A.N. Thank you Scrying Phantom for the very nice review. I love your reviews. They give me a lot of motivation. Thanks to everyone for reading. Old Palamecian (Romanian) is written in italics below main dialog when it is spoken. Mysidian (Portuguese). Other italics by themselves are thoughts like usual. Please enjoy.
A Rose among the Ashes
Chapter: 14
"Woohoohoo! Yeah!" Firion exclaimed while leaning over the railing at the bow of the airship to watch the ground zoom by beneath them. Forests, lakes, rivers, mountains, and wavy grasslands. All passed underneath the soaring vessel in a blur and shimmer of colors.
"It seems your friend has a bit of the sky running through his veins," Cid commented to Maria while standing at the helm. Maria stood next to the Captain enjoying the sight of her comrade standing at the bow of flying vessel with the wind caressing his white hair and the excited, adventurous smile gracing his face. It had been quite some time, since she had seen him so happy.
"Firion! Come back over here before you fall overboard. I doubt Cid would stop to collect you," Maria called out over the wind and the hum of the small airship's engine as they sailed through the blue sky littered sparsely with thin, white clouds.
"I have got to get me an airship like this," Firion commented turning his body in a complete circle to view the entirety of the ship, as he walked over to Maria with an unusual skip in his step. The purple-haired archer smiled at him and grabbed his elbow to draw him closer beside her as she rested against the metallic rail framing the elevated platform around the helm where Cid stood piloting the airship.
"Perhaps you can get the good Captain to build one for you," Maria responded feeling great happiness in the light of joy and excitement reflecting in her comrades grey eyes at the thought.
"Perhaps I should! This machine is incredible!" Firion added situating himself next to his female companion while gazing up at the swiftly spinning propellers attached to all three masts of the airship that kept it afloat in the sky.
"However did you build it, Captain Cid?" the rebel questioned in curious amazement while turning his attention to the Captain. The young rebel earned a small laugh and an amused half-smirk from the older man.
"That would be a very long conversation, lad, but in short I simply plucked a vessel from the sea and gave her wings. She took many years, many prototypes, and many accidents that almost cost me my life. Worker after worker quit on me thinking an airship was an impossible dream, but in the end I was able to create the Sky Ferry," the Captain replied. Firion folded his arms and nodded with an impressed expression on his face, while gazing out over the varnished wood of the deck.
"W-Would it be possible for me to ever fly the airship…say, perhaps, in the near future," Firion inquired in a careful tone in an attempt to not rouse the Captain's protective nature of his prize creation. The cautious attempt failed. Cid narrowed his eyes at the youth and gripped the spokes of the helm possessively.
"Not on your life, boy. This craft wasn't built to be the victim of some foolish lad's joyride," Cid retorted while scoffing at the idea of the naïve, free-spirited rebel crashing his craft into the side of some isolated, desolate mountain in gods know where.
Firion frowned at the reply, but quickly shrugged off his disappointment and turned his attention back to his female companion still leaning against the airship's railing with him. He soon noticed the larger member of their party was nowhere in sight. An irrational panic rose in his mind that they might have forgot him back in Poft.
"Where is Guy?" Firion questioned suddenly gaining Maria's attention with the abrupt question.
"He is below deck resting. He has, what Cid calls, airsickness," Maria responded before pushing off the railing in a manner as if she just recalled something.
"That reminds me. I should probably go check on him. He is quite sick. I didn't want to leave him earlier, but he insisted he would be okay. You know how Guy can be," Maria commented while heading to the stairs that led below deck. A cold chill had begun to rise on the air, as they neared the northern territories. Most of which, in exception to the Salamandian and Semitt regions, were still under imperial occupation.
"We will be landing in Salamand, soon, so you three make ready to depart within the hour," Cid announced from his position at the open helm.
…
The search for the Fynnian princess was proving significantly more difficult than Leon could have ever imagined it to be.
"How can one woman be so elusive?" Leon thought while seated at the large wooden desk in his chambers.
The princess had been successful in evading the Empire since the beginning of the war, but the Emperor had never shown a true interest in her capture until now. Perhaps he was beginning to see her and her ever-expanding army of rebels as a dangerously growing threat to his campaign for world domination. He planned to make use of her in some way and in some new scheme. This much Leon could discern for himself.
Leon gazed down at a large map detailing the entire expanse of the southern and northern territories. He drummed his fingers against the lacquered wood of the desk either side of the map, as he studied its contents closely.
Imperial security had been tightened everywhere since Leon had been gifted his new mission, and the imperial scouts had begun to scrounge for any information regarding the Fynnian princess and the rebel headquarters. They had already begun to terrorize, interrogate, and torch villages and towns that failed to yield information regarding the rebels and their princess. The longer she concealed herself from the Empire, the greater the damage would be to her exposed followers. Eventually she would have to reveal herself, or risk losing everything she was striving to protect and restore.
The Princess Hilda had fled from the ruined kingdom of Fynn long ago at the birth of the war with a handful of members from several of Fynn's distinct noble houses. The King had been mortally wounded and was now presumed dead if not as good as since Fynn was sacked, and the death of the eldest Kashuan prince had also been confirmed quite some time ago. Prince Gordon, the youngest of the Kashuanian royal heirs, had not been seen since the attack, and he was a known coward. The Empire saw him as a small threat and was to be ignored for the time being.
Leon ran the tip of his finger down the map spread across his desk, as he read the characters of each town and village located in the southern territories aloud.
"Fynn…Gatrea…and Altair," he finished reading near the end of the continent before pausing his dark gaze over the last of the locations.
"Altair…," he repeated flattening his hand against the desk, as he straightened his posture. His gaze drifted absentmindedly around the atmosphere of his room, as his thoughts traveled about the small outpost town sitting almost on the very edge of the Fynnian continent just north of the country of Mysidia across the Serpent Sea, or the Mar da Serpente, as the mages call it. He remembered ordering the Dreadnought to attack the small town during his previous assignment given by the Emperor. Could such an insignificant, remote town have anything to do with the rebels?
A faint, shuffling noise from behind the Dark Knight interrupted his thoughts. He whipped around sharply and examined the vast expanse of his chambers. He soon caught sight of a small boy standing in the open chamber door holding a bundle of linens tightly in his thin, pale arms. The bundle was so large it almost completely obscured his small, thin form.
The child was scrawny and could not have been a day over the age of twelve. He had short, straight, unkempt brown hair, pale skin, and brown eyes and wore a moth-eaten, standard slave's garment.
Leon stared at the boy while discerning he was, indeed, a slave. Memories soon resurfaced about when he was first brought to Palamecia as a prisoner, himself, he had wondered how such an isolated empire could even have a slave trade if they did not even reach out beyond their own country economically. Upon returning from Bafsk, Leon had learned of the Empire's history of incredible self-sufficiency. The Emperor's ancestors and predecessors had dictated Palamecia in isolation for centuries. They controlled the people with magic, fear, and superstition, and the present day slaves were nothing more than the descendents of the first slaves from centuries prior that were the peoples of fallen, neighboring kingdoms long forgotten in the histories of yore.
Curiously, Palamecia did not see all slaves as equal to each other, as in other countries and kingdoms with similar customs in the trafficking of humans. A slave's life greatly depended on whom they served or the amount of skills they possessed. This gave them more worth than other slaves and servants that possessed less knowledge and skills, or those that were owned by a master of lesser wealth.
If they happened to belong to court nobility or even the Emperor, himself, they might be granted more privileges, wear better clothes, or eat better and etcetera. This still did not exempt them for the extraordinarily hard life of a person bonded to another as property, an object in which to be possessed by another in whatever way they saw fit.
The boy that stood before Leon, though, had to be one of the lowest of the low. Too young for such a life, illiterate, and filthy. He was malnourished and dressed in the common slave's rags, and he stared up frozen at Leon with scared and uncertain eyes. The child had most certainly seen the whip before because with each step Leon took towards him, the boy's spine curved ever so slightly forward, as if he was restraining the urge to quickly hunch down and throw his arms up over his head in a desperate attempt to protect himself.
"What are you doing here, slave?" Leon questioned sharply in mild agitation, as the boy peered up at him innocently through his dark lashes while awkwardly keeping his chin pointed down, as if cowering in fear. Leon did not like the custom of bonding men like property and had half a mind to attempt to negotiate with the Emperor to abolish it, but the young general knew he had nothing worth offering to avail his transient plea.
Silence filled the space between the pair, as the boy said nothing and continued to clutch his bundle like it was some type of makeshift shield from whatever imagined wrath expected to follow his present arrival. Leon sighed tiredly. Being ordered to capture a princess had put him under much unwanted strain, and now this child appears toying with his already conflicted emotions.
"I have no time for this," Leon thought while slowly kneeling before the boy to look him in the eyes.
"Do you not speak? What is your name?" Leon questioned in a gentler tone than before to try to coax the child into communicating with him. The child hesitated for a moment, but Leon waited patiently, and then, the slave finally decided to speak.
"I-I do not know your words, my lord," the young boy stammered in fearful anxiety.
"N-Nu știu cuvintele, domnul meu."
He had spoken in a strange tongue that Leon had recently heard upon coming into Palamecian employ.
Leon then realized why the child had not answered him immediately after being questioned, which was a dangerous thing to risk for a slave. He obviously did not know the common tongue. The Dark Knight had forgotten that most people, specifically humans, in Palamecia only spoke old Palamecian due to their centuries of isolation from the other nations. Only the demon military, which seemed to be multilingual, the Emperor, and a handful of imperial hierarchy and nobility knew the common tongue, which most of the world had adopted now over the last few centuries in exception to Mysidia. The Mysidians preferred to retain their ancient tongue and customs, as a way of preserving their history as the famed city of the magi. In certain ways, Mysidia much resembled Palamecia in their desire for isolation, though not as extreme as the latter, and their preservation of their nation's antiquity. The two magic-based nations mirrored each other in quite the opposite way such as how light does to dark.
During Leon's time in Bafsk, however, Althalos and some of the other demons, that did not outright despise him for his human heritage, had taught him a little of the Palameciantongue when time was free. He soon found he had a knack for the language, and foresaw it would probably be of use to him someday if he were to truly meld himself with the Empire. After all, this was his life, now. In a sense, his home.
"A strange thing to think. The Empire that took from me my home, now becomes my home," Leon thought staring down at the uncertain child, before placing his hand upon the small boy's bony shoulder causing him to slightly flinch. The young general had to think for a moment on his words before finally speaking to the boy in old Palamecian.
"That is fine, child, for I know a little of your words," Leon said suddenly in an accent he knew was not correct, but at least it was understandable.
"Asta este bine, copil, pentru că știți un pic de cuvintele tale."
The boy's head jerked up to Leon's with brown eyes wide and small mouth agape. He clearly had surprised the child with his knowledge of their language. Leon was not even sure if the Emperor knew he could speak and understand the Empire's native tongue, though more than likely he probably did. With the despot's recent display of telepathic ability, he probably knew more about the young general than he, himself, knew.
The small boy's posture and grip on the bundle had relaxed tremendously. He looked up at the general and smiled a bright, partially toothless grin. Leon, still kneeled before the child, allowed a small half-smile in return and rubbed his hand over the boy's scruffy head.
"What is your name?" Leon questioned.
"Care este numele tau?"
"I called Calix. I been sent to serve the great General L-…Le-…," the boy stammered.
"Am sunat Calix. Am fost trimis să slujească mare general L-... Le-..."
"Leon. Just Leon will do," Leon corrected as the boy scratched his head and smiled while nodding.
"Leon. Doar Leon va face."
"Calix understand, master L-e-o-n. I will work immediately," Calix replied dutifully.
"Calix înțelege, maestru L-e-o-n. Voi lucra imediat."
The child quickly scampered further into the chamber and began to work as if his life depended on it. Which, in his experiences with other masters, it probably had.
Leon originally planned to dismiss the boy upon getting him to speak, but as he watched the child diligently begin changing his bedding with the bundle of fresh sheets he had folded in his arms and cleaning anything that he could get his small hands on, the stoic willpower he normally maintained threatened to give way to an almost warm smile.
A part of him had missed children; since he was forced from his home and taken to fall into the employ of its very destroyers. Before the war, he had dreamt of one day raising a family like his father and mother had done before him, but now with his current situation, could he ever bring himself to start a family here, in the Empire? He thought naught. They would only serve as leverage to bind his hands to the Emperor tighter, should he ever refuse a task or mission given and display any kind of freewill outside of that which is given.
Leon suddenly felt disheartened at the thoughts drifting through his mind and stole another glance at the slave.
"Perhaps I could keep him around for a little while. As long as he doesn't make a nuisance of himself," Leon thought returning to his desk after a small moment of observing the overeager child slave.
After all, Leon knew the child was probably better off here than with some other callous noble or bloodthirsty demon master. Leon had witnessed the way many of the lesser slaves were treated, and it was enough to make his stomach churn at the thought of it becoming a small child's fate that had done nothing to deserve such a destiny. However, he was sure that this child had probably already experienced more than his fair share of pain and tragedy being born into such a life.
A hard knock was suddenly heard on the chamber door disrupting the Dark Knight's thoughts.
"What is it, now?" Leon questioned aloud while glancing at Calix, who was still busy with the general's large bed. Leon moved quickly from the desk and yanked open the heavy chamber door. A demon imperial stood on the other side with his fist raised in midair about to knock, again. He quickly lowered his clawed hand and saluted.
"Apologies, General Leon, I have come to report that additional ground forces have been mobilized in search of the Princess according to your orders. The Dreadnought shall be ready to take flight, again, whenever you so desire, General Leon, in aid of your search," the demon informed as Leon nodded his head in understanding.
"Good, is that all?" Leon questioned as the soldier looked like he still had more to say. He paused for a moment before continuing.
"The imperial court will be holding a meeting later in the council chamber. Your presence is requested," the soldier replied as Leon raised a dark brow. He had never been admitted to an imperial council before.
"A new responsibility as general, no doubt," Leon thought.
"What time?" he questioned to the imperial soldier bearing the information to him.
"The hour before midnight, sir," the imperial responded.
"You may tell the Emperor, he can expect me there, tonight," Leon concluded watching the imperial salute, again, before dismissing him and closing the chamber door. He had much work to do in his search for the Fynnian princess, and no doubt, the Emperor will want a report on the progress of such an important task.
…
The sky had grayed upon reaching the region of Salamand, and the chill of the icy wind forced the group to don thicker cloaks to protect themselves from the frosty weather, especially at so high an altitude. Light flecks of snow fell from the sky, as they passed over deep blue glaciers, snowy mountain peaks, and dark green, alpine forests.
"Brace yourselves ladies and gents, we're about to land!" Cid called out over the gusts of wind billowing around the ship. Firion and Maria peered down over the railing, and through the white clouds of fog and snow, they could see the icy village of Salamand.
"I'm gonna land us in the outskirts, so you'll have to rough it from there," Cid informed while rapidly turning the spokes of the helm, as he maneuvered the ship into a clearing out of reach from the tall wintry forests that partially blanketed the vast, white mountains.
"Not a problem. We've traveled this land, before," Firion replied as Cid carefully landed the airship into an isolated expanse outside of the village of Salamand. The propellers steadily slowed and the hum of the engine faded, as the ship stilled completely on the powdery, white ground.
Maria had vanished below deck to retrieve Guy, who was still huddled below, green-faced and hugging a tin pale for dear life. Once they returned above deck, they found that Cid had jumped down from the ship into the snow to inspect the outer hull of the flying vessel, while without Cid's knowledge, Firion had snuck his way to the helm of the ship and was studying anything his eyes could find of the craft to inspire a wishful flyer's curiosity. He soon noticed his two comrades had returned and the young rebel swiftly made his way over to Guy, whose face had begun to gain color, once more, at having found land, again.
"You okay, Guy?" Firion checked grasping Guy's shoulder firmly as if to make sure he was still whole. The larger rebel nodded silently in response while wiping the sheen of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and taking a deep, revitalizing breath.
"Guy ready to find Kashuan key," the large male said with a hint of weariness at the recent strain of being airsick. The trio of freedom fighters departed the airship down its landing ramp. Cid was still busy examining the outside of the hull when the rebels approached him.
"How much do we owe, you, Captain?" Firion questioned as Cid did not even glance at them. Just held his hand out expectantly.
"Three hundred and fifty," Cid responded snapping his fingers impatiently while the young rebel retrieved his gil pouch and dug out the currency.
"Is that with the employee discount?" Maria questioned sarcastically, as the older man laughed at her while accepting the money from Firion.
"A man's gotta eat, lass. I can't just go giving out free airship rides to every needy hero that comes along, especially since most of them will probably never return -and I don't give a warerat's ass about what noble cause it's for. I need my gil and that's the long and short of it," Cid responded gruffly.
The sound of rapidly crunching snow suddenly drew their attention, as a mounted chocobo swiftly approached the airship in its flurry of pale, yellowish feathers and came to a stop just before the group. A rebel soldier from a local base sat atop of it gazing down at them with cautious suspicion.
"Are you the three from Altair that the Wild Rose sent?" the man questioned watching the group nod in response. He, unknowingly, let out a long sigh of relief.
"We saw your airship land and feared the worse, but I am happy to know it is friends that have come to visit us. I assume you're here to speak with Josef. I will lead you to the village. We are still under grave threat from imperial soldiers attacking travelers, mythril caravans, and rebel soldiers in these parts. Please follow me," the soldier stated while pulling on the reins of the beautiful golden land-fowl, and turning to lead them on through the wintry gates of Salamand.
"Farewell Captain Cid," Firion said as the party turned away from the mounted chocobo to see Cid still tending to his ship.
"Heh! Don't go getting yourselves killed. Too many have wasted their lives in aspirations of similar noble causes," the Captain replied as Firion shrugged his shoulders.
"But you, yourself, said that your airship began as just a dream, an aspiration, which most saw as impossible. If you had taken them at their words, you would not be sailing the skies, today now, would you?" Firion replied watching the Captain shake his head with a smudge of a smile hidden beneath his moustache.
"Kids…think they know everything," Cid mumbled under his breath before turning fully to face the young rebel.
"Let's make a deal, kid, to see how grown-up you really are," Cid began. Maria groaned and placed her hands on her hips.
"Men and their deals. Who knows what he will try to swindle Firion out of, and Firion's naïve enough to agree," Maria thought watching her pale-headed comrade ponder the idea before coming to his decision.
"Alright. What kind of deal did you have in mind, Captain?" Firion questioned as Cid smirked.
"If you actually manage to destroy that flying hunk of metal, I'll teach you how to pilot the Sky Ferry. If you fail, I get to piss on your grave," Cid proposed watching Firion's face light up like a glowing sky stone.
"Deal!" the young rebel exclaimed in unsuppressed excitement as Maria and Guy gaped at him. Cid's smirk faded to seriousness, and he held his hand out to the rebel.
"We shall seal it like men," Cid stated as Firion quelled his giddiness and nodded solemnly while accepting the Captain's hand.
"Good luck, Firion," Cid added releasing his hand and nodding his respects to Maria and Guy, as well.
As the Rebel's walked away, Firion stole one last glance at the Sky Ferry.
"It truly is a remarkable ship," the young rebel thought while following his comrades and the rebel soldier away from the snowy clearing and into the village.
The arctic town of Salamand was a good deal warmer in spirit than the rebel's remembered now that the Empire had been completely driven out. The bodies that once hung in the trees as a kind of heinous warning had been taken down and given proper burials, and men, woman, and children, were out and about the cobblestone streets attending to their daily duties. A wondrous glow lit up the town in contentment, and the rebels knew this was what they wanted for the rest of the world. Complete liberation from the horrid clutches of the Palamecian Empire.
After they worked their way through the persistent crowds that wanted to greet the returned heroes from Fynn, they finally came to Josef's house on the outskirts of the town. Almost immediately, a high-pitched child's voice was heard calling to a particular rebel.
"Guy! You're back!" the child exclaimed joyously as the rebels quickly caught sight of Josef's daughter, Nelly, running down the steps of the cottage and practically flying into the large rebel's arms. Guy caught her immediately and lifted the small girl up onto his shoulders.
"Nelly miss Guy?" Guy questioned smiling as the young girl nodded grasping the thick, brown locks of his hair with her tiny hands to steady herself atop his shoulders.
"Daddy saw your airship land outside the village and sent someone to get you. At first, everyone thought the Empire had come back," Nelly stated as the group made their way to the small house. Nelly's stepmother stood on the porch and waved to the rebels. Josef large frame soon filled up the open doorway of the cottage, before he emerged onto the porch beside her. He gazed stoically down at the three youths.
"What brings you three kids here?" Josef questioned in his usual gruff way of speaking. Firion glanced at Maria and smiled before turning back to the tall, largely built man.
"Friendly visit," the pale-headed rebel replied vaguely as Josef studied the group more closely.
"You are one less than last time. Where's that old mage, Minwu?" the large Salamandian questioned, as Maria decided to answer that question.
"He couldn't come with us because of the Dreadnought's attack. He must remain in Altair with the king and the rest of the wounded," Maria replied as Josef nodded understandingly in solemn silence.
"Salamand was certainly blessed with the luck of the gods to be spared such an attack. The Empire must pay for what they have done, before they have the chance to commit their previous crimes, again," Josef said sternly.
"Come. Let's go in and get away from this cold," Josef said welcoming the rebels into the small house.
The evening in Salamand had been one of comfortable peace even amidst the icy, unforgiving but beautiful terrain. The lady of the house had made them a heavy and delicious supper, and they all had visited and shared tales of happier days that took place before the Empire's invasion.
The woman served them a hot, spiced tea afterwards, and now the three young rebels and Josef sat in the living room before the fire. Josef lit his old, intricately carved, wooden pipe before gazing at the three rebels in all seriousness.
"Now that you three kids have thoroughly enjoyed my hospitality, it is time you told me why you are really here. I doubt the three of you have come all this way north, on an airship of all things, just for a friendly visit. You can save such niceties for after the war," the ex-knight spoke and after it was silent for a moment, before Firion decided to speak and divulge their newly given mission.
"Princess Hilda has tasked us with destroying the Dreadnought," Firion revealed watching the pipe almost slip from Josef's stern mouth and his dark eyes widened in shock at the statement. The large man gaped at them for a moment in a stunned quiet for a few seconds, as if he could not find the words to question the Princess's wisdom.
"You are to destroy the Dreadnought, and her majesty sent you three on this mission, alone?!" Josef questioned disbelievingly as Firion nodded in silence. The ex-knight sounded almost angry at the reveal of their mission.
"Does he have such little faith in us, even after all we have done for him and this village's people?" Firion thought before hearing Maria's gentle voice rise up over the tension.
"Princess Hilda believes us to be the only ones capable, and everyone else is too busy with the aftermath of the recent attack. We're the only ones who can carry out this mission," Maria answered for her pale-headed comrade. Josef scoffed at this and shook his head.
"To believe the day would come when we would have to rely on our own youths to save us," Josef said shaking his head while standing from his seat to lean against the mantle.
"I suppose it is the only way. The old order has fallen. Disbanded. The warriors of the Wild Rose has faded into memory…now, all our people can do is rely on their children to save them. Gods be merciful to us, and perhaps the Empire won't swallow us whole like a serpent devouring a weakened prey," Josef muttered before turning away from the fireplace to face the rebels.
"What does this have to do with me?" Josef inquired.
"What do you know of an ancient Kashuanian key hidden somewhere here in a cave," Firion questioned as a look of remembrance took the older man's expression.
"Ah, you seek the Goddess's Bell. So, your mission will take you to Kashuan Keep?" Josef inquired as the rebels nodded in response.
"Need Sunfire to destroy Dreadnought," Guy revealed before Firion interjected impatiently.
"Goddess's Bell? So, you know where it is?" Firion questioned eagerly as the older man nodded. Their journey had not been in vain. The ex-knight could aid them, and this made the young rebel feel like the mission to destroy that Imperial flying, death contraption could be reality.
"I can correct what I could not do before. I can pay my dues, now. Mother…Father…forgive me for my weakness," Firion thought in silent prayer while waiting for Josef's response.
"Aye, lad, it is hidden at the far edge of the Snow Field in a cavern beneath a lone cluster of mountains," Josef answered while absentmindedly allowing his broad fingers to trace the intricate engravings on his pipe.
"I was entrusted with its location long, ago, by the late village elder when I first came to live here. The elder recognized my skill as an ex-Fynnian knight and charged me with protecting the Kashuanian relic in his place. Why such an ancient artifact was hidden all the way out here so far from Kashuan, I do not know," Josef explained as the rebels listened intently.
"Only the voice of a Kashuanian can open the doors to the Keep. Anyone else must ring the Goddess's Bell and release the magic sealed inside, but it was only meant to be used once in times of the direst need, so you must take care, for after it is rung it will shatter," Josef added pacing slightly in front of the fire before continuing.
"Since I am the only one with knowledge of its location, I will travel with you to retrieve it. You will need my assistance if you ever hope to obtain the Goddess's Bell. The number of Imperial soldiers in the area continues to increase," Josef said gravely while pausing his pacing in thought.
"It's as if they are searching for someone. They scourge the entirety of the southernmost of the northern continent ravaging and burning small, remote villages as they go. Things are getting more dangerous for any under the suspicion of aiding the rebels," Josef revealed as a look of saddened, disgust took the rebel's faces. They knew, all too well, the pain of losing one's home to the barbaric ways of the Empire. To watch your family, town, and kingdom burn to ash before your very eyes. They knew all too well, what that was like.
"I have already sent word to the Princess concerning these recent occurrences. I can only hope it reaches her, before the Empire decides to make another drastic move on par with the destruction and bloodshed they just recently committed," Josef said with a tired sigh before Firion stood respectfully and bowed to the older man in gratitude.
"We are happy and grateful that you will be joining our party, Josef, thank you," Firion said as Josef nodded sharply before emotion decided to take him and resituated himself by the fire.
"We will leave at dawn. I will have to retrieve my snow craft that I hid in Semitt before the imperials invaded. We cannot hope to cross the Snow Plains without it. We would freeze to death before ever reaching the cavern," Josef said as the others nodded in understanding.
"Then I suppose we should get some rest. It promises to be a long journey, tomorrow," Maria said standing from her seat with the others to retreat to their beds.
"Pray rest well, young rebels, tomorrow we will see if you are truly the warriors of the Wild Rose we all think and hope that you are…"
To be continued…