Prelude to Peace

Potentis - Mercy

Potentis

Mercy

Lance woke up face down on the beach, lying on top of a large piece of wood.  His red wool shirt was torn and his black pants had holes burned in them.  He stood up slowly, forcing his eyes to focus.  It couldn’t have been long since he was knocked off of his ship.  The pirates attacked out of nowhere, surrounding the Potentis vessel, hammering it with broadside blasts and even daring to board the ship.  Lance smiled.  They had been brave, but foolish.  By now, they were either running for their lives or they were dead.  Those tactics couldn’t defeat The Noble House of Potentis, at least not when undisciplined pirates were using them.

            A few feet away from him was his black greatsword, the red magical inscription on it glowing slightly from recent use.  His father had given him that sword for his eleventh birthday, and he had immediately chosen to go out and test it in battle.  That is why he had joined Lord Fallowbridge in his assault on a newly built pirate stronghold off the coast of Bloodwash Shore in the southern tip of the Potentis landholdings.  Being larger and stronger than most children his age, Lance was accustomed to using heavier weapons, and this one had immediately become his favorite after its first use.  The steel blade of the sword had been washed clean by the ocean as Lance drifted through it.  He picked it up and examined it carefully.  The ruby eyes of the golden wolf’s head on the pommel shone brightly as daylight glinted off of them.

            He had his sword now.  He wasn’t seriously injured, though that wouldn’t have stopped him even if he were.  Now he had to get himself found.  Looking around the beach he saw nothing but sand and a few crabs scuttling along, ignorant of the battle that took place out at sea.   There was a line of coconut trees marking the entrance to a small jungle on the island.  Lance walked up to a tree and began looking around for signs to tell him which island he was on.  The islands off of this shore weren’t normally inhabited, but they had been used as staging points for attacks by the other four noble houses.  Now they were used by pirates to plunder lightly guarded coastal villages.  The pirates took advantage of wars waged on the mainland that would draw the attention and resources of the nobles away from the coast.  For the past few years it looked as if there would be a new round of fighting taking place between the Saevitia and the Potentis, so they had been planning their attacks by prodding and poking the shoreline for the weakest place to attack.  Lord Fallowbridge’s assault was formed to stop them before they found it.

            Lance walked through the trees.  In the distance was a slowly rising hill that led to a high peak, and the closer he got to it the more he recognized it.  The stone of the peak was burned black at the very top, and there were pieces missing off of the cliff side that were burned black as well.  This island was known to his people as Wisdom’s Folly because of a failed attack that had been staged here by the Sapiencia a century before.  A group of powerful Sapiencia mages had gathered on the peak of the small mountain on the edge of the island to defeat the Potentis defense of the shore that was preventing their own navy from attacking.  They had failed miserably when a cannonball had killed several of them during the ritual, causing massive magical feedback that permanently scarred the peak and killed all of the Sapiencia forces on the island.  The enemy nobles had been decimated in the confusion by the defender’s counter attack and the surviving ships had been forced back to their homelands to lick their wounds.  Lance had just heard that story told the other day by his dramatic friend Valencia.  He smiled as he remembered how he helped her act out the scene where the Potentis naval commander cut down her weakling rival during the counterattack.

            Well, at least I know where I am, Lance thought as he made his way through the jungle. 

These islands were large enough for people to live on, but the people of the shore villages had never shown any interest of building anything out here.  There was a small clearing ahead where trees had been chopped down to make room for people to sit.  In the middle of the clearing was soaked firewood.  There were two blankets and a sleeping bag still lying on the ground.  The boy searched around for signs of who might have been there and where they might have gone, and quickly found three pairs of footprints that went straight to the blackened peak of Wisdom’s Folly.