“So we came across the lad and his company, horseless, and on their final legs. In fact,” the spark-bearded dwarf captain reported, “It looked as though the lad was about to be liquefied by a scorpion witch queen.”

  Elstariath was in the war room of Fort Lyric’s high command. He stood near the door of the assembly, due to his lowly rank of captain. At the opposite side of the room, behind a roughly drawn map of Fort Lyric, stood Imperator Sololyn. Around the sides of the table were three other high commanders of the fort, each representing a different region of Amor within the legion.

  Elstariath paid them no mind though as he listened to the dwarf report the end of the battle to the Imperator. His fists were clenched in shame and anger as the dwarf’s, mostly accurate, tale came to its conclusion.

  “So, Imperator, we bloodied the nose of those bastard insects with our explosive lobbers. Pissed the witch off something fierce though, so she sent in more of her forces. The insectoids that were present were mainly fast and had been hoping for more of ambush fight. They were child's play for us, as they've clearly never fought something as sturdy as a dwarf.”

  The dwarf captain accentuated his point by pounding his extremely broad chest with his gauntleted fist. “We smacked them around a bit while waiting for the lads to recover. A good fight and it helped steel up the recruits of our manipuls a more. Afterwards, once the cavalry riders were rested up, we used our lobbers once more to create an opening and started our march back to the gates. The queen must not have felt as keen on pursuing us after she had lost so many to our skirmishers. They didn’t pursue us back through the dirt walls we had blown through so we made good time back to the fort.”

  Elstariath recalled the feeling of safety that he had felt as they had been ushered into the middle of the two dwarven manipuls. The fighting had been fierce at the front. The dwarves may be braggarts, but they had certainly held their ground and fought the insectoids ferociously and effectively. Scores of dead insectoids had mounded up in front of the dwarves.

  His count of the dead weighed upon his soul. Elstariath had reported sixty-eight of his one-hundred knights as casualties. The two dwarf manipuls had only eight casualties in total between them. They hadn’t been ambushed either but something told Elstariath that they would have fared better than they had if the roles were reversed.

  “Thank you captain.” the Imperator acknowledged with a slight bow of gratitude. “May we always have the dependable dwarven wall in our times of need.”

  The dwarf nodded and retreated to the back of the room by Elstariath. High Lord Sololyn looked to be deep in thought as he gazed upon the map side where the attack had occurred but an hour ago. Elstariath has seen secondary pieces of paper the Imperator had been writing on, as he had given his recounting of the events. They were laid out near the area where the battle had taken place. He wondered what secrets the High Lord was attempting to uncover.

  Sololyn abruptly came out of his musings and addressed the gathered group of high commanders and two captains. His tone was stern as he stated, “That will be all for tonight. Double the guard and, for Karma’s sake, make sure they are both paying attention and near their warning stations. Tonight was a disgrace to Amor’s Legions and to the Aristocracy in general for such a poor response to a night raid. It cost us lives and good people that will never make it home now. Everyone but Captain Elstariath is dismissed.”

  Elstariath’s stomach dropped. He didn’t expect to have escaped a reprimanding but had been hoping to receive it in the morning. He felt as if he was hardly able to stand. His entire body ached from having been run ragged and pushed to the precipice of death a mere hour ago. He wondered if it was excusable to collapse in front of Sololyn while the man berated his leadership skills.

  The dwarven captain gave him a sympathetic slap on the arm as he filed past. Elstariath stepped to the side of the doorway and stared hard at the ground in shame as the others walked out of the command hall.

  Then he was alone with the Imperator. Elstariath held his winged helm in his hand even though he wished he could be hiding beneath it. He almost wished he were back on that dreadful battlefield. Nothing but him and the enemy in a deadly dance of survival of the fittest.

  Almost.

  “Captain Elstariath, please approach the war table,” Sololyn ordered politely.

  Elstariath walked across the room as if the gallows awaited him at the end. He had done everything he had thought he could in the moment. He knew he could have done better. What if he had figured out how to get to them faster? What if there had been a sign that would have clued him in to the ambush?

  “Elstariath, look at me.” Lord Sololyn commanded. Elstariath looked up and saw the impassive, hardened face of the elven commander.

  Many years his senior, Imperator Sololyn stood roughly 9 feet tall and was broader than the average elf. He still wore his chest armor but otherwise he remained in simple clothes.

  “My Lord?” Elstariath asked, able to keep the tremble from his voice.

  The Imperator sighed as he looked down upon him, “You were not the right tool for the job, cousin. You erred several times in the battle. The first was in not asking why they had stopped when they should have been running. The other was when you chose to engage the enemy as they marched to you, even though they were leaving a better vantage point upon the hill.”

  Elstariath took his words while looking him in the eyes. Each sentence, a separate lashing to his pride as a captain.

  “All of this is to be expected of a young untested leaderr. Would I rather you not have made these mistakes? Absolutely, but you were able to salvage more than I would have expected you to. For that reason, I do commend you. As we now have thirty more elvish soldiers than I would have believed us to.”

  Elstariath was confused as to whether he should thank the commander for his compliment or apologize for his blunders. He settled for a crisp nod and replied, “Sir” impassively.

  Sololyn seemed to relax a bit of his impassiveness and looked at him more as a teacher than commander. “Elstariath, I do not want you to forget this. I want you to remember this forever in fact. But I do not wish for it to undermine a commander that has proven his willingness to fight and lead his soldiers from death regardless of how bleak the situation is.”

  Sololyn put his hands upon the war map and leaned towards him. “Yours is not the only fault today either. I will be addressing the dwarves' tardiness at coming to your aid. They should have arrived much faster than they did. Yet they spent time blowing through each and every one of those cursed walls before coming to your aid.”

  Elstariath had thought it strange but ultimately chalked it up to the fact that they couldn’t move as fast on the ground as he could on horse. They also were probably able to cross the dirt mounds easier as well.

  Sololyn continued to speak, “I know it may not have looked like too much of a noticeable delay to you, or anyone else that is new to command. But that captain is no green recruit like you are. He has been through several engagements and is quite talented at his job as well as with his creativity. I’m sure you saw his lobbers as he likes to call them.”

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  Elstariath nodded, feeling confused as to why they would possibly attempt to delay their arrival.

  “You may speak Elstariath, this is much more informal now that I have addressed the majority of this with you.” Sololyn granted, nodding his head to the young noble.

  “Sir, why would anyone in the 14th be attempting to harm or hinder us in our service to the Aristocracy.” It just didn't make sense to Elstariath. Unity and order was how Eusa had always prevailed after all.

  “Why else? Politics and greed. Which eventually leads to that which we all look to obtain, my young cousin, power.” The Imperator said this in an almost tired fashion. A couple of elven aides brought up a seat for each of them.

  Both of them sat as the Imperator continued, “You are blessed by Karma to have a heart of unification. But we are all Elder races here. The grievances of the past are not so easily forgotten by those of us with such long lives. As many remember the times of the past as clearly as you will remember tonight. We all have our scars and grudges,” Sololyn finished with a sad smile.

  Elstariath felt his body start to become extremely tired as he sat. His mind was at a loss to all of these accusations and revelations due to the tiredness that clouded his mind. He somewhat wished he could just go to his bunk and sleep.

  “Don’t we all wish to claim Naidenal before the Frimans though? How does working separately at this achieve our goal of a unified front against them?” Elstariath questioned.

  “Many of these captains come from noble houses just as you and I do,” Sololyn answered, holding his hands out in a show of helplessness. “They have their house’s agendas and well being to forward. It will help them when they return home from these frontlines. Our house may sit in the highest chair of the Amor order, but this doesn’t mean we will sit there forever. We will have to constantly defend this seat from those that wish to usurp us. Whether they be our current allies or enemies.”

  “Why not earn honor and glory through great deeds of valor or prowess upon the battlefield then? Why sacrifice our own people’s lives for these plays at power?” Elstariath couldn’t believe that all of these people here would leave him to die for some minor pieces of power back in Eusa. They could be benefiting as one nation if they just worked together.

  “Honor and glory are often defaulted to the Imperator of the Legion. The head of a victorious army almost always carries more honor and glory than a high commander or others under him. If they can find a way to depose me as leader, then they can both disgrace our house while also elevating their own.” Sololyn stated, as if this were common practice.

  Elstariath knew that there were many ways for a house to gain status back home. His own house had an extremely decorated military history. They had cultivated grand generals for ages. Many were trained from the time they could walk to wield a blade or begin to learn war games. The fact that other houses would stoop to such dishonorable means felt distasteful in his mouth.

  The High Lord looked at him with pity. “Be thankful you were so sheltered from the true workings of this world Elstariath. It often weighs heavily upon the mind of those who know its truths. The constant battle of, ‘Is this all really worth the price?’ makes many buckle and lose the courage to keep fighting.”

  Sololyn straightened himself and looked more focused as he stared into Elstariath’s eyes. “Your manipul has been sundered, a mere thirty warriors left in it. All of them are battle hardened and have earned their place in the 14th. For this, I am going to reassign you and your men to be my personal unit or guards.”

  Elstariath began to protest before Sololyn held up his hand to quiet him before continuing. “This will initially look as if you are being punished. This is what I want. Many will think I am losing face but in all reality it is our house consolidating its power into a trusted and sturdy shield against the daggers of all of our enemies.”

  Sololyn fiwished and sat back to await his reply.

  Elstariath wasn’t happy about this unexpected turn. Mere hours ago he had led an unsuccessful charge into an enemy ambush and barely escaped with his life. Now it looked as though he were to be demoted and lose honor for his blunders, or at least that would be how it looked.

  But did that matter? As long as they won this war and returned honorably back to Drina, he would have accomplished enough. If protecting Lord Sololyn was the best use of his talents, who was he to argue?

  “May I request two things my lord?” Elstariath asked him, steeling himself and dredging up hia courage.

  “You may,” Lord Sololyn responded with a small smile.

  “I wish for our unit to not be spared from the action. Many of us have joined for the honor of our houses. It could shame our families if it was found out they were “demoted” to guard duty. I could not bear to bring that shame to my fellow knights.”

  Sololyn smiled as he rested back into his chair, fingers folded over his breastplate. “I have a feeling that that will not be a problem. What is your second request then?”

  Elstariath boldly looked into Sololyn's eyes, a flame of desire ignited in his heart. “Win this war.”

  Sololyn’s smile turned into that of a cunning cat as he heard the final request. It seemed so strange upon the body of a 9 foot tall elf, and caused Elstariath to wonder if he had misjudged the man. A fire of desire seemed to burn from within him as well.

  Sololyn straightened and stood up, towering over the battle map as if he were a giant about to destroy a city. As he gazed down at it intently he said, “Oh I plan to.”

  ………………………………………

  The moon shone brightly upon the litter of corpses that laid merely two hills away from Fort Lyric. Mangled bodies had been left by both sides for the night. The Frimans of the Hive had left their dead to rot entirely, as death was simply a culling of the weak to them. The Taaru warriors had gathered their few dead and had immediately left to speed back to their nearest outposts.

  A few insectoid scavengers wearing hooded cloaks had reopened a tunnel and were busy looting the corpses of the elves. They clicked and clacked to one another nervously while constantly looking around for signs of danger.

  Two stood at the entrance to the tunnel, ready to collapse it at a moment's notice. The other four were quickly grabbing things and shoving anything that looked to be of value into runic pouches.

  The scavengers stopped as one of them chittered in alarm. It pointed towards the hill that led further into the desert with its spindly arm. The others gazed upon it and saw a small girl standing at the top and beginning to walk down.

  The girl appeared human and was only a few feet in height. She wore a simple blue dress on and had frazzled looking blonde hair. She began to whistle a slow, haunting melody as she stepped daintily down the hillside. Within her hands, seated regally as if they were sitting in a chair, was a cat.

  Green eyes looked out from under two horns and across the battlefield. They fell upon the hive rogues. The demonic looking cat’s raggedly robed and black furred body shuddered in a way that did not indicate cold. It was pleasure.

  “Ahhhh,” a feminine voice came from its too wide mouth, “the scent is still fresh. Oh I do love a good night raid. So many things can go wrong and bring a soul into dearest Death’s embrace. What a treasure trove we have in front of us tonight.”

  The insectoids began to slink back and towards the entrance to the tunnel, as if backing away from a dangerous predator. They knew they needed to get away from whatever this was. Magical power radiated from this being on a scale that felt alien and unknown to them. It wasn't like the king and queens. This one carried a finality to it, as if there was nothing but a sudden stoppage.

  As the little blonde girl approached, the cat began to speak in a much more sinister tone. It stretched its palms to the corpses of the battlefield, “I am She Who Finds Death's Final Use. I do not fear Death, but welcome him as if he were a close friend. Unfeeling, Driven, and Brutal am I. Evil, Callous, and Sacrilegious they call me. Death cares not for what the sheep think, and so neither do I, for all must meet its embrace. I follow the path of the first Walker. Death is around me and within me.”

  The mantra of words came out in a feverish chant from the cat’s wide toothy maw. Her paws lit up with cold blue flames and power washed over the battlefield. This caused the bodies to shudder from the wave of force.

  The rogue hive chittered frantically at each other and bolted towards the tunnel. Each of the scavengers screeched as it was grabbed by a leg. Blue flaming eyes burned from within the dead bodies as they began to drag the now screaming insectoids down to the dirt with them.

  Claws, hands, and even teeth were used to tear into the shells of the rogues. Their screeches became gurgles as each was torn apart and given to the dead warriors who had fallen that night. Fallen only to rise again after death.

  The two rogues at the door frantically collapsed the tunnel. The dirt and rock smashed down at their feet as they shook in horror from what they had witnessed. Bodies were supposed to stay dead. They were meant to be taken from, not to take from the living.

  A cold chuckle rang from behind them.

  “I don’t think you understand, my newest minions. There are to be no witnesses yet.” voiced a pair of floating green eyes and a sharp white smile.