𝗔rathor woke shortly after, his stomach was bandaged, along with his left arm, and he had stitches on his face, he didn't look too bad; but he wasn't the most attractive around as of now.
When he did wake up, he slowly sat up and he saw that he was in a bright room, like angel aesthetic type, he looked out of the window, and could barely see anything but light.
“It certainly took you a while to wake up,” said Eli, walking in with his dwarven partner D'Angelo.
“Friends!” said Arathor. “Oh, my beautiful friends! I have awoken. Am i dead?”
“No, not now, atleast,” chuckled Eli, patting the Dwarven friend next to him. “How are you doing?”
“I am alright, surprisingly,” he winced, as he smoothed the bandage wrapped around his lower stomach, “not a fan of the bandaging though.”
“That Soldier got you good,” said Eli. “If it wasnt for us, you most probably would've died due to blood loss.”
“Yes!” said D'Angelo. “Thank your Vylven Friend for his healing potion!”
“Healing potion?” said Arathor. “I didn't know Vylves had potions.”
“We do, but we keep them hidden and use for nessecary situations,” said Eli, “your wound was fatal—fortuantely the potion worked.”
“Well, i'm still in shape, i guess,” said Arathor, as he got out of the bed slowly, the two friends took a few steps back to give him air, as Arathor stood up, stretching his back, he turned to the others. “Where are we?”
“Ciras Asklov,” said D'Angelo, “the High Capital of the Nazrulian Empire.”
“Nazrulian Empire?” said Arathor. “Is that what they're calling it now?”
“Yes,” said Eli. “After the battle at Grandzam against the Donrulians, the Nazrule updated all their cities scattered across the gates of Ainkura, now we call it the Nazrulian Empire.”
Arathor slowly nodded, not feeling too good about that idea. “Say, where is Perrin and Gimitri?”
They were both silent, as Arathor was confused by this, as he asked again: “Where are they?”
D'Angelo glanced at Eli as he lowered his head, as Eli said gravely and sadly: “Perrin and Gimitri were not found when the Troops were sent to look for remaining soldiers.”
“What?” said Arathor. “Was there any signs or anything?”
“No,” said Eli. “Nothing, it is certain that they either ditched the battle, or —” he went silent.
“Say it,” said Arathor. “Say it!”
“— or they got captured by Ferecorn,” finished Eli. “We do not know what happened, all we can do is pray.”
“Pray!” said Arathor. “We won't pray! They are my comrades! I won't sit around and wait for them to come back! Before we know it they can be dead! — Thrown in a ditch! — We need to rescue them!”Arathor ran out of the Infirmary, with Eli and D'Angelo chasing him; he went into the armory room; where they were surrounded by countless swords, armors, kits, etc.
Arathor grabbed a broadsword, and a chestplate, as Eli protested; “It's no use! Even if we make it there, then what? Are we supposed to fight the entirety of Grandzam off? We will die!”
“The Vylf has a point!” said D'Angelo. “Say, think this through, Arathor. You're already badly bruised enough — do you want death?”
“I'd rather death than think my friends are dead,” said Arathor, strapping the chestplate around him, as he looked at the Two. “We are fighters, not quitters. We will rescue our comrades, even if it seems tough!”
“Then i shall come with you!” said a voice outside, as it ran in; it was Everard Nickelson, as he was in his armor; his red helmet shining as he held his small sword. “If you mind, that is.”
“You know i'd never decline,” said Arathor. “We are the Solidarity! We stick out for eachother! Even if we are not looking for the Flag anymore, we can still look for eachother! Now come on!”
As Arathor put the red helmet on, he ran out of the warehouse, as he went to grab a horse, as he jumped on it, and rode back to the others.
“Eli, get your horse,” he said as he lifted Evera up, sitting behind him. “We have a long road ahead.”
Eli sighed. “I swore an oath to stay by your side,” said Eli. “I guess i shall come with you aswell. D'Angelo, you want to aswell?”
“And stay with these lot?” he turned to the citizens. “No chance! I'm coming!”
Eli whistled, as a shining white horse came running out of the barn, with Eli backflipping mid-air, landing on it as he helped D'Angelo up.
And then the Two Horses set off.Gimitri had been making quite a good talk with the Tree, as he asked questions like; “What is your name?” (“Treeshin,” answered the Tree.) “Where are we going?” (“That is none of your buisness.”) “Can i sleep?” (“Do you not?”)
Gimitri yawned, as Perrin stopped rubbing his foot, as he turned to the Tree. “Ah! A Tree!”
“It's not as bad as it looks,” said Gimitri, “he's Tree-folk.”
“Treelurks,” said Treeshin, “that's what we are called. Treelurks.”
Gimitri nodded. “Treeshin! Meet my friend; Perekin Bethel, he is my kinsman.”
“Is he really?”
“No, i'd never wanna be related to him,” said Perrin, “it feels like it, though. Maybe it's because i've been through so much with him.”
“Aw!” Gimitri said. “He's blushing!”
“Shut your face — !”
“Oi, oi, oi!” said Treeshin. “No arguing on my tree, ya don't like it? Bugger off!”
The Younglings went silent as Treeshin walked through the forest, and then, with a two hour break of silence, Treeshin finally said, “We have made it.”
“Where are we?” said Perrin, as the Two Younglings got up; and the look on their faces was pure shock, probably beyond shock. Their jaws dropped. But it was like it couldn't move, it was like they were stone cold statues.
What laid infront of them was a Tree Kingdom, with a angelic fog all around it, lots of other Treelurks had been walking around, it was way bigger than the Younglings were used to; it was ten times bigger, maybe even more!
“This is Treelurks' home,” said Treeshin, “or one of them. Atleast, there are many kingdoms like this.”
“What floor is this?” said Perrin. “This can't be the same realm as Grandzam!”
“It is not,” said Treeshin. “We are on the Sixty-second floor, come! We shall find a place to rest.”
Treeshin walked on one of the wooden bridges, as Perrin and Gimitri looked all around amazed; it was like they wanted to stay there forever.Three is soon!
YOU ARE READING
A Game of Flags
Historical FictionWant to play A Game of Flags? Oh I have a Game of Flags for you, especially when it involves war and killing other people. with armies charging into the battlefield left and right, fighting over a mythical enhanced flag: the blue and the red are at...