“We don’t want you here, you damn dogs!”

Several soldiers dressed in the royal colors shifted nervously as the crowd pressed closer to them.

“Back down.” The lead soldier barked out to the angered crowd. “Before we are forced to use force.”

“Oh, you think you damn southern brats can just march into our lands and city and order us around!” A man from the crowd shouted as even more static tension began to build.

“The city of Akadia has no official jurisdiction. It does not owe allegiance to any specific regional hold.”

“Yeah, and what does that mean when you only show up to order us around?”

One of the soldiers leaned in toward their commanding officer, speaking under their breath.

“Sir, it’s the Viceroy. She’s whipped up the area’s citizens to see us as some sort of invading force.”

“I’m aware.” The man growled before turning back toward the crowd. “Again, I must command you to back down. We have no quarrel with those gathered here, but we will forcibly discipline any who break the laws of the land.”

The words were, ultimately, a mistake. The noise of the crowd doubled, anger bubbling out with increasing intensity. Pressing closer and closer to the guards, at last, the spark ignited.

A single rock sailed through the air, cracking one of the soldiers in the head and drawing blood.

A gathering that had initially been nothing but a group of citizens, albeit angered and intense citizenry, changed instantly. Having been struck, the guards were suddenly far wearier and, worst of all, fearful of the citizens now that they had drawn blood.

So, with one final shout and a shove, silence blossomed, a man staring down at his stomach in surprise.

“What did you do!?” The commanding soldier whirled around to stare at his youngest subordinate, a fresh recruit, now holding a bloodied sword.

“H-he charged me! So I struck without thinking.”

“Why did you even draw your weapon?’ The officer hissed.

“Well, well…” Without another word, he simply ushered toward his comrade with his bloodied forehead.

“Things are about to turn very badly.” The commanding officer whispered under his breath, and as if the words commanded the universe itself, the crowd began to part as another group of soldiers began to advance, this group several times larger.

Unlike the royal colors worn by the first group, the advancing soldiers were clad in the rich orange shades of Dunehold. Marching to a stop before the royal soldiers, the lead officer of the Dunehold soldiers stepped forward.

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“Your commanding officer, I would ask to report.

“Major Ickens.” The commanding officer stepped forward, snapping to a salute reserved for those of similar rank. “And you are?”

“Lieutenant Coronel Kiaros.” The officer nodded as he spoke. “I heard of a disturbance and came to check, only to see… this.” The man gestured toward the gutted civilian, turning to whisper toward one of his own soldiers. “Gerund, get that man some emergency aid and clear out the citizenry while you’re at it.”

“An accident of misfortunate timings.” Ickens spoke, already aware the excuse would buy no ground.

“An accident? Soldiers of our ilk should be better trained than for an accident to lead to the harm of the citizenry we are expected to protect. With that said, I order you and your men to lay down your arms and turn yourselves in willingly for disciplinary action.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Lieutenant Coronel.” Ickens shook his head once more. “I have commands from my own superiors that I must follow. Furthermore, while I grant you all the respect and dignity where I can, you are not a member of the royal forces and thus have no command over myself or the men I command.”

“That I may not be,” Kiaros answered in response. “But you are within the regional bounds and are thus still bound to the overarching laws and regulations, and within these lands, unless you have the express commands of the crown itself, you are to defer to local command.”

“Again, I must respectfully decline.” Major Ickens said. “I have my orders from the general command itself.”

“General command is not the crown.” Lieutenant Coronel Kiaros spoke with a deepening baritone of command. “For the final time, you have your orders to turn yourself in; else, we shall take you in by force if need be.”

The history books will have you believe that Major Ickens was a hot-headed officer whose decisions and actions would lead to violence and death, but the history books would be wrong. Major Ickens was, while young for his rank, a consummate professional who found himself in an unfavorable position, with orders he could not ignore.

So, with a pained understanding, he shook his head once more, never once letting his personal feelings show.

“So be it,” Kiaros said sadly. “Men, you are to take these soldiers into custody.”

“If you lay a hand on my men, it will be a declaration of treasonous intent, and we will respond as such.” Major Ickens voiced gravelly, well aware of what the Lieutenant Coronel’s response was to be.

“I have my protocols and orders,” Kiaros said with finality.

Dunehold troops advancing, those still in the vicinity would later report they could hear steel being unsheathed and deafening silence hanging in the air for several seconds longer.

A silence that was broken by the sound of shouts and clanging steel, the noise continuing onward for several minutes until, at last, silence again reigned.

The death toll would later be recorded as twelve members of the Center Eighth Platoon dead, with all but three members of the 55th Royal Division slain. As for the three remaining members of the 55th, they would be tried in a military court the very next day and declared guilty of war crimes for the unlawful slaying of the innocent citizenry, the wounded man succumbing to sepsis the very same day. Ruled guilty, they were sentenced to the harshest military punishment available. Stripped of their rights and ranks as soldiers, they were hung before the citizenry and later transferred to hang outside the city gates, forewarning the consequences of such crimes.

In response, the crown would send notice of their intention to seek reparations, demanding the bodies back. Refusal would arrive shortly after, the hung soldiers having lost all rights to ordinary military procedures for respectful handling of the deceased due to being found guilty of crimes against the citizenry.

Their bodies refused, the Haerasian Civil War would officially be declared only thirty-sixty hours later.