Life on the road was many things, but most of all, it was busy. Over the course of his time in Kelston, Rane had grown efficient in the usage of his time, and often found himself with little to do. He knew that his mother considered herself a bit of a poet, but he had not gotten quite bored enough to follow in her footsteps. Also, it reminded him of her, making him unnecessarily homesick.

On the road, it had been constant walking, pitching tents, digging latrines, waking up to the barking orders of multiple tallies, then repeating.

It was only their third day pressing into the Great Wood, but they could already feel the density of the forest reaching a critical point. The trees were now taller than even the homes of the nobility, and the brush could be more difficult to pass through than their walls. The ground was crisp with the leaves of the last fall, and each step loudly announced the presence of myriad intruders into the wood.

The light heat of the late summer seemed somehow more pressing even in the shade of the great pillars of wood and leaf. Sweat dampened his clothes and drove his body to greater thirst more quickly.

They reached the point where they would set up their first supply cache. In a clearing near a small pond, they would construct more permanent versions of the tents they pitched nightly for themselves, this time using posts amputated from the bodies of the trees that surrounded them like another hostile army.

It was here that Rane heard that the company had suffered its first casualty. Some unlucky fellow had been worried that his stash of liquor would be found and confiscated, so he found a solution he thought to be foolproof. He finished the supply of liquor, and a dozen minutes later found himself stumbling. Unfortunately, he lost his footing and rolled down a hill, bashing his head a few times on the way down.

Rane helped pitch their own tent. He would sleep with Puddles and Erick tonight, enjoying very slightly more room than the other tent, which would contain the other four members of the squad.

They were so tired of marching that they said nothing outside of what was necessary to cooperate in the building of the tent.

They slept soundly until they heard the scream of “attack” from one of the members of the squad attached to the lookout duty.

Puddles was the first to respond, up as if he had never been asleep in the first place. “This is it, boys, get up, leave everything non essential. Check the tent perimeter first and fan out towards the squad that sounded the alarm. If you see a tally, get new orders.”

Rane emerged from the tent into a maelstrom of activity, all flickering in the dim light of small cooking fires and lanterns set up to allow men to go to the latrines. It seemed chaotic, but Rane knew better. They moved with purpose, and so did he.

He expanded his ambient sense and immediately began to walk clockwise around the tent. Erick followed behind him, moving counterclockwise. They met at the back of the tent, and Erick fell behind Rane as they completed their rotation, meeting Puddles back at the front.

“Clear,” said Rane.

“Move,” responded Puddles.

Klein arrived moments later with the other three in tow, Aabe in particular looking still caught in the grasp of his dreams.

“Fall in,” commanded Puddles.

They reached the edge of camp swiftly to the scene of two tallies arguing. At their feet was a still body of one of the lookouts.

“We need to send two squads in pursuit NOW, every moment–”

“Daft fool! You’ll have even more blood on your hands!” High Tally Hertz cut off Tally Nash of the 70th.

Aura flared before being quickly suppressed by the arrival of their respective commanders. The murmurs turned silent, and Rane heard only the noise of bugs and the boots of Commander Caeris and Commander Jaskil arriving at the scene.

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“To call another a fool is unnecessary many times, even if correct,” interjected Commander Caeris.

“Lady Caeris is correct,” continued Commander Jaskil, “and we will not pursue. If it were elves that attacked, it may have simply been their expression of displeasure at our choice of site for our supply cache. Our squads would never catch a pair of elves in their own territory. If it were the axtl coalition, an ambush is all but guaranteed.”

Commander Caeris spoke again, “Well said. Hold our position, double the sentries, and go back to sleep. We march early.”

Rane was still looking down at the body of the lookout. He recognized him. It was Lint. It was almost strange to see him. He had such little contact with his original squad members from his time in training. None of them had fallen into his division, and he sought little contact outside of his own squad.

Lint had done what he had done; however, it was still sobering to see him lying as such on the ground, much like Bask had come to rest so long ago. Rane had spent enough time away from them that he no longer considered them “enemies” as he once had.

Now, the young man was simply the first real casualty of war, a reminder to them all that their lives hung on the balances of an unfair scale.

They went back to their tents, but they were unable to get much sleep. It was difficult to calm their racing hearts, or loosen their grasp on the surrounding ambient.

*****

They marched on for another two days. It was busy as always, but felt uneventful. Lint’s death had marked the true beginning of the war for most of the soldiers, and for the group of mostly young men, fighting was the only true reprieve from their dogged march. The veterans may not have agreed, but Rane didn’t care. He signed up to fight, and so he would fight.

They did not have to wait too long. The scouts returned to the company later that day with reports of an axtl fortified position. Puddles went to an officer's debriefing to get the full news and relay orders back to the rest of the squad.

Rane, Erick, Klein, Aabe, Mud, and Sven waited in a small clearing with a few other squads. They were told not even to pitch tents. They sat and discussed in low voices.

“Three bronze says Aabe gets the least kills,” said Sven.

“Forget kill count, Sven, I’ve got bets with a couple other squads that you're gonna be the next to die,” Erick said with a grin. A couple grabbed their mouths and hunched over, trying to hold in laughter. It wasn’t that funny, but they were nervous, and any joke seemed as if it had been told by the most hilarious of wandering jesters.

“Don’t catch the attention of a tally,” said Klein. “And don’t joke about who will be first to die. It’s bad luck.”

The six sat in silence until Puddles arrived to give them their orders.

“We follow Commander Caeris, who will take the front and lead us to the encampment. Once there, she will drop back and secure our perimeter. The orders are to kill every axtl in the fortified position and surrounding.”

Rane looked around the group at the conclusion of the order. Solemn, silent, subdued excitement. There was a range of emotions present, but Rane could only feel his own.

He felt… Nothing. He was calm. He didn’t care about the lives of the axtls. They were closer to the fenull they had killed on patrol back in Kelston than himself or his comrades. Maybe they were worse. After all, they could walk and talk, and yet, had still started a war of annihilation by razing the milling village. They were vile beasts, rabid dogs, and Rane would serve his country by eliminating them.

Rane felt the presence of Commander Caeris and turned to look. He had been the first to turn. She was suppressing her own presence, he realized, suddenly coming to understand why she would take her division in as vanguards.

Her dark skin made her features difficult to see in the shadows of dusk cast from the canopy above, but, even with her presence suppressed, at this range, the young woman felt as if she was another pillar surrounding them, tall and strong. She nodded and walked out into the bush as if she was heading to a local market, yet making no sound.

With their torches extinguished and ambient flared, the entire division followed behind.

*****

She heard wooden clappers in the distance.

Caeris knew that this day would come, but that didn’t make her hate it any less. She thought again of Aasha, the old elf to whom she owed her life. Aasha would probably kill her if they met in a place like this.

And yet, here she was. She wanted to inspire change, but instead had become an instrument of the Emperor's relentless pursuit of power. She was too confined. She thought of the soldiers behind her. At least they had made their vile choices freely.

They also knew not that which she knew. They believed themselves righteous and just.

I am perhaps worse than them, she thought, for I know, and yet here I am, still going to kill those who have never wronged me, in service to a group of monsters.