Fallen Ambitions

by Vann, Eric J.

  Enemy broke camp

  Lucius stared at the words, suddenly feeling weak. “When did we receive this?” he asked, failing to hide his rising panic.

  “A few moments before I came here,” Hagen replied. “Your brother, the High Commander, was rushing to tell you, but I stopped him and took the task for myself.”

  “Where is my brother? We need to discuss this.”

  “He left the capital for Bastion with all haste. He will be able to better coordinate with his marshals there.”

  Lucius sank into the chair. The sound of his own breathing was all he could hear. It was really happening. They were going to war. He swallowed. “How… How many?”

  Hagen watched him with no small amount of pity before producing another ribbon of paper. This one was crumpled and looked older than the other. “The last count was sixty-five thousand, along with an estimated two hundred and fifty Magitech cannons, and one hundred and twenty Cloud Knights.”

  So many, thought Lucius. Too many. Even if he ignored the Cloud Knights, who alone could cause havoc in his kingdom, two hundred and fifty Magitech cannons was a number even the Ejani would find threatening. In what only could be a cruel state of affairs, Maiv, which had a surplus of fire crystals—one of the few resources it could boast about—had only six Magitech cannons in its entire army. It was as if his faction had an unlimited supply of arrows, but only a single bow to utilize them with.

  With the draft in place, Lucius had no doubt his faction could field a larger army, but only a small percentage of them would be trained soldiers. Those sixty-five thousand the Jannatin fielded would all be career soldiers. They lived for war and trained for it even when there was none to pursue, and used their skill points on martial skills. Maiv had never had a period in its existence where its people could afford to do such a thing in large enough numbers. They needed to use their skills on professions such as agriculture to simply survive.

  Individually, it was fair to conclude each one of the Jannatin soldiers were a match for two or perhaps three of his own, but that wasn’t how they would fight them. No, they would fight them as a unit. When in formation, the Jannatin armies with their impenetrable tower shields, long spears, and repeating crossbows were a meat grinder.

  The report did not mention any weavers, but from what he knew of the Jannatins, there would be at least be a few divisions of light, nature and necrotic weavers mixed in. All in all, it was a hopeless match.

  “Your Majesty?”

  “Yes? Yes, Hagen,” Lucius replied, his focus still drifting.

  “I need you to approve these orders before I send them out,” his minister said, passing him a few papers.

  Lucius read through the first, an order for all the lords of Maiv to raise their banners and levy their armies. He nodded absently, his thoughts still trying to absorb the absolute carnage about to engulf his kingdom. But his eyes narrowed as he read the second order. “You want to put the garrison on high alert, here in Golan?”

  Hagen nodded. “Both Interior Minister Aden and I agree that the capital is at risk.”

  “At risk? How so? It’s impossible for even the Jannatins to get here so fast with their armies.”

  “Not armies. There has been a flood of chatter and movement in the back channels and criminal organizations,” Hagen replied as he struggled to get to his feet.

  Lucius stood and helped him up.

  “Thank you,” the old minister said, rearranging his coat before continuing. “Almost all the known Jannatin spies we were keeping an eye on have disappeared, too.”

  Lucius shook his head, understanding dawning. “They wouldn’t dare stoop so low.”

  Hagen responded with a subdued smile. “You know they would, and have in the past.”

  “We don’t kno—”

  “We do,” the Foreign Minister interrupted. That alone left Lucius at a loss for words. The old man had never interrupted him before, no matter how much they disagreed. Hagen sighed. “Queen Phea drank from a glass meant for you, meant to kill you.” He placed a gentle hand on Lucius’s shoulder. “I know that fact has been eating away at you for so long, which is why no one has contradicted you openly. You and I both know who was behind it, even if you do not wish it so.”

  Lucius felt a fire begin to burn within him, the very thought of the Jannatin Black Coats making him want to strike out at something. But seeing the old man’s face, the way he looked at him, the sadness in his eyes… Lucius let his anger melt away. “What do you suggest I do?” he asked, his voice low.

  “As you were planning to,” Hagen replied, reaching to hold both of Lucius’ hands. “Take the princess and go to the temple. Not even the Black Coats would dare do anything inside.”

  “You are asking me to hide? To watch from the temple as my faction falls apart around me?”

  Hagen shook his head. “I am asking you to survive, your Majesty. Survive long enough to be there, to lead this faction if by the greatest of miracles it survives the coming storm.”

  “And you? The others? What about them?”

  “We will be protected by the Royal Guard. Worry not. Go—your daughter has been waiting for some time now.”

  Hagen let go of his hands, and Lucius stared as his old friend and longest serving officer took slow, unsteady steps out of the garden. Lucius cupped a red rose with his hand, his finger tracing the layers of petals which gave it its striking shape. Then he plucked the rose from its stem. “Phea,” he whispered. “I promise you this: even if my kingdom falls, I will keep her safe.”

  * * *

  It seemed to take an age before the horses and carriage were ready, and Lucius felt his tension grow. When they finally set off, he sat across from his daughter, who had changed into a short red satin dress that barely fell past her knees.

  “Are you going to tell me why our escort is twice the normal size?” she asked, causing Lucius to blink and look away from the curtained windows as the carriage bobbed its way down the busy Petal Road.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re wearing that face, your worry face,” she said with a smile.

  “I do not have a worry face,” Lucius replied, somewhat defensively.

  His daughter raised an eyebrow and the king felt his face heat up.

  “Did you really have to wear something so short?” he asked. It was the first thing that came to mind, and he almost immediately regretted it.

  “Really? That’s what you want to discuss, father?”

  “No, that wasn’t what I meant—” he replied, as a series of distant popping noises came from outside. It sounded like they were coming from behind them, from the castle. Lucius was just about to pull the curtain back when his daughter asked, “Do you really think Dawn might be there? Last I saw her was years ago.”

  Lucius hesitated. In truth, he did not know. She was a divinity’s daughter, after all, an extremely rare existence. Lady Adara might have taken her to her place of power. “Dawn is young,” he said cautiously. “Their race matures far slower than we humans. It has been years since you saw her, but to us she will still look and act like a child.” He smiled, trying to sound cheerful. “Lady Dawn was given stewardship of her mother’s temple, so if she is in the city, she will be there.”

  Another series of pops from outside. This time, they came from the north, where most of the faction-related functions were administered. Lucius pulled the sleeves of his right hand back as he felt the heat of his faction mark rise. He noticed his daughter glance at her wrist too before he focused to bring up the notification. His eyes opened wide as the runes began to manifest before him.

  Officer Position, Finance Minister is no longer occupied.

  Less than a moment later another string of gray runes formed.

  Officer Position, Interior Minister is no longer occupied.

  Warning, faction has recently lost one or more major officer positions. A grace period of four weeks will be provided to re-fill them before their contribution to the factio
n level will be lost.

  Warning, estimated loss of rating may cause significant downsizing of faction utility, including the loss of faction charters and roles.

  “Father,” Lucienne said, her voice low and fearful, and that one word pierced through him like a lance. He heard the Royal Guards begin to call to one another, and the carriage shook as it started to gain speed. His daughter grabbed a handrail before another series of popping noises sounded from what Lucius could only again assume was the castle.

  Officer Position, Foreign Minister is no longer occupied.

  Deputy Foreign Minister has assumed the role of Foreign Minister.

  “Hagen,” Lucius whispered, but before he could do anything else, absolute mayhem broke out as panicked screams came from all directions. He couldn’t see what was going on outside, but by the sounds alone, the fear was palpable. Lucienne pulled the curtain open on her side.

  “Lucienne! What are you doing, close that no—”

  A sound ripped through the terrified screams. His daughter looked up and even though she didn’t say a word, he could tell—no, feel—the terror radiating from her.

  The ear-shattering shriek was something he had hoped never to hear, at least not from so close to the source. He pulled his own curtain aside and his jaw fell open as a massive feathered bird, its plumage pale blue and white, glided overhead, its shadow engulfing their section of the Petal Road as it did.

  “Cloud-Hawk,” Lucius breathed.

  People ran for cover and Lucius only had a moment to witness the smoke rising from the eastern side of his capital before another shriek sounded from above. He looked up and found to his shock the hawk staring back at him, its massive wings pumping to keep it hovering in place above their carriage. A man was saddled to its back, and he reached now for an oversized quiver and pulled out what looked to be a spear. The man and the spear were puny in comparison the mighty beast, but Lucius knew of the danger—he knew it in every fiber of his being.

  The Cloud Knight hoisted his spear and held it over his shoulder before drawing his arm back to unleash it in their direction. Lucius could see his Royal Guard loosing arrows and Fireballs at the Cloud-Hawk, but it did not react to them. The closest Royal Guard—which he recognized as his Captain of the Guard—threw a Heat Shield in the path of the spear as it hurtled toward the ground, but the spear broke through the spell as if it simply wasn’t there. It whistled as it fell, and just before it struck the ground, Lucius pulled his daughter to the floor of the carriage, ignoring her cry as he positioned his body above hers.

  The explosion flung the heavily reinforced carriage into the air, the cries of the horses and guards ringing in his ear. Lucius held on to his daughter as his back was slammed against the ceiling, his bones crunching with the force involved. Everything was a blur as the carriage hit the ground and rolled over and over again. His head smashed against the door and it swung open, throwing them both out onto the smooth white rock of Petal Road. Gray runes appeared as he tumbled.

  Warning, you have sustained a severe injury!

  He rolled to a stop, but everything was black, and all he could hear was that incessant ringing. He tried to find his bearings, but no matter how hard he tried, he kept losing his balance. “Lucienne!” he screamed, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. He had lost his grip on her when they were thrown from the carriage.

  “Lucienne!” he screamed again, before coughing up a gob of blood. A stinging pain suddenly made itself known and Lucius ran his hands over his left side, feeling his way around the piece of wood which pierced him. Another shriek rattled his bones, followed by another explosion. It was far enough away that he was safe, but he could still feel the rushing air and heat. His faction mark again began to heat up and even in his blinded state, gray runes formed.

  Officer Position, Captain of the Guard is no longer occupied.

  He let out a sigh of relief—not his daughter. Her safety was all he could think about right now. Thankfully, his vision had begun to clear and the ringing was replaced by noises he would have only expected to hear in the middle of a battlefield: screams of pain, the clang of clashing weapons and the roaring of uncontrolled fires. He stood, finally able to take account of what was happening.

  Black plumes of smoke rose from the castle, his home, as licks of flame showed from the many windows of the governmental and residential wings. The soot was turning the skies gray and making breathing difficult. Still dizzy, Lucius glanced to one side, then the other. There were people fleeing as invading men mercilessly cut into them with their swords and daggers. He saw another raise and aim a crossbow at a young man on the ground. The boy had his hands raised, fear in his eyes… but that didn’t stop the man from shooting him at point blank range.

  Someone screamed, and Lucius turned just in time to duck under a sword swing. He sidestepped and grabbed his attacker’s hands, disarming him before twisting and stabbing the blade through the man’s back. “Jannatin dog,” he hissed into the man’s ear as he watched the life leave him. Lucius grabbed the shard of wood which protruded from his side and pulled. The accompanying pain dropped him to the ground, where he took long deep breaths. Blood poured from the wound, but he tried his best to focus. “Second Wind,” he muttered, and his body pulsed with energy, the flesh around and within his wounds beginning to itch as it knitted itself back together.

  Lucius—like everyone else in his family—was a fire weaver, but his vessel was too small to enable him to actually weave spells in any effective manner without risking his death in the process. But he could still use what little mana he had at his disposal to power a few martial skills. Even then, however, the accelerated healing only focused on the most dangerous injuries first. The other bruises, scraps and aches remained.

  “Your Majesty.” A Royal Guard riding a horse pulled on his reigns and stopped beside Lucius before promptly dismounting. “Take my horse, you must get to the temple.”

  “Where is my daughter?” Lucius asked, his eyes scanning the ground, the pools of blood and the many bodies littered about. Many of the citizens were now armed with practically anything they could get their hands on, he saw—kitchen knives, pots, and sticks—and they were using their numbers to mob anyone they thought was an enemy.

  “I will find her, you have to go,” the Royal Guard said as he brought the horse around.

  “No! I will not go without her.” Lucius looked up and counted three Cloud Knights flying between the plumes of smokes in the sky above his capital. “Why isn’t the shield activated yet?”

  “I don’t know,” the Royal Guard replied, but Lucius didn’t hear. He had found his daughter.

  Her red dress was in tatters and black streaks ran across it. Blood streamed down the side of her head as she held her hands out in front of her. They glowed, red mist flowing from them and into a symbol before they flared into a Fireball which she threw at something—or someone—he could not see.

  “Lucienne!” he bellowed as he sprinted to her, the Royal Guard mounting his horse again to protect his rear.

  He could hear how labored her breathing had become as she gazed around, frantically searching for threats. The use of her mana had drained her. Their eyes met and he could see the relief wash over her—she had been worried about him just as much as he was about her. But then her eyes opened wide as they drifted upward. “Look out,” she cried, crimson mana bursting from her hands as she prepared another spell.

  Lucius noticed the shadow and turned just in time for the massive clawed hand of the Cloud-Hawk to smash into him as it landed. He flew a few feet into the air and smashed his shoulder into the side of a wagon, the pain and crack of breaking bones causing him to gasp aloud.

  He opened his eyes and watched in horror as his daughter lobbed fireball after fireball at the massive bird until she collapsed to her knees. The hawk screeched, unfazed by her spells as it began to heft its considerable weight around to face her.

  “No!” Lucius bellowed, and ignored the wretched pain
as he ran headlong at it. He had dropped his sword at some point, but that didn’t matter—he had to grab the damn thing’s attention. “I am who you want!” he cried out.

  The Cloud Knight pulled on the hawk’s reins, wheeling it back around to face the king. As he did so, Lucius spotted the Royal Guard who had come to his aid—the man was on the ground, hurt but still able to move. Their eyes met before Lucius glanced at his daughter. The guard stared at him, painfully undecided, before nodding and lurching forward in the direction of Lucienne. Grabbing her around her waist, despite her protests, the guard hefted her onto the horse and leapt up behind her.

  Lucius felt a weight lift from his shoulders, as the horse galloped rapidly in the direction of the temple—the only place in his capital which still looked untouched. He turned back to see the Cloud-Hawk as it slowly advanced on him. The other citizens had already evacuated this part of the road, fleeing the moment the hawk had landed.

  Lucius was left alone with it and its rider. He raised his fists, not knowing what else to do.

  Just then, five bright beams of red light shot out of five towers along the outer and inner walls of the city. They all met with a resounding bang high in the air, far above the center of the capital, before a circular field began to spread outwards from the point of contact. It was slow, and would take several minutes to actually encompass the city, but one of the hawks was caught by surprise and flew too close. It burst into flames. The bird screeched and spun in the air as the immense heat of the barrier cooked it alive.

  Lucius laughed wildly. Finally, the city’s defenses had been activated. Once the city was fully covered, this would be over. “You better fly off now,” he cried, hoping the Cloud Knight could hear him. “Or you’ll be grounded or cooked like your friend there!”

  The knight leaned out above the Cloud-Hawk’s head, his entire face covered by a helm, apart from a narrow slit along the eyeline. He pointed a gauntleted finger at Lucius.

  And the hawk charged.