The then prince Arneshal was quiet and meek, where Legosia was strong and proud. Legosia had the strength of his frame, while Arneshal the cunning of scholars and thinkers.

The King inducted young Legosia into the prince’s service, binding them together from then on until the end of days.

-From the 3rd Chapter of “The Remont of Elneshe”

Dolish wanted to ignore it even as he saw it all around him. Troops were being shifted around, more of them sent out on every skirmish. He hadn’t been able to get an audience with the Armon, to speak of this at length with him. But one name kept cropping up whenever he mentioned it to the ministers and Generals.

Yennel had been planning something. Dolish always saw him speaking to someone or another, saw him trying to weasel his way into an agreement. And this time, he inadvertently ran into the Lieutenant General just as he was exiting the elephant pens. The pens had been wrapped in cloth, to preserve the warmth for the giant animals. Other soldiers walked in and out of the large open entrance to the pens, some carrying saddles in their hands. But none of them had the presence of Yennel.

The two soldiers locked eyes with each other in the middle of the road as others passed them by. Dolish had Vaness by his side, while Yennel walked alone. The old General wondered how repulsive of a personality the man must have, if not even a single Bladeborn would accompany him.

The Lieutenant General smiled at him and his assistant, though the both of them glared at him.

“General Venastian, good Lady,” Yennel nodded to each of them, moving past.

“What were you doing in there, Yennel?” Dolish asked him. Yennel dropped the smile immediately, replacing it with boredom.

“Am I not even worth a proper address to you, General?” Yennel asked him.

“You weren’t worth your Form the second you betrayed our Armon,” Dolish told him.

“And again, you publicly blame me for something I had no part in. Should I bring this up to His Sharpness myself, eh?” Yennel threatened him.

“Don’t you dare disturb him when he’s in mourning,” Dolish told him.

“Maybe he should mourn when there’s time to mourn,” Yennel muttered. Vaness didn’t seem to catch it, but it was clear to Dolish’s ears. He clenched his fist and grit his teeth. It wouldn’t do him any good to attack the Lieutenant General out in the open.

“What. Were. You Doing. In there?” Dolish asked him again, each word a sentence.

“Making sure we have enough elephants for the next battle. That should’ve been another General’s job, but you don’t seem to want to do yours, do you?” Yennel taunted him, and the old General broke.

“The elephants cannot handle the weather. What gives you right to bring them out?” Dolish asked him, incredulous.

“I’m given right because no one else is using them. Come now, General, they’re just a few elephants. We can spare them for the Armon’s sake, can we not?”

“For the Armon’s sake? You lie like you breathe, Yennel. You’re just trying to weaken His Sharpness’ cavalry!” Dolish accused him.

“General, I’m getting tired of your baseless assumptions. I don’t know if you’re tired or old, General, but maybe you shouldn’t be on the frontlines anymore.”

He grabbed Yennel by the throat and lifted him up into the air. He relished that scene, of Yennel whimpering in the air and flailing his legs. Of the fear and awe on his face. Strength flooded Dolish’s old bones, strength he knew would be enough to end Yennel. A single snap and the largest thorn in his back would be plucked out.

What stopped him wasn’t the looks that the soldiers gave him, nor was it the approaching Afterburners from the sky. No, it was the Devoted Bishan, who was soothing crying children witnessing the sight. What did he look like in their eyes, he wondered. Would he have done the same, had Eval been right beside him this day?

Dolish let Yennel go, dropping him to the ground. The Lieutenant General made a show of coughing and spitting, clutching his throat pathetically.

“W…Why, you’re insane!” Yennel shouted at him, as an Afterburner raised him up. The man looked crazed.

“Have you gone senile?!” he shouted again, before being rushed off by the Bladeborn. The crowd gathered around Dolish, consisting of soldiers, merchants, children and Bladeborn, slowly began to disperse as he glared at them. He’d made a mess of himself, he knew

Dolish couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt at the moment, but he didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he looked over to Bishan, the woman urging the kids away.

She looked at Dolish like she was about to scold him, but shook away her expression.

“You caused a commotion, assaulted one of your own, and scared the children. Maybe you should have a drink, General,” Bishan politely insulted him.

“That man would be in a brig if I had a say in it,” Dolish scoffed.

“And yet you don’t,” Bishan sighed and started moving. She walked past him and towards the pens, urging him forward with a wave of her hand.

Dolish followed the old woman, and soldiers seemed to stiffen up all around them as they passed. This wouldn’t go unnoticed by his Sharpness, he knew. He only hoped that the Armon would see his side.

Bishan stopped in front of one of the pens. It was one of their few elephants that were Bladeborn. What did the Devoted want with them? Soldiers approached to bar her way, and she glanced back at Dolish.

“Let her through, men,” Dolish told them.

“Sir, were you?” they asked, nudging towards where he’d held up the Lieutenant General.

“That’s none of your concern, soldier. Let us into the pens,” Dolish told them.

They begrudgingly parted, one of them placing a key into the gate. He twisted it around and let the both of them through. They closed the gate immediately behind him.

There was snow on the ground, and the elephants seemed to be wandering around aimlessly. They were swaying their heads in the air, some of them drinking from the ice-cold pond in the middle of their cage.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Once Bishan entered though, their attention seemed to focus on the old woman. The younger elephants were too engaged in play, so a larger, older beast approached her instead. It was unblemished, with a band of purple cloth tied around its tusks.

“You’re just like me, aren’t you, old girl?” Bishan spoke to the beast, soothing it until it let its guard down. She stroked the elephant, and it relaxed, resting down onto the ground. Dolish stood watch for a few moments, but only grew annoyed with the old Devoted’s antics. They spent the better part of a while with the animals, for no discernible reason.

“Did you need to bring me here?” he asked her.

“You make a good pass for restricted areas. And I thought we could use the space to speak freely,” Bishan told him.

“No third point? I thought a trident struck thrice?” Dolish told her.

“You can’t fit your Form perfectly at all times, Dolish. Can you?” She asked him the question. The old Devoted looked at him with pursed lips, and Dolish knew what she wanted.

“I’ve failed my Form, haven’t I?” Dolish asked.

“Do you think so?”

“His Sharpness wants me to let go of Yennel. He wants us focusing on nothing else except Phasgoria. But I know Yennel is up to something. The Armon, he… he doesn’t seem to want to see it!” Dolish explained.

“You were supposed to carry out whatever he asks, weren’t you, Dolish? Whatever happened to that?”

“It doesn’t feel right anymore, Devoted Trident. There’s nothing to be gained on the battlefield for us,” Dolish told her.

“Do you think the Armon doesn’t know that?” Bishan asked him. Treasonous thoughts entered the General’s mind, quickly being dispersed by a shake of the head.

“He’s in grieving. General Feranz’ death has been… hard on all of us. But His Sharpness seems to have taken it especially bad. I fear, Devoted Trident, that in his grief, he won’t care for what happens to the rest of us,” Dolish admitted.

“Bloody snow from the days before isn’t even covered up before we send the same men out there to spill more. When will it end, I wonder. When we’ve dealt a major blow to Phasgoria’s own royal family?”

The old Trident took a moment to ponder. She scratched the ear of the elephant near her lap. The animal rosed its trunk to sniff at her, and she gently pushed it away.

“Do you think you’re helpless, Venastian?” Bishan asked him.

“I am. I know what I need to be focusing towards, Devoted. But without any evidence, Yennel is free to roam around, do whatever he’s planning. By the Armon’s rules, I’m bound…”

“I seem to recall a wise man once telling me that a sword could come to a problem from any angle, no?”

“Maybe he wasn’t as wise as he hoped.”

“No, maybe he just didn’t take his own words to heart. Tell me, General Venastian, have you opened your ears to the people around you?” Bishan asked him.

“I hear them all the time, Devoted,” he said, cycling his bewl through his hand as he clenched it. The old woman seemed to find comedy in the General’s plight, which only annoyed him further.

“You and I both know those are just vague impressions. No, tell me, Dolish, have you listened to your people? Your servants, soldiers and even your honour guard. What they think you should do?” she asked him.

But the Armon was the only one who could do that. Isn’t that what he’d sworn, taking on his Form? But was a blade always wielded by a single person? Or does it pass between the hands that need it?

A single finger rose from Bishan’s hand, pointing behind Dolish. He turned his gaze outside of the pen, where his honour guard stood waiting for him. Alef, Vaness, Saeda, Borne and Bark, all poised perfectly, like any guard should be.

“I…. I’ve been so busy,” he reasoned.

“Exactly the reason I never pursued that position. But take my words to heart, Venastian. The greatest wisdom isn’t found at the hands of scholars, but common folk,” Bishan told him.

“Now, go and listen. They’ve been waiting out there long enough,” she said, turning her gaze to the elephants instead. She waved the General away, and an invisible force beckoned him towards the edge of the pens.

Dolish approached the gates, standing in front of them. Only a thin net of metal separated him from his honour guard.

“Trying to relieve some stress, Dolish?” Borne chuckled.

“Sir, there’s Afterburners waiting near your office. They’ll want to take you to His Sharpness,” Vaness told him.

“Apologies, soldier. I’ll see to it,” he nodded towards her.

Alef kept looking back towards the enclosure, and twiddling with his thumbs. Dolish didn’t think highly of that, especially considering he was a Devourer. But now, he had an interest in the young lad’s thoughts.

“What are you thinking about, Alef?” Dolish asked him.

“Will the Devoted really be fine in there, General? Could be an issue. A stampede like on that night. Or maybe they’d get startled by the Devoted!” Alef posed a number of scenarios, firing them off without ever shutting his mouth.

Dolish placed a single hand on the Devourer’s shoulder that quieted him.

“She’ll be fine, soldier,” Dolish told him.

“Come along now. I’ve got a meeting with His Sharpness to attend,” he beckoned the rest of them. They left the pen, Dolish pondering on the Devoted’s words.

****

The General was in no hurry to head towards his offices. Who knew what kind of punishment awaited him there. But a familiar sight ended up in his path on the way there. Dolish turned to his side, towards the low moaning he’d heard.

There, bruised and beaten, were the strung up Phasgorians. The same ones Dolish had ignored before. Their hands were raw, the rope rubbing against them. They looked to have been beaten and were shivering even in their restraints.

A few soldiers stood guard near the base of the wooden pillars they were bound to, looking as tired of their duty as any other guards. Underneath the pillars were small piles of fruits, stones and other knickknacks that the people had thrown at them.

“General?” Alef spoke. Dolish didn’t know that he’d stopped. He looked at the awaiting faces of his honour guard, who each glanced at the Phasgorians. Some of their faces scrunched in disgust, but on others he saw… pity? Saeda especially, turned away to ignore the wails of pain.

“Alef?”

“Yes, General?” the young Devourer straightened up.

“What would you do if given a difficult decision, one that you couldn’t take without repercussion,” Dolish asked him. Would he defer to his betters? Hand off the responsibility to someone else? Ignore it entirely?

The boy looked perplexed, raising a hand to his chin to think.

“I’d just do it anyway,” he answered. Dolish let out a laugh, and Borne’s eyes widened.

“You made him laugh. What have you done?” he told the Devourer. The boy, unfamiliar with such a sight, began to panic and explain himself.

“But only if I could, General! I didn’t mean to say that I would go against orders! Just tha-” and he would’ve continued too, if Dolish hadn’t raised a hand.

“No, soldier. It’s just your answer. It was so simple,” Dolish told him. Alef seemed to deflate a little, as Dolish moved away. He activated his Commander field, grabbing the attention of the guards.

Bring these men down this instant, and take them back to the jail.

Though some of them were confused, eventually they obeyed. Dolish had Saeda bring blankets and open portals to the jail. He ferried the prisoners through those portals, out of sight of the people and out of sight of the other guards. Alef, Borne and Bark cut down the rest of them, pulling them off the posts at Dolish’s orders.

He could sense the pain in their spirits, and though he could not relinquish it entirely, he did dampen those emotions. He bolstered their positive emotions, hoping it would do them some good before they were someplace warm.

Most of them didn’t give him a word of acknowledgement. He didn’t care for it. But a specific man caught his eye. A bald Phasgorian, looking worse than the rest of his comrades. Always so defiant, Elann gave him a glare.

He was the last to go through the portal, and gave only a slight nod to him as it winked closed. Dolish turned back to the soldiers, grabbing a few of them at random.

You three there, come here.

The soldiers approached Dolish, saluting all at once.

Bring food to the Phasgorians. Warm food. And give them back all the provisions I had them granted.

The soldiers shifted uncomfortably at the orders.

“But, General. The Armon…”

“I know very well what awaits me, soldier. But until then, do as I say.”

Dolish ordered them, stopping the bewl flowing through his body. The soldiers marched away at a brisk pace.

“Vaness. Keep an eye on them and make sure they carry out what I asked,” Dolish told her.

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

Dolish didn’t know what would be the repercussions for taking those prisoners away, but it couldn’t be much worse than what he was already about to receive.

He faced the carriage of Afterburners with grace, leaving his honour guard back. But not before he told them a few secret orders. Even if they came into conflict, or Dolish was ordered to stop, he’d find an angle to cut away the problem anyways.