“What makes you say that, Captain Tullis?” asked Legatus Yuran.
Arys took a reserved step forward. “These three legions that will arrive at the request of Rulven aren’t heading north. They’re heading south. You are right, Legatus. Until now, they would have exposed their supply lines if they went that far east. But three legions? They could have an entire legion patrol the roads and still have two legions to assault Lera. If Karzark takes Lera, they will have a stranglehold on the Yukone peninsula.”
“But they haven’t attempted to press that far east in decades. It’s the last region that the Euphyrian flag still flies, and it suits Karzark just fine. The Khasari have not bothered waging a war against the Yukone Alliance since the armies of Yukone retreated behind their walls. They’ve given no reason for an invasion. The only legitimate claim to the legacy of Euphyre cowers behind walls, and so long as they remain there, wider support of Euphyre remains unorganised and disparate. The resistance is as big as it can get. That is what they believe.”
Arys knew all this. Let the generals lead the armies, but the strategising…well, they could use some work. “They haven’t, but that’s because the Sons of the Phoenix have fought and harassed any such incursion to the point where it’s simply not viable for them to keep pressing. Jakkenmarch and Theran’s Lake are what happens when they push that far. But if these three legions clear out the Sons from around Rulven and head south, the Yukone Alliance will find itself cut off from the rest of the resistance. Where would the next borderland be? Would Akkad be the next Rulven? Lyreport the new base of the Khasari? Even if they think that the Sons do not fight for Yukone, they surely must know that they at least get nominal support. Being so close to Yukone, it would leave them no choice but to fight while they can. Then they will break the Alliance and see the eagle slain for good. The Sons would fight on for a while, but despair would win out. Now, Lera is the gateway to the Yukone peninsula. If it falls, Yukone is on borrowed time. As far as the Karzark generals are aware, Yukone represents the only unified Euphyrian force left to conquer. For now, maybe they are content with Yukone remaining behind Lera, but I do not think they expect them to remain defensive as they slowly engulf the rest of the country. I think they will pre-emptively strike before Yukone is ready.”
They all fell silent for a moment, all trying to process the problem that had just presented itself. Legatus Yuran was the first to speak. “Captain Tullis, I am appointing you commander of the Salencian Sons of the Phoenix. You are young and inexperienced, but we must use what cards Yelia has given us. We don’t know if that is their goal, but if it is indeed what they are aiming for, we cannot allow them to succeed. I need to leave for Lera as soon as preparations are made. If we make it there before the Khasari do, then we have a chance of holding the city, or at least force a siege. Weymar will harry them for all they are worth, buying time. If they can be defeated at Lera, we will be able to regain Lyreport and prevent a relief of Jakkenmarch. I just hope I don’t hear news of three legions running amok in the north while I am down south.”
Arys swallowed the thought. I hope so, too. “I will not fail you, sir.” He saluted the Legatus. He said he wouldn’t fail him, but he had no idea what he was doing, either.
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Rulven is a must-see destination for anyone who is on the east side of the Desari. It is humbling to look upon it’s titanic walls and stand in awe of what our ancestors were capable of, and of what we have lost. The feat of engineering to have created the citadel is something that the brightest of us scratch their heads at. Even after we surpassed them, freed ourselves from their yolk and took our futures into our own hands, one has to wonder to where we would be today if history travelled a different road. Turn the page and let’s take a tour through the famed citadel.
Kleaxe Rebereks, Guide to the New World
Though we conquered the Elders centuries ago, in many ways they still rule over us. Truth and myth blur together to create a cult of mysticism around the two. We have only just begun an age of exploration, and age of new knowledge and understanding, for as we reach out to new, ancient lands, therein shall lie a vast number of secrets and wonders waiting to be rediscovered.
Rhenias Tallasen
Rhen
Rhen woke up from a nightmare. Reilek had tracked them down and killed them all, and he had left him until last. He must have woken up rather loudly, for Kiern had also woken up. Dawn had not yet broken.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”
“Not much point. It’ll be dawn in an hour,” he said through a yawn, “Come on, get dressed. Let’s go for a walk. It’ll clear your head.”
Rhen contemplated arguing for a return to sleep but he was sure Reilek would be where he had left him in his dream. Perhaps some fresh air would be good after all. He put on his coat, finding it more inadequate as time went on; the chill in the wind was starting to really bite. Kiern was still in his simple one-layered black robe. How was he not freezing? He had to ask.
“Yaleans are tough,” Kiern replied with pride, manifesting itself as a smirk.
“Levi is Tyrellian and she still wraps up. And after seeing her fight, I’d say she’s tougher than you.”
“Probably,” he conceded without a fight, “And she knows that you were the one feeling down her top.”
“Yelia save me. There was a blade. Did you really need to tell her that?” Maybe he would be meeting Levi in his next nightmare instead.
“Hey, you had no problem leaving me out to dry about me interrogating her.” That was true.
“Yeah, I suppose so. Sorry.”
Kiern glanced away, the apology catching him off guard. He looked down as he finished putting on his boots. “Well, you saved my life that day. I wouldn’t let her kill you. Hurt, perhaps. Come on, let’s go.”
Unlike Mhir, the trading stations were open all through the night. Rulven was incalculably larger than Mhir, and the sheer volume of trade coming from several other towns and cities meant that people were coming and going at all hours. There was nightlife in Rulven where Mhir had none (save a drunken lout or two).
Rhen guessed there were two possible reasons. The first was that since this was occupied territory, there was a need for a heavy Khasari presence to patrol the city, especially at night. Therefore, the city was illuminated at great expense; torches and brazziers were a common sight along the streets (or at least the main street, since he was in an important area of Rulven).
The second was the number of vendors who continued doing business into the night. Many shop and stall keepers were busy purchasing their produce from the traders who had made the journey from whatever far-flung town or city they came from. Rhen wasn’t sure whether the Khasari patrols required illumination and therefore the traders conducted business at this hour, or whether it was because they did that the Khasari needed to keep an eye on them and patrol. Either way, it seemed to benefit all involved. He watched as a patrol of six Khasari stopped at a small stall and bought some hot roasted potatoes from an old woman bundled up in several layers of furs.
“I suppose I haven’t thanked you properly for saving my life that day,” said Kiern, looking straight ahead, “Thanks. She really would have killed me.”
They left through the main gate of the trade and customs office that Farrel had found rooms for them in. Thankfully there was naught but a breeze today, though the temperature was still bitterly cold. He tried thinking of the west side of the Desari. Warmth…
“Well, I couldn’t have done it left-handed. You reap what you sow and all that.” The memory of that day still made him shudder. It was a bad day when having your hand shattered was an act of kindness.
Kiern looked skywards as he tucked his arms. “Ha, thanking myself? If I convinced you to trust us earlier, there would have been no need for it. You wouldn’t have written the letter.”
“My friend was killed. I was taken prisone
r and paraded about taverns held by Euphyrian rebels who are fighting my countrymen. You being nicer to me would not have stopped me from writing that letter.” Why was he comforting Kiern? It was his own hand that now swung uselessly by his side.
“I guess you’re right. It was a lot to ask of you.”
As if to change the subject, Kiern pointed to an ancient looking building perched on a hill with several fires lit around it. It was the roof of the city. “Do you know what that building is?”
“No idea. Looks like a temple. We have time.”
“Why not?”
They turned a corner and began walking towards it up a time-worn staircase between rows of houses. Two recent patrons of a tavern came down the stairs. They too were wearing several layers, adding to their combined breadth. They were chuckling in Karzarki together, until one bumped into Rhen’s shoulder. He turned around and looked as if to say something to Rhen but quickly glanced at Kiern and decided that continuing walking was best.
“So,” Kiern continued, with a hint of caution, “what is it that has kept you here until now, then?”
Rhen had asked himself many times since coming to Rulven. “I set out from Mhir to find the…thing. I asked myself during the months I spent searching for it why I was looking for it. Money was part of it, but I think I wanted a reason to leave my previous life behind me. I could have left anytime but I had no idea what I’d do with myself. But finding it…well, it’s a great task that I haven’t had to think what comes next.”
Everything he said was the truth. He was just careful to leave certain parts unsaid.
“You hated your previous life?”
Rhen could see what Kiern was thinking. Oh, you poor merchant son, living your comfortable life. “Hate is too strong a word. I had no interest in inheriting my father’s business. Sure, I got to see the world more than most but at the end of the day, you’re peddling other people’s goods, making them richer, and you’re just in the middle, relying on them. You can get ambushed, robbed, killed and forgotten just like that.”
“I see,” he said, staring blankly ahead. Sometimes it was hard to tell what he was thinking, but it was easy to ascertain whether it was due to personal interest or professional interest. His inconsistency was the give-away. Kiern had a mask, and Rhen knew that he was learning this from Reisch. It was part of his training and not his nature. If something was of personal interest, all too often his face would betray what he was thinking. Therefore, until he perfected his role, opting to use the mask gave away that the topic was of professional interest. Exactly what, however, remained elusive, just like now.
“My turn now. Why do the…why do you seek the Caranaum?” he said, finishing in a whisper.
Kiern turned with a smile. “Ah, I knew you’d ask that eventually.”
“Of course. The Elsgard killed my friend over it.”
“That is true. In regard to that, I don’t know whether Reilek was acting in the Elsgard’s best interests, or Taeryen’s. He was the one who was tracking you and told us you were out searching for it. The reason we seek the shield is simply because we cannot afford to have Karzark obtain it.”
Well, that he knew. Reilek had said as much when he was about to execute him. “Why mustn’t Karzark obtain it? Why is it that Yalea can obtain it and Karzark cannot?”
“Karzark believes in The Sin: the belief that Yelia tore the world asunder and that somehow meant she had forgiven the Youngers and encouraged us to inherit Cerenea by proving which one of us is strongest. Is that correct?”
He remembered how the last time they had a similar conversation went. Rhen would do his part to make it more civil this time, as long as the favour was returned.
“Cerenea is one land divided into four entities. Whenever two people, parties, governments, or whoever claim to rule, there is conflict. Even Pyresia and Galacia fought many battles in their time. If we truly want to experience a lasting peace, then we must be united. It sounds easy, but no ruler wants to simply give up their power. Therefore, unfortunate though it may be, we see a war to end wars a necessity. That is how I view The Sin.”
“So, what you’re saying is, yes, that is correct?”
There were more people around the building now that they were in seeing distance. “…Yes.”
“If Karzark has the Khasari looking for the Dawn Shield, then it undeniably must contain a power that would help further their cause of conquering all of Cerenea. Now, for you, a Karzarki, that doesn’t sound too bad. But imagine if you were Yalean, or Taeryen, or Euparyen. You would not see it the same way, as you implied.”
Of course, Rhen had thought about this before. That’s why he said it was a necessity, not a pleasure. “Then, what does Yalea propose to do? Is Yalea happy to forever have the land divided?”
“No. That we can agree on. As Reisch told you before, we simply believe that it is Yelia who should unite us, who should rule us.”
“I remember being told that. But how are you going to get Yelia to rule for you? Dare I say, through the ambitious voice of man, who would wield her power for their own designs?” A gust of wind found its way through Rhen’s clothes as they turned a corner. He needed to get some warmer clothes. They stood at the feet of a giant statue. It had snuck up on them.
“Ah, the Temple of Yelia. Of course. Look at the size of this statue. It’s huge.” There was no denying it. It was the biggest statue of Yelia Rhen had ever seen. Brazers were lit all around her, causing flickering shadows over the pillars that held up the highest ceiling in all of Rulven. There were two priests who were mid-chant, their minds far away from the physical realm. Rhen could barely understand any of the words that hummed from their mouths, and he figured that the holy words were Pyresian. The temple was built in their golden age, and the Temple of Yelia held priests more learned than the ones who resided in the towns, and who possessed more authority and wisdom. The priests of Mhir and other towns that fell under Karzark’s rule were appointed by Karzark itself and naturally professed The Sin. Even though most were lettered, Pyresian was a dead and foreign language to the men who lived on the west side of the Desari. Here, the Euphyrians spoke the language that was derived from the old language.
One of the priests looked at Rhen, and Rhen realised he had been staring whilst lost in thought. He turned back to the statue. Yelia looked slightly different to her portrayal in Karzark. This caught his attention, for all statues of Yelia in Karzark had the same design – save those from the Euphyrian Territories, which also had one design. She still had her amethyst necklace and veil over her hair, but he was quick to notice the distinct lack of a sword in her right hand. It was sheathed around her waist. In its stead, she wielded a spear and shield, though her faced was turned to the side, as if reluctant to have picked up arms.
Dawn was breaking behind the statue. Rhen supposed that was why there was a crowd of faithful gathering: religious symbolism. Their daily prayer would soon be held.
“This isn’t Euphyrian, is it Rhen?” Kiern said as he was taking in the awe of the statue.
“Definitely Pyresian. The whole temple complex is, though I don’t think that’s a mystery to anyone. In Pyre’s time, Rulven was said to have the biggest temple. I’m guessing this is it. Let’s walk around. Something this old must have some secrets.”
“Sure, but we must head back soon. Reisch wants to discuss something with me.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Kiern, if your daggers were your lies, you’d have stabbed yourself in the foot instead of nailing me to a tree. Still, you don’t want to talk about it, so I won’t ask again.”
“Heh, it’s best if you don’t.” He couldn’t deny he felt a little bit hurt. He had chosen to remain with them, after all.
They walked around the complex, supposedly looking for anything that stuck out, but in reality, they were both just admiring the architecture of this monument to Yelia. It dwarfed any temple back in Karzark. There was much mor
e to the complex underneath, but the entrances were on the north side of the hill it had been built upon. The gentle slope of the south side had allowed for residential buildings to be built quite close, and so the temple only had a short staircase to the top.
“You didn’t answer my question back then by the way,” said Rhen, remembering.
Kiern didn’t break his stride, taking an interest in one of the supporting pillars. “About having Yelia rule, and not by men? That would indeed be a problem, along with being awfully close to following The Sin. No, men cannot be trusted. We will bring Yelia back to Cerenea. We will surrender all Caranaum to her; relinquish the artefacts that gave rise to the kingdoms of man. Yelia will rule once more.”
Rhen had just learnt of the goal of Yalea Aranth. He let that sink in for a moment. It was an answer given just like someone asking how much a loaf of bread was. But here stood Rhenias Tallesen, probably the sole Karzarki to know the aspirations of another Younger.
Perhaps it was not a good idea to have burdened himself with this knowledge. Kiern had obviously placed a great deal of trust in Rhen. That, or Rhen faced certain death. He was leaning towards, and hoping for, the former.
“Why would you tell me this, yet not what you will discuss with Reisch today?” He asked, not sure about wanting to hear the answer.
“Because I trust that you like me, and yourself enough to not put me through the pain of doing the horrible things I would have to do to you if you told anyone else.” Kiern’s tight-lipped smile was the least joyous smile Rhen had ever seen. Well, technically that was the former.
In the six hundred years that had passed since the Conquest, Karzark, Tyrellia, Yalea and Euphyria had lost all contact with each other. Recent years had made their ancestors look incompetent, with Karzark conquering and settling in the Euphyrian Territories, the Elsgard crossing Mishval’s Schism, and recently discovering Tyrellia’s Black Wolves hunted this far south. It had annoyed him on more than one occasion, when a Khasari would enter a tavern on the east side of the Desari and brag that they had crossed so easily where for six hundred years our ancestors had failed.
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