《Can a Lich Cry》Coronation: Part 6

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“Of course,” the ruler of Tiw continued, “We cannot let the mages have their way. Although my soldiers will still crush them, they must not die in the hands of weaklings who watch from afar.”

Erise walked down the steps to her throne and stood in front of Fia. “Prophetess, kneel,” she commanded.

Fia placed the right hand upon her left breast and bowed her head. She was relieved that she had not made any mistakes.

Erise donned a necklace to her half-sister. It held a golden coin, and engraved within it was a sword, shield, and spear. The rusted chains gave off a nostalgic blood-like smell.

Fia hesitantly fondled the item. When she roamed the battlefields, this object was her symbol. "I thought your soldiers stole it," she said. "Why now?"

Erise dropped her smile, and her bloodlust thickened. “Fia de la Sangria," Erise uttered. "Today I am not talking to a Prophetess, but a War Rat. A soldier under my command.”

Fia lowered her head. “I understand."

“You will have a hundred soldiers at your disposal,” Erise said. “They were War Rats like you, those who have defeated death time after time. In the upcoming battle, I want you to lead them in the annihilation of the one thousand mages in the Two-King army.”

The future Queen of Tiw took off her crown and bit upon its edges. “My coronation ceremony will have to wait," she said. "We have heads to collect."

---

Most of the War Rats were orphans. Ironically, they could only return to the same nightmares that had taken their parents. The armies did not accept them, for in their mind the weak would only waste rations. Since the children could not become soldiers, they roamed the battlefield, hunting for easy prey. From dying soldiers to members of their own kind, they killed and robbed them of whatever they could find.

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A year ago, Erise told Fia that she had made a small army in her honor. She did not expect the lunatic to recruit War Rats.

After changing back to her leather armor, Fia walked to the barracks to greet her new subordinates. John accompanied her as he always did, but this time he did not make the same playful smile. When the two arrived, four rows of twenty-five soldiers stood silently. With their backs rigid and tall, not a single one of them dared to breathe out of harmony. They all wore the same golden medallion as Fia, but she did not feel even a bit of affinity with them. Indeed, these youths did not resemble the scrappy comrades in Fia’s memory. At the front of each group, a leader stepped forward and saluted them. Three male, and one female.

“At ease,” John ordered with satisfaction. Only then did the soldiers relax.

“You can go, John,” Fia said. “Is there a reason you're still standing here?”

“Who do you think trained them to be this magnificent?” John retorted. “I will be your babysitter for this war, Prophetess. With all due respect, you know nothing about being a leader. And these soldiers are mine.”

Fia looked on with pity. “She must want you to die as well, you poor thing.”

“I will make sure you die first.”

“Thank you for the sentiment.” Fia turned towards the four leaders and said, “State your names, comrades. I hope they are not as ridiculous as my last squad.”

“One,” a red haired boy replied. His emerald eyes were aloof but not arrogant. He seemed to be the representative of the entire group.

“Two,” another freckled boy followed. His eyes were blank, but his gaze held an unseen force. Fia was surprised--he had awakened his own mana. He was a mage, and a strong one too.

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“Three,” a tall, brusque boy said. His bulky body resembled the ancient golems. His oblivious face made Fia smiled bitterly. Every War Rat squad had a brute who did the dirty work.

Lastly, the white-haired girl introduced herself. “Four,” she said. Fia glanced at the soldiers behind her. They were smaller than the other three groups. Why did Erise take in a group of weaklings?

Fia finally realized that the numbers were their "names." "Well, looks like I stand corrected," she rubbed the back of her head in dismay. "Do all of you still remember your real ones?"

“We threw them away long ago, Prophetess. We will earn them back after the war,” One said.

Fia frowned. “What if you die?” she asked.

“Then our fortunes stop there. If we die, we die.”

"Well then," Fia shrugged. "Don't ask me to bury you."

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