Beyond The Waning Light of Paradise

Chapter 4: A shadow

The group moved silently toward their temporary camp, where loss and resilience clashed in stark contrast. The camp, a hastily assembled collection of tents, was a grim tableau against the vibrant green of the surrounding forest that had once thrived here. The scent of pine and wood smoke mingled with the more pungent odour of death, and the air grew heavy with a deathly stillness, thick with grief and melancholy. Only the occasional groans of wounded soldiers disturbed the oppressive silence.

Sullivan eventually pierced the atmosphere with a question. "Who's the commander? Or has he fallen too?"

A man emerged from the ranks, waving his hands. "War Master, spare me such a curse. I'm Kael Sanguis, the commander of these soldiers."

Despite his injuries, the man remained undeniably striking. His sharp, angular features, a hallmark of his aristocratic lineage, were now etched with lines of fatigue and pain. A short, neatly trimmed beard, usually a symbol of composure, was clotted with dried blood. His piercing blue eyes, once deep with experience, now burned with a wild, feral intensity. A fresh gash across his cheek lent a savage beauty to his face, and though his attire was torn and stained, it clung to him with an air of defiant elegance.

Sullivan nodded sharply. "I need to discuss something with you. Follow me. Chen, you too." Kael and Uncle Chen quickly followed Sullivan into the commander's tent.

Inside, Sullivan stared straight into Kael's eyes, his gaze piercing. "Well, Kael, wasn't there supposed to be a battalion stationed here? Where are the rest of the soldiers? Did they desert the battle?"

Kael offered a wry smile, a stark contrast to his grim expression. "Well, sir, the Baron sent only us for the battle. All we had were a trebuchet and three ballistae."

Sullivan and Uncle Chen exchanged surprised glances. Such blatant disregard of responsibility was rare.

Sullivan's face hardened as he absorbed the implications of Kael's words. The Baron's decision to send such a small force against an unknown enemy was a gamble bordering on negligence. A cold fury simmered within him.

"This is a betrayal," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "The Baron has knowingly sent our men to their deaths."

Kael nodded grimly. "It's a desperate gamble, hoping to weaken the clan without risking his own forces."

Uncle Chen, his face impassive, studied the map spread out on the table. "We must proceed with caution," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "The Baron's motives are unclear, but his actions speak volumes."

A heavy silence fell over the tent, laden with the weight of their situation. They were caught in a deadly game, surrounded by enemies within and without.

"We need to secure this area and establish a defensive perimeter," Sullivan said, his authoritative voice regaining its tone. The urgency of the situation was palpable. "We cannot afford to lose more men."

Kael nodded in agreement, his teeth gritted. "And we need to send a message to the Baron," he added, his eyes glinting with a cold determination that sent shivers down their spines. "He will pay for his treachery against the clan and my men."

Sullivan studied Kael as if contemplating something deeper. After a moment, he spoke. "The Ashtral... it was a behemoth. Something like that shouldn't have breached our defenses. We need to understand how it happened. Chen, assess the defensive positions. Ensure this doesn't happen again. Bring the Darkwing eagle here while you're at it."

Uncle Chen nodded and was about to leave when Sullivan suddenly added, "Oh, and keep the brats busy so they don't wander off. Tell them to help the medics or something."