The additional council meeting in Chalassy's great hall unfolded beneath towering stained-glass windows depicting the kingdom's storied history. General Anu, the only battle-active general of Chalassy, stood before the circular council table, his figure casting a long shadow across the polished stone floor. The logo on his shoulder—a sun overlaid with the wings of a soaring eagle—reflected the fading light, marking him as a symbol of strength and a harbinger of war.
This time, the five generals, exposed faces dressed in ceremonial uniforms denoting their rank, sat around the table, their expressions ranging from skepticism to outright distrust. Their words carried the weight of years spent in the halls of strategy, not on the bloodied fields of war.
General Hadar, a man with deep-set eyes and a perpetual frown, slammed his fist on the table. "Peace talks with Osta? Fool's errand! They're laying a trap. They want us complacent while they sharpen their knives," he growled, glaring at Anu with an intensity that bordered on accusation.
Anu met Hadar's gaze head-on, his own dark green eyes unwavering. "We cannot dismiss the possibility of peace simply because it's uncomfortable," he countered, his voice calm but firm. "We've been at war for generations. If there's even a small chance to change that—"
"A 'chance'?" General Tarek interrupted his voice like gravel grinding beneath the weight of a heavy boot. "A chance to bury more of our soldiers, you mean? You're young, Anu, and young men often mistake hope for reality."
The remark was meant to belittle him, but Anu felt no embarrassment. Instead, his resolve hardened. He wasn't here to prove himself; he was here to protect the lives of his people. He glanced briefly at Zaya, standing at his side as his second-in-command, her stance rigid but her expression searching for reassurance.
"If we refuse to listen, if we choose not to explore every path, we're no better than those we fight against," Anu stated, his voice carrying an edge of warning. "And I believe my parents taught me better."
The council room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Anu's late parents were heroes in Chalassy's military lore. His father had been a tactical genius, and his mother, a daring captain who had died on a critical mission, was why many of these men still sat at this table.
After a long moment, General Hadar sighed. "Fine, Anu," he conceded, his voice laced with resignation. "But if this backfires, the blood is on your hands."
That evening, Anu walked through the courtyard towards the training grounds, his mind heavy with the council's words. He found his squad gathered there, engaged in their nightly drills. It was a scene of discipline and camaraderie that grounded him when doubts threatened to overwhelm his resolve.
Merna was among them, practicing her dual-dagger techniques with a precision that bordered on artistry. Her movements were fluid, a dance that conveyed both lethal intent and a sense of control. Anu watched her momentarily, his eyes lingering on how she moved—so agile yet focused.
When she noticed him, she stopped mid-motion, sheathing her daggers in a single swift movement. "General," she greeted, her tone formal, but her eyes softened with familiarity.
"You don't have to call me that when we're off duty," Anu replied, offering a faint smile. It was a small gesture, but it was all he could manage with everything on his mind.
Merna smiled back, lowering her voice as she approached him. "I didn't expect you to be so formal tonight, either."
They both chuckled softly, the tension between them easing for a moment. Anu shifted his weight, his gaze drifting to the moonlit horizon. "The council isn't convinced about the peace talks," he admitted, almost to himself.
Merna's expression turned thoughtful. "And you?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Anu sighed, letting his shoulders relax. "I want to believe there's a chance. But if Osta deceives us…" He trailed off, the weight of his words lingering in the night air.
Merna took a step closer, her presence a quiet comfort. "You're doing what you believe is right, Anu," she said, her voice steady. "We all believe in you. I believe in you."
Something in her tone—something gentle but unyielding—calmed the storm brewing inside him. Anu turned to look at her, searching her eyes for any trace of doubt or fear, but found only a steadfast resolve that mirrored his own.
"Thank you," he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice holding more weight than the words alone could convey.
Merna smiled again, and this time, Anu felt a warmth spread through his chest—a warmth he hadn't realized he was missing.