Varay Pov
The cold morning breeze ran through my white hair as I looked over the beach. A large tower stood to my right, acting as the main command post for Etistin beach where the Alacryan ships are expected to make landfall.
The waves of the sea grew and crashed, creating a soothing background noise that was drowned out by the people down below. The labored hard, fortifying defenses and building up barracks for the battle to come.
The Alacryan ships were still several weeks out, but Grey- King Grey has issued a direct order to begin preparations. Any nobles and even the council seemed unsure of his decision to focus so much of our focus to a single region but they all bit their tongues and obeyed.
While the common-folk seemed a bit more accepting of our new monarch many nobles and royal families seemed to be the complete opposite. But none dare challenge the new king's military might.
The only people who seemed to be open to him were the dwarves. But that made sense with them being under his rule the longest. And it is said that his main production centers for his war effort are located in and around the capital city of Darv.
It would be one thing to have a person who was a wanted criminal not too long ago come along and seize the throne himself but the soldiers he deployed were something else entirely.
Legions of warriors donning jet-black armor, each moving with such precision and efficiency they seemed more like machines than organic beings.
It wouldn't surprise me that they were actual golems of some kind Grey controlled. But the stranger thing was that he rarely deployed them in large numbers despite having enough of them to handily deal with the Alacryan invaders.
He sparingly used them if at all. And when he did he would often personally take to the field to lead them personally.
An approaching mana signature drew me away from my thoughts. Lance Bairon floated up to me as he surveyed the beach.
"Does Grey believe he can order us around as if we are mere game pieces? Having two Lances here is a waste."
I eyed my comrade. Among the Lances he was the one who took the new king rule the worst. Which was understandable with having his brother killed by him. But Bairon was always the emotional type, quick to anger and allowed his feelings to control him. Something I knew that could cost him dearly in the upcoming battles if he didn't keep his feelings in check.
"We may as well be, in his eyes. And he is still our king. No matter your personal feelings you are to address him with respect." I said, thinking back to our sparring session with the newly crowned king.
He called it a small spar. But it was more akin to a one-sided beating to show his own personal strength more than anything. Four Lances against one man. And we didn't even get him to break a sweat. I feared for what he was capable of when he was forced to.
Bairon sneered, wrinkling his facial features. I could feel the hair on my skin slowly rise as the air became charged with electricity.
"Calm yourself. You are still a Lance and your men look up to you for guidance and leadership." I reminded my fellow Lance. We were still soldiers at the end of the day. And igniting a civil war when there is an unknown enemy at our doorstep felt like a foolish idea.
Bairon still hung in the air for a moment. The air charged with static electricity that made both of our hairs rise. His face twisted into a sneer, he did very little to hide his disdain for Grey and the council's decision to have him be king.
In truth it made me worry as to whether he would go to extreme measures to attain justice for his brother's death. This ongoing war was the only thing that was keeping him at bay, and even if he had free rein Grey didn't seem like a ruler who would allow a Lance to go unchecked.
He probably could have killed us multiple times if he wanted to. The army he had in his disposable would suffice in number and overall quality to replace a Lance or two. The short time I had with King Grey in meeting and conversations painted him as a stern but capable military leader.
Though it was too soon to give any real judgement so far his outward age gave off the opposite air to what he truly was. He knows the Lances are more than our strength as individual mages. We represent the council and our relative royal families. Getting rid of us so sudden wouldn't help solidify his rule, especially with who he came to power.
Bairon finally relented as he clicked his tongue and cursed under his breath. His rage subsided as his mana signature died down.
It did make me wonder. Grey's mana arts was unlike I have witnessed before. In truth they were more mysterious than the potent magic the Vritra blooded warriors of Alacrya used. If he was capable of putting four white core mages on the ground with a mere gesture.
Just what was he? There have been murmurs and whispers, describing him to be one of the asuras. Sent down from Ephetous to lead us in this war, but then why has Lord Aldir and Lord Windsom given no message? It all seemed strange, the envoys of Lord Indrath all ceased without a trace, gone like there were mere myth and legends.
And here was a man. With records of him existing on Dicathen for quiet some time now but no there was still no clear grasp of his true origins. He was like a mirage, a hazy visage that evaporates when you reach too close.
"Why are we even here anyway?" Bairon asked. His tone still holding a hint of frustration and anger.
"King Grey wanted both of us to prepare Etistin bay for landfall." I replied curtly.
"For the ships? They are still weeks out and he wants two of the remaining four Lances to be mere guard dogs?" Bairon sneer again.
"The Alacryans are preparing to attack both Etistin city and the Wall. They intend to squeeze us from both sides, leaving us with little room to maneuver. It is a reasonable choice."
"And leave the rest of Dicathen unprotected?" Bairon snapped back. I was glad we were out of earshot of the rest of the people below. Having two Lances in public discord won't do much for morale.
"I understand you lack of faith with King Grey but-"
"He is no King of mine! You should feel the same way. We both pledge our allegiance to the Glayders and the council. Not to his poser who thinks raw strength is all to is required to be a ruler." Bairon's voice boomed like thunder. The clouds above turned dark grey as they stirred with malicious intent.
"The council was the one who elevated King Grey to his position." I warned Bairon. My core thrummed with mana as I prepared for the worst.
Bairon stared me down for a few moments. Gold tendril of electricity danced at his fingertips as he did so. I just looked back at him with a cold face I always used. The air turned a few degrees colder as mana coalesced in my hands.
The tension was palpable as we hung midair for a couple seconds with no further words passing between us. But in the end Bairon relented, his hold on his mana faded as he slowly began to descend.
I followed him down to the encampment below where our forced were. Long stone barricades and walls lined the beach.
Several feet apart were large canons the dwarves supplied us with. Using some kind of new material they had developed with Gideon. Being able to fire large projectiles with no mana required. Giving even people who lacked cores a way to aid the fight.
There even have been rumors among the dwarves of a smaller version of these weapons that were in development. I wasn't sure but it all seemed a bit strange that all these 'new' inventions are coming out just as there is a change in leadership. I couldn't be sure but I wouldn't be surprise at this pint if Grey had a hand in this. That would be the least weirdest thing about him at this point.
"Lance Bairon, Lance Varay." The soldiers saluted as we both landed. If they heard our confrontation from below, they didn't make it known.
"Status." I commanded.
"We are on track to add the finishing touched by sundown, general. But I mush ask? Why are we preparing weeks in advance?" One of the captains asked.
It was a valid question. This was one of the rare time where we had an actual time frame tow work within and it all seemed strange that we were already pooling resources to defending it.
And from what I have heard the Wall is in the same position. Although the Wall made more sense. Waves of corrupted mana beast led by warbands of Alacryans were frequent among the edges of the Beast Glades.
But if King Grey knew something we didn't then he isn't make it public knowledge.
"This is war. There is no such thing as being over prepared." Bairon answered before I could. At least he seems to be able to compartmentalize when needed.
It was a strange feeling though that I had also felt when Lord Aldir and Lord Windsom were present.
The feeling of being a piece on a gameboard. As something or someone far above my understanding is moving the pieces. The Alacryans by the Vritra, Dicathen by the asuras of Ephetous, and now King Grey.
Everything that we know about Grey all pointed to him not being just a simple lesser. From the way he conducted himself to the way he fought, he was something more. There were times when he would show the face of a young man.
Mostly whenever he converse with Commander Virion or the common people. But other than that he was like a wall. Vast in its size and scale and impenetrable. Whenever I met his eyes his gaze it was like staring into the abyss.
I could feel him staring past myself and directly into my very soul. As the darkness dragged me down to its depths and consumed me. Just what kind of life has he lived to give off just a feeling with a mere look.
With each passing day and each passing battle the status of Lances seemed to loose more of its meaning. I always knew I was a solider. From the day I began my training to the moment I was knighted as Lance.
I was a tool at the end of the day for the royal family and the council. But Grey was different. Even though it was impossible he seemed far more... alien than even the asuras. I have witness his announcement and ascension to the throne. And I hated myself for thinking this and even doubt my own mind but...
He was more akin to what most people would consider a god than the asuras of Ephetous. Some being that we can't hope to comprehend. Something that moves the pieces and cogs of the world.
I stared out into the horizon. The sunlight reflecting off the bright blue ocean. In a couple weeks a fleet of ships will bloat out that horizon as they come to invade our continent.
I took a deep mental sigh. It didn't matter what I felt. I was made for a singular purpose. Defending this continent and its people. No matter who holds the throne they can't take away my one true purpose and goal.
This war may change the world as I know it but I shall be there. Ready, to stand for my land. Whether they be demons or gods, I shall raise my blade for my role.
For that is what keeps me sane.
***
Neoth Pov
My mind was the first thing that returned to me. Thoughts and memories came back to me in a hazy mirage. Flashes of what had just transpired assaulted my brain as I struggled to process all of it.
I could feel the warmth and comfort of a healing spell that soothed my pain and confusion. I urged my eyes to open and only one of them did. My left eye stung with pain but did not obey my commands.
My eyelid on my right eye fluttered open but just like my mind the images it showed me was hazy and blurry.
I blinked a couple times, but it did little to help. I tried to rise but bouts of sharp pain both external and internal stabbed into my body.
"Stay put." A stern cold voice spoke as I winced at the pain. Without being able to move my body my singular good eye darted around trying to find the source of the voice.
I tried to open my mouth to speak but I earned was violent coughs that only sent further pain throughout my entire body.
And soon I relented, letting my body just rest as the healing spell did ran its course. I could feel it mend broken bone and muscle as it traveled all around my body. With little to no mana within my core the spell was acting slower than usual, being forced to rely on an external source of mana and aether to heal my broken body.
Time passed silently as I laid here, I didn't need my eyes to know I was in some sort of holding cell deep within the bowels of Oliurk's flagship. And the voice that spoke to me was my keeper I presumed.
As my body slowly began to heal I could feel my body becoming more reactive to my directions as I slowly stretched my body. It felt as if it was made of lead with how heavy and unmoving it felt. But it was better than actively dying I guess.
My eyes fluttered open once more, and this time I could turn my head to see who was the one in charge of holding me here. Not that it mattered, with my mana being constantly drained by my bindings I sure a half decent child soldier could keep me in check. And even if I were to break free from this cell then what? Fight my way out of an entire ship full of Djinn who will kill me with no hesitation?
Even with all my weapons and tools I wasn't sure I could accomplish such a task.
But what I saw did surprise me. A large warrior of gold and black armor stood perfectly still. With his halberd in his hands the appeared more like a knight statue that would decorate castles.
The only sign showing he was alive was the almost imperceptible aura the warrior emitted. The only reason I could sense it now was because I was staring directly at him, if it weren't for that I would have not even noticed his presence.
I couldn't help but stifle a laugh.
"If you are in good enough health to laugh than I presume you are healed enough." The large warrior said, his voice distorted by his helmet.
"Apologizes. I didn't expect one of the Emperor's custodians to stand guard over a criminal like me." I said as I slowly rose to a sitting position on the bed I was placed upon. It wasn't the most comfortable bedding of course. Just some thin mattress and sheets that were a far echo of the luxuries our race once enjoyed.
The custodian seemed to pay my remarks any of his attention as he stood there. Watching me silently.
Taking this chance, I looked around the room I was kept in. It was barren, dark stone walls encased us both. With no window, hell no visible way of entrance or exit for that matter. It was a completely empty room bare for the bed that was closed from all sides.
"Seems Vago isn't taking any chances, is he?" I called out to the custodian. And again, I was ignored.
Pushing myself off the bed I struggled to stand on my own two feet. The newly mended bones felt completely foreign to me, like a newborn taking its first steps. I stumbled the first few steps, almost breaking my nose in a magnificent dive but with slow measured steps I eventually reached the Emperor's guardian.
I have never truly been so close to one of the Emperor's chosen. The custodian order was said to have been officially established during the height of the Great Scouring, but rumors of their existence and groundwork dated far before that.
Ten elite soldiers, each said to have been taken in as newborn orphans. Each were overseen directly by the warlord as they underwent rigorous training and physical enhancements. Each warrior represented a perfect warrior, hand forged by a tyrant.
It is said they obey the Emperor's commands and no one else's. So loyal to almost a fault as they are seen more as emotionless machines carrying out the Emperor's will than actual living beings.
And I now stood before one. My head only came up to the custodian's lower chest. I had to crane my neck to stare at his faceplate. The vessel I currently inhabited was by no means small. It was originally the body of a young and healthy male Alacryan foot soldiers. But the custodian easily stood several feet above me in height.
I peered into the custodian's faceplate, his face completely covered with only two red eye lenses that shinned with a subtle glow.
"Are you the custodian who drew the short straw?" I asked, I knew trying to rial up a soldier like him was pointless but it wasn't like I had any more choice for entertainment before my death.
At this point I had accepted I was dying. It was a strange feeling, I had physically died so many times that I had lost count. I've gone through the pain of having my body destroyed time and time again, to the point that it rarely bothered me.
I've always forcibly ejected my soul, sending it racing towards a vessel that I had prepared previously. I knew death was encroaching but perhaps it was some kind of survival instinct to keep my mind sane. It all felt a bit detached from me for so reason.
As if I was just a reader of a story and the death wasn't my own. I shrugged the feeling aside, there was no point worry about it now. If this was my ordained fate than there was little I could do to fight it now.
"I am merely the Emperor's will made manifest, Highlord Neoth." The custodian finally spoke, his deep voice echoed and bounced around the empty room.
"So the rumor you guys being unfeeling machines is true then?" I asked as I walked over and sat upon the bed again. The mattress creaked and complained as I did so.
The custodian made some sort of noise. It took me far too long to realize it was him laughing.
"You Highlords and your weirdly elevated sense of grandeur. You believe you are masters of mana and aether and comprehend the world better than all others." The custodian spoke, the words he spoke suggested a certain amount of disdain or even hatred for the Highlords, but his tone showed no of the hidden emotions.
I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows at his statement. It wasn't often custodians spoke to anyone. And this one seems a bit more vocal about his inner workings. Perhaps I could dig out some useful answers from him. If anything, it is far more interesting than sitting here in silence. And it seems he feels the same way.
"And you believe you are any different?" I questioned.
"My brothers recognized just how blind we are in this world. That is the difference." He stated as if it was common sense.
"Yet you allow yourself to be ordered around by that old freak?" I said, pointing over my shoulder to the imaginary Vago.
The custodian issued another laugh.
"Our only commander is the Emperor. The chronomancer is Imperial regent yes, but he holds no true authority over us."
"It seems there is something in common between us." I said with a slight smile, which seemed to have annoyed the warrior.
"Highlord Vago has supplied ample evidence to label you traitor to our entire race. It is only by the Emperor's word that you still draw breath." He said in a more hostile tone that sent a chill down my spine. Like a small animal staring directly into the maws of a predator.
I swallowed dry saliva as I composed myself. Several seconds passed before I spoke again.
"I was under the believe the Emperor has exiled himself?"
"Then you are wrong traitor. The Emperor has returned to us and shall soon walk amongst us once more."
"Soon? You are saying his isn't in the state to lead his own empire?" I goaded; I was playing with fire at this point. If the custodian decided to silence me here and now there was nothing I could do but pray for a quick death.
"The Emperor leads the custodians through visions and dreams."
I couldn't help but scoff at such notions. The entire empire that holds the hopes and dreams of an entire race led by hearsay and fuzzy things like dreams? Just how far as our people fallen.
The custodian clearly sensing my disgust continued. "As a vivum user who specializes in soul manipulation yourself you should know better than to assume the worse."
But it was too late. The feeling of shame and disgust made me plead for this conversation to end. Lest I be haunted by the shame of an entire civilization. We once stood at the pinnacle of science and magic. Melding the two factors together to explore the world around us. For our people to end up being led by mere visions, oh how ironic.
"Why are you entertaining a dead man like me?" I asked, without trying to conceal any of my hatred for the custodian.
"As you've said it yourself. There is no reason to lie to a dead man. I believe you should at least be respected enough to hear the truth."
"Oh, lucky me I guess." My words oozed with sarcasm.
"But even so a traitor like you would never have been given this luxury."
"Oh? What makes me so different then." I was speaking over my shoulder now, laying upon the bed facing away from the golden bodyguard.
"The Emperor decrees your Fate is important. Hence the reason why I was tasked with watching over you. Before you ask, I do not know or understand why.
But the Emperor's words are law. And you shall stand before our master, alive."
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Author's Notes
Midterms are upon me. And I am very dead. With four exams in one day next week Imma hope I can survive.
But my suffering aside what did you guys think about this week's chapter. Sorry about no chapter last week, second year of University has been a real bitch. And having a bunch of exams next week probably won't help.
Not much else to add. I suppose Arthur might finally come face to face with the Djinn Empire. So that is gonna be interesting to write.
Also you can see my constant struggle to develop other characters. I believe the Lances wouldn't take having their importance destroyed right in front of their face all that well. And Bairon isn't the best with such things and may take some drastic and foolish measures.
Any questions? Comments? Concerns? Or commentaries? They are always welcomed and thank you all for reading. This whole writing project and each of you guys who take time out of your day to read my work really do brighten up my day and keep me going.
Have a good day.