Genesis (Prophecy Rock Series, Book 1)

Chapter Twenty Nine

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Two days seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. Every possible preparation was made. Ballistae fully armed, swords sharpened, shields reinforced, horses fed. Not knowing if they were to return this day or not, soldiers clothed themselves in their finest gear. If they were to die on the battlefield, they would die with dignity. Honor. Duty. Kingdom. They reminded themselves of their oaths. 

Aric stared at himself in the mirror, his royal armor gleaming against the flickering candlelights in his tent. His silver armor with blue trim shimmered, polished to a shine without a hint of a scratch or dent. Only royal members were bestowed the honor of silver armor. The exclusivity of it made Aric’s feelings of privilege that much more intense. The remainder of the kingdom adorned themselves in the usual Vicedonian colors of blue and black. He caressed his shoulder and arm plates, feeling the smoothness of their surface with his fingertips. So clean, so nubile. His virgin armor had never seen battle. Not even during his practice sessions with Patros had he used this armor. He looked untouched, almost angelic. How he would look after the battle was no longer for him to decide. Aric was never one to fully commit to the Creator and the pantheon of gods that the rest of his countrymen swore to, but in this moment, he found himself kneeling, offering up a prayer.

“To the great family of gods who watch over us. I pray that you strengthen my body, my mind, and my soul for the battle at hand. Give us victory over those who would see us vanquished from this world. Steady my heart and my resolve. By the Creator and His family, I pray these prayers.”

He put on his helmet, three rows of jagged plumes jutted out from atop his crown, the center row bordered by two smaller ones, reminding him of dragon fins. He took one last look in the mirror, saw the boy who was leaving today and waiting for the man to come back. He exited the tent to meet up with his generals.

Aric felt the night sky pulsating with dark intent this evening. Steropes and Arges were down by the lake’s edge, pointing deliberately in various directions. Aric slowly made his way over. He stood by silently, waiting for them to take notice. It took them a bit of time before they finally acknowledged his presence.

Steropes bowed slightly. “My prince, your armor is… stunning. The mere sight of you will surely invigorate the troops this night.”

Aric could no longer decipher the sincerity of Steropes’ words. Every syllable out of his mouth seemed tainted. Aric felt the condescending nature of his tone, but no longer cared. He had more pressing concerns.

“Are all the preparations made, Arges?”

“Yes, my lord. Ballistae have been modified and tested. They average a longer range by about twenty feet. We’ve positioned them on the bridges as planned. The enemy did not seem to take notice, as no boulders or arrows were fired. The soldiers have gathered in formation down by the southern pass. My regiment is interspersed at even intervals throughout the army. We had originally planned for the Krakens to take up the vanguard, but if they were to be hit hard, we would lose too many of them at once. Also, before I forget, Titan has requested the honor of accompanying you at the head of the charge.”

The request brought a smile to Aric’s face. “Titan is a proud warrior, and I gladly accept. Where will the two of you be?”

“Alongside you, my lord, where our places should be,” spoke Steropes. Aric stared at him for a bit, unsure how to react. Steropes was an intimidating figure. Exceptionally tall and lanky, his mouth had been wounded in previous battles, leaving two scars running down the sides of his lips. He had been nicknamed The Puppet by many in the high council, and how well it suited him. His reputation for backhanded deals and conspiring to further his own ambition was well known. He had never been found guilty of any crimes of treason, but just one meeting with him and Aric knew he could never truly trust this man. He was a boastful man; although his feats in battle were well-deserving, he never seemed to let anyone forget, either. He was the son of King Maximus’ long time rival King Kreed of Nys. After the Vicedonian Conquest that united all of its neighboring territories into one mighty empire, King Maximus requested Steropes as his ward, to ensure King Kreed never dared rebel against him. Perhaps his life as a hostage to the Agiads twisted his soul into the conniving person he is today. Aric stared at Steropes’ serpentine eyes, pointy beard, and the two scars running down the sides of his mouth. Aric knew Steropes would not come to his aid in battle, despite his vehement declarations of loyalty and servitude. Aric turned to Arges whom he believed to have more of a connection to, especially since they had survived the Dark Forest together.