Arakiel met with his commanding staff – most notably Shahar, Basam and the siblings Akili and Aisha – on the next day, discussing the way forward or more specifically, how to best conquer the northern duchy on which they had fairly excellent intel thanks to Finna and other members of this duchy’s nobility. In addition, his own scouts hadn’t been idle for the past weeks.
The capital city and ruling seat of Duke Mardut lay right next to the sole grand stone bridge that crossed the Moli, a rather massive river that had many offshoots which divided the duchy of Maduts’ Crossing even further. It ended in the lake called Molioch that more or less occupied a vast stretch of the easternmost portion of the Middle Kingdom, going all the way over into the actual true Boundary.
The Moli split the duchy into many smaller regions, most of which were of no great importance for his plan, but its three towns and the capital city were. Each of these settlements had been built along the great divide as one might also describe the great river.
The three towns, two of which were ruled by their own counts, were south of the river while the capital city itself had been the only settlement built on the northern shores. It lay in the upper north-western part of the duchy.
Unfortunately, if he wanted to march an army into the Middle Kingdom’s heartland from the south-east, he’d need to go all the way up to and through Maduts’ Crossing in order to cross the Moli on foot at which point he could follow the river west until it eventually led into the Three Rivers, the royal capital. The city acted as a kind of gateway, really.
A great swamp lay in between the Moli and the aptly-called Crescent Lake which thoroughly cut the Middle Kingdom’s heartland off from more or less the entire south. That lake was apparently the end of one of the three great rivers that flowed through the royal capital.
It made options for the Smokeless Host’s advancement rather limited, but there were still some options he could take, yet he’d need to secure that bridge unless he wanted a few water mages to sink any ferries or boats he used to cross the river at one of the towns since the Smokeless Host lacked their own – and Shahar’s wives were honestly incapable compared to the Middle’s counterparts. He needed Water Evokers, of which his army had none.
The former duchess of Scitathswood had described its northern neighbor as a region of rivers, streams, lakes, swamps and the occasional patches of exceedingly fertile soil which provided the entire kingdom with valuable medicinal ingredients, from herbs over insects to innards of creatures and the like.
Its main trading good next fish was – surprisingly, poultry. He had actually eaten quite a bit of Madut chicken and turkey over the past weeks and during that time, he had learned that Aurora straight up refused to eat any kind of meat that used to have wings once, no matter how well the cook had prepared it. She didn’t condemn anyone that ate such meat, she just flat-out refused without giving any kind of reason other than claiming that she wouldn’t like it.
Not only had Arakiel never noticed, he also found it a little odd since poultry was by far the best and healthiest meat one could get their teeth on. Thankfully, he could always bribe his aurea with anything that had dough, butter and sugar in it, which was exactly what he had done on those days.
Still, it baffled him – and kind of made him aware of the fact that he knew precious little about some of his seraphim’s and beloved’s antics. She had been with him for nearly five years at this point and he didn’t know what kind of food she disliked?
He’d need to spend some actual time with her once all of this was over and he could move freely in Kalanaar again.
On a slightly different subject… if Finna spoke true, then Duke Mardut’s access to fighters and mages was also fairly limited at the moment and now that Arakiel and his army had the permission, he intended to march north as quickly as possible. According to intel, they would mostly likely face more water mages than anything else which could be a problem as they tended to grow exponentially stronger if they were near bodies of water, but it wasn’t as though he had a lot of options.
According to his advisors, they still needed one more day to finish up preparations which was acceptable. If everything went according to plan, the Smokeless Host could depart on the fourth Forgotten Day and they’d reach the duchy proper on the first day of the new year.
The only remaining point of contention concerned the newly acquired slaves. Basam and Shahar suggested that they should be brought along while the others – Arakiel included – rightfully pointed out that it’d bloat the army’s size to over a thousand. Not only would it quite literally eat into their supply storage, but it’d slow the Smokeless Host down when they needed to act relatively fast now.
With the sultans’ armies approaching from the south, Arakiel suggested that they leave behind a small token force here in Scitathswood that would then ensure proper order for the time being. To reduce the chance of riots, they’d take some easily transportable high profile prisoners and a few healthy hostages with them.
The commanding staff argued for over an hour on the subject until Arakiel enforced his decision as the Executor Djinni. It was accepted, albeit with some begrudging sentiment.
Later that day, he informed his latest additions that they would stay behind and watch over the keep for the time being as he had honestly no use for them. Only Nyanna would join him while Ezekiel left her younger sisters behind since he didn’t want the girls to brave the cold days and freezing nights.
To Arakiel, he just seemed to have no further interest in the girls now that he focused most of his attention onto Alannah and Selene.
He didn’t spar with the other Mortal Ascendant on that evening for he had no flame left, but they did have a joint training session with their Middle nobles after which he sought out Mellia, who had barely left her chambers for the past weeks except when they had their infrequent evening walks.
His little sister had devoured any piece of written paper she got her hands on in some sudden mad obsession that he still hadn’t quite figured out – but she claimed that there might be more to this plane than was initially obvious. Something about old folklore and some comments that the former duchess had made about Queen Ceara.
Just like the previous two times, she denied his request to accompany him on a stroll, claiming that she had to study a few more texts if they intended to leave soon. Furthermore, she requested access to Duke Mardut’s archives and more importantly, the royal archives in the Three Rivers which had to hold some kind of clue for her to pursue.
Arakiel left her to her own devices. In a way, he was happy that she found something to keep her occupied.
Before he finally went to bed, he had a member of the keep’s staff cut his hair as a means to properly greet the new year, the new cycle.
The Smokeless Host of about 600 people including retinue and prisoners left Scitathswood on the fourth Forgotten Day, marching northward in a loose formation, with the planeswalkers once again leading the way as the tip of the spear.
The weather played nicely for the most part. While the sky had covered up with grey and white clouds and it snowed so very lightly, the road itself was more than manageable to traverse due to the lack of wind and the relatively cold but steady temperature. The snow reached roughly to the ankles but it didn’t seem as though it’d melt any time soon.
If the temperatures were to rise for too long, it’d become a genuine problem and although he doubted that the two-dozen or so Middles they had questioned prematurely agreed on a lie, it was still a possibility he had to keep in the back of his mind.
If the road they walked on turned into mud, they’d pretty much be stuck.
For now, however, that was hopefully a horror scenario that wouldn’t come to pass any time soon.
The march continued without any major obstacles for the time being.
On the midday of the fifth Forgotten Day, Arakiel’s army reached the border of the duchies of Scitathswood and Marduts’ Crossing which was, aptly, an offshoot of the Moli. It was frozen over, but the layer of ice was thin still and since there was a decently-sized wooden bridge, the army easily crossed the large stream with foot and card.
The surrounding landscape had once again turned flat, with the forests winning the distribution over fields quite handily and although he occasionally saw traces in the snow all the way in the distance, they hadn’t met any animals or travelers so far, which was to be expected.
The Smokeless Host wasn’t exactly being subtle and in all honesty, it seemed next to impossible to repeat the feats they had done for the earlier part of the invasion.
The Middle rulers might not expect him to show up this soon, but they were certainly making preparations that he would show up at some point.
Or rather, his army of over 400 warriors that were quite eager to spill some Middle blood again.
The new year rolled over with little fanfare and this minor plane didn’t even celebrate the occasion. In the Eternal Cities, the five Forgotten Days were seen as a time for introspection and barely anyone left their home, instead preparing for the week-long grand feast that was the Turn of the Cycle which would start today, on the Darkday of the 1st Loss. Right now, all the great five would welcome the new year with grand feasts and even grander spectacle. The god-in-grey’s church not only supported these festivities, they were one of the major organizers and had laid the groundwork for the festivities and the meaning behind this most special of weeks.
On the first Day of Dark, the mortals drove it back with light and merriment.
On the first Day of Reflection, the mortals silently contemplated the ambitions that they had for the current year.
On the first Day of Opportunity, the mortals made the first step to see their ambitions realized.
On the first Day of Initiative, the mortals competed against one another to see how capable they were in achieving their goals.
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On the first Day of Power, some mortals triumphed over others, having done the first major step in reaching their desired destination.
And then, on the first day of Light, all the Eternal Cities banished any sources of light, be they artificial or natural to call a reminder to mind: fear the void.
It was a common saying in the Eternal Cities, whether to greet or to say goodbye – a phrase as Arakiel had treated it for the longest time. Most thought the ‘Void’ an entity that stood in opposition to the Transcended, but that was most certainly not the case.
No, he had wandered a voidfallen plane in order to become a Traveler, an entire plane – a world – plunged into eternal darkness – and it was there that he realized why the Transcended and his church kept the memory alive, even if many dismissed it as nothing more than superstition. Nonetheless, it was always there in the back of their mind.
The void wasn’t an entity, it was a force of nature as far as Arakiel could tell. He didn’t know how or why it happened, only that once it happened, it seemed impossible to reverse. He had traveled through ruins that had appeared as though they had been there for a long time, predating the New Order by decades, perhaps even centuries.
The little excursion of the mind only lasted for so long and as another shiver ran down Arakiel’s back, he decided to let the matter rest.
There was a reason why the Transcended wanted people that followed in his footsteps to visit that particular plane, but it also didn’t really matter anymore. Arakiel was no more Traveler and it seemed unlikely he’d ever get the chance again.
Shemyaza’s solution had turned him into a Mortal Ascendant and although he had truly begun to appreciate his abilities which would surely become comparable to other ascendants, he couldn’t quite forget the freedom he used to have as a Traveler.
He most certainly wouldn’t have suffered through these dreary, boring days of traveling – he was truly starting to resent them.
Traveling was fun when one constantly visited new places… not be stuck in the same biome for weeks on end. He could only hope that he’d eventually get the ability to quickly traverse a landscape again.
Perhaps he’d grow wings like Aurora? That way, he could at least try to learn flying quite unlike his little seraphim that had become afraid after having nearly fallen to the ground once.
He wasn’t even sure if she trained them still. Most likely not, given how fixated Aurora was on him for the time being.
But all of that was really an issue for another time.
For now, he was stuck riding on some damned horse that he didn’t even bother to name and the closest town was still days away.
Although, as much as he liked to complain internally, he much preferred this dreariness to the alternative, for that might just cook his goose and he wasn’t in the business for cooking geese. He wanted them fried and stirred in lots of fat, seasoned with spices and herbs.
The Smokeless Host arrived at the first town on the fifth day of the new year, having braved the cold landscape without any major problems whatsoever and although his army hadn’t managed to get the drop onto the count and his soldiers, the town’s defenders stood little chance against the combined forces of Arakiel’s army.
Upon first inspection of the town’s defenses, he ordered an immediate attack and his army heeded the call with initiative and vigor.
The rather pitiful wooden palisades quickly broke under the combined might of his Earth Evokers and although the enemy’s water mages would’ve proved quite deadly, they were not able to withstand Akili’s orange fire, especially as he was backed up by Air and Fire Evokers that combined their spells to negate most of the opponent’s ice attacks.
Under their cover, the highly skilled and fully buffed elite banners approached without any casualties whatsoever.
After his army cracked the gate, the initial wave of defenders fell back but not without suffering quite a number of casualties as the southern warriors cut down the defenders with unrivaled swiftness and efficiency. Some managed to retreat into the keep that had been built right against the truly massive Moli river, but it was thankfully built more or less entirely out of wood and timber.
And while the Smokeless Host won the magical part of the immediate assault on the town with some push back, mainly light injuries and fatigue caused by too many spell uses, it utterly crushed the defenders on the mundane side.
Arakiel’s army occupied the town in under two hours and while his skirmishers ensured that the curfew was upheld by the civilian residents, his mages began to bombard the count’s keep with air, earth and especially fire evocations, the latter of which eventually proved to be the turning point.
The enemy’s water mages could only quench so many fires before they fatigued out and when that vulnerability became apparent, Akili wove a truly monstrous ball of orange fire that set a sizable portion of the wooden keep aflame before he, too, passed out.
When the defenders could no longer hold out, they surrendered on the condition that the civilians inside the keep remain unharmed.
Arakiel agreed and since they were rather pressed on time, he immediately allowed his army to loot and seize tribute at the same time. Given the fact that they were effectively on a timer, the soldiers did not seize any flesh this time around – only goods and food were accepted.
It wasn’t exactly a change in Sultan Zimraan’s tenants – it was a generally agreed-upon act of omission.
Unfortunately, the Middle count and the remaining nobles could not accept their loss and tried to ambush a group of relatively isolated warriors with a sneak attack, hoping to use the chaos caused as a way to break through the army lines and flee.
They caused three deaths and several wounded, but were quickly overwhelmed and then publicly executed in a most gruesome way.
It solved most of the problems with potential prisoners, yet Arakiel couldn’t claim to be happy about the event. Unfortunately, the captain that had been tasked with watching the prisoners died in the ambush, so there was no direct person he could punish.
Basically all nobles – regardless of age and gender – were cut down without mercy and only a pair of terrified young Water Enchantresses survived because they hadn’t moved from their spot. And even then, the two only survived the justified rage of the southerners because they accepted a thorough humiliation, never once giving their captors a reason to execute them.
There was a distinct lack of noble children which Arakiel was quite glad about as he had no intention of dragging a bunch of snotty brats along, but he also couldn’t leave them behind because of Sultan Zimraan’s orders.
With most problems having been taken care of, Arakiel left the city on the morrow, but not before suffering yet another sneak attack in the town – this time by the citizenry.
On the next morning, he declared that the people had brought the following punishment onto themselves, after which he ordered all ships and ferries to be burned down while leaving the rest of the burghers and peasants a burning keep, harbor and hundreds of corpses to dispose.
This rather harsh method was not only welcomed by his army, it was demanded.
Mellia disapproved, but accepted that she had no agency while Ezekiel understood the necessity. He wasn’t too happy with it, just like Arakiel himself.
But these people had really asked for it. His soldiers had been disciplined all the way throughout.
The Smokeless Host followed the Moli from thereon out and through interrogation of the two surviving nobles, the commanding staff learned that the children and most noble noncombatants had been sent upriver all the way to Maduts’ Crossing.
As they had surmised, the count had expected their arrival, although he hadn’t expected them to arrive so soon. If they had been a few days earlier, then they could’ve taken lots of additional prisoners.
Arakiel didn’t say it, but he was quite happy that they had been ‘late’.
Over the next four days, the landscape didn’t change at all. The Moli to the north, forest and very few open plains just beyond the road on which they traveled.
On the fifth day, the Smokeless Host approached the next town which had been abandoned by the nobles, indicating that at least three Astral Thaumaturges had survived the earlier battle, for a grand communion needed at least 15 levels in total to form as far as he was aware and only a grand communion could send full-blown sentences to another astral mage. It also needed at least one astral shard per participant, so it was a rather large investment that these three had done.
Or maybe the few nobles nobles that had lived in this city were absolute cowards and had just left during the last days.
The burghers and peasants did not fight back although they certainly tried to stall at first, but when Arakiel allowed his forces to go and loot to their hearts’ content, the citizens quickly changed their tune.
Luckily for them, most warriors of the southern desert had no interest in any of the things that these people might be able to offer them and after just two hours, the Smokeless Host moved on, leaving the city more or less untouched.
As there was no count, there was no keep and the dozen or so nobles that had lived in this rather small town were ultimately deemed too unimportant.
The army kept a good and steady pace, even when the weather turned for the worse, with heavy snowfall and decent winds.
It was here that the two captured Water Enchantresses could restore some good will, for not only could they teach Shahar’s wife how to drain moisture from a piece of clothing, they also volunteered to assist.
In doing so, both gained enough reputation that they ended up being bought.
Arakiel later found out that Selene of all people had visited the two just a night earlier – something that Ezekiel was apparently aware off and even tolerated.
All in all, they braved the snow with magical support which drained some of their mages, but kept the pace going.
When the first town was a small but intense battle and the second one a surrender, then the third wasn’t even a thing because there were no citizens remaining or inside.
Nearly the entire town had been abandoned and if it hadn’t been for some Astral Thaumaturges detecting signs of life inside, he might’ve made the terrible mistake of letting his people scour the sizable town that not only had a keep, but also a relatively good amount of noble and burgher houses judging by the facades.
But instead of an army, only a small elite force entered and they not only captured a Fire Evoker which was an absolute rarity for the Middles, but they further found out that the Middles had planned to set the entire town aflame when the Smokeless Host attempted to stay here due to the increasingly bad weather.
The man had an iron discipline, but he couldn’t withstand the combined cruelty of Basam, Shahar, Aisha and Ezekiel – and through him, they learned that the Middles intended to ambush the Smokeless Host on the way to Maduts’ Crossing at multiple spots, especially seeking to target the retinue in order to destroy the food supplies.
It turned out to be absolutely fatal for the Middles, for instead of trapping Arakiel’s army, they ended up in an elaborate trap themselves and the more people the Host captured over the course of the next days, the more intel they got on their enemy.
By the time they reached the grand bridge that led into Maduts’ Crossing, his host had grown by over 150 prisoners including the count, several high profile nobles of the previous two towns and most importantly, two adult sons of Duke Madut.
Unlike earlier, Arakiel was quite delighted with all of these prisoners because they might just be what he needed given that they had to push through a single choke-point.
On the exact 18th day, the Smokeless Host was about to lay siege to Maduts’ Crossing and just judging by the amount of people he could see on the well-defended stone walls of the city across the massive river Moli, this might just be his army’s greatest test yet.
No, he was fairly certain that the next days would determine whether or not he played a major part in the future of this minor plane that had no name.