The Foresters sat quietly around small bonfires, wrapping themselves tightly in various cloths as the trees around them swayed to the soft winds. For weeks they had been marching slowly southeast, making their way through the mountains as they concealed themselves from settlements and possible pursuers. There had been no encounters with the Trelvenese since the battle at Maerila, but there was also the encroachment of another problem: hunger.
Resorting to primitive foraging, they had been hunting wild game and picking various fruits along their path, though whatever spoils they received were certainly not enough to properly feed all of them. A week ago they finally made the decision to slaughter what little horses they had, delaying their inevitable starvation for a bit longer. With their energy being slowly depleted over time, they could only continue their march at a lethargic pace, praying for some sort of physical miracle to come.
They were no longer a rebellion, but merely a group of starving individuals who wished for nothing more than survival.
Elethien rested her head on her arms, staring blankly at the flickering flames. Despite still being recognised nominally as the leader of the Foresters, the practical work had been left to Teion, and more recently, Tarigen. It wasn’t that she was unfit, nor that she was unwilling to lead. The Foresters simply relied on the two of them more on a daily basis. There wasn’t much place for a spiritual leader whose wings couldn’t provide them food more than the hands and brains of the two other leaders.
‘How long are we going to continue this march for?’ Teion asked.
‘Until we reach a settlement of some sort, I guess,’ Elethien said.
‘You said the same thing a few days ago. We’re starving here, Elethien.’ He dragged his axe over, as if to demonstrate to her his current physical state. ‘We’ve just been marching nonstop, unsure of our destination, since we left Maerila. At this rate, we’re going to die in the wilderness.’
‘Don’t worry too much, Teion,’ Tarigen reassured. ‘Judging from our path so far, we would soon cross the paths of a supply line heading towards Prentdor. We can raid a convoy to solve our current food shortage before we make a decision on a solid destination.’
‘You say that as if raiding convoys is easy. Besides, how do you even know this information?’
‘It’s from my education, more or less. As much as you may hate me for saying this, Amovishel did teach me many things, one of them being logistics which he used the supply lines to Prentdor as an example.’
Hearing the name, Elethien bowed her head further into her arms.
‘And you just know for sure there will be a supply line there?’ Teion questioned.
‘Yes,’ Tarigen answered confidently. ‘Where I lack the physical strength to lead the Foresters, I make up for in my knowledge.’
‘Whatever you say, genius,’ Teion conceded. ‘It’s not as if you’ve made a mistake so far. Yet.’
‘Thank you,’ Tarigen appreciated. ‘Your attitude certainly improved compared to our first few encounters.’
‘Let’s not dwell on that.’ During the first week of the march, Teion had been irrationally cautious of Tarigen, arguing over the smallest of suggestions that Tarigen made. Only Elethien’s intervention would somewhat calm things down, leaving the two still rather bitter towards each other. It was only over time when Tarigen’s strategies were proven effective that Teion began to see the newcomer in a different light, and where Teion noticed Tarigen’s efforts, the Foresters spotted as well.
‘Anyway,’ Teion continued. ‘Let’s say we somehow manage to find a convoy and raid it. What then? We can’t continue marching southeast with the mountains to protect us forever.’
‘I have two ideas after we reach the end of the mountain range,’ Tarigen proposed. ‘One is to make a turn east and head towards Rhinn—’
‘And be mercenaries for another kingdom? Are you joking?’ Teion stood in anger.
‘Let me finish,’ Tarigen hurriedly said, raising his arm and motioning for an agitated Teion to back down. ‘The logic for that lies in Rhinn’s Forester mercenary population and resources. Having the second-most Forester mercenaries on the continent, we can easily bolster our forces if we reestablish our kingdom there and recruit the mercenaries there. The problem lies in Rhinn’s slightly better treatment of Foresters, making the mercenaries harder to turn to us. We can also temporarily align ourselves with Rhinn for survival. Though, like you, I definitely don’t like the prospects of being exploited under a second kingdom.’
‘What’s your second idea?’
‘We continue heading south towards the smaller kingdom of Ereven and overthrow a city to take it as our own. There are several problems with that, though. Because it’s a very small kingdom, they have no Foresters for us to recruit, and we’d only have a population of a couple thousand at best to defend against whatever they have. Not to mention Ereven is a vassal state of Trelven, the kingdom we rebelled against. There’s also the increased distance, meaning that we would need to forage and raid more just to reach there.’
‘Both options you proposed are just crazy, impossible, or both!’ Teion protested.
‘The reason behind my two ideas align with our initial goal: to find a city, then capture it and make it our base of operations. That’s why Maerila was attacked, wasn’t it?’
‘Can’t we just find another city in Trelven to take over and restart the rebellion?’
‘What do you think, Elethien?’ Tarigen turned.
Throughout the journey, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t been thinking of the same thing. Despite being a mercenary for four years and being relatively knowledgeable of the geography around the frontiers, the reality was that she had no idea of anything beyond that. Of course, she had prayed to Fate, but all it gave was the continued nudge towards the southeast, the clouds and winds gently pointing her towards that direction.
There just wasn’t much to make a decision on.
She finally looked up. ‘For now, we continue southeast as we have been doing. Raiding a convoy can work, but…’
‘But?’ Tarigen and Teion both asked simultaneously.
‘At our current state, do we even have the strength to take on a convoy? We are all weak and starving. Our weapons are limited. The ones able-bodied enough to fight are few—’
‘But your wings can protect us all, can’t it?’ Tarigen mentioned. ‘At least based on what Teion claimed.’
‘Right,’ Teion realised. ‘Maybe we can even replicate our first miracle at Norerila.’
‘And even if we are weak, it’s not as if we are all incapable of fighting,’ Tarigen added. ‘We are Foresters. We’ve survived worse conditions than this.’
‘Right, right…’ She had nearly forgotten. Starvation meant little when many of the Foresters, her included, had gone through starvation while in battle. Even in this dire situation, they still possessed the strength to fight. It was unrealistic to demand of her God another miracle, but she trusted in Fate. It promised her a kingdom of Foresters. It wouldn’t allow her and her people to fall now. Even after that disaster at Maerila, a miracle had happened in the form of the Trelvenese returning to the city and allowing them to flee. Everywhere she went, Fate was there to protect and guide the Foresters.
As flawed as she was, Fate would never abandon her.
She stood up, invigorated by her thoughts. ‘Tarigen, how far are we from that supply line you mentioned?’
‘I can’t say for sure, but given its proximity to the mountains, probably a day or two’s walking distance away. Once we reach there, we simply have to wait until a convoy shows up.’
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‘And what about after?’ Teion asked.
Elethien paused for a moment. ‘We march east towards Rhinn, but not into Rhinn.’
‘What?’
‘Prentdor is always a battlefield for major campaigns, isn’t it? Many of the strongest fortresses are built in that region, after all.’
‘No way you’re thinking of…’ Tarigen widened his eyes in disbelief.
‘Exactly what you are thinking of,’ Elethien affirmed. ‘We involve ourselves in the battlefield by taking one of the fortresses as our base. And from there, we recruit more of our people into the kingdom.’
‘Elethien… Your fluctuation in confidence scares me,’ Tarigen muttered.
‘Crazy, absolutely crazy…’ Teion shook his head.
‘But as you say, my wings will protect us all, won’t it?’
Fate would protect her. Fate must protect her.
The wind continued to blow southeast.
----------------------------------------
They finally descended from the mountains that had protected them for so long. Just as Tarigen predicted, a well-maintained road lay in the distance, carving a way through the woods until it stretched into the horizon and the empty plains beyond. An ideal location for an ambush.
‘Spread out!’ Teion ordered.
Hundreds of Foresters split up into teams before entering the small patch of woods or taking shelter behind a couple of large boulders and slopes. The rest of them had been left behind a day ago, encamped still somewhere in the mountains hidden away from the path. Only a few dozen combat-ready Foresters guarded the camp, the others all devoting themselves to this seemingly bizarre plan.
When Elethien announced the plan to the Foresters the day before, there was naturally a bit of protest coming from her exhausted people. It was indeed quite the risk, deciding to split apart their already vulnerable group and commit to something that had only a vague promise of relief.
But what choice did they really have? They were headed towards death by starvation. They couldn’t possibly hope to attack a city or even a town without first being replenished and fed. And in the end, even if the Foresters at large weren’t willing, it wasn’t as if Elethien or her companions would allow them to stall their progress. For the sake of the kingdom’s survival, this first step must at least be taken. The plan would be put in action whether their people liked it or not.
The Kingdom of Foresters needed it.
Thankfully, the people were quickly convinced with Teion stepping forth with Tarigen explaining the plan in detail, but in Elethien’s eyes, this was only a further sign of the Foresters’ trust shifting away from her and to the two men that supported her. At this point, she seemed more of a figurehead than an actual leader, a face for the people to rally around, but no more.
The lingering feeling accompanied her to the woods where they’d execute their plan.
Elethien approached Tarigen, the young man perched atop a vantage point overlooking the path. Only now did she notice her old friend seemed significantly thinner than before, his breath slightly erratic despite having already sat there for a while.
‘This journey is taking a toll on you, isn’t it?’ she asked, sitting next to him.
‘A little,’ Tarigen admitted. ‘Teion’s taken his position, right? You should probably go take yours as well.’
‘It will probably be a while before any convoy appears. Let me take my time.’
‘You’re not being a very good leader, are you?’ Tarigen joked.
‘... Not a good leader, you say?’ Elethien stood and loomed over the man, her dark shadow covering Tarigen’s entire body.
‘S-Sorry.’ Tarigen shrunk back as he realised his mistake.
‘Well, I’ll be heading off to “set an example”,’ she said, leaving after only a brief period of sitting. ‘Show the signal when you see one coming.’
‘Trust me,’ Tarigen smiled, holding a red flag in his hand. In reality, it was more of a red rag tied to a branch they found on the way, but it’d have the same effect.
It didn’t take long for Elethien to arrive at her designated spot: a thick bush just next to the path. She had no idea how long she would wait for. They had found the road, but it would mean nothing if it wasn’t being used by convoys. Thankfully, there were still wheel marks that bore into the soil indicating at least recent use. Behind her, dozens of Foresters lay in waiting, their weapons propped against the trees if not resting on the ground.
All they had to do was to wait.
After many growls of the stomach had passed, Tarigen finally raised his flag. The ground was already shaking a little. The Foresters could hear the sound of marching steps, followed closely by the rattling of metal and wood. The enemy was here.
Elethien eyed Teion. The latter, standing in a more advanced position, showed three fingers to her. Three carts, probably with a decently sized guard accompanying them, yet not too big to the point of being impossible to assault. Based on the other Foresters’ excited fidgeting, she could gradually sense the anticipation. The prey was falling into their trap.
She could see the convoy now. They looked to be large, rudimentary covered carts, used both for transporting goods and soldiers into battle. She had been on one before as a mercenary. At least one of those carts carried enough food supplies to last a long journey. Dozens of soldiers surrounded and guarded the convoy, all of them lightly armoured with some of their equipment on their backs. The pace of the convoy seemed to be rather fast, as if they were heading towards the frontlines in a hurry.
Well, not that they’d ever arrive at the front.
Elethien leapt out, spreading her wings as she halted the surprised convoy. This was her chance to at least regain some sort of reverence from her people. She was blessed by Fate. She was the leader of the Foresters. She saved them from total disaster at Maerila, even if it still ended up being a crushing defeat. She was the founder, the queen, the head of the entire movement.
And she would guide her kingdom to victory once more.
The bewildered soldiers stared at her, startled by her presence as she blocked off the path.
‘Get off, Forester!’ one of them ordered.
‘Which army do you belong to?’ another questioned. ‘Where are your comrades?’
Elethien looked at them as her right eye began to bleed black and red. ‘The blessing of Fate be with us all.’
Three of her wings broke into four greatswords, the blades slicing through the enemy with ease. The Foresters emerged from their hiding spots, firing their energy blasts from all directions. The Trelvenese soldiers quickly retreated as they bunched up together in an effort to form some sort of formation.
The Foresters couldn’t allow that.
Teion burst through the bushes with a team of Foresters, his axe slamming towards the enemy shields. For a man whose magic allowed him to break through even a town’s wooden gates, the thin shields stood no chance against his strength. He and the others tore through enemy ranks, cutting them down like lumberjacks to trees. The soldiers could muster no response, and soon, what few of them that remained dropped their weapons in surrender.
Elethien stood before them, eyeing their carts and their armour. The soldiers all kneeled in fright, handing their lives over to her decision. Only a moment ago they were marching proudly towards the battlefield, protecting whatever supplies that lay within. Now they grovelled at her feet, practically begging for her mercy so their lives could be spared.
Elethien noticed the face of one of the soldiers. He was young, perhaps around her age, his eyes a glimmering blue. Those eyes bore a resemblance to Amovishel, the man she once took as her prisoner.
She turned away in disgust. ‘Kill them all,’ she commanded.
‘Wait, they could be useful—’ Tarigen shouted as he ran down towards the scene, but it was too late. Her blades and the Foresters’ blasts punctured the enemy before they could even scream. The soldiers fell towards the ground, their blood smeared and splattered against the carts.
And just like that, a small convoy was seized.
‘Open the carts.’ Without even a moment of remorse, Elethien and the Foresters began hungrily searching through the carts. Tarigen could only watch silently from a distance. Sure enough, there was plenty of food and weapons stored inside one of the carts, prepared for around a few hundred people on their journey. The Kingdom had their moment of relief. The plan worked. They could still go on.
But the other two carts had no stored supplies. Instead, when Elethien looked into them, she saw dozens of green eyes staring back at her, their bodies crowded and stuffed tightly together with barely any room to even breathe. A few were already collapsed, unconscious, or perhaps dead. The carts’ stench was unbearable, the air heavy and pungent.
The ones held inside were all young, sixteen-year-old Foresters. Around a few hundred of them packed into carts meant to hold fifty each. They looked at Elethien in silent gratitude as she gradually pulled them out of the carts.
‘Thank… you,’ they whimpered. ‘Our… saviour.’
The other Foresters, despite having their own stomachs to feed, quickly distributed some of the looted food to them. The young adults all seemed to have been able-bodied at some point, but most were now extremely weakened and malnourished. Just like the Foresters in Elethien’s kingdom.
‘Don’t worry, you’re all safe now,’ Teion whispered as he handed them bread and crackers. He hadn’t even got one for himself yet.
‘What happened?’ Tarigen asked one of them, a girl who looked less malnourished and tired compared to the rest. It was unnatural to see a new batch of Foresters like this. For all the exploitation, having unfit soldiers on the front line would be extremely detrimental to the war effort as a whole.
It didn’t make sense.
‘... We were the last batch sent to the front,’ she answered. ‘The rest of us… were killed. I also heard from the soldiers that…’
Elethien turned around. ‘What did you say?’
The girl’s mouth moved, but her voice had become so soft only Tarigen could understand her words. Elethien could only see his expression growing dimmer with every passing moment, his eyes closed as if to block out something from his view.
‘Tarigen… just what did she say?’
He looked solemnly at Elethien. ‘There will be no more Foresters in Trelven within a year. The Trelvenese have decided to completely empty their kingdom of our people. As for the existing mercenaries including these young adults… They will all be sacrificed in the upcoming offensive.’
‘And… the reason?’ she slowly asked.
‘You should know the answer, Elethien.’