Alliance

Prologue: The Barricade

They grant honor and prestige to all those who are strong and brave enough to join the King's army. Show your will, your grit, your pride, and you will be a hero. A person to be praised and sung about. Glory comes to all who join the King's Army!

"Glory comes to all who join the King's Army." Trevor barked a laugh at the memory. He heard those words spoken to him only one year ago when he was nineteen. He was fresh out of high school, and naïve.

He wasn't naïve anymore. Oh no, he learned his lesson.

Those two recruiters decked out in military fatigues were fake. Trevor should have known the moment he saw them. No real soldier smiles like that. With a glint in their eye and their whiter-than-white teeth. Their faces were smooth, young, and too handsome.

The two men stood on top of the broken fountain in the middle of the town square on Market Day. The townspeople crowded around them after being sucked in by one of their eager, friendly waves; their shopping pushed to the back of their minds.

Once a decent crowd was around them, that's when their lies flowed. "We have fought on many battlefields! But there was one most terrifying," the brown-haired man said. "We were on a flat grassy plain in the dead of night. The only source was the moon above to show us the way." He pointed upward to where the boiling sun hung.

"Aye," the blond-haired man nodded, his eyes lost some of its twinkle. His voice barely above a whisper, though no one had any difficulty hearing him. Most people, including Trevor, leaned forward to listen to the man. "In the dead of night, they ordered us across the field. None of us wanted to cross that long patch of grass, we knew the rebel had attacked that area before. Despite that knowledge, our superiors gave us orders. We crept silently, our weapons in our hands, our eyes wide with fear. Prayers sent to the gods above so that we would not find any rebels. The prayers did not answer us."

Rebel. Those were the people of the Wastes. The ones that cross into the King's lands and cause chaos wherever they go. They come to burn down farms and homes, to murder families and children, to steal clean food and fresh water.

"A rebel shoots up from the waist-high grass!" The brown-haired man cried. Shrieks from women echoed his yell. The man jumped from the fountain into the crowd. His arms raised for people to keep an eye on him as he snaked through the crowd. His voice carried above the heads of the townspeople. "We fought the rebels. Our bullets blazed across the ground toward the enemy. Toward the very evil itself. Our grenades found their bodies and exploded them into smithereens! There was nothing left other than smoke and mist of blood."

The man neared the spot where Trevor stood with his friends. Him and his friend's faces mirrored each other's. Awed, a gapped mouth. Wide eyes. Their bodies leaned forward to not miss a word.

From the fountain, the blond-haired man stood alone. His arms at his side, his head down in prayer. His words soft. "That day, we lost many good men. Only three of us survived. But all the rebels died. Killed at our hand." A few claps echoed around the town square.

"The next night," the man went on, "We did it again. Attacking the rebels." A few more cheers.

"The night after that, we infiltrated a rebel base, and each rebel died. We lost no men." The man's words were still quiet as cheers around the square swallowed them up. "We continue every night until all the rebels are out of the United Region. Until every single rebel is out of our home! Until we can safely let our children play outdoors. Until our wives can walk safely to the market without fear. The army will continue to restore safety to our land, but we need your aid. We need more men for the King's Army to protect this land. To protect our wives, our children! For glory, for honor and prestige! Join the King's Army!"