Reign of Phyre

by Nicholas Cooper

  “The moral being that man needs to learn to forgive. If we continue our quest for power at the expense of our fellow man, for all our lessons, the past 600 years, all the wisdom we have gained will be for nought. There is no future there. However, therein lies the temptation and the subsequent error of judgement that befell our brethren in the west. They saw what they wanted to see and what seemed the clearest path: that is to look to the future.”

  He poured another glass for Kiern. “But there lies their mistake. In so doggedly pursuing the future, they looked past what could enable it. Reflection. Our goddess left us in the past, and she will not return to a future where man’s foolery, our hubris, remains buried and forgotten.”

  “I know all this. So, what’s your point?”

  “I’ve spent my life seeking forgiveness. I devoted myself to fulfilling our creed, to finding the Caranaum and offering them to Yelia. In that sense, until she returns to us, forgiveness is a life-long search. That is my duty as a Yalean.”

  “As Commander of the Elsgard, you’ve done a fine job. Yelia would be proud of your efforts.”

  “And yet,” taking a sip from his glass, “I have overseen the very near destruction of the Elsgard, for my own selfish quest.”

  “What selfish quest? We have helped Euparyen for years. It’s true, we have sacrificed a lot, but never have I doubted you, nor what we do.”

  “Have you never thought about why there are no new recruits? No recruits to the Elsgard, which has such a long, dignified and glorious history throughout Yalea, where we numbered in our thousands? How when you were young, and I came to Rin Kas, I never came there as the Commander of the Elsgard, but just as a man? As a man who was simply raising another’s young boy, teaching him the ways of the world?”

  There was silence. Reisch continued, “I signed the last page of the Elsgard the day I gave the order to cross the Schism.”

  Even if he hadn’t fought in a bloody battle today, even if he hadn’t drunk these glasses of wine, Kiern felt that he would be just as confused as he was now. “Please, speak plainly. I’m not following.”

  “Yalea never gave me the order to march into Euparyen. In fact, I never intended to give the order. For one hour, that haunts me to this day, I did not give the order.” The Commander, for the first time in Kiern’s life, was crying. He turned away, and Kiern dared not interrupt him. He gave him the time that he needed.

  “That hour made me who I am today, but more importantly, it made you,” he said, after regaining some control.

  Kiern downed the rest of his glass. It was infuriating getting an answer out of this insufferable man! “Just tell me! What do you mean?”

  “I chose to seek forgiveness from man, before that of the Goddess. I chose to seek forgiveness from your father and severed the Elsgard from Yalea in the process.”

  “My father…”

  “I shall speak plainly. That day, twenty years ago, the Elsgard stood on the border of Yalea and Euparyen. The previous commander had built a bridge years earlier. Truthfully, it was less of a bridge and more of a collection of ropes and pulleys. We had improved on it and were able to ferry refugees over to our side of the Schism. Karzark had ruled for forty something years, though they had never solidified their hold in the east, like today. I had sent for an answer from the Council, whether we would intervene and stop the slaughter that was happening before our eyes.

  “It was a small town, right on the border, insignificant though its existence was, I shall never forget its name: Solace. Solace was burning in front of our eyes, Yukonians so far from home were hopelessly trying to defend it, and the Elsgard outnumbered the enemy. We could have simply marched in there and saved countless lives. But the order came. Stand down. Yalea cannot afford to embroil itself in a war against Karzark. I told the men we were to not engage, that I must condemn them to watch Solace burn, knowing that we could have saved many lives.”

  Reisch’s hand was shaking as he lifted the last of his glass to his lips. “It was your father who first broke rank. He told me there was no way he was going to let these people die while he sat and watched. I ordered him to stand down, that if he refused, he would be branded a traitor to Yalea. He answered thus:

  I would rather die a traitor than to live as a coward. Fear not, Reisch Elestan, Commander of the Elsgard of Yalea, for I shall not tarnish our grand company. I go forward as a free soul, to be judged by Yelia and Yelia alone.

  He threw me his brooch and ran towards Solace. No one else moved, nor said anything. We watched your father slay many, and then we watched him die.”

  Tears began to form in Kiern’s eyes as well. He had never heard how his father had died. He had never asked. Many faces he knew in the Elsgard had died; he had never thought he needed to know. Didn’t want to know.

  “For an hour, I stood there, torn between my country and the words of one man in an army of two thousand. I couldn’t move. It took me a whole damn hour to decide that those people needed saving. I told my men that I was no longer the Commander of the Elsgard, but a soldier, and that anyone who turned back now to Yalea would not be judged, but for anyone who crossed the Schism would cross in the knowledge that they could never return to Yalea.”

  Kiern put his glass down as it betrayed his shaking hands. He was embarrassed and ashamed. He had known so little and was never even aware of it. The others never talked about it. Bairn, Karrik, Derilen…they kept their dark past to themselves, to their graves. They had treated him he was their child. But Kiern had never asked. He grew up hearing of the exploits of the Elsgard, and Reisch being the only fatherly figure he ever knew, had always wanted to join. He never questioned himself, he never questioned his past.

  “How many crossed?” His voice was as shaky as his hands were. He was scared what he would learn in this conversation, scared of where it could lead.

  “All of them,” he said, “none remained.” Silence creeped in between the two of them. Reisch was twirling his cup with his hand, staring at the purple contents illuminated by the fire. Kiern looked into the flames, watching them dancing around the wood.

  “Which was an amicable ending, all things considered.”

  “How so? They were cast out from Yalea.”

  “Imagine half crossed, and half remained. Enough would have returned to preserve the integrity of the Elsgard, and the half that crossed would have been not only banished, but branded traitors for having risked a war with Karzark and cut off from all aid. Imagine again, this time where only a few returned, too few to maintain the Elsgard. They would have likely been imprisoned or killed to keep the mutiny a secret. No, what happened was probably the best outcome. That the entire Elsgard saved Solace, it was easy for Yalea Aranth to lay the entire blame on me and rid themselves of responsibility and possible retribution from Karzark. At the same time, it would have been too costly, politically, to label the entire Elsgard traitors to Yalea Aranth, at a time where there was a strong voice for supporting Euparyen. Therefore, Yalea had to provide support, at least in an unofficial capacity. There would be no amelioration through manpower or supply, but we retained our access to their informants throughout Euparyen and Yalea.”

  Kiern rubbed his eyes. “And my father…he was the catalyst in all this?”

  Reisch lent forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’ve had years to think about that question, yet I cannot answer with certainty. I think, it would be more accurate to say the Karzark invasion was the harbinger of change, and it was fate what pushed your father forward, a reaction to a wheel already set in motion.”

  He was well under the effects of inebriation, for he could see three fireplaces swaying about the room. He couldn’t remember even a moment ago of what caused his epiphany, but he latched onto the thought itself. “What did you promise?”

  “He made me promise to look after the light of his life, so that his life had purpose. And it broke my heart to watch an innocent child grow up knowing that the only way I could do that was if I convinced you
to join the Elsgard, stealing from you whatever choice you would have otherwise made. I still don’t know how I should have solved that riddle. Was there a way I could have protected you, without you being by my side in the Elsgard? I would have liked to talk to your father about it, were he still here. Ask him if he is satisfied with how I did.”

  Kiern didn’t wish to think about this in any great depth. Not now. “What’s done is done,” he said, wanting to change the topic before he got teary, “So how is this connected to hiding Magick from me all these years?”

  “That promise. To keep you safe. Magick is anything but. It is chaotic and all-consuming. It is best wielded by weathered, tempered souls – not those of a youth. But time is not on our side, and you would have pestered me about it until I relented anyway.”

  Silence erupted again, both locked in deep thought, an understanding between them forging where mere words would only hinder. But as time passed, it was Kiern this time who broke the silence. “My father bound your fate to mine when he made you promise you’d look after me. The wheel that Karzark turned…fate would have me lead the Elsgard.”

  Kiern stared at Reisch for a few, long moments, waiting for a response. “That’s rather presumptuous… but I think you’re ready.”

  Kiern had to laugh. Reisch stood up and threw the dregs of his cup into the fire. “That is of course, after you learn what it is the Elsgard actually does. But let’s talk about that tomorrow.”

  Commander Kiern of the Elsgard. Commander of all two members.

  -------------------------------------

  The Merchant

  He had heard the guards whispering in the early hours of the morning on the way to his shop.

  “The Sons are coming. They’re marching on Rulven.”

  “Says who? Sympathisers, no doubt.”

  “Tazik returned from Mayswood. Said there was a battle there. The Khasari were broken. Said it was the largest force they had seen. Ten thousand or more.”

  “Tazik says a lot and does a whole lot less. You shouldn’t listen to his ramblings.”

  “So why did he return when all the others didn’t? There’s only enough of us here to barely keep order here. Why haven’t they returned?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what officers get paid for. They know all that stuff. Stop worrying.”

  Mhiro kept his head down and kept walking. Rumours ran rampant about the Battle of Mayswood. There were no injured returning to Rulven, only those who could have run, having lost their armaments along the way. The official word was that a great victory was won against the Sons, though at great cost. But for those who paid attention, the truth was there to be seen. The maimed never returned. That was the telling sign. Only victors afforded their injured respite.

  Mhiro kept his head down and kept walking. It was early in the morning and he had received a wagon of fruit from the countryside the night before. It was the last of the season, his supplier had told him. He had considered purchasing wheat from Karzark, but he feared stepping on too many toes, so he decided to stick with just furs with winter arriving quickly. Rulven was quick to bare its fangs when it wanted to, Yelia’s chosen city or no.

  But the Sons would be reinvigorated if they won Mayswood. It was an important trading post and an army of Sons residing there would certainly strain Rulven’s resources. Well, for the Karzarki’s who resided there anyway. There was the Euphyrian black market that ran a parallel economy in the city. It was remarkably well-organised, supporting the Euphyrians, and their goods never reached Karzarki hands. Though, it barely mattered, Mhiro told himself. It would be a major headache when supplies dwindled in the city, but he had more immediate problems to address, such as finding a way to survive winter. The cold was coming, and he had a wife and two children to support.

  He arrived at his door. There was still light coming from inside. Good, he thought. His wife was still awake, and the house would still be warm. Thank Yelia. It was unseasonably cold this early in the year. It would certainly be a long winter. He took his keys from his pocket and with some difficulty from the numbness of his fingers opened the door. He was greeted by the warmth of the fire’s dying embers. His wife, Lydia, was softly sleeping in her chair that she had moved in front of the fireplace. His two daughters were curled up together in the corner.

  “You’re home.” He turned around to see his wife rubbing her eyes as she let out a yawn.

  “I’m home.”

  “Rulven is host to a number of rumours of late. Speculation about a battle that took place in Mayswood.”

  Mhiro sat down in his chair and poured himself a glass of wine. “I hope you aren’t contributing to these rumours, Lydia. You should be more careful with what you hear and where.”

  “I haven’t said a word to anyone about it. The Khasari whisper to each other in sullen voices, spoken with fear. Strange, considering they talk of victory.”

  “Lydia, the less you know of this the better,” Mhiro said sternly. “Whatever happens will happen, but I want us and the girls through on the other side.”

  Lydia nodded and sat back down in her chair. “I know, husband.”

  “We have more pressing issues, anyway. The fruit season ended today, a month earlier than last year. Come the end of the week, I have nothing left to sell.”

  Lydia was silent for a second, looking down at the floor. “You could buy wheat from Karzark.”

  Mhiro shook his head. “Honey, we’ve been over this before. It would take a month to find a supplier and another month to get here, if it gets here. It’s a risky journey with all the attacks on the roads and I’ll be forced to pay extra for that risk. Besides, the Karzarki merchants would not appreciate a Euphyrian buying into their territory.”

  “So, what are we to do? Starve?”

  “Furs. I will sell furs. If winter is going to be longer than usual, I may as well offer some merchandise for it. Yelia knows there will be demand.”

  “What’s the problem then? It seems that there isn’t a problem.”

  Mhiro sighed and looked into his cup, watching the wine swish around. “Buying the first shipment will cost me all that I have saved. If they don’t sell well, we will be out on the streets before winter is done.”

  “Mhiro, do what you must and don’t look back. Fate is fate. If they don’t sell, they don’t sell. If the Sons attack Rulven, that is fate. Don’t fear what has been decided for us.”

  Mhiro hated his wife’s surrendering of her will to the fates. It was an easy escape of responsibility. This time, however, it made him feel a bit better. “Well, I hope fate is kind, because the alternative is leaving Rulven with empty stomachs. But worse for the Sons still, for if fate is unkind, they will perish alongside their cause if they lose at Rulven.”

  Lydia stood up and grabbed Mhiro’s glass of wine and drank the remainder. “They will find a way, dear husband. Euphyria will find a way.”

  Mhiro remained sceptical. “There is still a legion in Rulven, and more in the territories. Five thousand Khasari, occupying a Citadel, and more that can come to its aid. Even if it is true that the Sons won a victory in Mayswood, they would not be able to take Rulven.”

  -------------------------------------

  Rhen

  “We will take Rulven,” Princess Vaelynna IV declared to her audience. The leaders of the Sons of the Phoenix banged their cups on the table while the Elsgard remained emotionless, except for Commander Kiern who had surprise written all over his face. Rhen was also surprised, having only recently been in Rulven, but tried to keep a neutral face, knowing that there would be some in the room who would be looking at the only Karzarki in the room, looking for any reason to justify their suspicions.

  Kiern was first to respond. “My apologies, Princess Vaelynna, but I’m having trouble imagining how.”

  Rhen agreed. It sounded like a stupid idea. His head hurt, and this plan made it hurt more. It hurt his head to try to retrace what happened. He remembered being surrounded and his leg had a gas
h, and someone took him from the street. Then he awoke in a bed, stiff and sore but alive, his gash but a ghost. Maybe he had dreamt it. Maybe it was a dream that he had after he fell unconscious. He wasn’t sure. But he knew last night was was by no means an easy victory; not through trusting his memory, but rather the injured and dead he saw sprawled out on the floor when he opened his door.

  Princess Vaelynna IV looked at Reisch, as if asking him to chastise Kiern. Reisch picked up on it too. “Your Highness, as of last night, I am no longer Commander of the Elsgard. That position is now held by Kiern Narren who sits before you. As his predecessor, I can take him aside and council him, if that is your desire.”

  There were a few murmurings amongst the Sons, no doubt expressing their concerns. Vaelynna, however, carried on. “That won’t be necessary, Reisch Elestan,” she said, calm and composed, “I will allay the Commander’s concerns directly.”

  She turned to Kiern, who blushed. His attempt at modesty and humbleness, though sincere, was as bad as drinking a Euphyrian wine on a scorching summer’s day. “Euphyria’s hand has been forced for generations. We are rebels in our own heartland. Our oldest citizenry can barely remember a time when we weren’t under the oppressive yoke of Karzark’s ambitions. Betrayed by a Yalea who went running with their tail between their legs, we were forced to flee, or live under Karzark’s rule. And only now, after generations of resistance and sacrifice, have we found ourselves a voice backed by the means to stand up to Karzark. We will not retreat back across the sea. Never again will we endure that bitter fate.”

  The leaders of the Sons of the Phoenix started to bang their fists on their tables in unison, inspired by the zeal of their princess’ defiance. Rhen looked at Kiern. He wanted to be caught up in the moment, joining in the fervour, but Reisch was a good mentor and Kiern calmly waited for the commotion to die down.

  “And I pledge myself and the Elsgard to that cause,” he began, “however my question was not aimed at your resolve, but the means. How are you going to take a Citadel with six hundred men – less now, after the battle here? They still have one legion garrisoned there, to the best of our knowledge. And as the heirs of the Citadels, you should know to not underestimate their defences.”