“Report.”

“Fifty-eight dead Paril civilians, two thousand eight hundred ninety-nine wounded. Two hundred thirty-four dead Paril soldiers, five hundred sixty-six wounded. One hundred and eight dead Makini soldiers, fifty-four wounded. All in all, the casualties are far lower than we expected.”

“Proceed.”

“Estimated property damage, two million standard coinages, mostly due to the freak tornado, and our violent assault on the Palace. Seven hundred ninety-three Paril military prisoners of war, one hundred and four Paril noble prisoners of war. The detention facilities we set up are proving sufficient.”

“Continue.”

“One special prisoner, held in special facility. Goes by the alias Broken. Noble. Real name unknown, real House unknown. Pertinent information, Ishad, an associate, found dead of Wrath poisoning, Great Black Owl Broken seemed to have ‘befriended’ shot dead at the docks.”

“He’s all alone,” said Varsis, looking at Captain Sari, who clutched his notes, as he sat on the far side of Varsis’ desk, in the command tent. “He’s all alone.”

“That would appear to be true, sir.”

“What of our supplies, and what of the status of the approaching Minsu relief force?”

“Don’t you wish to order something to be done about Broken?”

“Answer my question, Sari.”

“My apologies, sir.” Sari shuffled through his notes. “Captured supplies within Asan Paril should be enough to feed our army for five months. The Minsu relief force should arrive here in one week.”

“And what of our own reinforcements?”

“Another two thousand soldiers should reach our location within the week.” Sari paused. “As Asan Paril is ours, when the Minsu arrive, we should be able to rout them. This could be the last great battle of the war.”

“Perhaps,” said Varsis, uncertain. He did not doubt his tactical skills, but…

And then a messenger burst in.

He held a sealed letter, with the stamp of the Council. Varsis took it, and opened it. He read.

To the Lord-General Varsis Hakshi,

We of the Council have been made aware of your conquest of Asan Paril, and would like to congratulate you. An epic battle with the Minsu is ahead, but we are sure you can succeed.

However, we make of you one request. One who calls himself Broken is amongst your prisoners. We request you send him to the capital, with Eton as one of his guards, so that he can be put on one of the carracks. He is too dangerous to be held in any other way.

Signed and Sealed by the Council of the Makini

Varsis sighed. A request by the Council of the Makini was no request; it was an order. However, at least now the problem of what to do with Broken was solved.

Varsis took leave of both the messenger and Captain Sari, and, clutching the letter, headed from the command tent, over to the tent where Broken was being held.

As the guards who stood on the outside of the tent saluted him, Varsis stepped inside.

It was dark within the tent. Outside, there was bright daylight, but only a bare minimum of that penetrated the closed tent flaps.

In the center of that small tent, there was a support pole. Broken’s arms were manacled behind his back and around the pole. His legs, splayed outwards and chained together, were just as stationary. Broken wore dark prisoner clothing, and a blindfold, but no gag.

He had not screamed, nor even spoken since his capture, so a gag had never been placed.

Varsis stood over Broken, and watched him carefully for a moment.

The rhythmic movement of Broken’s chest, up and down, was so steady one could set a drum band to it, but aside from that, there was no sign Broken was even alive. He slumped, head resting against his left shoulder, eyes closed.

This was the man who had made Asan Paril fall.

Coming to Broken, seeing him like this, made Varsis wonder about life. How could a man come up with such a deep and complicated plan, nearly succeed, and then, after failure, completely give up?

When Broken had been leading the Makini through the sewers, he had been their prisoner then too, but he had been as much with his head held high, and with unquenchable fire in his eyes.

And then, he had been able to escape.

Broken didn’t seem capable of escape, now. He didn’t even seem capable of standing.

There is something very strange about this man, thought Varsis. Broken didn’t seem to be on the level of others. In all his years, Varsis had seen prisoners beg, plead, or take their imprisonments, or even impending executions in stride. What Varsis had never seen before was a man who seemed simply not to care.

Broken seemed to utterly not care.

Broken had been Maiako’s protector, and now he no longer had that duty, but losing one mission wasn’t the end of the world.

Varsis had seen, in his years, people wanting to die, people saying as much, and actually believing it.

But this was different.

Broken didn’t want to die, he just didn’t care.

And outsider might have thought Varsis was much the same way, a man who lived to serve the Makini Council, and treated his own thoughts as subservient to their own.

That wasn’t true. Beyond his service to the Makini Council, Varsis cared about other things. He cared about his grandfather, Oneako, and a part of him didn’t want to die, so that, as Oneako grew older, and less self-sufficient, he would continue to be cared for.

Another part of Varsis didn’t want to die, because he hoped one day to find true love, something deeper and more real than what he had had with the sea-witch Ana. Still another part of him wanted to live so that perhaps one day he could sit on the Council, and be able to check his mother’s power when she endangered the lives of others.

He, one who was on first glance a mindless warrior, had a variety of things to live for. He couldn’t imagine one who did not.

Varsis pitied Broken, the man who had been so full of strength and courage, and now, was dead inside.

At that moment Eton entered the tent.

“I trust you have heard where I will be going?” the demon that looked like a small man said to Varsis.

The Lord-General did not answer immediately. His eyes were on Broken. After what Eton had done, if Broken had any purpose left, he would have tried to tear Eton limb to limb in reparation for the murders he had committed.

Hell, if Broken actually found in the next few moments a way to kill Eton, Varsis would have let him. He disliked the demon that much.

And yet, Broken did nothing.

The murderer of those closest to Broken was in the room, and yet Broken continued to sit as he had sat, motionless and passive.

Even though Broken’s eyes were closed, Varsis could tell Broken was not asleep. Varsis knew Broken had heard Eton’s voice, knew who it belonged to.

And yet Broken did nothing.

Varsis pitied him all the more, but could not, could not understand him.

“I do indeed know you will be leaving me,” said Varsis. As he looked at Broken, and saw what the demon had managed to reduce the once-proud warrior too, he couldn’t help but add, “Good riddance.”

“Good riddance?” asked Eton. “Aren’t you the least bit curious how I managed to defeat Broken’s exorcism without losing my essence?”

“You are an especially powerful demon,” said Varsis. “Broken put everything he had into killing you, nearly costing his life, but in the end, he failed to bring you down.”

Varsis had half-hoped his words would have roused Broken into doing something, anything, but in that effort, they failed.

“There is more to the story,” said Eton. “Aren’t you curious to know the details, the specifics?”

“No,” said Varsis, flatly. “I will not stand a demon gloating over the body of one many time more than his equal. Go. He’ll be sent off for you soon enough.”

If Broken had been a different prisoner, Varsis would never have had spoken about the logistics of his moving within his hearing. However, with Broken, it didn’t seem like it mattered. And the detail that had been offered up was minor, anyway.

Eton gave Varsis a smirk, and left.

Once again, Varsis found himself alone in the room with one he had almost considered his rival. Varsis had thought that one day he and Broken would have made confrontation.

But, alas, that was not going to happen.

Disappointments were common in Varsis’ life.

He gave one final look of sympathy in Broken’s direction, and headed from the room.

Behind him, there was no noise, not even the barest whisper.

Varsis walked away from a shell.