…Argland Council…
"So they have prisoners for trial, do they?" The Obsidian Dragon Lord said as he finished reading the letter out loud.
"We can't be too surprised, you didn't really expect that all of them would be abiding by the Draconic Accords, did you?" The Platinum Dragon Lord asked.
"I don't think any of us did." The Diamond Dragon Lord said, prompting nods from the rest of the council.
"Well we are technically a neutral nation, so… I suppose we're the only viable option in the region." The Blue Sky Dragon Lord added.
"We'll accept the request then; I suppose we'll owe them one anyway. After all, as the royal family has reclaimed Re-Estize lands, they've been turning loose any of our imprisoned merchants and restoring their goods and wealth to them, with some 'compensation' for good measure. I suggest we agree to hold trial bound prisoners for the duration, and we also offer to fund the cost of their upkeep, a gesture of good will over the problems that have come about." The Obsidian Dragon Lord presented his suggestion, and it was met with a general round of approval.
"Relay the message then, and when the royal family finishes the reoccupation, offer to send an escort to the border they share with the Sorcerous Kingdom and spare them the expense as well, a gesture of good will to them as a renewed trading partner." The Blue Sky Dragon Lord made the additional proposal, and another round of nods saw its acceptance as well. With a little work, they were of one mind that they could position themselves very well diplomatically for the post war era they already saw ahead of themselves.
…Kami Miyako…
Raymond grimaced. He hadn't left his house for weeks it seemed. He let out a tired sigh, he'd been sending his votes to the meetings, but the departure of Zesshi hurt. "No, worse than the departure… worse than her turning on us, what hurt was seeing how badly we hurt her first." He thought to himself and shook his head. The look she had given to him in the council when they had voted on elven slavery, elven violence, and elven personhood, would haunt him until his dying day. A bitter and corrosive bile had settled in his stomach that he didn't think would ever go away.
This was his first time out of his own room in some time. As he swung his legs over the side, a knock came at the door. "Enter." He said. "I'm still alive." He said somewhat sardonically, though he had always looked younger than his age, that had begun to change as a result of ever-increasing stress. The door opened, a young elf boy and half elf girl stood there and had concerned looks on their faces.
"Master, you've been in bed for too long, you mustn't push yourself." They said in unison. Despite being unrelated, the two looked very much alike, save for the few human features on the half elf girl, their personalities however, were all but identical and they spoke like twins. They came into his room and set the trays aside that they had been carrying and approached and offered out their arms to either side to help him up.
He shook the good will gesture off, but gave a kind smile to the pair. "I'm a former Black Scripture, I can still get out of bed on my own, you know." They lowered their arms and stepped back from him, folding their hands in front of themselves.
"As you wish, master." They said together.
"And what did I tell you about that?" He asked with exasperation in his deep, commanding voice.
"Not to call you that." They said in the high pitched voices of children.
"Then why do you insist on disobeying that instruction?" He asked as he stood and stretched out.
"When my parents are free." The elf boy said in the serious voice of a determined child.
"When my mother is." The half elf girl said in a soft, demure voice.
Raymond sighed, "Well, when I find them, I'll free them. I swear, you two are the most stubborn of all the rescues." He said as he approached a tray and took a bite out of a biscuit.
They smiled sweetly at him. "Eos, do you have any news for me this afternoon?"
The half elf girl grinned. "I do, master. A messenger came today from the council, there is to be a meeting on the new vote on the anti-cruelty statutes Berenice proposed."
Raymond nodded, "Good. Boreas, send my vote in support of Berenice along with a note expressing my favorable… recovery, and informing them all that I'll be attending the meeting tonight."
"At once, master." The elf boy grinned.
Their happiness in his house disgusted him. Not because he wanted them miserable, unhappy, or fearful, but because it represented something else, the horror of their previous condition. His butler had been sent out for the first round of 'elf acquisition' and he had been given but two instructions. First, to not skimp. Second, to buy those who were most pitiable.
The story he heard when the two were brought to his home told him all too well that the butler had followed his instructions precisely.
He thought back to their arrival, shortly after he'd taken to bed after Zesshi left… They'd been brought to his house, and all the way to his bedchamber, still dressed in old sacks and still chained from the auction.
They stood there, dirty, terrified, looking at what to them must have seemed a lecherous old man, and could not hide their shaking, the wealth of his house, despite being modest, seemed to them in their impoverished condition to be the wealth of a king.
"Welcome to my home." He said kindly, a tone of voice that was greeted with surprise and suspicion, the half elf girl stepped forward, slightly moving in front of the somewhat younger boy, as if to protect him from uncertainty.
They didn't say anything just then, so he continued.
Raymond snapped his fingers, and the butler held out the keys that came with their purchase, Raymond took one and held it up. "Step forward, and let me get you out of those." He said. Uncertain, the girl stepped forward first, and a moment later the chains fell to the ground. He got a better look at her then, her hair was the color of straw, and matted like it, her face was tan, like she'd spent a lot of time outside, and she was scrawny, very clearly underfed. When the chains landed, she grabbed one wrist and began to rub it with her other hand, the marks were red and raw, they hadn't fit her properly.
He took up the other key being offered to him and handed the last one back. The boy, now seeing it was safe, stepped forward and was unchained as well. That boy was young, hard to say with full blooded elves, but obviously young, and also equally obviously underfed. His ears had been mutilated to be half their former length at a rough estimate, and his face was equally tan, neither of the two had been clean in quite some time.
"Throw their chains and the keys away into the garbage, they won't be needing them anymore." He said, and they looked at him in surprise as the butler quietly obeyed, gathered up chains with an echoing 'clink' and carried them away, leaving the three alone.
"I am Raymond." He said, "What are your names?" He asked.
"Eos, master." She said and snapped her mouth shut.
"Boreas, master." The boy said and shut his mouth just as quickly.
After speaking their names, they sank to their knees. Obviously, they'd been taught their 'station' at some point.
"No need for that." He said with a gentle voice of correction, "I didn't buy you to own you, I bought you to free you." He said softly, only to be met with disbelieving expressions from both of them. "I don't blame you for doubting me. But it is true." He shook his head, "I'm… making up for something, something I did that was very wrong, to someone very dear to me. By helping you, and as many other elves as I can, I can 'begin' to make it up to her."
The deeply wounded, agonized expression on his face gave him some credibility in their eyes. "So, we can go?" Boreas asked.
"Not safely." He said. "I have nowhere I can send you, and you'll never make it to the Elf Kingdom as it is."
"Then we're not free." Eos said.
Raymond lowered his head in shame. "If I had some way to get you out of here, I'd do that. For now, let it be enough that I'll be giving you 'advice' to stay here where it is safe, I will feed you, house you, you may eat your fill, bathe, and I will not give you orders that any free person would not have to follow."
"So, we don't have to work?" Boreas asked in surprise.
"No. You can lay about all day and do nothing if that is what you want, and I won't turn you out. For now, tell one of the maids to draw you a bath and give you suitable clothing, have them show you around the house, and make a space for yourselves to sleep, not too much mind you, I'll need room for the others." He said.
"Others?" Eos asked.
"Yes, I intend to save as many elves and half elves as possible, you two were the first, but I will save as many of your people as I can." He said. No disbelieving expressions met him this time, he was too obviously sincere.
For the next two weeks after that, they did nothing, just as he suggested, but as more and more slaves were brought in and fed, clothed, and sheltered, and Raymond's obvious earnestness about saving elf lives became undeniable.
The pair then insisted that they be allowed to assist in some small way around the manor, taking on small jobs such as bringing him tea and small meals as he sat morosely in his room. Gradually they opened up as questions went back and forth, allowing him to learn something of their histories.
Boreas had been taken from among a group of refugees fleeing Theocracy scriptures and his mother sold on the march back, while Eos had been born in Kami Miyako, her mother had been a captive soldier sold to a Theocracy officer. The officer had used her as a domestic servant and also for his personal recreation. Eos was the eventual result. Within a few years of that, her mother had been sold for trying to escape, while Eos remained as a servant to the man who was also her father, until she too was sold to the same lot as Boreas, where they met and became close friends.
Never had Raymond hated his own country so much as in the moment those stories had concluded.
Now here they were, weeks later, the house was bustling, Berenice and Ginedine had joined his efforts little by little, while Yvon, Maximillian, and Dominic had begun stirring the population into a frenzy of elf hatred to distract the population from the difficulties in the war effort, temples around the unoccupied country were zealously snatching up volunteers for fresh reinforcements and new armies to field, the magic schools had been stripped of every student capable of using effective magic, even if their studies were incomplete, only a skeleton crew of teachers remained to prepare new students who also had no hope of completing their studies before being drawn into the war machine.
That night Raymond dressed, assisted by two adult male elves who, like the young pair that were his first liberated charges, insisted on doing some work around the house. He left with a wave and ample well wishes at his back, and when he arrived at the first meeting around the table the mood seemed dark and combative. No warm welcome greeted him, the air was frosty as he sat, but all that changed in an instant when a messenger arrived from the Draconic Kingdom.
He was admitted quickly enough, and Dominic bade him speak. He took out his missive and began to read formally.
"Queen Draudillon, in her capacity as ruler of the Draconic Kingdom, issues a declaration of war, effective immediately upon the receipt of this message. Your soldiers have disrupted our trade, your allies have captured and tortured a citizen of our very nation, you have used our people's lives as a shield for your own, and you have turned your swords against our nation's savior. For these and other crimes, we bring you war, and in that spirit, we will fight it to its conclusion."
"Have you gone MAD?!" Dominic shot to his feet, pointed at the messenger, and shouted in absolute outrage.
"No, my lord. I am simply relaying the words of my Queen, what answer will you have for her?" He asked, maintaining his sense of calm decorum.
Dominic's answer was what you would expect of an angry scripture member, he took out the weapon he always carried with him, leaped over the table, and ran the man through, his sword piercing the letter clean through the center, then passing through his chest and out the other. The messenger was a young man, no more advanced in age than his early twenties, and the thrust had been so flawless that he hadn't even lost his grip on the letter, he simply looked down at the sword that was now inside his body, with wide eyes that obviously were not grasping just what had happened to him. As pain began to break like the dawning of a morning sun, bright and clear as the day, understanding swept his face. Just as that comprehension began, shouts arose from the other cardinals over Dominic's reaction to the declaration of war. As if their shouts were powerful enough to topple him, the young smartly dressed royal messenger began to lose his ability to stand and he coughed up blood. Some of it spattered on the letter, some on the floor, most of it dripped out of his mouth as he sank to his knees. Dominic lowered the sword with him, allowing the weight of the messenger's body to carry it down, then slide off the edge of the blade and fall backwards onto the floor.
"That is our answer." He said to the dying man, "We'll send your head back, that ought to ensure she gets the point."
If the messenger heard or understood those words, who knew? But Dominic was certain that the rest of the world surely would.
"Dominic, you mad idiot! What have you done?!" Raymond shouted at him.
"Done what you lacked the will to do, defended humanity from those who betray it!" He snarled out.
Berenice and Ginedine were not far beyond Raymond in their own criticisms, "You've turned on an official messenger! A human being who was just delivering the words of his government to us!" Ginedine snapped out.
"Nobody executes a messenger! That is such a long-standing tradition that we don't even need a rule about it!" Berenice added emphatically.
"Exactly, there is no rule. He asked for us to give an answer for his Queen, and now she'll have one." Maximillion said with cold anger in his voice.
Raymond went to the door of the council and called for the guards, two of them arrived in short order. "Place Cardinal Dominic under arrest. He's just killed a messenger of the Draconic Kingdom."
They looked at him in shock.
"A messenger who was sending a declaration of war to us, she is a hostile power, and they are coming to kill you all, I killed him first." Dominic said, and the guards froze, unsure of what to do, shouting took place at the table as the messenger's blood spread out and soaked the stone floor. The guards looked terribly uncertain. "Are you going to obey an elf sympathizer who wants the brothels emptied and the slaves freed and even the faith of our divine gods altered for his whims?!" Dominic asked, his voice afire with zeal as he looked at the pair, and their frozen state melted, and they backed out the door, their disobedience to Raymond an act of obedience to Dominic, and Yvon, seeing this shift, took advantage of the moment.
"Agreed, and frankly I've had enough of the utter impasse and indecisiveness that has resulted from this council in the last few weeks, it hurt the war effort, and I intend to fix that problem right now!" Yvon said, as if the murder Dominic was obviously getting away with was all it took to drive him to take the initiative. "I'm going to call for a special referendum among the temples to grant emergency powers to Cardinal Dominic for the duration of the war."
Raymond, Ginedine, and Berenice went quiet and pale, all at the same moment.
…South of Prart…
The Vines and the Blood Miners did not boast the best equipment, nor did they boast of their elite status. What they did boast of was the greatest possible degree of hatred that anyone could ever have for the forces they were facing, a hatred so great that they were willing to die just to ensure those they were fighting would stub their toes.
After their departure in squad elements they rushed to meet the advancing forces of Remedios Custodio and her Theocracy allies, the march had already been slowed considerably by local small groups of resistance in the north, but this escalated tenfold with the mass arrival of the two organizations.
Some squads became outright suicidal, making reckless charges against lines just to force them to stop. Other squads sniped with arrows to slow units down, or targeted horses to make people pull wagons, some dug pits or dragged trees into the road. During one afternoon so many trees had been laid in the way that the entire army had to stop forty-two times to clear the way.
Vali was one of the Blood Miners who had chosen to be more effective than suicidal. He had been a miner for seven years by the time he was set free, and since his first act of revenge involved a pickaxe, he decided to stick with what worked. As soon as he'd arrived in Prart he commissioned one for himself that would serve as a weapon, at first glance it looked like a broken double headed ax, but at closer inspection, one end had a sharp spike, the other ended in a club like ball of iron that acted like a crushing mace, and at half the length of a regular pick, he wrapped it in steel and created a custom grip to protect his hand, and now he had a very unusual and very effective weapon.
The first encounter was against a group of southern foragers, they were careless, city dwellers at a guess, not familiar with the country, not familiar with the woods, but even with over seven years away from the forest, the deep woods called to the blood of the bulky elf warrior, and he moved as stealthily as an unobstructed breeze, had his squad surround them, then he popped out from hiding and swung his custom pick into the head of an unwary man, sending blood and brain matter into the trees. He didn't pause to watch him fall, but immediately swung it in the opposite direction, embedding the spike into the wide shocked eye of another man and sending him down twitching in his death throes. The rest of the dead men's comrades responded, only for Vali's comrades in hiding to spring out and take down the rest in short order. He then dragged them off and secured the bodies in a cart, rode it several miles away, and hanged the corpses upside down from tree limbs beside the road where the marching forces of Remedios and the Theocracy would see them. These ugly deaths were put on full display, and began to unsettle the constantly frustrated advancing armies.
…Remedios's position…
After the fourth time finding the 'Southern Fruit Trees' as the corpse displays came to be known, Remedios was furious beyond all reason. "Yuri!" She said sharply.
"Yes, Commander?" She asked cautiously.
"You know how these insurgent forces are trying to scare us?" She asked, her eyes were deep set, dark, and a whirlwind of fury as she spoke.
"Yes." She said, "They're doing a good job of it too. Between the disappearances and the constant suicidal raids by humans, elves, and even the occasional undead, people are spooked."
"I think it's time we show them what terror really is." She said.
"Ma'am?" Yuri asked curiously, doing her best to hold back her sadistic lusts.
"Tonight, I want a burning, we've occasionally captured a wounded insurgent, right?" She asked.
"Yes, though they know nothing, even after the harshest questioning." She answered.
"They know how to scream though." Remedios replied. "Set high stakes, douse them with alcohol, and set them on fire, I want these stakes high enough that they can be seen from anywhere, let those out there watching us, know what awaits them. Burn the evil out of this country, if they want terror, we'll give them terror." Remedios said, "That ought to perk up spirits among our own as well."
Yuri could barely hold back her bliss at the order. "Yes… yes… oh yes, Commander." She said with hard and joyful eyes.
That evening they took three prisoners, stripped them of what little they still wore, and dragged them, bloody and limping, to stakes that were twenty feet long. The prisoners were confused and fearful as they were marched along lines of shouting, angry soldiers of both armies, whatever was wanted of them, wasn't good, and they were all quite sure they weren't going to be released. Grimly they assumed their own immediate execution and mentally prepared themselves for ax or sword to end their lives. So it was with even greater confusion that they froze when they saw the three long stakes laying on the ground. Hands of a dozen or more surrounded and grabbed them, twisting their arms around and binding them together, then securing them to stakes with a hammer and chains to hold them by the wrists. Confusion didn't lessen when alcohol was poured over them. It wasn't until the three men saw the torches being brought over that they really understood just what was about to happen, and they began to flail and scream.
"You fucking bitches! You vile scum! You evil incarnate! Neia is going to kill you! You're walking to your deaths, and I will smile at your agony from the afterlife!" They shouted and shrieked various threats and insults as the stakes were elevated vertically so that they hung there by the wrists, in agony from their own body weight pulling them down.
"Well, light the way!" Remedios said with a cackle of half mad laughter, and Yuri tossed first one torch, then another, then another, up to the elves they'd captured. The threats faded, the screams didn't.
"Now we march at night, they'll light the way." Remedios said with a savage cruel smile that was illuminated by the elven torches. The screams went on and on, as the army marched, each time one of the bodies burned enough to fall away, a new prisoner was brought forth to replace the fallen, making the torchlight march to Prart one of the most horrific in the course of the war.
…East of Hoburns…
Skana was a busy woman. It didn't take long to learn that King Astraka had made it to Hoburns, and that was something she found very interesting. The forest beyond the capital was not as large as some places in the Roble Holy Kingdom, but it was nothing to sneeze at either, many nobles maintained hunting preserves there, and as a result there was ample room to hide her small band and send them out on raids. The few minor excursions that had come into the forest, did not leave in one piece, or did not leave at all, but it was equally evident to officials within the city that her organization was very small, and so not a threat, thus delaying action against her. Given time it would come, but Skana wanted to ensure it was way too late by the time it happened.
That was why she now found herself in a village full of sympathizers to her cause which had been just recently liberated, and convincing them all to abandon their newly liberated homes and joining her in the forest. "We've freed you now, but they'll come back, and when they come back, it won't be just to restore order, best case scenario they'll burn down your village out of sheer spite for making them take the effort, then they press you into their army or imprison you as suspected sympathizers for Queen Calca. Worst case scenario, they kill you on the spot and burn down what is left of your village afterwards."
The last village she'd gone to, this hadn't been taken seriously, but when she returned to the spot two days later, the village was obliterated and the handful of survivors she now had with her, testified that her liberation had become the equivalent of a death sentence to any village.
The village headman sighed heavily, "I share your faith in the Sorcerer King, but… I'm an old man, I'm not fit for fighting anymore."
"Are you able to look after children?" Skana asked. "Are you able to die?" She probed further.
"I did the first thing for a lotta years." He said stroking his wizened beard as he leaned on his cane, "But the second thing, well mah daddy always said I was too damn dense to do a proper job of it, but I reckon I'll get mighty good at it one day." His eyes twinkled with laughter despite his worry, leaving Skana to laugh openly at the black humor of the man.
"Old man, I think you've been hiding a silver tongue in that head of yours. Back when that bald head had hair on it, I'll bet you were quite the charmer." Skana said and clapped him on the shoulder.
"You betcha." He said with a wink as he wobbled without complaining at the force of her slap of good humor to his body.
"Why do you ask a question like that anyway?" He asked.
"If you'll give your consent, while you live, you can help tend the children of the young who come with you, then when you die, we'll raise you as a skeleton… we have some wands left for that, and your corpse can fight one more time for your people. Every man and woman, living and dead, can make a difference in ensuring that the war ends, and the future is made the brighter for it. Now, will you and all your people come with us?" She asked, and as she spoke, she looked around, the village was nothing much, less than a hundred huts and less than three hundred people, but she understood, to them it was not just home, it was the whole damn world, everything they knew and worked for, the bodies of their loved ones were buried a stone's throw from where Skana and the headman now stood at the center of the place. He looked shaken at the very notion of leaving, the younger might, but that would just condemn the older to die alone.
One of Skana's escorts stepped forward. "D'you remember me, sir?" The young woman asked softly. "Do I look familiar to you?" She asked.
He looked at the woman long and hard, she had shoulder length straight red hair and green eyes, she had a few scars showing in places that her Black Justice armor didn't cover, and his eyes didn't work like they used to, but after a minute of concentration, the headman answered. "Mela? You're Mela's daughter, aren'cha?" He asked, curiously.
She smiled, "Yes, Mela was my mother, and I took her name. She married a Drorin from the village only thirty miles from here."
The headman grinned broadly, "Aye, they met at the festival almost twenty-two years ago, heh. I accidentally tripped over'em when I got drunk and they were busy doin naughty stuff under a pile of hay thinkin they were oh so clever about where they snuck off to." He laughed and added salaciously, "To this day I think I kicked him in the bum just as he was trying to pull out, guess you're the result."
Mela blushed furiously and Skana did her damnedest not to snort in the difficult situation in which she found herself, but Mela pushed on.
"Well, she's dead now and so is my dad. That entire village was burned down after Skana liberated it, we thought, initially, worst case scenario, they'd try to recapture the place, but a few days after, we spotted fire and went to check it out, we got there just in time to see a small squad of Astrakan loyalists killing survivors. We finished them off of course, but they've changed the rules, things are getting worse, a lot worse, I'd have been among the dead too if I hadn't left to join the fight for Queen Calca earlier. If they'll do that to my home, they'll do it to yours, and there is no getting around the fact that the soldiers they stationed here are dead, they will come for you even if you don't resist." Mela said with emphatic seriousness, and the headman went very quiet.
"So, there is no choice." His head sagged, "I'll inform the village, we need to pack up everything we can, and if I die in those woods, I want two promises from you." He said to Skana.
"Name them." "First, you can use my body after death to make a skeletal warrior or whatever it is you want to fight the ones who killed Mela. But when you do, I want my bones marked so they can be identified if I'm smashed, bring whatever you can back here and bury them at my home, and second, if I'm not smashed, if my undead form survives, send it back to this village to look after it forever."
"Agreed." Skana said and stuck out her hand, and the headman took it and they shook firmly. With that, the band with her began to move around the village to gather what supplies they could. Moving this many people who weren't used to moving more than a hundred yards from their birthplace more than a handful of times in their entire lives wasn't going to be easy, especially with the elderly and the infants and so on in tow, but it could be done, it would be done, and Skana silently vowed that atrocity would not visit these people.
AN: I know, it has been a week. Business of living and all that. Might have been even more delayed, but a reader made getting a chapter their birthday wish, and how can I say no to that? Anyway, lots more to go, about 49 chapters, give or take. I can guarantee another chapter by Friday if EITHER:
A. The donation goal of $15 to bdgiving dot org is reached by then (Note that this is a charity organization, I don't take a penny)
OR...
B. If I add one person to my P atreon dot com slash GodRising (This goes to pay for the cost of stuff to turn this story into a good quality audio version of itself. I ALSO don't make any money off this, any overage will ALSO be donated to charity)