Chapter 1
.The sounds of war were no more, swords stopped, men were no longer yelling their cries as they went into battle, one of which they knew they were never to return from. These sounds had been replaced with vultures circling the dead or ripping great shreds from the blood soaked flesh, off of their immobile corpses.
High Commander to the King, Greggor Voltrain looked over the watch towers, walls once used to protect their archers from the enemy, to see the countless dead. The scene was gruesome, not fitting for their once, majestic town of Folor. It was no longer the prosperous land it once was; now it was hell or, at least, what the Voltrain pictured hell might look like.
The High Commander was a very tall man, among his people at least, he was 6 foot tall, wore a blue tunic symbolizing his rank and golden chain mail which was virtually impenetrable. On his back he wore a deep purple cape, which reached down to his knees; his legs were clad in ebony black, silk hosiery. On his face he had a kind look though he was a war veteran. His eye brows were placed awkwardly as if a toddler had glued them to his forehead, beneath his eyebrows was a set of piercing blue eyes. His hair was a sandy brown and parted neatly down the center of his scalp. Even if you didn’t know who he was, you could tell he was a man of great importance from his appearance. He stood very straight but not at all stiff looking. When he walked his arms swung perfectly by his side and if he stopped walking his feet would automatically splay shoulder width apart.
Voltrain stared out toward the battlefield where the last fight took place remembering the count of people he killed: 593, it was a hard thing to kill people and this number would haunt him for the rest of his mortal life. The faces of the men he killed were etched into his mind forever and would haunt him as a bad nightmare whenever he shut his eyes, no one should put up with this. Killing was not what he wanted with his life but it is what became inevitable when the time came that this war, the first war the people of Voti had experienced in over three hundred years. War was more hell, than this field of corpses rotting on the ground.
“High Commander we have the final death count.”
Voltrain took a second to snap back from the faces of the dead, to the here and now. He turned to the man in front of him, “I will meet you in my chamber Second Commander.” The man turned and walked off.
Five years of war. The High Commander thought to himself, For what were we even fighting for? He was angry but with whom, myself for taking 80 000 men to go to war, the king for putting his subjects into a battle, that they could not survive from and should not have even been apart of?
No. He wasn’t mad at any of them. He was mad at King Korvolo XIII for forcing his people to try to destroy a peaceful place. Korvolo ruled by fear; a tyrant; which is how he got his subjects to do anything and everything he wanted. If he wanted anything done he simply black mailed or even killed peoples loved ones, so that they would obey him without question. This wars only purpose was to destroy a nation of living creatures that had never done wrong to Centa-Mas and to gain more territory, and eventually bring all of Hesëyr under one joint name. Under one ruler.
He turned and made his way to the chamber to hear the death count and war reports.
“High Commander, reports have just been finalized,” Voltrain sat on the stone chair which had been created upon his arrival, “The final count is 30 000 dead and 1400 wounded gravely.”
Voltrain sighed, Too many have died and for what? A nation of beings who killed forty men just for discovering them.
“Sir…sir?” Second Commander Theelor asked. Voltrain snapped back to reality.
“Yes?”
“We must send someone to report to his majesty, the King. Who will you have me send?” Theelor looked up to him hopefully.
The High Commander stopped for a moment to contemplate. There were things he needed to ask, things he needed to find out, “I will send…,” he looked at Theelor, “Myself.” Theelor looked broken hearted.
“But sir, whom will be in charge during your absence?” one of the pike men asked.
Voltrain thought before he replied, “Isn’t it obvious?” He stopped and walked toward his Second Commander, Theelor, “The one who put the most effort into supporting me during this campaign.” He put his hands on Theelor’s shoulders.
Theelor looked up, “Me sir?”
Voltrain nodded and said, “Of course you, First Commander Theelor.” The High Commander looked up from the new First Commander to look at the remaining men in the room. He walked back to his stone chair and called every one of them to attention.
“Everyone pay attention. Well I am gone you will pay attention to and follow every command of the First Commander,” He paused and looked at Theelor and noticed a new, straighter posture to him, “Do you understand?”
A few men yelled a pitiful, “Yes sir,” to him but not enough.
“I said…DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”
At that everyone stood straight and stiff and yelled out at the top of their lungs loud and hearty
“YES SIR!”
******* Hey, it's me again! This is a rather short chapter compared to some of the later ones, even shorter now that I've changed up some of the plot points later on in the story, but this is only the beginning. Please continue to comment! Nathan
