Chapter 20

All that is done returns back

"Year 602 from the birth of the Slaine Theocracy, twenty-fourth..."

Valerian looked outside his tent, noticing that the first rays of dawn were beginning to appear on the horizon.

"Twenty-fifth day of Lower Earth Month. General Valerian Ein Obinie herein of the Army of Theocracy for the Suppression and Conversion of Elves to the One Truth extends his greetings to Cardinal Raymond Zarg Laurasan and Grand Marshal Gaius Copernicus Lavenza! As per protocol, I write this weekly report to update the Supreme Council on the progress of the war. I regret to inform you that we still cannot report any positive news. The Evasha Forest continues to be a place fraught with dangers and monsters, and our troops are proceeding with difficulty in this maze made of plants, where every nook and cranny, every crevice, hides within it dangers for our men. We continue to report reports of bark-covered giants that continue to be glimpsed in some of the deeper parts of the forest along with some long-eared ones. Although we ignore whether there is any purpose behind this unusual alliance, we feel it is unwise to leave this trail uninvestigated. We hope that the arrival of the Holocaust Scriptures, as we were promised, will bring a reversal to this stalemate. Moreover..."

Valerian observed the pen he held in his hands. He wondered if it was appropriate for a man in his position to add in an official report what were mere impressions devoid of any real evidence.

"... A bad feeling has been gripping us for months. Not only has the unusual presence of undead been ascertained for months, but some of the forest lords turn out to be unexpectedly quiet. Some of the areas that our scouts had indicated as the territory of those mighty creatures have for weeks turned out to be characterized by a placid, almost surreal calm. This is probably just some meaningless coincidence, but we still feel it is only fair to warn the Council of this particular situation.

We pay our respects, pending new instructions. Until then, we will continue to carry out our duties with the utmost seriousness and self-sacrifice.

Glory to the Six Great Gods!"

The general reread the letter a couple more times, looking for any errors. When he was satisfied, he enclosed it in an envelope with the utmost care.

'And now, let's begin the day.'

After leaving his temporary abode, even though he had now spent more time there than in his own real home, he began his usual tour of inspection of the camp.

The sun had not yet risen inside, but the men of the Theocracy were already bright and snappy, accomplishing their assigned tasks with no delay.

On seeing him come out of the tent, three young men, whose ages could not have exceeded twenty, walked quickly toward him.

"General Obinie, good morning!" They said in unison.

"Good morning to you." Valerian returned the greeting, bringing a hand to his head to shield himself from the early morning light. "How are things going, Hadrian, Flavius, Marcus?"

"Splendidly, sir," Hadrian replied, placing a steaming cup of coffee in the older man's hands.

Valerian savored the drink slowly, letting its beneficial effects ease the tiredness he felt after a sleepless night.

"Have the problems with the supply lines been fixed?"

"Yes, sir. A select troop led by Lieutenant Ethelo got rid of the spriggans that were hitting the roads connecting our camp with the Theocracy."

In responding, Flavius adjusted the round glasses that kept dropping on his nose. That plump, rounded air they gave him contrasted with the efficiency with which he directed his subordinates. "Obviously, they will remain stationed in those areas for some time to make sure there are no other possible disturbances."

"Perfect. Come, let's walk."

Only by taking a morning walk could his mind come into full function. Every step he took was slowed down by crowds of men approaching to pay their respects or to inform him about the new course of the war.

"Sergeant Marracosta's troops have just returned, they are making their report right now."

"Some men are complaining about lack of action. We should create more teams to send out to scout."

"As for church services, some of the priests who were supposed to arrive from the Theocracy are late. Shall we use some clerics to make up for their lack in the meantime?"

Valerian listened intently to everything that was reported to him, instructing his assistants to record what he thought was most important, so that he could review them more calmly later.

"What a lovely day!" Indeed, the water Goddess seemed to have blessed them with a beautiful day. A welcome change after the dreariness of recent weeks.

They arrived in a secluded part, where some cages had been set up to temporarily house some of the breeds captured during their excursions.

Vegetal boars, Gigahorn elks, amomongi, colo-colo, and lots of others. The Evasha Forest was a haven for all scholars of magical beasts, fauna, flora, and other creatures that could not be brought back into those classifications.

Most importantly, there were their hated enemies. In many of the cages, hidden and frightened, dull-eyed and lifeless, some figures who at first glance could have been mistaken for ordinary humans trembled in terror at the sight of their tormentors.

"Marcus, were these elves subjected to the usual procedure?"

The young man looked coolly at their captives, pointing to the area where a pair of pointed ears once towered. "Each of them has undergone our treatment. Tonight, they will be handed over to one of our teams who will transport them to one of the nearest slave markets."

Valerian nodded, observing a pair of women and men whose features were decidedly pleasing. "It looks like some of them will be able to fetch us a fair amount of money. Well, you can never have enough when you're at war."

Of all the secondary activities used to finance their army, the slave trade was by far the most profitable. The Theocracy had an absolute monopoly on that commerce. Coupled with the fact that the elves were an incredibly long-lived race and, in some cases, even endowed with magical powers, it allowed the merchants of the Theocracy to sell their 'product' at decidedly exorbitant prices, ensuring a steady inflow of coins.

A luxury that very few could afford, even among the humans of the Theocracy itself.

Valerian observed a mother clutching as tightly as she could an infant, probably her son. A fleeting thought led him to reflect that, in all likelihood, they would be separated once they were sold. Very few families managed to stay together in captivity.

That distraction ceased as quickly as it had occurred.

When he had enlisted, he almost felt pity for those poor creatures, victims of a ruler who had triggered a conflict only on a whim. But now that time had passed, and his heart had learned to harden.

"There have come some requests for materials from the Ministry of Magic Research, if I'm not mistaken. Hadrian, see that they are delivered as soon as possible to our couriers."

"Will do, sir."

Each of the three strategists was an outstanding assistant; they would have no trouble making their way up the ranks. In fact, it was not hard to imagine that one of them would one day take his place.

Valerian, after all, was getting old. And his job did not just consist of taking carefree walks and arranging a few deliveries like any other delivery boy.

There was a much more depressing part to his duties.

After finishing his usual round of inspection, he returned to his quarters along with his three right arms.

"Like every beginning of the week, bring me the casualty count." He ordered, as he sat down in the chair that had remained attached since that morning to his mahogany desk.

Flavius pulled out from among the many papers in his hand a small report, which he quickly handed to the general.

"Fourteen dead this week. Two paladins, three clerics, four divine casters, three archers, and two warriors," Valerian reflected aloud. Fourteen casualties. Fourteen young men or women would not return to their families. "Tell the reporter's department to prepare letters to inform their loved ones. Let them extol their deeds before they die, detailing how heroic their sacrifice was. Even if they were to inflate the truth a little. Do we understand each other?" Some minor tweaking was justified if it served to bring comfort to those who had lost their loved ones.

"Perfectly, sir!" The three replied in one voice.

Valerian sighed. That task was also done. But the fatigue was still evident on his face.

"Is something troubling you, general?" Marcus asked, concerned.

"No, it's nothing. It's just that..." the man moistened his lips as he tried to put his thoughts in order. "I'm old. I've lost interest in leading men to their deaths."

"Don't say that," Hadrian tried to console him. "You are still young. I am sure you will lead us for many more years."

"Perhaps you are right. And that's exactly what worries me."

"Every one of our soldiers is more than satisfied to be under your command, General!" Flavius exuded that confidence typical of youth, which for the old military man was only a distant memory. "They die in happiness, knowing that they are fighting for an ideal greater than themselves."

Was it the truth?

"During peaceful times, we mourn one's passing for many days. During times of war, we are gleeful over ten thousand dead for many years."

The three looked at him puzzled, wondering what he was talking about.

"It's just the words of a previous Cardinal," Valerian explained to them. "Nothing important, but lately I find myself thinking about it more than once."

" You're just tired, sir."

"Would you like us to take care of the rest of the day's assignments?"

"That wouldn't be a problem, there's not much else left to do."

"Nono, I'm fine," he reassured them with a half-smile. "It's almost lunchtime. Why don't you have lunch with me? We can discuss the next strategies."

The strategists gladly accepted his proposal. After they had gone out so they could call the subordinates in charge of preparing food, Valerian was left alone.

'Maybe they are right. I've been too stressed lately. I could take a leave of absence for a few days. See my family again. I wonder how my mother is. And the little ones...how grown up they must be. Yes, that wouldn't be a bad idea.'

As he continued to caress those restful thoughts, he heard the sounds of footsteps tapping the earth outside his tent.

Intrigued, he stepped out of his quarters to try to understand what the commotion was all about.

"What's going on?"

No one answered his question. It took longer than expected before a paladin bearing the insignia of the water Goddess satisfied his curiosity.

"There is an intruder, sir."

"... An intruder?" Now that was a surprise. He could not remember an intruder since the days of... No, he could not recall a time when someone had managed to penetrate the camp since he had begun his military career in the Evasha Forest.

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"Who or what is it?"

The paladin looked embarrassed as sweat dripped profusely from his forehead.

"An elf, sir."

"An... elf? A single elf?" The general asked incredulously, a bad feeling beginning to peep into his thoughts.

"He says he wants to talk to you."

"... Where is he now?"

"At the entrance."

"...Did he enter through the main gate?"

"Yes..."

"Take me to him."

If what they had reported to him was true, only one person could have the audacity to appear before an army of the Theocracy as if nothing had happened.

The bad feeling was beginning to turn into a certainty.

When he arrived, at least a hundred men lay lifeless on the ground. Just as many, if not more, had gathered in front of the mysterious intruder.

Even if he had not been wearing that crown of thorns on his head, or had not given off such a majestic aura as to overshadow the sun itself, Valerian would have had no doubt who this mysterious elf was.

Decem Hougan. The King of the Elves.

He was not as the old general had imagined him. He was so young. Not like Valerian, who was beginning to lose count of the wrinkles on his face.

That visage with perfect features, those irises that shone like diamonds set in jewels of pure gold. That lusty physique and that body devoid of imperfections.

Was he the monster that had populated the nightmares of him and his soldiers for so many years? He looked so ... ordinary.

Throughout his career, he had seen countless members of his race bear a vague resemblance to him. The man had to admit to himself that he was a little disappointed. Was it someone so commonplace that they had been fighting for all that time?

A far cry from that image of terror that his superiors had painted in their descriptions of the ultimate goal of that hundred-year war.

Whatever his impression had been, he still could not afford to take the matter under advisement.

"Are you in charge here?" It was Decem who started to talk first, irritated by the silence that, in his opinion, was now becoming unbearable.

"...Yes, I am." Valerian was trying to analyze the best course to take. In all, there were fifty thousand soldiers stationed in that camp at the moment. Fifty thousand.

It was an impressive number. But would it be enough? Of this, the first-in-command of the Theocracy was not so sure.

"I ask you to forgive me if I started entertaining some of your men," the elf said, pointing to the corpses surrounding him. What disregard for human life. How could he kill all those people without feeling a modicum of remorse? "I am sure, however, that this will not be a problem for our negotiations. Right?"

"... Right." Valerian swallowed a bitter bite. But this was no time to let easy grudges get the best of him. His soldiers were as tense as he was, but he kept trying to keep calm. "What kind of negotiations are we talking about?"

"I just want what has been taken from me to be returned. My daughter, whom you humans have so kindly raised for me over the years. It is time for our family to be reunited." The elf shot an icy glance at those present. The fearless hearts of the Theocracy's paladins and spellcasters for a moment were seized with despondency, despite having cast spells such as [Heart's Lion] to keep their nerves steady. Valerian, too, found himself dazed, as an oppressive pressure began to sap his confidence. "Don't you also find it right for a father to embrace his daughter again after such a long time?"

"Of course..." Unlike his men, who looked at each other confusedly trying to decipher who the elf king was talking about, the general had no doubt who the object of the man's desire was.

An old story, which only a small number within the Theocracy knew. A secret granted only to a select few, of which Valerian himself ignored most of the details.

"So, do you agree with me?" Decem was satisfied, indeed elated. "What joy. This saves me a great deal of time."

"It is not for me to make decisions on this matter," Valerian began to explain, carefully weighing the words to use so as not to infuriate that monster. "I can only refer your wishes to the Supreme Council, which will make the final decision. I ask you to wait for their response."

The king did not seem to shine in intelligence. That he had shown up here alone, after all, might have turned out to be fortunate. The plan that was beginning to form in his mind was to stall for time, avoiding any direct conflict with false promises, while the Cardinals would have prepared a special team using Scripture members to attack him by surprise. There was only a need to stall.

"I see." Decem was strange. He kept running his chin between his index finger and thumb, while his mind seemed lost in thought. "Point me to your messenger, then. So that I may know who will bring my request to your ridiculous priests."

"I will arrange to choose the appropriate man as soon as possible," Valerian replied, already savoring the victory. It had been easy, perhaps too easy. "In the meantime, why don't we agree on a place to meet again so we don't waste time when we get the answer?"

"I think there's been a misunderstanding..." Upon hearing those words, the general was enveloped by a mixture of fear and despair, although he could not understand why. "I asked you to point me to your messenger so that I would know who to spare. He alone will see the dawn of a new day. I am sorry." The tone of his voice did not seem to express displeasure; on the contrary. There was no doubt that he was amused.

All present fell silent. That statement uttered with such confidence would have turned out to be madness if it came out of anyone else's mouth. But when it was the elf ruler who said it, it appeared tremendously real.

"I beg your pardon, but I don't think I quite understood," Valerian prayed to the Six Gods that there had been a miscommunication. Perhaps, in the ancient language of the elves, those words had another meaning. "But did you just say you're going to kill us all?"

"Exactly."

"Everyone in this camp?"

"Maybe some will be able to escape me. But you cannot expect me to crush one by one all the ants that stand in my path. Even the most skilled gardener cannot expect to eliminate all the insects that infest his garden."

He was serious. The strongest army in the region was only a minor inconvenience for the man. And worst of all, Valerian had no problem believing him. How could he have thought that being was... normal?

"So? If you don't decide quickly, I will personally take care of selecting the 'chosen one'. You fanatics really like that word, don't you?"

Decem smiled. That devilish grin was the most disturbing thing the old soldier had ever seen in his long life. It was an affront itself to the Gods and a mockery of everything the men of the Theocracy believed in.

Their religion and faith were merely the object of that madman's derision. Did he believe that they had devoted their entire lives to some kind of lie?

Was this how it was going to end, then? The fate of the Theocracy would be written that day, and Valerian was the main actor in that farce.

The general began to back away. When the battle broke out, he could not afford to be overwhelmed immediately, or the army would be on a collision course.

Decem kept looking at him, waiting for his response. When he realized it would never come, he merely noted with disappointment his refusal. "So, is this your choice? Don't tell me I didn't warn you. You could have died without suffering if you had listened to me."

Valerian was already about to start running, as he accumulated all the martial arts he knew to increase his speed. His soldiers were already getting into position, ready to sacrifice their lives to shield him.

But...

"General Obinie!" Marcus' voice. The boy was rushing toward him. He was dripping with blood, although he did not seem to have a single wound. His straw-colored hair was completely covered with a scarlet liquid, making it unrecognizable.

"What's going on?"

"We're being attacked!"

"I know that. I..." He turned around and noticed that Decem was still in place, looking at him scoffingly like a court jester. "I was talking to the elf king."

"Elves?" His strategist was stunned. When he realized what was happening, fear began to paint his face. "It's not elves that are attacking us. It's them, sir."

"They who?"

"The lords of the forest."

And that's when Valerian understood. He was not the one who was buying time. From the beginning, he had fallen into the trap of the one he had thought he could fool.

Aware of his opponent's reputation he had believed that the king would never bother to take anyone else with him. And the lords of the forest, to boot. All the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.

"Damn you!" He vented his frustration on his rival. But the latter did not even dignify him with a glance. Instead, he continued to look tauntingly at the men who had circled around him but was unable to take an initiative. He was inviting them to take part in the dance, but no one dared to move.

"We must escape as soon as possible!" Marcus tried to bring him back to his senses. Valerian tried to calm down. He had his men to think about now.

"How many enemies are there?"

"Seven. A leslie and a Galatian Byssus attacked the eastern part of the camp. Our experts with the fire element are trying to hold them off, but I don't think they will be able to resist. An amomongi and a vegetal boar, on the other hand, have penetrated from the west, hitting our paladin orders. A colo-colo and a quinotaur, are attacking the walls to the south. So far we are holding, but I don't think we will succeed much longer."

"A quinotaur? Don't those creatures only live in the water?"

"Not this one, sir."

"What about the other two? What about..." Before he could finish speaking a roar broke the air in two.

A dragon covered in bright green scales, reminiscent of jade, and a griffin whose size was far greater than any specimen Valerian had ever seen in his life were plying the skies.

"A dragon? There's a bloody dragon?"

"That's why I told you we must hurry, sir. We won't hold out much longer."

"What happened to Flavius and Hadrian?"

"They..."

He understood. What a blow to the Theocracy. But this was no time to let despondency take over. He had to be able to save as many lives as possible before ...

"Behemoth!"

The king had decided to take part in the fun. The earth shook. His men tried to stop what was an inevitable fate.

The strange creature came to life. And it began to run. Fun? No, frightening. His arms extended, bringing back to the mother earth from which he was born those who foolishly tried to attack him. It spun like a top, crushing those who were sucked into its movement. A gust of wind began to tousle Valerian's hair, which by now had found no solution but to flee.

The creature jumped. A handful of men were heading toward their position, trying to get their general to safety. They were crushed, and a crater with their remains was the only grave they could get.

Valerian saw that monster made of earth and rock begin to rampage. His right hand smashed through skulls, letting blood soak the virgin earth. The left hand was flinging all the unfortunate within its radius, breaking bones as if they were made of sand. A few times, the hands would join to form a hammer that would come down like an avalanche on his men.

Swords were useless. Spears were useless. Arrows were useless. Magic was useless.

Paladins collapsed, magic casters perished, clerics died. Faith was vanishing.

The man felt himself aging decades in a few minutes. His breath could no longer hold. All those years of work were going up in flames in mere moments. The camp was now lost. The elves' cages had been opened, and even their old prisoners, those who had not attempted to escape at least, had decided to take part in the battle.

The screams of terror from what had once been the world-shaking army had merged with the sounds of nature in an ode to death.

'Are we saving the world? Or are we taking it by force?

Are we saving people? Or are we hurting them?

Are we giving our lives as gifts to the gods? Or do we foolishly lose them to a mocking fate over which we have no control?

Are we blindly faithful? Or just stupid?

No, we are none of these things.

None of this. Because ... our twisted morality has already destroyed everything.'

"Everything finished. Just like that, in an instant."

Valerian wanted to laugh. Their sins had pulled out the sword and stabbed them, just at the moment when they thought they were above all judgment.

"Marcus? Marcus?" Where had he gone? Ah, of course. Dead.

Why run away again? By now he had no hope left.

"Any last words?" It was him. The king of the elves. He was to blame. Him. And no one else. All his fault.

"The guard dies, but doesn't surrender!" To fulminate with such a word the enemy who kills you is to win. The fracture of a chest for outrage, the overflow of agony bursting. That's all he had left.

"Humph, you fool."

These were the last words Valerian Ein Obinie, valiant general of the Slaine Theocracy, fifty years of age, heard.

Upper Water month, 1st day, 8.00

Antilene woke up that day, ate breakfast, washed, and dressed. She arrived at her station on time, as she did every day. Nothing significant happened during the day.

Upper Water month, 2nd day, 8.00

Antilene that day woke up, had breakfast, washed, and dressed.

She arrived at her station on time, as she did every day.

A few words were exchanged with Rufus.

"Do you think anything interesting will happen today?"

"Who can tell but the Gods."

"You always say that."

"Because it's true."

"How boring..."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Tell me a story. About some previous members of the past Scriptures."

Nothing of note happened during the day. It was fun, nonetheless.

Upper Water month, 3rd day, 8.00

Antilene woke up that day. She was not very hungry, so she skipped breakfast. After washing and dressing, she headed to her station, as she did every day.

Aeneas in the afternoon came to see her.

"How did the last mission go?"

"Fine, there were no major complications."

"What did you deal with this time?"

"A colony of man-forms was starting to cause problems in the Empire."

"Were they strong?"

"Not so much, but they were numerous. It took us hours to search from top to bottom the dungeon where they were stationed. Ah, they had a couple of champion specimens that were insidious. But well, weaker than our members anyway. I could almost have stayed home, honestly. At least Windstride had fun torturing the little ones."

"I see. How is the search for a bride going?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Antilene laughed. That day, too, passed without anything particularly worth remembering.

Upper Water month, 4th day, 8.00

Antilene woke up. She was very hungry. She lost so much time eating that she arrived late. Fortunately, no one noticed. The girl read a couple of pages from a book she had brought with her.

'The heroine exists only as a function of the male protagonist. It's not very compelling, this tale. Well, let's see how it ends at least.'

The ending was even more disappointing than the middle part. Once again, a day to forget.

Upper Water month, 5th day, 8.00

Antilene arrived early. She did not want to repeat the last day's mistake, even though she knew no one would scold her. It simply didn't seem right to take advantage of the situation.

Rufus, however, noticed that unexpected advance.

"Why did you come earlier than usual today?"

"No particular reason."

"Is it perhaps because you arrived a few minutes late yesterday?"

"Did you notice?"

"Of course."

"And why didn't you say anything?"

"What was I supposed to say? It's not like much has changed."

"I suppose you're right."

"Antilene?"

"Yes?"

"I'm proud of you."

The half-elf blushed slightly. That day had not been so bad.

Upper Water month, 6th day, 8.00

By now you may have guessed that Antilene also woke up that day, got ready, ate breakfast, and headed to her usual location. Today, however, she did not stay in the same spot all day.

In the afternoon the Cathedral of Darkness gymnasium became her second home. The girl spent so many hours there that it was only when the sweat had reached unbearable levels that she decided it was time to return.

It had not been a bad day, but not a memorable one either. One like many others would have been the correct way to describe it.

Upper Water month, 7th day, 10.00

That was her day off. So Antilene decided to sleep in late. She took advantage of the beautiful day to have breakfast in what had become one of her favorite stores. A childish voice greeted her with warmth.

"Hello, Marguerite. How are you?"

"Aunt Nazaire! Do you want to see the new puppet show I've designed?"

"Nothing would make me happier!"

"Then make yourself comfortable while I get everything ready! You will be blown away!"

"Who taught you these words?"

"You!"

Now that was a day worthy of being remembered through the years.

Upper Water month, 8th day, 8.00

Antilene woke up that day. There was something strange in the air, but the girl did not pay much attention to it. After finishing her usual routine, she was about to go back to her room.

On her way there, Aeneas stopped her to report some news.

She smiled.