JASON

The vast and flat green field was interrupted by the occasional boulder. The tall grass was dancing with great vigour as the wind was blowing against them, seemingly trying to deter him and his fellow men from their march towards what was hopefully to be their last battle. The short duration in fighting, the enormous lopsided victories, and little to no casualties in these last five months made them confident and walk with a straight back against the harsh wind.

But it wasn’t an army that was marching onward. No, it was merely a group of five armoured men. Between them was soon to be king, coal with a golden heart, Lord Jason from Windschild. The Lightning, who conquered the entirety of Igelland in less than five months. They would call him coal for his dark skin and spiky black hair.

“What is Windschild like, my king?” Lord Henry asked and put an arm around his shoulder.

“Stop calling me that, mate,” Lord Jason said while keeping his gaze ahead of him. “You’re gonna jinx everything,” he remarked.

“You with yo’ superstitious arse...” Henry snorted. “Do you seriously envision us losing at this point?” he laughed.

Jason looked at the handsome man with dark brown hair, fair skin, prominent sideburns and a mullet. The man who ignited his ambition. The man, who fought along with him for four years. His smile was giving him fortitude. He was his brother in battle, and although he had no royal blood in him, Jason would name him Lord for his strength and bravery alone.

“Do not underestimate The White Viper!” Sophon sternly remarked. He walked right up to Jason and said with the air of confiding a secret, “We have a very formidable foe before us! We need to talk strategy at last!”

“Trust me on this for once,” he responded in a low voice. Jason didn’t expect him to understand. Sophon didn’t know her like he did.

“To answer your question, Lord Henry.” Jason turned to him. “Windschild is... well... windy.” The onslaught of wind just grew in force and loudness, as if to emphasise his statement.

“You don’t say?” Lord Henry shouted over the wind.

“Lord Jason!” Sophon pleaded with him. His eyes grew in his worried impatience. “I heard rumours about The White Viper! How she uses hostages to blackmail lords all over the land! Not to mention the way she savagely punishes criminals and traitors!”

Maybe it was the loud wind that urged him to talk so harshly, in a way the level headed Sophon never talked before.

“You don’t need to lecture me on my old friend, dear Sophon,” was Jason’s response. “And her name is Lady Josiane,” he added, getting increasingly irritated by the title she acquired some time in the last four years.

“What is our strategy?” Sophon asked at length, defeated. “Why leave our whole army, effectively our only leverage, behind!?”

“It would set the wrong precedent for what I have in mind,” Jason explained over the wind, having heeded that question.

And Jason smiled privately at the prospect of seeing her again, of seeing his home again. He had decided from the very beginning that Windschild would be the last town he would be conquering. Located on a grand peninsula, with a great flat land bridge on which wind was blowing yearlong against all possible invaders from land, Windschild spawned many legends of archers, who controlled the wind and casted arrows forth, with which they reached the farthest of enemies. Jason loved and was proud of his home. He would not inflict it with bloodshed of any kind, if he could help it.

“Oh... Ohhh! I get it now!” Elias shouted. “I know what his strategy is!” Jason felt rather than saw Elias’ sheepish grin and slanted eyes behind him. “He’s not going to fight Lady Josiane. Nonono! Rather he’s going to fuck her into submission and make her his concubine!”

A heartbeat had not passed, when Jason stopped, dropped his shoulder bag and turned around. “You will not insult Lady Josiane’s honour again!” he yelled and placed a stern finger on Elias’ chest armour.

“M-My Lord, I’m- I’m terribly sorry!” Elias stuttered and put his palms in the air in evident confusion. This was the first time he scolded Elias like this.

Jason even surprised himself. He turned around, picked up his bag and they resumed their marching. “I’m going to give her an offer, she’ll not be able to refuse,” he said to himself.

Jason didn’t see how Sophon looked curiously at this. And how Henry mouthed his cock at Nils and Elias, who both snickered.

SOPHON

In a way it made sense, yes. Surely the young Lord Jason, heir of Windschild, didn’t want to conquer his homeland by brute force. He was coal with a golden heart after all. But his precious nest was now infested by a vicious snake. And they were walking right into its poisonous orifice.

Obviously, The Lightning held The White Viper in high regards. So much was evident from his unusual reaction to the insult towards her person. It was almost as clear as day now, that the young Lord was planning to betroth her.

Sophon’s stomach grew a pitfall at this. He had to convince him to turn around. He had to! Think, Sophon! Think!

How could one deter a young human from a vile love? Impossible, when the poison was so sweet. He didn’t ever see The White Viper in person, he hoped he never had to. But the rumours of her beauty spread across the whole land, just as the rumours of her vindictiveness. Add this to the fact, that they were practically raised together, familiarity obscuring reason, and the young Lord was bound to doom himself in a reckless act, that would cost them everything!

Lord Jason, smart and brave as he was, was still a young man and had little to no experience with women. Refusing every advance of noble women and prostitutes alike in fierce defence of his honour. Sophon knew his background after all, and the last five months proved his suspicions.

And now, Sophon understood that he was saving himself for her, of all noble women!

The howling wind seemed to carry with it a seductive singsong of a deadly siren. And this brave and kind young human, whom he learned to love like his own kind, was walking right into that trap.

A sharp hiss followed by a thump. They came to a halt.

Sophon saw Henry, drawing his sword and running in front of Lord Jason with swift speed. Then he and the others saw it as well.

An arrow has landed five feet in front of Lord Jason. Everyone drew their swords.

“An attack this early?!” Elias cried out, his voice edged with panic.

“No, this is just a deterrence!” Jason explained, although visibly flustered.

Sophon looked in front of them, then turned around, but couldn’t make out an archer, even though they were on a perfectly flat field. Are they hiding in a trench? he wondered.

“Will we head back?” Lord Nils asked curiously.

“Too late, we’re already in their range,” Jason said. “From now on, everyone will walk at a steady pace and in a straight line! Do not slow down or speed up, no matter what happens!” he warned gravely and started marching again.

“You heard him! Move!” Henry ordered, when they didn’t budge immediately, and they formed a straight line with Henry in front, Lord Jason second.

Shortly later a second arrow landed five feet in front of Henry. Sophon wondered how he could be such a daredevil and not so much as flinch at the deadly projectile, when at any moment one of those could pierce his skull. Then again, he supposed, that’s just a given on a battlefield.

“How can we be so sure they won’t kill us?” Elias asked anxiously.

Jason half turned his head to regard him. “As long as we don’t try to flee, they won’t kill us,” he said much to Sophon’s peril. “This is a test. Just keep moving forward!”

Another arrow landed again five feet in front of Henry. As they marched forward, the arrow, passing between their legs, was almost mocking them. And as they marched forward, more and more arrows landed in front of them, always five feet in front of Henry. But no matter how hard Sophon looked on the plain field surrounding them, he couldn’t make out neither archer nor any trench those could reside in. He looked back to see the line of arrows, which marked the way they came.

It was a perfect straight line.

As if they were not arrows casted by an archer, but rather markings of a mason, who wanted to build a straight wall.

That and the fact that each arrow landed exactly five feet in front of Henry, no matter where he was, told him that the archer, who casted these arrows, was extremely precise. Despite the strong winds, which most surely must have deterred any arrow from its intended path ever so slightly.

They were extremely precise. Hence they had to be near. But Sophon couldn’t see any archers; couldn’t make them out. What was going on?

“Bloody Hell! I can’t see those fuckin’ archers!” another arrow prompted Henry to voice their shared sentiment.

“Where is the archer for these arrows?” Elias finally asked.

And the wailing of the wind drowned out their silence, when Sophon couldn’t think of an answer; couldn’t think of a possible logical explanation except for a creeping suspicion that the answer to this enigma wasn’t logical at all.

“They are probably over the horizon,” Jason said.

And Henry barked a harsh laugh at this. He turned around with a grin walking sidewards, but sobered quickly after glimpsing Jason’s face. “You’re joking, right?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

Another arrow landed.

Henry turned his attention forwards. His stance betrayed a certain wariness now.

Over the horizon? Sophon thought. Impossible. It can’t be.

It couldn’t be. The extreme precision paired with the enormous range despite the chaotic wind. It couldn’t be true. Except…

Sophons cooling fluids started leaking through his silver skin. He was sweating. His silicon heart started beating faster. The pitfall in his stomach grew into a full blown black abyss. The desire to run away was painful to resist. He knew this feeling. He knew it quite well.

Left-handed magic! he realised, terrified.

Judging from the range and the precision alone, a very skilled magician at that! Any attempts at fleeing would be met with homing arrows, fast and murderous, piercing through their heads and hearts, carried by a vicious spirit cursing itself wind.

They couldn’t possibly turn around now. They were already in their range! Fleeing was futile!

The use of left-handed magic only confirmed for Sophon all the rumours he heard about The White Viper. They were all marching towards their doom!

Sophon looked back at the straight line of arrows and saw it for what it was. The mouth of a serpent, filled with razor sharp teeth, which only allowed travel in one direction: down its throat. And he could feel the sheer arrogance and the now obvious mockery that radiated from them.

Sophon closed his eyes in a painful expression and started praying. He prayed to God, Lord Jason may come out of this alive!

HENRY

It would have been simply awe inducing, were it not for the fact that he was on the receiving end of these arrows. The archer throwing these was over the horizon, it was just baffling!

Henry looked around and absorbed the landscape. No mountains, no trees, just a flat green field. It felt like they were out on the ocean, but with grass instead of water. It was such a marvellous sight. The horizon, a perfect circle around them.

“Let’s gooo!” he shouted enthusiastically. He felt Jason’s smile behind him. They were trying to scare them with some measly little arrows. He was ecstatic and eager to prove them otherwise! He was not afraid! None whatsoever, and soon enough they would consume his scrotum!

His wouldn’t be the only one getting consumed today, it appeared. It appeared that Jason’s stupid abstinence would finally come to an end after Henry had to endure it for four years! He was about to propose to this maiden, whom he was so evidently in love with. And she would accept, of course. No sane woman would refuse the advances of a man, who conquered the whole damn continent in little more than five months! And after the deed would be done, he’d finally be able to talk with his friend about fucking, like two proper men!

And of course, as his best fighter and tall and handsome guard, Henry would get the most facile time at laying with many female servants as he liked, once he completed the duties the new king would bestow upon him.

Despite Jason’s immense capabilities when it came to strategising or coming up with a battle plan, he was still in many ways an idiot. Everytime Henry would remotely refer to something sexual, he would blush like a little girl. Although more often than not Henry loved to state things as bluntly as possible, which made Jason cringe and squeal much to Henry’s, Elias’ and Nils’ amusement. He was the only one of them, who didn’t get his rod buttered yet.

And Sophon… He didn’t know what to think about Sophon. He looked like a human, he talked like a human, but did he fuck like a human? Henry had no idea how reproduction between steelwalkers worked, if they reproduced at all. Sophon was an odd steelwalker anyway for how much he was human-like. Sometimes Henry caught himself forgetting that he wasn’t one. That scared him. The only signs were his silver skin and maybe his white hair, reminding him of the brushes of a broom. As well as his eyes, being a milky white with a black pupil, occasionally dilating exceedingly.

Henry started wondering if the straight line of the horizon ever had a different shape to begin with, when he started to make out something far in the distance. And sure enough after half an hour he could make out a small hill, slowly growing in their view as they pushed forward. And as they came closer to that hill, he realised that the arrows landing in front of him ceased to appear.

He braced himself for impact.

“Of course, she would meet us at this hill,” Jason said fondly behind him.

Henry couldn’t ponder what he meant before he heard a female voice shout: “Hold it, right there!”

Henry looked up to the top of the hill and saw five figures slowly emerge, all of whom were heavily armoured men, except for a woman in the middle. The men each held giant quivers, filled with the same arrows, with which they were being shot at. The woman held a large silver recurve bow crested with a diamond and was almost dwarfed by its size. She wore a lightly sparkling light grey dress with a deep neckline. Henry stared. She was beautiful.

“Well, if it isn’t little Jayjay!” the woman smirked down upon them and lent her nearest guard her bow.

Henry laughed. “Jayjay?!” he wheezed and turned to look at him. Elias and Nils cringed as well with laughter. Henry didn’t think twice of it and decided then and there he would call him Jayjay for the rest of his life. He would never let him live this down!

“It’s nice to see you too, Josie!” Jayjay said with fond annoyance. And Henry could feel the heat radiating from his face from all the way where he stood. He peeked a glimpse at Lady Josiane and couldn’t really blame him.

“And? Did you come to conquer our homeland?” she asked in a nonchalant way that caught them off guard.

The confidence! Henry thought, marvelled.

“Well… no… we came… for another reason… actually,” Jayjay stumbled over his words.

Henry decided to help him. “We want a peace treaty!” he said and smiled his best smile at Lady Josiane.

“A peace treaty?” she echoed him. “Is that true, Jayjay?” She walked down the hill, with her hands put behind her back, seemingly non-confrontational, superior. Her guards followed her step and they slowly encircled them.

Henry exchanged a quick glance with Sophon, and smartly didn’t falter his smile. It’s fine! he thought. Jason knew what he was doing.

“Almost…” Jayjay answered her question. “I came here to propose to you! Like promised!”

And Henry resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Idiot! he thought.

MIRIAM

The lukewarm rays of a setting sun tinged the desert in an orange hue. The cloudless sky turned blood red. The occasional gentle breeze carried sand, playing the sinister song of a rattlesnake. In the midst of the desert far away from any settlement, the unexpectedly early labour of a young woman prompted them to hastily gather their company and start their ritual.

Nine women, each clad in their entirety in black veils, surrounded them in a circle and were chanting spells in the ancient azimian language. They carried the labouring girl for four hours, with her constantly screaming and wailing in waves of agony until her voice became hoarse, before they settled in a small dale between the wavy sand dunes.

After a little more than half an hour, Miriam looked at the blood soaked head that greeted her between the girl’s spread legs. The hardest part was almost done.

“Push!” she ordered her subordinate.

And Layla screeched through gritted teeth, eyes painfully closed as she tucked her chin to her chest and pushed her still unborn child out.

“Stop!” Miriam ordered with her raspy voice. “Breathe!”

Layla inhaled and exhaled in short and fast breaths. Miriam slowly pulled the child out. It wasn’t crying. How suboptimal, she thought. An alive baby always gave more potent results.

Miriam drew her dagger from its sheath to sever the navel-cord. She stood up, turned around and laid the babe on the orange sand in the middle of their circle.

Layla was breathing heavily lying behind her, covered in sweat and sand, totally exhausted. Blood soaked her dress. “No…” she exclaimed weakly. But like so many times before, her pointless motherly sentiments would not last to see another day.

Miriam pressed a finger’s touch on the babe’s chest, and with the will of the Goddess she was, spawned a raging blaze with which she set its small body into flames.

“Nooo!” Layla started crying, shedding tears as she helplessly mourned and squealed. Uselessly. The child was dead anyway.

Miriam scooped up the handful of ash, outwardly betraying nothing of its prior form and life. She stood up and held the ashes of the babe at arm's length in front of her, parading it for the nine women around them. Instilling fear in them, for they would chant their spells more effectively.

One of them would die today. The question was, who? Shall it be you? She turned to one of them, who flinched. Or you? She turned to another. Miriam always found the way each of them slightly jumped, when they faced her gaze, amusing. She couldn't see their faces, but she could see them tremble underneath their veils. This was never getting old! She also thought she could smell their sweat of fear, although it might have been the burned babe.

Then she looked down at Layla, who was still breathing heavily, and smiled at the cruel idea.

Using the child's own mother… How fitting! Why did she never think of it before?

Miriam moved forward and knelt in the sand besides Layla’s head. The nearest of the veiled women stood up and did the same, and pinned Layla’s arms down.

“What are- …you doing?” Layla asked between breaths, confused.

Miriam pulled her eyelids wide open each with the thumb and index finger of her right hand, holding the ashes in her left.

Layla begged. “No! Goddess… please! Anything-... but that! I’m your loyal slave! I’m your loyal-”

Miriam poured the still hot ashes of her miscarriage first into Layla’s right eye, then into her left.

And Layla screeched at the pain; at the new found darkness she suddenly fell in. They released her and stood up. She started grunting like an animal, foaming from her mouth. Gasping and wiggling. Screaming and shouting. This continued a while, before she started muttering undistinguishable words and suddenly fell spent, barely conscious.

“What did you see?” Miriam demanded from her with her raspy voice. She knelt beside her, grabbed her shoulders and shook her harshly. “What did you see?!” she demanded again.

Miriam stared into Layla’s eyes, each now a black void. She opened her mouth to speak and Miriam put her ear closer to her mutterance.

“Lightning strike-... white snake-... burning-... egg… dragon-... egg… child of-... light… light… light-…” Layla fell unconscious. Her chest slowly flattened as she took her last breath.

Miriam sobered and slowly stood up. She looked at the red line of the horizon, where the sun had disappeared and breathed once through her nose. The slowly impending darkness and cool air of the evening did nothing to soothe the frustration she felt.

She spent seven months feeding this good for nothing twat raw pork, snake blood, human bones and the afterbirth of black cats, and only got this undermining result? This measly excuse of a prophecy?! Unacceptable! Miriam thought.

Miriam spat on Layla’s corpse. She had failed her enough times.

“Get up! We’re heading back!” she rasped to her subordinates.

ELIAS

“Woah! That looks delicious!” Elias marvelled at the meals they were getting served. Steak marinated with herbs he never had the luxury to even smell, on top of being well salted. Exotic fruits he didn’t know even existed on top of large leaves of lettuce. Wine, that was supposedly as old as the last kingdom's downfall. He had seen the rich and fertile lands on their way here, and guessed as much. The livestock was fat and well fed. He had wondered what their meat might taste like and now he would get to find out first hand. And that was merely the beginning. Lady Josiane had promised cake as well.

Elias was getting a little jealous. The climate in Hossenfeld didn’t allow a yearlong harvest and winter was harsh, while it seemed that Windschild had even warm breezes in the midst of fall. And although the great hall they dined in wasn’t much bigger than theirs, the elegant carvings in glittering marble were astonishing and the beauty of it was impossible not to be envied.

Elias ran a hand on the table… so smooth! he delighted. He looked at the silverware and the clear glass and the porcelain. It was a supper quite fit for a king.

“What’s the matter?” Lady Josiane asked, when they didn’t start dining immediately. “Scared I might poison you, JayJay?” she said and smiled sardonically.

“With you, one does never know, dear Josie!” Lord Jason smiled at her. He stopped the maid, who was about to pour wine into his glass. “Remember when you put fire ants in my socks?”

And Josiane hit her head against her chair, when she barked a loud laugh. “I was five!” she clarified. “And he deserved it!” she explained to Henry, who also rejected the wine.

Elias saw Sophon gently squeezing Nils’ arm, who subtly nodded and stood up from his chair, walking up to Jason’s side.

“My friend… I think that won’t be necessary!” Jason said but ultimately allowed Lord Nils to taste his meal first, when he saw Henry’s intent look.

Nils started chewing. Elias started sweating, when he saw Lady Josiane’s slanted eyes, her smile gone. The air filled with electricity when she looked at her guests one after another. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. Henry neutrally stared back. Elias slightly jumped, when Josiane met his eyes. She was pretty, yes, but she had scary eyes and her silent fury was frightening.

Then she locked her gaze on Sophon and didn’t falter her intense stare. And Sophon’s glare grew more hateful with every passing second.

Exactly half a minute had passed, although it felt much longer than that, when Nils finally stopped chewing. “Everything clear,” he quietly confirmed and sat back down.

“Great! Can we finally eat?!” Jason asked the table impatiently.

“You may!” Lady Josiane corrected his grammar. “Although, I don’t understand how I’m supposed to take no offence…” she regarded Sophon. “...given you so subtly accuse me of trying to poison my cousin,” she said in her honeyed voice with a peculiar venomous undertone.

“Wait… cousin?” Henry snickered.

Lady Josiane leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table she tucked her chin on her hands. “You’re a steelwalker, aren’t you?” Josiane smiled solemnly at Sophon.

And Sophon grew even more irate. “And so what if I am?!” he retorted, so unlike his usual calm and calculating demeanour.

“Sophon…” Jason voiced their shared surprise. Elias never witnessed Sophon this flustered.

“I’m just curious, that’s all!” Josiane said in a brighter tone, and her smile got nicer. “I’ve never seen a steelwalker like you before!”

“Excuse him… he’s my advisor and spymaster. Being suspicious is his duty,” Lord Jason tried to explain.

Sophon nervously glimpsed a glance at Lord Jason before he asked, “Are you affiliated with The Black Witch?” And they all went silent.

Lord Jason grabbed his forehead.

The Black Witch? Elias wondered.

And Josiane’s expression fell oddly neutral, when the silence stretched. Everyone who stared at Sophon was now staring at her awaiting her response.

“Who?” Josiane asked with a furrowed brow.

“Do not feign ignorance!” Sophon quietly trembled. Elias couldn’t tell whether he was scared or angry or both.

“Sophon! What in God’s name is wrong with you?” Jason heatedly asked him, shielding his face from Josiane with an open palm.

“She was using left-handed magic!” Sophon leaned towards him and whispered, a plea in his face.

And Jason smashed hands flat on the table. “Are you in all seriousness accusing my future wife of witchcraft and sorcery?!”

“I didn’t say ‘yes’, yet,” Josiane interjected.

And Jason’s head jerked a sharp turn towards her. ”What?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically high.

“I haven’t expressed my approval of your proposal… yet,” she repeated slowly, while studying her nails.

And Elias could have almost laughed at the relief that ran through Sophon’s body. Almost. If he also didn’t see the way his friend froze in place. Poor Lord Jason! he thought.

Nils awkwardly sipped from his wine. Elias and Henry exchanged worrying glances before Henry offered, “Maybe you two should talk this one out in private…”

“Great idea!” Lady Josiane said and stood up from her chair. “Please don’t wait on us! Enjoy your meals, before they might get cold!” She put her arms behind her back in what Elias now realised was betraying a certain military background. “Should you be in need of anything, you may call for my favourite maids Anna and Chiara.” Josiane inclined her head away from Jason. “They are… very… friendly!” she said as she blinked Henry and Elias a wink.

Elias felt Henry smile beside him. Probably contrary to him, he wasn’t so sure about wanting to find out exactly how friendly these maids might become.

Lady Josiane grabbed Lord Jason by the hand. “Come with me, Jayjay!” She led him across the great hall. “And brace yourself! Tomorrow you’ll be disappointed!”

As soon as they disappeared around the corridor Henry started laughing. “He’s marrying his cousin!” he wheezed and clapped his hands. And Nils and Elias were starting to laugh as well, for his laugh was extremely contagious.

Sophon didn’t laugh, but Sophon never laughed. He just looked like he wanted to follow them really badly.

Elias sobered. A thought gave him pause. They didn’t look like cousins. “Although, by the looks of it, he’s probably not,” Elias said.

“Honestly, probably for the better,” Henry said and searched for an affirmative glance from Sophon he didn’t receive.

Elias grabbed his silverware and started chipping away at his steak, which prompted the other men on the table to start eating as well. And before he even could realise it, the whole thing was gone. It was so delicious! He asked for more, and they brought them more! This was the best food he had ever eaten in a long time! And when the kitchen staff brought in the huge cake, Elias gasped. This had to be what Heaven looked like!

JASON

“You’ve changed things quite a lot here,” Jason acknowledged, while looking around her room.

Josie silently sat on the food of her canopy bed and studied him. He couldn’t read her neutral face and her quiet was unusual for her. Jason dreaded this silence. He dreaded she might expand on her earlier inquisition and outwardly refuse his advance altogether. Jason needed time to think.

He didn’t have time to think.

While looking around, Josie’s newly acquired props and accessories were objects of his genuine curiosity, as well as welcomed distractions. He needed to stall time to gather his words and polish his case; to give her the one offer she could never refuse.

The chess table struck his sight first, the pieces were already moved and in the middle of a game. Jason walked up to it and studied the position. He didn’t miss the eloquent azimian craftsmanship that brought it forth. He thought about provoking her into a game, knowing very well she would probably beat him. Even severely out of practice Jason was pretty good. But ‘pretty good’ wasn’t good enough for Josie. She would beat him more often than not even when they had been children, in spite of Jason being four years her senior.

“Uhm… you wanna play a round?” Jason nervously asked her.

Josie leaned back on her arms. “Maybe another day, Jayjay,” she promised, with a tender look on her face he had never seen before. Jason had to turn his head away, in order to hide his blush.

He saw the thick books decorating her study and approached them. Some were in Igellish, others in Azimian. Jason recognized one of the books, ‘Benjamin the Silent’. It was the dramatisation of the life and reign of the second to last king of Igelland. King Benjamin was a kind and honourable man. However, the world he lived in was not. Jason thought his tutor put it best, when he summarised, He was bound by four horses, each one pulling him in another direction until he and the kingdom was ripped apart. If God allowed Jason to become King, he had to make sure not to repeat Benjamin’s mistakes.

Next Jason saw the weapons that lined the wall opposite of Josie’s bed. “Woah!” he was stunned.

There was a mace, a couple of different sorts of swords, and a spear. But what struck him most was the giant silver recurve bow he saw on her earlier, the one she used to throw arrows at them. Jason walked up to it and noticed the symmetry of its shape, the metallic hue it was clad in and the huge diamond in its middle.

“Where’d you get that?!” Jason asked, absolutely amazed.

If any bow could reach enemies over the horizon, it was probably this one. It looked like a steelwalker’s artefact more than anything. It probably relied on some form of right-handed magic, rather than left-handed one. Sophon must be surely mistaken in his assessment. His prejudice, or the false or only partially true rumours he had heard, must have clouded his mind. Josie was beautiful, confident… a genius.

Jason’s hand moved to grab the bow, but right before he could lay hands on it Josie intervened, “Did you find my father’s killer?”

And Jason’s hand jerked back and his posture shrunk, when she inevitably asked one of the few dreaded questions.

He didn’t.

He had no idea where her father’s murderer was, whatsoever. He didn’t know his name, or how he looked. He was completely in the dark on the matter.

Jason slowly turned around. “No…” he admitted and rubbed the back of his head. “But once I will be King of Igelland, I will not only have the resources to facilitate a large-scale search…“ Jason began his case. “...I will enforce laws and order, such so that a tragedy like the one that befell Uncle Julian will never be able to occur ever again!” Jason said and cut the air with his hand.

Josiane slanted her eyes with obvious scepticism. Jason gulped. You are losing her, the thought urged him.

He closed the distance between them, driven by a sudden wave of bravery, and knelt in front of her.

“But I need you!” Jason said.

Josiane straightened her back where she sat on her bed and looked wearily down on him.

“I need your help!" He took her hands. "You’re the most beautiful, and smartest girl I know of!” He looked deeply into her light blue eyes. “Well educated and a genius!” He looked at the beautiful brown hair lining her pale face. “I can’t do it without you!” he hoarsely admitted and kissed her hand. “I need you to be my queen! I need you by my side, if I want to reunite the kingdom!”

Josiane was slowly getting enchanted by his words as Jason put his hand into his bag, and pulled an engagement ring out. It was silver crested with a polished smaragd he had manufactured just for her. She silently gasped at the ring Jason put on her finger. He knew she hated gold and loved the colour green.

Jason tightly held her hands and they locked their eyes. Maybe it was just the dim candlelight, but her eyes relayed something Jason didn’t quite understand. Something that compelled him to bring his head closer to hers and maybe kiss her. And so he almost did, their lips brushing, before he remembered himself.

Not before marriage! Get your act together! he reminded himself.

But just when he decided to pull away, she put her hands around his neck and pressed a kiss onto his lips.

The newly found heat seemed to invade his head and wander down to his core, making his heart pulse hard against his chest in the process. It was hard to think… yes… so hard….

Josie broke the kiss. Jason looked into her face, and saw his own desire reflected in it.

“You want to make me your queen?” she asked in a whisper.

“Yes!” Jason breathed, captured in the spell of her eyes, those gorgeous eyes!

“Then prove it!” she breathed back. “Kiss my feet!” she ordered in a low voice.

What? Jason froze with surprise and looked at her. He then looked down to see she already had her boots removed, he didn’t register when she did that. Desire and his curiosity got the better of him, so he moved down to kiss her feet, reluctantly at first. But when he looked up to her face and saw her arousal, he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“That’s it…” she purred. “That’s where you belong…” she honeyed. On your knees, kissing my feet, she didn’t add. She didn’t need to.

Damn it, Josie! he thought. She always found new ways to humiliate him, since they were children. He once hated that about her. But now she somehow found a way to make his humiliation pleasurable for him. And it was scary as well as exciting; scary in how exciting it was! She will be the end of him!

Josie grabbed his hair and pulled, leading him slowly along her leg, which Jason lined with kisses. When his head reached the corner, she lifted her dress to reveal the part of her that seldom saw the light of the day.

Jason’s blood boiled into his ears. He never saw one in person before, only the illustrations and drawings in medicine books. Was she… was she naked all this time?

“Kiss me!” Josie ordered with a lustful breath.

But when he wanted to lift his head to do so, she pushed him back down with her hand. Oh… she meant… oh… ohhhh… okay! Jason understood.

And he kissed her. And Josie started moving to the rhythm of his tongue. Her breathing grew more shallow, as she grabbed his hair and forcefully pressed him against herself, pushing periodically. And the frequency was only rising as she suddenly leaned back, laying flat on her bed, and started moaning.

Jason listened to her moans, breathed in her scent, her taste on his tongue, her nails digging in his head. He opened his eyes and looked up to her face. Her expression was pained from pleasure.

She was his whole world now. And all he could think about was how much he wanted to sink deeper into that world!

Josiane glimpsed down at him, and their eyes met. Her lustful gaze stirred something in Jason. She pulled the strings of her dress astray and laid her bare chest free. She then pinched the end of her right breast.

“Angh!” she loudly moaned as she jerked her head back.

And Jason felt like he couldn’t hold back anymore. She was so unbelievably beautiful! It was getting harder and harder to constrain himself… so hard!

He needed her! He needed her!

Jason removed his head from her groyne and Josie high-pitched a protest in frustration. He made room for himself by slightly lifting her and sliding her further back on the bed. He never had cursed the constraints of armour as much as right now, where it seemed like he couldn’t remove this damn pauldron in time. Josie on the other hand didn’t waste any, when she worked to remove his belt.

The desire in their breathing seemed only to grow with each passing heartbeat, and so did their urgency.

Finally the last piece of clothing was removed and hastily cast aside. She put a hand on his core. Her pale skin was contrasting his dark one, as her hand slowly wandered down.

She suddenly grabbed him.

“Ahh! Not so tight!” Jason blurted out.

And Josie just snickered her cruel smile at him, before she pinched his tip. And he jerked back his hips as he sharply inhaled through teeth.

Josiane just laughed. Of course she wouldn’t make this pleasurable for him. Of course!

Jason decided that her time to be humbled was long overdue. He pushed her back flat on the bed. She gasped with surprise. He quickly moved on top of her and pinned her down. There was nowhere she could run away now.

He tried to kiss her, but her lips were shut. Jason bit her under lip, asking for admission. She gave it to him and opened up…

And he entered her.

Josie muffled a pained moan in his mouth. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and they hugged tightly… yes… so tight!

He felt her heart pound in her chest. And Jason couldn’t tell her heat apart from his; Couldn’t tell where she began and where he ended. She would be the end of him!

To her agony, Jason began to move, slowly at first. He felt her sharp nails run along his back, but the pain eluded him, there was simply too much else to feel.

After a while her painful exclaims slowly became melodic moans of pleasure. Jason sped up, sinking deeper inside her.

Some time had passed, when he finally awoke from the deep well of instinct, he realised he was spent.

They were both breathing heavily, covered in a fine film of sweat. Jason looked at Josie and Josie looked at Jason. Her smile was everything for him. He kissed her mouth. He kissed her cheek. He kissed her neck.

Josiane’s breathing was hiking. “My Love?” she purred in his ear. “May this be enough for today?” she asked, exhausted.

Jason felt the way her legs trembled and how her grip got weaker and realised that she had reached her limit. They both had.

He rolled over with the protest of exhaustion. She laid her head on his chest and he pressed her against him. He rubbed his head against hers. He breathed in her scent. She smelled of lemons, an odour he just realised how much he had missed. He felt her breath tingle his skin. He embraced her warmth. He was the happiest man alive.

Josie gave him a long sigh of satisfaction. “Don’t you think I’ve forgotten that you have yet to keep your promise,” she honeyed with her beautiful voice.

He had not forgotten. He will find that bastard and put him to justice! He would do everything for her!

“I’ve not forgotten!” Jason breathed in her hair. “Josie… now with you on my side, there is nothing stopping me! Nothing stopping us!” he played at her ambitious side.

Josie lifted her head at this, and slowly disentangled herself from him. She got up and silently sat on the side of her bed, turning her head away from him.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked.

He saw how she slowly folded herself in place, hugging her middle, her spine now lining her back. It looked a little like she was… like she was…

“Everything alright?” he worried and got up to sit beside her. Did I say something wrong? he wondered.

He wanted to lay a hand on her back so he could comfort her, but her entire body jerked at his touch and she stood up. Jason wished he could get a glimpse of her face, maybe then he would understand what was going on. Josie slowly walked up to her bedroom doors and grabbed the door knobs.

“What are you doing? You’re still naked!” Jason chuckled at her, amused by her aloofness.

He just now saw the tear of blood running along her leg and sobered. He couldn’t ponder it, when Josie suddenly opened the doors and walked out. Jason saw two guards in the hallway, who got interrupted in their conversation from the doors loudly squealing on their hinges, echoing in the hallway. Upon their recognition of their Lady Josiane in her apparent nudity, they were appalled.

Then Josie spoke, so faintly he just barely could make it out. “Guards…” she began. ”Lord Jason just committed an abhorrent crime against my royal person.” She turned around, and Jason glimpsed at her face, awfully neutral underneath her tears. “Seize him,” she quietly ordered.

And Jason froze in place.

ELIAS

“And till today… he insists that he did everything right!” Henry told Anna about Nils.

Elias knew the story he was telling. He heard it countless times. It was Henry's cardinal anecdote, when it came time to amuse maidens. He had to smile already for he knew its conclusion.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I did everything right!” Nils confirmed Henry of his insistence.

Anna chuckled at him. She had a lovely smile and voluminous blonde hair, reminding Elias of his mother. “What was it anyway?” she asked Nils.

“A special oil for love making,” Henry preempted his answer.

“A lubricant, if you wish,” Nils corrected him.

“So, what are you exactly? Some sort of physician?” Anna asked Nils with big eyes.

“He is!” Henry boasted of Nils. “A very capable one at that! But when he tested said lubricant with his concubine…” Henry paused in order to build suspense. ”...they both got itchy rashes!”

Anna put a hand on her mouth. “Oh, nooohoho!” she laughed. “You mean…” she pointed downwards with a finger.

“Yes!” Henry confirmed with a big nod and an intent look.

Anna shut her mouth with both hands and started wheezing, her face blushing red. Elias started to laugh as well. It was indeed a funny anecdote. Anna searched for Nils’ boyish face, who smiled at her through his weary eyes and nodded confirmation. She laughed with vicarious embarrassment.

“Understandably…” Nils said. ”...next time I came with a bottle in my hands and a promise that ‘it will work this time’, she grabbed it and threw it out the window.”

Anna chuckled. “Understandably… yeah!” she nodded with a grin. “But… could you maybe… make that lubricant right now?” she asked and gave Henry a suggestive look.

The three men all raised their eyebrows in unison. Holy Sophia! Elias thought. She sure is friendly!

Elias couldn’t say the same for the other maid, who had joined their company under Henry’s request. Chiara just silently watched the wine glass, which she was fiddling in her hand, sitting on the far end of the table. Whether of boredom or something else, Elias couldn’t tell. She had slanted eyes, a sharp chin and smooth dark brown hair and was clad in the same dark blue coat dress lined with silver like every other maid here. He thought she was prettier than Anna, supposedly just as flirtatious, but looked more occupied in her thoughts and rather disinterested.

Elias thought about sitting next to her and maybe to prompt her to join the conversation. But he couldn’t think of something to break the ice.

He looked at Henry and Nils, who were still talking with Anna. Then he looked at Sophon, who was occupied with something in his hands, and Sophon decided to reciprocate his attention back at him. He stood up from his chair and gestured towards Elias to follow his step. So Elias stood up and followed Sophon away from the table where the others sat.

“What’s wrong?” Elias quietly asked.

“Listen! This is very important!” Sophon whispered. He shortly glimpsed at the others, who were still in conversation. Elias noticed Chiara now observing them.

“In the case of my demise, please hand this to Lord Jason,” Sophon asked of Elias and handed him a black plate.

Elias studied it in his hands. It was an elongated thin black plate with the smoothness of a mirror and a perfect rectangular shape just a tad bit smaller than his hand. It looked like polished obsidian.

“What is this?” Elias asked, confused.

“A light stone,” Sophon answered.

Elias gasped. “A light st-...” He gulped. A light stone?!

Sophon the steelwalker, The Silver General, just deemed him worthy of carrying a light stone! What did he do to deserve this? “Why me?” Elias didn’t understand.

“Because you’re the one most likely to survive…” Sophon explained. “...and I trust your judgement,” he added.

“I highly doubt that!” Elias contradicted. “Henry is more likely to survive for sure! He once overtook six men at once!” he tried to discredit his case, and pointed towards said warrior with his eyes. “And survive what in particular?” he worried, having registered the implications.

Sophon moved his head closer. “I am afraid The White Viper might not hand over Windschild without some resistance. It is best to be prepared for everything above anything else,” he said with the air of confiding a secret. “Besides… six men might not be sufficient for taking him down…” Sophon glimpsed over to Henry. “...but a sole woman is.”

Elias looked at Henry and Anna. She just barked with laughter at another of his stories. Then Chiara got his attention again, for she stared quite intently at Elias… or maybe at Sophon. And Elias wondered if these maids did serve another purpose rather than simply entertaining them. He felt determined to find out.

“Understood!” Elias said to Sophon. He put the stone in his pant’s pocket. Sophon patted his shoulder as they separated. Chiara watched them approach the table and he decided to sit beside her.

“Hey… ehm… I think you’re really pretty!” he said to her.

“Thank you,” Chiara said and gave him a soft smile.

He glimpsed at Henry, who repeatedly nodded at him, impressed.

“What were you two talking about?” Chiara asked him.

Elias chuckled to himself. He was thinking she would ask that. “Ah, nothing important!” Elias fiddled with a fork. “You could say, I just got promoted.”, he tried to be vague.

“Did you get promoted?” Chiara asked him to clarify.

And Elias looked across the room as he had to ponder whether even admitting as much would be enough to bite him later in the rear.

“Nah, just temporarily!” Elias waved his hand, downplaying the important mission he got from Sophon.

“So you were given a mission?” Chiara asked him.

Elias looked at her.

This soft-spoken girl with the rumour of a smile on her lips was so blatantly calculating underneath her curious exterior. Elias gazed into her blue eyes. They were a similar blue as Josiane’s, maybe a little darker, but were nowhere nearly as frightening.

Perhaps he looked for a little too long, for her pupils started dilating. So he looked away instead, feeling like he was scaring her. He knew that people more often than not thought that he looked brutish.

A guard appeared at the entrance to the great hall. “Excuse my intrusion, m’Lords!” he began. “But the Lady Josiane and Lord Jason have invited you to attend their engagement ceremony!”

And the great hall went silent, everyone just stared at the guard until Henry suddenly stood up and erratically shouted, “Wooo! Let’s gooo!” He slammed his hands on the table. “Ma boy did it! It’s done!”

Was it really done? Elias couldn’t believe it. The five provinces of Igelland after over 119 years of separation would be finally united again?

“Yes!” Henry enthusiastically shook his fists.

“Yes!” Elias couldn’t contain his excitement and stood up from his chair. Vouching for the coal with a golden heart was the best decision of his life. He couldn’t wait to bring his brother the good news; the fruits of their labour. The kingdom would be finally united! Igelland would rise from its ashes once again!

Nils stood up and smiled at Henry and then Elias. It was the biggest smile he ever saw on him, it suited his childlike features. Henry took Anna by the hand and led her from her chair. The two started dancing and she giggled in his arms.

Elias glimpsed at Sophon, who wasn’t celebrating but instead sullen. Elias thought he didn’t make sense. Lord Jason and Lady Josiane were about to get married, the matter was pretty much settled, Windschild effectively conquered and that without bloodshed. There was no reason to feel apprehensive anymore… or was there still?

“We can dance later on at the wedding!” Henry promised Anna, holding her hands. “Please, Sir guard, show us the way!” He left Anna to walk up to the man in silver white armour, who nodded affirmation at his request. The bearded guard turned around and led them to follow.

Henry and Nils followed him immediately. Elias imitated Sophon’s reluctance, thinking he might interject something. But he said nothing except for giving Elias a dissatisfied smile, and they moved to recover the others.

They followed the guard around two corners and walked up a staircase. When Elias glimpsed the way they came, he noticed that Anna and Chiara weren’t following them. Maybe they thought it wasn’t their place as maids, but he hoped this wasn’t the last they saw of the both. He wondered if he could dance with Chiara later on at the wedding as well.

When they cut the next corner, they saw the long corridor lined by twelve guards, six on each side, and on its end a closed double door. Elias noticed how Sophon slowed down.

“Behold!” the guard, whom they were following, loudly pronounced. “Lord Jason… and Lady Josiane!” The guard made way for-...

“RUUUN!” They heard the muffled scream behind the doors.

The double doors suddenly flew wide open, with a swift kick from the emerging figure, who held and released the arrow she was tensing against a giant silver recurve bow. The deafening screech of a hawk followed and forced them to shut their ears. The accompanied strong gust of wind dragged them along, almost tripping them over. And when the dust settled, Elias looked at Henry, who was unharmed. He looked at Nils, also unharmed. He looked at himself, unharmed. He turned around…

He saw a white arrow pinning a black heart to a wall. He saw Sophon lying on the ground with a big hole in the middle of his chest, grey fluid spilling out the gaping wound.

He was dead.

HENRY

"NOOO!" he heard Jason's voice yell.

Henry looked at the still body that was once The Silver General.

“Seems like his human-like appearance came at the cost of his resilience,” The White Viper taunted.

Henry turned towards her. “Bloody bitch!” he grunted and charged at her.

He was fast. Only the farthest two guards could hope to halt him. But he struck one across the face and gracefully avoided the sword of the other. He used the momentum to draw his own sword. Henry didn’t waste time on the vipers numerous tails, instead he was aiming straight for its head.

But Josiane didn’t waste any time either, for her next arrow was already tensed against the string of her bow. This time aiming at Henry.

“Josie, DON’T!” Jason yelled behind her, his voice rich with emotion.

And The White Viper’s aim jerked downwards.

Henry felt the sharp sting in his foot tripping him over. He buffered his fall with his arms, hitting the ground abruptly. He moved to stand up, but froze with a cold blade on his neck.

“Don’t move!” the deep voice of the wielder threatened him.

Henry lifted his head only slowly as he didn’t want to provoke the guard into slicing his throat. He saw Jason behind the door frame, naked and on his knees, held down by another guard.

He really didn’t like the picture of that!

Henry pulled his throwable knife from its sheath and aimed for the captivator's head. The surprise with which Josiane jolted, at the blade barely missing her head, was surely satisfying. And the unseemly projectile hit its intended target, who trotted on his feet before falling over.

Jason was freed, but more importantly, he was also armed now. Moreover, he was closer to Josiane than any of her living guards.

A naked Jason pulled his weapon out of a dead man's face and quickly closed the distance to a treacherous wench. She had barely enough time to register what had happened and turn around, when he tackled her, pinned her down and held a blood soaked knife against her throat. Arrows spilled from her quiver.

Jason glared daggers at her. But Josiane’s expression was affectless.

He felt the guard’s blade tense against his neck.

“Nobody moves or she’s dead!” Jason loudly warned the corridor.

And Henry felt the guard’s blade lose its grip. That’s ma boy! Henry was proud; proud of how fast he turned things around.

Now that they took Josiane hostage, they could use her life to bargain for their own lives and escape.

“Everything alright? Lord Henry?” Jason asked, his eyes awfully fixed on his hostage.

“Except for an arrow piercing my foot? I’m great! Wasn’t better!” Henry laughed.

“And you? Lord Nils?” Jason asked.

“I’m fine! No injuries here!” Nils answered, held in place by guards.

“Lord Elias?” Jason searched.

“I’m fine as well…” Elias affirmed, also held in place. “...but… but…”

But Sophon was dead, Elias couldn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Henry saw Jason cringe, eyes briefly shut with sorrow.

Jason took a deep breath. “Here is what is going to happen…” Jason began his ultimatum. “...you will release-...”

“Guards!” Josiane loudly interjected. “If Lord Jason neither kills me… or releases me within the next ten seconds… then kill all his friends!”

Jason scrutinised Josiane with an outraged look and then lifted his brows, disturbed. She neutrally stared back at him.

She’s bluffing! Henry thought. “Don’t listen to her! She’s crazy!” Henry urgently warned Jason as well as the guards around them. “We came here to make peace! We still can make peace!”

But Jason fidgeted under Josiane’s cold stare. And his face took on an expression of despair. He dropped the knife.

“No!” Henry exasperated. The blade at his neck tensed again.

Jason got off of Josie, and she stood up. “Seize him!” she ordered the nearest free guards, who immediately moved to follow her order.

Jason didn’t resist in his naked state, when the two guards seized him by his arms and pulled him up to stand.

Henry saw how Josiane walked up to him and whispered something into Jason’s ear, which Henry couldn’t make out. She then turned around and regarded the guards, who kept Henry in place.

“Beat him unconscious!” she ordered.

“Wait…” Henry could only produce before he felt the blunt pain at the back of his head, and darkness consumed his vision.

Henry abruptly awoke to a sharp pain in his foot.

“Ah! What the hell!?” he was irritated and lifted his head to see Nils and Elias at his feet. Elias lifted his left leg, while Nils was grabbing the arrow's broken shaft, their armour removed, leaving them with plain white garments.

“You’re awake?” Nils examined.

“Yeah… no shit, I’m awake!” Henry spat. “What are you doing?” he asked, angered.

“I’m removing the arrow,” Nils explained and to Henry's agony he started doing good on his word.

Henry grunted at the pain. “Stop! Fuck!” he lashed out and pushed Nils away. “I’mma do it myself!” He sat up and pulled his leg away from Elias. He grabbed the arrow’s broken shaft, its tip and feathers already removed, and whilst grunting and heavily breathing slowly pulled the foreign body out of his foot. Blood dripped on the bed on which he had laid. Henry felt how the back of his head still hurt and laid back with an exhausted sigh.

“Let me see that!” Nils said and grabbed his left foot by the ankle to study it.

Henry started scanning his surroundings. The dark cell, in which they found themselves in, was made of three walls of black slate and iron bars with an iron door. It had an elevated and barricaded small window, through which the new moon didn’t emit any light. Instead a torch in the hallway was gently illuminating their cell.

Henry saw Jason cowering in the corner behind the head of the other of the two beds. At least they gave him something to wear.

Nils held a piece of cloth up to Henry's mouth. “Spit on it,” he ordered with the gentle authority of a physician.

Henry felt his throat suddenly dry up. He had to clean his throat multiple times, before he could gather enough fluid, and spat on the cloth.

“A little more!” Nils demanded.

“I’m gonna spit your asshole wet for my cock!” Henry slighted him, losing patience less with Nils and more with the whole predicament they found themselves in.

Nils audibly exhaled through his nose, disappointed. He took the cloth with his spit, wrapped it around his foot and tightly tied the wound shut, making Henry inhale sharply through his teeth from the pain.

Henry shook his head. “I’m sorry!” he apologised. It wasn’t fair to hold Nils accountable for what had happened. It wasn’t his fault.

Henry glimpsed at Jason, who stared back at him from the corner where he cowered, tears in his eyes and absolutely mortified. “I’m so sorry!” Jason cried, as if he guessed Henry’s train of thoughts. “I should’ve listened to him! If I had listened to him, this whole thing wouldn't have happened!”

“Hey! Don’t beat yourself up about it!” Elias tried to console him. “You couldn’t have known that this would have happened!”

“He couldn’t have known?” Henry questioned. “Of course, he could have known!” he disputed. “Sophon only tried to warn him multiple times, and he didn’t listen! And look what happened…” Henry gave Elias an intent look from where he laid. “...he’s dead!”

Jason started breathing unevenly.

“Crying doesn’t bring the dead back!” Henry scolded him. I thought I taught you that.

“Okay… but what did you do, Henry?” Elias argued. “You didn’t take Sophon by his word either!”

“I’m not the one giving out fucking orders!” he refuted. “I’m the muscle guy. Thinking is his job!” He gestured with his head towards Jason. “It was his job and he failed… miserably!”

Jason buried his face in his palm.

“What happened, anyway?” Nils inquired. “I thought she was your cousin. Why would she do this?” he turned to Jason and asked him.

“And why were you naked?” Elias asked, perplexed.

“I don’t know… I-…” Jason exhaled unevenly. “I thought everything was fine, until… I-... I don’t know… she-... she accused me of-...” he stammered. ”...she accused me of-... ”

“Spit it the fuck out!” Henry lost patience. “What did she accuse you of?!”

Jason wiped away his tears. “We slept together… and then… something changed… I’m not sure…” he tried to explain, looking down to the floor, ashamed.

Nils searched for Henry’s look, but he was too busy considering Jason. “Did you... rape her?” Nils asked, his tone neutral enough.

But Jason’s head sharply jerked towards him. “Obviously not!” he was incensed.

Nils scrutinised him. “It’s not that obvious,” he said.

“It is obvious that that whore set him up!” Henry asserted. “Ahhh, of course… That’s why the guards didn’t follow his orders!” he realised, waving his hand with understanding.

Henry let his head fall back. Saying that he was frustrated, would be an understatement.

“It didn’t look like the guards considered him to be the heir of Windschild to begin with,” Nils pointed out.

He was right. Henry thought back to how they were encircling them, when they first met Josiane. And not at any point did a sole guard bow for Jason or show respect in any other way.

Henry became suspicious. “Did she vet them?” he asked Jason.

Jason considered him. “No, I don’t think so…” he answered. “The guards are first and foremost loyal to my aunt.”

“To your aunt?” Henry echoed him. “So her mother?” he asked.

“Yes,” Jason answered. “But… my aunt would never approve of this!” he preempted Henry’s accusation. “She loves me and practically has raised me!”

Henry looked at Nils, who shared his scepticism. “You never know with family…” Nils said in his monotone voice. “Sometimes they may be your worst enemies…”

Henry smiled at the ludicrousness. “...as we all learned, undoubtedly today!” he added and laughed.

Elias shook his head. “It’s almost like we're living in a book of drama! Have the Lords read ‘Benjamin, the Silent’?”

“Not now, Elias!” Henry shut him down. “We need to talk about what happens next!” he put forward and looked at Jason. “What is the plan?” he asked him. You rode us into this mess… Now get us the fuck out!

Henry patiently watched him wipe away his tears and slowly straighten up on where he sat and take a deep shaky breath. “There are really only two things we could do… well… one really…” Jason suggested. “Either wait for my aunt to return, but that would take weeks at least. Or wait for General Arved to come up with something.”

“So it boils down to The Golden General…” Henry spoke. “Again!” He was a little frustrated. Why, he hated that guy! Well… hate was probably a strong word.

“I wish I could communicate with him…” Jason said. “...but I left my light stone in my bag!” he stressed hopelessly.

“Wait!” Elias exclaimed. “Sophon gave me one for you!” Elias put his hand into his pants and pulled out a black rectangular plate. He walked up to Jason and pressed it into his hands.

Jason confirmed the light stone and grinned at it with sorrow.

“I hid it, when they disarmed us,” he explained. “He was prepared for everything,” Elias said gently and put a hand on Jason’s shoulder, and he started crying again.

“For fucks sake…” Henry shook his head, tired of this. He felt his foot pulse with pain.

“Henry?” Elias turned his head towards him. “Wouldn’t you say you’re being very insensitive right now?” he challenged him.

Henry looked at Nils, who stared neutrally back at him, and rolled his eyes. “You’re right, Elias! I guess I am!” he admitted half-heartedly. Nils smiled at him.

“Damn it!” Jason hoarsely cursed. “It’s a light stone that requires sunlight!”

“What?” Elias processed. ”Ohhh! Thank the gods, this cell has a window!” he remarked.

“Good!” Henry said. “Which means Arved just has to survive the night… No problem!”

ARVED

It was a remarkable sight, the stars, such beauty. And the remedy in his heart grew, when the ambience reminded him of the nights he would spend with Emily. He missed her. But Arved would see her soon enough again, given the circumstance of their awaited victory. Once Windschild was conquered, hopefully without the need of his intervention, he planned to take her on vacation to the rich and idyllic town that profited from a frequent trade overseas with the Al-Azim’s. He smiled at himself knowing very well already, that she will overindulge herself in various souvenirs and zest at all the cultural acquisitions.

And of course he wished to see Windschild for himself as well, but not now… not today, not tomorrow. Not as a conqueror.

Arved knew that in the south the days were longer but the sun was setting more abruptly. And the further they had gone south the more it seemed that way. So putting up camp when the sky still had been a light blue, always felt a little strange, like they could have got out more of the day.

“General?” Arved heard a familiar voice curiously greet him. He turned to see a pale face illuminated by a torch. The thin and tall man, who was his lookalike except in the smoothness of his long blonde hair, respectfully bowed to him. “Pardon my intrusion, general! When the guards told us that you’ve yet to return, we got a little worried!”

Arved considered the man. “It’s fine, commander! I wish to be alone,” he ordered him.

“Your Order!” he affirmed. “Do you wish to keep my torch?” he offered.

“No need! I have the stars,” Arved declined.

Commander Sebastian bowed respectfully before he turned around to leave him alone.

He breathed in the cold air of the night, feeling the gentle breeze on his skin. The way how the wind always blew from one direction didn’t elude him. A constant force upon his side, weak but persistent. Arved turned towards it. Roughly in that direction lied Windschild. If he didn’t misassess the flow of time, and didn’t misread from the positions of the Stars of Hal, about six hours should have passed, since Lord Jason’s departure. Windschild was about a two hour journey from where the army was currently located, so they could be still in the middle of negotiations.

Lengthy negotiations…

Arved pulled his light stone out and tapped on the rectangular plate’s smooth black surface two times with his finger, white letters appeared on it, but still he didn’t recognize any new message. He should have gotten affirmation by now.

Lord Jason had claimed that he had a certain strategy, which he wanted to apply. He should know, given Windschild was his native town. But Arved couldn’t stop thinking back on how it had been, when they took over the former capital of the old kingdom; how that brute of a guard couldn’t hold his uncouth mouth, when it came to the duke’s daughter.

Luckily, Lord Wolfgang, duke of Herzbruch, had been easily persuaded by the might of the steelwalkers, once he saw them approach the capital walls. He was a reasonable Lord, who had put the lives of his men above his pride in the end. Arved had suggested letting him bend the knee rather than banishing him to exile. Not ending his generosity there, Jason even had promised him a place on his council as governor of Herzbruch, as apologies for the slight on his daughter.

The men, whose lives had been spared that day, were now part of this very army. They would be blessed with a compassionate and brave new king: King Jason, The Tamer of Steelwalkers, The Lightning, coal with a golden heart. Until now he had a good track record of keeping his word, so there should be outwardly no reason why anyone should refuse what offer he might give. At least anyone, who had the land's best interest in mind.

So why? Arved wondered. Why am I not being sent a report?

Arved tucked his light stone away and headed back towards his tent. Something wasn’t right.

The guards greeted him with a bow. Arved ordered them, “Gather the commanders in the main command tent, swiftly.”

“Your Order!” they affirmed and moved to do good on his word.

Arved went inside his tent and opened the oak chest with his various tools. He retrieved the clock that Sophon gave him and found his estimation of time to be correct. He couldn’t be proud of it, as it also confirmed his worries.

He left and moved towards the main command tent. Three of the four commanders were already gathered in front. “General! We’re at your service!” one of them greeted him.

“Let’s head inside!” Arved urged. He saw Commander Sebastian appear from the darkness as they moved to enter the tent. He didn’t waste any time and turned to immediately address the four commanders. “As you all might already know, the last status report is over half an hour overdue,” he began. “Obviously, this is not a good sign. Prepare the army for heading towards Windschild as our destination.”

“Are we sure about this?” Sebastian questioned. “What if negotiations will be swayed by our threatening appearance, or worse, they’ll be provoked into attacking us?”

He was right, but… “Waiting any longer will risk the lives of Lord Jason and his fellow men,” Arved argued. ”We have no choice, but commit to the lesser of two evils.”

Sebastian gulped with disapproval. “Your Order!” he affirmed with a bow anyway. The other commanders did the same.

But just when they turned around to follow their orders, they all got startled by the sudden drone that drowned out the gentle wind.

Arved knew this sound! “The steelwalkers?!” he exclaimed. “They have awakened?!” He quickly moved past the commanders outside in order to get a better glimpse, and indeed he could see the red blinking lights in the black night, where the steelwalkers were located.

Arved quickly pulled his light stone out and tapped with his fingers onto it. Still no message… Why should Sophon awaken the steelwalkers without any warning? And by the sound of it all of them: The elephants, the lions, the ostriches… Did something happen to him? he wondered.

The drone of the steelwalkers was now accompanied by the ever increasing shouting of lieutenants and captains ordering soldiers. The entire army got restless in an instant.

“Commander!” they heard someone shout and the man holding a torch approached the main command tent. “General!” he bent the knee upon recognizing Arved. “I’m Captain Dietert from the third brigade!” he identified himself. ”The division of steelwalkers has gone rogue!” he despaired. “They started destroying tents and several soldiers were injured!”

“What?!” Arved outraged. This can’t be Sophons doing… “Keep your distance! Don’t pick a fight with them!” he ordered. He turned to the commanders, who were all frozen in place. “You heard me! Defensive stands! Move!” And they moved to reestablish the chain of command.

“Come with me!” he heard Sebastian order Dietert. And they headed towards the red lights.

Arved followed them. He had to see what was happening first hand. They marched towards the droning sound; towards the shouting of men and stomping of giant silver feet, the rhythm with which didn’t elude him. Were they marching?

Once he arrived at the steelwalkers’ former resting site, he could see the trail of destruction they left behind, and indeed, when he followed he saw them as organised as all time. The elephants with their rectangular bodies in the front, stomping a clear path for the slender ostriches to follow, while the lions were encircling them, threatening off with razor sharp blades anyone who dared to even gaze their way. All clad in their distinctive eerie red light in this blackest of monthly nights.

Arved saw a line of soldiers steadily follow them on the sidelines, walking sideways along with the steelwalkers. “Keep your distance!” he heard a lieutenant echo his order.

The steelwalkers' formation was heading towards the north, they were not fighting the soldiers… they were leaving! And a couple of tents of the third brigade had just happened to be in their way, by the looks of it about six or five… Thank God not more! Arved thought. “Let them be and get out of their way!” Arved shouted orders. “Focus on retrieving the injured!”

Commander Sebastian and Captain Dietert echoed his orders, so did the nearest captain and lieutenants. As the chain of command passed through, the squads of soldiers slowly aborted their pursuit of the steelwalkers one after the other, warily.

Arved followed the steelwalkers just outside the encampment and watched them shrink in his sight as they slowly disappeared in the darkness, until their lights were nothing but the likeness of red fireflies in the night. It seemed like the steelwalkers were commanded by an intelligence, so much he could read from their formation, but that intelligence had little regard for their cause.

The only ones, whom he ever heard of, who could command steelwalkers were the gods Sophia and Hal in mythology and of course Sophon, who was a steelwalker himself. But Arved didn’t believe in the fake gods, neither did Sophon. Perhaps these specific steelwalkers had simply forged a bond and learned to stick together in these last five months.

“General? What should we do?” Sebastian requested. “Should we follow them?” he asked.

“Follow the steelwalkers?!” Dietert inquired, horrified. “With all due respect, Commander, don’t you know the old saying?”

“What old saying?” Sebastian turned his head and asked him.

“‘Do never tread a steelwalkers path…’” Arved answered in Dietert’s place. “‘...reserved for seekers of the gods’ wrath!’” He turned around, heading back the way they came. “Forget them! We’re heading south!”

Sebastian and Dietert followed him. Sebastian tried to ask, “Are we going to invade-...”

“General!” two commanders approached them, one holding a torch. They bowed respectfully. “Reporting: …” one of them spoke. “...about 27 soldiers were injured, 19 lightly, eight severely. No casualties.”

Arved just nodded. “Prepare the army to head towards Windschild!” he ordered.

“Reporting: the second brigade is already prepared, general!” one of them spoke. “Fourth brigade is also prepared, general!” the other spoke.

Arved regarded Sebastian. “Prepare the third brigade, commander!” he ordered. “And devise a platoon apt in medical care to stay behind and mend the injured.”

Sebastian affirmed with a bow and he and Dietert split hastily from the rest.

“General…” Schmidt, commander of the second brigade, spoke. “I was wondering, what will happen to our cargo?”

Arved shook his head. “Putting down camp would take too much time! We wasted enough already!” he reasoned. “And the elephants were carrying it anyway.”

Holding another torch Kramer, commander of the first brigade, approached them with a creeping grin on his face. “Mighty general,” he nodded. “The first brigade is ready!” he promised.

“Good…” Arved spoke faintly. He rubbed his left eye, sighed and started brooding.

He was almost sure now. Things didn’t go as planned. The steelwalkers were for some reason no longer in Sophon’s control. Arved pulled his light stone out one last time to desperately refute it, but the result was the same: no message. All signs were leading towards failed negotiations, and Lord Jason and his fellow men were probably taken hostage… or worse…

If that’s the case… he shall show no mercy!

After a while Commander Sebastian returned. “The third brigade is now ready, general!” he stated.

“Finally! Took you long enough!” Arved berated him. He turned towards the south, an army of 1109 men behind him.

Arved pulled his sword from its sheath, it was of the same self-healing blade the lions were equipped with, The Lion's Fang, with a golden shaft crested with a red ruby. The Silver General trusted this might upon him.

“Stand!” he ordered. And the commanders reiterated for the captains and the captains reiterated for the lieutenants and the lieutenants reiterated for the soldiers. A giant wave coursing through the whole mass of flesh and metal.

They shall dread meaning to mess with The Golden General!

“March!” he ordered and pointed with his sword towards Windschild.

And he started marching ahead to lead for the whole army to follow.

If his estimation was correct they should reach Windschild in about two hours. The peninsula was mostly flat land, but if the winds were as strong and depressing as he had heard, it might take longer. Even now with the gentle breeze, he could feel the resistance already slowing them down and it would only worsen as they progressed.

The wind was against them, their enemies surely had home advantage, but they also were quite outnumbered. This might even be over before it begins.

But if the enemy should in desperation attempt to blackmail them with threat of injury on Lord Jason’s person, then so be it. A king shall suffer for his people. The new kingdom: his martyrium!

JOSIANE

Five hundred steely beasts, harder than rock, cold as ice.

They ran away, when I rose to face them, like red fireflies.

Five hundred women shall be widowed tonight.

Maybe even more, all through my arrows’ might.

Nothing escapes this white dragon’s eyes.

Not even in the blackest of nights.

No heart too far for me to pierce.

No metal stands my arrows fierce.

I am Death! Death is I!

Fear me! Beg me! And cry!

I am your new Goddess now!

You shall bow before me! Bow!

ARVED

“An Attack!” one of the soldiers shouted. And the second brigade immediately halted.

Arved noticed the disruption in the marching’s rhythm and understood it for what it was, before the nearest captain could even shout a warning of arrows, he ordered: “Defensive stand! Halt!” And the army halted, as the order was passed on. His personal guards moved in front of him.

They must be using projectiles, he would have been the first to feel a frontal breach. And Arved knew the legends of this fabled town. “Raise your shields!” he shouted and raised his own. “March! And cover!” And the entire army followed his example: shielding his face and heart behind a shield, and marching while slightly crouching.

The armour they used for each soldier was ordinary thin steel plates, light but sufficient enough for arrows only to inflict superficial wounds at best. Their helmets didn’t cover their faces, but that’s what the shields were for. The enemy archers couldn’t really hope to stop or deter them in any way. And they will gain on them surely enough, even if they were to cast arrows whilst retreating.

Arved looked in the darkness in front of him. The grassfield was flat and any light source would be spotted from a vast distance. The enemy had the foresight to extinguish their lights early on, probably through the insight of a scout.

Arved heard Schmidt slowly approaching. “General!” he hoarsely addressed him. “Reporting: there’s a casualty!”

Arved’s eyes widened. “What? How?” he demanded clarification, whilst keeping his attention in front of him.

“An arrow hit a soldier in his cardiac artery!” he reported. “He died immediately!” Schmidt clarified.

“An arrow?” Arved questioned “It pierced through his armour?” he couldn’t entirely believe it.

“Yes!” Schmidt confirmed.

It must have been a ballista then, rather than an archer. Otherwise it couldn’t have had enough momentum to puncture steel, let alone piercing the poor man’s rib cage in addition.

“What was the arrow’s calibre?” Arved asked to confirm.

“I’m not sure…” Schmidt answered.

“Dismissed!” he put Schmidt back into formation.

A ballista might be occasionally lethal enough and with a greater range, but also horribly immobile and notoriously inaccurate, easily overtaken and dismantled should they encounter one. And unless they had stationed a hundred of them on their specific path, and with each one hitting at least on average more than seven soldiers, they couldn’t possibly hope to sufficiently decimate their numbers, only discourage them at best. Highly unlikely.

Nevertheless, it was severe bad luck that the first hit was straight to the heart, but still no wonder. They were tightly packed in rows… time to change that!

“New formation: spread!” Arved shouted. And as the order was passed on, the army slowly expanded the area it was covering vastly. And with each soldier now having five feet between them, there was plenty of room for a ballista to miss. In fact, the odds of a ballista hitting an individual had decreased dramatically. Especially, when it came to a targeted shot on Arved or any of the commanders, taking the strong wind with its turbulence into account.

He lifted and turned his head to catch sight of the Stars of Hal. Feeling like roughly an hour and 45 minutes left until they should reach Windschild, albeit only without a stronger wind against them. The sudden gust of which called for his attention forward.

Another disruption in the marching’s rhythm. “Soldier down!” he heard someone shout close behind him.

Again already? Arved fretted. “Attend!” he ordered to summon the four commanders, more out of an unnamable impulse that yearned for immediate clarification.

Sebastian was the first to arrive. “General!” he addressed Arved. “A soldier of the third brigade was hit in the chest! He collapsed immediately!” he reported.

“What?! He’s dead?!” Arved asked.

“Presumably!” Sebastian guessed. “But there was no volley fire! It’s odd!” he expressed their shared confusion.

Saying that it was odd was a severe understatement. But could it still simply be a fluke? A lucky streak for the enemy? Was a large multiplicity of ballistas in play? Two soldiers were hit with critical lethality… in the heart… No matter if ballistas or archers, there bound to be missed shots as well. Where was the frequency of projectiles justifying these odds?

Schmidt, whose position in the army was as close as Sebastian’s, appeared. “General, reporting: no casualties, since the last report,” Schmidt spoke.

“How many shots did the enemy miss?” Arved had to ask.

“I’m… not sure… none were reported,” Schmidt said.

“Tell the captains, the count of the shots, missed or not, is paramount to report. Both of you,” he passed the order onto Schmidt and Sebastian.

“Your Order!” they affirmed and left with their instructions, right when Lipov, commander of the fourth brigade, attended.

“Nothing to report, general,” Lipov monotoned and awaited an order.

Lastly, Kramer attended as well. “Mighty general…” Kramer began. “...I’m afraid I have to report a casualty!”

Arved had to briefly shut his eyes. He slowly inhaled and exhaled a sigh. “How did he die, commander?” he faintly asked. He dreaded the answer.

“With an arrow to his heart, general!” Kramer described.

And Arved’s breath was stuck in his lungs, and he couldn’t release it except with effort. The cold wind licked the sweat on his brow and he noticed how much stronger the wind had gotten during the last four minutes.

During the last four minutes three armoured soldiers died from nothing but mere lonely arrows.

“But there are no other soldiers injured, general!” Kramer said as if that was a solely good thing.

That made it worse!

Other injuries would at least imply that they couldn’t magically pierce the goddamn heart… all the time! That their precision knew limits! But this wasn’t a fluke! Something wicked was going on!

“The immediate report of all enemy shots, missed or not, is now paramount!” Arved reiterated for Lipov and Kramer. “Annotate the ranks of the casualties when you-...”

It was accompanied by a sudden onslaught of wind and sounded like the loud crack of a whip, and the guard was pushed flat on the ground by its might. It pierced his armour and his ribcage… Arved stared at it, stared at the now lifeless body of this man, his personal guard, who had just walked alongside with him, whom he knew… Maximilian was his name. His features were pronounced in the dim light of the torches. He knelt beside him and took his lifeless body in his arms.

Four… The number mocked him.

“General! General, please!” Sebastian shook Arved with a hand and awoke him from his still state. Arved looked at him, like he couldn’t recognise him at first. He couldn’t tell how long he had knelt frozen in place.

He looked around to see the commanders gathered around him, the entire army having halted with them. Arved snapped.

“What are you doing?!” he yelled. “You do not halt! No matter what happens! Even If I lie dead, face on the ground! You do NOT… halt! You KEEP… marching!” he loudly punctuated and stood up.

Arved grabbed his sword and started running against the wind, leaving the light of the torches. Leaving his shield behind, no use in shielding himself from what he saw first hand!

He was fed up! They wanted war?! They will get war! And he kept running until…

Calm down, the voice in his head, that sounded a lot like Emily, softly spoke. And Arved slowed down until he stood still, and let his subordinates gain on him. His personal guards moved in front and raised their shields… uselessly…

“General?!” Sebastian worried. “Is everything alright?” he asked him and handed over his shield, which he had left behind.

“It’s fine!” Arved asserted. “Should an arrow hit me, you’ll be acting general, Commander Sebastian!” he determined. Sebastian mutely widened his eyes in astonishment. Kramer, who was of the ambitious sort, slanted his eyes, envious. Arved turned to the commanders. “New Order: Lower your shields and march fast and straight!” Arved pronounced.

Kramer wanted to inquire: “General, is that really-...”

“Do as I say!” Arved harshly cut him off and turned to confront the wind. He started marching.

There was no use for a shield against these demonic arrows, he saw that now. But four casualties in four minutes was still a pathetically slow rate. That made 120 casualties in two hours. A thousand men would still be at their doors. Two hours may be enough to eradicate all 85 ranking officials, including Arved, but the army would stay intact and could figure things out on their own.

The stars moved ever so slightly and the onslaught of wind seemed to grow only fiercer. Only about five minutes had passed, when Schmidt came with the next report. “General…” he began. “...three casualties, all soldiers!” he reported.

Sebastian came next. “There have been three casualties among the soldiers, my general!” he reported as well.

Then Kramer: “Mighty general… this time around I must sadly report two casualties! Both were soldiers!”

Lipov appeared. “Four soldiers were lethally pierced by nothing but arrows, general,” he monotoned.

What was going on? In what felt like five minutes the rate of the casualties more than doubled. Twelve additional soldiers died!

Arved heard again the reminiscence of a whip cracking behind him even through the loud wind, which meant the last strike was close. 13… he reassessed.

Arved thought the precision of the archers must come at a price, at the slow rate they were only capable to fire with. Was there a multiplicity of archers now? And, most importantly, where were they? The alignment of the arrow that killed Maximilian was an indicator of them being in front, so they should have met them by now. How could they fire whilst retrieving? Were these sorcerers on a carriage pulled by mounts?

Only one way to find out! Arved raised his sword. “Charge!” he yelled and started running. The entire army started to follow his example. One row after the other they started to run against the harsh wind, whilst shouting and yelling.

This way, should they not be mounted, the archers had little time to span their bows, and they would catch up on them surely.

The army charged and charged for another five minutes, but Arved was bracing himself for an impact that never came. No archer was unveiled from the darkness. Only question remained, whether this reduced the rate of casualties.

“Slow down!” he yelled the order and let himself fall back. The momentum of some soldiers propelled them in front of him. He shouldn’t exhaust the armoured men that much. Albeit of the light kind, their armour was still heavy. The army slowly decelerated to their previous velocity. Arved could not possibly hope to get a report while everyone was charging and he was eagerly awaiting it.

Sebastian reported first. “General! There have been three soldiers missing, presumably casualties!”

After him came Schmidt. “General, our count revealed a shortage of four soldiers!”

Lipov reported: ”This time around we have five casualties of soldiers, general!”

And Kramer: “Mighty general, three soldiers were killed and two went missing in all likelihood dead as well!”

They reported and resumed their positions.

17… In the midst of darkness… moving targets… strong winds… all while likely on jumping mounted carriagers… no volley fire… no missed shots… Demonic! Arved could only think. Where are they?! Arved despaired. Where?!

Arved took a deep breath. Calm down…

Taking everything into account, it wouldn’t be far-fetched at this point to assume that they somehow could designate the arrows paths even after casting them. Demonic… But that would also mean that the initial angle wouldn’t matter… therefore… their possible location could actually be all around them…

“Attend!” he summoned the four commanders, who took a whole half a minute to attend in their complete numbers. And Arved felt every second pass quite vividly now. “Report!” he demanded, he had to shout from the loud wind.

“Two casualties were reported in the third brigade, again soldiers!” Sebastian began, he had to shout as well. “But General… there is another issue…” Sebastian continued. “The strong winds have their toll on our torches! We already had a hard time reigniting a bunch of them!”

Arved looked up to the torch one of his personal guards held and saw it flickering violently, at the edges of death… they all were.

Wait… that’s it! Arved fancied. “Alright listen…” Arved shouted over the wind. “New order: Kill all torches!” He felt rather than saw the commanders furrow their brows at this. But their enemies hid in the darkness… two can play that game!

“General, are we sure about this?” Kramer fretted. “Being in the dark will make us clumsy and slow us down in more than one way!” He said, as if Arved didn’t know that.

How about you shut your fucking mouth for once? Arved wanted to say. “Trust me!” he shouted instead. “Also, be advised! The enemy might be all around us,“ he added. “Dismissed!”

And the command was passed on. And the lights went out. And a wave of darkness expanded over the army. Arved met the stare of his personal guard who held the torch and the man understood.

Darkness. An ocean of bright stars in the sky. A perfectly flat horizon. Howling wind, all-encompassing. Arved felt his heart beat in his chest. Did it work? The question, remained to be answered, tortured him.

This time the newest report took 15 minutes, no wonder… communication through signs and flags was no longer possible in total darkness and auditory commands short ranged through the loud wind.

“General!” he heard Schmidt’s voice yell behind him.

“Here!“ one of Arved’s guards yelled back to help him orient.

“General! Things are not well!” he despaired “Several captains have just reported now, that whole platoons were decimated, with only their lieutenants alive!”

“What?!” Arved was shocked and panic coursed through his entire body.

“The number of casualties is over 30 in the second brigade alone since last report!” Schmidt pronounced.

Calm down! Arved had to compose himself. Schmidt almost gave him a heart attack with his initial description. It was probably just a concentrated attack.

“General?” Commander Sebastian called out.

“Here!” the guard answered.

“General!” Sebastian spoke. “A lieutenant found his entire platoon slowly decimated in the last half an hour,” he elaborated. “Otherwise the casualties in the third brigade appear to be evenly spread. But there is an influx of them in the last 15 minutes, at least 20!”

So putting off the torches not only didn’t work, but the rate of the killings even increased more. Killing the lights was a terrible idea, slowing them down! But they couldn’t possibly reignite the torches now, not in this harsh wind. Also individual platoons were now targeted, but why were the lieutenants of each kept alive?

“We have a hard time keeping count in the dark, general…” Lipov started off, his voice uniform as ever even as he shouted. “From what I’ve heard the casualties since last report are above 20, all of them soldiers.”

“Mighty general… I quote one of the captains when I say, ‘it is as if the wind itself whips the soldiers’ breaths away!’” Kramer said, his meandering was not a little infuriating. “I’m afraid, since the last report there have been more than 30 casualties!”

So more than 100 casualties in 15 minutes.... and all of them were soldiers? Why only soldiers? Why not the general or any of the commanders? Why not kill the captains or lieutenants? Wouldn’t it make more sense to cut off the head and intelligence of the army and leave it crumble under lack of directions? Except… except for when it wouldn’t matter in the end; it wouldn’t matter where they would start. It wouldn't matter to cut leaves or roots, the tree would be dead in the end regardless.

In the eyes of their enemy, defeat was for them already most assured, their fate sealed the very moment the first arrow struck, they already had lost! So why not indulge oneself in the slow and methodical killing? Why not make this lousy worm of a general suffer? Why not make him realise exactly what he had gotten himself into, when we could kill him in little more than eight seconds?

You are beneath my notice… Arved could hear the enemy mock him, and he had to grit his teeth in rage. Enough is enough!

“ATTEND!” he loudly yelled to summon the commanders, more out of anger than practicality, the loud wind was stifling his voice. He imagined hearing another whip cracking behind him, he couldn’t be entirely sure.

By the time the last of the commanders, Kramer, arrived 90 seconds had passed, at least eleven additional soldiers had died. “Way to take your sweet time, Kramer!” Arved berated him. “Listen carefully! This might very well be my last command…” Arved began, the wind trying its best to mute him. “We will trade communication and order for mandatory velocity! We have no choice if we ever hope to outpace the enemy!” he explained. “Therefore, prepare the army to charge for the next hour and a half! The orders are: break formation, charge head first until you meet and destroy the enemy!” Arved asserted. “Understood?” he asked.

“Your Order!” they shouted affirmation in unison. To his surprise none of the commanders objected to his order, not even Kramer. They understood the dire situation and the desperate measures.

Some soldiers were faster than others with more stamina, which meant their formation would become more than fractured and the army would split up. And in the darkness soldiers would inevitably be venturing ahead alone, each of them would be an easy dish for the Windschild soldiers. But any small bruise or wound inflicted upon the enemy was better than dying like the calf to the slaughter.

This was The Golden General’s last measure. After this only God could help them out. He knew he was marching onto his death. I’m so sorry, Emily! He wished he could have embraced her one last time. Arved turned his head in sorrow to see the perfect line of the horizon interrupted by the smooth bumpy shadow of a lonely hill against the dark blue sky, with stars slowly setting behind it.

He lifted his sword and ordered his last order: “Charge!”

JASON

The sun’s rays were shining through the small window. The wind was howling outside, its familiarity would have been nostalgic in any other circumstance. Jason’s abrupt way of awakening told him that he hadn't slept at all. He had held Sophon’s light stone tightly in his grip the whole night. Once he saw the bright speck of light on the ground he became animate immediately. He stood up from where he sat, his joints protesting after becoming stiff from hours of sitting in the same place. He placed the black rectangular plate into the illuminated spot and waited.

He stood up to observe the others still sleeping. He had to painfully exclaim at stretching his back. The hard ground and walls were most surely not comfortable to sit on, lie on or lean against. He let Nils and Elias take the remaining bed… he didn’t deserve a comfortable, warm bed…

Because of his lack of judgement Sophon was now dead! It was his fault! Why should someone else suffer in his place?

He taught him so much; taught him about the secrets of the cosmos, the right-handed-magic; taught him the just laws of God and gave him hope and confidence in himself. In a whole year he was more of a father to him than his own father by blood was for his whole life!

And he had told him that he had become over 210 years old! 210 years… 210 years were now simply gone! Nothing left! And it was all his fault… It was all his fault!

Damn it! Jason buried his face in his hands and inevitably started sobbing. He desperately tried to hold it in, but to no avail… the tears wouldn’t stop flowing.

Weak… he heard her voice berate him. And sadness made way for anger, when he suddenly had to swing his fists beside him and grunted with deep frustration. Why?! Rage made him bend his back and he shut his eyes as the tears flew uninvited.

When he opened his eyes again he saw the light stone on the ground, a bright glimmer reflecting on its black surface, and maybe it had seen enough light now to work its magic.

He picked it up from the ground and swept his fingers over its smooth surface…

And white letters appeared… the first which he read were:

Do not call the ones dying on God’s path dead!

They are very much alive, but you wouldn’t understand!