The next few days were…. Strange.
Shortly after the walls of Theronhold were breached, a strange sight was seen. The winning force, ready to make the final push against its invaders, suddenly retreated before, and not much later, the surrender notice was pushed out.
One would think that even with their walls breached, they would have continued to fight on, crushing their enemy before they could ever hope to take advantage of such an outcome. Strange as I found it, this situation was explained to me the day after. Gathered in a fancy-looking tent directly between the city and our camp, Dirk, Danai, and I found ourselves seated across from two men who stood flanking an exhausted-looking woman, bags under her eyes as she splayed her fingers.
“I’ll be frank with you.” The woman began. She was the Viceroy of the North’s daughter and carried the weight of her father’s words while he was out of the city. “We aren’t surrendering to you.” She waved in our general direction. “We’re surrendering to him.” She then pointed directly at me.
“Semantics, is it not?” Dirk questioned, his face devoid of any tells.
“Perhaps.” The woman shrugged. “But it is important you understand such semantics if you are to do what I suppose you are about to do, which I assume is to remain stationed in our city with far fewer forces than we have, forces that I should mention were on the verge of crushing your own.”
Dirk was silent, his lack of response a response in itself.
“I’m no idiot; I’ve studied these things for long enough, been involved in politics for long enough, to understand the goal and game at play. You needed the North subdued, our ports a constant threat of transport for troops southward, and the fact that the Northern Pass is the only direct route into the central lands. I also understand that the conflict is primarily between Viceroy Alexandria, the Crown, and Nochesuki, who supports Viceroy Alexandria. We in the North did our due diligence as citizens of the Crown and heard the call. The reality is that we truly care little for the ongoings in the South; the North is largely separated from the events of the rest of the country, and we have enough challenges of our own. I won’t pretend we cared much for the Crown’s disdain for magic, nor will I pretend it is some great moral dilemma we’ve longed to reverse.”
“We can understand as much,” Danai spoke up.
“Good, then let me get back to my actual point. Aside from our loyalty to our duties, this conflict matters little to us. That changed when that monster-” She paused, taking a moment to glance in my direction. “-inflicted a wound that has never once been suffered in our history, hundreds of years of conflicts, armies attempting to take our city, and not once has our wall been breached. We believe in our duty and our loyalty, but we will only seek to honor that within a realm of mortals.”
Her words sent a chill down my spine. While I’d been empowered with the strength of the unknown blade, I’d casually killed hundreds and struck through a wall that had never faltered. It was, undeniably, an image that ordinary humans couldn’t conceive, something only monsters from legends should be capable of.
“One thousand and eighty-three. That’s how many he killed in seconds of appearing on the battlefield.” The Viceroy’s daughter wasn’t finished. “That’s why I said we’re surrendering to him, not your organization. Your force will likely occupy Theronhold as a token show of strength, but understand that the leaders of Theronhold realize the true threat isn’t your regular soldiers, even if many of them are capable of trivial magic. Even if we were to suppose that what he did took large amounts of preparation or had a long cooldown period, could you blame us for being unwilling to risk being wrong?”
She took a moment to pause, glancing at one of the men flanking her, giving him a moment to cough and take the lead.
“We also appreciate that you brought many of the men and women sent to ambush any of your forces traveling North back with you and specifically chose not to kill them, a solution none would have accused you of not being better off doing. It is for that reason that we are even able to have this conversation. A show of goodwill on your part has many believing that should we surrender, things can proceed peacefully.”
Dirk nodded, leaning forward as he did.
“Our terms are simple then,” Dirk said. “You are our brothers to the North, not our enemies. While yes, you correctly assumed the intention to leave troops occupying the city, they will not be here as invaders but as aid. To further show our goodwill, they will assist with any public projects so long as it does not needlessly endanger them. In return, northern ports may continue their standard operations under one caveat: no aid shall be sent to the Crown forces.”
“You understand the game well.” The Viceroy’s daughter sighed. “Those are terms we must agree to, for such agreeable terms sound almost like you were the surrendering force.”
Her pointed expression made the implication behind her words clear: had it not been for my actions, that’s precisely what we’d be representing at the negation table.
“I will have an announcement decreeing that you and your forces are to be treated fairly and that as long as no violence or such is performed on either side, business and life will continue as usual in the North. Am I to understand that any acts of violence or such by your soldiers may be prosecuted as standard?”
“I would ask that you treat them even harsher than standard,” Dirk said with a slight frown. “They must understand, both our troops and your citizens, that we are serious about seeking harmony.”
“Good, then unless something occurs, we will meet again in a week. My father will be back from his most recent outing by then. Really, your timing couldn’t have been worse, leaving this all to me to deal with.”
The woman sagged slightly; days of tense nerves displayed across her face.
Not that I couldn’t understand some of it.
-------------------------------------------------
Our camp quickly depleted over the following few days, and our troops moved into the city. Dirk, Danai, Garus, Alice, and I were the last to be seen in camp, the final remnants. Notably, two figures were no longer with us.
Because they were instead laid out before us.
“Ilya Vaash,” Dirk announced, his face tight, holding any emotion from ever reaching his eyes. “First Lieutenant of the Eight Platoon. Some would have called her my right hand at times. Your service has been fulfilled honorably.”
I hadn’t even realized what had happened following the events upon the hill, where I’d managed to draw upon the grand theoretical power of Rainsplitter. I knew what I’d asked of them had been asking a lot, but I hadn’t honestly expected it to end the way it had for her.
When I drew the power out, a backlash ripped through everyone helping me. It shouldn’t have been possible to have killed anybody, but that was also my estimate before I’d risked directly reaching out through the rift.
And thus, Ilya had died, and it was effectively my fault. I may as well have put a knife through her heart.
But she wasn’t the only casualty.
“Rorak Gilead. Lance Corporal.” Garus spoke, his words short and to the point yet somehow conveying an aching sadness. “You died saving my ass. Thanks.”
I’d heard the story shortly after the surrender when the dead had been collected from the battlefield. Garus and several of his men had been cut off, so Rorak had rode out to save them. He’d succeeded, but the man had slipped in what felt like a cruel twist of fate in the pullback effort. He hadn’t fallen, just a quick little slip, like one might do when stepping on wet flooring and briefly losing their balance.
And that single, quick little slip jerked his head forward so that an arrow that would have missed him narrowly tore straight through his neck.
It was painful to look down at the deceased man; only days prior, he’d been offering me words of belief and encouragement.
And now he was dead. Not from falling in a duel against an opposing general or valiantly holding the line in some desperate final defense of his fellow retreating soldiers. No, he’d barely slipped, and now he was dead.
It was a bleak reminder that sometimes death came quickly and abruptly, with no greater meaning, no grand vision, just stupid chance.
And the worst part? I couldn’t even blame myself. From what I had heard of the timeline, it had happened the day before I’d succeeded with Rainsplitter; no amount of rushing on my part would have saved him. There was no chance I would have ever managed to be fast enough to end the battle before his untimely demise.
It had been something strictly outside my power to control.
Damnit.
I wanted to feel something more, but all I felt was a gnawing irritation at myself, at my failure. As if I couldn’t even allow myself to feel sadness, my shortcomings not allowing for it.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
Damnit.
The bodies were quickly zipped up inside specialty preservation bags meant for officers or other higher-ranking individuals. There were too many dead to bring them all back home in such body bags, but the likes of Ilya and Rorak warranted their use. From what I knew, they’d be safely stored until we could travel back south.
Which brought me to my next issue.
“You’re staying behind?” I stared at Dirk, unsure if I was understanding him correctly.
“Correct. The original intent was for several commanding members to travel with you, but we suffered greater losses than we could comfortably leave behind; we need figures around to remind Theronhold to watch themselves. They spoke well of their intent, but one can never be too certain, and this is a war we’re talking about; we can’t afford a mistake. Besides, you won’t be truly alone.”
“Meaning?” I questioned.
“Meaning I’ll be going with you.” Alice had entered the tent where I was exchanging words with Dirk. “It would have likely been Rorak to travel to Akadia with you; he never was good for this type of stuff, but well…” Her words drowned out in silence before she shook her head. “You need a sailor with you, so that leaves me. We will leave tomorrow and travel east to Hemloq Port. We’ll board a ship south along the coast and head toward Akadia.”
I was reminded of our briefing, what felt like years ago, as the Stars of Nochesuki laid out our plans. Now that we had effectively secured the North, our longshot plan succeeding, the next effort would be Akadia, my former home situated almost perfectly on the board between the central deserts and the southern capital, making it a prime location for either side to control. As of now, or from what I’d last heard, it was still held by the Viceroy of the central deserts, Viceroy Alexandria. While the city still belonged to us, it needed to stay that way, something my presence would look to ensure.
“Now, technically, our plans only ever went this far,” Dirk said, leaning back in his chair, the silent camp undercutting his words. “But the same can’t be said for the entirety of the war. We struck a decisive blow in preventing the North from splitting our focus, but there is still an entire rest of the war to fight. Once you reach Akadia, you’ll assist how you can. Using my intuition, I can assume you’ll find yourself with new orders shortly after. Unlike in the North, messages can travel far quicker to and from Akadia.”
“Then?” I questioned.
“I can’t say, not because I’m not allowed to, but because I don’t know,” Dirk said with a sigh. “In the end, I’m neither Viceroy Alexandria nor one of the Stars. They’re the ones calling the shots, not me. If I had to warrant a guess based on historical examples of wars and battles waged, they’ll probably have you assist in tightening control over Akadia, striking a decisive blow against any assault forces before moving you next to aid in ground battles near the border. While the Crown couldn’t march mass amounts of troops through the central region's desert, the same can’t be said for forces we’ve already had stationed southward and closer to the border. Moving with those troops, you’ll likely push further south until we can take the Songhold.”
“And then the war is over.”
“That’s the hope,” Alice spoke up, earning her an arched eyebrow from Dirk.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to steal your moment.” She snorted.
I appreciated the moment of levity, a single moment unattached to the reality of war and the death and pain it brings.
Don’t waver. A voice inside of me chided. Remember the fallen.
Images flashed through my mind of their own accord: dead children who had their futures ripped away. My resolve was once more galvanized as I looked between Alice and Dirk.
“Is there a reason we need to head out tomorrow specifically?” I questioned.
“Waiting on a guide, mostly,” Dirk answered.
“No need,” I interjected. “I can get us there. After all, I’m from here.” I cast a sideways glance at Alice, banishing the last remaining memory of children long gone. “We can leave tonight.”
Preparations for our departure were relatively sparse. We received no heroes' send-off, no celebration, nothing—just some packs filled with supplies and two horses. Turning toward me, Alice crossed her arms before scanning the horizon, which the sun would soon disappear behind.
“Is traveling so close to dark wise?”
“It’s not a problem,” I answered. “Few magical beasts or monsters up here will likely be a problem. Dire Bears are big bastards, but they’re rare and few between. A pack of Shadow Manes is annoying, but again, not a problem for us.”
“You don’t think Imako would be annoyed?” She asked ruefully.
“Hah, I doubt he cares much about some largely mindless magical beast,” I said. “Not like he asks us how we feel any time he kills a human.”
“Fair. So, anything else we should go over?”
“Not much. It will be a few days to the coast from here on horseback. We get there, get a ship south, arrive in Akadia a week later, and do whatever we need to do.”
She must have noticed my expression, her brow softening as she frowned at me.
“You shouldn’t hold it all in so tightly. You’re not much older than many of the kids out there fighting.”
“And you are?” I chuckled, half avoiding her point.
“Thirty-two.” She snorted. “I’ve still got enough years on you that you should treat me with respect.”
I snorted, unable to laugh it off, but at the very least, able to ease some of the tension from my shoulders.
Just another face for the memories.
It wasn’t just the kids I’d once taught who haunted me the moment my eyes closed; now I saw Rorak’s face there, eyes hollow of life.
She was correct; I knew that logically holding onto all the bitter memories, all that pain and guilt would only poison my mind, corroding every warm moment into corrosive self-hatred.
And yet, I couldn’t avoid it. I’d never been all that great at dealing with my darker emotions; I knew that hell, I’d even killed someone on reflex because of a moment of weakness. Was she deserving of death? Probably, in truth, but it didn’t change that what I’d done had been murder, pure and simple.
I sighed, shaking my head. I would have to make do with moments of forgetful reprieve, of lighthearted banter. To move on… it wasn’t in the cards for me, not any time soon.
“So… after you?” Alice prompted, disturbing my downward-spiraling thoughts.
“Right, yeah.” I rubbed the back of my neck, gently prodding my horse toward our destination. If you want, you can get some shuteye. I know it might have been a bit much having us leave today, but I just wanted to go as soon as possible.”
“It’s fine, you don’t need to explain yourself.” Alice yawned, slumping over. “Well, I suppose I’ll take you up on your offer. Wake me up if any cave-sized bears try to eat us.”
She had fallen asleep in moments, a gentle snore escaping her, a moment of astonishment briefly freeing my thoughts.
I’ll never understand a sailor's ability to fall asleep on command.
Moment passing, my horse began a steady trot forward, Alice’s hose following dutifully as I could only watch the sun on the horizon drawing closer and closer to night.
Onwards to more death.
------------------------------
Hemloq Port was a relatively minor port city. Partially because the North didn’t have many ships coming or going. For the people of the central region, it was a frozen tundra, a harsh and cold climate that desert dwellers weren’t made for. As for those of the Southern region, where the bulk of civilians and commercial life was, there wasn’t much reason to travel to the North if you didn’t have a specific reason. The relatively isolated nature of the North had been our reason for our success; they didn’t care much who won or lost this war; they’d only been going as far as their sworn loyalty.
That and I’d struck at their ancestral pride and memories of their undefeated walls.
All of this was to say when we finally arrived in Hemloq Port eight days later -we’d sidetracked due to the presence of some territorial Dire Bears that I didn’t feel like killing just to hasten our journey- we were greeted by a rather quaint city, no more than maybe six or seven thousand at the max who would call it home.
“What’s with all those?” Alice pointed toward spires dotting the view, blades rotating along them.
“Wind turbines,” I answered. “The Northern coasts are subject to some pretty powerful winds. Some are purely mechanical. They directly turn things like grindstones or whatnot, whereas others produce electricity; they turn around rotors. Don’t ask me how they figured that all out; I’m not the one who figured it out. I’m surprised, though, you’ve never been here?”
“Just because I’m a sailor doesn’t mean I’ve been everywhere,” Alice said with a shrug. “And you should understand why: our headquarters is almost diagonal from here, cutting across the entire country. That’s a fairly long voyage across the country’s coast to reach a small port, so why send a skilled navigator like myself all the way here?”
“Fair,” I answered as we rode into the town. We saw the usual sights and sounds one would expect to see: children scurrying around with branches and toys, dogs barking, and a bakery with freshly baked bread lining the glass window of the small storefront. It wasn’t until we neared the docks that I saw something out of place: a small group of soldiers wearing the colors of Viceroy Alexandria. Glancing at Alice, she shrugged once as we approached them. The men and women, there were seven of them in total, quickly noticed us, brandishing a quick salute toward us.
“Ahh, Zero, and…?”
“Corporal De’vou,” Alice said.
I wasn’t sure how the ranks of the men and women before me compared to Alice's, and neither did I care that much. For all I knew, they were deferring entirely to me and simply showing her respect as my partner in our current endeavor, but it mattered little.
“We were sent to await your arrival. Based on some rumors, we suspected you had succeeded, but your presence here confirms it.”
“Indeed,” I answered flatly.
“I’m somewhat surprised you could dock here so freely, wearing the colors you are.” Alice pointed out.
“It was a little tense, but given how few of us there were, they told us not to get up to any funny business. I think they will be happy to see us leave.”
“And the journey south?” I questioned.
“Should be smooth sailing. We have a blockade shy of Akadia, meaning no royal dogs can sail north without first beating our blockade there. Otherwise, they’d have to sail through the deep ocean, and I doubt they want to risk that many troops to sea monsters. They’re more than content to attempt grinding us down; they know their ability to replace their ships is greater than our own, given they have a near monopoly on nearly all wood needed for builds and repairs.”
It made sense. The fertile lands of the country’s capital and the Southern region were ripe with forests and woods, unlike the sandy deserts of the central region. While the North also had plenty of forests, for reasons only a shipwright could tell you they weren’t suited for shipbuilding. I suspected it was the entire reason why, individually, our ships were so much more potent; if you couldn’t field nearly as much of a navy, you had to ensure those you could field were worth several times more than their opposing peers.
“Smooth sailing. That does sound like a wonderful change of pace.”
“Your trip north was rough?”
“Terribly.” Alice sighed as I recalled the heavenly punishment that bore down on our small vessel as we’d sailed north. “But it’s beside the point. No point waiting around if we can help it.”
The seven sailors, or perhaps soldiers, or maybe a mix, I wasn’t sure, all turned to me as if expecting me to add something.
Oh, right, I’m probably technically the highest chain of command here.
It was a strange consideration. While I existed outside of the standard chain, I’d been given an odd degree of say and authority within Nochesuki and its allies.
“What she said,” I said with a simple shrug.
“Then we can set sail shortly. We’ve been prepared to make a hasty departure at any moment as needed, but thankfully, we aren’t quite that rushed.”
I nodded to the man before I frowned momentarily.
I don’t even know their names.
Part of me wanted to ask, but a more cynical part decided against it. It was as if by knowing who they were, any deaths would be my responsibility.
I’d rather not deal with that.
As I watched them quickly prepare for our departure, I mentally apologized to the group for not taking the time to ask who they were. In what felt like only minutes soon, they had finished. Our vessel for our trip southward was a schooner this time, larger than the ship that had ferried us north, which had been more of a dinghy than a ship. Once finished, they quickly ushered us aboard, and without fanfare, my time in the North came to a close as I sailed away from the region that had once been my entire world.