The beginning, the middle and the end. There isn’t a personal category with anything within these specific sectors but anyone can guess and put them somewhere. While reading, he came across to him that there was something specific in life he had to do. Quite frankly, it came to him in a dream, last night. He couldn’t consider the possibility of it being a directed omen because it was nothing more than a subconscious suggestion being smart for once. The room feels cold, more to the point its cold due to the freezing winter that has laid waste to the war-torn city of Aldaz.
From adjusting his scarf and holding his hands behind his back, the balcony he had come to be on was overlooking the crude nothingness that had overturned it, now that he say it, two figures were walking down the street, both carrying the essence of Imperial troops. He supposed it’s time for him to say “hello.” He stepped off the broken balcony and landed on my feet in front of them, the stubby man on the left threw his arms and lunged the pike at him which came into contact with his finger as he held it, after smiling and giving him a brief moment of delightful fear, he twisted the end of the pike and snapped off the metal end, flicking it back to him.
He took it quite well and in an instant, was on the floor, screaming the sounds of someone’s grave that has just been sealed. The after effect was the pure fear that radiating from the other soldier who decided it was a good idea to scamper and try his best to escape but he was too slow. A rabbit race wasn’t even a rabbit race but more like a panther slaughtering its prey without a shred of instinct but to kill, then the two simple and dead beings, were put into the cold hard ground.
The rush, that wasn’t there. He was abnormally dissatisfied with the constant lack of feeling that he had come to put himself into, he never really was good with people or emotions and from walking down the snow filled lane with the half destroyed and attacked buildings, he found one that was mostly intact and clambering was inside of it. Another happy smile brought him to open the door and find two soldiers and a young girl, screaming. The Imperials had turned to him and the girl was only in her early teens, it was a gruesome sight.
Without hindering his own sanity, he quickly moved, planting his foot and dispersing himself fast enough to get behind the first man on the left, he was decapitated by the blade of death that had risen to wreak its vengeance. The second man swung a large hammer at him but as it came down towards him, he found that his hand was flying into the air, spurting the red wine of the human body around the area, by this time to the girl had ran under the stairs and witnessed the massacre of two soldiers that were about to violate human sanity. Her eyes were shocked and torn between what to say or do, the male responsible; looked at her.
He offered something to her, after moving from the spectres of the past and he held down something, two somethings. Food and a blanket. She took them quickly and hid from him, she heard the lonesome words of the stranger, these words held an empty emotion but a full promise that was set by somewhat of a loose morality.
“A war is not for little girls.”
Girl, little. Defining the very being by something so minor and not comprehendible. She was young and didn’t understand the essence of the world and as the male left the building, breathing in the cold, deathly howling wind. He felt a release, the contempt and content of a killer. There was a familiar sign he had recognised as a shop, more so a tailor shop that he had once visited. Once he came to the end of the street, he had spotted more soldiers but opted to revert back to stealth and ignore them, they were not of any strategic importance. The tailor shop had been ransacked and what was left were destroyed clothing racks that were wooden and a trace of magical essence.
When he came across a mirror, his whole entirety was shown and he had spotted that the beauty of the reflection was really appeasing to his own mind, an egotistical maniac that adored himself. His long black coat, blue scarf and black boots were the main part of him and his uniform underneath was that of the remaining party, the Royalists. The white rose that was sewn onto it was the main logo that stood out to anyone. It was straight, put forward and innocence. In the sense that it had been forced on by a young child ruler who barely could keep on her own two feet.
Indeed, an idiotic queen stood on the throne but yet, this war wasn’t over, he smiled to himself and walked outside; seeing more conflict and the Royalists were in force and pushing around the place, finishing off the remnants of the disgraceful Imperials that had occupied the city. The crunch of snow had already caught his ear and he held a hand out, a soldier had dropped off a letter in it while he was still looking at the scene and ran off to deliver more letters. After they’d been killed and turned into ghosts, he put his hands onto the letter and he opened it with one hand, taking it out and reading it with the other.
It stated.
“Dear, Lord Merizal.
We are requesting your assistance at the fifth frontier where the Majesty’s transportation regime will be setting off within the next day and she has requested your presence there as her head defendant.
Be here as soon as the time is ready and do not delay.
Yours truly,
Grand Marshal Holland.”
Well, how splendid. The recall made him smile and laugh, the Queens’ favourite killer had been called to her side, more than likely to wait while she complains about the cold and buggers what’s left of his sanity. He put the letter into his pocket and his hands too, ensuring his gloves were on tight enough. The cap that he had pulled out of his pocket was now on his head and he began to walk around the way, exiting the city within the next span of time and now he was inbound to his task.
*
It was near evening when he had arrived at the camp, the soldiers saluting him as he walked past and he was guided into the main tent where he found a heated argument between the small, annoying child and the old, blading uncle was occurring.
“You shall not remove it! It has been in the Royal latter for centuries!”
Her white hair was frolicking the naïve attitude she was maintaining. Her tiara was white, snow like and her dress was mostly sky blue and white. The innocence of a child ruler was present. On the other hand you have the balding marshal whose uniform is grey and white and primarily has shiny medals and a full-grown beard.
“Your majesty, be reasonable. This is a war. We will continuously lose if we do not remove it from the city.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
They both turned to him as he entered the tent and took off his hat. On one side a child’s voice and the other a man’s voice. He chuckled and looked at them both, his soft and serene tone spoke towards them, gesturing with his hands.
“For one, the great beast has been the protector of the city and it is a sacred thing, although it will cause us to lose a good stand point. There only option is to move it.”
They were both lit with lightbulbs that had something to itself. After the suggestion they began to go back to the map in the middle of the centre, one propped up on a stool and the other with two hands on the map looking over it. After giving the suggestion, the male had moved off and then he came to one of the rooms inside of the tent and he took off his outdoor clothing and sat down in his uniform, rolling up his sleeves and a maid came over to the chair where he sat. She placed down some tea and crumpets, smothered in a peculiar sauce that as more defined as honey syrup.
She nodded at him and gave a curtsey, he bowed his head and placed himself into a posture that complimented the complex meal designed with the touch of elegance parading around it. He began to indulge into the sweetness of the warm design and he finally came to the conclusion of finishing the meal, he was at ease and relaxed as he watched the two higher up’s command and conquer the map to where the beast could go.
The maid came back over and she looked over him and she wanted to speak but was waiting for permission. He smiled and gestured his hand, allowing her the privilege.
“My lord, may I ask what beast they are referring to?”
Her eyes became wide and she was hunting for an answer and the details to what this magnificent creature was and how it’s generalised name was being thrown about. The need for information was the ultimate desire from her, being a maid of the royal family had its benefits of being exposed to specific details. As she stood with a silver plate in her hand, leaning to the lord. He whispered to her.
“It’s a creature of vast teeth, claws and the most menacing eyes you can ever imagine.”
Despite the coldish tone of the Lord, it was quite apparent that a sense of humour and jesting was put to. She smiled and gave a light chuckle, his eyes despite still being fixated on the two at the table, shifted to the maid slowly and smiled at her. She nodded and the connection of that it was a topic not meant to be spoken of was understood.
She left and he finished the last of his tea, placing the cup back down onto the table. He sat with one leg crossed and the two had finished the scheming and had come over to the lounge area and sat down on separate chairs, two assistants were bringing and eventually placed a reinforced glass table that could spin and be set in place, they set it out and placed some table cloth onto it. They were dismissed, and the real events were taking place.
He looked at the two that were talking to him, almost like they were a family and he stood up and put his hands in his pockets and he smiled towards them, looking at the plan that they had mapped out. These blueprints were the schematics of a new idea, the place where they could move the beast, the guardian of the city. Each city had one, this one especially was something out of the story books. They were talking to him and he was filtering it and nodding it, there was something that clicked. Something he saw, and he knew it wasn’t right, the maid. Why did she have a more lighter accent?
He smiled at them while they were discussing the plan, it came across that the final choice was to move it to a grove not far from the city, they weren’t too far from it. The distance was something reachable and they didn’t have to disturb the ancient nature which slumbered peacefully. The mindset that he was in seemingly ensued him to drift away into the deep subconscious of himself, he thought about emotion. What was emotion? An aspect he never had and knew from experience it was an unneeded thing to be satisfied with life. As he stood there, it was something that he couldn’t quite put onto the tip of his tongue and recite like anything else he could do so easily.
Reality eventually snapped back into place and he looked at them and nodded, after the discussion of moving the beast had been concluded, royal guards were escorting the child back to her segmented area and Holland, the Marshal; had gone back to his own segment. He took his jacket and his coat and put it back on, leaving the tent and as he got out, the night was bright. The moon escalated the isolation of the war, what it was and what it was doing to the place. It was a contradiction, a full moon to signify something was whole but nothing was whole. Everything was broken and portioned into the sides. Imperials and Royalists.
The piercing cold was a stagnant force in itself, it was creeping out nature of itself, there was no sense of stopping. The wind was harsh and flowing in every direction, catching everyone in its ice grasp. To compliment that the snow was falling, and a blizzard was stretching all over the camp, despite the magical barriers, it can’t stop the snow. Something like that is a force in itself with the addition of everything else. Despite trailing through the snow, he managed to reach one of the end tents and he entered it, closing it quickly to stop the snow getting in. He moved further into the main coverage and there were different officers discussing the current affairs.
He got over to the table and they saluted him, while saluting him one of the lower officers handed him a file and nodded with his hat, he smiled and took it off them and opened it. The particular were proclaiming that a certain agent under the Imperials was causing havoc in the city and trying to liberate and find the creature, he thought as much; probably was the reason of the isolation of the beast. After reading it over he placed it back onto the table and they handed him a bracelet with a white stone, this particular stone is a crystal with the ability to commune to others via the ethereal lines.
They aren’t important; after taking and clipping it to his wrist. He took his hat and nodded at them, moving out of the tent once again the blizzard return for an unfolding and relentless cascade; one that pounded the world with its own force of nature. The deep radiance of his eyes glimmered the ever prospectful moon and something struck within him that he had never found before, a motivation for this. There was something in this, a challenge for once. Something or someone to give him a fire for fight and flight into the right situation. A burning passion rose to the edge of his heart, an exclusive something for a twisted second. It was gone, depleted.
He began to walk away from the tent and away to the wilderness, disappearing inside of the trees, away from the remote destination he had found himself on, more specifically; thirty minutes from the city, the war zone.
*
Upon arriving back at the city, the blizzard was thick enough to cause eye damage, well, that’s being over the top. It scarcely was different than before, although everything was mostly dark and damp. As he entered the first building on his right, the corpses of three soldiers had been placed down. An evil looking figure loomed over him and he inspected the bodies, each carried the scent of someone that could manipulating the dead themselves. They were torn apart, obviously from fighting someone of their high calibre, it was a conditional ruling. After searching the bodies and determining, these were the elite group of the Imperials, it was clear to see it was no ordinary killer.
As he moved and stepped over them, he came into contact with a woman, a mask on her face and she stood on a balcony, looking at him; after a split second she jumped. He rushed after her but missed her, watching her jump and leap from building to building. The aura she was giving off was pretty obvious, he knew she was a magic user too. More specifically she relied on internal power, rather than external. A book was on the floor, he leaned down and picked it up, dusting the dust off and reading through it. The title was in a different language, a language he had encountered before.
Shadow Speak.
The pure speech of the people who inherited from something old and ancient, he read through it, carefully internally translating the words and the sentences, making out it was a guide. A complete guide to the Royal houseline. It went into specific details about each member before the last and their abilities, more importantly it came down to the entry of the current head, her majesty but nothing was written. It was blank, they were searching for something.
After taking the knowledge and what he learned, it was soon apparent that a motion had been set in place, as he walked to the balcony and looked out onto the ravaged city, the cold fire burnt through it and the flames were set alight by the ricocheting anger and instinct of war.