The Raven: Prince of Iron and Blood.

Numeris Penktas

Underneath the watching eyes of the ancient oaks, the air hung thick with tension as the headsman of Zegurin watched behind shaded eyes at the barricade of needle-tipped stakes driven into the earth three miles off the village green.

Two and a half days ago the mighty legion of Faryn had come through the village, their ensigns high in the wind and the sound of their approaching warcry ringing across to the Thorn Kingdom. They had pushed the Ravens from Morwenhollow taking back Yellowford, Rochfinik, Durhaat, and as far as Korenling in the mid-eastern stepps. With each step of their march, the freed cities opened their gates and welcomed their Queen and beloved Prince like a god. Men had bowed in devotion, women squealing and fawn-eyed to their Prince, and gay children throwing garlands of flowers to their Queen. Once free of their chains, freemen went to hunt down the remaining Ravens in the city like a dog to a rat. Even raven children were pelted with rocks, tiles, and dirt. One tile cracked against the neck of one little raven girl, killing her on the spot. People let their dogs feast on her body.

The people of Orkrid, Langden, Sandsich, and Shroomwood demanded that the Raven prisoners be destroyed. Queen Aliss sent word that all female Ravens were to be dissected of their children and burned. The men were sent to an unknown death.

Prince Rya proclaimed that all the female raven children were to be killed. The boys, were to be given to the army.

Each victory of every corner of the kingdom had come with a high cost. Innocent tens of thousands had found themselves at the hands of the mighty Raven Army who fell upon them like a plague. All of Harbron's sons had been slaughtered. His wife had fallen into a deep state, glass-eyed and refusing to eat. Harbron had turned her over to Zegurin healer. "Give her the best she wants and let her be treated as tenderly as possible."

He had no taste for war. No hatred. He simply wished to keep all his family spared from the blood and pain. He had his little grandchildren left and their mothers. Zegurin had been a bloating city to the Ravens and they had descended upon it as death. Houses of corn. Wheat. New oil. And for Aetherium Silver. It was found in the great city of Zegurin near the bases of the mountains. This otherworldly metal was considered the metal of legends, often found only in treasure hoards of ancient dragons or in the depths of enchanted forests guarded by powerful spirits. Today, it is used for the creation of intricate designs and armour, as it does not bend, shatter, or corrode, rendering it impervious to any blade or sharp object. Even the most ferocious predator's claw or fang cannot leave a mark on its surface. Yet its weight within the armour or induced in a sword would burden the wearer greatly.

A thousand humans had defended the mines to the last of their strength but had fallen and lay in the streets. The Ravens had stormed the Tower and murdered all who were in it. Duke Pergult had surrendered the keys with just a few scratches from his after interrogation. The Ravens then gutted the mines and destroyed the city.

Only when the Prince's army had echoed across the Sand Ruin Dessert the Ravens fled like rats. Leaving behind them the blood of a near nine hundred thousand.

Boys had joined the army, swollen with power and pride. Harbron's oldest grandson of fifteen had asked to join.

"How long before you die?"

"Men can't avoid that fate, Grandpapa, but if I die with a sword in my hands; so be it!"

"Why must you go with them?" He looked away from the boy's face.

"Those people? They're kinsmen, our blood being poured out on the ground for us!"

Harbron had clung to his tunic."Please, don't go. I know what will happen. What will my daughter think to find her son gone?"