Prologue

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     "For the people, for the Realm!"

The bold and righteous soldiers of the Cresian Empire stood in their battle formations, ready for the imminent attack from the enemy, who lied across the Tinted River. Their silver, blue, and gold uniforms shone in the sunlight of the Red Desert, and their blades gleamed with a beauty even scholars at the Academy could not describe. Isaac however, hated the army. Wearing stiff uniforms while marching in place for hours and trapped in between sweaty peasants and farmers with about as much training as a spoiled potato. What Isaac wanted was action. To save his country, be honored by his king and receive the love of Queen Adelsyia. Yet there was no chance that. But Isaac loved to daydream about the beautiful queen marrying him, and would spend hours thinking of her fair skin, flowing red hair, and her blue eyes that were as icy and sharp as the mountains in the Northern Wastes.

Isaac's fantasy was abruptly ended when Raaf the Timid, the Captain of the 25th division, walked onto an oak platform with the dark-red Tinted River rushing behind him. Raaf, whose real name was Raafael, was nearly 50 years of age, but his bravery and experience had earned him the false nickname "Timid". He had a short, black well-trimmed beard with a streak of gray in the center. He was bald except for the gray patches of hair on the side of his head. He was short yet muscular, and was more toned than most men half his age. He walked to the edge of the platform and stared thoughtfully into space, though the Tietnemman Slopes were blocking his view of anything worth looking at.

Raaf paced back and forth along the platform before stopping in the center with his back turned to the roaring river behind him. He blinked rapidly, and then slowly stroked his graying beard. "Gentlemen, we have a serious problem on our hands. We have reports that the Kodorian army is heading south towards Cresia."

The men mumbled quietly, though the sound of fear was heard clearly throughout. Isaac had talked with Raaf privately before, and he was one of the few who were not surprised at the revelation, yet he was still fearful. The Kodorians were one of the few things the people of Cresia feared. They stood nearly a foot taller than the average Cresian, and years of living in the harsh Kodorian climate had turned them into nearly invincible people immune to both the freezing cold of the north and the boiling heat of the south. And why would the Kodorians violate the terms of the treaty they signed less than 20 years ago? Something seemed unusual about all this, but Isaac simply assumed it was in the Kodorians' inferior intellect.

"However, we will not be swayed by this threat.", Raaf's booming voice silenced the crowd of men. Even though nearly 20,000 men stood in front of the platform, Raaf's voice could clearly be heard by all of them. "I believe that every man here today has been properly trained and equipped to handle this threat. General Yolmund has informed me that we will hold back the Kodorian infantry until reinforcements come in from Fort McIntyre. Our combined forces should equal around 25,000 men, and our scouts report the Kodorians have no more than 15,000. We will turn them back to the wretched land from which they came and protect the ideals of freedom we have here in our great empire!"

The men cheered and whooped as Raaf stood on the edge of the platform and held his right arm parallel to his collarbone, the Cresian army salute. Some men in the back began to chant, "For the people, for the realm" and Isaac couldn't help but join them. Soon the entire crowd was chanting and saluting, and their voices were at such great of a volume Isaac swore he saw the River slow down slightly.

The men gradually ended the chanting and turned to Raaf to let him finish his speech. However, Raaf staggered at the edge of the platform with his hand clutching his chest. He moved his hand but he just stood their as if he'd been frozen. Suddenly Raaf's dark blue uniform turned a deep purple, and he fell to his knees and cried out in pain before collapsing onto the 3rd and 2nd Divisions. Isaac, a member of the second division, saw two arrows lodged in the back of Raaf's elegant uniform. His blood was still warm, yet it quickly dried in the hot desert sun. Tibbot the Little, an elven medic, kneeled before Raaf to inspect him. Raaf shoved Tibbot and coughed harshly. Tibbot approached Raaf again with a wooden medical instrument, but he pushed him away again and cursed violently.

"Stand down son. There's nothing that can be done", Raaf spoke lowly in his native Tibbledese. Isaac inched closer and hear Raaf mutter Tibbledese phares in cold, dry breaths. Isaac translated the Tibbledese to Emersian, which most of the soldiers native to northern Cresia spoke

"Avenge not me, but avenge the innocent peoples who are killed for no reason at all by the cruel fascists who plague the Realm. For the people... for the Realm...", Raaf's body jerked violently in Tibbot's arms until he took a ragged breath and his body went limp. Raaf closed his eyes and his body went limp. Tibbot slowly crept towards Raaf, and stuck the wooden device in Raaf's neck. Tibbot waited, his peers leaned forward, wondering if the unthinkable had become reality. Tibbot spoke in Emersian the words no one wanted to hear.

"He's d-d-dead. Raafael's dead."

Almost immediately an arrow shot through Tibbot's small head, going through his left temple and coming out from his right. Deep crimson blood poured out, and he died almost instantly.

The sky darkened slightly and out of curiousity, Isaac looked up. He saw a large flock of birds above him, and estimated there were over 100,000 of them. But the birds began to turn down, towards the Earth, and the Cresian soldiers were in their way. A bird crashed into the ground next to him and Isaac squinted to see what it was. He saw a triangular point attached to a small wooden stick. It was an arrow, and there were thousands more.

It was an ambush "Run!", someone cried.

Immediately arrows came down like lightning, killing hundreds of Cresian soldiers in seconds. Some arrows had been lit on fire and consumed soldiers in a beautiful array of golden flames. Isaac hopped over a corpse and joined the thousand or so soldiers fleeing towards Cheppling, the trade city surrounded by the Tietnammen slopes. Isaac saw his friend Jaspers trip and get crushed by hundreds of soldiers. The soldiers trampled Jaspers, and Isaac saw his bloody corpse sunken into the sand. Isaac felt salty tears fall down his face. Yet they weren't tears of sadness of his friend's death. They were tears of pain.

Isaac turned and saw a small arrow lodged in the back of his knee. The pain was excruciating, and the arrow's metal tip was grinding the back of his bone. Isaac screamed in pain and fell on a boulder, but knew if he stayed there he would die. He stood up and limped down the sandy valley towards Cheppling, but each step was more painful than the previous one. Isaac tumbled over and slid down the valley towards a large white stone that protruded out of the red sand. Isaac screamed in horror, and closed his eyes as he felt the large stone crush his head. Isaac coughed up some tears that he had mistakenly swallowed. His eyes became heavy and closed slowly as they were slowly covered in warm blood, tears and sand. Isaac welcomed his death as it slowly and painfully consumed him.

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