Legend of the Seven Gems Book I: Journey to Calicostan

Chapter X: The Message

Before the trio of generals stood an army; inexperienced but determined by their will to defend their lives and their honor. Between the invasion of their city, the countless days and nights wandering the temperate forests and knee-high plains of High Garden without food, they long for the day their homeland would be brought back to them. Who better to revolt than those who identify with the city whose walls beckon their identity, if not, the very foundation of each of them, toes and head; they will not fall.

Royland stood upon a rock, eagerly watching the sun rise from its grave, grasping its new light upon the world, showing a glimmer of hope to what is to come... They were as if the sun risen. Night struck their home, a war was on its way. While it was not intended, Roy knew the situation. He were to rise as a sun during the early mornings of Winter, and soon, his people would too. It was the time for him to show just what his destiny could bare, for he is the one and the only descendant.

Beside Royland stood the trio of Generals, Sir Aaron the protector, Brandulf the Warrior, and Prim the sharp witted assassin.

The scouts each eagerly anticipated the return of the general store clerk, who's order was to retrieve the aide of neighboring victims of the war.

In the distance, a lone horse could be seen trotting towards Anatevska.

Aaron: They've returned!

Royland: Good, tell the Salstromians to open the gates. War is underway.

As the horse approached closer, Aaron left his post by slowly inching his way down the rock, as to not slip and fall. The horse trotted closer, but it was still somewhat challenging to identify any definitive facial features. Merely the assumption that it was the general store clerk was plenty of evidence to validate the welcoming.

Royland stood tall, watching as the sun woke up from its slumber. Today was the dawn of a day of fate, but the real question is.. whose fate? The thought of that word crossed his mind... 'Descendant', what could this truly mean? Will it play a significant role in the coming battle?

Brandulf looked at Royland, anticipating direct orders from him- Royland remained oblivious to all else other than the sun rising from its dusky grave, as the new Kingdom standing before him. If he was to rise from the grave once again, he would solely desire the truth of his archetype; the descendant, what could this mean?

There is no time to think of it, as the horse draws near, the rusty gates caress the dusty grass beneath and scrape the time-worn beams holding the city together. Royland's royal crimson cape swayed with his swift turning motion, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the news. Brandulf followed close behind.

The horse entered the village, and with it, cheering... until the realization of what the horse bares upon its mighty hide truly hinders the mood of the village, paralyzing the ecstatic emotions folks prepared for the arrival of the envoy. Royland approached the steed, eyes widened at the sight.

A scorched head; the clerks, and a long, rusted metal pipe, piercing through the cerebrum, top to bottom.  The pipe's length is ambiguous, as it appears to be cut off at the horse's back, and sandwiched between is a strange-looking structure to holster the head upon the horse's back. As for the horse, it seems to sense the uneasy feeling of the village it just so happened to stumble across, collapsing and throwing its intestines up from the painful, dry journey without food or water.

A wall of people created a 'U' shape surrounding the scene, realizing the extent of what they got themselves into, with Royland in the forefront. Some people began running out of the village if they had the chance to, whether it be out of fear for their lives or out of the weakness of their own stomachs, as to avoid projecting their puke onto the crowd of people, spitting up the fear from the depths of their stomachs, is ambiguous among the generals.