Eldian King, Kael Demetrius Fritz took his seat before the throng of boisterous men, young and old, encircling a central cookfire. Smoke clouded inside the din of the mead hall, rising and funneling through a hole in the ceiling. Sound echoed in the same manner and would have been overwhelming had he not spent each night the last few years of his life in a similar fashion.
He was planning. He had been planning for a long time.
At the King's side, stood his younger brother, Ray, only nineteen years of age, but equally as ferocious, if not more so, than himself.
Fritz waved his hand curtly at the young man, a signal that he was ready to resume their strategizing. His brother nodded, turning to the men with his shoulders squared.
"Quiet!" Ray commanded, driving the butt of his spear into the floor, the sound reverberating off each stone wall. "Let us begin again!"
Each man fell silent as Ray gestured for the map bearer to begin his presentation.
Felix, the general's cartographer, unfolded a billowing expanse of canvas before him, displaying the vast geography of their continent to the king and his trusted warriors.
The King's general, Tymus, a foreign yet trusted friend, saluted Fritz, his thinning golden curls trembling with the motion.
"Here are our two options!" Tymus announced to the mass of soldiers. "We can plan to move South," The general drew an imaginary line with a long stick in his right hand, ending at a city on the southern coast of the continent. "That will lead us to Eden. The first city."
The king nodded. That was where Fritz wanted to go, his final achievement, but how he could manage conquer such a city, and crush it so effectively that it would never rise again, had not even been revealed to him.
"However, if we branch out to the East—" Tymus circled a land mass of plains and rolling hills, dotted with both farming villages, and religious monasteries. There were rumors of gold and wealth sprinkled through the luscious agricultural territory, but not power.
Power was what Fritz wanted. Fear was the only crop he cared to glean.
"—There we can build up the slaves and resources it would take to amass an army to conquer Eden." Tymus continued, searching the men's faces for their objections.
"Eden hasn't been attacked in 300 years," One of the captains mused, pointing towards the mountain range that surrounded the city. "And no one's dared to travel through those mountains for just as long. I think we can compensate for our smaller army with the factor of surprise on our side."
A daring strategy, sure, but not one Tymus endorsed.
With a sigh, the general pointed to Eden once again, circling the massively thick walls that the city boasted.
"Even with 10,000 men," The general explained, "We would be spread thin surrounding the city, and that's practically suicide as it is—"
Some of the young men stood, aghast at their general's conservative spirit. They roared above their superiors, pounding their chests with their meaty fists in respect for their king.
"We would gladly shed our blood—"
"Calm down!" Ray shouted, humbling the rioting warriors with his command. He was younger than most of them but outranked them in position and experience, and they obeyed just the same as if their king had ordered them.
"Listen to your general unless you'd rather shed your blood in an execution ritual!"
The soldiers took their seats, thoroughly disappointed.
"Thank you, my lord the prince." Tymus cleared his throat, nodding as he looked to Fritz for support. "All I'm saying is, even with the element of surprise, taking Eden might be unnecessarily challenging. Especially with the option of going East. Conquest there would seem trivial compared to anything else we have endured thus far, and it would give us time to amass resources and soldiers…"
The king sighed, resting his head in his hand as he watched his captains debate with the tiring general.
Fritz had made an effort early on in his leadership to appoint the most passionate soldiers he could in his army. They made the best fighters and frightening armies. But it made strategizing difficult when their zeal melted into stupidity.
Tymus was a rarity when it came to their military. His passion displayed itself in meticulous thought and words, words that Fritz had come to value for their wisdom and experience. The reason for his general's obvious exemption from his usual standard of ferocity.
And once again, like his general suggested, Fritz knew the right course of action was to move east. Though it bored him to think that for the next few years he'd be piddling around with farmers and seers, instead of being immediately crowned the King of Eden.
But it was a price he must pay for the glory that would come later.
Besides, he doubted it would be truly boring, though it wouldn't be truly challenging. There were legends of mysterious quality surrounding the agricultural east, ones depicting magic and powers unknown from his origin in the North. Perhaps recruiting such powers to his side could be an asset, though not one that matched the King's own tangible power.
The king chuckled. No living man matched his power, or ever would. It had been a boyish vow he made to his father that he himself intended to keep.
No matter the cost.
"We'll go East!" Fritz declared, interrupting the squabbling captains without a care for what they were talking about. "Prepare camp for departure. Everyone is dismissed."
"Everyone is dismissed!" Ray echoed, prompting a salute from the warriors.
"Yes sir!" Their voices rang with excitement as they chanted their farewell in unison. "Hail, King Fritz of Eldia!"
Fritz nodded at their herald, watching them go, creating lines and columns as the soldiers filed out of the mead hall, forgetting their usual militant order, and chatting restlessly with their peers.
He remembered when he was like them, a soldier under his father's command. He knew their angst, and their youthful spirit, one that he'd learned to bridle soon after his father died.
He also knew their jealousy, another reason why he didn't care to hear their petty stories or give them any semblance of respect. He wouldn't allow them to get close to him. Barely anyone ever was.
"My lord," Tymus knelt before his King, he was one of the few Fritz permitted to leave at their own leisure. "Thank you for your support." Felix, the map bearer knelt as well, his head bowed low in respect.
"Thank you, Tymus." Fritz returned his friend's gratitude. "I trust your plan will lead us to victory."
His general nodded, gesturing once again at the map. "I sent spies ahead already, my lord, in anticipation of your decision."
Fritz nodded slowly. How shrewd of him.
"This village is the gateway of the east, it's a sizeable farming settlement, and has a population nearing a thousand."
"Men and women?" The king inquired.
"Yes," Tymus assured him. "But my men reported back they have no standing army…" His general let the statement hang in the air, almost visibly giddy with their good fortune.
"And why is that?"
"They've never been attacked. Ever."
"Surely they have," Fritz scoffed. There was no way the East could be full of such pacifists.
War had been his entire life since the moment he could walk. His father had trained him with a mantra of violence, and because of that Fritz knew it was the reason he was born into this world. He couldn't imagine existence without the thrill of conquest and a sword in his hand, and he laughed at those who did.
Idiots.
"I'm afraid they haven't. They have hunters, and weapons, but no formal military training or army."
King Fritz hardly understood how this land remained unconquered for so long, and with a swish of his scepter, he blessed his comrade's scheme.
"Then that is where we go, General." Fritz stood to his feet, approaching his friend with a smirk of his face. "We must teach these fools a lesson about the bitter truth of this world."
The weak have no place in it.
Ray mirrored his brother's demeanor, a ferocious gleam in his eyes. "We will barely need eight hundred men if this is the case. I'm sure we could do with less," the prince toyed with the idea, ambitious to needlessly prove their power.
"I will lead them if you wish, brother."
The king faced Ray, declining the suggestion with the burning rage of an authority scorned.
"The king will lead our army." Tymus explained for him, knowing exactly what his lord was thinking.
"And why waste his breath?" Ray laughed his embarrassment off, taking a step away from the King to look Tymus in the eyes. "These people aren't worth it."
"Tell him, Tymus." The King commanded, his voice a low growl.
The general smirked, nodding his head in reverence before he spoke. "As you wish."
Turning to the young man, the general looked him up and down carelessly before meeting his gaze with the explanation.
"King Fritz will lead the men as it is him and him alone who will usher in the Eldian age. No one else."
"Very good, General." Fritz purred, clapping his hands dully one, two, three times as he said the words.
"Very good."
The King left his brother and Tymus on the dais, striding out the mead hall with less than a glare goodbye. The two guards posted at the doors flanked him as he left, the clanking of their armor providing a beat to time his steps.
As he walked, the King of Eldia met the gaze of no one, his chin raised high as he approached his horse and mounted.
"Tell Tymus I want the troops prepared to leave by sunrise." The King barked to the nearest soldier, who nodded stoically in response. "I want the East conquered in two years." Darkness filled his gaze as he looked out towards the cloud lined horizon. The soldier saluted, turning on his heel to deliver the message as the King gripped the reins, his horse shifting restlessly beneath him.
"The Age of Eldia begins tomorrow."
Sand.
There was glittering sand as far as Ymir could see, but for some reason it was different than anything she'd dreamed before.
The sand wasn't a burning orange like the stories of the desert she had heard as a child. It was a glistening blue, like shards of broken glass, scattered in waves that rolled toward the horizon, meeting stars of white, blue, and brilliant purple that dotted the sky above.
And the stars were different too, broken with thick streams of silvery white, that segmented the entire sky. It was as though the white streaks moved, like a flowing river, interconnected, but still branching apart.
Was this the afterlife? Did she die in her sleep?
The only description that compared to this scene before her came from the village priests when they spoke of their trances of the world beyond. But even they claimed in the afterlife one joined the deceased for the rest of eternity. Here there was no one. It was a world bathed in as much silence as it was color.
Silence. Peace.
Freedom.
It was then she servant realized she was covered in the curious sand, buried all the way up to her shoulders, leaving her neck and face free from its earthen grip. With a grunt, she uncovered herself, dusting off her tunic and legs before standing to look around.
She noticed the silvery streaks above her all connected at a central point. The main stalk of the giant web burned bright enough to light the entire landscape, but not enough to burn her eyes as the sun did. It was beautiful, more impressive than anything the village seers had ever described, but not as impressive as what lay behind her.
As Ymir turned around for the first time, she was taken aback by towering structures that lay for miles beyond.
Giant men, or some type of being that resembled men, were constructed in droves with the packed blue sand. Some were small, the size of large trees, with strange looking faces and contorted expressions. Others were bigger, a few resembled women, but were athletically built and more intelligent looking. The last category stuck out most of all, mountainous creatures with small heads and lanky arms, looking as though they could crush her village with one footstep, or one breath if they wanted to.
But none of them breathed. None of them moved, or spoke, or looked at her. They were inanimate, and Ymir was grateful. For if they were real, she would be doomed.
"Good job."
Startled, the slave turned to her right, where a boy stood, a small smile contrasting his blazing green eyes.
"Thank you for your handiwork."
"Who—who are you?" Ymir stuttered, taking a step back from the dark-haired child.
"A friend." The boy said, extending his hand to gesture towards the monsters. "One that will make all this worth something."
All of what? The monsters?
"Trust me, Ymir. It has all just begun."
With those words she was whisked away. Delivered by her unconscious mind into the nightmares that had plagued her since the recent harvest. Visions of hateful men and spears trampling on her family, and her screams were never enough to stop them.