Two Masters (epic progression fantasy)

Chapter 7: The Spear of Ateya

Omrai Speartip Abaddon, High General, stood in his war room in Ativa, the capital of Ateya. He scanned the map on the table, eyes moving from Ateya's center, his current position, and then to the northeast. Each captured city was marked with a red x. In less than three days, an invading force with flying ships had conquered half of the cities of the Farinian tribe of Ateya...

In three days.

Men rushed in and out of the command center, several of his azor generals argued to the side. They each wore crisp glima, their long and flowing silk made in stripes of the deepest hues. He'd ordered them to come immediately, without regard for uniforms. He'd wore his own, but he always wore his uniform.

The dread in the air was palpable. He expected even more so for himself then others. He spent a moment, analyzing the waves of emotion he felt from each of his generals. For years he had only thought that he was better at reading people, understanding them. But as he aged, he began to realize more and more that he wasn't just reading body language. He didn't even have to look at someone else to know how they felt. He'd tried for years to understand it, even reading apocryphal texts to find any hint of his ability. None. There was not a reference nor a byword.

Now, he chose not to think about it. Others would call it witchcraft, a dangerous sin in Ateya. Was it witchcraft if it weren't on purpose? Often, he wondered whether it was a gift or a curse, to feel the emotions of others so acutely. Even now, he longed for solitude.

But, unfortunately. Omrai wasn't only the best man for his position, he was the only man for his position. No one else could hold the ravenous armies of their neighbors at bay. No one else could look into his enemy's eye and see his heart, feel the emotional tides of a battle.

He was the only one.

"These reports are impossible," Omrai said, turning to General Etos. "The dates must be wrong."

General Etos frowned. "I'm afraid they aren't. My very best spies have reported them, the messages sent by the fastest pteros."

General Etos's frustration hit Omrai like a sharp breeze. Omrai, suddenly feeling exhausted, crossed an arm over his chest and squeezed the bridge of his nose. As if he could massage the current situation away.

"Never, in all of known history, has anyone conquered such territory so fast," General Tonnin said, the oldest of the group. He gave off an aura of quiet loathing and incredulity. "You can't move troops that quickly."

"Perhaps it was a premeditated effort?" General Koakh said. He was the youngest. Promoted by Omrai for his quick-thinking under pressure. Despite his anxiety, there was a solid foundation of vigilance in the man. "Coordinated between multiple armies?"

General Etos shook his head, "My spies on our border did not see them."

Omrai furrowed his brow. "You mean to tell me that not a single spy bore messages of an invading force?"

General Etos nodded. "None sent a messenger ptero. Either they are dead, or the army didn't pass that way."

"Or they flew so far overhead no one could see them," General Koakh said.

"Don't tell me you believe what they're saying of fortresses floating down from heaven, dropping warriors of metal onto our cities?" General Tonnin said with a growl, his disdain for the younger general apparent.

"I do," General Etos said, "Why would my men lie about this?" His anger and impatience threatened to boil into rage and despair.

Omrai turned back to the table, taking another deep breath and trying to ignore the waves of emotions from the others. What were his own feelings? He lifted one of the reports from Etos's spies.