Reviewer Response:

To SatelliteBlues: Thanks for the input. I fixed the errors you pointed out. I'm doing my best to keep everything grammatically correct while adding some higher-level usage such as em dashes. And I absolutely need to proofread more often. Just because things look and feel right when I type it doesn't mean that they are right. Thanks again for the advice.

A Quillum Only Chapter

Chapter 9: Roads to War

Song: Long Live the King – Twilight Force

Today was a day in Quillum that would be remembered for a long time to come. It was deployment day for the army. Buteos all across the kingdom were looking forward to this day; the old waiting for that promise long ago to be fulfilled and the young wanting revenge for the travesty of Cynder's attempted assassination of the royal family and the sabotage that she intended to do to the army. The soldiers based close to the port city of Brandsbury would be the first to be loaded up on the transport ships and would be the first ones in the landing.

For the soldiers involved, it was also a ceremonial event. Bevan, Jadney, and Field Martial O'Brian would be present, so all those involved were shining their weapons and armor, and polishing their boots. This was all about being presentable, and they were not going take the chance of being reprimanded for not looking the part even though they would only be marching half a mile to the pier. A half-mile or not, they were going to look their best. If anything, they were going to look their best for the onlooking citizenry whose desire for vengeance – retribution for the events of the past and now the present – they now had to deliver upon.

Lyle was lucky that despite how far away they were from the coast, they had their horses to ride with haste. He was filled with a strange sense of loneliness as other units stationed close to the beach that had already completed their required cleaning was spending what remaining time they could with their families. He did not have that opportunity. His mother was still at Mystic Springs, where she was still dealing with the legal processes that involved the death of Derick. On that thought, he wondered what her opinion was of him going off to war. Did she support him in an effort for her to feel like his death had been avenged? Or did she not want him to go for fear of him getting killed? Lyle had not reached the opportunity to ask her.

There was a degree of anxiousness in Lyle that he had not felt before. It wasn't the march – or in his case, the ride – to the pier that bothered him, it was the fact that he was finally going to be gone from all that he was familiar with. Traeblesh was a place that he could go to the far corners of the continent and still be comfortable. Even as a common Buteo, he could still get along with the many other kinds of Buteos on Traeblesh, such as Red-Tailed, Rough-legged, Grey, and even rarer groups like the Ferruginous, but they were all still Buteos at heart. Going to the Dragon Realms would be quite literally going off to a strange land in which he had no knowledge of, much less the ability to relate with.

He could see everyone in his unit feeling the same way. They had each other, sure, but that's all that they had. Here sits the nation's finest to-be, more or less scared to go off to war. It might have been normal feeling to have for first-time deployments, but veterans from the war against the dark army were far and few between within the military ranks to look up to for guidance. Since there was nobody to look to for advice, they would be lead blindly into battle with what training that they had. There was no telling either if their training that they had already done would have been practical or not against the foe that they were to be facing.

They were gathered together at a barracks where they lounged about and waited for the order to get into formation. They all talked together about what they were going to do when the war is over. It was rather early to talk about things like that already, but they were running out of ideas for a conversation.

"So, Lyle, what will you do after the war is over?" One of his fellow soldiers asked him. His name was Ian, a twenty-one-year-old Long-legged Hawk that came the far north. It was by accident that he was placed in cavalry instead of the artillery corps. Still, he quickly learned that cavalry was more exciting for him than ramming two-piece ammunition into a six-inch artillery piece.

"I think that I'll use the money I get from this to buy my own piece of land somewhere. The rest of my family and I can move there and live in comfort instead of having to toil every day just to keep going."

"Buy land? We are going to be invading bountiful lands ripe for the taking! Why buy fifty acres of land when you can just claim five thousand?" The Buteo said enthusiastically. Lyle hadn't thought of claiming conquered lands as their own. He was more under the impression that they were occupying the land for the sake of pushing the enemy's lines back.

"It wasn't my first idea, but now that you mention it, there is certainly going to be quite a lot for the taking." Lyle mused over the idea of having such a large plot of land – over seven square miles as a matter of fact. There was a lot that could be done with that large portion of land. The idea of becoming a landlord was appealing, but having to manage all of it was not on his agenda.

Another Buteo spoke up. "I'm gonna use the money I earned to start my own business." Her name was Erin. She was one of the many females in the Royal Army and the few in the cavalry corps. "There's a market out there for handmade crafts. I can make the products myself or have them ordered from artisans. Either way, it's a win for all involved." She came from a family living in the deep forest. In its isolation, there was a shortage of business and wandering traders that made the rigorous journey to the mostly self-sufficient township. With that, luxury goods were in high value, and there was no competition for them there either, and there were a lot of people who secretly yearned for something of value.

"Hey, Erin. Since you can't find a boyfriend, maybe you can make yourself something to ple –"

"Don't even go there, Kinn!" Kinn was the leader of their cavalry group. To say that he was unpopular was an understatement. He was born into a family of Earls, which inevitably lead to a self-centered and stuck-up personality. With that, it also leads him to the misconception that it meant that he could insult anyone that he wanted to and get away with it. Even if it was in the most demeaning ways. Erin was not the kind to stand down and take it. "You couldn't keep it in your pants long enough to keep you from getting diseased by a harlot!"

Everyone laughed at the insult while Kinn became visibly red under the feathers on his face. Erin got had hit him where it hurt the most metaphorically speaking. "You're a bitch, you know that?"

"Yeah, a bitch that won't be suffering from 'leakage,'" she said in air quotes. The room erupted into more laughter. Kinn wanted to crush her beak for that, there was no way that he could get out of being reprimanded for that, and there was nothing that he could do to rebuke her for insulting him, leader or not.

"Listen here, you little! – " Kinn paused. There was no way that he could get out of this situation without digging himself into an even deeper hole. Erin had won, and there was nothing that he could do to get back on top again. "Whatever. Make sure you got your shit shined for the show."

"Already have."

"Ju-just shut up."

They all went back about their conversations, waiting for the notice to don their equipment and mount their horses. Others in the unit occasionally pipped up with conversations and carried them on in and out of their social groups while others sat away brooding to themselves. Although they all shared one emotion no matter how much they tried to hide it or how intense each one felt: fear.

/\/\/\

Bevan and Jadney both worn regalia for the occasion that they were attending. Jadney wore the typical fancy dress and jewelry while Bevan wore an ornate but functional set of armor; it was meant to be seen as a symbolic gesture. Being that the declaration of war was also an order for military mobilization, there was really no need for the ceremony to happen in the first place other than for the morale boost the people of the nation and the soldiers that were being deployed.

Similarly to the cavalry soldiers of Fort Ledura, they were able to make haste to the coastline thanks to the power of horse-drawn carriages, although this time with a sooner departure time. Even with an increase in the time that they were given, that didn't mean that they were going to be early. Instead, they were pushing it thanks to a poorly placed pothole and a snapped axle. They made it through, and with just enough time to see the soldiers getting into marching formation on the boulevard to the pier where dozens of ships lay waiting to be boarded.

The boulevard that the soldiers would walk down met up at a roundabout. Inside of the roundabout was an ancient stronghold that survived not only the test of time but the sudden and swift attack of Malefor and the invasion of the dark army. In symbolic terms – which was all this event pretty much was – this was the best place to have the ceremony. They stood up on a stronghold balcony where they watched the soldiers below get into formation for the march to the pier.

"Jadney, do you think that it was a good idea to dress up like this? I look a bit silly," Bevan asked. Jadney was in the same boat as Bevan. Instead of being equipped in a painstakingly but masterfully forged set of ceremonial armor, she was draped in multiple layers of heavy, finely sewn cloth.

"You look fine. If anything, you are better off than I am. You've got a basic set of clothes underneath all that metal. Meanwhile, I've got on layers of clothing that are frankly uncomfortable to wear in all this heat." The weather on the coast was usually more welcoming to those that visited, but today was not one of those days.

"If you hate it that much, you could always go naked to the parade," he jested with no intention of being serious. He got back a suggestive look.

"So you're saying that you want me to be naked, hmm?"

"No, no, no, oh the gods no, don't do that! That's not what I meant!" Bevan stumbled over his words. She only laughed in response.

"Then be careful of what you say; otherwise, your cheeks will get as red as your tail feathers."

"Dammit, Jadney..."

"I'll take that as a compliment. How's that speech you prepared? I suppose that you are prepared to deliver it."

"Yes, yes, I am." He pulled out pages of paper, somehow keeping them tucked firmly between his chestplate and undershirt. "It's more bullet points of things to touch on." Jadney cracked a small smile.

"You won't do sometimes," she said dismissively, shaking her head slightly while doing so.

"I do my best."

They both stood on the balcony, continuing to watch the organization staff getting the soldiers in formation. A timepiece read that it was two-fifty in the afternoon. The parade was scheduled to take place at three. There would not be a long wait before it was to begin. People had already begun to gather to watch the spectacle. There was a lot more than Bevan had anticipated. He wasn't going to have much of a voice afterward. And there was no time to stop once he started.

…

"To the people of Quillum, young and old, healthy and sickly, the day has finally arrived. For those of you that are old enough to remember, our great kingdom came under threat by the Dark army. The centerpiece of the army of apes was a group of barbaric dragons, which you know has caused numerous deaths and casualties that any trip to a library will confirm through a myriad of books on the subject. And as many of you now know, a lone black dragon made its way to our great kingdom and attempted to take the lives of me, my loving wife Jadney, head alchemist Bradan, and promised to kill many more. I can now, with confidence, say that the threat that the black dragon posed to us has been neutralized.

"We stand here today gathered for one thing and one thing only: to avenge our fallen family members and to seek justice for their transgressions. Long ago, a dragon revered by their entire society destroyed our kingdom, The First Kingdom of Quillum. The dark age that followed divided our already fracture society further – putting Buteo against Buteo in a desperate bid for power and recognition. However, we refused to fade into history. With the House of Raemes successfully able to restore the kingdom in age, we were finally on our way to repairing the damage from the kingdom's collapse and the dark age.

"Our age of healing was finally reaching its end twenty years ago. Twenty years ago, we were finally returned to the height of power that we had previously and were restored to our former glory. That would all be interrupted by the Dark Army when they landed on our shores. The dragons that they brought with them were a force that we were not prepared to fight. They slaughtered us by the thousands without any remorse or regret and absolutely reveled in the fact that we were so unprepared for them.

"If it was not for the valiant efforts of the platoon of magic soldiers, there might no be a Kingdom of Quillum today. We had success after success that lead in their withdraw and allowed to finally turn the tide of battle. We pushed the apes back to the ocean, where they drown in the brine and blood. In the interests of the people, my late father, King Dylan, set in motion an ambition program: a military buildup and invasion of the homeland of the dragon. We are ready for it.

"We've amassed a little over one million soldiers! We've made unprecedented technological advancements – more in the past twenty years than the past thousand years! We've unlocked a magical potential within each of us! And if they think that we aren't able to accomplish our desires, then let them feel our steel!"

…

The soldiers and the citizenry alike let loose a massive cheer. With that, the soldiers began their march down to the pier where they would the transport ships. Some ships were new-age steamers with all-metal construction, some were wooden sailing ships, some were a combination with steam engines retrofitted with masts and sails still present for when winds were prevalent and in their favor. It was truly a marvelous sight to see. As the soldiers marched, people cheered them on and threw out flower petals that floated in the warm wind.

Both monarchs walked back within the stronghold and plotted out their next decision. The massive weight on Bevan's shoulders was finally lifted. Finally, his efforts and those of his father before him had have paid off. Now it was the responsibility of Field Marshal O'Brian to oversee the operations of the military. With that, he finally had more time to spend on other issues other than the royal decree that he was forced to follow thanks to the slyness of his father. Maybe even now, he had more time to spend with his significant other.

In retrospect, the parade was a success in all aspects. For the monarchs, there was finally time to spend on other things. For the soldiers, it was a well-needed morale boost that put away their anxiousness and gave them a sense of confidence that they previously did not have. And for the citizenry, it rallied them behind a cause that had waned in support over the years; they stood behind the crown's endeavors with full backing. The Kingdom of Quillum was ready for war, and all that was needed was the time to their destination.

/\/\/\

Lyle and his group of friends rode their warhorses proudly down the boulevard. It was a feeling to get high off of. It was a strange feeling knowing that random strangers who didn't know him from Adam were cheering them on like they were their children. It was hard to retain their composure being showered in praise and support, with many of them wanting to smile and wave back. They had to retain their professional look. What they could do, though, was make eye contact and give a simple nod of appreciation.

It wasn't a long trek to the pier, but many were wanting it to last much longer. Lyle couldn't blame them for it. While they were feeding off the cheer and praise, it made them blissfully unaware that this would be the last day of normalcy for them all. The moment they got on the boat would the last time that they would live normal lives – everything after that would be the beginning of a war that none of them fully knew the ramifications of their actions. For some of them, that might have been the last time that they would see each other for one reason or another.

It was Lyle and his friend's turn to board the transport ship. They got lucky and got a steamer rather than a sailboat. The decorated bow bore the ship's name: The Long Road. How ironic. The newer metal-built ships gave much more comfortable than, the older sailing ships to their passengers. Their horses were not so fortunate. They were put on an accompanying retrofitted ship that would be following them closely to them. First on everyone's priority was to get to and claim their room as quickly as possible, the rooms being on a first-come, first-serve basis for all rooms, including the high-class rooms. To say that they broke their professionalism was an understatement.

All of them made a mad dash to the best rooms in the ship, laughing all the way. Others had the same idea of getting the best rooms on the boat, and despite their best efforts, they only got second-class rooms. It was still better than the third-class, although they envied those that were fortunate enough to board to the boat first. No matter though, it was all comfortable, no matter what class they got on.

They doffed their armor once their room doors shut. From there, they all flopped down on their respective beds. For many of them, this would be the first time that they ever had such comforts. It didn't take long before many of them dozed despite not being all that tired. It was fine that they did like they did as all of their supplies would be loaded by the longshoremen into the cargo hold where the ship's crew would distribute to their respective owners. For Lyle and his friends, this would be a time that they would cherish. They would not be getting many moments like this with what is to come.

/\/\/\

On a secluded hilltop in the deepest part of the royal park, a lone tree stood. It was an unremarkable tree – no more than five years old – green needles were abundant on every branch from the base to the crown. There would be no disturbances from any landscapers or logging crews here. Not like they were even aloud that deep into the woods. However, the unremarkable tree was quite deceptive in what made it special. To all but one, this tree was special. This tree contained the soul of a dragon.

It was an interesting experience as Cynder expected it to be like a lapse in conscientiousness. She had experienced every bit of it. For the most part, it was not very painful. It was when they were removing her soul from her body that it was the most painful. The dosage of energy given was more than enough to remove a soul from a Buteo was just barely enough to remove that of a dragon's. The pain that erupted through her felt like her very essence was being ripped apart at the most fundamental level. As she screamed at the top of her lungs, what part of her soul left in her body wasn't enough to command the body to do the same.

Being toted around in the quartz crystal was just an interesting as the whole process was. She wondered how her soul would be able to fit in such a temporary vessel as small as it was, but that there was no concern as she was somehow able to fit in the crystal. It was an interesting feeling. It was like she was the crystal itself, being able to feel the scaled forearm of Bradan with greater detail than she hoped for. Next was being forced into a new vessel: a White Spruce. It was a strange choice of a vessel to be put in, but the logic was sound. It was a park on the royal estate where hunting and logging was prohibited, as well as the deepest part of it. It was a precautionary measure.

It would have taken her time to acclimate to life being a tree had it not been for a slight problem. Rather than the tree becoming the vessel of her soul, Bradan made a mistake in the transfer procedure so minuscule that he in his rush to get the process over. Instead of the tree becoming her new vessel, it became a bounding place. A bounding was different than an inhabiting. If she inhabited the tree, she would have become one. Being bound was like being restricted by the Green Chain necklace, but instead of being physically restricted, her soul was restricted.

Cynder examined herself at the base of the tree. Everything was just as it was before, although she had become a bit translucent. Everything felt the same as it had before, but there was a noticeable lack in the sensation of hunger, thirst, or temperature. There was one problem, though. An ethereal silver cord stretched from her body to the tree. If she went too far away from the tree, the cord was pulled taught, and she could go no further. Interestingly though, she could phase through the ground or float through other trees or the one that she was bound to as long as she did not stray too far.

She tried every way from Sunday to free herself from the tree and silver-colored cord, all of which resulted in failure. It wouldn't matter in the end as her body was still petrified and stored somewhere unknown to her. She curled and sulked underneath the tree and gave a long-winded sigh. It wasn't long before she let loose a string of vile curses towards Bradan and her given situation. And she cursed herself for being so foolish to believe that she could change the fate that an entity who can see into the future brought to light. Not to mention that she had promised Spyro that she would return to him and the realms. Oh shit… Spyro.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was not going to be able to help him with his daily night terrors. What followed was a feeling of self-loathing and disgust. She was the best person to help him, and now she was on the other side of the world with no way to travel more than fifty feet. Sure, there was the chronicler that could try to help him as well as the guardians who have already invested efforts into helping him, but nobody could provide the solace as she could. She let loose more curses before softly sobbing in her own self-pity. That was all before she was interrupted by a curious voice.

"Who are you? Are you okay?"

Cynder looked up to see a transparent dragon. Strangely, it was green all over with only differing shades to differentiate accents, wing membranes, and more. It was a curious sight, indeed. She had a vague remembrance of something like this before, although something about this time was significantly different than before, something alien.

"I could ask the same of you. And no, I'm not okay."

"What's wrong?" The entity said innocent and oblivious to all the swearing that Cynder spat out. To Cynder, it seemed that the entity was feigning its obliviousness. The entity was, unfortunately, in the way of Cynder's growing anger.

"What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong! The Dragon Realms is about to be invaded by the Quillians, and it seems that nobody but me has any knowledge of it. My lover is plagued by something that's causing life-like and long-lasting nightmares with his dark side is begging for him to be set free. And let's not mention for one minute that my original body was turned to stone, and I'm now a tree, a fucking tree!"

"There is nothing wrong with being a tree, is there?" The entity asked again with the same innocent voice that it had before, not even taking notice of the other issues at hand.

"Yes there is. I am a dragon, that's why. I'm not supposed to be a glorified stick in the mud, I am supposed to be a lean, mean, fighting machine; a creature of flesh and blood."

"You're not one anymore." Cynder was unsure how to answer back to that. It could have different interpretations depending on how one decided to look at it. "You're a tree now," the entity said in a chipper, upbeat tone.

"Damn well-deduced detective... Anyways, you still haven't told me who you were," Cynder growled lowly back, rolling her eyes at the entity not far from her. It was not phased by it.

"I'm Astris. A dryad."

Cynder tilted her head sideways in confusion. "And that is?"

"Oh, right. We are nature spirits." The dryad's overly-positive tone was starting to agitate Cynder. What was there to be so positive about?

"Then why do you look like dragons then?"

"We look like whatever we want," Astris said, her form beginning to shift from a dragon to that of a Buteo's. "See?" She shifted back to the dragonic form that she had orignally presented herself as. "I thought that it would have been easier on you to present myself like you."

"Interesting… I'm Cynder, by the way," she said to the dryad, her mood starting to improve by now.

"I don't like that name, it's bad," Astris deadpanned.

'Oh, Ancestors, this is going to get old quickly.' Cynder thought, taken aback by how quickly and serious the aloof entity had demeaned her. "I cannot help that it was the name that I was given."

"I don't like it. It implies bad things. Reducing something to cinders needs a fire to do so. Fire kills. We disappear if our trees are burned."

"Congratulations, you've figured out the significance of my name… as much as I hate it."

"Why would someone name someone after death?"

"It's a long story that I don't want to talk about unless you want to hear the story of my tragic past."

"Maybe next time."

Cynder gave a small sigh of relief. If the dryad-thing already didn't like her because of her name, she would find a way to kill her if it heard the tales of the things that she had done for the first years of her life. "So, are there others?"

"Yes, but not all of them can come out of their trees as us few can. Want me to go get the others?"

"Not right now, but thank you for the offer."

Cynder had dodged a bullet. It was more than enough to take in within a year, and it had only been a day. It would take time to adjust to this new life, being a soul bound to a tree and all. She would also have to put up with an overly-positive nature spirit that would probably be a larger thorn in her rump than the silver cord's restrictive properties. It was the only day one of her new life, and there would be many, many days to follow.

Well, that wraps up that one. For the sake of story balance, there will be a dragon only chapter coming up surprisingly soon. Not much to say other than I encourage anyone who reads this chapter and the story at large to leave a review. Not only does it help me gauge interest in the story, but it also allows you all to give forth suggestions or point out errors that slip through the cracks (Thanks, Blues!). That's all for now. See you all on the next one.

-Abyssal