Hikaru: Thank for your wonderful reviews, Maurice! They're always so full of insight on how you viewed the writing and its contents--no other reviewer has ever gone into that much detail for me in a review--and not only is it detailed, but also useful. So thank you very much!
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Izoold had fallen easily into Tethe'alla's hands--one would think that, faced with a clearly superior enemy, they'd give in, but since it was their homeland they were guarding, the Sylvarantian vanguard here put up more of a fight then he thought them capable of. They even had to have one of their battleships deploy a ground force, for Martel's sake.
But no matter. In the end, the Tethe'allans had minimal losses and now had a firm foothold on Slyvarantian land. From here, they could push west into the desert and take over Triet, and once power had been established there, go up north to meet the Latheon armies and take the northern peninsulas. Once their strength had been sufficiently massed on this continent, Tethe'alla could finally march north from Izoold to the grand prize: Luin, the city of water and Sylvarant's capitol.
Granted, there was still a considerable armed force stationed in Asgard and then in Palmacosta, but once the capitol fell, the others would follow. And even if they didn't, Tethe'alla could easily crush them, especially with the additional power it would have from the conquered territories of Sylvarant.
Then, with the whole of the world under King Hugh's rule, he could begin to hunt for the last prize, but by no means the least: the Eternal Sword. The entire world would prosper indefinitely if the king could wield that sword!
But there was no harm in starting early, and that was just what Frio planned to do. He stood at the railing of the Tethe'allan flagship, looking over the partially destroyed city of Izoold and the decimated port, Sylvarantian shipwrecks littered all over the bay. Felled members of Sylvarant's vanguard floated in the waves, pools of blood mingling with the salt water. Farther out to sea, monsters were already enjoying the leftovers of the battle.
Frio frowned. This was the price to pay for resisting Tethe'alla and by extension King Hugh. This was the price of the king's displeasure.
"My lord Kestrel."
Frio turned to face the man addressing him, who turned out to be none other than the admiral of this fleet. Frio gave a small smile.
"Admiral, sir, surely there's no need to be so formal."
The admiral, much older than Frio and certainly with more experience in battles than he had, seemed uneasy at the very least.
"But, my lord, you are our king's representative, his eyes and ears on the battlefield. To address one such as you casually is a bit ..."
Frio gave a half shrug.
"Be that as it may, I was only raised in our king's court. I am not of royal blood or even noble status, as far as I know, and our king has yet to tell me of my parentage, other than ... my mother was a half-elf."
If the previous silence was awkward, it was nothing compared this unholy silence now. Half-elves were at the bottom of Tethe'alla's caste system, and although for a time, under the previous king's reign, there were movements against half-elf discrimination of all kinds, under King Hugh all those movements were disbanded and its members imprisoned for causing public unrest.
Indeed these movements did cause public unrest in Tethe'alla--for hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of years half-elves had been at the bottom of the caste system and the treatment of half-elves that went with it had been the norm for generations.
The movements pro-half-elves for their rights as citizens of Tethe'alla had brought in too much change too quickly. Add in the attempted abolishment of the Church of Martel ...
Indeed the last twenty or so years of Tethe'alla had been tremulous ones. The previous king had been poisoned in an attempted assassination by the Pope, who then had been displaced and relieved of his position, and the king's health had been in a questionable state. The people of Tethe'alla and members of the House of Lords had questioned whether or not the king was still in a right mind to rule, but never acted on it.
That changed around a year or so later, when the king had attempted, at the Chosen's say-so, to abolish the Church of Martel. The Chosen, along with his companions, had been spreading some cock-and-bull story about Cruxis being false and the Goddess Martel being only a symbolic entity, but there was some truth in it--the worlds of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla had been united into one by the power of Origin and the Eternal Sword.
Needless to say, the people of not only Tethe'alla, but Sylvarant had been growing uneasy and uncertain, everything they'd been raised to believe in thrown into the ugly shadow of doubt.
That was when the House of Lords devised a solution--the king was getting senile in his old age and ill health, and Hilda must become Queen of Tethe'alla--but they doubted she had much of a head for ruling. The answer was obvious, someone must marry into the royal family, someone capable and willing to pull this country back together. It was such a mess that no one wanted to, until a young Lord Hugh stepped up to the plate. He was only the son of a viscount of the Gaoracchia lands, but he was young and handsome--he could woo the princess-to-be-queen.
Soon Lord Hugh had succeeded in marrying Queen Hilda and effectively became King of Tethe'alla. He brought stability back into people's lives by restoring the old caste system as well as the Church of Martel.
As part of the movement, Frio had been told his half-elf mother was deemed unfit, and King Hugh himself took him in to be raised in his court, as his father had been imprisoned. Frio was grateful to the king--he may be part half-elf, but his father had been human, so he was human through and through, with a sprinkling of elfish blood. That sprinkling had allowed him to be able to use magic to some degree, and that had allowed him to learn the art of summoning.
Frio was now doing his best to serve his king and adoptive father of a kind--he'd already made pacts with some of the Tethe'allan Spirits, and now he would begin his Sylvarantian campaign.
"My lord," the admiral continued, ignoring Frio's previous statement, "how shall we handle the establishment of Tethe'alla in Izoold?"
Frio turned to look to the city again. So many people, men, women, and even children had died in the defense of the city, only a small amount of its original population remained. It would be no major task to keep them in line.
"Rebuild whatever buildings, especially civilian buildings, have been destroyed or partially destroyed in the battle. Tend any wounded, and allow them to keep their houses and possessions under the conditions of yielding to Tethe'allan rule and reserving the use of their port for Tethe'alla after we rebuild it."
The admiral nodded and bowed slightly before hurrying off to carry out the orders. Frio may not be of royal or noble blood, but here he was the king's representative and by proxy carried the king's authority.
As for Izoold ... they would see resistance would be futile, and might even think better of Tethe'alla for rebuilding their town and taking care of its people when the Tethe'allans could have more easily wiped out the remaining population. Yes, this was the Tethe'allan way to conquer--take care of what she conquered, gain the people's trust, and above all, make being part of Tethe'alla look enticing. That way, there would be less hassle in the long run for the conquering of Sylvarant.
Frio drummed his fingers rhythmically on the railing of the battleship.
The orders were given, now he had time to think about where he would move for his own mission. He could go west with the rest of the army in the desert to make a pact with Efreet, or go north to seek out Luna, Aska, or Sylph. Or he could even track down that pair of teenagers ... what were their names? Alain and Leneth. Alain could use angel's sight, a technique Frio had heard tell of but never saw it worked with his own eyes. The angel's sight allowed Frio to get a good taste of Alain's mana signature trail.
What's more, they were the pair described to be heading from the Iselian region, carrying a fragment of the Eternal Sword with them. Frio had sent a part of the Draconian Air Force after them--but since Izoold was such a small, almost inconsequential town minus the port, the squadron they'd ended up getting for this battle wasn't the most elite of the Draconian Air Force. Only one of them had returned, and to report that most of the squadron was wiped out! Incompetent fools! How tough could two teenagers be to apprehend?
There was still one rider following them, but he had yet to return, either. Nonetheless, judging from the mana signature trail, Frio could guess at their destination--Luin, the capitol of Sylvarant, to keep their fragment of the Eternal Sword safe in the heart of Sylvarant and warn of the oncoming Tethe'allan invasion.
But Alain seemed to be no fool, and there was no way that he would lead the dragon rider to Sylvarantian heartland. The question was, where would they go? Where would they run?
Frio already had a few Spirits under his belt, and some of them were very powerful--Volt and Gnome, for example.
There could be no harm in going after the grandest prize early.