"I HAVE NEVER NAMED MY WARRIORS WHO CONTROL THE ARCANES, BUT THERE HAS BEEN A TERM GOING AROUND THAT I QUITE LIKE; DEVILDEALERS.”

- THE HELLFIRE CHRONICLES, HOLY BOOK OF TRAGSXT

1st of Jirath, 1012 on the War calendar:

Helandrin Flax smashed the rock with his hammer angrily. The chains around his hands seemed tighter today.

He broke the rock open with a final swing, revealing a bead of purplish-black obsidian.

The massive brand of slavery on his back burned as it always did, unending for an entire year. The brand was simple yet elegant; a Yjraith symbol seared into his skin. It meant worthless. Worthless, that was all the blood-spilled idiots could think of!

Helandrian calmed himself, picking up the bead and putting it in a pouch attached to his rope belt.

He looked around. There was barely any light seeping into the cavern. That didn't surprise him; the cave was beneath The Hollows, the primary battleground for the Blood War.

For a moment, he let himself stare into the patterns that flowed through the ashy gray rock. It was the solitary enjoyment that couldn't be taken away from him.

That was until he found another deposit.

Suddenly, the obsidian collar around his neck felt tighter; it was suppressing his Devildealing.

Only shackles made with spiral obsidian could do that. Ilor explained it to him once; it had to do with the intent the blacksmith had when forging. Of course, Ilor was dead now. They were all dead.

Thinking about it reminded him how it had been almost a year since he'd spoken with his Pledgeborn.

"Azstrik?" He asked to the air, futilely.

All he could get in response was a low groan.

Helandrin grunted with anguish before smashing the deposit in an angry swing.

"Slash it all." He muttered to himself.

Helandrin stared at the obsidian in his hands, the groves around it, all incircling a single flower somehow etched into every bead.

Helandrin broke into a low psychotic laugh; this was his life; he existed just to ensure Yjraith could chain more slaves.

A horn that to Helandrin sounded like a pair of Jkri Tusks mating blew in the air; it was time for lunch.

After navigating through a few swirling tunnels, Helandrin found himself in a wide brightly lit area; the entrance.

Next to the wall, a wooden table was set up with servants giving food to tired slaves.

A long line had already formed. Luckily, Daiez had saved him a spot. The man was the only other survivor of General Oa's final charge.

Daiez was Ilraian like Heladrin, but he was shorter along with being skin and bones with unkempt long hair and scraggly stubble. Helandrin had been doing hard labor to keep his strength up, but Daiez had just given up.

"Helandrin, we need to do something," Daiez said. He was always straight to the point. Helandrin admired that about him.

"About what?" Helandrin asked. As he did a large man in towering armor entered the cave. Commander Tali, the one who gave them orders in place of their master.

One of the slaves broke.

He ran for Commander Tali and started pounding on his chest, tears streaming from his eyes.

There could have been any number of reasons he did this, but it didn't matter. General Tali unsheathed a blade holstered on his waist and stabbed the slave through the abdomen.

The slave's eyes started to glow; an insanity speech.

"The world's heroes must unite!... The end is here!... The pledges must be forged!... The fellowship must be born!"

Sometimes, when people died they spouted crazy talk with glowing eyes. It was just a fact of life.

The blood dripped off of Tali's immaculate armor.

Daiez grimaced, "About that. I have to escape."

"You could fake your death," Helandrin suggested. It was the only way; otherwise, nobody would take you in, fearing personal wrath from the Yjraiths.

"No. I want them to know," Daiez said, nodding his head towards the other slaves.

"Are you insane?" Helandrin asked. "There isn't a single place that'll harbor you; it's suicide."

"Why do you think that?" Daiez asked, "You believed in good men once."

Helandrin and Daiez met eyes. "That was before I knew all the heroes were dead. They killed themselves for some asinine greater good." Helandrin said.

Daiez nodded. He disagreed but knew arguing was useless. The shorter man's eyes grew distant as he glanced at the other slaves, their eyes miserable from staring at the dead body on the floor.

"It'll give them hope. They need hope." Daiez explained.

They met eyes again, and a silence flowed through them. "All I need is a distraction. I have everything else ready." Daiez said.

"Fine!" Helandrin said; he could tell there was no talking him out of it.

The conversation moved on until they reached the end of the line.

Helandrin put down his pouch of obsidian in exchange for the food. That was how they made sure the slaves wouldn't try to smuggle the obsidian

The kindly servant handed Helandrin a tray with half of the normal amount of slave slop.

Helandrin raised an eyebrow, "Sorry!" The servant said apologetically, "Tali's orders; he said it was for the trouble you caused last week."

What? Oh right.

Helandrin had told the other slaves about his time serving in the Ilra Milletary and Oa's march, it had stirred them quite a bit.

Helandrin grimaced but didn't complain; the servant was just following Tali's orders, who currently sat on a bench overlooking them eating an apple.

Helandrin and Daiez started walking off to find a part of the cave to sit and eat.

"Hey, soldier boy!" Tali called Helandrin. He didn't seem to be aware that Daiez served with him.

Tali got up from his chair and planted the half-eaten apple on Helandrin's tray. "It's the only extra food you're getting," Tali said with a sadistic grin.

Helandrin glowered at him, which seemed the exact reaction Tali wanted to get.

The general seemed to enjoy toying with Helandrian.

The slave plucked the half-eaten apple from his tray and threw it into a trash can next to the wooden table.

General Tali just chuckled a bit to himself like he told the grandest joke in the world before leaving the cave.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

After eating and more slave labor, night fell, and Helandrin and Daiez went to their assigned barracks to sleep the night.

.

.

.

Helandrin found himself in a creator of dirt-brown stone with wool-like grooves; The Hollows.

He was dreaming. Helandrin always knew when he was dreaming. Some called it a blessing, others a curse, and Helandrin didn't think much of it.

He looked around; he was leading a large battalion of soldiers. They were listening to someone sitting on a bench in front of them as Tali had, but this man looked more honorable.

It was then Helandrin realized what he was reliving.

Almost exactly one year ago. The day his life ended; General Oa's final march.

Next to him was a man in a lieutenant's uniform. He had a kindly face, a scraggly beard that refused to grow, and shoulder-length hair that matched his soldier's build. It was Daiez before they were branded.

Helandrin tried to speak to him, but nothing came out. He was reliving the moment beat for beat. No exceptions.

He turned his attention back on General Oa, sitting quietly on a bench, hands clasped over his mouth. The Obelisk of the deep, a giant trident of flowing water, rammed into the ground behind him, along with a much smaller- man-made- stone wall sprouting from it. It was the border of Ilra.

Oa unclasped his hands and shouted to the crowd, "Men! The Draiths are crowded past the walls, ready to invade. They have WarThunder in the group. I'll get to the point, nothing will keep them from invading except a full assault, all of us without worry for safety. I ask you all to die with me, not for Ilra, but for the safety of your friends and family."

Everyone cheered, including Helandrin and Daiez.

They were all ready to die for this man. Helandrin just wished he actually died.

"Azstrik! Blade!" The Tidebringer's past self commanded, hand held forward.

The sphere of water hovering around his head melted in his hand, becoming a gleaming metal trident.

So did the Pledgeborn of every other general and most lieutenants.

Helandrin ordered his men to get ready.

A short time later, all 50,000 of them were outside the border, on horseback, waiting for the invaders to arrive.

A bustling of clomps started rising from a deeper slope in the Hollows. A blue banner with an intricate storm symbol on it flew high on a flagpole held up by one of the invaders.

For a moment, all was calm.

The two armies stopped to stare at each other as rain started to fall.

Then, out of the Draith's army, a lone Stormforger in navy blue armor covering everything except his face rose into the air. A giant blunt Warhammer rested in his left hand, a beard flowed from his chin, and short blond hair accompanied by a handsome face. WarThunder. Destroyer of hopes.

WarThunder yelled a battle cry and all hell broke loose.

.

.

.

An hour later, Helandrin stood in a pile of bodies. His steed had either died or run away during the chaos. He didn't care which.

The armies had been pretty even when starting, but now the scales had tipped.

The Ilra were about 20,000 strong; that was massive casualties, but the Draiths had lost around 25,000. General Oa's soldiers were prepared to die in this battle, but the Draiths weren't

There were no more enemies around Helandrian so he searched for other Ilraian soldiers he could help.

He found Daiez and General Oa surrounded by enemy soldiers. Oa could hold his own for a while, being a Devildealer, but Daiez wasn't as lucky.

Helandrin ran as a burly Draith soldier slashed at Oa, who blessedly blocked with his shield.

Helandrian stabbed him with his trident 5 times, killing him in the blink of an eye.

The remaining soldiers cowered before the three of them. Helandrian was tempted to let them run, but Oa killed them before he could object.

The three let out a breath of relief, but it was too soon to celebrate. WarThunder rose from his previous battle and flew towards them.

This was bad.

As soon as he landed, WarThunder held his hammer forward. He was going to take all of them on.

They attacked him all at once in a formation unique to the Ilra, but it was no use.

Both Helandrin and Oa were Devildealers, yes. But this was their worst match-up.

Water conducts electricity, and they were taking on the strongest Stormforger in centuries.

The three clashed for some time, until WarThunder grunted, rose in the air, and smashed down.

Helandrin looked up, dazed. Oa was dead. He had been trying to use an Arcane-enhanced attack, but the lightning had fried him alive.

Both Helandrin and Daiez looked around. The fighting was over.

They were the only two Ilraians left. But the Draiths were down to about 10,000 soldiers. Far too little to try an invasion. They'd done it. They'd saved Ilra!

Now, they could die with pride.

WarThunder lumbered towards them, hammer in hand, but stopped.

He looked around, realizing for the first time that they had won the battle.

He examined us from head to toe. "I won't take a life if it's not needed." He told us. "Take these men prisoner! They can be sold to the Yjraith!" He shouted at his remaining soldiers.

"I'm sorry for what you will live through, but know that this was my mercy."

.

.

.

2nd of Jirath, 1012 on the War calendar:

Helandrin woke with a start. The same cursed horn that signaled lunch also woke him in the mornings.

The slaves were given a few minutes in the morning to get ready; take a cold shower, and brush their teeth.

Immediately after the time ended, they were sent to the caves.

Helandrin didn't speak to Daiez much before the labor started; he was still a bit shaken up from the dream.

After lunch, Commander Tali came into the cave. Helandrian raised an eyebrow. It wasn't unusual for the slaves to see him, but it was somewhat rare.

"Listen up! You're master, Lord Akh is coming to check on production in a few days. Be prepared."

Helandrin got his food and turned to go sit down.

"Hey, soldier boy!" Tali called.

Helandrin turned.

"Maybe you can earn your freedom by entertaining Lord Akh with more of your fake stories." He joked.

Helandrin spit on his navy armor. Normally, he'd be smarter than that, but the dream had brought back some of his fighting spirit.

A weak laugh echoed inside of him. It was faint, so much so that he might have missed it if the room wasn't so quiet.

Tali's face bubbled with frustration.

"Look, brat, I haven't killed you yet because you're in good shape and entertaining. But if you pull any of your antics when Lord Akh is here? You'll be hanged, got it?"

A rage that Helandrin thought had left him long ago rose to the surface.

He glances at Daiez, who nodding. The distraction could be now.

Helandrin walked up to Tali.

"I don't tell fake stories. Do you know what they teach at the Ilraian military?"

"What do they teach?" Tali asked, sounding amused.

"How to throw a damn good punch," Helandrin replied before pulling back and smashing Tali's nose.

The older man stumbled back and fell to the ground as guards rushed into the cave to hold down Helandrin.

He managed to catch a glance at Daiez who had started running inside the cave, maybe he found a way out inside?

It didn't matter. Escaping meant you were a dead man, and Helandrin was probably going to get hanged.

Already, the guards were getting their whips ready. Helendrin prepared for the consequences of his actions.