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Transience
41 - Old Enemies

41 - Old Enemies

Tarigen left Elethien’s tent after an extended exchange between them, Teion, as well as other Foresters in command of their own smaller units. It had been a few days since Elethien and Varaphan shook hands to indicate the beginning of the Rhinish-Forester alliance. Though there were a few voices of opposition and confusion, overall the alliance was well-received, and surprisingly, there were few cases of conflict between the two groups. In which direction they were going, Tarigen still didn’t have much of an idea, but at least they now had security and a place to settle down.

It was the perfect timing as well. With the eleventh month now past its midway point, winter was arriving faster than ever before even in the wastelands of Prentdor, situated quite a ways south compared to the capitals of both Trelven and Rhinn. Nights were particularly chilly now, fires having to be constantly maintained to keep the camps relatively warm and the troops to have good rest. Winter didn’t mean that the war would pause for the Foresters, simply that it was the season where scavenging was no longer an option for the warriors.

‘Tarigen, where do these supplies go?’ a Rhinish Forester asked, behind him several chests’ worth of various tools and crude fabrics. Compared to the Trelvenese Foresters, there was nothing much to separate them save for the accents in their tone. Though most of them were born in Rhinn, a few were born in Trelven and only assigned to Rhinn after they finished basic training at the Guild.

‘Just load them onto the wagons here.’ Despite the Rhinish Foresters still being separate from Elethien’s kingdom, they had already begun to intermingle together with the rest of the Foresters. True to his word, Varaphan had allowed the Trelvenese Foresters to join Elethien, and he had even taken a step further by allowing the Foresters to roam around the two camps without any barriers or forms of separation. Despite the slightly different attitudes and awkwardness between the two races, it was far more positive than the experiences he had received as a mercenary back in Trelven. The Rhinish soldiers could hold conversations with them, at least not showing an overt sense of disgust in the Foresters’ presence. Some of the friendlier ones even waved at him, exchanging a few greetings before they went on their way.

It was hard to believe that only a few years back, Tarigen had nearly been killed by these same soldiers led by Varaphan.

He remembered Varaphan’s face when he followed Elethien to the negotiations. The young, confident general who nearly annihilated the army Tarigen was in back when he was still a mercenary. Tarigen remembered the sense of fear around his companions when they realised they had been surrounded, cut off from any form of supply and reinforcement save for a narrow ‘passage’, in reality a death trap designed by Varaphan to kill every single one of them that were desperate enough to flee. However valiant the Foresters were, they could only be whittled down by the endless rain of arrows that showered upon them day and night.

He remembered the gradual onset of panic among the troops, both Trelvenese and Forester, and with the commander killed while leading an attempt to break out of the encirclement, the troops lost any semblance of organisation. Usually, seeing the enemy break down in defeat, a victorious commander would offer terms of surrender to quickly wrap up the victory and move on elsewhere.

Varaphan gave no such terms. Even when it wasted tens of thousands of arrows on a daily basis, the Rhinish archers and horsemen did not stop their barrages, rotating shifts to bring about a different kind of hell with every passing moment.

Amovishel had praised Tarigen for maintaining the composure of the troops in the direst of conditions, but in reality, Tarigen had no idea what exactly he did that was deserving of such praise. As a lowly, weak Forester, he had no commanding power over the panicking troops. All he did was to rally his companions when hunger and starvation took over and fleeing became the only option to even have a hint of survival. He simply convinced them to try to break through the opposite end of the encirclement while the rest attempted to flee through the passage. That was it.

It was during that gamble when he met Varaphan, the two locking eyes just for a moment before Varaphan’s lance narrowly missed Tarigen’s head. Tarigen was then dragged back by a companion, but he would never forget the ferocity of the Rhinish commander’s expression, the controlled outburst of emotion and adrenaline burning through his body in the heat of battle. Compared to Tarigen, Varaphan’s charisma enveloped the field, his presence permeating everywhere to signify his control.

To be frank, Tarigen doubted whether Varaphan still recognised him in the meeting. The latter had no reason to remember a nameless Forester from a battle two years ago. That battle might’ve been pivotal for Tarigen’s life, but it was only one of many for Varaphan. The gap between the two was simply too great.

‘Organising the transport of things again today?’ a voice called.

‘Yes, there’s still a lot to do—’ Tarigen paused. Varaphan was in front of him, the man accompanied only by a single soldier, probably his aide, who stood behind at a distance.

‘Do you still remember me?’ Varaphan asked.

‘From the negotiations with Elethien—’

‘I meant the battle two years ago at the plains east of the Erver Pass,’ Varaphan rephrased. ‘Do you still remember me from then, Tarigen?’

‘How do you know my name?’

‘I have kept tabs on you since that battle. Come, take a break. I want to talk with you for a moment.’

Before Tarigen could even react, he was already following Varaphan as they strolled around the camp, the commander particularly relaxed with his loose, flowing robes, a stark contrast to the terrifying lamellar armour worn on the battlefield.

‘So, were you wondering how I remembered you all this time?’ Varaphan opened. ‘After all, it’s not every day that a Forester’s name gets the attention of the commander of the Rhinish cavalry.’

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‘We had only a moment’s interaction as enemies on the field, and I was only one of many Foresters who attempted to break out of the encirclement at the time,’ Tarigen said. ‘That battle changed my life, but it was probably just another day for you. How did you even go as far as to inquire about my name before we met again?’

‘“Just another day”, huh…’ Varaphan chuckled. ‘So you really had no idea what you did in that battle.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t blame you, considering your position at the time. As a Forester, you couldn’t have the strategic vision of a commander. All you were trying to do was to survive. You certainly didn’t have any idea what your brilliance did to salvage an otherwise disastrous campaign for Trelven.’

‘I certainly didn’t.’

Before Tarigen could realise, they were already climbing a slope and going further away from the camp. The dry air scratched their skin, the sand and dust slightly obscuring their vision. Below, the Rhinish and Foresters were like tiny ants scurrying about in organised chaos, each in their own post and doing their role.

‘What do you see here?’ Varaphan asked, gesturing at the people below.

‘The rare cooperation between the Foresters and the Rhinish,’ Tarigen answered. ‘Something I never thought would be possible.’

‘But it is,’ Varaphan said. ‘And whose credit do you think that belongs to?’

‘Elethien and her stubbornness to bring fantasy into reality. Without her vision and an obsession to bring about that vision to the world, you and I would not be talking like old friends here.’

‘And you don’t believe you play a part in this?’ Varaphan sat on the hard ground, ignoring the dust that began to settle on his clothing and hair. ‘From my perspective, you are the one that deserves the most credit.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Tarigen said. ‘What part in any of this is my credit?’

‘I did not agree to your queen’s absurd demands because I shared a common vision, nor is it that I bear any ulterior motives only for the sake of Rhinn. I agreed to it because you were at the negotiation table.’

He gazed at Tarigen. ‘I cannot pass up the chance of having the brightest military mind as my ally. Instead of allying with a bunch of uneducated, barbaric brutes, I find value in allying with the strongest Forester I have seen in my life.’

‘You’re giving unwarranted praise towards me, Commander Varaphan.’

‘During that battle two years ago, my plan for the encirclement and annihilation of the Trelvenese army was nearly perfect, save for a fatal flaw I didn’t even realise until in hindsight: the entire plan hinged on the command structure being linked to only me, who was situated at the opposite end of the so-called retreat route. Whether you realise it or not, your decision to fight against your instincts and to drive directly, suicidally at the enemy completely threw us into confusion and panic while allowing for Amovishel’s reinforcements to deliver a strong blow to break the encirclement. Whether it was intentional or not, it was a stroke of genius that went against any sort of human instinct of self-preservation or comprehension. No strategist would even have that cross their mind, certainly not in the middle of a battle when the mental faculties are limited by a desire to simply live.’

‘It’s definitely not intentional.’

‘The fact you simply, naturally went in the opposite direction shows the limitless potential of your mind. And even if you don’t attribute that to yourself, what about your leadership capabilities? Not only were you insane enough to do such an act, but you attracted a significant portion of troops to attack with you. You had no title, no established foundation of power. You simply created power for yourself in that moment. Despite whatever you say about yourself, in that moment, I truly felt fear at the sight of such a spectacle. It was a miracle. A disastrous miracle for me, but a miracle nonetheless.’

‘No, you’re exaggerating,’ Tarigen disagreed. ‘You can’t just attribute what I did back then as genius. I was nearly killed by you during that battle. If your lance had shifted just a bit, I would not be alive to speak to you right now.’

‘I struck at you out of panic. At that point I was already swarmed by dozens of Foresters, my personal guard collapsing before my eyes. I saw how the Foresters gravitate around a single person, so I struck at the obvious source of the chaos: you. Believe it or not, there is much more you can see from the saddle of a horse.’

He smiled. ‘If anything, I’m glad I didn’t kill you, Tarigen. That battle changed my life as well. Without it, I would not have encountered the natural genius of a person coming from a race I saw as barbarians and merely warriors. When I knew that the young prince of Trelven took you under his wing, I thought the end of the war was near. If you had spent a few more years with him, who knows what would happen to this war? To have the opportunity to meet you again was a chance I could not possibly throw away. I made an alliance because of you, not because of your queen and her so-called kingdom.’

‘You cannot possibly attribute that all to—’

‘I can. If I could choose to only snatch you away from the other Foresters, I would. To meet you again here must be the result of the machinations of some god. To be as frank as possible, you are the reason for this alliance, Tarigen. Not your queen, not her dreams, not her kingdom, not the Foresters… You. That’s it.’

Tarigen stared at Varaphan, the commander’s eyes filled with awe and admiration. He wasn’t lying in the slightest. The greatest mind that ever lived — This was how the commander of the Rhinish cavalry saw him. It didn’t feel real. To have that kind of admiration was undeserved. He still had no idea what he did to earn such praises.

His mind went to Elethien and her obsession with Fate, the all-powerful god that somehow found favour with the Foresters. Perhaps it was indeed Fate who orchestrated such events, to set up this meeting so that the Kingdom of Foresters may advance to its next stage. From before the rebellion even began, it was already pulling the strings, all so that Elethien’s dream could be realised.

Or was it even her dream in the first place?

In a way, it felt oddly both frightening and comforting to think of it in that way.

A gentle gust of wind rustled against his hair for a moment before the air subsided once more.

Perhaps he shouldn’t really think of such theoretical things.

‘So what do you want to do with this genius ally of yours?’ Tarigen questioned, focusing once more on the man before him.

‘Something quite ambitious,’ Varaphan answered.

‘And that is…?’

‘I want to destroy the Mercenaries’ Guild, the organisation behind the stalemate of the war, the one who controls the distribution of Forester warriors to maintain the balance of conflict, the largest obstacle to the road to peace.’

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