A page of history was written in these forgotten lands. The words upon the worn and torn and the language written upon each page was unrecognizable, but there, a story was held for those who dared to turn the pages and read into the story held within.
Within the story, a serene picture of an unforeseen miasma coated the sky blocking out the heavenly rays of the sun that tried to beam down unto the unmoving grounds below. There upon the ground were the bodies of more than thirty-thousand men that had collected in the mud and blood that scarred the dirt. Below and above this was the result of what was believed to be a long-forgotten war that had only been mentioned in passing to those lucky enough to hear about it from anyone that lived near the battlefields.
As time passed and the planet healed, the whispers of what had happened faded into obscurity, and the Gods that oversaw both sides faded away from reality leaving no one to understand why a sudden collection of purple-pink trees sprung from the ground. All around holy fruits were scattered along the lands, and the animals were more than plentiful; it was paradise, and nature fought to protect those she had given life to.
In the age of man, a lone human approached the center of this paradise, a single tree that had grown so tall that it was home to more than 500 species high in its branches and canopy it casted over the whole forest that had suddenly grown around it. This man spoke with the tree for many years hearing the endless tales of who such a place came to be. Upon speaking its final words, the tree shed a single pink leaf and began to wither away taking the paradise with it. As the man watched, the leaf he was given never left his grasp as it was the only thing to survive, and with a renewed purpose with the knowledge he had gained, he brought his people to these lands and gave birth to a new nation, one that would honor the tree’s commands.
Though his people flourished in the bare lands created a new allowing for civilization to take hold, his rule would be challenged by a single hero from a distant land so far away. By now he had grown into a wise old man that led his people into a Golden Age, and now he was to kneel before the hero and provide for a civilization that was not forged with his bare hands. As the world encroached on his territory, and threatened his people, he made one final order to evacuate the forests and golden plains leaving only himself and four others to halt the advance of the world.
As an army of unknown numbers approached him and his men, they resisted for over three months allowing his people to escape into the distant mountains to the north. One-by-one as his party fell, he was the last to fall to the blade of a single man that represented the combined alliance. Even as he wished for the man’s name, he was brutally executed and left to be reclaimed by the nature around him. His memories held by his people began to fade, and the truthful paradise he wished to create simply forgotten.
Led by one of their own, the survivors found new lands to rebuild and forge a nation so great that an empire would be formed from the ashes of paradise. To prevent another disaster from ever happening again, and to correct the mistakes of the past, the people gathered and swore to the first Emperor that they would carry on the legacy of the tree’s teachings, and each man, woman and child swore an oath to uphold the values that their former leader once held.
Within these new lands, the Zivaland Empire was formed. Grasping new territories to the north, the power, culture, and influence such people held rapidly achieved new heights, yet the teachings once taught by the great tree never faded and became enshrined alongside the man-turned-legend that formed an entire civilization. As their grasp slowly returned to their former territories newly marked the “Frontier”, the world once again stood firm as they rejected the Empire and all it had to offer. Everything that had been building up to this single moment suddenly revealed their ugly heads as a conflict that encapsulated the entire globe erupted from a single spark.
As the armies of the world marched upon the Empire, only a single person would dare gather the strength of the people, the Crown Princess Emilia Lyn Ando, gathered the support of what the world labeled to be “monsters” and “demons” by her side. With the strength of the people, she marched against the ever-growing alliance and stopped them in their tracks on the front lines, while her generals provided expertly made plans to ensure the Empire’s survival.
The resistance against the world was going well, well enough for a desperate response from a newly formed kingdom just south of the frontier. A single man marched across the lands of the frontier with only two to fill his party. He was a “Hero”, and he lived up to his name as he began to dismantle to strategic defense the Princess and her people had formed within the Frontier. As the unbreakable wall that protected the Empire began to collapse, the head of the “Hydra” was cut off as Princess Emilia’s family, and her nations Imperial Court were assassinated by the very hero that led the world to victory.
As the wrath of the people became uncontrollable, the world was forced out of both the Empire and the Frontier as the once great nation began to collapse from the inside. Falling to the blade of the hero, Princess-turned-Empress Emilia laid dead in her palace as the long-winded hero made his exit from the world in an unknown location within the Frontier.
Fractured and divided, the remaining governmental organizations that survived as the “Month of Fallen Souls” gathered those that agreed with differentiating ideologies and forms of government and built three new nations from the ashes of the Empire. Soon enough those ideologies would clash, and a seven-year civil war would begin that had cost the lives of over four-million lives. As the civil war came to a slow end, fractured nations would enter a stretch of peace for five years.
Soon enough the three powers met once more and broke into a war unlike ay seen within the history of mankind. Intelligence agencies. Spies. Covert Agents. Special Operations. The world broke into a secret war as unknown men and women engaged with weapons of war unlike anyone had seen before. Magic, bullets, and chemicals. Over 1 million civilians and governmental personnel were killed within twenty years before an official agreement were made between the three nations.
Being re-born as a “Federation”, the governments worked together to unify and create a better world for their people as the threat beyond the Frontier began to grow once more.
Brown eyes scanned across the faded papers, unable to decipher what remained written in the long-forgotten journal. In the end it was a princess who read the story of another. How a single person could lead their own people…
Whatever history was to be recounted in this journal; it was the woman who dared to turn the next page that would realize that she would forge the letters of the next chapter and implant them into a single story that seemingly recounted the endless life of humanity…
High above the azure sky was brightened by the golden sun shedding its warmth on the cool wind that blew over the Federation during the early months of spring. Moving silently from her position of rest, the princess grasped the metal helmet sitting on a nearby table as her footsteps led her to a small staircase. In the space she occupied there were many rooms with their doors close, though she paid no mind as she continued to the top floor where she would take her post overlooking the expanse of the Frontier.
Stepping rhythmically as her short silver hair bobbed up and down, her shoes alerted the man currently on watch, Lieutenant Patterson. The young man had been watching the sprawling fields and hills with a pair of binoculars while he kept himself sane by eating the sandwich, he was lucky enough to make before the mission started two days ago. Looking over his shoulder while holding his sandwich in front of his mouth, the Lieutenant grumbled as he set down his squished bread and meat before rubbing his eyes and turning to the princess who was looking at him with an amused smile.
“They’re on the way.”
His hushed voice occupied the silent room as the princess looked towards a distant hill applying her magic to the front of her eyes causing a light pain she ignored. Black dots were scattered on the distant hill, and she could just barely make out the silhouettes of hundreds of men and their horses and carriages.
“Apparently, we’re supposed to march into that mess…”
The Lieutenant’s worries were shared with not only the princess, but the rest of her platoon that was scattered throughout the building preparing themselves for the contact scenario that was to happen within three hours. Placing her exposed hand against the wooden window ceil, her eyes wandered the distant lands and back towards the source of water they had traversed in the morning.
A faint smile not easily recognizable by the members of Taskforce Spare grew on her lips and a soft gaze formed within her usually focused eyes. Ridding herself of such feelings she turned back to the situation at hand, “What does the Major have planned?” Her voice grew as she voiced her mind; a question had grown inside of her since she first met Major William’s, but she never could find the proper time to find her answer until now.
Patterson tried to answer, yet no coherent words exited his mouth as he hummed over the possible realities that waited for him and the others. As he remained lost in all thoughts, the shuffling of footsteps behind the two attracted their attention like a white noise that was uncomfortable. Appearing out of the shaded stairwell, Lieutenant Ingrid looked around the corner and waved his hand as he provided the orders he was given with the tilt of his head and the inward motioning of his hand and fingers.
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Taking one last look towards the distant horizon where her people waited. Leccamardel remained in a state of apprehension as her feet moved to follow the two men back into the building. On the lower floors the familiar sound of the men speaking to each other sounded alien for just a moment as the red gem within the necklace Lecca had pulsed making her feel light-headed. Landing on the first floor, she looked around the room and spotted a free chair which she then occupied while the men remained standing around where she sat.
“Let’s begin.” Captain Oliver Thompson said moving towards an empty board with Major Williams.
In the cold, moist air, the group never moved as the Major withdrew a map and pressed it open against the board using two pins to hold it in place. “Three-hundred knights, soldiers, and horses.” He said in a low, gravelly voice. His face both held determination and uncertainty as he marked the nearby hills with a red pen he had in his vest.
“That’s three hundred of them against us sixteen.” Captain Thompson followed up putting emphasis on the numbers presented. “We have artillery support and a quick reaction force waiting for Lieutenant Ingrid’s signal, but by the time we use it, we may very well be killed.”
The teenagers present gulped in fear as only the blue-haired boy with glasses, and the boy named Yu dared to hide their reaction to the sudden reality Thompson spoke of. Breathing quietly, Lecca took note of the distressed emotions the teens were giving off as the Major finished marking the suspected enemy positions and turned around after placing a cap on his pen.
“Just a reminder: our mission is to establish a dialogue with these people. We’re trying to avoid all-out-war—Do I make myself clear?”
Responding to the high-ranking officer, both his own men, and Thompson’s responding accordingly, “Yes sir!”
Running his finger over a nearby flat plain, the Major held a firm gave as he went over the plan that was devised by over twenty officers from the separate branches of government within the Federation, “Our position is here; it’s imperative that we get to the contact point before tonight. All eyes will be on us, and I wouldn’t doubt that the OHFI has their teams stationed around the area.” He seemed convinced of his last sentence as Sergeant Malkovich raised his hand proposing a very valid question that was plaguing everyone’s mind since they left the forest.
“What are we going to do with the kids?” He asked looking at the four from the place he stood.
“Two staging points and a fallback line.” Taking his pen and drawing to lines on the hill behind the contact zone, the Major spoke swiftly as he put to rest any immediate concerns regarding the 1st Academy students, “Squadron one will be with the kids at the fallback line. Thompson, I want your men to split into two teams, one here, and the other will make contact.” He said making the men across from him tense at the suggestion.
It was no-brainer that a large group of armed men requesting an audience with the “enemy’s” commanding officer would draw both wary eyes and tense words but leaving four men completely exposed and vulnerable to possible hostile forces and their magic was something that even Thompson had a hard time stomaching as he recalled a distant memory that the wished not to remember.
Once again history repeated. Armed invaders stood ready, waiting for the order to proceed. No matter what time, what world, what reality, humanity would once again find themselves at the brink of war. Long gone were the sticks, stones, and swords of the past, now magic, rifles, and heavy ordinance waited to be used.
Ignoring the uneasy expressions painted across the room, the Major continued, “We need your expertise on dealing with the Kingdom Agent Araish.” Motioning his left hand towards his men, Lieutenant Ingrid stood up and removed an orange painted stick. He placed it on the table before the silver-haired agent and pushed it over letting it fall into her pale hands. “The signal flare, shoots an orange projectile in the air, that will call in the artillery barrage: I expect that you will use it only when the mission has failed.”
Rubbing her thumb over the semi-faded label on the flare as her eyes scanned over the fine printed words on the top of the cover protecting the projectile. The “yes sir.” She provided was faint, but it was more than enough for the Major to accept her response and silent declaration to use the device in her hands responsibly.
“Captain.” Stepping aside, Major Williams let Thompson step to the front as he let him pick the men that would be responsible for their roles within the mission.
Studying his men, the man took a short breath. “Lieutenant, Araish, Malkovich, Richard. You will all be responsible for communicating with the contacts. Myself, Baker, Randall, and Simon will be performing overwatch on your positions and setting up several positions of fire.” Remaining in place, the names called out looked out to each other as Thompson gave his order, “Fall outside in ten mikes. Dismissed.”
As the men began to move from where they stood, Lecca remained seated as she stared at the captain who watched only the men beside her that were a part of her fireteam. Corporal Richard adjusted his plate carrier as he was the only one who was wearing his gear outside of his rifle which laid against a wall beside him. “Swords no longer have a place on a battlefield.” Lecca spoke in a quiet voice. Though agreeing with her words, the men chose not to speak as they moved in unison to the bedroom which had been temporarily turned into a maintenance and storage area for the soldiers. Alone, she rose from her seat and slowly tied up her dirtied silver-hair. She could feel the dirt and mud cacked on her body and olive-drab clothes. It was now a familiar feeling. The final check she made on her body, she looked at the rifle sitting against the ground and with the snap of a finger, the very same lever-action rifle she had used at the beginning materialized from her palm and rested gently in her hands. Her eyes studied the white surface and golden embroidery; a quick breath escaped her lips as she let the rifle fade away into nothingness as she turned to gather her equipment within the bedroom.
Walking along the floor, the silver-haired princess stopped in her place when she heard a voice at the door.
“How long till I die?”
The first voice belonged to PFC Simon.
“What…?”
Mike spoke second.
“Apologies, Sergeant… I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Pakistan, Green. Those two things have been on your mind, haven’t they?”
Holding her breath, the time spent between the two felt like an eternity to Lecca.
“I won’t let it take my focus away from the mission, Sergeant.”
Mike sighed as he turned around and spotted the princess. With a semi-surprised expression, he responded to the Private First Class, “Good. We’ll need you for everything we do in the future.” The man rubbed his hand on his newly shaved face as the frustration throughout his body flooded out as he leaned against the wall with a drained expression and a fidgety body.
Eyeing the only gear he had left, Mike let out a shaky breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose and pressed his left hand against the wall to move towards his satchel, helmet, NODS, battle belt, rifle, and handgun, and his IFAK. Picking up his helmet and staring at the dirtied and torn cover atop the ballistic material, he turned it and rubbed his thumb over an exposed spot before he placed it on his head without another word.
“Mike…?”
Only sparing a glance, the man quickly moved as he equipped his gear beginning with his night optical device, then finishing with his battle belt. Before he picked up his rifle, he pulled out something that was given to him not three hours ago by Captain Thompson. In his palm laid a single burnt piece of paper, a photograph that was ruined when he was attacked in the Frontier seemingly so long ago.
Remaining where she stood, Lecca could just barely see a young woman with brown hair and Mike standing next to her. The woman looked like Mike leading the princess to presume that she was his sister. Not wanting to disturb the man, she looked away as he placed the burnt object back into the harness the OMFS had landed him.
“Promise me you won’t get killed out there?” He said releasing the loaded magazine from his handgun and inspecting it before slamming it back in.
Feeling the weight of Green’s handgun suddenly growing heavier on her hip, she nodded in return. “Okay.” Was all she could whisper. Not reacting, Mike turned around and walked back into the room as Thompson spoke to his team. Alone once more, the princess walked off towards the main entrance and placed her hand on the metal handle. Adjusting the leather holster, she proceeded forward while assuring the handgun was secure.
As the spring air pressed against her body, she looked in the distance where the soldiers of her kingdom marched slowly over the mountains. Her lips parted, and yet no words escaped as she moved silently to the front of the abandoned building she and the platoon had occupied. It wasn’t long before the fellow soldiers exited the room and split into their assigned fireteams. The four children had been split amongst the Major’s men for safety, which was something Lecca was unsure how to feel about.
“Well secure the area before we walk out to call out to them.” Walking up with her rifle in his left hand, Lieutenant Patterson handed her the wooden stock weapon as he scanned his eyes over the metal rifle within his hands.
“I suppose I will be doing most of the talking?” The princess asked hesitantly not knowing how her people would react to her presence.
Patterson raised an eyebrow at her as he let his hands fall next to his legs while his rifle hanged from its sling around his neck. “I thought only those in the castle knew of your identity as the princess? No one called out to you during our time in Bishmark. They seemed to only know you as the Chieftain.”
Biting her lip, she knew the Lieutenant was correct: Only those within the Royal Family, Royal Court, and high-ranking officers within the kingdom knew that she was the First-Born Princess. It would be a disaster to show herself to the soldiers and proclaim that she was a part of the royal family, when to them, she would be nothing more than a crazed woman from a foreign country speaking to them making impossible claims.
“Crossing that bridge is something that will happen no matter what happens.” Lecca admitted as she motioned for her fireteam to form around her as they moved to the horses resting nearby under several trees. Her horse waited with patience as she gathered her items still aboard the satchels mounted and placed the items unnecessary inside. All she had was her rifle, a single clip of ammo, and her necklace which allowed her to translate everything. “Mount your horses!” She called out to her men as she climbed onto her horse securing her rifle across the back of her olive-drab shirt.
Patting the holster on her hip, Thompson gave the order to proceed with the mission, “Move out!” He shouted making the princess snap the reigns making her horse move forward into a light gallop. As the wind brushed her hair and cooled her skin, all she could do was keep forward as she led her men into the unknown.
Publicly Available Information: Economic Power – The Federation of Zivaland:
Being the primary power north of the civilized lands, the Federation’s influence in the north-western hemisphere is grand and they survive through small trade with eastern islands also hidden from the rest of the world. They are self-sufficient and have grown their power for the last 50 years.
Major Industries: Automotives, Agricultural, Precious Metals, Petroleum, Pharmaceuticals, Magical Sciences.
Major Exports: Petroleum, Grains, Meats, Spices, Pharmaceuticals, Magical Sciences, Precious Metals, Military Technologies, Civilian Technologies.
Major Imports: Food Stuffs, Automotives, Magical Sciences, Avionic Technology, Common Metals.
Agriculture: Grains, Barley, Wheat, Cotton, Oats, Corn, Hay
Currency: Federation Gold Dollar, 1 Dollar = 20.13/ounce (Est. 1440).
Gross Domestic Product: 23.9 billion FGD (Est. 1400).