Eight hundred and one years ago
Cil entered the council room, circling the large center table to get to her place. Even before she’d taken her seat, she said, “This war room will now come to order.” Lowering herself onto her throne, she did a mental head count. Twenty-six, that’s everyone.
The large room had tall ceiling, with stained glass windows of various colors. The sun shined through the painted glass, casting beautiful murals of color on the table and seated occupants of the room. Each individual had a set of maps with different places. One of the entire one-continent world, the stone desert and surrounding countries, southwestern countries, southeastern countries.
“The Coalition is growing stronger and getting closer to discovering our position,” Cil began, “But they’ve got a lot of ground to cover. We have four weeks at best until they reach this church and we have to make our last stand. We have few options. Running east and circling down to a calmer country is one of them, but to do that in time, we’d have to leave in one week.”
“Commander?” Allherion requested permission to speak. He was the general combat master of their remaining selves. Before their people’s termination, he led a group of twenty-thousand into war, under Cil and her husband.
“You may speak, general.” She knew what he was going to say, as most probably did, but it was always nice to actually hear the words.
“As general of battle and protection of you all, I feel it’s my duty to keep you all safe in any way.” He inhaled, “However, running away is the least honorable thing to do, especially when we can win this war.”
Cil smiled, “I share your confidence, General Allherion, as I’m sure we all do. My job is to present every option and let you all decide on which to carry out.”
Yulon stood to his feet, “I think we can all agree on the general’s proposal.”
Nodding came from every seat of the council.
“Very well,” Cil continued, “Then we stay. There are three possibilities of victory that I can see. None of them will be easy or relaxing, but they’re all plausible.”
“With respect, Commander,” Yulon said, still standing, “I think we’re all more than willing to do whatever it takes to punch the Coalition in the face.”
Another round of nods.
“Thank you, Yulon. You may take your seat.” Cil said forcefully, but not angrily. She shared his excitement and his opinions thus far, but she wanted everyone paying attention. “We have the most dangerous path. We can spend the next few weeks training with the sword, as I know most of us haven’t wielded a sword before. Then we go to battle with every army they send our way.”
Skeptical looks. Not the greatest plan, Cil could admit, but not the worst. “The Ashurans put anyone who can hold a blade onto the battlefield, left with no training. They swing wildly, like animals. Some of them aren’t even strong enough to perform a stab.”
A hand shot into the air.
“Yes, Senueta?” Cil addressed the doctor.
Her voice was quiet and reserved, like she was making a great effort to speak, “Isn’t that what we’d be doing? Four weeks of training can hardly transform someone into a warrior. Especially one as weak and peaceful as me.”
“These people won’t even have the four weeks we’ll have. Some of them will be children picked from the streets and stuck inside a suit of armor.”
