The waking of storm and.., p.5
The Waking of Storm and Flame, page 5
Zahra hugged him tighter, allowing herself to be overwhelmed by emotion. Tears streamed down her face as she felt the weight of the moment. They weren’t just duke and commander, they were Cael and Zahra, the same two children who once ran through the castle’s passageways causing mischief. He was her protector and, yet beneath it all, a troubling thought lingered.
Why then, does this feel like goodbye?
Chapter III
All for Nothing
Rygar and Cael watched the last members of the council leave the sanctum. Each of them had an important part to play before the day was over and none was less crucial than the others.
“I’ve fought countless battles and each time the worry of a coming engagement weighs no less heavy on my mind.” Rygar picked his head up, “although, I must admit I’m envious. At least they have things to keep occupied.”
“We’ve rode into many battles old friend,” Cael said. “I share your angst, yet this one feels different. It’s not brigands from Radia or pirates under banners of the west.” Cael stared at the door out of the sanctum. “This feels more like the incursion of Drangvik which Alira often speaks of. The coming of a great terror.” Rygar watched the color leave Cael’s face. “Maybe this is our Lost Alliance.”
In the twenty years since the dreadful campaign, Rygar had managed to make his peace with what happened and with the loss of his friend. “And now, as it was then, you have your sisters with you, as I had your father.” Rygar put his hand to Cael’s face and looked at him eye to eye. “I owe everything I have, and everything I am to Trystan. His friendship is the reason I gave my life to Namelle and will continue to do so until the life is called from my lungs.” As Rygar walked down the steps the sound of his boots carried across a near empty hall. As he reached the bottom he stopped for a moment, “everything we do, Cael, honors the sacrifice he made. None more so than confronting the enemy that stole him from us.”
“But you’re not coming with us, are you?” Cael descended next to Rygar. “We could use you out there, General. Even if not to fight, your presence alone would inspire the soldiers. Has the fire in your heart not burned for one last chance to strike a decisive blow to the enemy?”
Rygar’s hand moved down to grab the hilt of his sword, Eclipse, to reassure himself that he could still fight even though remaining behind was best for Namelle. “My time is spent, Cael. Zahra is the leader of the Royal Army now. The way your soldiers speak of her only confirms that she is ready for it. Moreso than I was, more than your father and even you. You’ll see this through together, as we did.”
“You never told me what happened to my father, only that he made the most noble sacrifice you’ve ever seen.”
Cael stepped in front of Rygar, his determination clear. “You never told me what happened to my father, only that he made the most noble sacrifice you’ve ever witnessed. If I’m to face the same enemy, I need to know.”
The reluctance Rygar felt in his heart was worn on his face. Cael saw the emotion and a great, buried pain in his eyes. It was a road he had never hoped to wander again, but with Cael about to follow the same path then Rygar owed it to him. “You’re right, it’s time you knew what happened. Come on.”
Cael and Rygar walked through the castle together and said nothing. When they reached the General’s quarters, he pulled out a chair for Cael. “Here, sit. You’ll want to.” Cael passed orders to his guards to wait outside and then he locked and bolted the door behind them. Rygar poured two glasses of wine and offered one to Cael. “Where shall I begin?”
Cael took a deep breath. “From the beginning.”
* * *
Rygar had never seen the sky over Namelle as dark as it was on the morning the horns sounded and rallied all to the parade square. A thick blanket of grey cloud reached across the landscape, as far as the eye could see. Rain pounded the ground with incredible force. The raindrops were melodic as they struck the metal plating on the armor of those underneath the sky.
The magnitude of silence among the men was only broken by the crash of lightning in the sky and an accompanying heavy rumble of thunder. He heard the whispers of his soldiers behind him who said the storm was a divine omen from the Goddess. As foreboding as the day seemed these soldiers were the fabled Lions of Namelle, and none would place the divine above their sense of duty. They would fight to whichever end, so long as it meant their homes and loved ones were safe.
Among his ranks were new initiates who would get their first taste of combat, mentored, and led by those more seasoned. Veteran soldiers, who neared the end of their careers and had fought for Namelle since the Vocklan Breakout campaign decades before. Long forgotten were the great battles along the border and the final liberation of Leonkreuz. No songs were sung, nor tales told of the campaign where victories were vastly overshadowed by the loss of life.
As the rain eased, the ducal family arrived. The first to dismount was Trystan, followed by his beautiful wife, Kala, and their children Cael and Alira–with no sign of Zahra.
***
Trystan took his place on the wooden dais and looked out across the sea of silver, green and gold. “Sons and daughters of Namelle,” he began, his voice resonant with authority, “today we march to war—not in defense of our lands, but for our friends to the east. We honor our promise and stand against those who seek to harm them. The fallen kingdoms of the north have forced our hand. This conflict is not of our making, but we shall respond with the might of Aenne Aelle.”
He traced his hand over the leather grip of Vayal, the Sword of Namelle, gripping it tightly. “This is the last time we will all be together before great uncertainty lies ahead. I hoped this conflict would never touch our lives, but it is now our turn to stand, as countless warriors before us have.”
Trystan unsheathed Vayal and held it aloft. “In the name of the Goddess, Drea, for your families and homes, for your children and your future—let us fight together, from this day until our last!” The roar of applause from his soldiers and the crack of thunder overhead filled him with the inspiration he needed. He sheathed his sword and turned to his family for a final farewell.
“Your father would be proud Trystan, we all are.” Kala pulled her husband in and kissed him. He held tight onto his wife, for a time which wasn’t long enough.
He then turned his attention to Cael, his son of ten. He tried to keep a brave face for his father and hid away in the ruffles of his mother’s dress. Cael let go long enough to give a quick hug to his father and they exchanged no words, only a glance. If anything were to ever happen to Trystan, Cael would be the one to lead Namelle when he came of age. He ran his fingers through his son’s blonde hair and told him, “take care of your mother, Cael. Listen for the horns, for it is their sound that will carry me home.”
His heart ached as he turned to his five-year-old daughter, Alira. She stood in a diminutive set of armor, its gemstones catching the dim light, setting her apart. Trystan removed her helmet, revealing her blonde hair tied back. Her face was resolute, her gaze steady.
“Never forget how proud I am of you,” Trystan said, embracing her. She wrapped her small arms around his neck. “I will always be there for you, my little lioness, even if you can’t see me.” As he pulled back, he told her, “Someday, Alira, Idel may call upon you, whether you’re ready or not. If that day comes, don’t be afraid. The world will need Alira Verbrandt.”
Alira’s steadfastness gave way to tears and she hugged her father one last time. As slight teardrops ran down her face Alira told him, “you’ll always be my hero, like the stories in my books.” It took everything Trystan had to keep himself collected in front of his soldiers; even if, inside, he was broken.
* * *
“I remember that,” Cael interjected. “I count it among my life’s greatest regrets, not giving my father a proper farewell. I’m glad you were there with us, Rygar. It was an emotional day, and I don't recall much of it. I never could have realized I was saying a final goodbye to my father.”
“You were only ten, Cael. None would expect you to understand the significance of a moment like that.”
“I recall Father mounting his horse and riding out of the city gates. I remember the fanfare that erupted, the trumpets, the pipes, the bells, and the thunderous marching of the soldiers all in unison as you departed.” Cael reflected on the memory, “followed by the deafening silence once everyone was gone.”
“Well, let's pick up from there.”
* * *
A contingent of over three thousand marched for two days down the Kingsway. Every village along their path supplied soldiers for their ranks and each was outfitted with armor and weapons of the regulars. The provinces swelled their ranks by five hundred bodies in their march eastward.
The army made camp for the night on the plains near Pridden, a town at the crossroads where the paths of the north and south converged with that of Namelle from the west. Orders were given to make camp until they were joined the following morning by the army from Rihelle.
Once his men made camp, the watches were set to ensure security throughout the night. Trystan settled into his tent and invited his officers for libations and socialization before they turned in. At the end of the night, as it always seemed to be, only Trystan and Rygar remained. Even General Yorren, who often held his own against the bottle, had to turn in early.
“Did you see the look on the old man’s face!?” Rygar couldn’t contain his laughter and fell out of his chair
“Back he went! His arse kissed the floor!” Trystan managed to blurt his words out as he roared in laughter. “Something appears to be the matter.”
The pair couldn’t contain themselves but remembered they were within ear shot of the rest of the camp. “We best quiet down, Trys, else we’ll wake the sun far too early.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Trystan slumped over in his chair, taken by the effects of copious amounts of wine they consumed. The laughter, which kept things light, had vacated to a silence that hung over the room. Trystan broke it after only a few seconds. “What do you think of all this, Ry? Do you think we even have a chance of coming back?”
“Honest? I think if there was one song which ends our ballad, it might be this one. Part of me thinks that we’re not looking at the right thing. There must be something larger at work. I can’t imagine Illyria would descend from the north for the pure sport of attacking Reyvia and Shiun. Whatever way you put it, I believe our king’s ambition has us marching to our death.”
“I wish we could live out the rest of our days in peace, but we’re bound by the old alliance to defend them,” Trystan replied. “I imagine there may come a day when we will call on their aid as well, even if we can’t foresee it now.”
“It’s a difficult spot to be in, Trys. I understand, I really do. The old alliance has stood for centuries, and it has never been called upon. Yet not even the common folk understand why we still honor it.” Rygar showed mixed emotions, caught between duty and survival. He wasn’t sure if it was anger, despair or just worry. “Our king asks the impossible considering when we don’t even know what we’re up against.”
“That doesn’t mean we don’t go.” Trystan snapped back at him. “I have as much to lose as any man, yet here I am.” His voice grew stern. “You think I don’t fear losing them? I have been blessed to have the beautiful, loving family that I have, and I have a duty to protect them. I have that same duty to our king, that duty is loyalty.” Trystan turned so he didn’t have to face Rygar. “What exists without loyalty? Chaos?”
“Trys, I’m sorry.” It was only on occasion that Rygar saw his friend this impassioned. His call to duty was important in a way Rygar couldn’t understand.
“Sorry? I can’t do anything with sorry.” Trystan turned around and, as their eyes met, he paused. “I’m sorry Ry. I understand your concern, but your fear cannot be paramount, for it is duty and loyalty which must stand above all else.”
“It’s in that blind loyalty you fail to recognize my sense of it. I have no family Trystan, you’re the closest person to it. Excuse me if I fear losing you, and that is where my loyalty lies.” Rygar had the same fear as Trystan. The same felt amongst all who marched to an uncertain fate, that of loss. If his friend felt a duty to answer the summons of his king, to go to war and protect his family then Rygar would stand with him. Trystan was the only family he had.
“Well, let us not end the night on a distasteful note.” Trystan filled their glasses only part way as the last of the wine dripped from the bottle. “To friends who are family, those we’ve loved, and those we’ve lost.”
Rygar forced a smile with the last of the energy he had left. “May we never forget them.” The pair clinked glasses one final time and turned in for the evening.
* * *
The story stretched on so long that the concept of time seemed to blur. When the words finally ended, Cael remained seated, grappling with the weight of the outcome. “So it was a near-total loss. Our army was destroyed, my father slain, and our ancestral sword lost. I’m sure General Terran rolled over in her grave at the sight of it all. Had you not brought home the ring, I would have lost every tie that kept me tethered to my father.”
“We couldn’t have prepared, Cael. The king marched us in blind and, though our soldiers fought on to the end, we were routed. It was because of the sacrifice your father made that the last of us were given a chance to escape.” Rygar paced over to his window and said under his breath, “a sacrifice he should have never had to make.”
As Rygar looked down on the training grounds and barracks he saw the same flurry of activity he remembered from so many years ago. “A part of me died with him on the Heaven’s Fall. Not a day since has the guilt and shame I feel for that loss abated. Though, I’ve honored his memory by guiding you to becoming the man you are today.” Rygar turned back to see Cael had moved toward the door.
“His final wish was that I watch over you and your sister and not a moment goes by I don’t owe him that. He would be proud of you Cael.” Rygar glanced at the drawer of his desk before he spoke again. “Know that I will always have your interests at heart and that which is best for Namelle.”
“I know old friend,” Cael replied as he stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder. “And he would be proud of you too.”
* * *
Deep within the stone walls of the castle Alira poured over old documents from the archives. She lit a fire that burned in the hearth. One to keep the chill of the subterranean air at bay and she could use its light to better aid in her search. She thumbed through the books and cleared away dust from the spines in the hope of finding a bit of insight that might aid in the fight to come.
It was here that Alira felt safe, her favorite place in all Namelle. The sparsely lighted room deep within the castle always welcomed her with open arms and provided all the knowledge one could ever hope to attain. One that still seemed incomplete.
She found comfort in the silence and slight chill of the lower levels and, though she often declined to associate or interact with other people, this was a place where friends surrounded her. Friends with the greatest minds the continent of Nemesia had ever known. Alira often lost track of time, deep in study as though she trained to join the ancient Order of the Keepers.
“They’re all long since gone,” Alira said to herself as she combed through various piles of records. “Even still, their words transcend ages. Long since disappeared, yet they can still share their knowledge with us.”
As she looked through the stacks of books, one that was tucked away at the end of a shelf caught her eye. She recognized the black spine and red banding of it as the dark legends of Aenne Aelle. Those stories collected by the people of the earliest days which speak of the things too dark to ever see the light again.
She remembered her father reading to them the story which all the children in their realm were told. One of an entity of endless shadow, the Reaver. A beast so evil that if a person were so unfortunate as to look upon it, even the bravest would shudder in terror. Immobilized by the fear of its fangs, and claws. Most of all, the fear of the poison it secretes within itself. The only reprieve for those in battles long ago, was the promise of a quick death.
Zahra drew a sword against one when she was much younger and ran away from home. It was in the old forest, near the border of Khuldir she encountered it, yet she wouldn’t say how she survived. She only had the scars over her eye and the color within to corroborate the account. Alira was thankful there hadn’t been any sightings since the reported attack on her sister over a decade ago.
She pulled her gaze away from the shelves and Alira turned to look over her shoulder. Her eyes were drawn to the dusty collection of maps on an old, wooden desk across the room. She blew the dust off the old cartographic illustrations, and uncovered lands which remained hidden for many years. The first few maps she picked up and set aside. The first were maps of Namelle, Rihelle, Tirelle, then the realm of Aenne Aelle entire.
I’m always amazed at the genius of our ancestors. Aenne Aelle, the realm, and its cities–Tirelle, Namelle, Rihelle. Whomsoever was charged with our naming certainly wasn’t pressured for originality, but I do understand their reasoning for the convention of naming.
“Radia, the northern continent–maybe next time.” She progressed through the old collection, “Talliers, Shiun, Reyvia, Vockla-”
Alira’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes read the name written into the bottom right of one of the last maps, “Illyria.” Alira valued knowledge so it terrified her that so much remained unknown about the enemy in the north. To see the name of that realm, or to read that of any nation of the seven, held new meaning after the loss of her father and her brother’s briefing. It stoked a fire in her heart to avenge him, she only had to find a way how.
Every one of them will burn before the end. Though this begins with Essea, the rest will fall one by one. Envall, Carux, Imiril, Wardena, and Kelesia. At last, when the north lies in ruin, we will lay siege to your capital and raze Trella to the ground. Her thought of unending vengeance against Illyria was interrupted as the truth dawned on her. You’re no warrior Alira, this is what you’re good for; looking through these books for a way to help those who can actually fight. I will not shy away from an opportunity to prove myself to my brother, but if I am expected to fight–this will be over before it begins.
