It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t why he’d joined the army. To think he had somehow managed to end up in an actual war. And a real war too not just some simple revolt. Farovi cursed as yet another branch swung back to hit him in the face. He lashed out trivially with his blade. He could have been sent anywhere, to the beaches of Iosrun, the wide open plains of Afraa, anywhere, but no instead he’d ended up in wet, miserable Aileann. Confined to a single city with savage natives on all sides it hadn’t taken long for boredom to set in. Of course that was all to change now, soon every city would hold a Milesian Garrison and be free for them to travel to and from as they pleased. That would be only after they had destroyed the Druaidíi however, and only if he survived. The General’s words were still firmly imprinted in his head. “You have been chosen as the first of our people to step foot in Belvoir. A truly prestigious honor that we will all remember and value.”

Farovi spat on the ground beside him. He may have been foolish to sign up for such a posting in the first place but he was not so foolish as to believe Tifar’s words. The truth of the matter was that all 20 of those sent forth as part of his scouting mission were mere test subjects. At best they might happen upon one of the hidden roadways used by the Druaidíi, at worst they might be able to see the enemy and find out for themselves their alleged prowess in battle.

Unfortunately they had been sent out in pairs, each with orders to blow their horns to alert the others to any sign of the Druaidíi. It might not have been so bad had he been paired with someone else. However just as everything seemed to go against him on this damn Isle so too did this, and he found himself stuck with the simple, overly disciplined patriotic fool still bounding on in front of him.

Jovea, that was his name, he had seemed overjoyed when told of their special mission, thinking it indeed a great honor. With one hand holding his horn to his lips, ready at a moment's notice to signal and the other gamely hacking his way through, he had practically ran into the forest.

He had been in Aileann since the first Empire War and he seemed to be jubilant at the prospect of destroying the Druaidíi. A sentiment that Farovi did not share. He had not faced them himself but he had heard the stories. Of which there were many, and more seem to be heard as each day had passed on the march. Tales of terrible magic, control of unknown fierce beasts and savage bloodthirsty people were likely exaggerated, Farovi knew, but the thought of proving those exaggerations was not something he was eager to do.

Ahead of him Jovea paused and began to look carefully all about him as if trying to decide what best route to take. He didn’t think to consult back to Farovi. They had fallen into an uncomfortable silence not shortly after their first conversation. They would never be called kindred spirits by any measurement.

After a moment Jovea nodded and headed on in the direction they were already moving in as if he had some notion of where they were going. According to the history books, and the Partholóns for that matter, no man had ever entered Belvoir and gotten back out alive. Therefore all they knew was that somewhere in this vast forest lay secret Duaidai roadways which would lead them to their famous home, Dún na Rí. They’d been roaming for over four hours now however with no sign of anything to tell of and it seemed to Farovi that it was all the same, Oaks, beeches, sycamores all clustered together without structure or planning. Damn Partholóns they are almost as bad as the bloody Druaidíi themselves, it should have been them and only them sent in first.

Like many of those that had been stationed at Carthaga Farovi struggled to see the Partholóns as allies even as they marched together against a common foe. It had all happened so fast, and of course it was the soldiers which were last to find out about anything. At the very moment they had been about to set out from the Castle, General Hortensia had addressed them informing them that a new agreement had been brokered and another vassal added to Milesia’s already heaped hoard of states. Now instead of marching on King Breogan to defend the city they would be marching alongside the Partholóns led by Brandubh and Earl Harfrigh to destroy or nullify the Druaidíi threat. A threat which Farovi felt ever more aware of with each step.

No matter how fervently or vigorously he tried he never seemed to have space around him. Though infuriatingly when he looked just ahead or behind him it appeared that all about him stretched expanses of land. More stranger still despite the time they had now spent in here they had yet to catch sight of any animal, not a single one. There had at one point been a solitary eagle gliding over their heads but even it had abandoned them some time ago.

Farovi knew little enough about forests but he knew enough to recognise the unnatural air within this one. It was as if the forest itself sensed him as an outsider, no human intruder had ever entered its confines and returned out again. Not alive at any rate. Farovi fought the growing urge to run, if he did he knew what happened to those found deserting. Shipped off back to Milesia to be made the subject of the Maegists grotesque experiments on their accursed island of experiments. No, whatever Belvoir had he could face. Unless.

“What are you doing back there?” Jovea startled him from his thoughts. “What use is us being in pairs if we can’t see the other. Keep up.”

Jovea stood impatiently some ways ahead of him a stern look on his face. Farovi kept his pace, “What use is there being here at all?” Surely we have gone in far enough now. Clearly we are not on the right path. We should turn back and return to camp, we can provide further details on the terrain if nothing else.”

Jovea puffed his cheeks and eyed him irritably. “The terrain, it’s a forest isn’t it, not much to inform back about that. None of us have found anything. General Tifar is not someone we want to return to empty handed, believe me. I’ve heard no horn have you?”

Farovi shook his head languidly.

“Well we keep going until we do.”

Jovea held out a flask as he came up alongside him.

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He took a deep drink and wiped his mouth clean before handing it back.

“You don’t seem overly bothered by this suicide mission. That is what this is y’know.”

Jovea swiped the flask back and without using it himself and put it away, he immediately began to plough on ahead. “Well of course it is,” he offered back, “you haven’t been here very long have you boy?”

“Six months now, since Consolidation Day.”

Jovea grumbled wordlessly to himself. “Well then it’s best you learn now to shut your mouth and get on with it than complain. We were sent in here to find some sign of Druaidíi and until we do we’ve no choice but to continue with our suicide mission.”

Farovi sighed. “And do you believe they will continue to allow us trample all over their home much longer?”

“No, but they haven’t done anything yet have they?”

Farovi paused frowning. “So you think they know we’re here but are allowing us wander about anyways?”

Jovea shrugged. “We haven’t found anything have we. But yes I imagine they know we’re here, if any of what I know of them is true.”

“You’ve faced them before? In battle I mean.”

Jovea hesitated a moment. “Yes, yes I have. And I will admit I am not eager to do so again. For though they may be few they are more deadly than any man, twice as fast, twice as strong and with manys skills and abilities as we have not yet fully realised.”

Farovi flinched as Jovea sent a branch flying back, though it appeared accidental. “Some of the men say that there might not even be a war. That once they see our strength at their door they will concede to the Generals demands.”

Jovea laughed bitterly, “If only. But no the Druaidíi are not for turning I think. There will be a battle, and a terrible one at that.”

Faravoi sighed. “Well thank you for your stirring words, if we are to somehow make it back to camp, I will look forward to dying brutally further on down the line.”

They struggled on once more in silence. The man seems either uncaring or reconciled to the fact that they were inkling ever closer to a likely death.

Farovi placed his horn back onto his belt. Jovea was close ahead of him now firmly focused on the task of clearing away the trees and branches blocking their path.

The scout eyed his blade down by his side. It would not be so difficult. One quick swipe would be all it would take. One quick swipe. He could signal an alarm, create some cuts and tears on his armor and body. Who would deny him if he claimed an attack.

His lips were dry and he felt an overwhelming thirst, it would be a rather cowardly act however. To take a fellow soldier unawares in the back, all to save his own skin. Then again if Jovea would not listen to reason, would not heed the signs and refuse to give in then perhaps it was not cowardly at all. To see what is right and not act upon it is the worst cowardice, his father was oft fond of saying. Farovi tightened his grip on his blade. He would not be a coward. He would do what is right and return to camp immediately. They’d believe him, besides he knew enough about the Druaidíi, hells he’d seen a group of them on a General’s visit to Gorias not two months past. Big, tall and annoyingly alluring, he could easily describe them.

He brought his sword up and moved forward carefully steadying his hurried breath. “You were right before, about sticking close together. If the Druaidíi are watching us then we need to be.”

Jovea nodded but didn’t stray from his task and continued swinging through the dense growth, Farovi came up stalking behind him.

Suddenly Jovea stopped dead in his tracks, Farovi almost ran into him such was the brusqueness of his halt. He lowered his steel abruptly. “WH..”

Jovea fell back lifelessly, his face distorted and smashed in by the circular blade protruding from it.

Farovi instinctively reached for his horn but was hurled crashing backwards by an unnatural blast of wind before his hand could even twitch. He was flung unceremoniously into a heavy oak tree and slumped helplessly to the ground at its feet. Farovi’s vision blurred as the shock passed and the pain entered. Such a pain as had never felt, as if his entire inner organs had been shuffled mercilessly by a skilled card dealer until none were left in their natural position.

“See, I am the best shot.”

A girl’s voice reached him first as from the sky itself two figures descended landing gracefully down in front of where Jovea now lay. Druaidíi. The larger of the two bent down to examine Jovea, he pulled the blade out from his face and clicked his teeth.

“Not bad, though you could hardly miss, right in front of you and barely moving. Anything other than the head would have been terrible.”

He had the voice of a young man. The smaller slimmer of the two, the female, snatched the blade from his hand, “Wasn’t bad, it was perfect, and you could have been a bit quicker with the other one, look.” She pointed over towards him, “You didn’t even kill him. He’s still breathing and everything, least my one’s dead.”

The male stood up sighing and wiped his hands, “I know he’s not dead, I decided that before I struck little cousin. He wouldn’t be breathing if I had not.”

“Why? Our orders were to kill these ones.”

“They were. And I will. But this one was about to attack his fellow man. And from behind no less. He deserves to suffer.”

The male came over to hunch down beside him, Farovi turned to look into gleaming green eyes, so big, so bright. So cold.”

The Druaid stared unblinking. “His ribs are broken and his lungs pierced, he’ll die soon. I just wanted him to see me first.”

“Why?”

“So he would know.”

“Know?”

“Know that he would die.”

The Druaid stood up and looked around him, “The others will be on shortly to collect, let the men see what happens to those which enter Belvoir uninvited.”

Farovi closed his eyes as the pain burned inside him. He was going to die.

The voices of the Druaidíi began to fade as the pain increased. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, killed by a people he had never even heard of six months ago. He could have been anywhere, Iosrun, Afraa, anywhere but he’d ended up here. Farovi knew he should feel something,something profound, his last thoughts and dreams as he went from this life to the next. He didn’t. He just felt pain.