As the first light of morning spilled through his window, Aderon stirred from his restless night. Sleep had eluded him throughout, his mind weighed down by the events of the previous day. The words of the new officer, delivered with a sting of betrayal, echoed in his thoughts like a haunting refrain.
“Your father did not want you to lead us here in the united forces,” the officer’s voice echoed in his mind. “Only the Grand Commander has authority over us.”
With a heavy sigh, he rose from his bed, the weight of responsibility bearing down on his shoulders. Shirtless, his wings trailing behind him, he approached the mirror and gazed at his reflection, the weariness etched in his features.
Splashing his face with water from the bowl before him, he sought to clear his mind, to push aside the doubts and uncertainties that clouded his thoughts. But try as he might, he couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment that gnawed at him.
It had all started in Tamara, when he had made the decision to commit the forces of the High Kingdom to Tamiron’s call to arms. In his naivety, he had envisioned glory and honor for the Eaglekind, but his father’s disapproval had cast a shadow over his ambitions.
A full year had passed since then, a year marked by broken promises and unfulfilled expectations. The recapture of Huertian had been a costly endeavor, and the sacrifices made by their soldiers weighed heavily on his conscience.
His struggle to maintain his composure amidst the Eaglekind forces’ treatment of him had not gone unnoticed. With a determined resolve, he splashed his face once more with water, wiping away the remnants of doubt and frustration that lingered.
Prepared to face the challenges ahead, he donned his armor and set off for the meeting room. The corridors, adorned with grand imperial regalia and portraits of past leaders, served as a stark reminder of the weight of bearing the High Eagle’s honor and prestige, against their perceived rival.
On his way, he crossed paths with Tamiron, the former Grand Commander, who offered a greeting in the morning light. His response was brief, his mind preoccupied with more pressing matters.
“Good morning, Prince Aderon,” Tamiron greeted, attempting to engage in small talk.
His nod was short, betraying his lack of enthusiasm for idle conversation. However, Tamiron persisted, probing about his intentions to leave his post.
“Are you really serious about leaving your post, Tamiron?” he questioned, his tone laced with genuine curiosity.
“You really don’t like to waste time, don’t you?” Tamiron said as he smiled as he chuckled. “But to answer your question, yes. I am.” Tamiron’s response was lighthearted, his smile masking deeper reasons.
“I only said that because it was the logical way to go. Given the current situation.” He said, then looked at Tamiron, “I meant no disrespect.”
“You haven’t been disrespectful, Aderon,” Tamiron assured him, his words carrying a weight of sincerity. “Despite the challenges you faced, you’ve always adhered to the chain of command, even exceeding expectations at times.”
His internal struggle was evident, his past failures weighing heavily on his mind. Memories of being overshadowed by an imperial prince, a constant reminder of his shortcomings, resurfaced once more.
Since their visit to the Imperial Capital in the past, his training had intensified after his defeat by Tamiron in a friendly combat. Seeking his father’s approval, he dedicated himself to improving his skills, not only in aerial combat but also in ground battles. The raiding parties in Xerxecian coastal towns had provided valuable training opportunities, as it fueled his determination to one day surpass Tamiron and earn his father’s pride.
However, despite a chance encounter five years ago where victory seemed within reach, he hesitated. The words of the Immortal Being echoed in his heart, reminding him of the consequences of his actions should he go through with what he originally planned. Thus, his father’s disapproval and the loss of respect from his people from doing what he felt was the right thing at the time. While some still held him in esteem, most did not, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that his father was behind it all. Growing weary of constantly seeking validation, he longed to break free from his father’s shadow.
Tamiron’s reassurance brought a mix of emotions for him. As the former Grand Commander expressed agreement with his concerns, he couldn’t help but sense the genuine remorse hidden behind Tamiron’s smile. Despite the facade of strength, he noticed a hint of vulnerability in Tamiron’s voice, resonating with his own frustrations and struggles.
With a few words, Tamiron’s acknowledgment of the challenges they faced in their roles as leaders struck a chord with him. Despite the weight of responsibility, he found solace in knowing that he was not alone in his struggles. As they shared this moment of understanding, he felt a sense of kinship with Tamiron, realizing that they were both navigating the complexities of leadership together.
“Aside from leading the united forces, it seems my sister is determined to keep me occupied,” Tamiron remarked with a chuckle as they approached the meeting room door. With a synchronized clearing of their throats, he opened the door for them, allowing Tamiron to enter first.
Inside, they were met by the assembled group, already poised for the meeting to commence. “Good, everyone’s here. Let’s get started while I’m still in the mood,” Ravaen asserted promptly upon their arrival.
“Agreed,” Kaira affirmed, her voice carrying authority. “Let’s address the final item on our agenda.”
Everess interjected. “I’ll go ahead and say it now, that I won’t be accepting any nominations for the Grand Commander post,” preempting any potential nominations. “My hands are already full as it is. It wouldn’t make sense that I take this role now,” she explained firmly.
“But you already are a Grand Commander. Tamiron gave you equal authority to his before he stepped down,” he pointed out as he removed his helmet. “Plus, it only makes sense that you lead. Given your strength.” He added.
“Thank you for that, Aderon, but like I said, my hands are full. I have far more pressing matters that need to be dealt with,” Everess pointed out once more.
He couldn’t help but feel puzzled by Everess’ refusal, sensing a hidden agenda at play. The rest of the group shared his curiosity, their expressions reflecting a mixture of intrigue and anticipation. As silence settled over the room, He reached for a cup of matrik, steeling himself for the discussion ahead.
“As it appears no one else is preparing a nomination,” Tamiron announced, rising from his seat, “before I put forward my own nomination; I would like to inform you that after this meeting is over. I am to head back to the capital for a very urgent matter. It seems that the Queen Empress needs of my assistance more directly now,”
Glaivel’s concern was palpable as he inquired, “Is everything alright? This seems rather sudden.”
“For now, I cannot divulge any information, as I want to check on this first. I need you all to be focused here as we solidify our hold of Termosad and onwards to the Xerxecian capital.” Tamiron emphasized.
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“If that’s your decision, we shall abide by it.” Sevidon’s agreement was swift. “Let us move on then to who your nomination is. I would just like to make it clear, that I will support whoever you nominate, as I did to you,”
Tamiron’s smile, though warm. “I’m glad that you said that. At least I know that everything will go smoothly then” With a solemn clearing of his throat, he continued, his words resonating in the meeting room, “As the former Grand Commander of the United Forces, I hereby nominate my successor: Aderon Azure.”
The words hung heavy in the air, seeming to reverberate off the stone walls. He felt a surge of disbelief, his heart pounding against his chest. This was unexpected, to say the least. He had never considered himself worthy of such a position, and to be nominated by Tamiron himself... it was almost too much to comprehend.
Tamiron’s gaze remained unwavering, a silent encouragement shared by the others, urging him to accept the nomination. Amidst a whirlwind of emotions, he swallowed hard, signaling for another vial of matrik from the servant. Struggling to maintain composure, he fought to find his voice amidst the overwhelming tide of feelings crashing over him.
“Are you certain of your decision, Tamiron?” he managed to inquire, meeting the former Grand Commander’s steady gaze.
“It is only fitting that you assume the post,” Tamiron responded, settling back into his seat. “Your leadership during previous engagements speaks volumes. You orchestrated the command of four divisions with precision, even surpassing some of my own strategies via the owls."
Glaivel interjected with a nod of agreement. “Indeed, your foresight is something to be proud of, particularly in these trying times.”
Sevidon chimed in, acknowledging his comparable acumen to Tamiron. “Your strategic prowess rivals that of Tamiron. If only he wasn’t bogged down with the current problems the empire is facing at home, you two are actually comparable,”
“I offer you my unwavering support,” Graveloth affirmed, his projection flickering briefly, a testament to his commitment to the cause.
Kaira turned to Ravaen, “Ravaen, what say you?” Kaira asked seeking his input.
After a moment of silence, he spoke, his words laced with reluctant respect. “I don’t like you. But I cannot deny your competence as a commander. I’d rather have you than having no head at all,” he conceded, a subtle dig aimed at Tamiron.
Though visibly discontent, Tamiron accepted Ravaen’s words with a begrudging nod, acknowledging the former Grand Commander’s authority despite Ravaen’s personal reservations.
“So, what do you say, Grand Commander?” Tamiron’s inquiry hung heavy in the air.
A weighty burden pressing down on him. In the midst of the tumultuous swirl of his thoughts, a flicker of determination ignited within him. If Tamiron had faith in his abilities, perhaps he was indeed capable of rising to the challenge.
Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and met Tamiron’s gaze with newfound resolve. “I... I accept the nomination,” he declared, the words feeling both foreign and strangely right as they left his lips.
As his gaze lingered on Tamiron, a smile crossed his lips, accompanied by a reassuring pat on the back. Though a simple gesture, it carried a weight that resonated deeply within him, echoing through the corridors of his mind.
Reflecting on their interactions, he realized that Tamiron’s kindness often manifested in such fleeting gestures— a smile here, a pat on the back there. Despite their simplicity, they spoke volumes amidst the icy winds of indifference that he had grown accustomed to back home.
In the company of Tamiron and his companions, he found himself embraced by a sense of belonging he had long yearned for. It was a stark contrast to the cold indifference that had characterized his past experiences.
Of all the individuals he had encountered on his journey, he had never expected Tamiron to extend such kindness towards him. The former Grand Commander, known for his unwavering dedication to duty, had revealed a side of himself that defied expectations and left a lasting impression on his heart.
As he grappled with this realization, a wave of gratitude washed over him, mingled with a twinge of uncertainty. In Tamiron’s smile and gentle gestures, he found solace and reassurance, but also a reminder of the fragility of the bonds they shared amidst what he considered their complicated relationship. It was as if they had forged a connection akin to that of brothers.
Amidst the applause and greetings for the new Grand Commander, he remained stunned by the events leading up to this moment. Yet, deep down, he held a steadfast certainty that he could live up to the expectations that came with his newfound role.
“First order of business,” he announced, his voice steady, “I would like to remove any confusion in the chain of command.” His gaze shifted towards Everess. “To that end, I’ll be rescinding Tamiron’s orders granting you equal authority to mine.”
The room fell into a hushed anticipation as everyone awaited his next words. “However, given your pressing matters,” he continued, “I will grant you full autonomy, complete with your own regiment. You will have command of two-thirds of the imperial forces and the other races.”
“What?!” Ravaen’s interjection pierced the tense silence. “What you are doing is way worse!”
He locked eyes with the confrontational Ravaen, who was being restrained by the others. “Ravaen, you need to calm down,” Glaivel urged, holding him back.
“Ravaen, Everess is doing us a favor,” he continued, addressing the room. “Thanks to her, we now know where the enemy is manufacturing their weapons. We can plan our next move and take that citadel by force. For now, I want each of you to return to your respective divisions and allocate the forces you’ll provide to Everess while we devise a plan and scout out Oroz’Kram.”
“Everess will have nothing! This is too much!” Ravaen’s voice thundered through the room as he pushed Glaivel aside, his frustration palpable. He pointed a finger at Everess. “We are not finished, Grand Sage,” he declared before storming out, his anger trailing behind him like a tempest.
“Leave him be,” he commanded, motioning for the others to halt their pursuit. “He needs time to cool off. Sometimes solitude is the best remedy to vent frustrations.” He turned to the remaining members of the meeting. “I’ll end this gathering now so we can make use of the remainder of the day. We must act swiftly.”
As the others filed out, he singled out Graveloth. “Graveloth, I want you to give me an update in regards to the kra’enite, everything after your meeting with your council there. Is that understood?”
“It is, Grand Commander,” Graveloth affirmed, offering a reassuring smile before his projection vanished.
“Tamiron, Everess, please stay,” he requested, gesturing for the servants to depart and close the doors behind them. With only the three of them left in the room, he took a deep breath. “I’ll make sure to honor your position and your trust, Tamiron,”
Tamiron’s smile conveyed his confidence. “I expected nothing less.”
Turning his attention to Everess, his gaze was firm. “But I must know your intentions moving forward. It’s evident that you both are working towards something, and while I trust it’s for the greater good, recent events highlight the consequences of secrecy. I request, at the very least, a basic outline of your plans. Is that understood, Everess?”
Everess exchanged a glance with Tamiron before meeting his gaze. “I will, Aderon. Rest assured, I’ll provide you with the necessary information and cooperate fully. I bid you farewell for now,” she concluded before departing.
Only he and Tamiron remained in the room.
“I’ll be taking my leave as well. I’ll send out a memo once I gather my belongings,” Tamiron announced.
“No need for that,” he replied firmly. “I’ll handle it.” With that, he exited the room, instructing his attendants outside to assemble the entire force.
It took some time, stretching into the night, before every soldier, both men and women, stood in formation outside, awaiting his arrival. On a makeshift stage erected for the occasion, he stood flanked by the other commanders, including Ravaen. He took a deep breath and flied towards the stage. As he landed in the middle of the commanding officers, he held his chin high and stood proudly.
“Attention, everyone,” he called out.
Under the watchful gaze of Luna, Aderon announced his ascension to the position of Grand Commander. The response was thunderous, the soldiers rallying behind him with the fiercest war cry he had ever heard.
As the echoes of their fervent cries reverberated through the night, the fires of Bastominad danced in the wind, casting flickering shadows like spirits in the desert. It was a moment charged with the energy of a storm, set against the backdrop of Luna’s silent vigil.
Meanwhile, a cloaked figure traversed a floating island, its destination a temple nestled amidst ancient trees. Temple guards, adorned with long feathers and face paint in the hues of white and sky blue, with their chest exposed that has the same colors. With their belts, bearing the emblem of the Mystic Falcons, confronted the intruder with spears drawn and wings spread.
“Who dares trespass upon the sacred island of Ahktum?” one guard demanded, his tone stern.
The figure remained silent, advancing toward the temple despite the warning.
“Step no further! One more move and you’ll find yourself at Gorenhurd’s mercy!” another guard warned, their spears poised for action.
Ignoring the threats, the figure quickened its pace. In a sudden burst of motion, fiery eyes glared from beneath the cloak, and a blinding flash of red light sent the guards hurtling to their demise in the darkness below.
Entering the temple unimpeded, after a few moments, the figure unleashed a devastating explosion from within, engulfing the sacred structure in flames.
End of Chapter IX