by Ink Bamboo
Magnus decided not to pay attention to their situation anymore. Few people could be a threat to an entourage of their strength inside the Kingdom of Nyx. The Dusk of the Gods had affected this side of the continent more so than others.
Despite the amount of territory they possessed, the Kingdom of Nyx had only a few branches belonging to different churches, most of which didn’t have enough resources to be considered a true threat. To a man like Magnus the implications were clear. The headquarters behind these churches placed little value in the future development of Nyx.
This only reaffirmed Magnus’s doubts regarding their current mission. Why do we have to take control of this backwater kingdom?
Alas, Magnus lacked both the authority and power to get that information. He had no choice but to carry on with this mission for his granddaughter’s sake. If only I could convince Erin somehow, he thought.
The fact that she swore an oath was half of the problem. Each oath and trial she fulfilled in the church’s name would solidify the brand left on her by Alexandra, the Goddess of Light. If he didn’t change the course of her future actions, the time would come where there would be no more chance to save her. Only one course of action would be left to him then — despair.
“Sir!” said one of the paladin candidates, breaking Magnus away from his thoughts. “It seems like they found something ahead.”
That wasn’t long, thought Magnus. He brought his head up only to see one of the paladins riding back in a hurry. The fact that he carried no wounds on his body revealed that the situation wasn’t as urgent as he made it seem by his rush.
“Speak. What is it that you saw?” ordered Magnus. He could scan the area with magic, but decided against it because of Erin’s request.
“Sir, a small convoy is ahead of us. I don’t think they’ve seen us,” said the initiate. “It’s probably a training expedition for the rebel forces of Nyx. Should we make contact?”
Magnus pondered for a moment before nodding. “Affirmative, I will lead the discussions.”
After hearing his words, the initiate paladins replaced their aloof behavior with the military-borne discipline they had been trained in by the church. As public representatives of the church, they had to reflect an honorable and dignified appearance.
That being the case, they quietly followed after Magnus as he approached the team of rebels.
A disheveled group of individuals with rusted gear but strong complexions rose their gazes to meet them in the distance. The man at the head of the party rose his fist, signalling those behind him to come to a stop.
“Halt!” he ordered. His tone of voice was as impressive as his demeanor. The bronze color of his skin told stories of his daily training while his lack of hair served to consolidate the indifference he held towards his own appearance.
The same, however, couldn’t be said about his gear. It was polished to perfection, treated with utmost care despite what little monetary value it had. Unlike the white armor adorned with golden trims used by the Church of Light, his armor seemed to focus on simplicity and efficiency. A combination of leather and brilliant iron chainmail evidenced his focus on agility and his trust on the offensive.
Facing them in the distance, Magnus could be seen with a smile on his face. Interesting, so even he joined the rebels.
He had initially carried low expectations towards the rebel army, believing most of the military power was still held by the kingdom’s hands. But now, seeing a known commander from their neighboring country without his usual insignias had proved him wrong. It was enough for him to realize the political situation had changed more than he was aware of in the past few years. Even he was ignorant at times.
While he was still fifty feet away, Magnus raised his hand. The universal stop sign placed his troops and the rebels’ face to face.
The bronze skinned leader separated from his party, speaking in a loud voice. “State your purpose, mage. You’re far too distant from the church’s lands.”
Magnus smiled, offering no answer but a question of his own instead. “I never imagined the former commander of Nyx’s first division would join the rebellion. Is the situation in your kingdom this bad, Arkus?”
“Do not believe for a second my blade won’t caress your skin, Magnus! Not even those children behind you will be of help.”
Magnus scoffed, unwilling to entertain the man’s desire for a fight. “We’re not here to fight, Arkus. The church is willing to help the rebels in your time of need, we’re just here as peace emissaries.”
Arkus laughed. He wouldn’t take Magnus’s words at face value. Despite no longer belonging to Nyx’s military, he hadn’t let go of his old grudges. Besides, the man before him was just as much of a traitor as he was.
“Is that it? I never expected you to surrender before your own invaders, Magnus. To join the church after they murdered your old comrades, that is truly the attitude of a coward. How do you expect me to take the word of a turncoat like you?”
Magnus frowned, suppressing his anger only by remembering the second part of his mission. As far as the public was concerned, he was nothing but a traitor to his former comrades. Only some members of the church knew the truth behind his submission. He was willing to carry this burden for Erin’s sake.
That, however, didn’t mean he would let someone trample over him. “You’re in no position to be selective, Arkus. The church has sent our convoy with sincerity. We only wish to talk.” Only by taking the reins of the conversations would he be able to steer it to his benefit.
Arkus was taken aback by Magnus’s composure. Rumors had always described him as someone with an explosive temperament. Even the stories of his old comrades had echoed such a belief. Perhaps age had brought a change of heart to the old mage.
I might have gone overboard, thought Arkus, realizing his tone had been unnecessarily wary. Am I not a traitor as well?
“Forgive my earlier comment, Magnus. I do, however, wish to see what your church’s sincerity looks like before we continue this conversation.”
It was now Magnus’s turn to be taken aback. Custom dictated for emissaries to bring gifts when visiting a kingdom. The fact that his convoy had brought none was the same as telling the rebels they didn’t recognize the legitimacy of their cause. He thought about weaving a set of lies, but before he could do so, Erin came to his side.
“My presence here should be enough sincerity,” said Erin, raising her voice. “I am my lady’s Chosen, Erin of the Sun, successor to Amat of the Sun. I speak not my words, but the will of my goddess. My eyes are her eyes and my voice is her voice. We’re here to lend you a hand in breaking the tyranny and suffering your kingdom is going through.”
Arkus’s eyes widened when he heard Erin’s words. A Chosen? That was a mythical existence to most people. Even an experienced military man like himself had grown up listening to fables of the Chosens’ many prowesses, never seeing them with his own eyes. Their words reflected their god’s stance. Those they pointed their swords at had no fate but death.
This might be worth considering, he thought, carefully examining Erin.
If this girl was really who she claimed to be, then their victory was assured. Their legitimacy would be respected even by members of the allied churches inside Nyx’s capital, consolidating the rule of their new government. Arkus’s attitude instantly took a turn as he realized the possibilities brought by Magnus’s previous offer.
“Magnus, this news are too sudden,” said Arkus. “We didn’t know of your arrival, and as you can see, we’re in the middle of a training exercise. Will these troops be enough to serve as your escorts?”
Magnus smiled, taking pride in his granddaughter’s flexible mind. He was impressed by her machinations. If she could one day achieve the same with her own identity and not the Church’s, then he would be at ease.
“It will suffice for now,” said Magnus, bringing his horse close to Arkus’s. “It’s our fault for coming without previous discussions.”
Arkus extended his hand towards Magnus’s, firmly clasping it with his own. “Follow us then, Magnus. We will continue this conversation back with the council.”
Chapter 07
Politics.
A room normally embraced by chaos bore the weight of silence for the first time. Four men and one woman sat facing each other without speaking a word. Their gazes alone were enough to convey the differences in their thoughts. Hope, disdain, and reluctance were all reflected in their eyes.
They were the council in charge of leading the rebels. A small group of people with vested interests in the birth of a new ruler. Driven by their interests, they had formed their alliance, and with it, a movement that gave the current royal family an endless stream of headaches.
However, this same group was now burdened by silence. It all started when one of them delivered the report held in their hands. A letter of introduction from Magnus Rendheart, representative to the Church of Light’s interests.
Facing the reticence in the room, one of them broke the chains of silence. His chest heaved in anger and his brows locked against each other. He couldn’t take the other council members’ stance anymore.
“Madness! I can’t believe you all are even considering this,” he said. His fists were clenched so hard his nails were drawing blood from his hand. “Are you going senile? Are you this desperate to put an end to this war?”
An older man next to him gave him a wry smile, using his hands to motion him to breathe. “Calm down, Nolan. We’ve had our differences in the past, but I think we can all agree this is at least worth considering, right?”
“I can’t help but agree with him, Nolan,” said a woman sitting across from the old man. “The church’s support could legitimize our cause even further in the eyes of the populace. It could give us the final push we need to overthrow the royal family. With them, we might win this war with fewer casualties.”
“You shouldn’t even be here, Katherine,” said Nolan. His eyes were becoming bloodshot because of his anger. “Your husband earned his place here, not you.”
“I’ve earned my place as much as anybody else in this table,” answered Katherine, anger taking over her previous eloquence. “Don’t forget it is my money supplying the food you eat every day.”
“Your dead husband’s money,” corrected Nolan. His eyes made no effort to hide the disdain he felt for the woman in front of him. “Not that it would be worth anything without the use of my channels to spend it.”
Their bickering came from the difference in their natures. Like water and oil, both of them refused to listen to each other’s views. That being said, the others in the room were not fond of their childish behavior. They had more pressing matters to attend to.
“Enough!”
A thunderous voice came from the man sitting at the head of the table. His cold voice drew the bickering rivals’ gaze. Neither of them dared to continue once warned by their leader.
“Remember who our true enemy is.”
Katherine used a small fan to hide her face as she regarded the owner of the voice. She was slightly irked that no one had her back earlier. Thus, she planned to stir some more chaos in her benefit.
“Very well,” she said. “I would like to know your stance on the matter, Richard. It’s not this often that we see you think in silence for so long.”
Richard, the man who had spoken before to calm both Katherine and Nolan, turned to look at his vassals. No, calling them vassals would have been wrong. Theirs was a relation of equals. One in which he held just a slight advantage above the other since Arkus was indisputably on his side.
He traced his silver hair with his right hand until it came to rest on his neck. It revealed two sharp eyes that looked at Katherine with no intention to be part of her games.
“I won’t take a stance until we have all the facts, and neither should you,” he said. “I think we should speak with the church’s envoys before we discuss this any further.”
The old man from before nodded his head and so did Arkus, who sat at Richard’s right side. Waiting was always an option. They didn’t have to force themselves to accept something without first acquiring more information.
Nolan, however, seemed dissatisfied with the result. His puncturing gaze couldn’t help but shoot towards Arkus, the man responsible for delivering the report.
If not for him, I wouldn’t have to deal with the church’s hounds once more, he thought. The misplaced guilt was natural for someone of his origins.
Richard ignored the blatant air of disagreement coming from Nolan. His gaze instead turned towards Arkus, examining the stern and disciplined disposition of his subordinate before asking, “Where are our guests from the church, commander?”
Arkus faced him and immediately reported, “We took them to the empty tents in the outer perimeter, sir. My adjutant is currently watching over them. However, I think they do come with sincerity. The young girl seems to be speaking the truth about her identity as a Chosen. I doubt there are many people her age with that kind of aura around them.”
Richard sighed, pleasantly surprised by Arkus’s evaluation. It would be marvelous if the offer from the church was truly as honest as they made it seem. With it, they might finally put an end to the stagnating war against the ruling branch of the royal family.
No one said being a leader was easy.
Richard combed his silver hair with his fingers, looking at the rest of the people sitting with him. The most imposing amongst them was Arkus, former commander of Nyx’s army. His meticulousness was only surpassed by his love towards tempering his body. A man who had achieved the third rank through battle and training. He was the strongest powerhouse amongst their ranks.
Looking at the rest with disdain was Nolan, a shrewd man with deep connections to the underworld. His hatred for the church could be described as his own fear towards the enactment of the moral law. It was his connections to different black markets that ensured the channels used by the rebels to gather their supplies.
Next to Nolan sat Jan, a former strategist for the royal family. His daughter had been raped by the prince one night of drunken stupor, causing him to hold a grudge deep within his heart. When he confronted the king about it, the King dismissed his claims as his own daughter’s attempt to seduce the prince. He was furious, realizing his own loyalty held no value to the royal family. In anger, he used his authority to secretly form a squad with many dissenting soldiers, guiding them to desert and join the rebels.
Against them sat Katherine, a middle-aged woman with a true love for the commoners. She and her husband had created one of the biggest merchant companies of the kingdom but were forced to run away after the royal family coveted their possessions. Both her and her deceased husband had financed the rebels’ operations over the past decade.
They formed the political and financial core of the rebels, legitimized by Richard’s presence. He was none other than an illegitimate child of the royal family, a half-brother to the current ruler. In order to take the throne from the royal family’s hands, they would need someone like him to appease the populace during a transition.
As someone who could threaten the structure of power in the Kingdom, he had been banished, never to return. That was their mistake. Because of that, he had experienced the troubles of the commoners, the famine of those banished to the northern lands.
These new experiences, however, didn’t feed his despair. No, they fed his ambition. The fire of rage rose and formed a new movement to give him what was rightfully his. Helping the populace was only a tool to achieve his ambition. Not that anybody at their table disagreed with that thought.
“Arkus, how are the troops doing?” asked Richard. It was important for him to be up-to-date with every piece of information regarding the rebel army.
Arkus pondered for a moment before answering, “I’ve split the newcomers into three teams, sir. The most impressive is still team number three.”
“Is it because of that kid
you told me about earlier?” asked the silver-haired Richard.
“Yes, sir. I’ve never seen someone with that much talent. Was he not here, I’d suspect him to be a church’s Chosen.”
“Nonsense,” said Nolan. He wasn’t convinced a simple recruit was worth so much praise. “You always compliment every young man willing to join our cause.”
“You haven’t seen him during training,” refuted Arkus. “His fighting spirit is above any other recruit I’ve ever seen, held back only by his youth. I wouldn’t dare to claim I worked that hard at his age.”
Jan pondered for a moment before asking, “What do we know about him? Is his background clean?”
“It’s unclear,” said Nolan. He was thinking back to a report made by his subordinates. “I’ve already sent people to dig into his past, but very little information can be found about him. It doesn’t look like he socializes much with the rest of the recruits.”
Jan looked at him with a puzzled gaze. “Please elaborate.”
Nolan frowned as he recollected his subordinate’s report.
“This kid follows an almost mechanical routine every day,” he said. “After waking up, he will always go for a run in the outer perimeter. After being done, he will eat and leave to train immediately after. It reminds me of a certain muscle freak amongst us.”
Katherine laughed, stealing a look towards Arkus’s arms. Ignoring her, Nolan continued.
“We also know that like many of us, he is a wanted man in Nyx. We are ignorant about the reason, however. This seems to be something originating from even before he joined us.”
Jan closed his eyes, slowly massaging them before he spoke. “It’s strange for someone that young to be a wanted man.”
“Intriguing, indeed,” said Richard. He had heard of many political conspiracies carried on by his brother and the noble families — this situation could very well be one of them.