MoM: One Who Masters Magic (Epilogue)

[Travis]

 

• 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...

Edited June 24, 2012 by Guest

[Sasori]

This will be my first read through, looking forward to seeing the more finished version

[Travis]

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.

Edited June 15, 2012 by Guest

[Sasori]

All of these men were dressed in shining plate armor with mail beneath and carried spears in their hand and a sword on their belt. Each wore the crest of their emperor on their chest plate which seemed to faintly glow from some internal source. The leader had no spear, but instead carried a red and gold standard 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. Even without ample light, these men all but shone in prim and proper form from the meticulous care spent to every detail of their armor and mounts. Both man and beast were grim, determined, and driven to the task at hand.

 

This passage feels odd, out of place, it doesn't match the tone of the rest of the passage the way I was reading it. You started off with a personal sort of passage, expressing the undying cold that the knights seems to be oblivious too, which is a nice and creative way of saying how ordered and disciplined they are. Then it transforms to this. It is too precise, like you are mathematically trying to imprint an image upon the reader instead of finding a creative way to describe their gear. More importantly, the gear isn't really that important unless this specific uniform has some sort of need for the story. Does the fact they have chain mail and plate armor change the way the story runs? "You could easily rewrite this with fewer words that would better explain them.

 

"A red and gold banner led the way of these men, whose imperial armor glimmered even in the dim lights of the streets."

 

 

That gives me the image already of shiny armor, a banner, and imperial describing the Empire. You never described the imperial emblem so no need to mention it in this passage either. If another character focuses on it, you could describe it then because then it has a presence in the story as a character interaction, but right now, it is a waste of words and makes me as a reader feel pretty bored. I half expect you to describe the amount of hair on their faces next, and when you are trying to establish your hook, that is never a good thing.

 

Their destination seemed a mockery of their dress and manner. 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. There were no bright colors or fancy standards to be seen, only a line of laundry drying to the side. A few cloaked figures milled around accomplishing various tasks or simply meditating. 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.

 

This passage seems to be a mixmatch of tone as well. The second sentence in particular. I'd rearrange it to right after introducing th monastery:

 

"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. A few cloaked figures milled around accomplishing various tasks or simply meditating. The monastery itself was not impressive to the eyes, either. 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. 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."

 

Flows a bit better no?

 

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 the prophet Terrand."

 

Emperor is a proper noun, should be punctuated appropriately.

 

 

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 said with a strong but non-aggressive 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 the prophet Terrand."

 

The cloaked man who had first spoken stood firm and repeated, "You are not permitted on these grounds."

 

The rider set his jaw and said in a harsh voice, "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 and said resolutely for the last time, "You are not permitted on these grounds."

 

True to his word, the rider pulled out his sword and ran the acolyte through. The other riders 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. That many of the thrown spears found their marks in the chests of the acolytes was a testament that their shining armor was not merely for show, but that its wearers were skilled warriors.

 

This interaction feels bland. I am not really getting imagery here other than eight acolytes are now dead and now we are glorifying the knights who seem to be the villains in this intro. It would be like leading off Harry Potter by saying how awesome Voldemort is, it just doesn't work. It is just too quick with no imagery of this savage act. As a reader, I don't know what comes ahead, so I don't know if these guys are good or not, but knowing what comes ahead doesn't help the present once a reader has finished this passage. We want to see these people as victims, because we cannot believe these men are heroes, so write it as such. The next passage tackles this, but only after we knew the eight were dead and we glorified the villains. Try combining the passages:

 

"True to his word, the rider pulled out his sword and ran the acolyte through. The other riders sprang into action and either threw their spears or dismounted in complete silence. Before their feet touched the ground, 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 who stood their ground within the monastery accepted their fate without any signs of cowardice or hesitation. The riders offered no sounds of their own, but just went forth with their grim task in silence."

 

 

 

 

 

The rest of the chapter is great. Can't wait to read more.

[Travis]

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.

 

 

This passage feels odd, out of place, it doesn't match the tone of the rest of the passage the way I was reading it. . . . . . . .

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.

 

Flows a bit better no?

Indeed and it has been changed.

 

Emperor is a proper noun, should be punctuated appropriately.

Not completely sure on that, but I will take your word on it and have changed it.

 

 

This interaction feels bland.

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.

[Sasori]

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.

 

First, thanks for the appreciation, glad to know my writing knowledge is still of use.

 

Second, while the armor will have a place in the story, right now it doesn't and it is a useless detail that detracts from the overall scene.

[Travis]

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.

[DarthBrendo]

I probably won't comment a whole lot except to let you know that I'm still reading, having read the first draft. Except if I notice anything that needs to be pointed out of course.

[Travis]

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.

[Sasori]

My CHAPTER 1a Notes

 

Sandrin

 

I know it is hard to come up with new words in an exhausted genre like Fantasy, but I misread it the first time and saw why immediately. Sindarin is the language of some Elves in LOTR.

 

Syler Penion could barely hear the sound of the bells over the clinking of his hammer against iron. 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 first sentence is out of place. It creates a sense of introduction of a confrontation, between two characters, but then we go into this diatribe about what Syler was doing for the past few hours. Then we go into a long wonderful description of the setting in the Village of Sandrin only to return to what had caused the noise paragraphs later. The short sentence is completely forgotten and useless by the time we get to the friendly introduction of Havert. Lose the sentence or add it right before this line:

 

It was not long before a cheerful voice with a familiar drawl cried out over the sound of hammering. "Heya Syler! Did ya hear?"

 

Then you would have something that reads like this:

 

Syler Penion 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.

 

...

...

...

 

Syler could barely hear the sound of the bells over the clinking of his hammer against iron and it was not long before a cheerful voice with a familiar drawl cried out over the sound of hammering. "Heya Syler! Did ya hear?"

 

 

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."

 

The highlighted area feels weird with Havert's accent, should be Fight o' course. especially when he does the same thing two lines down.

 

Syler sighed. "Maybe you are right. I would not want to leave Karusa alone."

 

This feels weak, at this point we have gotten some background on Syler and for him to only sigh and us not see what the internal dialog is that leads to his response makes it feel weak and forced. Then who the hell is Karusa? This person has yet to be introduced and is mentioned and then not given any description so the name is hollow and useless, we know it may be someone important to Syler, but perhaps Havert saying something about this person would give us some semblance of why Syler cares. We find out later the name is of his Sister, but it comes after a hollow introduction.

 

He had already considered that and dismissed it even before coming to the village square. He had vowed that if his name had been selected, he would serve and fight just like the others and not shy away behind the guise of being needed elsewhere.

 

When did he already consider staying behind? Did I miss that when reading? Add this internal consideration where I nitpicked before and this becomes a clear definition of character.

 

 

The exchange system of the conscription and the conscription itself is oddly reminiscent of The Hunger Games. I don't really mind as it works here but it is something to be aware of.

 

"We don't have the numbers to win," Syler said."

 

Typo.

 

 

Rest of the chapter is fine, creates a sense of urgency against overwhelming odds. While Syler is not exactly personable just yet, the 1b part of this chapter may resolve that and give us some sort of character growth.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 1b Notes

 

 

Throughout this chapter you seem to find Havert's voice a lot more, and you write him quite a bit more fluidly. The accent doesn't seem to go in and out anymore, everything seems far more consistent with the character. Which is great, I appreciate reading a fluid character, now go and change that stuff in 1a to match.

 

Syler though, while his voice was found I still don't appreciate him as a character, maybe I am alone in this, but he isn't very developed, and when you have an introductory chapter that brings in and is meant to hook us into a character and hasn't, it makes a reader want to put the book down. I am going to point to a resource for you, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

 

The first chapter was dedicated to Vernon Dursley and his day and mingling with the undesirables of life it was a fantastic introduction as it puts us in the seat of a character who lives life like the rest of us, then it introduces us slowly with more frequency as we go through, into the magical world, without ever mentioning magic at all. We are greeted to some great characters, find out the circumstances of what caused all the extraordinary occurrences throughout Vernon Dursley's day, and even though just a baby, we already care about young Harry Potter and what the future holds for him after the tragic event that caused his fame. Then in the second chapter we find out about what defines his character, the odd things happening around him, his mistreatment, his disposition to his cousin, lack of friends, everything. We are rooting for him even more now because he is an underdog. As chapters go on, he forms friendships and we find out his values from that and other events around him.

 

With Syler we are thrown into a character who already has his life set up around him and is not discovering anything about himself, thus, his entire character already is and exists and we have to root for him because without him, the story ends. As a reader we have no desire for him to win because we have no connection to the character. Make us care about Syler because honestly, I have more of a connection to Havert.

 

On the whole the latter half of the chapter was fine, but I expected more establishment of Syler's character and for us not to be thrown into war so soon. This should be a later chapter, much later in fact. We need the first two chapters or more to be dedicated to the crafting of the protagonist, instead it seems like this was written in a hurry like he just had a helmet shoved on him and is on a horse to battle immediately. It would be like if in the first chapter of LOTR Frodo already was up against the Nazgul, that comes later after establishing the protagonist and associated fellow characters to help move the plot forward. Slow down, make me give a damn about Syler, then get to this stuff.

[DarthBrendo]

Karusa is Syler's sister and introduced in the first post.

[Sasori]

Karusa is Syler's sister and introduced in the first post.

 

 

Not the actual book though at that point. This isn't a play where we get a list of characters and go with it, it is a book, we have to be introduced to characters and have reason to care for them within the text. We aren't playing D&D and reading a "New Essential Player's Guide" while reading.

[DarthBrendo]

Sorry, I meant the first post of the book. She's mentioned in the second paragraph, second line.

[Sasori]

Sorry, I meant the first post of the book. She's mentioned in the second paragraph, second line.

 

 

There it is, I was so thorough yet missed that, she was posted about and then quickly whisked off so I completely forgot about her.

[Travis]

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.

 

I know it is hard to come up with new words in an exhausted genre like Fantasy, but I misread it the first time and saw why immediately. Sindarin is the language of some Elves in LOTR.

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.

 

The exchange system of the conscription and the conscription itself is oddly reminiscent of The Hunger Games. I don't really mind as it works here but it is something to be aware of.

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.

 

While Syler is not exactly personable just yet, the 1b part of this chapter may resolve that and give us some sort of character growth.

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.

 

On the whole the latter half of the chapter was fine, but I expected more establishment of Syler's character and for us not to be thrown into war so soon. This should be a later chapter, much later in fact. We need the first two chapters or more to be dedicated to the crafting of the protagonist, instead it seems like this was written in a hurry like he just had a helmet shoved on him and is on a horse to battle immediately.

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.

 

Syler though, while his voice was found I still don't appreciate him as a character, maybe I am alone in this, but he isn't very developed, and when you have an introductory chapter that brings in and is meant to hook us into a character and hasn't, it makes a reader want to put the book down.

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.

[Sasori]

My point is start earlier, start with us getting to know Syler for a whole chapter before even the news of war comes from Havert, it would give a lot of character development and give him, while common, to identify with the protagonist, because most of us readers are pretty common and could identify with him if the writer gives us the opportunity again.

[Travis]

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.

[Travis]

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.

[DarthBrendo]

Sorry I've not gotten to this earlier. I've been away.

 

A few things. This sentence feels awkward

It had been morning by the time their company had arrived and the battle was already invested

.

 

he Sei numbered somewhere around seventy thousand—and impressive force by any reckoning

Take the bolded d out I think....doesn't flow smoothly as an "and" but as an "an" it's ok.

 

We are here to show you the Way of the Tetrarchy and of truth of all things.

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"?

 

Now, united at last, we are the most powerful ever to exist upon the face of Teladia and now we have a new,

Most powerful what? I think you're missing a word there...Empire? Civilisation?

 

I'm not sure how I feel about the actual battle being removed from the text. It certainly changes the momentum and focuses the reader more upon the emotion, however, personally, I really liked the way you'd written the battle and the visuals of it.

[Travis]

A few things. This sentence feels awkward

It had been morning by the time their company had arrived and the battle was already invested

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.

 

Take the bolded d out I think....doesn't flow smoothly as an "and" but as an "an" it's ok.

Typo, it has been fixed.

 

We are here to show you the Way of the Tetrarchy and of truth of all things.

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."

 

Most powerful what? I think you're missing a word there...Empire? Civilisation?

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'm not sure how I feel about the actual battle being removed from the text. It certainly changes the momentum and focuses the reader more upon the emotion, however, personally, I really liked the way you'd written the battle and the visuals of it.

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.

[DarthBrendo]

I knew what invested meant, sorry, it was actually the first half of the sentence that felt awkward.

 

My gut instinct tells me that a Saving Private Ryan style opening could work but it would be tough to pull off.

[Travis]

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?

 

The sun had already began to rise over the horizon by the time their company arrived at the river. There, they found both armies already fully invested.

[DarthBrendo]

Much better.

[Travis]

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.

[DarthBrendo]

A little bit different to the original, but still good. I'm undecided on how I feel about the added conversation lines between Havert and Syler, I don't know that it necessarily adds much in, but it doesn't detract either, i don't believe.

[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.

[Travis]

Next section is ready and it is entirely new material. For those who have read the first draft, they will recognize who the unnamed Governor is. I intentionally left out the name because he will be formally introduced shortly in Chapter 4. Nonetheless, as part of my stated desires to flesh out some of the supporting characters, I felt that this would be a key part. It also helps explain a good chunk of this character's future actions and connect a few dots. Plus, I have always found that getting into the psyche of villains was a lot of fun, especially if they think they willingly accept the evil they do in order to satisfy some grand, righteous goal.

 

 

_______________

 

Chapter 3

 

The Sei have been conquered, only the northernmost regions have yet to be occupied. We have already began implementing Unification among the captured soldiers and will implement it among the general population by the end of the week.

 

— journal entry by Angvardi General Saveron dated the day after the Battle of Fazei Crossing

 

Kubei

Angvardi Province of Kut

Elmbial 15th

 

The governor frowned at the wailing coming from the man chained to the table. The high pitched shrieks were just enough to spoil his meal and cause his ears to ring a little. With a sigh, he pushed the plate of steaming pork and fresh potatoes mixed with lentils away and focused his attention back on the subject of his annoyance.

 

He was weary of this game and had far better things to do, but the Kuti were a stubborn people and had to do everything the hard way. He wasn't asking for much, just a single name and perhaps a location and all of this would end. This wretch was just the latest in a long, tiring string of clues along the path along the road that was necessary. The last one had barely lasted a day and suffered a mental breakdown that left her babbling senselessly. At least they had managed to use her ranting to find this man.

 

The governor stood up from his own small table and walked across the small room to where the naked man was chained across the interrogation table. The man was lying on his back with his arms and legs pulled back to below the table line thus arching his back painfully and making it hard for him to get a deep breath. He was covered in blood and sweat and stank, but the governor, despite his new station, was no stranger to foul odors and paid it no heed.

 

"There, there," he said with mock concern, "if you would only tell me what I need to know, it will all end here and now. There will be no more cutting, no more hot irons, and no more scourges, just the peaceful release of death. You will close your eyes here and wake up in the warm embrace of Mewela herself to rest for all of eternity."

 

The man spat a glob of bloody spittle at the governor's direction, but was no able to hit his target. The governor responded with a swift backhand across the man's face. "That," the governor said testily, "was not called for. At every turn, I have tried to make this easier for you, but all you do is fight me. You can't blame me for what has happened to you."

 

The man said something in his barbaric language. While he knew a little of his tongue, the governor didn't need a translation for the rest of it to sense the defiance and anger in those words. "I know you speak the Common Tongue," he admonished. "Tell me who the seer is or I will be forced to use more drastic methods."

 

"Do your worst, beast," the man retorted. "I will not betray one of my own."

 

There was genuine sadness in the governor's face when he responded. "Very well then, we will do this the hard way. Remember, I gave you a chance."

 

The torturers came back in, but they were just as assistants. The governor would now be the one taking over the interrogation with his own special touch. As a sorcerer, he would never quite be able to utilize the same amount of raw power that wizards could, but his skills were more in the arcane and were far broader than what wizards or mages normally worked with. Among those skills was the ability to manipulate a man's very lifeblood and inflict terrible pain all while keeping the victim alive. It wasn't a widely advertised skill due to the questionable moral ethics surrounding it, but the governor did not care what others thought.

 

His work lasted well into the night and the man's screams grew only louder with each passing hour. Between bouts of torture, while one of his mage assistants spent time healing the man with magic, the governor would prepare his next spells to further assault the man's will and wear it down. In one of those periods of healing, as the man was pleading for death, he had a brief moment of doubt about this course that caused him to recall the road that had led him to this dark dungeon at this even darker hour.

 

The governor had not always been a governor. He started out as the second son of a minor noble in Pedrella Province several hundred miles to the southeast of where he stood now. He spent his first few years in the town of Plabas, an unremarkable little cluster of houses were nothing exciting or dangerous happened. He would have grown up, been bequeathed a small amount of money from his father, and started his own farm or trading company and probably never left that quiet place had the Terulans not arrived.

 

It was a morning like any other when he was just six years old when his entire life had been destroyed. It was toward the end of the last great war with the Southerners and a large Terulan army had crossed the River Tuo from Castle Bluerock and burned their way northeast. His father had tried to get them out, but the Terulans had sent their cavalry out ahead to encircle the town so that none could escape.

 

All male adults were rounded up and slaughtered outright. The young, attractive women were handed out to the men and abused horribly. The rest of them, as long as they didn't fight back, were simply abandoned as the army moved on. Before the Terulans left, they burned almost the entire town leaving the survivors with nothing.

 

His father had been killed in front of him and his mother, when she tried to stop the soldiers, was sent to join him in death. His older sister, despite only being twelve, was rounded up with the young women and passed around to several men before having her throat slit. He was left alone with some neighbors who allowed him to tag along for a time.

 

After a few months of begging and sleeping in ditches while fleeing the Terulan advance, he found himself in Ravest, capital city of the Province of West Angvrada. He, along with countless other refugees, was taken in by an orphanage and stayed there until the spark of sorcery was discovered in him. From there, he began down the path to his true destiny as a sorcerer.

 

He had always fancied reading the old scrolls and books that the sorcerers kept. On occasion, he was even allowed to have access to some of the wizards' materials, but they typically guarded their secrets jealously. He was driven by a single hatred for those who destroyed his family to excel and lean all that he could. Because of that, and because he didn't seek the fleeting pleasures that the other young sorcerers used their status to enjoy, he grew strong and respected.

 

Three days before he took his final trials to become a full fledged sorcerer, he received the second most devastating news of his life: peace had been declared. Their empress, Celienna, had announced her impending marriage to the Terulan bastard King Rael, the man whose father ordered the invasion that slaughtered his family. There would be no vengeance, no retaliation, no retribution, and no satisfaction for him. From that terrible day that the Terulans had marched into Plabas until he received news of the peace, all that he had dreamed of was to grow up and one day kill as many Southerners as possible. As a sorcerer, his magic would have been devastating on the battlefield and many would have felt his wrath.

 

It was all gone now, all of it.

 

He was so broken that he failed his trials and was forced to wait another six months before attempting them again. In that time, he fell into depression and became a recluse spending all of his time in the library. He didn't speak to anyone unless queried on something and even then, he only responded with as few words as possible. Life had gone out of him and all he had left were books and scrolls.

 

One month before his second attempt at the trials, he was spending a long night in the darkest, most secluded section of the library when he came upon something that changed his life forever. He happened upon a small, dusty old leather bound book that bore the humble name of Prophecies of Drow Pon. There were many such books of minor prophets in the library, but he had never even heard of this one. In his apathetic state, he figured that reading this book would possibly help him fall to sleep so he picked it up and opened its cover.

 

Sunrise found him still engrossed in the words of Prophet Pon.

 

It was as though the prophet, an obscure man from Goteip six hundred years ago, was speaking directly to him. The book included not just prophecies, but also the prophet's interpretation and commentary on them. How these works had gone unnoticed for all these centuries was still a mystery to him, but they spoke of the Coming Darkness and the end of the world.

 

He stayed in the library with that book for two straight days. He didn't eat nor drink the entire time. He read the small book twice over before realizing what he needed to do. From that point forward, he had found a new destiny, one of far greater importance than mere vengeance against the Southerners.

 

He astonished his instructors and fellow students by excelling in his trials one month later. Once he was a member of the Sorcerer's Conclave, he was given more freedoms and access to new materials. He traveled a bit from library to library while searching for books of prophecy. He didn't bother looking in the places with all the "important" prophecies because people had already pondered upon those. Instead, he went to the back rooms, the cellars, and the forgotten places to look for works that had not been studied.

 

Despite his enlightenment, he still harbored hatred for the Terulans. He couldn't force himself to forgive Empress Celienna for betraying her people and making peace with the enemy. She would have to pay for the treachery. For now, he bided his time and began formulating a plan to get his revenge against both the Empress and her beloved husband.

 

While he did this, he also began working his way into politics and power. It took a lot of work, a lot of threats, and a good deal of manipulating to climb the ranks of Angvardi society. He had a knack for spotting important events and people and making the right decisions. Though his studies, he pinpointed places and individuals mentioned in prophecy as being important to these end times. It was only a matter of planning and doing before he could climb in power. His big break came when he foresaw the downfall of House Eszdra that controlled Dunhavo Province. He managed to maneuver himself into the good graces of those who would replace them and was able to skip several rungs on the ladder of power.

 

Still further manipulation and a healthy dose of spilled blood landed him a spot on the short list of those considered as the next governor of the Kuti territories. All it took was the unfortunate illness of one of the contenders and threatening the wife of another to position himself among the final two. He managed to convince the other man that were he to withdraw and recommend him for the spot, he would in turn secure him governorship of the Kingdom of the Sei, a far more prominent territory, but one that he had no interest in.

 

The Kuti lands were key in prophecy and he needed to be in charge to enact his plans. As governor of this sparse, impoverished province, he was unquestionably the least among the governors, but that was irrelevant. His power would come not in large armies or stockpiles of gold, but in being in the right place at the right time to take advantage of prophecy.

 

There were sacrifices that had to be made to ensure his ascendancy, but they were insignificant in the long run. What did it matter if he had to torture or kill a few hundred savages if it meant he was carrying out prophecy? After all, it had been foretold already, straight from the Tetrarchy themselves, so it had to be what they wanted. And who but the gods could determine what was right and what was wrong? If he was fulfilling and enabling prophecy, then clearly he was doing what was right. Only he had been shown the prophecies, only he had the information needed. The gods had saved those books for centuries just so he could find them. It was their will, nothing less.

 

The governor shook his head to clear it and bring himself back into the present. There was work to be done and he needed more information. The prophecies had spoken of a seer that would play a pivotal role in the life of the Master of Magic. He had discovered that that very One was to be here after the Kuti were conquered by foreigners from the East. This was that time and now he needed to know where the seer was. She would lead him to the One and once he knew who that man was, he would be able to influence things once more to his benefit.

 

It took two more hours, but the wretched man finally broke under the power of sorcery. With tears streaming out of the corners of his eyes, he uttered two names: that of a tribe and that of a woman. It took another thirty minutes before the governor was satisfied that the man was not lying. Before he killed the man, he had his scribes verify that such a tribe existed. Not only did it exist, but the woman's name was in his records as being in this very city. With a feeling of exhilaration at the newfound information, the governor thanked the man before slitting his throat.

 

He always kept his promises.

[DarthBrendo]

Great new chapter Travis. Really opens up the Governor, and gives him a lot more motivation and makes him a more believable character. Nicely done.

[Travis]

The second part to Chapter 3. There were a few changes, mostly minor ones.

 

 

Fazei Crossing,

Angvardi Province of Sei

Elmbial 16th

 

The morning after the battle, the captured men were all roused and fed breakfast. Syler was grateful to have a plate of sizzling bacon and warm bread after the previous day's ordeal. It almost felt like being at home even if his favorite eggs were replaced by thousands of strangely dressed Easterners who had just conquered his homeland and killed many of the people he had grown up knowing. By this point, the Angvardi did not seem to be as on guard around the Sei and even had short conversations with some of them. Clearly, since their conversions the previous night, they were no longer viewed as being hostiles that could revolt at any moment. They knew the value that men of the West placed on their words and trusted in their pledges to keep them in line—at least openly. In the last day, even Syler had to admit they were acting far more hospitably than he had expected a conquering army to.

 

After breakfast, Syler managed to catch a glimpse of those Sei who had not converted being led away in chains. The sight left him numb and feeling guilty for not having the courage they demonstrated in standing up for their faith. Who was he to be able to go free when they were in chains? He had sacrificed his honor and his word and would forever have to live with that fact. Those men had sacrificed their freedom, but could hold their head high with honor. Who was the more courageous: the one who sacrificed his freedom or the one who sacrificed his honor? He deeply regretted what he had to do, what Fate had brought him to and hoped that the Elements would understand. If they didn't, then there was nothing more he could do but accept his punishment. He had to care for his sister, all else was irrelevant.

 

Havert had said little to him since their argument. He stayed nearby, but didn't say much to him or anyone else. Instead, he mostly brewed in silence and, while Syler mostly focused inward, kept an eye out for what was going on around them. Syler feared that his decision to return to Karusa had cost him the respect of his friend. There was nothing he could do about it, though. His family came first.

 

Around lunchtime, they began to notice various groups of Sei and Angvardi marching in various directions. Most of them were to the south and east, but a few went in other directions. Syler and Havert found themselves in a group of about four hundred men all who were eagerly talking among themselves.

 

Havert was quickly caught up in the excitement and, despite his earlier quiet, began to mingle a little with the others to hear what rumors were floating around. He returned to Syler after half an hour and said casually, "Welp, it looks like they will be sendin' us home after all."

 

"And it's 'bout time," another Sei said, taking the need for Syler's response away from him. "I was wondering when they would get around to it."

 

Syler noticed the movement, but said nothing. Havert continued to talk with a few of the others but generally ignored his friend. At this point, Syler didn't much mind because he had began to become despondent over his choice. Seeing the men being carried away in chains really rattled him. The question of whether he had done the right thing was still raging within him.

 

It didn't take long for those gathered to figure out that all of the men in their group were from areas to the northwest where Sandrin was located. It made sense if the Angvardi were going to drop them off as a long train instead of sending out numerous smaller groups that could cause problems. It might take longer that way, but it would require more men to watch them all.

 

The men were excited about finally getting away from this entire mess and began debating what sort of changes their daily life would face under Eastern rule. In the past, their little villages and farming communities received almost no direct control from the crown. They were allowed to rule their affairs as long as they paid their taxes and offered men and supplies for the defense of the kingdom. Even when the crown got directly involved, it was almost always through a magistrate from See Sei, and that was a rare event indeed. The most important individual in their daily lives the elders who helped guide the village's collective efforts and mediate disputes.

 

Syler remained in self imposed seclusion and reflective even as their own group was organized and ordered to form ranks. A few of the Angvardi sappers began walking up and down the column handing out supplies for their journey. They were given a simple bedroll, a flint and tinderbox, a plate and cup, and about two days worth of food. Syler wasn't too surprised to note that all of it was Sei in origin, probably taken from the camps and redistributed among the men. They didn't have much food, so either the Angvardi incorrectly believed that Sandrin was within two day's march or they intended on keeping their new converts on a short leash by withholding food. Somehow, Syler doubted that it was the former.

 

Not long after they received their supplies, several Angvardi horsemen formed up around the Sei. One man, an officer by the looks of his golden pauldrons, began riding up and down their group. "I am Sergeant Jaclens," he said in his strange Eastern accent. "We are to depart from this camp and march to your homes. I expect this to be done in an orderly fashion. As men of the Way, it is our charge to conduct ourselves with the utmost honor and dignity when we face our duty."

 

There was ripples of excitement among the men as they heard this news. They were all eager to return to their families and continue on with their lives, even the Seinari who had been lifelong soldiers. Syler remained silent, merely content to watch the others and their captors. Though nobody but Havert knew it, he was returning only to his shame. He had violated his word and broken his oath. Even if he was now able to help Karusa, he would never be able to regain his honor properly. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for her.

 

After forming up into standard marching ranks with Sei on the inside and Angvardi cavalry surrounding them, the entire group began marching. Their Angvardi led them east through the camp along a makeshift road that had been formed during the last day by the trampling of tens of thousands of feet. At first, nobody said anything and figured that the Angvardi simply wanted to get out of camp and were following some odd sort of rules. The unease along the column began to grow as they left camp and didn't swing back west to cross the river or north toward Sandrin. Their Angvardi escorts did not seem to want to make the turn, but were content in heading east away from where these men lived.

 

The unease turned into discontented murmurs as it became clear that their escorts had no intention on turning around. One rather brave man had the courage to call out, "We live to the west, why are we heading to the east? What treachery is this?"

 

At first, nobody answered him. Emboldened by his lead, more Sei began to call out and demand an answer. The Angvardi were now watching their charges carefully and had hands near their weapons as though they were expecting trouble. When nobody answered them, several of the Sei in the front stopped and demanded to know where they were being taken.

 

Sergeant Jaclens rode up to the front and finally addressed the Sei. "You are being taken to you new homes. The Way has stated that all must experience Unification, and that is what shall be done."

 

There were several outcries of anger from among the crowd. A few men shouted that they lived in the west and were perfectly happy with their homes. All of these cries were ignored by the Angvardi.

 

"The Way demands Unity and that Unity comes through following its directives," continued Jaclens. "You gave an oath to serve the Way and the Way has directed that you must follow the path of Unification. Unification directs that you shall make your homes in Kubei among the Kuti peoples so that your people's will become one and therefore Unified. Just as the Angvardi have mingled and become one with the Terulans, so must the Sei and the Kuti. Your lives were spared only for this purpose. If you resist in this, you will be killed."

 

The Sei were silent for several moments as the shock of that revelation swept over them. The various Kuti tribes that lived to the east of their kingdom had long been bitter enemies. They had been sending raiding parties into Sei lands for centuries and had killed countless thousands in their attacks. For their part, the Seinari had made many retaliation incursions into their territories and burned villages by the dozens. The blood feud between the two peoples had gone on for as long as either side could remember and would not be cast aside lightly.

 

The thought of being taken from their homes and forced to live among their hated enemies was infuriating. After they recovered from the shock, cries of outrage began to erupt from the men. Some got so angry that the Angvardi drew weapons and prepared to strike them down. Seeing the drawn swords and lowered spears at the ready, most of the angry men resorted to glaring at their captors in hatred.

 

One man made a run for it. He had apparently waited for a gap in the perimeter and for the Angvardi's attention to be focused on the more vocally angry Sei before sprinting out of the column and toward freedom. The man was through the Angvardi net and was twenty yards away before they even noticed he was gone. He kept running to the cheers of several of his countrymen.

 

The Angvardi did not charge after him despite being on horses. Instead, one of them pulled his bow off of his back and nocked an arrow, then aimed. The escapee continued to run despite warnings from the rest of the men, but he was not able to escape the arrow once it was loosed. There were cries of outrage mixed with groans as the man's body tumbled to the ground with an arrow in his upper back.

 

"Enough!" shouted Jaclens as he pulled on the reigns of his horse to keep it under control in the excitement. "This man's death was needless. All of you swore to uphold the Way and the Way dictates we must all experience Unity. I myself took a Terulan wife and our people had been fighting for centuries untold. None of you have wives or children at home, so you must therefore take wives of another tribe and end your blood feud with them. You must now examine yourselves and decide whether you will stay true to your oaths or if you will abandon your honor. Any who attempt to escape Unification will be put to death as heretics and oath breakers!"

 

That silenced all of the outcries leaving only murmurings of discontent and anger. Nobody here wanted to break their word nor did they want to die. The Angvardi slowly began sheathing their swords as their charges began to calm down. None of the men were happy, but they realized that to resist now would be futile. The Angvardi were not only armed, but they had horses to run down anyone who escaped.

 

Syler paid little attention to what was going on. As soon as he heard what their fate was, he knew that the Elements had chosen to punish him for his broken oath. He would not get to take care of his sister and, based on what the sergeant had said, she would be given to a Kuti as a wife. He had broken his oath for because no matter what he had done, he would be taken away from her. For a brief moment, he considered trying to make a break for it, but that would only result in his own death. Being dead would do his sister no good now.

 

Wrapped up in his own grief and pain, he paid little attention as the men got back into ranks and continued their eastward march. His feet moved of their own accord acting upon hours of drills to where he didn't even need to guide them. His eyes stared into the back of the man in front of him without seeing. Havert, who was marching beside him, seemed to understand what his friend was going through and said nothing.

 

Miles passed and the sun rose and set, all without Syler noticing or caring. He was lost in his own world of misery and rejection. He had given control of his life to the Elements and now they had apparently decided that to take him away from his sister. It made no sense. He had always revered them and followed their leadings. Why would they lead him astray now?

 

At camp that night, Syler still had said nothing. He ate the food given to him in silence and didn't even notice that Havert was no longer with him. Instead, he was content to lie down on his bedroll and stare off at the stars. Havert came back later and set up his bedroll nearby. He whispered various rumors about their ultimate destination and what their futures would hold, but Syler didn't pay much attention. All of the rumors were just baseless worrying and Syler had no desire to comment on it.

 

"Are ya going to say anything?" Havert asked after several minutes.

 

"There isn't much to say," replied Syler.

 

"Ain't ya angry or somet'in? Many of these men are."

 

Syler shook his head in the dim firelight. "There is no reason to be angry. What was done was done and being angry about it won't help me."

 

"You are too accepting of things." There was a tinge of reproach flavoring Havert's words. "What happened to wanting to help Karusa? Ya gave up yer honor to watch over her, but what now, eh? Should you just give that all up 'cause some Easterner decides to yank us away?"

 

Syler let out a long sigh and allowed his shoulders to sag. "We tried fighting and failed. That tells me that either the Elements have abandoned us, they are weaker than the Way's gods, or the Elements have another plan for us that includes our being conquered. Either way, what is done is done."

 

"Listen to yourself! Just this morning, you were eager to go back to make sure Karusa would be safe, now ya sound like a whipped dog. Don't you still want to help your sister?"

 

"Of course I do," Syler said with a tiny bit of annoyance at the suggestion that he didn't. His friend knew him better than to think he would just give up helping her. "I would give anything to help her, but getting myself killed isn't going to do either of us any good."

 

Havert snorted in derision at that idea. "Ya have given up. Why ain't you willing to fight?"

 

"What point is there in fighting right now?" asked Syler in a dull, defeated voice. It was a question he had been wrestling with for hours while on the march. He knew that there was little chance of escape while they were marching and didn't want to waste the effort in considering it. However, after they arrived wherever they were going, more opportunities presented themselves. The Angvardi couldn't keep watch on them all forever. Perhaps when that time came, he would reconsider his options, but at this moment, resistance was hopeless.

 

"What do ya think we were doin' just yesterday!" exclaimed Havert in a barely restrained whisper. He immediately looked around to see if anyone took notice. When he was satisfied nobody did, he continued in a lower tone, "We were fightin' these Easterner bastards with everything we had. Thousands of us died tryin' ta stop them from ruling over us. Now, ya want to just give up and pretend none of that happened?"

 

"Of course not," snapped Syler, "but fighting now is not going to help things. Our King surrendered, remember? The Kingdom of the Sei no longer exists so what would you be fighting for?"

 

"Our freedoms, the ability to go home and live how we want!" Havert shot back.

 

With a sigh of exasperation, Syler said, "We can never go home and live how things once were because they are not. Whether we like it or not, the war is over and we are under Angvardi control now."

"I will never bow to no Angvardi," Havert said defiantly.

 

"Then what did you do before their priests last night?"

 

Even in the darkness, Syler could see his friend's eyes narrowing and his face hardening. It took several long moments for him to respond and when he did, there was a coldness in his voice that Syler had never heard before. "I did what I had ta in order to survive and fight another day."

 

"What do you mean, 'fight another day?'" Syler asked. For the first time, he started showing some interest in the conversation.

 

"Exactly what I said," Havert replied defiantly. "They may have won on the battlefield, but they haven't conquered us yet."

 

This alarmed him greatly. Syler might not have been paying much attention to things here, but he had been aware of some men grumbling about revenge and fighting on. "What are you getting into?"

 

"All I'm a sayin' is that not everyone is happy with this betrayal. Some of us don't intend on takin' it without a fight. It may not be now, but it will be soon."

 

"What are you going to do then? If our entire kingdom couldn't resist them, why do you think a few men on the way to a strange land can? It is pointless and you know it. You can fight them and likely get yourself killed or you can wait and see what the Elements will bring into your path."

 

"I don't follow the Elements anymore, Syler." Now there was definite reproach in the man's voice. "I took an oath, remember? Unlike some people, my word actually means something."

 

"Then how are you going to fight the Angvardi?"

 

Havert shrugged a little, "I haven't heard nothin' that says the Angvardi are the sole avatars of the Way."

 

This was very much unlike the man Syler knew. Havert had always been easy going and never held a grudge. He liked his freedoms, true, but Syler had never pictured him as vengeful or wanting to really fight. Havert had only joined the conscript company because he wanted adventure, not because he wanted to kill people. If he got involved in this, he was going to end up being forced to do some pretty hard things. Syler was no expert on fighting, but he reasoned that to fight an army that was occupying you, some very nasty things had to happen. This would be no honorable duel on an open field.

 

"You be careful then, Havert," he said at last. "I hope you don't get yourself into more trouble than you can handle."

 

With one final humph, Havert rolled over and said no more. Syler lay on his back and continued to look up at the stars even as he pondered what had happened to his friend. One of his traits that did remain intact was his eagerness to dive into whatever adventure or cause that caught his fancy. He always was quick to embrace some cause or ideal, even if it was typically something that allowed him to escape his chores and have fun. This trait had probably been what caused him to volunteer for the war.

 

Yet, this was an odd cause for him to embrace. Havert had never struck Syler as one who was prone to wrath, violence, or revenge. He was far more apt to simply shrug off offenses and continue on his way than to hold grudges. Now, he seemed eager to see fighting and to continue a war that was over. It wasn't the time for that and probably wouldn't be for many months or even years. Whatever happened yesterday during the battle had clearly changed the both of them, and Syler wasn't sure it was for the best for either.

[DarthBrendo]

This is good. A better insight into whats going on between them I think, especially at the beginning of this section.