.::Prologue: Tipping Scales::.
The town smoldered still.
Fires still burned in some areas, eating away at little bits of buildings; what little was still standing. The valley where the city had once called home was still burning, the trees broken and charred. The smoke marred the sky, making it black. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Kneeling, she picked up a handful of the soil beneath her black boots, letting it slip between her fingers. This was the second town to be attacked, and it had not been so long ago, the dirt still warm as it fell to the ground. They had been too slow, aware of the attack too late. She could feel the three men behind her in their silent shock. She did not blame them. The amount of destruction, the devastation done to the town was... chilling.
Her black cloak billowed around her, the wind stronger in the ruined town itself than it had been on the plateau of the cliff behind them where their guymelefs waited. The wind fanned the flames, which was why they had not yet been extinguished. The guards from the nearby castle had fought, but they had died in the end. Guymelefs lay broken around the town like skeletons, their manipulators as dead as the machines inside. Whoever had attacked the village had been methodical, efficient, and deadly. She could almost see the path they had taken. This had not been a raid, or random attack. There were other towns, other more significant towns in the neighboring areas. This one had been chosen. It had been calculated, and well-planned..
It had been a message.
"My lady," said one of the commanders behind her, his dark armor highlighted with red from the nearby dancing flames.
Tearing her eyes from the desolate scene, she spun on her heel, the sudden urgency in leaving overtaking her. The attack had not been long ago: the perpetrators could still be in the area.
"We must return," she said, walking swiftly down the path to return to the plateau above them.
"Was there nothing to be done, m'lady?" asked one of the three, who followed suite, eyes watching the brushes for signs of spies.
"No. Whoever it was attacked too swiftly, and too stealthily to be noticed. They didn't stand a chance," she added, low voice dark with the knowledge of one who has seen such tactics before.
"What of the other kingdoms?" asked the second commander, a more middle-aged man who bore a scar down one cheek.
"I fear, commander, that soon enough, they will be made aware of the enemy. Somehow, I doubt that this was an intentional attack-- it was not meant for them." She increased her pace, the air seeming more tense than before, like the build-up of electricity before lightning strikes. It sent shivers down her arms. The men behind her took her signal silently, and moved faster up the cliff.
"Will they be at risk?" he inquired, moving around a large boulder in the path.
The silence stretched uncomfortably as they continued to make their way up the winding path.
"My lady?"
"I wish I could say I doubt it, but... I don't."
A sudden noise caught her attention: a sharp crack from the forest next to the still-burning village. All four turned their heads, as trees fell, and three guymelefs decloaked and turned their heads towards the group.
"Move!" she snapped coldly, and the four moved quickly up the cliff.
The guymelefs had destroyed the village to lure them out into the open. A trap. Not particularly intricate, but it had worked. If they had destroyed one of their villages to get to them..
Fate, hand-in-hand with the enemy, would draw the other kingdoms in as well.
Peace was coming to an end.