Seeker of Truth

[Galadas]

Reemus had fallen silent, he felt no words were in order. He was surprised, just as Luchin, that what happened had taken place, and he could not express the anger he felt towards the situation. Melidis was never supposed to have attacked, not after they had only occupied Ormwell a few days ago, such an attack came to soon! And what of his own army moving massively against their enemy, with Aydindril only leagues away, he had been wrong in leaving Evana, Luchin and Tyron behind to hold his place as he awaited audience with the Dark Sisterhood. Now his pride and body had been wounded, and he would start from scratch again.
His eyes followed Luchin as he was taken apart by Lord Rahl, cold man. He crunched his teeth, knuckles turning white.
‘I find it strange,’ Evana’s clear voice said. She stood next to him, sword in her hand, face disorientated.
Reemus placed his eyes upon the beautiful daughter of Marshall Tora, her father would be most happy to see his arch-nemesis out of play. ‘What?’ he asked harshly.
‘The circumstances of your return,’ Evana replied, when finally her eyes fixed upon him, dangerously cold. ‘What happened to Ademai and Salesia?’ He could feel her immediate presence, but he did not answer her question, his mind not carrying about the lives of others for a moment. His own was the most important now, he had been lost, his honor had been broken by the man who had every rope in hand.

Ademai made her way towards the gates, wading through wounded soldiers, corpses and Generals screaming to bring back order. The damage had been done, Melidis had struck upon their armies when they were weakest, and now they could only hope that another fight would not occur until Marshall Tora would arrive with his men. They could no longer do it on their own, many had died and proved that.
She stopped for a moment, her eyes finding the towers of Aydindril far in distance. She wondered if Melidis, the Confessors, would look upon this battle as a victory or a loss, for the most deaths had probably fallen on Reemus’ side.

‘Reemus, where are they?’ Evana repeated her question, nodding at Tyron that he could start picking up the pieces, she found herself having more authority than General Shorshall at the moment, though she had to get used to him not being Marshall anymore, a position he had held over seven years. It took him this long to make a proper mistake, his first, she understood not why Lord Rahl had such a harsh reaction. Yes, soldiers had been killed, and they had not made progress, but the loses weren’t heavy that they were vulnerable, or at least, she thought so.
‘General Lyra has been killed by the Sisterhood, and I fear Ademai has to be tracked down, last I saw her we took on a powerful wizard,’ Reemus finally replied.
‘Selfish bastard!’ Evana reacted with an angry face, and pushed against the strong man beside her. She had loved Salesia with all her heart, and felt that sorrow was taking over her heart.
Reemus had a similar reaction, his brow formed a V, as he stared down upon the daughter of Marshall Tora. ‘You know not what you talk about! I cared for them, much! But one can’t change the past!’ he said angrily.

Joan felt as if he was naked and alone in the cold north, as a breeze chilled his entire body, but he was still there. On his horse, next to a Mord Sith, who he stared to fear more now. He tried to keep calm, but his head began pumping around blood way to fast, for him to think clear. His eyes speeded through their surroundings, he felt chocked, his whole body one massive stone of muscle. His skin was tightened, eyes flashed with fear. He stared at Elize for a few more moments, deciding he wouldn’t be able to escape, for he was nowhere equal to her strengths.
‘I was touched by a Confessor, when I tried to save you, do you know what that means?’ he asked silently. ‘I mean, everyone knows what a Confessor’s touch can do to a man or woman, but I… it… I wasn’t… turned, or something.’

[Cara]

Aslen stood up and looked out the window. The sky was still pink from the early dawn, but it was marred by the black curling smoke that rose outside the walls of Aydindril. A sinister reminder of the events of the night before. She stretched and was pleased to note that she had fully recovered. The drain of her powers had bee so that she could have pushed herself too far. She had never Confessed so many in such a short time. She wasn't even aware she could.
Aslen quickly dressed and rushed down to the Council chambers. Even though the sun was barely over the peaks, she knew that she couldn't be afforded the luxury of rest.

Elize barely paused in her gait, but after spending the last few weeks in Elize's company, Joan could tell that the news disturbed her. It might have been for the fact that she didn't give a snarky reply that he knew it bothered her. Was that good?
After what seemed like a while, Elize responded. "You are fortunate," she said, keeping her eyes open, forever alert. "Confessor magic is the one magic that Mord-Sith are vulnerable to," she said. Her voice did not waver; nothing showed, but Joan could tell there was fear in that statement. It made him think.
"What would happen if... if you were Confessed?" Joan ventuered.
"I would die," Elize responded, simply.
"That is... it?" he asked, unsure. "No, that can't be right," he said thinking. "I remember how frightened you were back in that town. You were going to be Confessed..."

"Andrioth," she said, her heart warming at the sight of her wizard and dearest friend. He looked tired, as he leaned heavily on his staff - which was more of a tool than a thing to lean on. "How goes it all?" she inquired.
"The general was just going over the numbers..." he said wearily.
Aslen took a breath. "How many?" she whispered. She had been so caught up in their small victory that she had forced from her mind those that had died.
"We lost close to eight hundred men. It pales in the strike against the Daharan empire. Their numbers lay in the thousands. We decimated their ranks. Per your orders, we have taken no prisoners. All captured, able-bodied men, have been Confessed."
Aslen nodded. She felt saddened despite everything. Confession was never something to be taken lightly. It was a sentence worse than death. Your soul was no longer yours. Your mind nothing. It was gone. What filled that void was the need and desire of the Confessor. Aslen understood that not all soldiers were there voluntarily, but it was necessary in war. She had to pull all the stops if the Midlands were to fight Dahara.
"And the sisters?" she asked. Every since Lord Ether Rahl had declared war - although it was unofficial for a long while - he had started assassinating the Confessors. Her numbers were dying. Even before that, their numbers were slowly dwindling. At the moment there were less than fifty Confessors alive. Only three years ago, the Confessors Palace had almost three hundred Confessors, each with a protecting wizard. Lord Rahl had seen to the decline of the Confessors and wizards.
Andrioth looked straight at Aslen. She knew, unlike most other people, that when most people would look away, he looked straight at you. It was how he reacted when he really wished not to tell the news. But Andrioth was not one to balk. "Including the slaughter that Marshall Shorshall oversaw and the battle last night... Thirty-two Confessors are dead."
Only Aslen's Confessor training allowed her from crying out in heartbreak.
Aslen let her Confessor's mask fall down, hiding all her emotions. That meant that there was only fifteen Confessors remaining. In all of Aydindril. Despite the fear and respect that they held, they were if anything, the living symbol of magic and Melidis! Aydindril might have had a victory, but it was hard won. The loss of her sisters was something that couldn't be replaced. The Daharan army was vast and their resources just as large. Lord Rahl knew that his troops were expendable.
He could bloody his troops against the walls of Aydindril for as long as it took to break down the walls. Melidis could not stand forever against such an enormous foe.

Elize gave a silent shudder. Should she tell Joan? Why not, his time was almost up. Lord Rahl would have his way with Joan when they arrived.
"It would have been excruciating. Mord-Sith are the personal guards and strong hand of Lord Rahl. The pain we inflict would be given back to us a hundred fold. Unimaginable, sweet pain. Something that I cannot even comprehend. It is the worst way for a Mord-Sith to die," she said with venom. She paused to calm her breath. "You would have suffered much less, but the result the same. You would essentially be dead. Your mind would only work to please the Confessor... Even their own people are terrified of them. I know not what Lord Rahl has planned, but perhaps you will be able to put a stop to those evil order of women. They make even the cruelest Mord-Sith look like a child."

Luchin stepped into the large tent. It had the crest of Lord Rahl. "My Lord," Luchin started. A hand silenced him.
"I know what you ask," Lord Rahl said, his voice cold. "I would not waste a fine general - Marshall - like yourself. The curse is lifted."
Luchin blinked. "What was...it?" he asked. He felt no different.
Lord Rahl turned to him, a bemused smile on his face. "Marshall, there was never any curse. Not entirely, anyway. It was a test. And you passed. The potion I forced you to swallow would not have killed. Perhaps it would have made you feel like you were dying, but you would be healthy. And you will help me, now that you were Confessed, to bring down the ancient magic of the Confessors. Congratulations. Of course, this will remain between you and me. You won't be able to tell so much as a soul..."
"Yes, my Lord."
"I will be returning to the People's Palace. I will leave you a journey book to stay in contact. I expect you to regroup, strengthen the men, and to follow through with your orders. Do not engage the Home Guard. You will lose. As long as their magic stands, you will not succeed. Wait for further instructions. Is that clear?"
"Of course, my Lord."
"Oh, and make sure Reemus... is reminded of his place. You are a smart man, but do not let arrogance go to your head."

[Galadas]

Reemus’ feet dragged him through the castle of Ormwell, his gaze turned from wall to wall, as he headed towards the council room. He had failed to sleep through the night, making him awake for about 48 hours. It wasn’t that he felt restless because of it, no, he had been through it more often. The night had been indeed long, yet he had been useless, all the measures he would normally take were no longer his to act upon.
He stood silently as Evana gathered the troops, destroyed a complete row of houses to make place for the tents, and moved the camp into the city. She said nothing to him, as if he wasn’t there. Meanwhile Lord Rahl had packed his things and travelled back to People’s Palace. Reemus had expected of him that he would acquire one more talk with the old Marshall, but it did not happen. Everything that came to mind, Reemus had to push back, he was no longer in the position to deal with the problems he used to solve. He had thus spent his time watching and waiting, helping only where he could, sharing a few orders while the camp was being packed and talking to General Tyron about further plans, which were normally very clear to him, but now only Luchin and Lord Rahl possessed that information.
He walked through the open door that lead to the meeting room, he heard only a few voices, but the room fell quiet as he made his presence clear. Most of the Generals and Lieutenants had not yet gotten used to the idea of him not being their leader anymore, and if he was still the Marshall, they all stood and left the room. He was grateful for the fact that Evana was not present. With a few big steps he reached Luchin, who sat at the head.
‘Marshall,’ Reemus greeted him, yet the word sounded sour in his mouth. It would take a long while for him to get adjusted to the idea, but he had promised himself he would not make any attempts to destroy Luchin’s reputation. There was simply too much at stake for them to risk a vital mistake. ‘I’ve received word from Marshall Tora, he and his first few legions will be arriving in about five days,’ he said and sat down. His words were formal, fair enough. ‘I thought it be best to warn you about Marshall Tora before you get to meet him,’ he paused, but needed no nod from his old friend, to know he would only do good by telling him. ‘Mikail Tora is not a very nice man at times, though it will seem he is. He will give you compliments, trust me he will, and he will hope to win you over. He takes any opportunity to rule the entire army, and lord Rahl will not stop him, because our lord rather has his Generals fighting in order to eliminate the weak. He’s a cruel man, and you best act towards Tora as you would act against someone from a different rank, because that is the only way to make sure he’ll never bother you again.’
Luchin hesitated on sayings something, but no word left his mouth.
‘Besides that, you and I both know that your strategic skills are not as proper as those of other Generals, you’re a good fighter, but…’
‘I was told by Lord Rahl to remind you of your place, Reemus, good friend. And I don’t think it is up to you to tell me what I am not,’ Luchin replied, something distant in his voice.
‘No, of course not,’ Reemus replied, though he cared not for what his place was. ‘I suppose then, that I’m legit to make suggestions. I suggest, Luchin, that you start building a second wall, attached to the current one, so Marshall Tora’s army can camp there, it is far too dangerous not to,’ he said. ‘Oh, and I suggest you listen little to Evana, because she might act as if she knows a lot, but she will just try to do the complete job for you.’

Joan gasped, he had his own thoughts about the Confessors, of which one once had asked his farther for a favor, but he wouldn’t ever compared one with a Mord-Sith. It seemed the world was a much darker place behind that big magical wall. He pressed his body together, as if a cold breeze had hit him. His mind worked out a few things that he had not discussed before. He understood a bit why he was being brought to that strange place, because of the effect a Confessor had on him.
He replied with no words, as they steady rode on, reaching their goal one step at a time. A big black buildings of towers and houses, reached out before them, and Joan felt his heart collapse. He stared at the road they had left and wished for some miracle. He did not want to go on, not with the Mord Sith, and he never wanted to meet another Confessor again. He wished for his home, his sisters, the long green valleys and the sweet life he once had. It seemed ages again since he crossed the wall, yet it had not been more than days. ‘Please, don’t take me any further,’ he begged, his voice a whisper.

Ademai had found her way back, though she had not found the person she was looking for. The entire night she had been searching for Reemus, but it seemed the world did not want her to find him that night, instead she had trusted herself at the caring hands of the healers, who washed her fine broken skin with their harsh hands and said no word while doing it. She needed that care, her whole body had been ripped at the last few nights, and she deserved a little female company for once. Real female company, better than those idiotic soldiers or the dashing Generals, who were all but dashing. She would hit Reemus on the hand if she ever found him, especially now that she had heard his position had been taken from him, and Luchin had received the seat of Marshall.
With one smooth movement, she left her own room and headed towards the outside. It was there that Evana joined her in her walk.
‘You’ve been well, I see,’ the daughter of Marshall Tora said with a grin.
Ademai gave the woman nothing more than a cruel smile. ‘I used to bath with all my sisters, fine would only be to be in their company once more.’ She had no means of talking much longer with this woman, she loathed her, because she acted as if she was better than everyone. She was a dangerous weapon, one managed by no other than Marshall Tora.
‘But you are not, and as I’m correct, you’ll be serving Marshall Colodar from this day on, and not your precious Reemus.’
‘You seem happy with that change, lady Tora, far too, if you ask me,’ Ademai replied coldly. ‘I do indeed serve a different Marshall now, but we all know that Mord Siths do not serve but on paper.’
Evana shrugged. ‘We’ve captured one wizard yesterday, you’ve been asked to extract some information.’

[Cara]

Aslen felt frozen as she read the list of the missing and dead. So many! And her spies have told her that Marshal Tora's army was only a few days away. No, they would have to put a stop to that. To let such an army combine and strengthen the one sitting on a few miles outside Aydindril would to bring doom upon them all.
She turned towards the generals and wizards alike. "We need to stop Marshal Tora from reaching Aydindril. And we need to crush Marshal Shorshall's army."
"Mother Confessor, what you ask of is enormous," one of the men said. "Our armies are nothing compared to that of Shorshall and Tora."
"I know. I am ordering a spell to be cast," she said, her face like stone. "A reckoning spell. "
There were worried and horrified whispers. Finally Andrioth spoke. "Mother Confessor, you cannot be serious! Such a spell could hurt us as much as them."
"I see no other choice," Aslen said. She had thought long and hard on this. Such a spell would set loose a plague. The only problem was one it started, it was hard to stop. The magic that it required was immense. Magic that could be found in the Wizard's Keep. But then there was also Lord Rahl's own magic and wizards. He was a wizard himself, and a powerful one. Bringing magic to the forefront could only lead total destruction. But it was the only way. Magic must fight magic, and Aslen felt confidant that they could succeed.

Elize heard Joan and stopped. "Tonight, we will rest. The day is late. We will make camp before we reach our first point and won't go further tonight."
Joan sighed. She hadn't understood him.. He didn't want to go to the People's Palace. He wanted to go home. Back across the Boundary. Back to his family and friends. At least she wasn't going to push him on today. He should rejoice in that fact alone.

Luchin could only nod, as his mind circled around what Lord Rahl had told him. The magic. The Confessor's magic. That he had to wait. Wait! He knew the army would be getting antsy and sitting too long could cause them problems. Also they could run low on supplies. Especially since The Home Guard had started to cut off their trade routes back to Dahara. An army was like a giant starving thing. If it didn't have sustenance and violence, there would be problems. He had to tread carefully. They were no longer protected by Lord Rahl in Daraha, but at the mercy of the Confessors and their magic.
"Yes, thank you Reemus. I will take that all into consideration," he said. He stood. "I have some business that I need to attend to though, thank you for your...wise words." Luchin stood and without another word, turned and left. He needed to think. He didn't dare speak of what Lord Rahl had told him, much less think he could. Lord Rahl said his magic prevented that. Fine, but how would he explain such secretive plans to his generals without arising suspicion? Would his word hold against it all? And Reemus? Did his old friend still support him, or was he still smarting and angry? Would he try and ruin Luchin to make him look a fool? And the Mord-Sith? They only listened to Lord Rahl, and no other. So they would listen to him... He couldn't tell. All he knew was that he could only trust himself.
Luchin thought. Lord Rahl had mentioned the name of a boy: Joan. What did he mean that the boy would change everything? It was strange to think that one boy could do that. Was the boy a wizard powerful enough to destroy the Confessors? Wizards and their magic...

[Galadas]

Reemus shrugged when Luchin left him there, as if he was no more than a normal soldiers, pleading to have other jobs to attend to. He could understand there was much more for Marshall Colodar to do, but not that it would hurt him so much to know. He wished for a moment that it was him having to leave Luchin behind to do his tasks, yet he was the one feeling utterly useless and out of place. With one bold movement, he pushed himself from his seat, feeling a sudden pain burst through his shoulder. One treatment had not made him healed just yet.
He passed down the hallway, stepped outside, where the sun shone low, and called towards the first squire he saw. ‘I require a horse!’ he said, before taking his feet back on the ground, out of find him some scouts.
He was lucky with the first group he found, some of them he could remember by name, having learned them or picked them up. He dared not to speak to those he had no names off, he was General now, one rank closer to them, it felt dangerously close. ‘Basht, Kole, Neef, Sador, Tomson, and Caston, the six of you will join me on a scout,’ he commanded, and the riders nodded at him. They were all cavalry, but the scouting sure wasn’t new to them. The sun was setting.

Joan shivered on the ground, laying close to the fire that Elize had made, but it warmth only his body and not his heart. The Mord Sith was seated against a tree, in the light of the fire he could not see if she was awake or sleeping, watching him or not noticing him at all.
He dared not to move, afraid, even his plans of escape seemed useless. He had thought about it, some many times, but when on the point of doing something, his gut came up short. He was shaken, even though he tried so hard to keep his mind straight, to tell his heart that he had to be brave. It was of no use, any time he had driven himself to calmness, he fell right back into abyss. He was scared for the morning.

With large steps, Ademai made her way to the dungeons, a small set of cells, eight at the least, nothing much for a city as big as Ormwell. It was a sad sight to her, she felt a bit disappointed by the place, she had seen so much better. It was as if it was her punishment.
A beardless young man had been chained to the ground, his eyes opened, looking up at the sky. His mouth moved, saying silent words as he studied the ceiling. She wondered if he was saying a spell, but in truth she knew little of wizards. Her studies had only included the dangers of the Confessors, and the hurting of men. She noticed his eyes suddenly moving towards her.
‘They sent me a Mord Sith,’ his voice said, broken as it seemed, his face was hard.
‘And your name?’ she asked, her gaze following to her agile. She had not used it in a while, but she guessed it would not take much more time.
‘Beaslie Thorne,’ the Wizard answered, standing to his feet.
Ademai replied with a laugh, a cruel one, as she placed the agile under his ribs. ‘Now I require some other information?’

Reemus rode out with his six scouts, into the darkness of the woods. He had one place he wanted to visit: The plains before the city of Aydindril. He had never taken his time to watch it, to see it as the fortress it was. Maybe he could mean something if he had the answers. He signed the two riders ahead of him to take a left, he had ran the way the last time, it had been vague and felt almost as a dream, but he knew the way. He leaded his small convoy through the dark trees, while the sun was disappearing to the West.
‘Where are we going, General Shorshall?’ one of the men asked, he was Sador, young, handsome, and mostly blunt. It seemed his new rank had gotten through.
‘Walls of Aydindril, spying on our enemy,’ Reemus answered.
Most riders gave him a risky look, but they said no word. Walls it was, and they were magnificent.
When they had reached the end of the forest, they found themselves looking over the battlefield where they had fought, and the city that had passed their eyes. Now, in the dark of the moon and the stars, it was a castle of a strange kind of magic, almost seeming to shine, like the moon itself.
Reemus was caught in his breath, but his eyes were not seeing the beauty of the city, but its weaknesses and strengths. Any fort could be taken, he had been taught, even those with no gates. He took no more than half an hour to be done with it. They stood in the darkness of the night, and it made his complete studies a bit hard. He announced their leave, hoping to have found the secret of the city, their victory.

[Cara]

Aslen stood as Andrioth burst into her chambers. "Aslen, if I may be so frank, you would be dooming us all..." he said. She looked out the window at the miles of dead bodies that lay rotting for the carrion outside the city. "A reckoning spell has not successfully been cast since the Wizards of the Days of Old..."
"I understand that. But I see no other way. And I have faith in you," she said.
Andrioth sat down in the bed, his head in his hands. "Please, do not ask this of me," he said. "I say I cannot do this. I am weak compared to the wizards who created this spell., and this magic can be devastating. It requires... too much," Andrioth said, practically crying.
Aslen turned to him, letting her Confessor mask drop. Only with Andrioth, could she be so truthful. Only Andrioth ever saw her real emotions. "I do not demand this service of you, my love," she said, taking his hands. "I ask this. For Melidis. For my people. For us."
Andrioth looked at her, his expression by distraught and bitter. "For us..." he said, hoarsely. "Aslen.... Do you know how long I have wished there to be an ‘us’?" he asked. "But no, our union can never be."
“I know,” Aslen said, softly. “Yet, that changes nothing. Andrioth, do you see another option? If there was another way, I wouldn’t ask this of you.” She sat down next to him, her hand gently rubbing his shouldblades.
Andrioth swallowed. “I will do what I can to prepare the spell...” he said. “I cannot guarantee anything.” He looked her, taking her hands. “Aslen, promise me that you will not have this spell cast until all is lost, for if anything goes wrong with the spell, all will be lost anyway...”
“I promise.”


Luchin sighed to himself as he walked through the camp. The men smiled and gave him nods. Some of his closer comrades came up and gave him a pat on the back. But her was their highest commander now. The army was getting restless. His thoughts were everywhere.
That Confessor that he had met. She had spared him... Why? And what had happened to her?
A messenger suddenly ran up, a young lad, hair falling in his eyes. "Marshall Coladar," he said. "A message." Luchin took the paper from him. It was requesting his presence in the dungeons. There were captives that were being questioned. Luchin feared the method of 'questioning' that was going on. He took a breath. "Get me a horse."


Aslen laid back bed, feeling Andrioth's arms wrapped around hers, their bodies so close that their breath disturbed the silent air. His presence helped calm her frantic thoughts. They would never be able to consummate their secret love. Her Confessor powers prevented that. If she did, then Andrioth would be lost forever Plus their stations. He was First Wizard, and she was the Mother Confessor, yet both so young. Despite knowing this, for a moment she was at peace.
Andrioth sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close.
She closed her eyes and for a moment, lost herself in the feeling of being held by another person. Since the death of her mother, she had never been touched with affection by another human. Her sister Confessors did not count, yet they often sought refuge with each other. Confessors were respected and feared, and she most of all. Even her personal servants were still wary at times around her. Andrioth had become her best friend; her only friend, her one love. She loved him more than she loved herself. And no one could ever know.

Elize looked down at the sleeping boy. In sleep, he seemed restful and happy. She found herself feeling sorry almost for having to disturb such a content sleep. What was being with this silly boy doing to her? Her sisters would laugh at her; she was going soft!!!
Elize tapped Joan with the toe of her boot. He stirred, stretching his stiff limbs. As soon as he opened his eyes, she saw the fear and almost resignation come to his face. It was as if the weight of the world had just fallen on him. “Elize...” She sighed to herself, not saying anything.
“It’s hardly dawn,” Joan said, watching the orange sky in the east.
“We must be on our way early. Lord Rahl will be expecting us.”
Joan dropped his head. “Oh, yes, of course...”
Elize looked at Joan for a moment before saying, “I wouldn’t worry. Lord Rahl wants you alive, or else he would not have gone through all this trouble for me to bring you to him.” Joan glared up at her. Elize frowned, confused. Was that not the right thing to say? She meant to appease his fears. “Are you not happy about this!?” she demanded, irritated. She had tried to be nice, something that she had never done.

Joan watched her carefully, trying to read her. Elize was so difficult to read. “I don’t just care about myself,” he muttered. “I miss my friends, my family, my home!!!” Joan cried in a sudden outburst of emotion.
Elize crossed her arms. “Why would miss such things?”
Joan looked almost astounded at her. “What...how?” he said, not sure how to respond for a moment. “Never mind. You wouldn’t understand,” he said, bitterly.

[Galadas]

Reemus had decided they made camp, the group had sighed, and yelled in disobedience, but they bend eventually. They camped a few hundred meters away from the forest edge, the lights of Aydindril were seen through the dark trees. A watch was switched each three hours. Reemus had decided to do them a favor and take guard himself as well. He sat with Neef at the fire during the night, watching the city shine beyond the trees. He wondered how long it would take to stare at the wonder before he would fall in love with it. Maybe it would make his urge to take the city even bigger.
In the morning, Reemus woke to the sound of the forest, he climbed from his small tent, dressed himself, and greeted the sun with a headache. Sleeping on the gutted ground had never been his specialty. He wouldn’t show it though, he found it easy to lose their trust.
“Aydindril is about to wake, or has woken already,” Sador said, when Reemus sat down by the cooking fire and took a piece of meat that the soldiers had caught in their three hours of guarding. They had not been told about sleeping in the forest, but his men were trained, all of them were, to deal with situations they had no mention off, and make the best of it.
“We leave in an hour, tell everyone to wake, eat, and pack,” he ordered, taking the meat and standing. “I’ll have one last look at the city before we leave.” He commanded Neef to pack his tent, he was still General, which gave him the right to be lazy.


Ademai stared down at the prisoner, as she cleaned the small blade she had used to cut off one of his fingers. Her agile hung at her side, covered with dark blood, as was the wizard. Her face was a mask of cruelty, it had been long since Reemus had allowed her to torture anyone that was as strong as Beaslie. She liked the idea of being challenged, and getting some information out of the loyal jerk was a challenge and continued to be one.
Evana had visited her once, and announced that she would message Marshall Colodar to go to the dungeons.
Ademai didn’t know whether she liked that thought, she still wasn’t too fond of their new leader. All that time, she had seen him rather as Reemus’ personal guardian, a fighter, not a politician. The boy needed some guidance, but she knew Shorshall wouldn’t allow himself not to take action within the army, he was too proud for that.
Beaslie opened his eyes, a death stare. Ademai could only laugh, placing the dagger where the man couldn’t see. “Are you still not going to give up?” she asked, she had taken the agile and held it close to his bare skin. The man didn’t answer her, and she stabbed him with the brute object, that left bruises and pained a man more than a sword ever could. She enjoyed his screaming, and only stopped when the sound of his voice became softer, watching him as he fell back into a rush of sleep, exhausted from the torture.


Joan had no trust in his challenge of making Elise fight for his cause, that would be only a dream, but he couldn’t help lashing out at her, even if they were only words. He understood none of it, it matter not to him that Lord Rahl wanted him alive, because no matter how much he wished for his life, he knew his life was nothing without other material things: family, friends, the small town he had grown up in, one that would one day be his, or at least he would have been part of the council, his right by birth now. Yet, he would have none of it now, only what Lord Rahl had in store for him.
“You’re not human, not alike me! I care for such things, because I care! My father, my mother, my sisters, that girl I love, whose name is Salian, and I was going to marry her, she didn’t know it yet, but I was going to ask her!” he yelled, “And my sisters! Lotte, Masa, they probably miss me, they always miss me, even if I’m out for just ten minutes! But now, I’m here, in Dahara, where Lord Rahl wants me, and what can I achieve? I’m just one boy, I’ve never fought a real battle, and whatever power I hold, it’s not enough for him to destroy all those Confessors, if that’s what he wants!”
Elise just stared at him, with those cold death eyes of her, no words.


Reemus had taken an hour to inspect the city walls, this time by day, hidden behind a few trees. He counted five walls, a fact he already knew, and only one gate that attached the two districts to each other. Crushing through that was going to be hard, he knew that as well.
The tents were packed, the horses and the men fed, and all seemed cautious about their surroundings.
“General Shorshall, I aspect we ride back to Ormwell?” asked Sador.
He had trouble accepting the title, but they weren’t among other soldiers, in the wild, a man better keep his mouth shut or else he would not live to talk again. Even himself, General of Lord Rahl’s second army, had no more rights than any of them far from their host. “No, not yet, we ride South, to meet up with Marshall Tora’s escort, and lead him back to the city,” he spoke, gently stroking the fur of his horse. He looked soundly at the men. “Understood,” he demanded.
The soldiers nodded, jumping on their horses, and waiting for their leader to lead. Marshall Tora was four days away from them, and they would surely meet on the Second day, but whatever happened, Reemus would not return to Ormwell without having spoken to Marshall Tora first. If Luchin caught air of his departure, Ademai would explain to him, she knew his mind better than he did.


The door to the dungeons opened, and Ademai greeted Marshall Colodar with a slight nod. “This one’s a loyal one,” she said to him, joining him by his side, watching over the sleeping prisoner. “The only thing I’ve gotten out of him is that Aydindril is defended at his best, and the villages and towns we’ve taken have only made the city stronger, because now all those who fled have collected themselves at the city.” She watched him try and answer. Reemus was always straight forward with her, sometimes to her own irritation. She just wanted a similar answer from him. “I don’t think I’ll get any more information out of him, he won’t break.” She added, hearing Reemus speak in her head: Well then, be done with it, kill him or make him your pet, whatever suits you best. I’ll get you a better soul, one with less loyalty and lesser guts.
Luchin said no such thing. “Is there no way in which you can break him?”
A question, she didn’t want a question, she wanted an order. “I’ve been trying to break him all night, but I guess I could try harder, if you want me to?” She grabbed for her agile, ready to wake him up. Reemus had told her the tale of how he got captured and was tortured for two whole days and two whole nights, and most of all, how he wouldn’t bend. She didn’t mind trying, it was her way of testing their new Marshall.
“Yes,” Luchin replied suddenly, making Ademai’s face turn into a smile.

[Cara]

Luchin didn't reveal anything as he watched Ademai go to her work. "Stop," he said. This wasn't working. He needed a different path. Sometimes brute force didn't work the way you wanted it.
She turned to him for a moment, her eyes narrowing. It was enough to stop any soldier dead in their tracks. "Of course, Marshall..." The young man gasped in relief, slumping back against the wall.
"Do you know anything about this prisoner? Who he is? Where he was captured? How he was found?"
"He is a wizard. Name Beaslie. He was captured the day before last, defending a Confessor."
Luchin nodded, thinking. He leaned forward, kneeling just far enough from the man, so that he struck out, Luchin would have enough time to react. "Your Confessor... What was her name?" The man just glared back at Luchin. "This is out of curiosity. She is dead, so there is nothing that I could do upon her now. What harm is it in telling me her name?" He turned to Ademai. "Get him water."
Ademai glowered at this request, but did as he asked.
Luchin handed Beaslie the glass. "Drink..." he said. Beaslie turned his face away. "Don't worry. I haven't done anything to the water. And you must be thirsty..."
Beaslie turned a cobalt eye to Luchin. "You...are...the...Marshall?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Luchin smiled, more to himself. "I am..." he said. "Here, drink." Beaslie after a moment, allowed Luchin to pour the water into his mouth. As soon as the water touched his lips, Beaslie lapped it up, much of the water dribbling down his chin. "Now, what was your Confessor's name?"
He hesitated before responding. "Aurey... Confessor Aurey..." he said, his voice cracking just slightly. Ademai raised an eyebrow at this.
"And you were her wizard."
Beaslie nodded, swallowing. His hard shell seemed to have just slightly cracked. It was a strange relationship that Confessors and their wizards seemed to form. The wizards defended their Confessors to the death. Luchin had done some research into the system of Melidis and how the politics were run once he was appointed General. According to his research, a Confessor was appointed a wizard the day of her Coming, when she took her first Confession. That bond was usually for life.
"And you were appointed to her right? How long have you been with her?"
Beaslie seemed to relax at this line of questioning. "Some...years..." He sighed, thinking. "Aurey...was so...young. We were only together for...perhaps...eight...maybe nine...years..." He stared at the space in between his feet.
Luchin nodded. Usually a Confessor would come of age between twelve and fifteen. So his Confessor, Aurey, had to be at least twenty years.
"And how old are you?"
"Twenty-nine."
"Young."
Beaslie opened his eyes, trying to squint out the blood. "Marshall, you look young yourself."
Luchin smiled. "Only twenty-five."
Beaslie couldn't hide his surprise at this, but didn't say anything.
"Excuse me..." Luchin said, standing. "I'll only be a moment," he said, stepping out of the room. He knees cracked as he stretched them out from squatting for so long. He could feel Ademai drilling holes in his back with her eyes. He knew she highly disapproved of what he was doing, but he was Marshall. She dared not to say so.
Ademai was right out there with him. She turned to him as soon as the door was closed.
"Marshall Coladar, permission to speak freely?" she said.
"Permission granted," Luchin said, leaning back.

Elize was silent for a moment. As they rode slowly she finally spoke. "I have a son," she said with a slight frown.
Joan looked incredulously at her. "A son?"
"Yes..." Elize swallowed, hesitating. Perhaps she shouldn't have brought up the subject, but Joan had spoken so fondly of family. What family did she have left, if not her son? Her training as a Mord-Sith had left her with no parents or sister. "His name was... Cale."
Joan was intrigued, and besides he didn't want to ride in silence the whole way, so he asked, "How old is he?"
"He would have been seven and a half, next month."
"Would have?"
Elize shrugged. "I do not know if he lives."
Joan watched her, but her expression did not waver. If she was pained by this thought, it didn't show through her hardened mask.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Why would you be sorry?"
Joan was stunned by the question. It was strange. Sometimes Elize seemed to try to relate to him, but then she would make statements like that. Did she not feel such pain? No, it was evident that she was saddened at time from having to murder her sister. "Because Cale was your son. Is your son."
Elize frowned. "Did I not just say he was my son?"
Joan shook his head in exasperation. "Never mind..." After a moment he looked at Elize, his curiosity getting the better of him. "I didn't know Mord-Sith could marry."
Elize laughed at this. "Marry? Of course not! Mord-Sith are not slaves to the male counterpart. We never marry."
"No, I was just asking who I guess...your son... who the father was..." Joan stuttered.
"Lord Rahl."

Ademai, arms crossed, spat, "Why did you make me stop? I could have broken him eventually. He was mine."
Luchin, relaxed in posture, looked at her. "Break him when? And I do not doubt your skill as a Mord-Sith, but we don't have that time, and did you not see that man was so close to death? He was about to resign himself to that fate."
"I know when a man is close to death..." Ademai hissed. "I have brought many men to that point, a hair's breath from the Keeper's grasp, just to pull them back and do it all over again... And what, your little "chat" helped? He told us nothing of importance!"
"It is important," Luchin said, seeming unruffled by Ademai being so close, though he really would have preferred her being farther away. It was only his training that kept him from flinching from a Mord-Sith.
"Oh? Really..." Ademai said, sarcastically.
"Yes, Ademai. First, we now know that the Confessor he served was Aurey. Aurey, if I remember, is the blood sister to the Mother Confessor. That means that Aurey was close to her sister, Mother Confesor Aslen Lorell. So I'm guessing that our friend, in there, is a Second Wizard, maybe a Third Wizard. Even if Beaslie is only a Third Wizard, it means he the first three gates of Aydindril, or at least as the knowledge of how to open the gates. Aydindril, as you probably know, has five walls, encircling the Confessor's Place and the Wizards Keep. They are different tiers and levels of the city, the more important nobility and dignitaries being close to the center too. Each wall is extremely thick, but also layered in spell after spell. Aydindril stands as a testament to the Confessor's and wizard's magic... We could have a million men and never breach the walls of Aydindril."
Ademai hid her surprise well, but Luchin go the satisfaction of seeing her smirk fade to a thin line.
"I leave up to you for now to get him to use his magic to open the gates for us. Or at least, find us a way, because even when Tora's army meets up with us, it will not be enough, I fear. We have three strongly gifted wizards that Lord Rahl has left with us, and Tora bring's five others I hear. Eight wizards are not enough to break the spells that protect the capital."

[Galadas]

Ademai shrugged, she knew of magic, but her knowledge was limited. She didn't mind being pushed around, yet it didn't feel right to be told by Luchin, mainly because he had a different viewpoint than Reemus. Their previous Marshall used blood shed rather than plainly talking, he sent girls to the Keep, never allowed anyone to act higher than him. Reemus was a better leader, Luchin was a fighter, a soldier with a mind for his sword, yet without one for killing.
She nodded at him, watching him take his leave. She was going to do his bidding, though she had no idea how. As a Mord Sith, she knew better how to hurt than how to talk, Reemus always told her that. It was a challenge she wasn't likely to take, but an order would always remain an order.

The group of riders found a small road a few hours ago, they followed it, all looking around for danger. There was tension, a silence continued the biggest part of the trip. Reemus had only heard a few talking to each other, Sador kept giving him annoying looks, but he paid no attention.
His heart was racing as well, it was only a small group that he had brought along, and to be honest, he had little idea of how far it was riding to find the next holdfast, it could take hours, and he wasn't exactly thrilled to spent an other night in the cold.
Reemus stopped at the sight of a small wagon speeding ahead, having a total of five passengers.
"Why are we stopping?" Sador asked, his eyes fixed on the wagon. "An old man, three girls and two boys, I see no threat in that!"
"Neither do I," Reemus replied.
The wagon stopped, the passengers looked back, even from such a distant, he could smell their fear.
"Well then, General, what do we do with them?" Basht asked, he had drawn his sword already.
Reemus sighed at seeing them all being annoyed by him not taking the decision fast enough for their notion. He kicked his horse, and rode to meet the wagon, only Sador was fast enough to fall in behind him, the remaining first remained staring surprised, before joining their general.

Joan was shocked beyond believe, but he tried to hide it. A Mord Sith and Lord Rahl? He had heard enough of the king of Dahara, if that was a way to call him. He found it strange, maybe he shouldn't, maybe it was normal, but he didn't know. He knew little of their culture, and maybe it was better yet that he didn't came to know much more.
He stared at Elize again. "What is Lord Rahl like?" he asked, it was out before he knew it. A question he hadn't wanted to ask at all, but he did.
She didn't answer him, he hadn't expected it either, embracing the silence. Then she did say a word, surprising Joan. "I don't know what he was like, he's not an easy man."
It was a short answer, so Joan kept his mouth shut furthermore, he would find out who Lord Rahl was soon enough.

Reemus made his horse stop close to the wagon, staring only at the old man, who had begged his horse to stop. He scanned the travelers, their faces, their clothes, the supplies they were taking along. "What town are you coming from, good sir?" he asked gentle. Sador was making a disapproving sound, the others kept their horses a few meters from the wagon, but not the handsome soldier, whose horse was close to his own.
"Tulf, sir," the old man replied. His hair was grey, his clothes smelled like shit, and his eyes never met those of Reemus. They were well aware that meeting Daharan soldiers on the road never meant much good, and it wouldn't.
"Where are you heading?" he asked secondly. The five children were clutched together, protecting each other. The eldest was a girl of about fourteen, the youngest a boy of five. He knew the answer of course, almost all refugees knew they were only safe in one city, and one city alone: Aydindril. So it was no surprise that the man didn't decide to answer. "We'll have the wagon and the horse," he said when a silence had made his soldiers even more uneasy. "You can keep your provisions."
There was sudden movement in the car, the eldest stared at him with deadly eyes, but Reemus took no notion in it. He wasn't afraid of kids, most of them farmer daughters. They should've been happy that he didn't let his soldiers have their way with them.
"The horse and the wagon is all we have, sir," the old man replied in fear.
"You have those kids and supplies, don't lie to me," Reemus snapped. He was the only one of them not having his sword ready to strike, he knew far better than to see a threat in an old man and his kids. "The horse AND the wagon!"
The old man was shaking his head in despair, making General Shorshall growing impatient.
"Do I need to make you hear better?" he asked, making his horse turn sideways, so he was closer to the man that didn't do what was ordered.
He heard an other movement in the car, the fifteen year old leaped forward, knife in hand. Reemus pulled his head back, the blade cutting his skin just barely, blood ran down his neck. He made his horse back off, while Sador jumped into the wagon, disarming the girl.
"Goddamnit!" General Shorshall yelled, his hand against the wound that had been created at the side of his chin, a few inches away from his neck. He gazed angrily at the girl.

[Cara]

Aslen washed and changed quickly. She felt the heated water run down her shoulders, but it would not quell the chill that she felt in her heart. She was almost numb, a strange feeling of pain and sorrow mixed with ice. Her maids helped her dress into her traditional Confessor clothes: white silken robes of the Mother Confessor. Her long, uncut hair, cascading down her back.
"Get me Andrioth," she said. A few seconds later Andrioth appeared. He seemed to not have slept well, his hair, untamed and eyes bloodshot. As soon as the maids left, Andrioth took her in his arms.
"Is everything prepared?" she asked, searching his face. He only could nod.
"May the Creator be with us on this day...."
Aslen nodded, her eyes gazing out the window into the orange of the new day.

Elize turned her face away, so that Joan wouldn't see the water forming in her eyes. She spurred her horse into a brisk trot, Joan's horse following. Lord Rahl. Her lord. Her master. Her protector. Her lover. Her damnation. She had been but a young girl at the time. Eighteen or nineteen. He had choose her above all her sisters, his favorite. She was the cruelest, the most beautiful, within the Keep. She was his, and it was an honor, to go to bed with the Lord Rahl.
Or so she had thought.
Yes? No? Such confusing thoughts and feelings seemed to take upon her while she slept. Her sister's smile, his silky hair making a hallow of red gold around her head. She could see her son's face in her dreams, his laughter, the green of his eyes in the sunlight. NO! It was too much. Why was her past haunting her now? Why?
Things were always so black and white, so clear and perfect. Lord Rahl was master and ruler, and his word was law. Mord-Sith were the privledged chosen, immune to all but the Confessors. The war was meant to be. Dahara would rule. And now? She couldn't say, but she would not let these feelings get in the way of her mission. She would deliver Joan to Lord Rahl, and then she would be rewarded. She could forget about Joan and his strange and painful questions.

Luchin paced, thinking. He had sounded confident about that plan, but there was so much room for mistake and error. And if the Confessors found out what had happened, they would do well to protect themselves. He turned back to Ademai. "I want you to break him," he said. "Own him. He will be the key to Aydindril. To the first gate of Aydindril."
And then Luchin smiled.

[Galadas]

Reemus waited patiently while Sador was taking a leak, the children had been secured in the wagon, their guardian lay in a ditch somewhere, off the road they had taken. They hadn’t been quiet happy with a proposal to take the old man along, especially the scouts repeated that his little bitch had cut their General bloody. Though he cared not for their words, and rather made use of his shiny sword. Where he had been given a small cut, the man lost his head, the screams weren’t enough to keep him from doing it. A Marshall had to be ruthless, cunning, and most of all; able to satisfy the needs of his followers. Soldiers cried for blood, he wouldn’t mind spilling it.
‘That previous city is somewhere around here, I say we take a stop, and either sell or kill these little bastards. Two girls will surely sound good to the Siths,’ Sador said, whilst he laced his belt back. ‘A little rape is out of the question, right?’
Reemus nodded, he went back on his horse, and waited for the scouts to do the same.
‘Not even the little bitch that cut you?’
‘Not even her,’ the General answered. He had left one man to tend to the wagon, one other to keep an eye on the kids, he wouldn’t underestimate them again.
Sador didn’t say another word, instead he laughed and patted Basht on the shoulder.
Animals, Reemus thought. They were an hour away from the city that had been under Reemus’ control before they took Ormwell, he had left a few men to hold the city, they would surely give some shelter to their General and his scouts. The scouts complained about having the ride so many more miles to get to Marshall Tora, they wanted a nice warm meal and a bed, as if it had been days since they had one last.

Ademai was surprised by the smile, but she liked it. She turned her back to Marshall Coladar, touched her agile with the base of her thumb, and did as she was bid. To kill a man and bring him back, a weak soul was easy to break, someone who thought there was no end to pain would soon give up. She tortured him only with the agile, telling him about how he would die, where he was weakest. She prepared him for the pain to come, but delayed his dead by the second.
And when she finally gave him the final blow, she brought him back with the kiss of life, weaker and in more pain than he had been before. Killing the soul and breaking a man was an art, art was made with time and care. She tore away the flesh from his muscles, drained the blood from his arms and legs, and gave him but minutes to regain from the pain, only to settle him for something far more painful. She knew not if Luchin was still behind her, he had more important things to do, and the breaking would take more than a day, a soul was strong, but a soul would die.

Joan knew not what to say, he kept his words and gazed down at the ground. Daharian lands were nothing like his own, the ground was dark, the grass was old. He felt as though his life was heading towards its end, only dread would follow. This was a land of fear, of pain and of murder. He didn’t belong here, but he was.
‘Elize…’
He cleared his throat, whilst his eyes tried to find hers. She was a Mord Sith, something cruel and vile, but she was a mother as well, she said so, and she appeared to feel so, or else he was the worst at guessing emotions.
‘I want to ask you for a favor, just a small one that is, just… if… if Lord Rahl decides to kill me after all… you promised to bring me there alive… that’s all I want, just to live.’ He tried not to show any form of emotion, just the simplest form of sadness, of innocence. But he wondered whether he was still the boy that had left from home, and fell into a world of anger, pain and destruction.

The city gave a far different sight than Reemus had left it in, it was not the small garrison that held the gates, that held the walls, it was a camp that stretched further than the eye could see. A pair of horsemen came to greet them, but there was no need for them to explain the situation to Daharan soldiers from the other host, the General knew all too well.
‘Has Marshall Coladar send scouts?’ one horseman asked.
‘No, General Shorshall has, and he requests audience with Marshall Tora,’ Reemus called.
No more was needed, the horsemen had one look at the scar that was showed them, and showed the scouts the way. He left the scouts at the castle doors, telling the horsemen to feed them and give them room for the night, at least the night. He wasn’t planning on returning to Ormwell so soon, there was much to uncover. From what he heard last Marshall Tora was on his way to come to their aid, yet the army seemed to have camped at the site for almost a fortnight. He wasn’t briefed about any of that, and he could imagine Luchin wasn’t either.
He found the meeting room on his own, and the sound said as much as that Mikial had all his Generals gathered there. Reemus knew he had over twenty, his army was divided into divisions, just as that of Reemus was, yet some of the divisions were leaded by Lieutenant Generals. As he stepped in the room, it went silent, and he noticed how Tora’s second in commands were made up of old men and women. His rival rather had fresh young meat, he wondered about what Luchin would choose for his Generals, the host was in desperate need of them, now they only had Reemus and General Ky’ur.
‘Marshall Tora,’ Reemus said.
The old man rose and nodded at his company, the Generals left the room, some shook his hand on the way out, congratulating him with the victory at Ormwell and condoling him with the loss of his title. Some were more generous than others, it seemed that a great part held the rivalry that existed between Reemus and Mikial.
‘General Shorshall,’ Mikial said as he took two glasses and a bottle of wine that had no label. ‘Reemus.’
The General seated himself, he said not a word. Questions would be answered without even asking, he knew Mikial loved his schemes, and he loved admitting to them.
‘Lord Rahl planned on replacing you, Reemus. It was not thanks to me, though,’ Marshall Tora begun, as he gave Reemus a filled glass. ‘He believes we need one fighter and one strategist, not two of the same. I cannot agree with him, we might quarrel some, but we both know that what the host needs is someone who can lead, not someone who can fight. He also had me travel to this place as soon as you moved out, in case anything would happen before hand. Not my plan either.’
Reemus nodded. ‘Still, what is your plan than, Mikial. Let’s face it, you always have one or two schemes that need working.’
The Marshall laughed, taking a sip from his wine. ‘I do, finest ever. You’re a General now, there is hardly any way in which Lord Rahl will put you back in your place, ever. He had lost trust in you, a foul move. I had planned on a marriage arrangement between you and Evana.’
The notion didn’t take Reemus aback. The man wasn’t selfish, he was a father and he would do anything to ensure a good future for his kids and grandchildren.
‘Would the two of you marry, Evana would inherit my host, and the two of you would control the complete army. Your sons and daughters after you, my perfect plan for the future. Now there is nothing left from me but to arrange that marriage between Luchin and Evana.’
Reemus nodded. ‘Might be better to start thinking about those things after we’ve taken the city, isn’t it, Mikial.’
The man laughed again, his voice was hoarse from the wine, it was strong, Reemus tasted as much. ‘And arrange it before, in case I die. We leave for Ormwell on the morrow, I expect you will join me, Reemus.’


Evana moved between the houses, she had athorized the biggest part of the camp that had been constructed outside the previous city gates. New walls had been made to fit the camp in, but they had been made of wood, and protected on the front side by sharpened stones and wooden stakes. She didn’t know if the new wall would hold sufficiently if any attack might hit them, yet she felt they had been strengthened enough to last a year on their own, and the soldiers felt a great deal safer behind wooden walls than they would sleeping in open air.
The camp was done, the fields were harvested, supplies were stocked, and she had sent scouts out to root the area and to create a watch post a few miles out from Aydindril. If anything were to change within the city, those scouts would send a bird to warn the host at Ormwell. Her father was a few days out, but he would ride at fastest in order to claim to their protection in time. She never doubted his devotion to making up for other people’s mistakes. Reemus had been his most endearing student, and a well enough friend, Luchin still needed to prove he was shaped enough to take on the job.
Reemus had been the youngest Marshall ever to hold office at age five and twenty, Luchin now ranked at that same spot at the same age. There were too many differences, though, for Evana to properly judge the new Marshall. He had incredible skills with a sword, or any weapon he touched, so she had heard, but he had never received strategic military training.
Evana made way to the hall, she had asked a few servants about the whereabouts of their Marshall, and found him to have moved back to the place where Reemus once spoke of their plans. She gazed inside and found their new Marshall having chosen for the seat at the left side of the head of the table. He was probably just getting used to his new office.
‘Marshall, we have some important matters to discuss,’ she said, walking in with her back as straight as it could get. No one ever put her in charge of the wall-building, and neither of the scouting, but she was so used to her father relying on her to make those choices herself, that she hadn’t even thought of the bluntness before she made the plans. ‘But first I would like to congratulate you, on your rise in ranks, I feel this is a far proper time to do so.’
Luchin replied with an off-smile, and seemed only to be waiting on her notions, not to thank her. She wondered what he had found in the dungeons, it must be something important, for him to frown upon all else.
‘The walls have been constructed, the new camp is ready, I’ve sent scouts out to patrol the area, and I’ve received word from my father that he is but a day, maybe two, away. He says to come upon us the day beyond next,’ she paused, seating herself opposite of Luchin. ‘We have matters, though. I had expected Reemus to take the time to appoint new Generals a while ago, but he seemed to have forgotten. Last battle went completely wrong, our divisions have no leaders but the lieutenant Generals that try hard to keep them together.’
The matter of new Generals did seem to interest the young Marshall, his head rose and his eyes met hers. ‘We before had fifteen divisions, but I assume we have had losses that will cut deep into some divisions of Infantry as well as Calvary.’
Evana nodded. ‘I’ve rearranged some divisions, we now have fourteen left. Two smaller divisions of infantry that are responsible for the siege constructions, five divisions of infantry with bowmen, and seven Calvary. Reemus used to lead most of the Calvary, but he had seven Generals to help him there. We lost General Lyra – she felt a tear escape her eye, the girl who was her friend – and what’s left is General Shorshall and General Ky’ur, both Calvary. We need more Generals if we want to assure a good organization in the army.’ She paused not a moment, there was so much to be said. She had heard that in comparison to Reemus, Luchin did know many of the soldiers individually, which was a plus. ‘I have a list of a few officers I would ask you to consider, they’ve fought well during the last battle, and they have been considered by Reemus as well.’ She concluded her speech by giving him the piece of paper. It was his choice beyond here, but she was glad at least if it would seem she helped him well.

[Cara]

Aslen knew before she saw, that everything was set. She could feel the electricty in the air. The tension was vibrating through the air, making her hair stand on edge. She felt Andrioth's grip tighten on her hand.
When she entered the chamber, she saw the curling designs of black and white wizard's sand across the floor. The symbols written were old, predating the Confessors by over a thousand years. These were marks from the First Wizards of old. That was how old the Reckoning Spell was.
Andrioth release her hand and stepped around her. He closed his eyes and raised his hands, as if feeling the power that was being generated here. The others were already there. The four most powerful wizards in the Keep. They stood, solemn, hands folded, watching and waiting. Andrioth stepped back, releasing his breath.
Aslen's heart was beating fast. The air pulsed around her. As she moved farther in, closer to the circle, she could feel this invisible pressure all around her and her hair lifted off her back, but she kept walking. The four wizards bowed low as she entered the circle. As soon as her foot crossed the line of sand, the pressure on her disappeared. She took a deep breath.
She couldn't let her nerves show. This spell should save Aydindril. It was a last desperate attempt to save her city. The scouts said that they had spotted Marshall Tora's army only a few day's ride from the city walls. And it was immense. She could not wait for them to get any closer.
This spell was one of the oldest, created in one of the first of the Great Wizard Wars. The first wizards were powerful and smart, and their curses and spells let lose a world of pain and misery on both sides. The world was almost destroyed. This spell, if preformed correctly, could put and end to the war for good. The problem was that it was created by people much more powerful than even Andrioth, the First Wizard and many of the records were destroyed or cannot be restored fully. This was truly a desperate and dangerous act. If the spell went awry, then everyone could die. Yet, if she didn't try this, then they could die anyway. She had to act before it was too late.

Elize chanced a glance back at Joan. "Everyone wants to live... And wouldn't you want to say that you have lived?" she asked, her face unmoving.
"That isn't what I mean..." Joan said, watching her. She didn't turn to look at him.
"No, what you seek is to survive." she said, not slowing. "Besides Lord Rahl won't kill you. Not any time in the near future, anyway. You are too valuable. If he wanted you dead, then I would have killed you the moment I first saw you, and then everything would have been much simpler."

Aslen looked around at her friend's faced. The two older ones were almost unreadable, but Aslen was a Confessor. She could see truth. And they were terrified. The other two were too young to be truly terrified, but they knew the risks and their faces were showed that they had were worried. This was the right thing to do, yes? She pushed that thought to the back of her mind. It was too much to have doubts now.
The Recocking Spell would bring the wrath and fury of one's enemies upon him, it could make fears realized and there would be no stopping. And the longer it worked, the worse its effects became.

[Cara]

Luchin nodded his thanks, taking the paper from her. He watched her leave. She was very proud and quite competent.
He had been thinking about what Lord Rahl had told him. That he was the key to the Confessor's magic, but he still was missing the other piece. What was Lord Rahl planning? He stared down at the palm of his hand, where there was a strange black symbol. It was where Lord Rahl had shook his hand. It ensured that Luchin could not speak of these plans, as well as other things, Luchin couldn't think of it. He itched at it, scratching, but it was deep in his skin.
Luchin had been careful to take the paper with his left hand, leaving his right hand by his side, when Evana stepped in. He would have to be careful if he didn't want people asking questions. He pulled a smooth leather glove over his hand, the weird symbol tattoo imprinted on his vision for a few seconds after.
He knew who would be great to be the replacements for the Generals who had died. He had some close friends as well that would be very fitting. Luchin knew that he needed some advisers that could be trusted and had more loyal to him, not that it was particularly hard to find men loyal to him. Unlike Reemus, Luchin was closer to the men he commanded. They respected him for who he was, and not just out of fear.
Sen was a very great swordsman, whom Luchin had met a long time ago. Only once had he beaten Luchin though in hand to hand combat. Luchin had seen to it. Sen was strong, determined, and had a great way of rallying his men. Renald was also another person Luchin knew would be great for the job. He was a lifelong friend that would also be loyal to Luchin. He was inventive. Some people though he was slightly crazy, but his methods always worked, and he knew a battle field better than the back of his hand... Luchin smiled. This was something that could help distract him for a while from his other troubles. It would also show the leadership that many people had been expecting from him.

Aslen looked around the room. These were the only people who knew about this spell. No on else knew what was going on and what was going to happen. Only the leader of the Home Guard was aware, but even remotely. The other wizards were just responsible to make sure that the magical barriers of Aydindril remained intact. For the moment everyone else thought that they were just waiting.

Luchin tucked the list away. Yes, he knew who he was going to promote. They would be a full army again in just over two days time, yet not before he had appointed his chosen generals.
He made his way, slowly, back to Ademai. He wasn't eager to see what bloodily thing Ademai had done to the man, but it was necessary. He walked in without caring to knock. He was Marshal now. He stared at the man hanging from the rafters. He looked dead, but then Luchin saw the slow rise of his bare chest. Just a small, weak movement.
"Ademai," he said, not turning to look at the mord-sith. "What does our friend have to say?"

[Galadas]

Reemus found that now he was no longer a Marshall, his old rival Mikial threated him very differently, as if he was his student again; young, dutiful and ambitious. But his dreams had fallen, he would never rise up again, his seat was taken, and Lord Rahl wouldn’t put him back in that station. Marshall Tora knew the same, and it was that which brought them back together. Student and Teacher. He was surprised to know that his laugh came far easier than he had expected, he had been on the wrong foot with his teacher for the past ten years, ever since their armies split up, and Reemus decided to follow lead under Marshall Kato, instead of Marshall Tora’s host.
‘You know I would do anything to protect my family, right Reemus?’ The Marshall asked, his forehead was sweaty, and the second bottle stood empty on the table. Reemus had had enough, more would certainly mean to upset his brain, he was known to keep to the limit when it came to alcohol. His station meant he was wary, one never knew when things got out of hand.
‘I am aware of that,’ Reemus answered, his voice calm. The drink still burned in his throat, but that was all.
A dark sigh slipped Mikial’s lips. ‘Rahl has given me a guest to keep in my camp, I was generally surprised to hear who it was.’
The General’s eyes grew suspicious. ‘Who?’
‘Your brother, Tom…’
‘Leverage, I had given it a thought,’ Reemus answered quickly. He felt scared for his brother, a boy of six and twenty, who had been disabled since birth, but he also wanted to see him so badly. ‘Lord Rahl has his ways, I suspect sending Evana to me was his plan as well. He keeps a tight lease on all of us, I wonder how he keeps Luchin to dance at his pipes.’
Mikial nodded. ‘He is afraid we will rise up against him, we have all his strength, two armies more than two thousand men strong. Cities that follow the Marshalls that have conquered them instead of the Lord that rules them, it’s no wonder he does. I’m years his senior, you’re a strong willing soul that holds a good head up to his soldiers, and I’ve heard Luchin is every men’s best friend. He tries his best to keep it covered, but I fear we might someday become unnecessary.’
Reemus knew not what to say more, Lords that feared their officers were afraid of more than just that. ‘And Tom is…’
‘Protected. I keep him deep into the camp, only few know that he’s your little brother. Most think he’s the brother or son of one of the Generals that lead them. Evana is my daughter, Tom is your brother, I understand how deep family runs, so don’t worry about his safety. Lord Rahl may think we share a deep carved rivalry, yet he doesn’t understand why this is.’
You could try and explain it to me, Reemus thought, but he nodded instead. He liked the way Mikial was threating him. ‘Where can I find him?’


Ademai turned when Luchin entered, she felt her arms going stiff. She had been tearing a flesh and her head was heavy with the stench of blood. Her prey was weak, and he had been killed and brought back again so many times that she thought he would soon break, but he wouldn’t. She hadn’t had a wizard before, it was no surprise that killing the soul and taking the mind would be much harder. Yet she had still underestimated him. ‘Not much, or not at the moment,’ she replied.
‘He spoke some riddles, some spells, but most were curses, I think.’
Ademai walked to the door, where she found a cask of water, which she drank from eagerly. The new Marshall said no word, probably deep in thought.
‘Try him if you must, he is weak and fragile, your sweet words might persuade him.’


Joan knew Elize was right. His life meant more than nothing if this Lord Rahl wanted him leaded safe to his castle, home or whatever it was. Still he felt scared, deeply frightened. His bones shook belong his skin, and he heart was heavy with thoughts. Memories seemed to have faded, and his belly ached, as if to say it would swallow him whole.
It was no more than a half an hour later when black towers arose across the horizon, and Joan grew cold, his whole body started shaking. He couldn’t remember what he was more afraid of, entering a world in which he was to be left to darkness, led by Lord Rahl, or try and escape and hope he would find death before anything else in the world. Elize would knock him down and drag him back to his horse, would he ever try. But he gambled that he wouldn’t even make it off his horse with her eyes flying about as a hawk.
The towers came closer, and finally dark slipped about him, he closed his eyes, praying never to open them again.


Reemus walked calmly between the tents, only a minute had passed since Mikial sent him out with one of his Generals, and the sky above grew darker. It couldn’t be any later than three in the afternoon, and he wasn’t the only one worrying about it.
‘I should warn Mikial about this,’ General Tosha called, pointing Reemus to the tent. ‘Things like this mean Magic.’
The now General had to agree, Magic or a storm, either way they meant trouble for such a large host. He continued his path, finding the campfires and the resting soldiers the most calming things he had seen since they had taken this town themselves. He had been far too wary ever since he was attacked by his own Generals.
‘Reemus!’ it was a voice that boomed through the tents, and it wasn’t that of his younger brother.
A hand grabbed his shoulder, and then the other.
The General shrieked when he was pushed to the ground, he leaned backwards, and grabbed the arms with his own hands, turning round in a swift movement. Facing the attacker he laughed a childish laugh.
The attacker made two more attempts to attack, which landed on Reemus’ strong forearms, before the General got the offensive. They rolled around in the dirt, eventually though it was the attacker who stood victorious.
‘Beamf the Black, long time no see,’ Reemus made the remark, rubbing his shoulder. The wounds that had cut there still pained him, and they would for a long time after.
‘I had expected a warmer welcome,’ Beamf, who was known better as Ream, said, lifting Reemus from the ground. ‘I see you took a hit, better have some healer look at that.’
Blood has soaked through the layers of clothing, and created a dirty red spot at his waist. ‘Had three hits on my shoulder, but I’m sure to survive,’ he answered. It felt good to see people he knew. Ream, or Beamf the Black, was a childhood friend, and had promised their father to protect Tom from any harm. He was dark skinned and broad around the shoulders, his hair was black and tight neatly into a tail that reached the base of his spine. ‘I want to see Tom first.’
‘I had expected so.’ Ream suddenly sounded concerned. ‘We’re careful with whom we tell, but I fear he would not be only Rahl’s leverage if anyone outside our camps ever find out. I would sooner arrange our staying here. Dark tidings are coming, just look at the sky, and they come soon.’

[Cara]

Luchin nodded, watching the man hanging from the ceiling. He could not imagine how the man could endure so much torture. This was the work of a Mord-Sith, and one of the best. No human could bare to do such damage, no? Not for pleasure at least. Mord-Sith were sadistic, inhuman women. He internally cringed. Lord Rahl had promised that would he fail, they would take his little sister and turn her to the Mord-Sith. She would become...a monster.
"Wash him," he commanded Ademai. Ademai took a bucket of ice water off the shelf and threw it on the man's naked body. He shuddered and slowly opened his left eye. The other was swollen shut.
"Marshall...." the wizard whispered hoarsely. "Come....back...to question...me?" he said, managing to get a smirk on his face. Luchin did not respond, but just looked the man over for a moment.
"I can make the pain stop," he said.
The wizard made a noise that sounded more like choking. It took a second for Luchin to realize the man was laughing. Laughing! Ademai stepped up and slammed her agile into the man's stomach, but the man kept laughing. She gave a twist, until the man finally gasped and started coughing blood. "Don't you dare laugh at the Marshal..." she snarled.
"Enough," Luchin said. He stepped closer to the wizard. "Ademai over here," he said, stepping into the hall. She followed, her fury on her face. "Why isn't that man broken already?" he demanded, his voice low.
Ademai looked away for a moment. "Well he is a wizard..."
"So?" The mord-sith have broken and trained plenty of wizards before!" he whispered harshly.
"Yes, sir, but this is a very high ranking wizard. And I did not accomplish on taking his magic. Although it is bound, that is the ultimate ability of a Mord-Sith. If a person of magic attacks us, we can bind their magic to us and use it as the ultimate weapon against the wizard. Obviously this man knew this, because he did not attack me, even after I provoked him."
Luchin gave a frustrated sigh. He didn't know what he would do if this didn't work out. "Is there anything else?"
Ademai hesitated. She hated admitting her mistakes. Mord-Sith were hardly known for failure. "I believe he has partitioned his mind."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Luchin growled.
"He has for the most part separated his body from his mind, so his mind remained unaffected by the torture. When I pry at him, I get glimpses of only happier memories... Very strong wizards can do this when they are tortured too far. It is a very rare ability..." she said, her voice fading. "Though once it is done, the person will likely go insane. The mind cannot tolerate such a severed state for too long."
"Then nothing I do or say will change this..." Luchin pushed Ademai aside and stepped into the room again. "Then he is worth nothing to us..." Luchin snarled, pulling his sword from his scabbard. The sound rung in the air. The wizard lifted his head, staring Luchin right in the eyes.
"Come to kill me, Marshal?"
Luchin did not say anything, just stepped closer. "Luchin... don't. If he is dead dead, then we will have nothing," Ademai cautioned. She had never seen Luchin this irate.
"He is nothing already."
"Ah...Luchin. Such a...strong name," the wizard remarked, as if he were not in danger. "Too bad...it...or anything else....will not...save you..."
Luchin narrowed his eyes. The wizard gave his choking laugh again. "The Mother Confessor will have her blood, and nothing you can do will stop it," he whispered clearly, a smile on his face, staring directly at Luchin. Luchin felt his palm tingle, and stopped his urge to scratch at it.
He stepped forward and took his sword and with one quick stroke decapitated the wizard. Even the breath of life would not repair this.

Elize watched the familiar towers of the People's Palace rise in the distance. The whole city was huge. The largest in Dahara. It was known in Daharan originally as the "Black City" because the exterior of the actual castle walls were made of black stone. It was the opposite of Aydindril, which when the Wisards first built it, was called the "White City". Not many knew this, but the white and black stone had magic properties. Making a castle out of the stone, made it very very valuable for anyone of magic.
The People's Palace was beautiful. It was her home.
Elize could not wait to get back to the Keep, which was deep within the palace walls, and see her sisters again. She hadn't seen anyone for so long. She had been on a search for Joan. What would really happen to the boy anyway? Well it did not concern her. Once she handed him off, she would never have to see or think about Joan again.