The War Against Aberon (Rough Draft #1)

Prologue

The room was grand with high ceilings and large eccentric pieces of furniture. The back wall was almost entirely windowed, looking out onto a vast landscape of grassy fields and detailed gardens. Inside was a left wall of bookshelves, the books all ranging from newly made with supple leather covers, to barely hanging together and ripping at the seams. The right wall held something of a concession with one long table full of pastries, fruits, and warm drinks. All were untouched. In the center of it all, was a circular table, all fancy chairs, and expensive wood. While there was no head at the table it was clear where the leader sat. The spot marked by a chair polished to perfection, extravagant in every way. It was a chair, a throne, fit for a king, in fact, it was.

    "We can't keep going on like this, we're being pushed farther and farther back." A gloved hand brushed some hair from their frustrated face.

    "I understand that general, but unless a miracle falls from the sky your troops will have to hold their ground for as long as they can, until we've secured the stones there's not much to be done." An equally frustrated form spoke. The general glared at her king with fierce eyes, none could deny her discontent. The others in the room only muttered to themselves, only she had the gal to speak or even look at the kingdom's leader in such away. That was to be expected however when the king was your husband.

    "My troops are dying, your highness, good men are dying out there unless we do something to stop it." She exhaled, "we can't hold them off if they wipe us out," the Queen argued. The leopard laying at her feet put his head in her lap to comfort her. Her leather glove-covered hand moved to pat her bond's head. Her armor-clad body made clear the difference between her and the others seated around her. Her brashness spoke of someone unknown to nobility yet she was seated closest to the ruler of an entire nation. Her husband and she made quite the contrast. His high posture and well-to-do clothing gave him an air of authority, but also ignorance. He didn't understand war, not as his wife and general did.

    "If I may be so bold as to intrude," a voice from across the table came. The man was poised with gray hair and cold calculating eyes. "The army requires more soldiers yes?" He was given a nod. "Then why not initiate a draft? There are many people who live in Vale Havon and many that would be eager to serve their kingdom."

    "Lord Edgar while I appreciate the sentiment, the people of Vale Havon are not fighters, they'd need training that we don't have the time to give," the king spoke. His voice was smooth with a definite undertone of bitterness. None in the room liked Edgar much, he was much too cunning to be someone of appreciative value, the serpent around his neck another certain warning. As a man of high standing and high nobility, however, he was not to be excused.

    "It's not the worst idea," the table filled with mutters.

    "Valerie! Our people cannot be sent to war!" The king gazed at his wife, eyes widened in surprise.

   "Malikai I'm desperate, ordering for some citizens to participate in defending the nation might be the edge we need to get us some more equal footing. Aberon's army is far more powerful than we first anticipated." She was clearly tired, the dark circles rimmed her eyes like crescent moons.

    "We'd be sending people to the slaughter," he whispered, the fact that she considered this option pushed concern into his dark eyes. He knew his wife to be rough around the edges, but she was not a monster. An eagle soared from its roost from the right of the room. Landing on the shoulder of the male ruler, she ruffled her feathers then placed glowering eyes on those seated in the room. Whoever distressed the leader of her flock would pay a steep price.

    "What other choice do we have? I don't like it either, but it's our best bet. I can try to get some basic training in before they're sent out, but I need more men, and the stones need protecting. That can't happen unless there's a draft," her voice was melancholy but firm. She was certain this was the path they had to take.

    The king stared at his wife a moment, sighed, then nodded. Turning to those gathered, he paused. Overlooking all the nobles in the room. His gaze stopped on each one. Everyone had to know the gravity of this choice. His eyes landed on the Lady of Sandlelake, a round woman with a rabbit nestled in her skirts that flowed onto the floor. Then, to the Lord of Shadow Ridge, a stout man with a hardened face and kind eyes, the Dire Wolf at his side sat calm and proud. There was also Lady Aerwyna of Navayla, her finned ears and gilled neck an easy indicator of her origins. Of course, Lord Edgar, who the king received a nod from. The Lord also wore a sick sort of smirk on his face. Finally Lord Cypress of the Westwood, his feline features downturned to match the sadness in his eyes. 

    "Those in favor of igniting the drafts raise their right hand and say I," The king spoke with almost fearful timbre.

    All hands raised as a chorus of "I's" sang out across the table.

A/N:
Welcome to the War Against Aberon! I'm hoping to not have too many author's notes but wanted a quick intro. This is my first full-hearted attempt at starting and completing a story so bear with me. This is also my first ever entry into the Open Novella Contest! I chose the second prompt, which will come to fruition sometime in the second or third chapter to be written.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy it. The First chapter should already be up, but before you move on tell me what you think in the comments! A vote or two would also not go unnoticed...

Again thank you! I'll talk to you sometime soon!

Word Count-935