Part 1

- RAPHAEL BLUESCALE’S POV -

It had been a month since I opened my eyes in that room thick with the smell of herbs, sweat, and other bodily fluids. It was a short-lasting coma, about a week they said, though of course, I recall not the time that passed. The last memory I had was of that studious-looking healer. White hair, balding at the apex of his head, thin, square glassed that he wore at the very tip of his nose, and a bushy mustache that almost attached to his sideburns. A funny image of a doctor. As he was checking the countless bruises, minor cuts and wounds littering my skin and flesh, I remember him muttering something about a clog in my circuits that was preventing his healing magic from doing its job as intended. From the 24h-like case in red leather he carried around, he took an ampoule-like object, much smaller and with a much longer beak than a normal one. It wasn’t empty like a normal ampoule but was instead wholly made of a solid black glass-like material littered with bluish smaller veins and clusters. It vibrated strangely as the healer flowed mana into the object.

Slowly and with much more carefulness than I expected from a man with hands as rough as his, the healer caressed every inch of my skin with the black ampoule. My hands, my chest, neck, face, scalp, eyelids, groin…Wherever it touched, a warm, pleasurable sensation spread. It felt like he was applying countless of those muscle patches that spread heat. Instinctively, my body relaxed. An old habit from when I first began training when I was still on earth and those patches were my best friends. Only when the healer moved the object over a specific point on my left side, roughly at the height of my navel, did the monotonous, relaxing heat change. From relaxing pleasure, it became scorching pain. The very moment that ampoule touched the spot from where the serpent tattoo originates, my whole body became immersed in flames.

The serpent glowed with a deep, red light and the skin around it sizzled from the heat. I felt the taste of blood in my mouth, the same sensation one feels when closed in a sauna for too long and deep bolts of bright, white pain running through my nerves. I squirmed as spasms of pain controlled my limbs. My wounds, even the smaller ones, opened in unison, creating a spraying fountain of crimson blood, drenching the healer, the maid, and a great deal of floor and bed. Then, my vision faded, sounds became dull and muffled until I could hear nothing no more and my consciousness ceased to exist.

When I woke up a week later, I was told that the healer spent the entirety of the first day tending to my ever-opening wounds and feverish heat. In the subsequent days, a maid had to be always present to change my bandages and promptly deal with any unforeseeable event. I was told, with Ballarak’s precise words, that I was ‘a pain in the ass’.

Julie spent the first two days sitting by my side under the healer’s orders. Apparently, even in this world speaking to someone comatose is supposed to keep them “connected” to us, though the concept of souls and planes is much firmer than my old world’s heaven, hell, and countless pantheons. After those first two days, she stopped visiting my room in the afternoon and only did so early in the morning and at night before going to sleep. The very second hour I woke up was spent listening to her rambling on how she spent the vast majority of her time with Ballarak, jumping from market to market in order to gather the necessary objects and provisions for our travels. It was a rather shallow attempt to feel ‘adult’ and ‘useful’, still, it was proof of her growth, alas not a very smart move on Ballarak’s part.

Because of those market outings, the king, who apparently was not fond of being rejected, learned of Ballarak’s whereabouts through his guards. As such, on one of those outings, a guard approached them with a letter inviting, once again, Ballarak to court. It was an ultimatum, stating that if he did not come by his own volition then rougher methods had to be used. Clearly, refusing the king this time was not an option. Thus, Ballarak went into hiding and, since Julie was always around with him, she hid as well causing Belluth to carry the weight of all the preparations.

Two days after I woke up, we escaped from the city through one of the tunnels on the lowest level. An old tunnel that was once filled with iron veins, now empty and used as nothing more than a smuggling highway for not-so-legal herbs. Unsurprisingly, one of Ballarak’s acquaintances offered to lead us around the intricate labyrinth that was the dwarven tunnel system. It was me, Julie, Ballarak, three horses, three backpacks full of food, camping utensils, tents and first aid kits, all led by this squarish dwarf with biceps wider than his whole face. While I regretted not having the opportunity to look around for information about our father, I was at least a bit relieved to know that Belluth had taken the task upon himself. He gave us letters to deliver to some of his acquaintances, both in dwarven and elven lands, explaining our situation and calling for old favors to be fulfilled. The dwarf also promised to keep in touch through the guild for updates about his discoveries about our father, though I was forced to explain, in part, the source of my strange condition. And so, after a month from setting foot out of Drughmin’s walls, our merry group was about to reach the northeast checkpoint between the dwarven kingdom and Argon, a few hours away from the towering grey wall and silver-glow gates.

As the ten-meter tall gate and attached walls came into view, Ballarak looked back, towards the shorter mountains we just climbed, and let go of a disgruntled sigh.

“What goy you sighing so sadly?” Asked Julie as she goaded her horse forward in an attempt to reach Ballarak’s.

[Of course she would fall for it…]

“Nothing, really-” Replied Ballarak with a melancholic tone as he forced himself to look away from the road behind “-It’s just…hasn’t this past month been a bit…dry?”

“Dry? What do you mean dry?” Asked Julie with a more than clear hint of surprise and doubt as she glanced at me for a short second.

“Yes, I mean. In the month it took us to reach here, whether we traveled across mountains, hills, forests, or riversides, all we faced were one scrawny group of bandits, a rock mountain salamander and a pack of wolves. It’s so boring! Don’t ya think?” Answered the dwarf with a great number of gestures of his hands.

“Let him be, Julie-” I said after a sonorous click of my tongue and a vicious glance at Ballarak “- those are just the ramblings of an old man longing for adventure. He’s delusional!”

“Who’s an old man ya bastard?!-” Shouted Ballarak as his face became livid “- I’ll show ya who’s an old man, ya sick joke of a mage! Come fight me!...-”

As it happened, it was not the first time such a discussion came to be. It so happened that Ballarak was afflicted with wanderlust and that “spark” he was looking for was, apparently, strictly connected to it. Thus, my carefulness when it came to fights and the such, was in the way of his spark. I had been warned by Belluth of the fickleness of master blacksmiths and artisans on the same level, but I never expected to be at the level of a child’s tantrums. The most efficient way to counter them was to simply ignore the man and spur my mount forward.

“Halt!-” Shouted vigorously a guard as he placed himself between me and the gate, twenty-something meters away. In the half-wakefulness of my semi-meditative state, our group had covered the remaining distance between us and the corner of the dwarven kingdom where it opened to the elven lands “- State your name, purpose and proof of identity!”

“We’ll do no such thing” Answered Ballarak gaudily as he puffed out his chest to look more menacing.

“What?” Asked the guard in a threatening tone as he reached for the handle of the sword dangling at his waist.

“Please, forgive my companion’s rude remark-” I hurriedly said as, in a quick motion, I jumped off the horse and placed myself between the two bickering dwarves “- He meant no disrespect but what he said stands true. We have a letter here, Northeast border captain’s eyes only. I’m sure you understand what it means”

“Oh really?-” Replied the guard skeptically “- And who’s this letter from, uh?”

“Royal Guards Captain, Belluth Fuiloath Edar’Aibhni” Replied Ballarak with a smirk under his thick beard.

Upon hearing the name and position, the guard panicked slightly, darting his gaze between the three of us in search of confirmation. In that brief time, he must’ve come up with a plausible answer to his worries and, as the shadow of panic dissolved, a cocky, know-it-all grin full of misplaced pride appeared on his shaved face. Seeing as he was about to say something dumb and, wishing to spare him from humiliation and us from wasting any more time, I grabbed the sealed letter and placed it right in front of his face. Which paled the moment his eyes lingered on the wax bearing Belluth’s seal.

“I-I…F-Forgive my impudence, I did not recognize you sirs as messengers from the Royal Guards Captain, Lord Belluth. I beg you to excuse my rudeness” Said the stammering dwarf as he bowed deep low.

“Ehm, we’re not really…You know what? Fine, all is forgiven-” I said, deciding to play the role of the noble’s messenger to waste as little time as possible “- Lead us to your captain”

“Ah!-” Exclaimed the guard, jumping on the place and straightening his back “- I am sorry to inform you that the captain is currently seeing guests, so he may not be able to see you promptly”

“That’s fine-” I replied sighing, blaming myself for the wishful thinking that everything would flow rapidly and smoothly “- Then lead us to a waiting room and have someone warn us when the captain is available. Is that feasible?”

“Y-yes, of course, sir-” Said the guard bowing once again and causing heavy drops of sweat to fall from his forehead as he did “- If you would, please, follow me, I will lead you there immediately”

[Damn-] I thought as I nodded to the guard, jumped back on my horse, and followed the sweating guard towards the gate [- Either Belluth is that respected, or feared enough for this guy to almost piss his pants. It may prove to be a connection far more useful than I initially thought]

As we silently followed the guard, I took the chance to finally look at the gate in front of us. More than ten meters of solid, grey stone placed to form a long and wide wall from one side of the pass to the other. Around a hundred meters in total length. The whole structure had several irregularities, structures either smaller or as tall as the wall came out from the dwarven side of the border to create rooms, stables, and one especially long row of barracks with a sandy training ground in front of it. Right in the middle of the road, taking up over seven meters, stood the shiny gate. The few sunny rays reaching below the shade of the wall, bounced off the silverly gate in brilliant streaks of ivory. The gate itself appeared to be made of a silver-like material, which made me question its nature and, as I was doing so, Ballarak smirkly said.

“So ya noticed it too, uh. Quite a marvel that it. A giant gate like this all made out of cold silver” The dwarf said as he moved his horse closer to mine.

“So it really is cold silver, uh?” I replied, genuinely surprised and interested.

“Yes, sir-” perkily answered the guard, gaining back some of his face’s color “- It was commissioned several years ago, five if I’m correct. Only two of a kind those gates are, one here and one at the northern checkpoint. Both fully made out of cold silver”

“What’s cold silver?” Jumped in the conversation Julie.

“Lass, mhh, that be difficult to explain…-” Replied Ballarak as he scratched his chin thoughtfully “- to make things simple, cold silver is a special metal crafted in a special manner and needing special care before becoming able to withstand all sorts of spells. Real expensive thing, that is”

“But why are the two of you so surprised to see it?” Pressed on the curious girl.

“It’s not normal to have a gate made of cold silver. I can’t even fathom how much it must’ve cost” I replied.

“Ya-” Added Ballarak as he eyes hungrily the gate “- normally you’d ask for a shield or a sword made of cold silver. If ya wanna be cheap, an alloy with cold silver. Even then, a buckler can come cost ya like a house. On the cheap side maybe, but still a house”

“What?!-” Julie shouted in surprise, startling the horse and almost falling off her saddle “- Why would anyone spend so much?”

“That’s because, as the sirs said, cold silver is capable of withstanding all sorts of spells. Magic becomes pointless in the face of cold metal, young lady. In recent years some monsters and elven rogue mages have tried to infiltrate our borders so this gate was commissioned to fend off their attacks…I saw it in action just two months ago. Truly amazing it was how the metal absorbed the spells like it was nothing” Explained the guard with a vivid hint of proudness in his voice. Clearly new to his job, the guard took great pride in his position on the border.

“I’d hate to correct you but you’re only half-right-” I replied, more to instruct my sister than to correct the guard “- Cold silver doesn't nullify magic, as you explained, it simply absorbs all mana thrown at it, stores it and slowly expels it over time…though with a gate this big, it might as well just be nullifying magic”

“Aye, lad-” Added Ballarak with a gaudy laugh and a heavy slap on my shoulder “- Ya truly know a ton of stuff, uh. I took it for a joke when ya said ya studied all sorts of stuff in that fancy academy of yours. Anyway lass, think of it as a glass bucket. Ya can throw heaps of sand in it and it’ll work just fine but the moment it weighs too much, the bucket will break and sand will bury ya feet”

“True that, master Ballarak-” Replied the guard as he stopped in front of a wooden door with big, metal bolts all over it “- but I doubt there will ever be a mage capable of filling the whole gate with mana…Anyway, if you would mind waiting here as I call someone to take care of your horses and I’ll lead you to the waiting room”

It took just a couple of minutes for the guard to disappear and a young girl, not older than fourteen to appear and take hold of our horses. Not truly trusting the men manning the border, we took back the bags we previously attached to the saddles. A couple more minutes passed by before the first guard came back to lead us to the waiting room. Inside, the thick stone wall appeared much more spacious than what it looked like from the outside. A trick of the eye most certainly caused by the forwardness of the gate’s position in relation to the whole wideness of the wall.

The inside was simple. One very long and straight corridor adorned only with several empty sconces along with the blackened marks left by the flames and a few windows not bigger than the size of a head. There were no other ornaments. No paintings or oils, carpets, chandeliers, statues or fancy heralds. The only things that interrupted the monotony of it all were the same kind of bolted doors and a weapon rack every once in a while. Unlike the military buildings in Blackwall, the northeastern gate truly seemed like a military base.

Along the long hallway, we crossed two doors, a flight of stairs, another, much alike, long hallway and finally, the guard stopped in front of a large double door, explaining how he would come back once the captain’s business had finished. The so-called waiting room, though much more spacious and adorned with a large wooden table and wooden chairs around it, was as simple and monotone as the previous corridors. The one and only thing bringing color into the grey room was the large herald picturing the hammer and the sword crossed behind a mountaintop in black over a golden background. It was only half an hour later, during which I meditated, Julie slept and Ballarak muttered about the chair’s lack of comfort, that the guard came running into the room, apologizing profusely and telling us that the captain was about to finish his business.

We followed the guard through some more corridors and stairs until we reached a more isolated corner of the structure with a door much bigger than a normal one but not quite a double door. In front of it, six neatly placed stools were arranged and, on either side of the door, two men dressed in all black leather armor and all but their eyes covered with black cloth kept guard. Their eyes met mine, questioningly, inspectingly, and I did the same. One, the shorter and bulkier, carried two swords, one was a short sword and the other a scimitar, along with countless knives strapped all over his body. The other had a large shield strapped to his back and a spear resting on the wall. They clearly were not part of the border guards.

Julie sat down and Ballarak did so too beside her while I stood on her side, keeping both guards always in my field of vision. Neither guard spoke or moved a finger. The only part of their body that seemed to not belong to a statute was their eyes, which had to blink every once in a while. Then, a couple of minutes later, the door swung open and a tall figure crossed the threshold. It happened in less than a second, me reaching for my sword and pointing at the figure, that is. Along, of course, with the two guards pointing their weapons at me.

The figure was tall, so much so that it had to bend a bit to pass through the door. It wore all black. The boots were black, the baggy trousers were black, the skin-tight, long-sleeve shirt was black, along with the incredibly large hooded parka. Its face was covered by a see-through veil, clear enough for me to see only its bright red eyes. Its hands, even though covered by black gloves, were full of rings. At times even two or three on each finger. It held no weapon. Nor sword, knife, staff, or bow. Yet, the aura the dark figure emanated caused me to jump at my weapon. A voice deep inside my head screaming danger and death, prompting me to make the first move if I didn’t wish to die.

“Oh my, this is quite interesting…At ease, boys” Said the figure in a feminine voice full of authority and nonchalance.

With that simple command, the two guards retracted their weapons and resumed their original position. This time, instead of staying at each side of the door, they stood at each side of the figure. I, on the other hand, did not sheathe my weapon. I stood there motionlessly, with the tip of my sword firmly pointed at what I believed was the figure’s throat while Julie and Ballarak looked at me with worry and confusion in their eyes.

Upon seeing my reluctance to sheathe my weapon, the figure’s aura changed from engulfing the whole corridor into a thin bubble that encased my head. I felt the full weight of the figure’s mana around my skull, pushing into my ears, making them ring as if underwater. My breath became labored with the attempt to withstand that assault. Little shocks ran through my brain as I felt blood swarm to my face and clog my thoughts. Just then, when my thoughts were becoming dizzy, the aura’s force relented. No more it tried to squash my head, instead, it kept hold of my throat. Not choking me, but rather keeping me in place. More than a minute had lasted that silent battle.

“It is quite peculiar, for a child as young as you to have such sharp instincts…or perhaps senses?-” Said the figure thoughtfully as it swayed its way toward me until the tip of my blade was resting on the place where the collarbones meet “- Say, what is your name?”

“R-*cough* Raphael” I replied with difficulty as I pushed down my throat the choking sensation.

“Only Raphael?” Probed the figure for more.

“To a stranger?-” I asked rhetorically, keeping my gaze steady on the figure’s eyes, even though the fluctuation of its mana were making it difficult to do so “- Yes”

“Great instincts, senses, reflexes and a careful eye for danger. You really are quite the interesting specimen…mhhh…Ah, as I thought-” The figure said as it took hold, faster than I could realize, of the guild’s badge I had around my neck. It was tucked under my shirt and the chain was supposed to be difficult to spot under my clothes, yet the figure was able to spot it, move and grab it before I could even see it move “- An adventurer. Iron tier, uh?... I’ve always thought the ranking system was a bit flawed. Clearly, you deserve a much higher rank than this, on account of your abilities, that is…I wonder why you are still at the iron tier”

[Fuck! Now it knows my full name!] I thought as my mind raced to find the possible repercussions of that.

Then, as fast and abrupt as it all began, the whole encounter ended. The figure swatted my sword out of the way and carefully placed my badge back into my clothes. The closer the figure got, the less I was able to move, as if its mana seeped into my muscles and chained them in place. Once it was done, the figure patted my clothes as if to fix them and wordlessly moved away from me. It spoke a strange language and the guards began to move along with her, leaving the now silent hallway without so much as a word.

“One more thing-” Said the figure as it walked down the hallway towards the stairs “- one adventurer to another. If you plan to visit the elven lands, keep away from Bolton’s grey bark forest. Dark things have been happening there…Good luck, no-name Raphael”

[Yeah, no doubt about it. It clearly knows my name!] I thought as my legs ceded and I slumped down on the nearest chair.

The subsequent two hours were spent explaining to the captain the event of the hallway and the reason behind our visit. He, a man in his late forties- in human’s years- with a short, well-cured salt and pepper beard and fiery hazel eyes, expressed his concerns regarding the figure’s, who apparently was a woman, interest. He explained that the woman, whose name he chose not to divulge, was fickle and difficult to entertain. Her interest in me could mean a great blessing or a dark fate, either way, the captain suggested I watch my back constantly.

Once settled the matter of the strange woman, the letter and its contents became the main topic. As we expected, Belluth called for an unfulfilled favor and asked the captain to give us all information regarding those who passed through the gate, information that is usually not divulged. Especially not to non-dwarves. The captain, understandably, was a bit reluctant but soon caved in once we explained that Belluth was a friend of the family and swore to help us. Seeing the benefit of making a good impression on us, and thus on Belluth, the captain agreed to help, asking only that we put a good word for him with Belluth.

A letter was sent via eagle to the north border gate requesting the details of those who crossed the border and looked like our father in the past three months. While waiting for the letter of response, our group was given access to the archives and a room in the barracks. Those who enter and exit the kingdom through the border are required to show some proof of identity. Whether it is a family seal, a written document, or an adventurer’s badge doesn’t matter so long as it has name, age, and race on it. Furthermore, the border guards keep a rough description of the subject along with the documents regarding their identity. Luckily, all this is kept for one year before being destroyed in order to make space. Apparently, as the guard assigned to us explained, this was a measure issued by the royal family to stop the clandestine bandits groups eager to set base in the dwarven mountains.

It took us around five days to examine the records of the past three months and another five days for the letter from the northern border to come. All in all, only three candidates matched our father’s profile. One was from the northeast gate while two went through the northern. All of which traveled from the dwarven kingdom to the elven lands. As we said our farewells to the captain and the border guards, we sent a letter back to Belluth updating him on our discoveries and on our next stop. Then, we saddled our horses, signed the necessary papers, and crossed the border into the Argon Kingdom.

Part 2

- ELODOR A. EVERGARD’S POV -

[The third…is close…close…stop it…-] Said a disembodied voice in my head as my conscious self swam in swarms of ideas and concepts. A voice so far that seemed to reach me from beyond the deepest trenches of the ocean, yet so close that it seemed to whisper in my ear. Light and dark mixed, colors lost their shape and purpose creating streaks of colorful light passing by me, leading me to a thousand different worlds. Even through all this, my body could not move, it simply would not listen to me, and my mind was groggy as if it was stuck in that minute between wakeness and sleep [-...STOP IT!]

I jumped awake in my seat. Sweat covering my forehead and neck while a lingering electric sensation ran through my skull and spine. My breath was labored, so much that my lungs beat rhythmically against my ribs, causing a soft pain to spread evenly like water all over my chest. All around me felt dulled. Sounds, colors, movements, everything felt grey. Only my thoughts were clear but even so, I could not understand them.

[The third lock? Am I going crazy? Am I insane? Those words are just like the seer’s…Was that a prem-] I thought almost morbidly as my body sunk into my chair, that is, before a sudden loud voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Lord Evergard!” The male, deep, cold, and authoritarian voice shouted.

Suddenly, I was reminded of my position and purpose. My eyes darted around the room, just to be sure. The white marble of the columns, the red, gold and black carpets, the heralds portraying the royal family’s coat of arms, the golden chandelier, the fancy and elegant blackwood table filled with papers and maps. I was indeed in one of the many conference chambers in the royal castle. The reason I was called? I remember it too clearly:

War.

“Lord Evergard, are you with us?” Said the owner of the deep and cold voice at the head of the table.

“Yes, Duke Van Grephen-” I promptly answered, bowing my head respectfully towards him “- Forgive my blunder. It will not happen again”

“I can understand your disarray regarding the loss of an important figure to you such as this ‘seer’ you spoke about-” Said the duke, a man beyond his forties with long, flowing red hair and a well-trimmed beard in the classic Hadoc style. His eyes were green and his gaze piercing. Along with his strong jaw, his broad physique created the perfect picture of a noble warrior and a charismatic leader “- but I urge you to keep your focus on this meeting. You have been chosen by the king, like everyone in this room. It is both a great honor and an even greater responsibility”

“Yes, you are right my lord-” I replied whilst bowing even lower “- It shall not happen again”

“Good-” Said the duke satisfied before fixing his elbows on the table, interviewing his fingers and resting his chin below them “- I take it you all received the letter explaining the gist of this meeting together with my summons, correct?”

A unanimous cacophony of “yes”, “of course” and fervent nods erupted in the room. I, too, added my own voice and motions to the mix. A feeble attempt to regain some respect for my peers, yes, but I always believed it better to be servile on occasions such as these. Nonetheless, I took the chance to explore with my eyes those other nobles present in the room. Some I knew personally, some I saw in passing, others I had never seen, and some I only heard rumors and whispers at balls. There were more than twenty of us. Most were barons, like me, and viscounts. Three were counts and one was even a marquis, the highest ranked among us, of course, without counting the duke.

“Then I shall be brief as we all have our roles and many a topic to delve into-” Said the duke stoically, without a single change in his demeanor or expression “- Alas, this is no light topic to converse with a cup of tea and a warm breeze. No. You all, nobles of all ranks, have been called here for one sole purpose. Our king has made the choice to go to war”

Silence. A deep meaningful silence seeped into the room like mist. Like a low cloud, it weighed heavily on our heads, stripping us all of our breaths. We knew. From the start we knew, but it felt different, it felt real, once those fateful words were pronounced by the duke. I could tell at a glance. Some were elated by the news, eager to prove their worth in the eyes of our king. Some struggled to form words, maybe even thoughts. Others, like me, knew what that word meant. War…another synonym for death and suffering. The adding of lands at the cost of the blood and tears of our soldiers, of our people.

“I heard rumors of it, whispers really, that the northern lands of the Three Crowns are the king’s target-” Said the marquis, breaking the silence in our stead while eyeing the large, detailed map at the center of the table “- Is that the king’s target? Is our king aiming to hit the wounded North Kingdom?”

“It has been up for debate at court, yes-” Replied the duke seemingly satisfied with the strategically intelligent remark of the marquis “- But no, the king’s aims are the War Lands”

“Is it because of the chaos plaguing them?-” Asked a baron two seats away from me “- I understand they may be an easy target, especially now after the earthquake, but isn’t there little to gain in annexing those impoverished lands?”

“Alas, you lack insight, Lord Verneon-” Scoffed the marquis “- while you may have a golden eye for commerce, you lack the mind of a general”

“Lay off with those remarks, marquis-” Threateningly said the duke, changing his expression for the first time in one of mild anger and disdain “- May this be a warning to all. I will not tolerate this pitiful competition of words between us. We are one front, one man under the king’s banner. And here, in this room, to this group, I speak with the king’s voice. Do not make the same mistake twice”

“I understand, Duke Van Grephen-” Replied the marquis between clenched teeth “- I shall keep your words to mind”

“As it should be-” Continued the duke now regaining a stoic expression “- Now, regarding Lord Verneon’s question. It is not so much as gaining useful territories but rather preventing the Belzians from gaining too much of them. Word has reached us that Belza is preparing for war. It is highly unlikely that their aim is the Three Crowns Kingdom since a truce was signed”

“Pardon my interruption-” Said a viscount I did not know the name of “- but is that also the reason why the Three Crowns closed their borders and ceased all trades?”

“Indeed, Viscount Val Djien-” Answered the duke “- The truce, the close borders, and the cease of all trading. Those have been interpreted as signs that the Three Crowns are not thinking of joining in the war that is to brew…It is a sad thing to say, but the War Lands have always been a lawless place where no king was ever able to rule and, as the name clearly states, was is of common occurrence. With the collapse of the twin Migur, a great port and one of the five greatest cities, the War Lands are in utter disarray and as divided as ever. It is with those circumstances that Belza plots to overtake as much land as possible without the need to raise an overwhelming army”

“Then, is Belza perhaps aiming to conscript the citizens of the captured lands?” I asked half-knowing the answer already.

“Yes…yes, that is what we fear. Belza is known for birthing war-seeking kings. It has always been a dream of the Belzians kings to unify the Raiden continent under their banner. Allowing them to raise their numbers exponentially is out of the question” Replied firmly the duke.

“Thus the need to conquer lands of our own-” Added the baron next to me, Lord Melterose “- both to prevent Belza from taking them and raising our own numbers in tow. Of course, those lands could also be used as cushions against Belza’s possible march”

“Quite right indeed” Nodded the duke and all nobles nodded along.

“Then, if I may ask-” Continued Lord Melterose “- what does the king wish of us? Only few of the present here have ever participated in the war effort. I am ashamed to say this, but I know very little of war. My family and lands have always thrived on fishing and shipbuilding. I fear I may be a burden when it comes to war”

“I applaud your spirit and solidity of thought-” Replied the duke, the hint of the tinies smile finally crossing his face “- You are, of course, right indeed. In this room are gathered most low-ranked nobles. Some rose from knighthood, some come from families who had been to war, but most come from families that, as stated by Lord Melterose, know nothing of war…Indeed. However, during this war, the king wishes not to spare any effort, thus your required presence”

“Forgive me, my lord-” Interrupted the viscount sitting across from me “- but I cannot seem to grasp our role in this war. Are we to assume we will be tasked with the logistic side of the war effort?”

“Not entirely, no-” Calmly replied the duke, seemingly ignoring the disrespect of the interruption “- what you just said, Lord Bellenar, is today’s main topic…You will all take action on the active side of the war, leading your own troops across the War Lands. You will be given command of your men, of course, along with a small number of troops under the king’s name. You will be tasked with…missions of low relevance and accompanied by an experienced officer. Now, I see some of you feel dejected at the mention of ‘low relevance missions’ but please, do not worry. Think of them as a way to demonstrate your worth to the king”

“So-” Said the marquis “- is the king testing us or training us?”

“Both. Some of you are already accustomed to the ins and outs of war and thus only need testing. The rest are in need of both…I must remind you that, every little effort counts. The king has expressly said that he is willing to raise the rank of any capable commander. Any other question?” Answered the duke.

“How long does this ‘training period’ last and what is expected of us during it?” Questioned a baron on the far side of the table.

“It will last until the generals deem you worthy of more relevant missions based on the assigned officers’ reviews and what is expected of you may vary. Now, if there are no more questions, let us begin to delve into a more detailed conversation” Said the duke as he snapped his fingers and the nearby butlers and maids reached for several stacks of documents and scrolls neatly disposed on the shelves.

I couldn’t believe my eyes and ears. It all felt like a distant dream. The blood, the tears, the cities burned and razed to the ground. The armies that rose and fell. My brothers, my brethren, constant suffering and mourning. As I watched the documents regarding the required number of troops, provisions, spy reports, and important figures with wide eyes, I was reminded of the war I saw as a child and the words of Madam Manto.

[...War. The end of our world brought forth by the very manifestation of war…]