop, growing until it was big enough to fit the entire army through it.
Rozu patted the side of his pants, feeling the Katar that lay beyond it. Then, he marched, along with the other Bladeborn, right through the portal.
Travel through a Planar’s powers could be disorienting sometimes, but Rozu felt none of that as he crossed. Instead, he simply stepped onto a new landscape. At the head of the army were war elephants, lined up with generals upon them. Some of them were Commanders, and activated their field.
He felt a distinct order resound in his mind.
March.
And so they did. All as a single unit, they marched forward with heavy boots.
“There’s smoke coming out of the forest!” someone said from behind him. it was only a tiny wisp in the horizon, and Rozu could already see a few Afterburners running back and forth from it.
“Keep your eyes forward, soldier,” Rozu reprimanded the grunt. The trooper looked back at Rozu and scowled.
“We’re the same rank. Don’t act like you’re better,” he spat at Rozu’s feet. It angered him, and his Katar felt all the more present in his mind. But Rozu desisted. He scoffed and looked forward, marching along with the rest of the army.
They crested several hills, coming to a flat along their journey when another command came.
Stop!
The entire army stopped all at once. Planars moved forward from their positions, and another portal began springing up.
****
They’d marched for hours on end— the sun having risen— when, finally, someone had spoken up. It’d been right as they’d come out of another portal.
“There! There’s the scout and Planar!” shouted a man with a spyglass. He pointed to two small specks near the edge of a large hill.
Devourer Squadron 5, ready yourself for transport!
Though it’d been a while, Rozu recognized the orders. He and his teammates split off from the greater army, moving towards a small group of Planars. Those Planars ripped open a portal of their own, and Rozu saw the other end appear on the hill next to the scout and Planar.
They ran through the portal in formation, but the fleeing Phasgorians had already disappeared. Rozu ran up the hill to see their destination, but found something else awaiting him. the other Devourers cowered back in fear, dropping their weapons and running back to the core formation. There was another army here.
Horses clopped along dirt, led by a banner bearing soldier. Behind the cavalry lay a boggling number of infantries, walking with spears in their hands. Afterburners floated low in the skies, just out of sight for any would-be spotters, all the while Planars brought new contraptions through to the battlefield.
Behind even those, trebuchets and catapults were being loaded up with Commanders on standby, and though Rozu was not one himself, he could feel the emotions of the people there.
They were ready for an attack. Had they really been marching for so long, that they’d reached near the camp of Phasgoria?
Rozu risked a glance back at his Armon. He’s not giving glancing blows anymore. He wants to crush them all! Rozu approved. They’d taken a swipe at the son of His Sharpness, what else would be recompense?
A smile crept along Rozu’s face, and he brought out his Katar. A portal opened up behind him, and he could see his own country moving forward. He jumped into the fray eagerly, brandishing the dagger in one hand.
Soldiers readied their weapons, but Rozu cut off the ends of their spears. He plunged them back into the troops’ chests, leaving them bleeding as he cut another through the eyes. They couldn’t grab him, fast as he was at running through the enemy. A formation of soldiers, holding what looked like spears, but with a small fixture at the end, aimed it towards him.
Pebbles sprayed out from the tubes, and Rozu recoiled back with a shout. They seared his skin, digging deep into his body. He grabbed one of the rocks and swallowed it, hardening his skin. The peppered rocks popped out of his skin as his hallowmancy took effect.
A shout came from behind, and Rozu knew that the fight had begun in earnest. The shout started as a small exclamation, but spread throughout the entire field. People couldn’t hear their own thoughts as catapults slung giant boulders into the dirt, kicking up dirt and bodies.
Rozu stabbed a soldier in front of him, watching blood spill onto the ground. He grabbed the spear of another, turning and throwing it at a nearby Afterburner. The Bladeborn looked angered, but stalled. Rozu jumped over him and towards the back line of the soldiers. Horses ran amuck, neighing as they trampled over the mundane troops.
Rozu came face first with another one of the exploding spears, raising his hands. The stones peppered his arms and a stab followed after, knocking Rozu on his back. He looked past his cracked arms to notice a soldier pushing his entire weight onto the spear to ram it through.
Rozu grunted, kicking the man’s legs out from under him and grabbing his spear. He rose up and stabbed down onto the man’s legs, leaving him screaming on the ground. A moment to assess his surroundings weren’t enough, as trumpeting elephants were raging across the land and trebuchets were firing.
Rozu brandished his Katar once more, running past and stabbing whoever he could. Orders shouted in his mind, but the voices they belonged to were unfamiliar. Rozu elected to ignore the voices, thinking it a trick of the Phasgorians. Instead, he rushed past the troops, taking out soldiers left and right.
He caught sight of another Devourer. Dark skin, blonde hair, sharp eyes. A Phasgorian.
The man readied his spear as Rozu approached his skin turning a shade of grey. He broke the shaft of the spear over his knee and took one piece in each hand. Rozu scoffed at the display. What would that even do?
The Phasgorian lunged at Rozu, cracking him over the head with one of the spear shafts. It stung Rozu, cracking his brittle skin, but doing little more. Rozu stowed his Katar, then jabbed the man straight in the throat.
The Phasgorian recoiled, coughing before shaking his head. He tried to stab with the other end of the spear, and Rozu grabbed the metal with his hands. It barely cut into his stone skin, and he elbowed the Phasgorian across the face. That knocked a few of his teeth out, so Rozu came in close and punched again.
Cracks spread across the man’s stony skin, but he looked determined to take Rozu out. He was bleeding red, which Rozu found odd, before throwing one of the pieces in his hand. Rozu grabbed it out of the sky, but the momentary distraction was enough. The Phasgorian grabbed him by the arm and tossed him onto the ground.
Breath left Rozu’s lungs as he felt the impact, but he couldn’t stay. The Devourer stabbed down onto Rozu’s head, but he tilted his head out of the way. Rozu swiped at the Devourer, sending him recoiling. He plucked the spearhead out of the dirt beside him and threw it at his head.
It struck and rung against his hard skin. Then Rozu kicked the man, sending him careening into a group of soldiers. Rozu huffed as his stone ran out, and his complexion changed back to normal. He rummaged around in his pouch and found a piece of iron. He swallowed it whole, and his hands took on a sheen.
As the battle progressed, Rozu killed whatever Phasgorians would stand in his way. He helped along several of his squadrons to advance, ran through soldiers, horseback riders, scouts, and Bladeborn alike.
He plunged his fist into a retreating scout, watching the life fade from his eyes as he took a bloody hand out. Beside him, a Planar had been trying to open a portal. The Planar moved his portal right as Rozu’s fist went through it.
He scoffed, then kicked the shin of the Planar, knocking him down. For his part, the Phasgorian did well. He created two more portals around his arms, and floated them around himself when Rozu would try to strike a blow.
The Devourer missed more than he hit, and grew agitated with the fight. He sunk a fist into another portal accidently, and the Planar instantly reduced its size. Rozu’s arm was restricted, so he planted another kick on the Planar’s face and knocked him back.
The stout Bladeborn adjusted his nose back into place, while Rozu dragged his arm out of the portal. He healed what little damage scraping against the edges of the portal had done, and faced the Planar once more.
This time, when he threw portals at Rozu, the Devourer just dodged them. Their weak spot is their eyes, Rozu remembered. He brought out his Katar and swiped at the man’s eyes, eliciting a scream.
He then plunged the blade into the Planar’s neck, then took the blade out. Rozu didn’t need to see the result. He already knew the man was dead.
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A horse trampled him from behind, clopping its hooves against his head and burying it deeper into the ground. Rozu grabbed the leg of the horse, spat out a mouthful of blood, then pushed the beast to the ground. Its rider was pinned under the weight of the animal, and Rozu didn’t bother ending his life.
A restless voice came to Rozu, telling him to look for someone in particular. He scanned the area around him, filled with bodies strewn across the ground. And like a Commander’s field illuminating, Rozu found Dero surrounded by men and women.
They were aching or crying out, and Dero was dodging out of the way of a Devourer. Rozu wanted to push him aside and kill Dero himself, but his bewl was running low. He grabbed some bewllan crystals and refilled his supply, locking eyes with the old man as he did.
Dero swiftly took care of the enemy, sending him rolling down a hill. He brushed his hands against each other, dirt dusting into the air as he turned to Rozu. The young Devourer was climbing up to meet him, and was covered in so much blood it had dried.
“What kind of monster are you?” Dero asked, loud enough to be heard over the sounds of battle.
“Whichever one you fear the most,” Rozu replied.
“Do you realize, boy, what this battle is even about?” Dero asked, pointing a finger backwards. A concentrated group of Bladeborn fought each other, with an adorned elephant on one side and a horse on the other.
“Doesn’t matter to me,” Rozu shrugged.
“And yet you fight so fervently. Are you really just an animal without a leash?”
“I am not an animal!” Rozu growled. He glanced at his hand once again, noting the blood covering it. “You’re just a petty old fool who doesn’t understand what war. People are meant to die!”
“And for what cause?”
“Do I need a cause?”
“If you say you’re not an animal, then yes. Look what’s around you, Rozu. Dead men throwing themselves at each other for no good reason. And why? For the death of a General who himself wouldn’t have wanted this?”
“And what do you know of our fallen General, Phasgorian? Your people were the ones to plan his death!”
“Enough to know that he wouldn’t have wanted this,” Dero replied, and a wistful look came over him. His eyes trembled scanning the battlefield, and Rozu was reminded that— despite his agility— he was much older.
Rozu unsheathed his Katar from his side, facing the aged Devourer once more. Dero sighed, looking as if he’d lost something, then brought his own weapon out.
****
Dolish stood atop an elephant of his own, as it trampled Phasgorians under its mighty heft.
Borne, take out their rear them, they’re aiming to launch more boulders.
An Afterburner landed atop Dolish’s steed, and he raised his knife.
”Venastian!” the Phasgorian shouted, but Dolish had already stabbed him. he pressed the knife against his throat and locked his arms until the man bled out. Then he threw the Afterburner off of his steed as it rampaged onwards.
There was nothing to be said. If he could feel his own emotions in the moment, Dolish didn’t know what he would see. That’s why he hadn’t. there was only the mission left, and Phasgorians to kill.
Another Afterburner caught Dolish from the side and knocked him off of his war elephant. Dolish grunted, but twisted out of the grasp of the Afterburner. Dolish landed on other soldiers, rubbing the side of his head as he stood up.
Bark, bring me back to the cavalry. Rai-
He tried to order, but stopped himself. Raisha wasn’t here any longer. Dolish shook the thought aside. There wasn’t time to dally in his thoughts. He grabbed his knife and cut a path to his steed himself, but found it toppled over and bleeding. There was a large boulder lodged in its ribcage, which made Dolish pity the creature.
Two Afterburners landed in front of Dolish, looking haggard.
“We couldn’t stop the catapults, General,” Bark said.
“They’re tough bastards to crack, especially with how many their King’s got guarding them,” Borne added with a spit.
Dolish grunted, he’d have to assign someone else to this task. He focused on his Commander aura and tracked some Bladeborn he recognized. Most of them were entangled in their own skirmishes, but Dolish found enough to build a squadron.
Follow my beacon and group up. We’ve got a mission to accomplish.
In a moment they converged on Dolish’s location, each looking just as tired as Borne and Bark.
“Planar, open up a line towards the back row of the Phasgorians. Bark and Borne, you’ll be the first to go through and secure a route for the rest of us. Then, we’ll sabotage the equipment.”
They all nodded together.
“Let’s start. Portal?”
The Planar, a man with one eye open, created a portal. He took longer than Raisha, Dolish noted, but he couldn’t be picky at the moment. Instead, when he was finished, all the Afterburners flew through it. Dolish still had his Commander powers active, and kept a line open for Borne.
A few moments later, Borne replied.
It’s clear!
GO! Dolish shouted to the rest of them, not bothering with speech. They rushed through the portals and found a scattering of Phasgorians near their contraptions. The Devourers came first, rushing down the soldiers who were manning the devices. They tore them to shreds before Dolish and the rest broke down the trebuchets and catapults.
They cut ropes and punched through wood, collapsing the structures quickly and efficiently. Though it was only a single line of them, it would help the Armon and his army advance.
Back through the portal, all of you! Dolish shouted to them. They obeyed instantly, rushing back just as Phasgoria sent more reinforcements in their direction.
As soon as they’d crossed, the Planar cut the portal and pulled out a bewllan crystal. He drank from it while Dolish spoke.
“Drink up, we have many more to destroy.”
****
Galeon was horrified at the sight he found. He’d never seen a battle this devastating in his life. Bodies piled up like a platter, blood flowing so freely he could smell the steel even from his location. there were skirmishes still going on, though he hoped it was a sign of the battle dying down.
He knew he should’ve been helping, one way or another, but instead his mind was focused on two people. He searched for Emile and Isil, praying to Seraphas all the while that he wouldn’t have to stumble onto their bodies.
Ravenishtani Afterburners chased him, and Galeon would have to lead them away somehow. That dug into his time, and Galeon grew more desperate with his search as time went on. His bewl ran out, and Galeon had to drop to the ground to preserve what little he had left.
He freed his bewl to fend off attackers, holding a spear he’d found on a dead body. He prayed for the corpse’s salvation, but wondered if his prayers were even going through. Would Seraphas really allow this bloodshed? All of the Phasin gods were related to war in one form or another, but Galeon was only now realizing the reach of their domains.
His people fought like madmen, not concerned with the wounds they took on their bodies. Proselytizing would do him no good, so Galeon rushed to get his friends out of the way.s
He passed over more bodies on the ground, then paused abruptly. Mouth hanging open, Galeon glanced back at the corpses one more time. His lips quivered, and he threw his spear aside. He ran towards the bodies in a mad sprint, freeing all of his bewl as best as he could.
He collapsed near the dark cloak of a scout, turning the body aside slowly. Please, Seraphas, don’t let him be…
But the body below him was. Emile’s blank face stared back, looking straight through Galeon and to a place beyond. Galeon clutched the sides of Emile’s shoulders tightly, tears forming in his eyes.
“H-hey, Emile. E-Emile, come on…” He shook, but the corpse lay limp. He didn’t dare glance at the wound near his stomach. The hole that had been burst through. If he did, he might go mad with the realization.
He looked over at another body, one close by and stocky
“Isil…?” he cried out weakly, but no response came. He dragged himself over to Isil’s corpse, moving the body around to get something.
He was a damned hallowmancer! How could he die so easily! They were supposed to be descended from Gods, weren’t they? Then how? How had his friend died?
And Emile, poor Emile. A voice started to wail. It caught in Galeon’s throats, and he coughed before it finally fell free from his body. All of his bewl went into the scream, tearing his throat as it reached a crescendo. He didn’t know who could hear him, but Galeon didn’t care. He screamed until there was not a single breath left in his body.
When it finally stopped, he realized that his eyes had gone dry. Tears streaked the young Afterburner’s cheeks, and he clutched his hair in his hands. What would he tell Novi? Leane? How could he show his face around either of them now?
His hands loosened minutes later, when a wave of exhaustion came over him. Galeon let go, heaving a sigh from deep within him. This had been his fault, hadn’t it?
If he’d done as he’d been enlisted to, maybe Emile and Isil would be alive. A Ravenishtani had done this after all, and that Ravenishtani could very well be one Galeon had faced before. A part of him found it darkly humorous if it turned out to have been Smokebrain. Or some other Afterburner that Galeon had played around with during the war.
Was this Seraphas’ punishment for his ignorance? He took away the people Galeon loved most, to teach him what war was really about? Death, madness and despair? Bodies sent to the grave en masse until one side forfeited? If it was, he wanted no part of it. He’d never wanted a part of it.
Training had drilled into him that he was using his powers to protect people. But he always knew better. Only now he was forced to confront the fact that he wasn’t doing good for anyone besides his King.
Sometimes it’s necessary, young Afterburner. Death, I mean. What a lie.
Finally, Galeon opened his senses outside. He found silence greeting him, for once. It was concerning. Wasn’t there a battle happening right now? It shouldn’t be so quiet. He looked up at the sky and found the sun was close to setting.
Reluctantly, he peeled himself off of the ground with slow steps. Galeon stood up, finding again, that no one was around. A small piece of his mind— a part he hated to listen to— reminded him why they were there in the first place. Galeon would’ve abandoned the thought immediately, but something about it felt like an insult.
He dragged his heavy feet over to Emile, then finally looked down. The edges of his cloak held something that Galeon found familiar. Though it was splashed with blood, those were the same documents that they’d stolen from General Venastian’s offices.
Galeon chuckled. Of all the things from that room, the papers had survived? Galeon took the papers idly, turned Emile back over, and walked.
****
Dolish Venastian felt hollow upon his return from the battle. He didn’t look behind himself, in anger and in fear of what he would see. How many men and women had perished today? His mind urged him to turn around to face the scenery, but his heart, his heart told him it would be too much to bear.
He couldn’t even remember how he’d gotten here. How the soot and dirt on his clothes had gathered, why his cheeks were stained or why he felt so tired. He just remembered red. The only thing he could see after Merin’s death.
They had the gall to murder not only him, but Raisha afterwards. An Afterburner had to tell him about it, and they didn’t dare show the body. Killed in the same way, he had no doubt it was the work of the Phasgorians. Dolish would have to write a letter to her husband, and his hands quivered thinking of how he’d break the news.
He walked beside an elephant, looking up to meet its gaze. Chonshi, His Sharpness’ personal ride, walked alongside him. the beast had wounds all across its body, rough looking and jagged.
A servant sat at the head of the animal, coaxing it to drink from a bewllan crystal as it moved so that it would heal. Behind the servant sat the Armon, his eyes looking away from Dolish, towards the horizon. The adornments put on Chonshi felt an insult in the moment, bright and colourful as they were.
Dolish activated his Commander field, and not a single soul batted an eye. They were focused on their wounds and wounded, which left Dolish to do what he needed to.
Your Sharpness.
He spoke to the Armon, waiting for a reply. His Sharpness did not budge, yet Dolish felt the emotions of the man. Deadened, like that of a corpse. He could feel that beyond that dead nothingness was a well of emotion being kept back.
Your Sharpness, please.
…What do you want from me now, Dolish?
The Armon replied, yet his body didn’t move.
We can’t continue like this. Today took more of our forces than any other battle so far. Winter is coming. We need to go back.
It was a betrayal of Merin’s memory to leave after what had been done, but Dolish knew he had to. He offered it not out of his own want, but to give the Armon a choice.
No, Dolish. We won’t be returning. Not until the nation of Phasgoria is wiped out.
Your Sharpness, would Merin really have want-
“Do not speak his name!” the Armon shouted at him. Dolish looked up, finding the glare of the Armon focused solely on him. the servants and soldiers around them paused in their tracks, and waited for his next move. The Armon took a look around at his people, then sat back in his seat and kept his face emotionless.
Merin would’ve wanted a great many things, if he was still alive. He was… such a bright star, had such a beautiful Form…
Dolish knew the Armon’s expression hadn’t changed, but some of the emotions in his heart leaked through.
General Feranz was an example to all of us, Your Sharpness. What will you have us do? Dolish asked him.
Tell them, Dolish. Tell the entire army that we are not to leave until the Spear of Arneshal is secure. We’ll use it to wipe out Phasgoria, and then whoever else stands in our path.
Dolish nodded.
It will be done, Your Sharpness.
Dolish disseminated the information through the ranks, then kept pace with the Armon’s personal elephant all the way to the camps. Even if they were crossing with the help of Planars, Dolish didn’t want to leave His Sharpness alone. Assassins had gotten close one time, which meant they could just as easily do it again.
Yennel appeared in Dolish’s periphery, and he glanced over at the Armon.
Stay away, traitor, he shot the message towards Yennel only, and the man glared back at him.
General, I did not want this any more than you did, Yennel shot back in his mind.
And yet you weren’t present when Merin was killed, were you?
I am not a hallowmancer like you. Do you think all of us can walk off stab wounds? For most men that is a death sentence, if not for the bleeding then for what follows, Yennel shouted to Dolish.
Coward, Dolish stated. The Lieutenant General left in a huff, a retinue of Afterburners bringing over a cart for him.
****
He had to have been toying with him. Dero hadn’t fought twice as hard as before and yet Rozu had lost so completely that he had to run. He ran across piles of bodies, man and animal alike, along with ruined catapults and burning earth.
When he found the fresh Devourers once more, they looked horrified. Though they boasted the same powers as him, clearly they weren’t trained. Most of them stared blankly while others rocked back and forth or shivered as they walked.
“Don’t think about it. It’s past now and you’re alive, that’s all what matters,” Rozu said to them. A few of them listened, yet most of them remained in that shocked state until they finally marched up to the edge of the camp.
This was the part that Rozu hated most. Colonel Adarah met with his group once again, and sighed. The old man held up a bewllan crystal and drained it. He looked tired to Rozu, but that wasn’t his problem.
The Colonel called Rozu forth with his hand and pulled out paper and coal.
“You’re the most right headed of your squad right now, so I’ll have you tell me what you did in the battle.”
Rozu began a boring description of the events that transpired. He skimmed past the battles and avoided mentioning Dero, but something seemed to intrigue the Colonel nonetheless.
“What did you say about the scout?” he asked.
“Which scout, Aderah?” Rozu asked.
“Colonel Aderah. I was and am still your superior, you thin brained idiot,” The Colonel bit back harshly. Rozu scoffed.
“There was a scout and a Planar who were trying to escape. I caught and killed them before they could,” Rozu explained.
“… Rozu, what were they like?” the Colonel gulped before he asked.
“The scout had a hawkish face while the Planar was stout. What of it?” Rozu asked.
“You…. Did you search them?”
“Why did I need to?” Rozu replied.
“You didn’t… hear what our mission was?” Aderah said, exasperated.
Rozu’s squadron all looked at him as if he were mad.
“What? If you all have something to say, then say it!” Rozu shouted at them.
“Grab him.”
Immediately, the other Devourers swarmed him. Rozu used his bewl to enhance his body, but the pile of Bladeborn were too much, even for him. He struggled and grunted, yet they held onto his arms and legs with enhanced force of their own.
“You utter, animalistic, fool. You failed the only objective we had.” Were the last words he heard before being dragged off to the brig.
End of Part I.