Travis

I wanted to alter the reasoning behind everything a little more. When compared to the changes in the early chapter, I felt more of an emphasis on his sister was needed, and now that I had developed Syler a bit more in the later chapters, I wanted to take that into account. That is what is driving much of the changes--adapting to fit in with the more developed characters.

It is hard to believe that it has been over a month since the last update. That was on me because I have been so busy and distracted with many things. Still, I have not forgotten this task and have been planning and generating new ideas for the story as a whole. There were a good number of small changes to this. I had to rework it a bit to flow with both what Syler has experienced and to flow with the exclusion of the battle chapter. Most of it is similar to what the original was, but it is still probably worth a reread for those who have already read it. _______________________________ It was clear to all what the priests wanted. Each man here would have to either give a solemn vow to serve the Way or be enslaved. They knew their target audience well for such things were not lightly given by people of the West and were held in great regard. Oaths were sacred throughout all of the Western kingdoms and tribes. To violate an oath was to be labeled an outcast forever and to be rejected from all society. There were murmurs among the men as soon as the priests were gone. Their Angvardi guards did not stop them, so the whispers grew louder into full conversations. Some were vehemently proclaiming their opposition to these new oppressors and vowing to resist anything that would make them more like the invaders. Others were arguing that if the Elements had allowed them to be defeated by those following this "Way" then perhaps the Angvardi's gods were indeed more powerful and should be worshiped. A small number did not even attempt to debate the religious aspect of things, but argued that it was prudent to convert simply to stay out of enslavement. Some didn't appear to care, but sat silently while those around them fought on with increasingly louder voices. Syler was one of the latter group who sat silently contemplating the situation. Syler had always considered himself a man who believed only what he saw or experienced. He didn't know why that was so, but he had always felt that those who didn't require proof before believing things fell into the traps of rumors and superstitions. It wasn't like that with the Elements, though. He firmly believed in the presence and power of the Elements because he had personally experienced their presence and guidance. One time many winters ago, when he had been out late searching for herbs for his father, he had gotten lost in the rolling hills to the west of town. He had resigned himself to having to brave out the perilous night alone and began looking for whatever sparse shelter could be found. Just as he began to settle himself into a small clearing in the brush, he heard the thunder of a winter storm heading his way. In the open hills, such storms were deadly even for experienced frontiersmen and Syler had been just a young teen. He searched vainly for some sort of shelter, but there wasn't any and the storm was getting closer and closer. When he was about to give up hope, he felt the strangest presence come over him, one of peace and reassurance. It was then that he saw a fleeting image of a figure in a bright crimson cloak out of the corner of his eye. When he turned his head, it was gone. He followed it for several steps before catching another glimpse of the person. He followed the flashes of red until he came upon a small but dry cave. During the night, he wasn't afraid because he didn't feel alone even as the storm raged outside. Even though it was well below freezing and he had no fuel for a fire, he didn't even catch a chill. In the morning, he crawled out of the cave and found himself not far from town in a place he had thought he knew well. He had climbed the very hill that sheltered the cave since he was barely able to walk and never knew there was a cave below it. He would never have been able to find it had it not been for the mysterious figure who had led him there. Nobody ever found out who it was and Father told him that it was the Elements that had decided to save him. Syler could never figure out why they would have done so, but his story was hardly unique. Thanks to Havert's love for stories, he had heard of many others in both recent times and the past who had encounters with unexplained individuals who knew things that nobody could ever know or had terrifying powers. Though he had never knowingly encountered another Element directly, he was confident that they had guided him all throughout his life and given him a feeling of comfort and peace when he needed it most. On more than one occasion during trying times, he sometimes felt confidence when his rational mind could not find any reason to have. When he seeking out what to do with his life, he had consulted the Elements and they had guided Master Fitno to offer him an apprenticeship. The burly blacksmith had turned out to be an excellent choice of master as he took in Karusa and was kind to them both. Syler hadn't been sure about whether he should take him up on the offer as he had never done any work with metal before, but the night before he had to give his answer, he had a dream about a beautiful woman who told him to seize the opportunities in front of him. He had been so touched by the dream that he accepted Master Fitno's offer and had never regretted it. Syler knew as surely as he was sitting here that the Elements were real, but he had no such knowledge of these foreign gods. It did not escape his notice that the priests of the Way had not attempted to persuade their Sei audience that the Elements didn't exist, just that they were impotent and uncaring to the plight of those who worshiped them. Syler knew that there were many strange things beyond their own realm that not even the most wizened of wizards could explain. His people had venerated the Elements for as long as any could remember and there was good reason for it. The Sei had survived war after war in the past despite the odds because the Elements balanced hardship with triumph. It was the way of the universe and this was no different. The Sei were suffering terribly now, but the Elements would correct such a tragedy and the Sei would rise again. Believing that, how could he abandon the Elements now? They had watched over him and cared for him when he needed them. They had protected him and guided him throughout his life. If he were to cast them aside, what sort of man would that make him? Would he be able to shrug off all that he owed them in favor of a quick escape simply because the Sei had been defeated? Syler sat silently for many long minutes while those around him debated. Havert joined the debate some, though he didn't seem to take a particular side. Their captors looked on without interfering, though Syler could see their eyes were constantly swinging back and forth between the loudest of speakers as though they were evaluating their charges in case the argument broke out into a physical fight. After a half hour, Havert plopped down on the ground next to his friend and asked, "Whacha think of this whole mess?" Syler was cautious in responding, "I believe we must make a decision and either way, we are going to be forced to give up something." Havert rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. "O' course we are going to have ta make a decision. These Angvardi bastards are callin' the shots real good now and they know how to divide us. If they wanted a way of makin' sure we don't all suddenly rise up and lash out, this was the best way to do it. They know we love the Elements, but when we get faced with total defeat like this and the thought o' slavery, we are kinda stuck. They want us a thinkin' more on this than on fightin' or runnin' away because ain't nearly as dangerous if we are distracted. Then, once the decisions are made, it will permanently divide us 'tween those who did join 'em and them that didn't meanin' we don't no later trust each other enough to conspire against them Easterners." Syler had come to a similar conclusion, but was surprised that Havert had as well. Havert was always the narrow sighted one who rarely thought beyond the next wagonload he had to haul or where he was getting supper. If it weren't for his pa getting all the money that his son earned, Havert would have been on the streets long ago. Clearly, he had been listening to the debate and doing some heavy thinking of his own. "You are correct," Syler said with a long, weary sigh. "Many of us will not abandon our beliefs to side with those who have invaded us. Those men will provide them with plenty of slaves as well as let them know who will be most likely to resist and cause trouble in the future. On the flip side, many have had their beliefs shaken from this battle and will join with those they view as stronger. Those who do that will show themselves malleable, weak, and will be far easier to mold into a good little Angvardi pawn. "The Elements have never demanded a formal rite of worship like other religions and I fear that means that many of our kind believe they don't care about us. If there is no daily or weekly devotion, people don't always feel close to what they worship. Those sorts of meetings or rituals are designed to make individuals bond both with each other and the Elements themselves. It seems that that sort of loose environment has produced many who do not treat their religion seriously. Those men think that they can easily cast aside the Elements without repercussions since they never felt close to them in the first place. That would be folly because the Elements control Fate and will balance the scales should we stray as a people and betray them. Their wrath is fierce and can destroy any who cross them or show disrespect." "Yea," Havert mused. "That may be, but I t'ink that if they were goin' to interfere, they woulda done it before we got plastered. Right now, the Way's gods are in charge." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't fancy no thoughts on what the Elements mightl do ta us in the future, but the future ain't now. I don't have no intention of being a slave. The Elements are good and all, but if it means that I am able to live my life without a bunch o' chains around me wrists, then I will have to bid them a fond goodbye. I ain't got nothin' against them, just that I'd rather be free. Let tomorrow fuss with tomorrow, I'll be happy with livin' today." That part did not surprise Syler. Havert had never been overly religious. Freedom, fun, and the open fields were what drove him. He bore no ill will for the other man for abandoning the Elements. Each man had to make his own choice and was accountable to nobody but himself. Syler only wished that he had only himself to consider. He had Karusa to worry about. The Elements had spared him in the battle when so many died beside him so there had to be a reason. What that reason was, he couldn't guess, but he knew deep within himself that there was one. "Where do you stand?" asked Havert. "I will not abandon the Elements," Syler stated flatly. Before his friend could say anything else, he continued. "That doesn't mean that I would reject the Angvardi's offer." Havert crossed his arms and fixed a disapproving gaze on Syler. "And how is that goin' ta work? The Angvardi want us to abandon the Elements 'n join their Way." "Just because I might publicly join their religion doesn't mean I would in my heart," said Syler with a shrug. "So you would sorta convert, but not really." Havert looked for Syler to confirm or deny it, but got nothing but a blank expression. He waited for a few long seconds before throwing his arms up and crying out, "That doesn't make no sense! You would break yer word, your oath and that just ain't like you." With a grim smile, Syler responded, "I have no choice. I won't abandon my beliefs, nor will I abandon Karusa. If I don't convert, I am enslaved which would mean that I would have to abandon her. Since I can't convert and I can't abandon my sister, I must find another way. Therefore, I convert in public, but in private, maintain my belief in the Elements." The red head was incredulous, and Syler couldn't blame him. This position wasn't being discussed among the group at all. The Sei were men of their words: if they gave their solemn vow on something, they were bound by it. Their word was their bond and to break a sacred vow was unheard of. Those few that did were exiled from their city or village for seven years, though they rarely came back after that time. Those that did were forever shunned from society as pariahs. After opening his mouth and closing it several times as though he was wanting to say something but stopped himself, Havert finally managed to croak out, "You would lie and make a false vow?" "Yes," Syler said firmly, "I would. If it means I get to go back to my sister and take care of her, I most certainly would." "But how could you live with yourself knowing you violated your sacred oath?" Havert was no longer taking this lightly. Before, he had been slightly sardonic when describing their situation, but now he was serious, as serious as Syler had ever seen him before. Matching his friend's tone, Syler replied, "How could I live with myself if I allowed myself to become a slave and left her in the hands of the Easterners? There is no telling what will happen to her under their rule. I am not a fool, Havert, I know what happens when invading armies occupy a town, it is not good for attractive young women such as her. Alone, Fitno wouldn't be able to risk his life for her as he might need to because he has his own wife to consider. At least I have nothing else holding me back from standing up for her if they come to take her. I might not stop them, but I will at least have tried and made them work to get her." Instead of immediately responding, Havert sat back and pondered the response for a few moments and considered. "Me Pa is old 'nough to watch himself, but I still don't want ta leave him. He's a tough ole man and won't want to do nothin' to make life easy for tha Angvardi, but that is his choice. I ain't gonna get in his way and make 'im fuss at me. He'd just wallop me good if I did." He sighed and wiped his brow, "Ya ain't in that position, ya gotta watch your sister. So yea, I guess ya have a point even if it does mean ya have to make a false vow." His face spoke volumes of his distaste for their situation. Syler sympathized with that sentiment. None of the Sei were happy with their situation. Syler let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't do this lightly, you know. I have to watch out for my sister, that is all there is to it. If I must say or do things that I might not like, then so be it. These Angvardi are nothing but barbarian invaders, anything they force us to swear to is by its own nature null because it was done by force and was not of our choice." Havert let out a snort, "Just 'cause it was made by force don't negate its binding power." There was silence between them for many minutes. Syler knew that Havert was correct. Many defeated armies or raiding bands had been pardoned upon their vows never to take up arms against their captors again. It was near unheard of for any to violate that even if it was made at the edge of a sword with the threat of death awaiting those who refused to make the pledge. He knew that he was in the wrong for even contemplating this, but he had no other choice. The Angvardi wouldn't care about his sister and he couldn't just leave her to be carted off into slavery or worse. That left only one choice. "I am sorry, Havert," said Syler at last. "I wish there was another way, but there isn't." "I know, I am just disappointed. You were always the man whom I looked up to whenever it came ta doing the right thing, and ta see ya become a breaker of vows is hard to stomach." Syler had no idea that Havert saw him in that light. Despite their friendship, he had always gotten the impression that Havert saw him like a prudish stick in the mud. He thought Havert sort of viewed him as someone to drag into trouble simply as a challenge. Syler was not prone to rash actions nor was he wild by any stretch of the imagination. Having to care for himself and later his sister as he did had burned that out of him. He had no clue that Havert looked to him for anything other than perhaps a little extra coin or a favor. In an even tone, Syler replied, "Would you rather me be one who abandons his own family?" "No, I just wish there was somethin' else we could do." "We can't, so there is no point in wishing for it to be otherwise. The Elements have decided this path for us, all we can do is accept it." Havert had no reply for that, so they waited in silence while the debate raged around them. * * * * * A large gong announced the return of the four priests of the Way. The bottom of the sun had touched the horizon and they had come to hear each man's response to their offer. Throughout the day, the men had come to their final decisions one by one so the arguing shifted into an uneasy disquiet. The priest wearing a white robe stepped forward. "Men of the Sei, the time is nigh! Step forward and proclaim your allegiance! Join those of the Way in unity so that we may face the upcoming Chaos and win the victory!" The four directed the other Angvardi to begin rounding up the Sei into a long line. The line stopped by the four priests where each man was to give their final answer and either make their vow of conversion or march into slavery. The Angvardi guards were on high alert and kept an eye out on the most vocal of dissidents from the arguments earlier in case they tried to cause trouble. As the line began to slowly move forward, Syler could tell that it would take some time to process all of the thousand men in it. They were in the first quarter or so of the men, so at least they wouldn't have to wait as long. Both friends waited next to each other in line for thirty minutes before it was their turn to make their decisions. The four priests, helped by their special guards in the shiny armor, would listen to the men as they announced their decision. If they remained true to the Elements and rejected the Way, the priests would, with an expression that looked genuinely saddened, direct the guards to take the man to the right. There, they were had irons connected to a long chain clasped around their arms. Many men were on that line, but not as many as Syler had expected. More than three quarters of the men opted for the other choice. When asked of their decision, they went to one knee and gave their vow to the Way. The priests, with benevolent smiles, clasped each man's ears with both hands and welcomed them into the fellowship. When that was done, they dipped their fingers in a bowl of some sort of scented water and drew a complex shape on the new convert's forehead. What the shape was, Syler did not know for he had never seen it before. Once that was finished, they directed the men to the left where they were given food and water as they waited in another line to be further processed. When it was Havert's turn, he got down on his knee and proclaimed his loyalty to the Way. After the blessing and a quick dousing of water, he went off to the next line and it was Syler's turn. "What choice have you?" the priest in red asked. With a clenched jaw, Syler went down to one knee and said softly but clearly, "I pledge my loyalty to the Way." The priest smiled warmly and clasped him gently on both sides of his head for a moment. Syler half expected to feel something during this, but he felt only a hollow emptiness. He was a breaker of vows, something he had never expected to be. The priest dabbed his forehead with the water and Syler caught a scent of strange spices he had never smelled before. "Rise, man of the Way, and join your other brothers," the priest said when he was done. Syler did and joined Havert in line. The two said nothing as they waited in yet another line. This one, at least, was moving much quicker than the other because it branched off into multiple lines. When they got to the front of the line and were forced into nearby lines, Syler could finally hear what was being asked. There were several Angvardi men with scrolls and other papers. Each captured Sei was asked his name, military company, hometown, if he was married, and if he had any children. It was a census of sorts, Syler figured, to see exactly who they had captured and to learn as much information as possible about them. Both Havert and Syler went through the lines, answered the questions, were given small slips of leather with numbers branded onto them, and were told to keep those pieces on them at all times. Once that was done, they were directed into different small groups and reunited with each other and the survivors from their village. The sun was well below the horizon by this time and large numbers of torches were lit to provide light. Now that they had been processed, their Angvardi guards seemed more at ease and less on edge. The Sei were able to talk among themselves and even move around a little as long as they stayed within the general area of their small group. They were given bedrolls, likely raided from the Sei's camp, to sleep on for the night. After the ordeal of the battle and the capture, most of the men quickly went to sleep without protest. Syler lay on his back staring at the stars and listening to the rumble of men all around him. Even at night when most of the men were asleep, there was always noise. It was a day that had changed the lives of all of these men forever. When the sun rose, it rose upon the Kingdom of the Sei. When it set, it set upon the Angvardi Empire. Tens of thousands had been killed in the battle on these very fields and more had been wounded. Nothing would ever be the same for any of them. The only thing Syler could do is trust the Elements and whatever plan they had. He would accept the future and work as hard as he needed to in order to protect and provide for himself and his sister. So far, the Angvardi had not been cruel to any of them, even those who had chosen slavery. Perhaps that was a sign that things would work out well for them. With that hopeful thought, his eyes drooped closed and he drifted into sleep.

I should have clarified, but the DA group follows the same guidelines as Jnet does and therefore must be PG-13 with no nudity in it.

As part of a larger drive to diversify this site, the admins authorized me to make an official Jnet group on DeviantArt. It is now up and waiting for members to fill it with all of the awesome art and literature that we have made. The group is called Jnet-Artists and is designed to essentially display anything our members make. Yes, it is mainly Star Wars themed, but that is not its only function. All art is welcome, as long as it fits within Jnet's rules regarding adult content. What I would very much like to see is for people who have produced art for the site to make an account there (it is free), upload their art, and submit it to the group. This site is filled with stories and Star Wars themed art (signatures, avatars, etc) that would do fine there. The only thing is that, if you are submitting a sig or avatar, it cannot have any art that is not either official (such as from the movies or a comic book or video game artwork) or made by your own hands from scratch. If you found a really cool picture of a guy on the web and edited it a bit to make a sig, that cannot be submitted on DeviantArt. If you took some picture of a Stormtrooper from a Star Wars video game and made it into a sig, that is fair game as George Lucas has made it very clear that he is all for allowing fans to use his stuff for non-profit purposes. This applies to all sorts of fan based material. Another thing, if you are part of some other Star Wars fan group on DeviantArt, let me know and I can see about affiliating Jnet-Artists with them. That would be a cool way for us to get more attention to our artwork and the site as well as possibly give our artists inspiration and ideas for their own work. I want to make this group flourish so that it can further inspire us to make more art and possibly bring some attention to this site.

Hey Chris, if Tim doesn't have at least one chapter posted by the time you are ready to come back to the States, steal his passport and refuse to give it to him until he finishes, even if you have to mail it to him from California.

Ironically, I had a dream last night that I was a very Clloud like character whom everyone was trying to get to come out of retirement and fight once more. I remember that I was like "I did my duty, someone else needs to step up and take charge."

It was a good story. You had great characterization and plenty of simple description that wasn't so long and boring that it distracted from the speeding cars. This was clearly a fast paced story and I found myself reading through it at lightning speed. Even more, you managed to write in a way that the inner voice I had while reading it was easily able to come up with different, unique sounds for each character which made it easier to envision Sephiroth's calm dialogue and Zach's panic.

Ahhh, okay. I thought that "invested" might have been too obscure a word to make sense. What do you think about that as a replacement for the sentence?

Okay, that was me trying to be all technical using old time terms. In this case, "invested" meant that the battle had began and both armies were committed/invested to/in the fight. I shall change it. Typo, it has been fixed. The last half of this sentence feels off balance."and of truth of all things" feels slightly clumsy. Maybe "and their truth of all things"? Another typo, meant to say "and THE truth of all things." Again, typo. That is why I am glad to have you guys here looking over it. I tried to get as much as possible, but sometimes you miss the forest for the trees. I definitely know how you feel. As a writer, it is hard to cut anything out because so often (usually in school reports), we are trying to meet a word deadline and each word is hard. In this case, I had to weigh what I was trying to do and, after months of thinking on it and looking at the overall picture, I came to the conclusion that I could do without it. I will be honest, a good part of that comes from seeing how masterfully George R. R. Martin handled the Song of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones) series where he only rarely showed the action in a battle. He often didn't even mention the battle itself other than to say "and so and so defeated so and so and this is what resulted." While I don't seek to mimic any single author, I did see an opportunity to "gain" words for other uses (books have a sort of natural limit where they get too long which is why I cut it where I did) and an opportunity to speed the beginning up. Don't feel too sad though. Something I am slightly considering is a "Saving Private Ryan" introduction where I have the Prologue then immediately throw Syler and Havert into a big battle with little explanation of who they are. If I do this, I would attempt to show their desperation to survive, the confusion, the chaos, and the carnage just as that movie did. I am not sure about it and am going to ponder more and ask people who have read the book what they think before I do that. If I end up doing it, I will take the core of the old battle chapter and expand/rework it and drop the current first chapter. Regardless, you still have the Battle of Thattos to enjoy and I can guarantee you that there will be many more battles both great and small to enjoy in future books.

Next chapter is half done. I did put forth a good number of changes here, namely cutting out an entire chapter. Originally, Chapter 2 detailed the advance and action of the Battle of Fazei Crossing and the ultimate defeat of the Kingdom of the Sei. I went into explicit, blow by blow detail for Syler and some of Havert (who fought his way over to Syler) and then ended with the general call to retreat and the lowering of the King's banners signaling surrender. If you really want to read it, you can in the first draft. I am considering what happened there as canon even if it didn't get explicitly shown. I took a page out of the Song of Ice and Fire series and have decided to leave out the direct action and instead focus on the aftermath. I added a good deal to the first part of this section, but kept the last half or so mostly intact (with a few changes to reflect further definition of the religion and plot). Sasori, you wanted some reflection and some ways to help sympathize with Syler, I hope this starts along that road. How Syler reacts to the offer (next part) should give you more background into his life as well as how he thinks. I hope that helps with your concerns, but I am still going to be going back and touching up the first chapter regardless. That is a critical chapter, I know, and I want to get it as right as possible. Chapter 2 Conquer a people through strength of arms. Control a people by breaking their spirit. Make them love you by showing them kindness. Make them one of you by converting them. — Angvardi proverb Fazei Crossing, Kingdom of the Sei Gladisial 15th The cries of the wounded and dying filled the air as Syler stumbled into an open spot and collapsed in a heap of blood soaked and mud covered armor. Havert fell down next to him while clutching his broken spear in one hand as though the three foot long piece of splintered wood would do him any good against a sword or magic. Though there was some sporadic fighting here and there, the Sei's banners had been struck and those who could were withdrawing in complete rout. The battle was over and the Easterners were completely victorious. It had been morning by the time their company had arrived and the battle was already underway. Tens of thousands of men were engaged in a brutal, bloody battle stretched out over two miles of gently rolling hills on the east side of the Mastar River. They had abandoned all of their unnecessary gear and forded the river to join in, but the four hundred of them wouldn't even make the scales waver in this battle. The Sei numbered somewhere around seventy thousand—an impressive force by any reckoning—but the Angvardi had near three times that number and far more wielders of magic. Despite the futility of it, they had marched headfirst into the maw and did their duty for their king. They soon found themselves facing thousands of heavily armed Easterners in scale or plate armor with proper swords or steel tipped spears that were far better crafted than what the conscripts had been equipped with. Despite the fervor of their attack, they were cut to shreds. Even as the survivors collapsed to the ground in exhaustion and surrender, two thirds of their original number would never rise from where they lay. Syler and Havert had fought side by side in the battle and both had drawn blood and been bloodied. Syler didn't think he had actually killed anyone, but his axe was covered in blood and at least two Easterners would be going around one arm short, if they survived the storm of spears from his comrades. Havert's spear had broken off in the chest of an Easterner in shining heavy plate armor that, in the end, did nothing to preserve his life. Syler had taken a glancing blow to his right hip. Under the heat of the summer sun with all the fires and ruin around them, it was throbbing and seeping blood onto the ground where he sat. Havert's right shoulder had been stabbed by an enemy spear, but his mail had slowed the blow down enough so that it didn't penetrate his shoulder blade. A few of the men from their company staggered away from the Angvardi lines and tried to find an empty space near them to sit in. Syler was dismayed at how few of the men from Sandrin he could see. It wasn't long before Angvardi on horseback came trotting up to inspect their small group. Those whose faces weren't covered by helms wore expressions completely unlike the ones worn by Syler's adversaries while in battle. Then, he supposed that his own expression was radically different. The Angvardi were surprisingly kind and even a bit sympathetic as they began rounding them up and sorting them out. Some even seemed to respect the men who had fought so fiercely despite the hopelessness of their cause. The Angvardi weren't overly harsh, but they clearly meant business and expected their commands to be followed out immediately. While being sorted, a few men had resisted and had been beaten harshly with cudgels or other weapons. Some who had tried to flee the field were brought down with arrows or magic and left to rot. Beyond that, there had been no summary beatings or looting of individuals and the Angvardi exhibited great constraint. Several hours passed following the surrender and the late morning had grown into midday afternoon. Shortly after accepting the conditional surrender from King Granad, the Angvardi immediately sprang into action with precision and purpose. Their first order of business was to disarm the Sei and separate them into groups of a thousand so they couldn't revolt and continue the fight. The Sei were forced to march by specific points and leave their armor and weapons in massive piles. As they did, they were warned that anyone found with weapons or armor from this point forward would be severely punished. From there, they were divided into ten rows of a hundred each and forced to sit in the early afternoon sun. Once there, they stayed under the watchful eyes of their guards while the Angvardi did whatever they were doing. There were frequent cheers among the Angvardi camps as a great hero of the battle made some sort of speech or handed out ale, but the Sei were silent and sullen. For the Angvardi, it was but one more great victory to add to their list of accomplishments. For the Sei, it was the end of everything they had known. Syler and Havert soon found themselves disarmed, stripped of armor, and sitting in a long row with a hundred other Sei. Nine other identical rows stretched out in front or behind them making the full thousand. There was little shade against the sun, but at least they weren't in their armor and could feel the occasional breeze. Healers and magic wielders were sent out into the field to see whom among the fallen could be saved. As far as Syler could tell, they did tend to the Sei, but their focus was clearly upon their own wounded. The men who had been forced to sit in rows had been checked for major injuries before hand and those who needed treatment were allowed to go to special areas to await it. Neither Syler and Havert had been deemed injured enough to go to the hospital tents, so they were left to sit with the rest of the men. A middle aged woman eventually came by and washed out their wounds before handing them a bandage to put over it, but that was all the treatment they received. Syler wasn't bitter about it because, while his wound hurt, it wasn't a mortal wound and he knew there were many others who needed far more help. Talking was not permitted, so they sat in silence while each contemplated his future. Now that they had nothing to do but think and remember, the emotions and memories of the fighting just hours ago began to hit Syler. He had done things that he had never contemplated doing before. Never in his life would he have wanted to hack at another man's arm or cause anyone harm. Syler had never been a violent man or one who wished ill upon another. When he had been fighting, he reacted by instinct and did what he had been trained to do and what came natural. He defended himself and his fellow countrymen. The violence, the blood, the screams, and the smell of sweat borne of fear all came back to him in vivid memories seared into his brain. He had been around a butcher's shop during slaughter, but the gore and blood he had seen was beyond anything he had encountered before. Seeing animals cut and hacked into pieces was one thing, but seeing people, some of whom he had known, in the same fashion was something else. As he sat there in the afternoon sun, Syler didn't think he would ever shake those memories for as long as he was alive. He didn't even want to contemplate what his dreams would be like. How do the other men do it? he wondered. He knew that there were many in his village that had fought battles before and killed men. Perhaps those men were stronger than he to be able to go back to their previous lives. Then again, perhaps not. Suddenly, Gronald's drunken nights and angry behavior made a lot more sense. The burly man had always had a quick temper and was always in a bad mood. Syler knew that he had been in battle before when fighting the Sua three years ago and he didn't think that was his first taste of fighting. Now that he thought about it, the man's drinking and attitude had probably been his way of dealing with the memories. Today, he had hurled himself into the battle with a rage that frightened him even more than the sharpened steel of the Angvardi. The only way Syler could describe it was that the man had been in blood rage. It was so bad that he had killed two more men even after his arm had been hewn off. Like so many, Gronald had died, but Syler didn't think he would forget the sight of him fighting his way though surrounded by foes and with only one arm left. With all of his heart, Syler hoped that he wouldn't end up like that. Sergeant Keil had been a good man who was tender to his wife and kind to his children. Syler knew that he was no stranger to battle and had killed before. In their charge today, he had been passionate and brave, but without the bloodlust that Gronald had displayed. If he could handle the haunting memories perhaps there was hope after all. Syler was saddened when he realized that he couldn't see the sergeant among the men sitting around him. He hadn't seen the officer die, but he had been more focused on fighting than counting the deaths of his friends. Keil had been a good man, not so brutal as to garner rebellion and not too soft as to encourage laziness. As time passed, his thoughts began to shift to the future. Assuming they weren't executed or enslaved, he would go home. He had hacked into men with his axe and seen his friends and neighbors die screaming in pain and terror. How would he face his sister after what he had done? She was a peaceful soul who didn't even like the slaughtering of chickens and couldn't watch when someone slaughtered larger animals like pigs or cattle. Try as he might, Syler couldn't recall actually killing anyone, but he had made it possible for others to do so by slicing and hacking his way through the forest of limbs and torsos. Would she consider him guilty of killing even if it was not his hand that actually landed the blow? Syler wasn't sure how she would feel, but in his heart, he felt complicit just as though it had been his own axe that came down upon the neck of his foes. He could only hope that Karusa would understand and that he could somehow return to how things used to be. That was assuming they would be allowed to return to normal. What would life be like under Angvardi control? Would the Angvardi even care about their tiny little village? Would they punish him for fighting against their armies? Syler knew that his questions were no different than everyone sitting beside him, but there was nothing they could do until the Angvardi told them. They were the ones in charge now and could do whatever they wanted regardless to whatever agreements that had made with their king as part of the surrender agreement. Syler looked over at Havert who seemed to be dealing with his own internal struggles. After a quick glance around to make sure none of their guards were looking their direction, he reached over and patted his friend on the shoulder for a moment. The touch seemed to shake the other man, but he didn't cry out or react in too obvious a way. Havert did glance over with a small grin before resuming his contemplations. The look would have given Syler hope except it was utterly devoid of the normal carefree mannerisms that characterized his friend. That alone told him how much he was suffering, but there was nothing he could do right now. Their Angvardi captors didn't want them to starve to death or die of thirst, at least. Buckets of water and a ladle were passed around along with bread and a small piece of salted pork jerky for each man. In time, some who needed to relieve themselves were allowed to go under guard to do so. They were not bound, but they had been instructed to remain sitting. Those who tried to lie down were quickly ordered back up and those who didn't immediately comply were kicked until they did. As the sun was dipping toward the horizon, the men in Syler's group were called to attention. In front of them, flanked by soldiers armed with swords and brilliant shields bearing the Angvardi mountain and stars, were four men in colored robes. They did not appear to be practitioners of magic, nor were they armed, but the soldiers seemed to defer to their instructions, even the sergeants. Syler didn't know who they were, but he figured he would soon find out. One of them, dressed in forest green robes, stepped forward first and began to address the thousand men sitting before him. "Hear us, men of the Sei, for we speak words that shall free you from ignorance and save your very souls. We are here to show you the Way of the Tetrarchy and the truth of all things. I am a priest of Tantis the Founder who dictated all the laws of the universe ere it was even formed. He determined that the world would be flat, that fire would be warm, that things would fall down and not up, and that man live for a season before returning to him. It was he who established the presence of magic to help and guide man on his journey. Without him, nothing that exists could function and life would be forever snuffed out in Chaos." Another man, this one dressed in blue robes stepped forward. "I am a priest of Mewela the Former. It was she who formed the universe according to the laws of her husband, Tantis. She formed the dirt and stones and sands and water that make up Teladia. It was she that made the trees and grasses and animals and people who live on this world. It was she that formed all that we can see, feel, smell, taste, or hear. So that we may know how much she loves her husband, Tantis, she gave us the capacity to love. So that we may despise evil and the deeds of those who dwell in Chaos, she gave us the capacity to hate. All that we feel comes from her. Without her, we would not even exist in this world but dwell forever in Chaos." The man in red robes joined the other two and said, "I am a priest of Salgeus the Sustainer. He is that which sustains life and ensures that it may propagate and survive. He maintains the laws founded by Tantis within the world that was formed by Mewela. Through his grace, we live in peace and happiness. Through his ill will, we experience hardship and despair. He guides and protects the righteous with his love and compassion and punishes the wicked with his wrath and vengeance. Without him, the world could not sustain itself and all would perish into Chaos." The last man dressed in white moved in front of the other three before speaking. "I am a priest of Featwel the Uniter, the one who gives us harmony. He maintains the balance between all things so that Chaos does not overcome us all. He tempers magic, guides nature to follow its laws, and ensures civilization does not collapse. He unites the laws of Tantis, the formations of Mewela, and the sustenance of Salgeus so that all may benefit and be spared the machinations of Chaos." As the priest of Featwel continued to speak, he raised his arms to the sky, "All four of the Great Tetrarchy are to be revered and worshiped for what they have done and continue to do. The gods are not selfish, nor do they withhold their blessings to those who petition them and follow their ways. Those of the East have long worshiped them and experienced those blessings firsthand. We have comfort, sustenance, law, order, and guidance aplenty. Our fields flourish as do our numbers. We have great cities and places of learning. We have marvels wrought by both mortal hands and magic that astound all. The Angvardi are a mighty people, yet we too needed the unity that Featwel represents. After many centuries of foolish infighting, our most benevolent Empress married the mighty king of our rivals, the Terulans. Now, united at last, we are the most powerful empire ever to exist upon the face of Teladia and now we have a new, divine task to accomplish. "We have conquered your lands not out of greed or a desire to expand. We did not do so to destroy or pillage them like thieves. We did so to save us all. As the prophets have foretold, the Coming Darkness, nigh upon us. Even your Elements have foretold of such an event, but unlike those impersonal and apathetic beings, our gods care for our fates and do not wish that any should be consumed. Blessed Salgeus, the Sustainer of all, has gifted the prophets and seers with a way to stave off our eternal destruction: we must all unite as one just as Featwel does for the all of Formation. Only then will the mortals of this realm have a hope to stand against the armies of Chaos and find out way into the loving embrace of the Tetrarchy. "We urge you to give up your old ways and to embrace the Way as we have. If Formation is to survive the Great Chaos, we must do so as an united people with one voice, not dissenting individuals who speak in many ways and at many directions. Without Unity, there can be no escape from Chaos and all that has been founded, formed, and sustained will be destroyed forever." Done at last, the priest lowered his arms and gave a quick, silent prayer. As one, the four priests withdrew to where they had been before the speech and an Angvardi officer in glittering plate armor stepped forward. "Men of the Sei, I, on behalf of the benevolent and kind Empress Celienna, am here to offer you a choice. All of you have taken up arms against Imperial forces and many of you have spilled Angvardi blood. The normal punishment for waging war against the Crown is enslavement. We are prepared to forgive this most heinous of transgressions and offer you a chance to join us in our efforts to protect Teladia against the coming Chaos." He stretched out his arm over the men in a sweeping gesture, "All of you who are married have a chance to go back to your families and provide for them if you will but reject your apathetic and cruel Elements and embrace the warm, loving arms of the gods. Learn of the Way and join us in faith. Those who do so will be sent back to their families on the morrow to serve the greater good alongside their wives and children. "Our offer of mercy is not just for married men. For those who are not married, if they convert tonight, they will not be sent as slaves to labor for the rest of their lives. Instead, they will be given the opportunity to start fresh, to build a family, and to unify the lands through their labor. They will be given tasks suited to their skills so that they may be productive and benefit the whole of Unity. In time, they will have the opportunity to expand beyond their present position and join the Imperial Army, own a plantation, or even travel the lands as merchants. The choice is yours, but you must make it tonight." The officer's voice lowered and became deadly serious, "Those who do not accept our most generous offer will never be given the same opportunity again. Do not take this lightly for the life of a slave is not an easy one and few ever escape its chains. It would be a tragedy if you were to reject our simple offer out of misplaced devotion to deities who have already forsaken you and allowed for your defeat. "Think upon it. You have until the bottom of the sun touches the horizon to make your decisions. Do not let any other man sway you against joining us through words or deeds of intimidation. Let them suffer for their choice while you move on to acceptance and happiness." When he was finished, he let his eyes pass over all of them as if trying to instill in them the gravity of the situation. When he was satisfied, the soldiers and priests left and moved on to the next thousand captured Sei.

My counter is that the entire first chapter is me starting earlier. I don't want to have two or three chapters before the big changing point. I am not sure if you are viewing the war as being some culmination or high point, but it is not. That war is over by the start of the second chapter and that is where we start to see Syler for who he is based on the hard decisions he has to make. Let me get my second chapter up and see if you still feel the same. Some things I have decided, though. To make more logical sense timeline wise, I am making the news Havert brings to be word of a second round of conscriptions. The war would have been waging for a month or so at this point with Angvardi armies pushing through the Sei border defenses and threatening the capital (the one that fell by the time they were marching). I will alter a few things in the first chapter to address the very valid concerns you raised.

Karusa was mentioned, but you are right, I should put more emphasis on who she is. Originally, that entire section (up to the conscription itself) was non-existent, so I need to be careful not to get ahead of myself. It shall be addressed. Never thought of it like that. Nonetheless, there are a lot of differences between the two words, so I don't think I need to change it. I have never read or seen the Hunger Games. That method of conscription was used historically at different times whenever various lords needed workers or soldiers. True, and true again. My intent wasn't to make Syler the best, most happy of guys. He is a person, not a perfect model. He has flaws, he has strengths. Not everyone is instantly likable, nor are all people extremely complex and "unique" characters with unique, special histories. Syler is a pretty common, uneventful guy from this point forward, but he is not so common as to be intentionally bland. There is a lot of exploration of his motives, beliefs, and willpower in the aftermath of the upcoming battle. As you mentioned, Syler was already an established man with a life of his own when we first met him. The war he is about to be thrown into is nothing but a minor skirmish in the grand scheme of things. It's intent is not to be the focus of the action nor is its intent to be the climax of the story. Instead, it is the catalyst that takes away everything Syler (and Havert) have and to throw them into a situation they are not comfortable with and that is completely strange to them. It will also set into motion the plot of the story with Syler trying to find a way back to Karusa and eventually running into a heap o' trouble that puts him in the center of a much, much larger war. I fully understand your concern about throwing him into war so suddenly, but that was intentional. War came of a sudden and will be over nearly as quick, but that is not the true war. My original ideas for the character were to actually start the story essentially at Chapter 2 (originally Chapter 3) after a rather large battle in which his country had been conquered, his sister kept from him, and he and his best friend in captivity being marched away to a strange land. To me, that is more concerning than your mention of the speed of things. I am going to definitely sit on that and ponder a way for it to be changed and for me to rework a bit of the first chapter. As you said, it is key to get things started and clearly I need work on it. I am going to be taking a week long vacation away from the internet starting this Sunday, so I will take that time to ponder on it. In the meantime, I plan on getting the first part or maybe all of Chapter 2 up for you to consider. The rest of what you mentioned, including some of the typos, will be addressed when I work more on the first chapter after my vacation. I am not ignoring them because mostly, they are right and I will address them.

That works, Brendo. If I bring about any major changes (like in the last section), I will fire off a PM so you can know to read through it. Moving on. The second part of the chapter didn't receive many changes. I considered going into a lot of stories and old myths, but don't see that as being necessary at this time. I do intend on having Havert play a larger role as storyteller, but I want to do it bit by bit over time instead of as an overwhelming piece at the beginning. __________________ Road to Kasas Sei, Kingdom of the Sei Gladisial 14th As the sun was at its highest on the sixth day of their march, their company saw several other standards surrounded by hundreds of glittering figures in the distance marching toward them. They weren't another conscript company on their way to the capital because they were heading the wrong way and numbered far more than any company would. Of greater concern was the fact that they couldn't make out exactly what the standard was or who the men are. Worried that this might be hostile, Sergeant Keil ordered their horn to be blown to signal the other body of men and to determine their identity. A deep bellowing sound blasted out from their ranks followed by a much higher note that trilled off. It was a standard sounding for all of the Sei just as the short triple blast was the standard for the Sua. A few moments later, the same sound, though more distant this time, rang out from those ahead of them and echoed back from the hills. Keil breathed a sigh of relief, they were indeed fellow Sei. For a moment, he had been concerned that they were a Suati or Koshi raiding party taking advantage of the chaos or even an advance force for the Angvardi, but nobody, not even the despised Kuti would falsely identify themselves in such a manner. A small cloud of dust streaked toward them from the other company as a rider on horseback wearing a fine hauberk with dark green splints incorporated into the sleeves approached. He pulled up in front of their line and saluted them with a raised fist. His chest plate and mount were emblazoned with the crest of the Seinari. "All hail!" he said. "What company is this and who is your officer?" Keil stepped forward and returned the salute before replying, "I am Sergeant Keil, officer of this company from the village of Sandrin. We have orders to march to Kasas Sei with all available haste." The rider shook his head. "I am Sergeant Dorantis of the Third Wing. We are the rearguard for General Yazer's entire division marching to battle. We have been encountering scattered conscript companies for the last two days and rallying them to the cause. Your company is to fall into line and join us in our march to meet up with the general." "I have orders to march to the capital. They came straight from General Montane of the Second Wing," Keil said with a frown. "General Montane is dead, as are most of his wing," said Dorantis. "Kasas Sei has fallen to the Angvardi." Murmurs began to spread throughout the company at the dire announcement. Even Keil looked pale as he soaked the news in. For the capital to fall so suddenly could mean only that it was taken by force without a siege. The high walls of the city and its standard garrison of twenty thousand men would not have fallen easily, especially if the Second Wing were there to complement them. The Angvardi host must have been monumentally strong to have accomplished such a task. After a few moments to compose himself, Keil asked, "What of the king?" "As far as we know, he made it out on the swiftest mounts escorted by an entire cavalry battalion and numerous magic wielders. We all have orders to rally at Fazei Crossing to hold the ford at all costs. If the Angvardi cross the Mastar in force, they will soon overrun the west." There was a sigh of relief that the king was still alive, but the men were concerned. For a brief moment, Dorantis looked out over the men with a look of impatience and possibly disgust. For one who was used to the disciplined regular armies of the Seinari, being around such open display of emotion was clearly not something he was used to tolerating. If he noticed the look, Keil didn't show any indication of it and responded with a controlled voice. "Very well, Sergeant. I will order our men to fall in with your column." With one last salute, the mounted sergeant wheeled his horse around and galloped back to his men. They had been heading almost dead south, but now they would need to turn to the east to get between the invading army and See Sei, the second largest city in the kingdom. Fazei Crossing was a crossroads between the road that went north and south from Kasas Sei and See Sei and another road that went from the eastern border of the kingdom to the western one. It was a strategically important place for another reason, too. Fazei Crossing had the best ford for crossing either Mastal river and the only one in which a hostile army of any great size could cross. There were plenty of bridges across the river, but they would be broken and burned before any enemy could take them so the only other way was ford the river. Once they did, the western parts of the kingdom would be open to attack. Even as the other company began marching toward them, many of the men were murmuring among themselves. The news had hit them hard and helped to sink in just how real of a threat they were marching toward. Some of the men tried to be optimistic, but most were expressing doubts or anger. Keil was quick to silence the most vocal of pessimists, but even he couldn't keep a solemn look off his face. Some looked like they might protest Keil's actions, but they didn't have time to because the others had arrived. First and foremost among them were fierce looking men in glittering, matching armor and precise steps. Each of their weapons was of top quality and held precisely at the right angle. They were true warriors, the Seinari, trained every day for battle and fighting. As they approached, the entire conscript company fell silent and backed off the road to give them the right of way. A few of the officers on horseback eyed them as they marched on, but none of the rank and file spared them a glance. They kept their eyes forward and continued to march in their perfect rhythm. Behind them were several other companies of conscripts that looked more or less like their own mismatched unit. When they had passed, Sergeant Keil quickly got them into ranks and followed. None of the men gave him any more problems for no one wished to look foolish around the other companies and especially not the Seinari. It wasn't long before they were on their way again heading back the way they came. They would have to backtrack northward for three miles before turning east along a smaller road. Along the march, Havert managed to work his way up until he was marching next to his friend. At first he was silent with only the sound of marching boots and clinking metal to be heard, but that didn't last for long. He whispered to Syler, "This ain't no good at all. Kasas Sei hadunt fallen in two hundred years." "I know," Syler replied. If his friend was doubting, that was a bad sign. Havert was almost always optimistic. Now, it would fall to him to hold the faith for both of them. "The king survived and he will lead us. We can still meet with the other armies and strike back at them just like in the stories of old you like to listen to," Syler replied. He had taken the news in stride. It was disheartening, but he had suspected that it would happen. Even the early reports had been grim but the fact that so many were conscripted spoke just how bad it was. He had gone into this knowing that and stayed because it was his duty. Havert huffed in amusement before responding, "Yea, but those were heroes who vanquished their enemies and saved the kingdom. We just a couple o' men from nowere who was conscripted." "Hey! You volunteered, remember?" Syler shot back. "Don't remind me," he moaned glumly. "Cheer up, we may not be destined for greatness, but at least we can help our king and do our part. After all, those heroes of old didn't save the kingdom on their own. I am sure they had plenty of conscripts fighting beside them." With a touch of excitement, Havert replied, "You are right! The great wizard Xaretines relied on the conscripted villagers from Praten ta scare the Koshi into thinking he had a whole company of battlemages with him. Even when the Koshi were forced to face him after getting all caught in a canyon and realizin' that they were all just conscripts, Xaretines was able to summon a spell that gave them supernatural strength and stamina to win the battle. They were outnumbered four to one and they let not a one o' their enemies escape." Syler let out a grunt of amusement. "You always were were such a fan of the old legends." "They ain't just legends, my young friend," Havert shot back. "They are our history. I am surprised ya didn't learn more about tem when ya was a boy. I could hardly wait each night for ma father to tell me my history lesson. He might not have liked me learning about the myths from Elder Rale, but he sure wanted me to know my people's history. Didn't your father teach ya about yar own history?" Syler frowned at the comment as well as the mention of his dead father. Havert might have been a year older than he was, but his friend's head sometimes swelled enough with pride to make him think he was one of the village elders, especially when telling stories was part of it. "My father told me some, but mostly he told me how to find materials in the hills so he could make potions and poultices to sell in the shop." "Yea, but that was during the day, didn't he tell you no stories at night?" pressed Havert. With a shrug, Syler said, "Not really. I wasn't really interested in those stories." "I must tell ya of these stories," Havert said as he put his arm over Syler's shoulders. "Now that we're marching to battle together, ya need ta know some of the great deeds our ancestors took part in. 'Sides, it ain't like you can go nowhere. Ya're stuck with me." Syler wasn't excited about the prospect as he was far more interested in hearing of what was happening now rather than stories of the distant past. Despite that, he knew that his easily excitable friend well enough to know that no matter what he said, he was going to hear those stories. "It isn't like we have anything else to do while we march," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Havert didn't need any more encouragement. As they marched along the dusty road, the redhead told stories of great warriors, clever mages, wizened wizards, crafty witches, and valiant youth and their great deeds done in the service of the Kingdom. He told tales of great battles and daring rescues, narrow escapes and brave sacrifices. Some of the other men around them listened in and even asked questions or for clarifications. If Syler was any judge, his friend would be an excellent replacement for old Elder Rale the village storyteller. While he was a kind old man and an expert on all of the village records, Rale was able to put the most energetic of children to sleep when he spoke at length. After a while, it all began to flow together and Syler could no longer keep the names, places, and events apart. Still, it was better than marching in silence and occasionally, one of the other men would add a tidbit here and there. When it was time to break camp and eat dinner on the third day of their eastward march, the men were able to get some news regarding a messenger that had ridden up to their column that afternoon. The Seinari company kept to themselves, but the other conscripts were quick to spread news and gossip. They were all from villages south of Sandrin and had joined up with the withdrawing Seinari just as they had. A few had seen the great battle at Kasas Sei and were not eager to fight in another one. Others were angry at leaving their homes undefended and were eager to join in battle so they could drive out the invaders. There were rumors of unspeakable crimes being committed by the invading Angvardi as well as conflicting stories of great generosity and mercy toward the conquered villages. Few could say for sure what was really happening and Syler dismissed most of the talk as idle gossip and conjecture. Sergeant Keil was quick to herd his men to bed with reminders of how early they would be getting up in the morning and of the long march and possible battle tomorrow. They had only been in their bedrolls under the sparkling stars for a few hours when it began. At first, only the sentinels on watch noticed the soft rumbles coming over the plains. Slowly, the noise grew in intensity until it woke some of the men. Within minutes, few were left asleep as the horizon began glow with flashes of light. Syler, always a light sleeper, woke before Havert did and surveyed the scene. Knowing his friend would want to see it, he kicked him gently to wake him. "Huh?" Havert mumbled, "What is it?" In a low, solemn voice, Syler pointed over to the horizon northeast of them. "Look, that is where we are headed." Havert rubbed his eyes to clear them and stood up to get a better look. "What is that? A storm?" Syler only wished it was. Despite his lack of interest in fanciful stories of old, he had some inkling of what was unfolding miles from them, and it was no natural act of the Elements. "You could say that, but it is far worse than any spring thunderstorm." Realization slowly dawned on the tired man's face and his jaw dropped a little. "Is that a battle?" he asked with incredulity. Syler, nodded without a further word. He was still sitting on his bedroll with a thoughtful look on his face as he contemplated what they were truly marching into. Havert didn't know whether to be excited or afraid. "Damn," he swore, "I can hardly believe it." It was difficult for them to believe. By now, the entire northern horizon looked like it was on fire. Though they couldn't see it, every man in that camp knew what was going on. It was a massive battle and the battlemages and wizards and conjurors and all sorts of magic wielders were dueling in the night. Massive fireballs were being hurled from one side as the other attempted to block them with their own magic even while firing off their own destructive spells. Lightening, fire, fierce winds, and spells of such magical power that they could strip the flesh off the bones of all within their range were being unleashed in great displays of terror as thousands or maybe tens of thousands of men were caught in between. Most would be countered by the other side's magic wielders, but even a single fireball that hit in the right spot could kill dozens of men. Syler felt sorry for those soldiers who were in the thick of it. Nobody there would be getting sleep tonight. He didn't know if their commanders would send them into direct battle at night or if they would spend their time worried that they would be consumed in the magical attacks of the enemy magic wielders. One thing was for sure though, he did not envy them. "We had best get to sleep," Syler said after a few minutes. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day." Though it was clear he wanted to continue to watch the battle, Havert replied, "Yea, you are probably right." They didn't even get to sleep before the bells began to ring out and officers began running through camp shouting for all to pack up. Apparently, sight of the battle had caused whoever was in command to decide they would march through the night so they could arrive in the morning to join the battle. The men appeared spooked enough at the sight of the battle that they didn't offer much in the way of objections to losing their night's sleep. The camp was mostly silent as the men prepared to march again, but the looks of trepidation and fear were loud and easily heard.

If a semicolon is meant to divide two sentences that are together, then you should look at the second part and try to imagine that as its own sentence. It has no subject or verbs and is not a sentence, so you need to do something different with it. Honestly, I would drop something there because the entire second part is too flowery and looks like you are trying too hard to be poetic or artsy. He clasped the wheel harder. You should have a comma after "no" in the first quote, then a period after "intently" right before the second quote. You also might want to remove the comma after "started" and add "while" in its place to read like this: "Yes and no," Zevran started while looking at Helena intently. "Some of the Crows . . . ." Missing a dash in that name. You need a quote at the beginning of that second paragraph since Helena is still talking. Your, not you're. A good solid piece that helps fill in some of your Warden's past and sets up the character. Just a note of caution here: you made a reference to Hawke seeing Helena as beautiful, be careful. Having Helena a lesbian (or at least, having been in a lesbian relationship with Leliana) is fine, but having both of them as lesbians is pushing the credibility line into "teenage boy fantasy" realm.

Hmm, regarding the armor, I am not so sure. Not that you brought it up, others will take note of it and hopefully give their opinions on the matter. If they feel the same, I will remove some of the details. Anyway, on to the next part. For anyone who read the first draft, this will be quite unfamiliar to them, and not just because of the amount of time that has passed since I posted the first chapter. For starters, I added a completely new section to the start as a way of sort of introducing the main character (Syler) and getting in some of his backstory. I also moved a few things around, added some more details, and removed a few pieces. At this point in the original, we were at 2,587 words. That is now 4,099 words. I know length is not always a good thing, but I felt the need to build a more solid foundation for meeting Syler. Originally, I didn't have his character down as well as I do so it wasn't possible to expound on things, but now I do. A note to all, if you see something repeated, PLEASE TELL ME. I go through these over and over, but sometimes I miss where I move things or decide to tell it in a different way at an earlier point. Fresh eyes and all that. Also, I am fully and completely aware that Havert has wretched grammar. Any grammatical errors in his speech are intentional. Another note on the dating system. Teladia has a 360 day year divided into 12 months of 30 days. Each month starts with a letter of the alphabet in sequential order starting at "a" and ends in either "-ial" or "-uer" in alternating order. To make it simple, the months generally correspond with our own and the year starts at about the same pace. For our Aussie friends, Teladia is slightly north of the planetary equator (which is why snow is in the north and the south has jungles and is generally wetter). That means that the first month, Alvial, corresponds to our January and would be in the middle of winter for Teladia. Below, you will notice that I state the date as being Gladisial 8th which is the equivalent of July 8, summer. I may have to backtrack that a month to fit the previously established timeline elsewhere since the onset of winter is key in the story itself, but we will cross that bridge when we get there and I do all of the math. For those who are curious, here is their months and their Earth equivalents: Alvial - January Belaquer - February Cendial - March Dolvuer - April Elmbial - May Falquer - June Gladisial - July Halgemuer - August Inpial - September Jalquer - October Kembrial - November Leltoneur - December EDIT: I have made some significant changes. Most are in red, but I don't remember all of them. The biggest change is that the Sei have been at war for the last two months, so instead of bringing news of war, Havert is bringing news of the conscription. I also pulled us back two months to May. ____________ Chapter 1 When we first heard the Angvardi had destroyed the Kuti, we rejoiced for we had not the foresight to comprehend that we would be next. —Magistrate Forten of the Sei Village of Sandrin Kingdom of the Sei Elmbial 8th, 1049 Second Age Syler Penion could barely hear the sound of the bells over the clinking of his hammer against the glowing hot iron. His hands faltered for a moment interrupting the steady rhythm of his work, but it didn't last long. With only a slight frown, he picked up where he had been working and continued to work the metal to his will. He had been working for hours on horseshoes for Merchant Telbin to restock his caravan before its journey south to Kasas Sei. Though it was a mundane task that lacked creativity or difficulty, it was what Master Fitno had charged him to do. Telbin would pay well if he could finish the task early and Fitno had said that if he was able to do that, he could keep the bonus for himself. The village of Sandrin wasn't always the most exciting place to live, but it was all he knew. For the last three years, he spent his days here in the forge working for Master Fitno in order to pay for the education in smithing, the meals, a tiny bit of coin, and the roof over his head that he received in exchange. His sister, Karusa, also lived with them and did what work she could to contribute, but in truth the only reason why Fitno allowed her to stay was because of Syler. It wasn't always this way. When he was younger and his parents had been alive, he used to roam free in the hills that surrounded the village looking for various herbs and roots. His father was an alchemist and the plants his son found for him enabled to create potions and tonics that could combat diseases, give energy to the weary, or help the old remember things. Rumor had it that Tarneis Penion was more than just a skilled mixer of herbs, but had a touch of magic and could create far more powerful potions, but his father had always denied such things and insisted that he was just wise in the ways of nature. As much as he might have wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, Syler had no skills in alchemy. No matter how many times he tried to teach him the correct methods for mixing and brewing potions, Syler could not do it. After a while, his father gave up on trying to teach him and instead relied on him to gather the needed ingredients so that he could spend more time in the shop brewing and selling. Three years ago, his father had grown sick with an ailment that none of his potions or tonics could alleviate. Despite all of his father's wisdom and experience treating the sick, he had been unable to help himself. All Syler and Karusa could do was to give him potions to take away his pain and watch him die. After his father had died, Syler was forced look for new work and that was extremely fortunate when Master Fitno approached him with an offer of apprenticeship. The blacksmith had been a friend of his father's and, since all of his own children had died in infancy years ago, he needed someone to help him in the forge. Fitno knew that Syler worked hard and had no problem getting his hands dirty and was willing to give him a chance in his forge. With nowhere else to go, Syler agreed to the offer. It was one of the best decisions of his life. While working with delicate and complex potions had been an anathema to him, Syler had a natural gift with working metal and cured leather. Working as a smith was much harder work than roaming the hills, but it gave him a way to make good, reliable money and learn a skill that would all but guarantee employment for the rest of his life. Now, the bells were ringing and that meant something was about to happen. Master Fitno grunted at the clamor of the bells and left the jerkin that he had been hammering studs into so he could go and see what it was about. Syler thought he knew what it was and the mere thought of it chilled his blood. There was nothing he could do about it, though. What would happen would come to pass whether he was up to date with the news or not. With that in mind, he elected to do the sensible thing and try to finish his work before the disruption occurred. He still had much to do and the sun was already high above the thatched roofs of the village. Any interruption likely meant that he wouldn't be able to finish early and get the bonus. The bells almost guaranteed that he would not get the extra money, money that he so desperately needed. As disappointing as that was, it didn't compare with the imperative to at least complete it on time. Master Fitno, and Syler along with him, prided himself on always completing orders as agreed, even if it meant working through the night. It was not long before a cheerful voice with a familiar drawl cried out over the sound of hammering. "Heya Syler! Did ya hear?" Syler finished the last few strokes needed to complete the horseshoe and set it in the water to cool. Only then did he answer, "Yes, Havert, I did hear the bells." Havert Jakaras was Syler's best friend and had been since their early childhood. He was taller than Syler was by a good two inches, but completely lacked the muscles that Syler had developed working as a blacksmith. In truth, Havert could be described only as a lanky, clean shaven man with a splattering of freckles and whose cheerful, friendly demeanor flew in the face of the stereotypes surrounding those with red hair. At twenty-three years old, Havert was just a year older than Syler himself, but nobody would ever be able to tell that by the way he acted. Syler had always been the more mature of the two and had accepted responsibility that Havert habitually shrugged off. While Syler worked from before the sun rose until long after it set, Havert drove his horse drawn cart as little as possible and often took long breaks in between shipments that his father gave him. He lived for a cup of ale and a story from Elder Rale. It didn't matter what type of story was told, Havert loved them all and would constantly regale them to any who would listen. "Syler, it's conscription!" said Havert with naked enthusiasm. Though his back was turned, Syler's eyes closed and his face sagged. It was as he feared. The war against the Angvardi had been going on for two months now and it was not looking good. It had all started eight months ago when the Kuti, a collection of mostly nomadic tribes to the east, had been invaded by the mighty Angvardi Empire. Many were happy that the barbaric raiders had been conquered because of all the times the Kuti had attacked and pillaged Sei towns, but some feared that that was only the beginning of a greater Angvardi march westward. It was not long before their fears were proven correct. The Angardi had invaded with multiple armies coming from multiple directions along their eastern and southern borders. The easterners had far more men than anyone had thought possible and it quickly became apparent that this was no raiding party or attempt to annex a few disputed towns. Rumors had gone out that, in their desperation, those in the capital had sent out requests for aid from the Jotolos in the south and the Kosh in the southwest, but they had received no reply. Nobody wanted to risk the ire of the East. There had been rumors of conscription since the start of the war, but it had not yet hit the smaller towns and villages. When Asperi Sei had fallen and the southern kingdom lost, it became clear that it was only a matter of time before the king's officers arrived with conscription orders. "So it is," Syler muttered as he turned to look at his friend. "And you think this is good news?" "Of course it is, we're gonna send those Easterners packin' and it will be a grand adventure that I daresay will be worthy of a story o' two." War was nothing new to the Sei. Tucked in between multiple often hostile kingdoms, the Sei had been fighting as often as they had been at peace. To answer the frequent need for men to supplement the regular army, the Sei had practiced conscription. Whenever men were needed, riders from the king came with a number. All of the able bodied men in the town would put their name in a giant bowl and the king's man would pull that number of names out. It was the king's man so that none within the town or village could be accused of prejudice or favoritism. Those whose names were called went to fight until the threat was ended after which they were paid meager wages and allowed to return home. "I hope you are right, Havert," Syler said, though he didn't think he would be. What little news he had heard from the front was not good. The Sei were being defeated at every turn. For them to initiate the conscription orders this far north for a conflict in the south spoke of the desperate need the military had for men. "What will you do if you are conscripted?" With a lopsided grin, Havert said, "Fight of course. People will be tellin' stories of this for years and I want to be in 'em." Syler couldn't help himself but to grin a little. "Yes, I think you are right, they will be talking about this." He just hoped that it was of their valiant victory against the odds and not of their horrific slaughter. "Just make sure that you come back so you can tell them yourself." "Ya worry too much. Plenty o' people go off to fight and come back just fine." Syler sighed. "Maybe you are right. I would not want to leave Karusa alone." Without his work, Master Fitno had little reason to allow her to stay in his house. If he went off to war and especially if he died in the fighting, he would turn her out and force her to find some other, less honorable, way to make a living. There were not many things a farmer's wife could do and there were few who wanted a widow who had already lost so many child bearing years. "Don't fret, I think this is our time for glory," the redhead said confidently. He completely missed Syler's concern in his own excitement. "I'll see ya in the town square for tha drawings!" Without skipping a beat, he ran off to continue to spread the word. Syler feared being selected. He didn't care about himself, but he did care about his sister's fate. A horrible vision of Karusa in some dark alley being picked up by a filthy, drunken man interested only in having his way with her for a few coppers gave him chills down his back. He dreaded that future, but what could he do if his name was called? Could he abandon his duties, his honor, and his kingdom and become an outlaw? Men who refused to serve after being conscripted were hanged when they were caught. It wouldn't do Karusa much good if he were to fight conscription because he couldn't stay here even if he wanted to. If he tried to take her with him in flight, they would hang her too for helping him. No, the life of an outlaw was no better for either of them. He couldn't just flee, not from this. If he did, how could he live with himself? How could his sister survive a life on the run? There was nothing else he could do—if he was called, he would have to do his duty and serve. Others were in similar plights and would do the same. Men who had wives and children would be serving even though it meant that their loved ones would be left behind and in danger. It would be reprehensible for him to skip out and force another man to serve in his place when others were risking far more than he. He would not shirk his duty by cowering behind his sister or even trying to claim a favorable status due to his skills. If he stayed behind at camp, another man who might have a wife and young children would have to go into the battle in his stead. That wouldn't be right any more than avoiding the conscription. "Syler Penion," the voice called out. It continued without pause, "Geran Farztois, Alen Klastor, Mathes Feral…" Throughout the square, cries of dismay, bravado, or anger could be heard as name after name was announced. The roll was long and the village was but a small one. Never before had so many men been called upon to offer their services. All of the men of proper age were required to be present in the square. Wives, parents, children, or other friends and family had joined them so that they too could find out if their loved one was going off to war. Each man reacted differently when his name was called. Some broke into tears, others clutched loved ones who were crying for them. A few swore and headed to a tavern for one last drink before the long march. A small number seemed to welcome the chance to escape the mundane routine of life, but they were not very common. Syler did not cry out either in excitement or fear, but merely nodded in somber acceptance. What was done was done, there was nothing he or anyone could do about it. It was his time, just as all the men who had been conscripted before him had theirs. His fate was in the hands of the Elements. His sister, on the other hand, was not so accepting. In a panicked and stressed whisper, she said, "It's okay, you can talk to them. Something can be done and you won't have to go." They stood in the village square with hundreds of others who were waiting to hear the lists. More than half of the village's men had been called this time, the largest conscription that any could remember, and the concern was palatable. When his name had been called, she grabbed him tightly and held him as though the Elements themselves would snatch him away. In a sad but determined voice, Syler replied, "No, Karusa. I will go and I will fight. It is my duty as a Sei." With wide eyes beginning to brim with tears, Karusa tried to persuade him otherwise. "But you are a blacksmith's apprentice! If you need to go with the men, surely you can remain back at camp to service the weapons and armor and not go out to fight!" He had already considered that and dismissed it even before coming to the village square. He would serve and fight just like the others and not shy away behind the guise of being needed elsewhere. Nobody would die for his sake. "I will not cower behind while the others fight. There are plenty of armorers and blacksmiths with greater skill than I possess, I will not be needed." "It is so dangerous, there are so many this time, these aren't just the Sua raiders, this is an entire army!" Karusa rambled on in her vain attempts to persuade her brother. With a set jaw and firm voice, Syler responded, "Then I will die trying to stop them. It is better to fight and die than to submit to enslavement without a struggle." "Let someone else who is more skilled fight, you are so young." "If everyone thinks that, we will have lost before the battle even begins. I am twenty-two years old and I am strong and of good health. I am exactly the sort of man who needs to fight. It is only by the grace of the Elements that I have not been summoned sooner, but they have chosen me now and I will go," Syler responded calmly in a low voice as he struggled to conceal how difficult this was for him. Seeing that her current line of attacks were not going to persuade him, she turned to another venue, one that played on his emotions and sense of responsibility. "Then who will look after me? How will I make a living? You are the only one who I have." For the first time, Syler hesitated, but not for long. "If we are overrun like the Kuti were, then I will not be able to watch over you anyway. I will be slain by the invading conquers or become a slave and be taken away." He took a deep breath and audibly exhaled before continuing. "Look at all these other men," he said with a wave of his hand to the others gathered. "They will be marching off to fight and will not be cowering behind their jobs or families. What of those women and children who watch as their husbands and fathers and sons go off to war? How can I look at any of them in the eyes again if I fight this conscription while the others accept their fates? I don't want to do this, but I have no choice. None of us do." Tears had already streaked their way down Karusa's cheeks as she the realization dawned on her that her protests were hopeless. At every conscription, she dreaded the idea of her brother going off to war and never returning. Death and loss were something she was all too familiar with. Syler placed his forehead against his sister's and prayed to the Elements for protection. Karusa wasn't wrong when she said he was the only one she had left. Ever since their mother had gone to be with the Elements twelve years ago, she had been all too aware of mortality and how easy it was to die. She had been twelve at the time, two years older than Syler, but when their mother died delivering their brother, it had caused her to age far beyond her years as she stepped up to try to fill her mother's place. Their brother had only outlived their mother by a few hours only further compounding the loss of those dark days. Despite the hardships of tending to her father and brother, Karusa survived and managed to live a normal life. When she turned twenty, Karusa had been married to a young man named Jarem and lived in his small farm outside the village. The two of them were in love and happy, but that was not to last for long. A year after that, their father died bringing back the sense of loss that took her months to recover from. A mere year later, while plowing their fields, Jarem tripped and landed on an upturned root that was just long enough to nick his liver. He died in extreme agony two days later just an hour before a mage arrived from See Sei to heal him. Losing her husband had utterly devastated her, especially since they did not have any children. Jarem's uncle forcefully took over the farm and paid her only a fraction of what it was worth before throwing her out. With nowhere else to go and little money to her name, Syler had managed to convince Fitno to take her in as well. She helped Fitno's wife with sewing, tending the garden, and whatever else was needed. It was a hard life with little true joy, but Fitno and his wife were kind people who had accepted them as their own since they could have no children of their own. The reading of the names had stopped and it was now time for the selected men to meet at the front so they could be assembled into the company. Syler wrapped his arms around his sister in a tight embrace. "Karusa, my sister," Syler whispered next to her ear, "I must go. Know that whatever happens, I love you and will fight to return as soon as I can." He kissed Karusa's forehead and, with one last look, left her to begin his way to the front with the other men who had been conscripted. She stood there in among the other women, elderly, and children with tears streaming down her face begging him not to go. Every step he took away from her tore at his heart, but he resolved himself to what must be done and continued anyway. As he left his older sister weeping in the crowd, Syler's cheek dampened from tears of his own. He didn't want to hurt her like this, but it was his duty to the village and the kingdom. He had been chosen and so he would go like the dozens of others this day and the thousands around the kingdom. He wouldn't let her see the fear that caused his heart to race, or the sorrow he had at having to leave her here alone. He was a young man, strong and hardy from three years as a blacksmith's apprentice. He might not have ever been called to war, but like all men of the village, he had practiced and trained like the rest of them. They were not as well trained or armed as the Seinari, the professional standing army of the Kingdom of the Sei, but they and other conscript units from other villages and towns formed the bulk of the kingdom's defenses. They had succeeded in maintaining their sovereignty and defending the king for centuries. A strong arm grabbed Syler's shoulder as he walked through the crowd. He turned around to see the burly figure of Master Fitno looking at him with sympathy. "Don't worry my boy, I will do my best to watch over Miss Karusa. She will have a place with us for as long as she needs it, no matter what befalls you while away. She is welcome as long as she needs it." That news helped lift a burden gripping the young man's heart. It was as though he had seen his first glimpse of sunlight after a long and terrible storm. With his worries over Karusa's future lifted, he would be able to march into battle with far more confidence and with less concern weighing him down and distracting him. Fitno was a good man and Syler was ferociously grateful to him for this. If he came back from the war, he would have to find some way to properly thank the blacksmith. "Thank you, sir," he managed to choke out. "May the Elements guide you and set your path through low hills," said Fitno giving a common blessing for those about to depart. He grabbed Syler's hand and gave it a firm shake before releasing him. It took some time for all of the men to say their goodbyes and disentangle themselves from their families. Seventy men had been chosen that night to join the others in reinforcing those already in the field. Hardly a cheek was dry as they formed into ranks and marched to the small village armory while some of the older men of the village remained in the square to prevent the others from following and delaying the conscripts. When they arrived at the armory, they were given weapons and armor according to their individual skills or experience. Since he had not been to war or experienced battle, Syler was not one of the few who were given a sword and scaled armor. Instead, he was given simple mail armor with brown boiled leather on top and a light, visorless leather half helm like all of those who were not heavily experienced. Because he was adept at striking with swings due to his time in the smithy, he was one of the few who was given an axe and an oak shield, the rest received spears and boiled leather shields. In practice sessions, he was renowned for the strength of his swings that could hew the clustered grass target stacks in a single blow and occasionally even crack solid rock. Sometimes, he was able to practice with a sword, but there were too few of them here for all to receive them, so only those who had actual experience were issued them. "Hey there Syler!" Havert called out. Syler blinked twice at hearing his voice because he had not heard his name being called out. "Havert, so you were conscripted too, I see," he replied. He was now glad that he had been conscripted because now he could watch over his friend. "Naw," the other replied, "I volunteered. Couldn't let Mr. Castrin leave his four little ones alone, could I? Besides, someone has to watch out for you." Syler was surprised at that news. He wasn't entirely sure if Havert wanted to help or if he wanted the action. The redhead had sulked for days at not being conscripted last year to fend off a small Sua raiding party but was not brave enough to actually volunteer. Though he worked the carts as a man in his own right, he still had to watch out for his ailing parents who relied heavily on the wages he brought back. "What about your pa?" Havert shook his head and shrugged. "Nothin' I can do about it. We are all in some serious trouble. If I don't go now, I would ha been left here to be captured when they invade. Pa can live with that, or maybe we will all die and he won't." With an arched eyebrow, Syler replied, "What happened to the glorious stories that would be told of our victory?" Havert plastered a grin on his face, but his eyes didn't quite agree with his mouth. "There were so many people called, I ain't never seen so many before." "We don't have the numbers to win," Syler said. A fellow conscript, a man in his late thirties, grunted and interrupted them. "Of course we do, lad. Numbers don't win wars, strength, courage, and faith do. The Elements haven't let the Sei fall yet, these Angvardi weaklings won't be the ones to do it." "But rumors have it that they have a hundred thousand men marching on Kasas Sei," Syler replied. He might not have much time to spend in the taverns, but he wasn't deaf. "Maybe, but they are far from their supply lines and in strange lands," the man said before spitting on the ground in disgust. "Those Easterners are too used to nice green pastures and tall forests, they won't like it here where men have to actually be strong to survive. They got the jump on us, that's all. We will beat them back, mark my words. It may take a few battles, but we will. The Seinari will prevail with the help of the Elements." "I don't know," said Syler with doubt in his voice. "That is a lot of men, they wouldn't have conscripted so many of us if it weren't something bad." With a snort, the man waved his hand in dismissal and left the two of them to get his own gear. "Yea," Havert said to Syler, "but where the odds are against us, there's greater glory. No matter what, we Sei are goin' ta give those Easterners a good fight." He would find no argument in Syler or probably most of these men. Syler might not relish the thought of going to war, but he wouldn't stand by and do nothing when the arrows were flying and the swords clashing. The Sei were a prideful people who did not like to bow to anyone. They prided themselves as the most advanced and powerful of the Western kingdoms and were constantly fighting off incursions and raiding parties from the Kut, Sua, Jotolos, and Kosh that surrounded them. They didn't have long to catch up, though. Sergeant Keil, their commanding officer and a veteran of four campaigns, drove them to begin marching as rapidly as possible. He didn't want to risk desertions and was eager to connect with other companies and get into the battle. As they marched through the town, the women and men being left behind gave food for the road and charms or blessings for protection. Along the way, Syler was able to see Karusa one last time as she handed him bread and strips of dried meat. She had tears in her eyes, but was able to tell him she loved him before he was forced to continue onward. After stopping at the stream on the edge of town to fill their water skins, all seventy of the men began the long march southeast to Kasas Sei, their capital and rallying point. The city was a hundred and fifty miles away, but they would not be able to travel in a straight line so for them, it would be well over a hundred and seventy-five mile march and they would have to cross the Lower Mastar River. If things went well and the weather held out, they would arrive in a week and a half and that would only be the beginning of their journey.

Wow, Sasori. That is far, far more than I expected by way of feedback. It is excellent stuff, honestly. I think that when you reread it and see the changes, you will find that I genuinely do listen to feedback and work with those who give it. As you are new to the scene here, I will say that in most instances, I am highly open to changes based on what people suggest. There are a few times when I won't change things, but the only reasons why I wouldn't do that is because I either really like how it was set up or because I know of how that will affect the future and need it to be the way it was. Your suggestions have spawned new ideas and I have implemented a few changes that should have been obvious to me from the start. Alas, sometimes it takes a fresh set of eyes before I can see something. Forest for the trees type of thing. I have gone through and reworked that section a little. I don't know why I didn't think of it before, but I have taken this opportunity to insert the crest of the Angvardi Empire into the story. I had planned on working that in later, but this is just as good a time as any. As for the armor itself, yes, it does have its place and purpose. Plate armor is rare and expensive and bespeaks of how elite these men are. It also tells of how these men fight (heavy armor, less movement, more strength, no stealth). I have gone through and emphasized that a little more throughout this Prologue. Later chapters will and do describe the armor of various people and how their armor affects how they fight. It will become particularly important when the Easterners are fighting various other nations. Indeed and it has been changed. Not completely sure on that, but I will take your word on it and have changed it. I agree, and upon reflection, I have decided to hint at something that will become a major focal point of tension in the southern kingdom that will occupy much of a major character's time. I have also redone the slaughter part slightly. You may like that more as it fits in the willing victim category you mentioned. Thank you very much for the feedback and I really, really do hope you can keep with it. Even if not everything is as detailed as what you did here, it will be very valuable to me.

And now, the prologue. Not much changed here, just a few little things. This takes place 620 years before the rest of the novel. _____________________ Prologue Prophecy is both a gift and a curse. It can gift a man with insight into the future that can benefit all of mankind, but it can also curse him with knowledge that others will kill to obtain or to silence. —Terrand of Malorez, Master Prophet Goteip Malorez Province Angvardi Empire 429, Second Age The sound of iron shod hooves clanged against cobblestones as three dozen men rode hard toward a drab monastery nestled in a small grove of trees miles down the road. The men ignored the cold winter wind that bit at their cheeks and the looming darkness from the shortened days. They knew the way to their destination well and the simple road guided them even in the dim light. All of these men were dressed in expensive heavy plate armor with mail beneath and carried spears in their hand and a sword on their belt. Each wore the crest of their emperor upon their chest plate. The silver mountain and the four golden stars above it seemed to glow faintly on the field of red with its gold trim. The leader had no spear, but instead carried a standard with the same crest that fluttered behind him as they rode. Their horses had armor of their own that was a combination of small plates on the head and chest and polished black leather on the flanks. Their destination seemed a mockery of their dress and manner. There were no bright colors or fancy standards to be seen, only a line of laundry drying to the side. The monastery was already lit with torches and a large lamp at the highest bell tower, but the light showed only the dull brown and tan surfaces made from stone. A few cloaked figures milled around carrying out various tasks or simply meditating before evening prayer. The monastery itself was not impressive to the eyes, either. Its highest point, the lit bell tower, was only twelve feet above the horizon and the rest of the buildings were simple structures mostly meant to house those who lived inside. There was a perimeter fence, but it was designed to keep the chickens in rather than as a defensive barrier. As soon as the riders approached, the heads of the cloaked figures rose to see who was arriving in such haste. By the time the riders came to the front door, a dozen of the inhabitants had assembled outside. One stepped forward and took in the score of men who were glaring down at him from atop their mounts. These were the best soldiers in the Empire and answered only to the emperor or his empress. The monk kept his chin up and said with a strong but non-hostile voice, "You are not permitted upon these grounds." The leader of the riders handed the standard to another rider and dismounted. He took two steps forward and replied, "By the authority of the Emperor, I command you to bring forth Master Prophet Terrand." The cloaked man who had first spoken stood firm. "This monastery is under the authority of the Way. Not even the Emperor himself can command the gods. Your commands hold no weight here." The officer set his jaw and said in a harsh voice, "They do tonight. Stand aside, acolyte, or we will cut you down where you stand." With a glance to his brothers on either side, the cloaked man freed his hands from within his cloak to show they were empty. He knew that his next words would be his last, but there was no other option. He answered to a higher power than these men and the will of that higher power dictated a different path. With resolute sadness weighing down his voice, he said for the last time, "You are not permitted on these grounds." True to his word, the officer pulled out his sword and ran the acolyte through. His men sprang into action and either threw their spears or dismounted in complete silence. Before their feet touched the ground, eight of the acolytes were dead with wooden shafts sticking out of their chests. Despite the suddenness of the carnage, the remaining three men did not flee or cry out in terror. Each had known where their actions would lead them and each accepted their fate willingly. The dozen men who had gone out to meet the riders fell in seconds, their blood staining the cobblestone road or repainting the walls behind them. The riders had all dismounted and spread out into the monastery leaving four of their number to watch the horses. There were no cries of pain or fear from the squat buildings even as its inhabitants were slaughtered. Each cloaked man stood their ground and accepted their fate without any signs of cowardice or hesitation. The riders did not scream out in the heat of the moment or mock those they slaughtered, they just carried out their grim task in silence. In minutes, only one inhabitant of the monastery remained alive. He stood calmly in the central courtyard with his eyes closed in meditation while his brethren were slaughtered around him. The man was of middle age, clean shaven, and wore a simple dark blue robe that differentiated himself from the others. The riders killed all else, but none touched him until the massacre was complete. When all was done, the leader of the riders stepped into the courtyard carrying a torch taken from the monastery. "Prophet Terrand, you are commanded by Emperor Caterin of Angvard to return to Angvard and to reveal to him your latest prophecy in its entirety, omitting nothing. The penalty for not doing this is the most painful death and the destruction of your Order." Terrand looked at the seasoned warrior in front of him and took note of the blood dripping from his sword and armor. He did not shrink back as the man approached, but stood tall with a calm, almost serene expression on his face. "You are a most interesting man, Captain Wasitpan," he said in a melodic voice. "Your fate is known to me, and it is not one you expect. Your death will be long in coming, but you will wish for it to come far sooner. Do you wish to know the manner in which you will die?" Captain Wasitpan growled and slapped the prophet across the face with his gauntleted hand. "I will not hear of your lies!" he spat out. From the ground, Terrand's looked up at the warrior, but made no effort to get back up. "Very well, young Captain Wasitpan, your fate shall remain known only to me." He paused and looked upward to the twilight sky. "The prophecy your master wishes is a complex one indeed, dependent on many factors all falling into place. Should any of those factors not come true, all shall collapse in on itself into meaningless." He raised a single finger. "But should the Immortal forces of good and evil properly conspire to bring forth the needed factors, the world itself will quake in fear and hope." With a small chuckle—the first emotion the man had displayed during the entire massacre—he continued, "A time will come when One will come into being that will change the world. He will command armies mightier than any Teladia has seen before and all will answer to him, for good or ill, wherever he goes. He will unite the lands in true harmony and rule over them all. "Beware, dear captain, for he shall be known by the following. War will not be his choice, but it will dominate his life. He will despise fighting, but will embrace it eagerly. He will be a leader of men but will not seek to lead. He will give up that which he holds most dear, but will gain that which is necessary in exchange. He will fall before he rises. He will have no children, but all will call him father. He will be a stranger in many lands, but be welcomed in them. He will be strong and fierce against those who oppose him, but gentle and kind to those who join him. When he is needed, he will arise to carry out his purpose of saving us all from the Coming Darkness. All will bow before his strength, for he will be the one who masters magic." The captain was not satisfied and kicked the prophet with his steel boot. "We know this to be true, it has been spoken of by others for centuries. What has not been confirmed is who this man is or where is he from. You alone have seen this and that is what the emperor demands!" "My poor captain, I would not tell you that for all the wealth in the world," Terrand said with another chuckle. "Not all prophecy is meant for all ears. Your emperor will never know my prophecy, neither will his heirs for generations on end. Not until it is too late will his line know that their end is at hand." Wasitpan kicked the man again and replied with a confident sneer, "We will see about that. A few weeks in the torture chambers will loosen your lips." Again, he was greeted with a chuckle, this one a little louder. "No, for you forget that I am a prophet, one gifted by the gods themselves with their wisdom and foresight. I have known this day would come for years. Indeed, my time here is done, but you shall not lay another finger upon me." Intending to disprove the prophet's claims, the captain reached down for the bruised man. Before he could reach him, a strange sound like the popping of a large bubble erupted from the intended victim. Wasitpan was thrown back across the courtyard. His torch was blown out from a mighty rushing wind that caused the worn robes on the laundry line to flap violently. The light from the torch was no longer needed, though, because Prophet Terrand was consumed in flames that lit the entire monastery like a bonfire. Wasitpan's men shielded their eyes from both the wind and the sudden light, but they could not shield their ears from the sound of the prophet's laughter as his own body was consumed by the fire. After a handful of seconds, the wind, fire, and laughter died out leaving nothing but the whisper of the wind where the prophet once was.

The world is coming to an end. Prophecies have foretold the Coming Darkness for thousands of years, and the signs have converged and it is nigh. War is upon Teladia in both the mortal and immortal realms. There is only one hope for humanity and that lies with the one who can master magic and bend it to his will. Nations, religions, and individuals all seek to control his destiny end up on top, but ultimately, only he will have the fate of the world in his hands. The question is: will he save the world or will he destroy it? Title: The Master of Magic (series title): The One Who Masters Magic Rating: PG-13 (possibly upgraded to R) Rated for: violence, language, sexuality Critique level: Critique Requested This is a rewrite of my now fully grown novel. The original draft may be found here. For first time readers, I leave it up to you whether you want to cheat and get ahead of yourself, just beware that there will be some significant changes between the two. For my two loyal readers (Brendo and Amidala), I will attempt to notify you on the changes as I post. As there are definitely spoilers that can be found by checking out the original draft, I would urge anyone who reads ahead to use spoilers. I am likely to explain the reasoning for some of my changes and will also probably point out some of my hidden clues and buildups for things that happen later on. I want to point out some of those things to see if they need to be made more or less obvious. With that out of the way, a bit about the novel and the series. I have (at this point) just shy of 240,000 words written. As most trade paperback novels are somewhere around 400 words, that means that I have about 600 pages written (and that is just the first draft of the first novel). I intend on writing AT LEAST 6, though it may go to 9 if things go well. After the first two or three are written and given two or more drafts, I intend on seeking publication. I hope to make at least a little bit of money from these books and get support for writing the rest of the series. Note: it is entirely possible that, at some point or time, that I will have to have a further split to reduce size (publishers frequently do not like publishing large books from new authors because of the cost). There is a point that I can see as being the logical breaking point even within this novel, so just have that in mind. The novel is set on a continent called Teladia. There is a map to it, found here. I strongly, strongly urge anyone who is reading the novel to use the map as it will help make things SO much clearer. Before each section, I list the city or town, the province (if applicable), and the nation, all of that to help clarify and give you at least some clue where things are taking place so you don't have to dig through the hundreds of names on the map. Teladia is divided into three major portions, each divided by mountains or other landmarks. The East is the most advanced and arguably, the most powerful. It is dominated by two kingdoms: the Angvardi Empire in the north and the Kingdom of Terula in the south. For over a thousand years, the two have fought as bitter rivals until recently when the Empress of Angvard and King of Terula fell in love and married. United by faith in the Tetrarchy, a collection of four gods, they have sent forth their armies to dominate the rest of the world and bring it under the faith of the Way of the Four under the belief that only by being part of Unity can humanity hope to stand up to evil in the Coming Darkness. In the middle of Teladia is the West, a land of rolling hills, prairies, and desolate deserts. The West is divided among no fewer than 16 different kingdoms and tribal groups. While less advanced and organized than the East, there is still great power to be found in the northern Subeleth Woods where the Krue ride about on their mighty hasuan. These smaller kingdoms have long been safe from the aggression of their eastern neighbors by the constant feuds that kept Angvard and Terula busy. Now, that balance is broken and at the start of the series, most of the West has fallen to either the Terulans or the Angvardi. The last part of Teladia is the Deep West. These lands are more isolated and distant than the other two and thus are very different. In the north, barbaric tribes roam the frozen wastelands while in the south, marshes and swamps stretch for hundreds of miles. In the middle is a mixture of fertile greenlands and semi-arid flatlands. The Deep West is dominated by the massive Konenian Dominion, a strange and brutal land whose emperor has mysterious motives. Syler, the central protagonist of the novels, is a blacksmith's apprentice from the village of Sandrin in the Kingdom of the Sei located in north central part of the West. The vast army of Angvard has swallowed up several of their neighbors and has now set its eyes on his homeland. The call has gone out and he must go off to fight, but when he does, he will find that his journey is not what he first thought it to be...

As there is no moderator for this forum, Brendo, if you would be so kind as to move this to the completed stories forum, that would be awesome. We can still comment here and I will be more than willing to answer any questions pertaining to the recent chapters, but this is technically a completed story.

You have touched on some of what I am hoping you would see: the reaction. My intent was never to give Havert a glorious, drawn out death because that isn't how it happens more often than not. Someone just walked up to him and stabbed him in the gut. Nothing glorious, nothing honorable, nothing truly remarkable about that or how he died. What is worthy of note is how his death changes things. Quite possibly. I have a chunk of the next chapter written already, but I am not going to post it without completing it. I very well may finish that chapter, but I am hesitant to do so because then I may feel the need to continue and then I may never get to the rewrite. However, as a courtesy to you two who have read so far, I will provide a basic summary of what is planned for the next couple of chapters. It will be in spoilers in case you (or someone else) doesn't want to read it.

Yes, he is dead. While you are right in that a stab wound like that wouldn't be immediately fatal, all the magic in the world wouldn't save him if nobody knew he was bleeding out until after he was dead. After all, she jammed that in through his stomach and up under his rib cage. That is a pretty difficult thing to recover from, even with magic. And, one of the inviolate rules of this universe (even to Syler and the Immortals) is that once someone is dead, they are dead. Their body can be brought back to life (necromancy) but it is not them. Never again can someone who has died retake corporal form. That doesn't preclude some methods of communication (channeling), but they won't be coming back. I hate most stories where people can die then just happen to be able to come back. Well, while it is sudden and seemingly random, it will be the focus of the story for at least two more chapters, possibly three and the repercussions of it will carry on for a good chunk of the next book. I will definitely put more into the poor guy as I do the rewrite, because he is intended on being one of the major characters. I know I put more focus on Syler, Lamastus, and Vekla (all major characters), but it was supposed to be the "Big Five" of Syler, Vekla, Lamastus, Bronwyn, and Havert. As this is now going to be the start of a new book, I may spend a tiny bit more time building up Havert, but I need to wait until I get there before I can figure that out. Again, that is an interesting interpretation of the material. Out of curiosity, what makes you think Karusa is the Traitor of prophecy? I would like to hear your thought process on this so I can see if readers are really getting what I am trying to portray. In short, prove to me that she is the Traitor using whatever methods (other than my OOC discussions) you can think of. Yes, and that is the point. Death is random, it can happen anywhere, and it can happen at any time. Believe me, as I mentioned, this little bit here was hardly all that it is "dealt with" because the repercussions of that event send out ripples for quite some time. Characters (namely Alltis) will be forever changed and there will be retaliation.

Having read all but A Dance With Dragons, I can agree (and no, all the character deaths there did not give me the idea for this or what happens next). Regarding the first phrase, I am going to be redoing this, would you possibly be willing/interested in following the rewrite as it is posted chapter by chapter? I am interested in as many opinions and need as many sets of eyes as possible and you are fairly well versed in literature and storyplays from what I have seen. My hope was that it was a sort of an "out of left field" moment, a surprise that wasn't foreshadowed or set up (because that is how it hit Havert and the others). Interesting. Most emphatically definitely yes. In fact, I have been writing it as I go along both for the future and for my own use to keep things set up. Where was Karusa? Standing right in front of him. Did Havert look at her, did he say anything? I am going to change that to say "eyes wide from shock" after seeing that I used "with" twice so closely together. Did she say anything? Did she stay and just look at him or leave? Well, she didn't do an quick stab-and-run because Havert was looking at her after she stabbed her. As for what she did afterward, that is explained in the next chapter (already written, not published just yet). To answer it, she stood there holding the bloody knife in a complete daze, at least until Syler touched her and things got interesting. Are you saying that I should attempt to put in more? I really wanted to make this a kinda sudden thing and am dealing with everyone's reactions in the next few chapters. It wasn't logical, it was supposed to be a surprise. As for imagery, I did attempt to put some of that in there. First, I had her say "I will be fine, Havert" which will foreshadow something in the future and I had the Betrayer's Kiss (from Judas to Jesus as he betrayed Him). Did you read the part? If not, I urge you to at least read a bit of it so you can possibly give me some suggestions. I realize that you don't know any of the characters or backstory, but it would be nice. This is one of those things that I want to get right or at least as right as it can be.

Those errors will be fixed. I am surprised at such a bland reaction toward me killing off Havert. Is it because you didn't think he was actually dead or simply that you didn't connect with the character? Also, a major announcement. After tremendous consideration and a thorough going through of the situation I find myself in, I have decided that I have simply too much material. When I started this novel, I found that I had more than I intended and had to reshape how things were regarding where I would cut off the novels. Now, I find that I am once again in that situation. Therefore, I am announcing the completion of the first draft of the first novel. I am going to shift things once more and end the first novel with the aftermath of the Battle of Thattos and Raella's confrontation of the High Priests (Chapter 38). I had intended on using that as a midpoint to the novel and end with the first major battle that resulted of the massed armies of Terula and Angvard invading Krue territory, but I just can't do it. There are too many things that I need and want to do before that major battle to put in without making this novel a monstrosity, so it will have to be the end of Book 2. Obviously, I am going to redo a bit of the aftermath to give it an appropriate ending, but that shouldn't be too hard. Here are some changes that I plan on making. 1. Further detail into the environment and descriptions of the characters themselves (at least, the major ones). As time has gone by, the various locations have developed into more solid ideas and concepts so where I once just had a city, I now have a history, building style, type of citizens who live there, and many other details. Places and people have a life of their own and I feel it necessary to go back and bring it out. I had always planned on doing this, but now I will begin in earnest. 2. Fleshing out of characters. Most of the novel was centered on Syler and those with him. That is how it should be because he is the central figure. However, I have long been wanting to give a lot more attention to some other key characters such as Uthas (a critically important antagonist), Aitin (the wayward prophet), Raella (whose importance will soon be second to only Syler and Uthas), Amberis (and his anti-Rael plots in Terula), and Valnic (and his anti-Imperial plots in east Angvard). Most of those characters get just little blurbs and pieces of chapters detailing what is going on with them, but I want them to have more. I want there to be a connection with them (for good or ill) and a better explanation for their motives and goals. I will be taking some of their little pieces and turning them into full chapters and giving them minor characters and development of their own. To do that would require potentially 25,000-30,000 more words and is a major reason why I am cutting the novel off now. 3. A lot has changed with the addition of the new map. Locations are different, distances are different, and whole new kingdoms have been introduced. I will need to go through a lot of stuff to properly fix everything and that is something I planned on doing in the second draft. 4. The title and name of the book and series will be changing slightly. Originally, I wanted to have a trilogy (I am now thinking six to nine books) and to name them "One Who Masters Magic" (referring to Syler), "Two Who Conquer Kingdoms" (referring to ), and "Three Who Destroy Gods" (referring to ). The first novel was focusing on the rise of the One (Syler) and the initial struggle against the Angvardi/Terulan forces. The second was to focus on the , and the third was to focus on the . Now, things will have to change as they are shifted back, so I will likely change the titles and the series title. Right now, I am leaning toward calling the series "The Master of Magic" but I am not set. I am not sure how I want to name the first novel, either, but I will ponder it. What to expect in the next few months is a reposting of all the chapters up to Chapter 38. As I go through and edit and rewrite and rework things, I will be going through all of the comments and feedback and making the changes I feel need to be made. All of those times when I said "I will keep that in mind" will be honored. I expect significant changes in the beginning, but more additions toward the middle and end. I will post them by the chapter (instead of half chapters) as I finish going over them. As I am not totally writing everything, I hope that the second draft will be quicker and easier to do. For those (two) who have been keeping up with the novel faithfully, I will make an attempt to describe the changes at the beginning of each chapter, but it would be too difficult to chronicle every little change. I will be making a new topic for this, so I hope that I can pick up a few more people who are willing to follow a rewrite piece by piece rather than tackle a huge wall of text at once.

I only mentioned them sparring once. Even if they did spar multiple times in the past, sometimes, it takes a little bit to get the feel for someone. I did mention that after their last bout, he studied her more carefully and could have gleaned this information during then. Very true, but not in the way you may be thinking. If you haven't noticed, the more "realistic" and "gritty" and "borderline" novels are these days, the more likely they are to garner attention. While I don't want to be one to just jump on the sex bandwagon, even I have to admit that sex is a part of life. What I wrote and intend to write in the future wasn't meant to be erotic to the readers, it was simply to convey what happened. It will be an interesting balance to see how far it goes. I don't intend to take it any more descriptive than that, but I may or may not include more of the same. If a lot of readers don't like it, then I will not have a problem making it less specific and more general, but for now, I am going to keep it. Trust in the author to explain all. Soon. This was an interesting part to write because it gives Havert some much needed spotlighting. I included a bit of history and hinted at a few things from the past. All good and fun since I am a historian by education and love such stuff. You never know, maybe one day I will produce a small collection of short stories about some of these heroes. __________________ Havert was locked in a bitter debate and was loving every minute of it. The lanky young man was surrounded by a small audience of Kruish storytellers who were all jabbering in their tongue in response to his own words. The two women in the room who were able to translate were quickly overwhelmed and were frequently forced to scold the storytellers for being impatient or too loud. The most recent subject of debate was regarding Maltath the Single-Handed, a figure that featured in both Sei and Kuti folklore. Havert, being the closest thing to an expert on the Sei side, firmly insisted that Maltath was a Sei warrior had led a vast Seinari host to victory against the combined forces of the Gope, Jotol, and ancient Yaitili. He, and the two other Sei with him, said that the Kuti forces had just numbered a few hundred glory seeking warriors who had joined the Seinari for the fame. The Krue and Kuti storytellers took offense to that and declared that it was the other way around and that Maltath was a Kuti warrior who had rallied his own disparate clansmen and persuaded the Sei to make common cause against the marauders from the south. As proof, they pointed out that Maltath was a moderately common name among the Kuti, but Havert countered that by saying that there was a massive shrine built to the one handed warrior in Kasas Sei and that he had personally seen a central square named after him in See Sei. The debate wore on for two and a half hours with both sides throwing out accusations and proofs for their own side. Havert knew that neither would ever budge from their convictions that Maltath was a hero of their own making, but he didn't care. For him, it was enough to just engage in the discussion of his favorite pass time. He loved to think back to the days when he would sit at the feet of Elder Rale as a child and listen to the stories of ancient heroes and glorious battles. That was before he had to work as a wagon delivery boy. Now, though, he wasn't just allowed to tell and collect stories, but it was his job to do so. Syler wanted an exchange of culture and he was in charge of overseeing it all. The debates were just one part of his new life that that he loved. The other big part of it was sitting next to him. Alltis, despite the swell of her stomach, was caught in the middle as one of the translators. She had never been a woman who enjoyed conflict and was not enjoying herself nearly as much as her husband. He didn't think she would even be in the room if it weren't for the fact that this was one of the few times during the day that they were able to justify being together. With all the work and preparations that everyone was doing, both would feel guilty if they weren't contributing in whatever way they could. While he was fully capable of fighting and was in fact a blooded warrior, Havert no longer fancied fighting. Fazei and the escape from the Kubei Temple had gone a long way towards curing him of his desire for glory on the battlefield. The Battle of Thattos and the resulting carnage had finished the job. He was more than content to never see another battle again. That left him with just his experience as a wagon driver and as a storyteller. Anyone could drive a wagon, but only a few here knew as much as he did about the old legends and histories. Well, at least, that is what he told people. In truth, he was just one of the few people who cared about them, at least from among the Sei. The Krue and Kuti had plenty of storytellers. When it seemed that Alltis was about to explode, Havert raised his hands up and said, "Okay, I think it is time for us to be gettin' along now. It was a great argument, but we have other t'ings to be doin' 'sides sittin' here arguin'. We can talk tomorrow if ya like." Some of the others were about to argue, but Havert was in charge and his word was to be followed in these matters. They filed out one by one until it was just himself and Alltis in the study. "Well, love, that was certainly…lively," she said with a long sigh. "Yea, it were. Them Kruish folk are just too stubborn to admit they were wrong." Alltis swatted him on the shoulder. "And how do you know that you aren't wrong?" He gave her a sideways glance and said suspiciously, "Ya don't believe them, do ya? They clearly don't know what tha're talkin' about. There are records of Maltath in many Sei stories and all say he was a Sei." "There are just as many stories in my culture that say he is Kuti," she replied as she used the arms of her chair to help her stand up. "Yea, but ours are backed up by more t'an just words. We have statues and buildings named after him." Alltis chuckled at him. "Enough arguing, my love, we will never come to an agreement, but isn't that what you love about storytelling?" Havert nodded, "I can't argue against that. It is a bunch o' fun, even if all of ya are wrong." "Okay, Havert," she said with mock scorn. She shook her head in disbelief at his stubbornness, but couldn't keep the smile off of her face. "It is time for me to get back to the longhouse to help oversee the latest bunch of arrivals. Word has it that two hundred more will be arriving in today's convoy and I am sure to be busy." Havert stood up to offer escort, but she waved him off. "I am pregnant, not lame. I can manage to get there on my own. You go ahead and stay here and tend to whatever work you need to do. After such a debate, I am sure you have plenty to ponder over." He smiled and said, "That I do, dear." He did walk with her to the door and saw her out with a kiss. When she was safely on her way, he turned back to the study to see if he could come up with a topic for discussion this evening. He had found that if he didn't prepare at least something to talk about at each meeting of the storytellers, the entire gathering would devolve into a disorganized verbal melee that resulted in no progress or learning. Though he wasn't completely literate, he did know his letters and basic words. He could also read names by sounding them out aloud and trying to recall if he heard anything that was familiar from the verbal stories he had collected over his twenty-two years of living. It was an arduous process, but he still loved going through the library that countless lords of Thwrud had collected. Most of it was in Kruish, but there were some volumes in the Common Tongue. He found one particular book bound in old graying leather that caught his eye. The title on the spine was too faded to read completely, but he did catch the name "Laggo the Unconquered" in black lettering and pulled it out. The front cover was in better condition and he was able to read the full title, The Life and Glories of the Great Laggo the Unconquered. He went over to a small desk and set the book down to begin studying it as best as he could. Havert had only heard the name briefly mentioned in conjunction with the tale of King Sylas of Asperi, the warrior king who had risen from nothing to lead the Sei in the defense of the southern parts of the kingdom two hundred years ago. At that time, most of the southern kingdom had been occupied by the Kosh and his city was under siege. Sylas' strength had been such that nobody could stand against him on the battlefield. Through his many victories, he not only managed to defend his home city, but took the fight to the Kosh themselves and retook the Sei town of Globiak and the Kosh towns of Kalush and Alebina. With his unstoppable army at the doorstep of Koshie itself, the Kosh sued for terms and permanently relinquished their claims on both Asperi Sei and Globiak. For his valor, Sylas was made king of all of the Sei. Havert had always liked that story because Syler was actually named after the great king. If the this Laggo the Unconquered was somehow related to the story of Sylas, it would make a most interesting topic for discussion. A quiet noise interrupted him from his attempts at reading and he looked up to see Karusa standing in the doorway with her hands clasped behind her back. "Hiya there, Karusa," he said warmly. Though most of the others only knew her as the disturbed, easily frightened woman she was now, he was the only person other than her brother who remembered her as the warm, kind person who always seemed to find something to smile or laugh about. For a time, he had fallen madly in love with his friends older sister, but she was more than a year older than he and soon married Jarem Hozren. It took some time for him to get over her, but he did and was glad now that he had Alltis. She didn't seem to hear him, but slowly walked toward him in the distant, almost dreamy way she normally did. When Syler and the others first brought her back to Thwrud, she had showed some signs of problems, but was generally lucid if not a bit withdrawn. Over the months, she had grown far worse and now was only rarely lucid enough to have a normal conversation. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked. "Do ya need anything?" Her eyes were locked on his in a disturbingly haunting manner that sent chills up Havert's back when he thought of what she must have gone through back among the Sua. While the Angvardi had paired him with a wonderful young woman, she had been forced to marry a brute of a man whom Syler had been forced to kill when rescuing her. He stood up from the desk and took a few steps toward her. "Are ya okay?" he asked again. Karusa shrugged nonchalantly and said softly, "I will be fine, Havert." She grinned at him and stood on her toes to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek as she brought her hands from behind her back. That surprised Havert so much that he nearly missed the glint of something in her right hand. As much as her kiss had surprised him, it didn't surprise him nearly as much as the blinding pain that suddenly seared through his stomach and up under his ribs. In absolute shock, he fell back into the chair he had just been sitting in while clutching his abdomen. He tried to breathe, but he couldn't force air into his lungs. He looked at Karusa with eyes wide with shock and gasped, "What…is…this?" The pain was too great to say anything more. When he looked down, all he could see was the red covering his hands and pouring down onto the chair and floor. After a few moments, he saw nothing.

The only symbol that has all of them the same special color is the Great Capitals (gold). All other highlights can be found on various other symbols (though none happen to be on towns/villages). The symbols indicate what type of settlement it is, be it a walled city, a fortified city (a city with a castle or keep, but not entirely walled), or just a regular city or town. The highlights are added to show which of those happen to be capitals and what type of capital, be it a state or national capital. I will go back to the section labeled "Highlights" and change that to "City Highlights" and I will also change "Cities" to "City Symbols." I can also make a statement in the legend that all Realms are part of Terula and all Provinces are part of Angvard. Terula wraps around the Terul Mountains. The western border of the Angvardi Empire basically ends at the Kanda River, Krue Territory, and the Escand Desert. Same with the Krue. Nobody really controls that territory, but neither do they specifically declare it their border. It is a complete no-man's land, though the Krue are more dominant there. Earlier maps had the entire area as Krue territory, but only loosely controlled. I don't have the ability to show how firm or general borders are, so I left it as neutral. I will probably go through and put a dotted line to indicate it is a loose border (and add that to the legend). Technically, this map shows pre-Conquest borders, but it also shows things that took place after the East began its conquests. For instance, Kubei didn't exist until the Angvardi (under Uthas) built it, but it was shown because of how important it was/is/will be. The borders and names reflect their original, historical names rather than the new ones that have been conquered. The purpose was to show the world as it was before it was so drastically changed and to help avoid confusion by labeling occupied territories the same as traditionally Eastern ones. Later maps will include both the new borders as well as destroyed cities (the upcoming carnage in Book 2 will leave many cities in ashes and Book 3 will see hundreds of square miles utterly destroyed by magic, fire, and the various Immortals). Did you notice any flaws in the art itself? Anything overlapping or out of place? I tried to get them all, but with things of that magnitude and complexity, it is hard to catch everything. Okay, extra bonus. I have the first part of Chapter 41 up and ready. It might seem mundane, but there are several key parts within it that are needed as setup for later events. Warning: I do get a little descriptive here regarding Lamastus and Vekla, er, enjoying their new "marriage." Perhaps it is all that reading of the Game of Thrones series, but whatever. This isn't a child's book, but I wanted to warn you guys just in case. Nothing too explicit and definitely not anything I think will cross the line here, but still. _________________________ Chapter 41 The way of the One will be fraught with danger, suffering, and torment. He will not know peace, but will live in agony. Through his sacrifice, he will make or destroy man's only hope for salvation. — the prophecies of Sanshuan the Leftsighted Thwrud Krue Territory Lamastus woke with a smile on his face. It had been another blissful night full of pleasure beyond his imaginings. He took several long minutes to let his eyes soak in the source of that pleasure. Next to him, apparently still sleeping, lay a beautiful woman. Despite the cold outside, her house was kept warm from the fire and the spell she had put over it, so they didn't need thick covers. Sometime during the night, theirs had slipped down so he was able to gaze at her firm breasts and muscular abdomen. Despite her harsh outward appearance, the sorceress Vekla was both vulnerable and yet, extremely passionate. It had taken a lot of work, but once he was able to muscle his way past her armor, he had been rewarded with riches greater than expected. It had been just a week since she took him as a mate and he had not regretted one moment of it. Most of his own people would look down upon him for what he did, but they didn't know anything. Even as a raiding ToKalak marauder, he had heard stories about sorceresses and witches and the things they could do in bed. It was said that their skills in magic were not just confined to fighting, healing, or any of the public displays they were wont to use. He had always assumed that those were nothing but tall tales of lusty soldiers who were drunk on ale and wine, but he had been wrong. Even in their private times before she took him as her mate, she had not demonstrated the sort of intense passion that she had in this last week. It was as though that act of public acknowledgment had finally broken down the last of her self reservations and the barriers that had caused her to hold back. The resulting flood of emotions that had poured forth had caught him off guard, but in a good way. Their activities while alone weren't the only things that made him happy. She was a strong woman and a natural leader. Her sorceress skills alone weren't enough to have gotten her command of a war party, she had to have more going for her than that. She was a hard worker who did nothing halfway. Now that they were formally together, she worked even harder to make things work. On their first morning, she had shocked him by actually cooking breakfast for him while he was getting water for the day. He wasn't quite sure how she had managed to cook everything in the few minutes that it took for him to brave the winter cold, break the ice over the well, and get some water, but he suspected magic was a part of it. He had always wondered if magic wielders could use their conjured fire for more than just melting armor and flesh. When he asked her why she would do such a menial thing, she got a slightly hurt look on her face and said that she had overheard some of the Sei women making plans to prepare meals for their own husbands and wanted to do something to make him feel more at home. The notion touched him almost as deeply as the first time she admitted aloud that she loved him. When they first met, he wouldn't have bet a pile of shit that she would have done anything but killed any man who asked her to make him a meal, but there she was. That, as well as her willingness to wear an actual dress, proved to him that she was not just willing to compromise on their differences in cultures, but was eager to do so for his sake. After that, he didn't question anything she did again for fear that the look of hurt would return. With another smile, Lamastus reached up to gently stroke Vekla's cheek. He knew that she was a light sleeper—a warrior's habit—and was fairly confident that she had woken, she gave no indication of having done so. With a mischievous grin, he fondled her breasts and traced the outline of her nipples for a minute before allowing his hand to wander lower. At that, she gave up all pretenses of sleeping. When she opened her eyes, they were full of hunger that he was more than willing to sate. A good amount of time later, Lamastus was walking through the halls of Syler's estate headed for the armory with a torch in hand. Though the interior hallways of the estate were always lit by torches, the armory was not and as it had no windows, it would be dark within. As a trusted advisor to the Lord of Thwrud, he had become a regular sight within the estate both as part of his duties and because of his friendships with those who lived here. He often told others that he spent more waking time here or in the yards outside as he did within Vekla's house. When he began to open the door, he heard a startled gasp and the clanging of metal on metal from inside. Though he was within the most protected place in all of Thwrud, his right hand still went for the hilt of his sword by habit. He flung the door open and thrust his torch in so he could see in the darkness. When he saw the frightened face within, he relaxed and his hand fell from the sword. "Karusa!" he exclaimed with relief in his voice. "You gave me quite the scare there." Syler's sister was holding a small candle that, though not lit, was still smoking. She was busy studying her feet and mumbled something indecipherable in response. Lamastus shook his head at that, but was not honestly surprised. The poor girl had been a mess ever since they found her in that gods forsaken collection of foul smelling shacks back in Sua Opeganeat. Whatever had been done to her there, whatever life she had been forced to live at the hands of her now dead mockery of a husband, it had left her a husk of a woman. Everyone saw it, but none dared speak about it out of courtesy to Syler who still dearly loved his only remaining blood family. Vekla had even briefly probed into her mind one day to see if she could heal anything, but came up empty. Seeing her begin to tremble, Lamastus allowed his voice to soften and said, "It's okay, Karusa. You really shouldn't be in here, there are a lot of sharp things that can hurt you." A tear flowed down her cheek as he slowly approached her. "Come on, you need to go out to where it is safer. Perhaps you would like to go to the garden?" he suggested. "You always did like the sun and the pretty snow." Though she appeared on the verge of tears, the young woman nodded and allowed Lamastus to guide her out of the armory and to the hall where the torches provided ample light. She slowly walked down the hall toward the study leaving him to shake his head in bewilderment before returning to the armory to complete his own business. When he was done, he headed out to the yard near the hasuan stables. There, the more elite warriors were allowed to practice and display their abilities. These were the best men that Syler or his allies had to offer and they took great pride in being able to drill themselves in their lord's grounds. The ability to practice here was done by invitation only from a consensus of the various lieutenants who oversaw the yard. When he was able, Lamastus liked to watch these men, both Thwrudil and those of other clans or nations, spar to gauge their abilities. On more than one occasion, he would join them. So far, he had managed to give a good accounting for himself, though he was not always victorious. Of those that were considered most prominent was the Groolati warrior, Tathor. The grizzled man had fought against Syler at Thattos and had slain many of his soldiers before the Larossi allied forces had been forced to retreat and ultimately surrender. Despite that, as soon as Lord Rellaq had pledged his loyalty to Syler, the warrior had wholeheartedly embraced his new allies. Loyalty among the Krue was first and foremost to the clan and its lord. With Clan Groolat now officially a part of Syler's emerging kingdom, loyalty to clan now meant loyalty to Syler. Most of the defeated warriors had been quick to make every attempt to display their loyalty to Maluk Syler and had become among his most enthusiastic and vocal supporters. Tathor was quickly rising to prominence among that group and had won the respect of many of those whom he had once fought against, but he was not alone. Of the two score that were currently in the yard, a dozen of them had once been Syler's enemies. At first, Syler had ordered their inclusion as a way to help bring everyone together. Now, his plans had taken hold and warriors from Clans Groolat, Moerisi, and Pataswu were regularly invited by those from Thwrud, Jangtant, Duneri, Lotorn, and the others who had flocked to Syler's banner as allies. "Captain Lamastus!" one of the warriors called out as he approached. He quickly found the woman who had spoken and smiled, "Lieutenant Relwind, it is a good day to drill, no?" She returned the smile and replied, "Do you wish to have a go at it again, or are you too sore from last time?" The last time they had sparred, the feisty woman had managed to batter him mercilessly with her blunted training blade. Even though he had his heavy armor on, she had learned its weak spots near the joints and the back of his calves and had taken advantage of them. He had given her a good number of bruises and a busted lip, but in the end, he had been forced to yield. There was no disgrace in that because Relwind was one of the most feared and respected warriors in Thwrud. Women were not given any favor or allowances among the Kruish warriors. Those who had survived long enough to be accepted as a warrior had learned to be brutal, tough, and fierce on the battlefield. Those extremely few who had been selected as officers were doubly so. "Oh," he said as he walked over to the weapons rack to exchange his normal sword for a training one, "I think I can stand to go another round with you. I hope Muldas doesn't mind patching you up when I am done with you." "He would mind as much as Vekla would," she retorted in kind, though the smile remained on her face. Lamastus swung the practice sword around a few times to get a feel for its balance. It was smaller and lighter than his normal weapon, but he didn't mind too much. When he was ready, he followed Relwind out to the open where they had more room. A few of the others who were not engaged in duels of their own had gathered at the edge to watch and place bets on the outcome. After a quick salute, Lamastus got into a fighting stance. Before she charged at him, he managed to get out a friendly taunt. "My mate at least has magic to make all my hurts go away, does your husband have the same?" Relwind waited until they had exchanged several indecisive blows before replying through gritted teeth. "No, but unlike Vekla, Muldas won't be needing to tend to any of my wounds." Lamastus replied with a brutally powerful blow that allowed him to land a glancing blow on her shoulder. He only smiled at her furious expression and said, "Don't get too cocky there, I might have some fire left in me after all." It was a mistake to provoke her and he soon paid with a numb left hand. The numbers around them had grown and many were calling out advice or playful jabs at the two. They danced around the yard exchanging blow after blow until the sweat poured down their faces and steam blew out of their mouths noses with every breath. Relwind was quicker, but Lamastus was stronger and had better endurance so the match was even until the last. After their last fight, he had studied her moves and learned to counter them. If there was anything Lamastus excelled at, it was quickly learning how to gauge people both on and off the battlefield. It was for that reason alone that, in the end, he managed to slip through her defenses and batter away her sword. Despite her desire to win, she had the grace to realize that without her sword, she was beaten and gracefully yielded. "You fought very well, Lieutenant," Lamastus said as he offered a hand to help her up from where she had been kneeling. She managed to keep the disappointment out of her voice in her response, "You are good to say as much." "I am serious. You nearly had me multiple times and I still can't move the fingers on my left hand. Your weakness is that you were predictable." She cocked her head and blinked a few times. "How so?" "You favor attacking from below on your right side then, when your opponent counters, you try to cause him to over commit and leave himself vulnerable. That is how you managed to get my left hand, but once I saw that, I learned to resist the urge to commit more than was necessary to block your blow." About this point, Lamastus raised his voice and began addressing those who were watching as well. "You also rely too much on your speed. You like wide arcs and flashy attempts to distract your opponent. That might work in a melee or against common infantry, but in a sparring match such as this, it wastes too much energy. I was able to counter your moves with far less effort and thus keep my endurance up. Focus less on speed and more on precision. Learn your enemy's habits and develop a sense of where they are both strong and weak. In the battles to come, you won't be facing lightly armed and armored Krue who favor speed. You will be facing heavily armed and armored Angvardi and Terulan infantry who use strength and their armor to win the day. Since they wear heavier armor, they have better stamina, especially since they train with weights on their wrists, ankles, and waist. While those things may seem advantages, they also can be weaknesses. Since they rely on their armor and strength, they tend to overcompensate in their attacks. A precise strike at the weak points in their armor will end them quickly before their advantages come into play. "I strongly recommend that you find some experienced Seinari or some other foreigners who utilize the same tactics that the Angvardi and Terulans will be using so you can practice against them. You will find that they use very different skills and moves from your fellow Krue. When you learn something, teach it to your men. Anything you learn here will only help you survive the coming onslaught." Relwind bowed her head briefly in respect then retreated to tend to her wounds. Lamastus had suffered his own hurts, but it was far better than the last time they met. Vekla might raise an eyebrow at the new bruises he had accumulated, but at least she wouldn't have to heal any broken bones. Even before she had taken him as a mate, she had been rather cross with him whenever he came back battered and bruised from the training field.