NELNIFA CORLEDIA IS SUPPOSED TO BE WEAK. During a brazen attack against her people, she is left with no choice but to take the lead. With knowledge coming from dubious places, a territory in shambles, and a people too scattered to fight back, she ha...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
2412 Qintax 28, Kindreth
The rifle bounced against her back, her boots sinking on the sand with every step she took. She was back in her Cardovian uniform, a cloak thrown over it. The moonslight trailed in her wake, watching over her steps. The tide never stopped coming from afar before edging back to where it came from, leaving behind wet sand in its wake. Even being as far as she was from the beach, she heard the lulling tune of the sea. She could still smell the heavy musk of brine hanging in the air.
That's the last glimpse she'd have of Desara tonight because the Oraytan stronghold crept into view. She tucked her face behind the scarf she tied around her neck, masking most of her features. Her purple hair—a real, defining trait—stayed pinned up in braids and hidden underneath a head-tight hat.
It was the dead of night, but the crenelations glowed amber from the light of the pyres in its gut. As their numerous excursions into the fortress tallied, the night patrol would either be relegated to those punished for underperformance or to those who incurred it for no reason. Cardovia operated like any other army, and Nelnifa intended to use that to her advantage.
If everything went according to plan, the other three Marshals would be in place, ready to take on the short dash towards the land-side gate. That's where Nelnifa came in.
Since everyone agreed to never leave each other alone, they split the covert faction into two. Ilphas and Laie would deal with Parim Deinu, Gerphie and Rye were the ones assigned with Hycile Lorel, and finally, Agan Corei would fall under Ketha and Alsen's jurisdiction. It's a miracle the weaver curbed under Ketha's influence when they asked for volunteers in this near-suicide mission.
And Nelnifa? The entire faction agreed she was the one who should never be left alone at all costs. With everyone occupied with their tasks, the only person who had nothing to do was her father, Levan Corledia.
So, here they were, making the first trek towards the part of the plan that would mark the beginning of what they're working towards—retaking Orayta, and after, the rest of Desara. Nelnifa swallowed against the lump forming in her throat, tamping the dread and fear climbing from her gut. It's not the time for those emotions, and if she learned something from her training, she would know better than to give in to them.
Focus on the present. Feel the emotions later.
She blew a breath through her mask, the warmth of her breath clouding her nose. The air remained humid, despite the change of seasons coming soon. There were no incoming storms either, the horizon where the sky met the sea staying clear and free of dark masses of clouds.
Soon, the fortress' gate loomed over them. A flintlock whipped out from her belt and pointed up. She craned her neck up the walls to check for soldiers posted on either towers flanking the gate. From the shadows of the bell, not a single form betrayed a soul. They're safe. Well...as safe as infiltrating an enemy stronghold could be.
