1214-01-15
Horseback
Atop my black-and-brown steed, we set off, the rhythm of hooves clapping softly against the cobblestone streets of Pallas. Citizens threw glitter into the air, their cheers resonating like a melody of hope and farewell. Banners bearing Ahk's emblem hung proudly from buildings, fluttering in the breeze.
It felt like a celebration of our return, yet we were leaving. Leaving to protect this city. Leaving to safeguard this country—my home.
Children and adults alike pushed past the guards, trying to catch a glimpse of our company.
My father wasn't there to see me off. We approached the towering gates of Pallas. I noticed a familiar face in the crowd.
Children and adults alike pushed past the guards, trying to catch a glimpse of our company.
"Whoa," I whispered, tugging on the reins.
My horse slowed to a stop, and Liora emerged. Her blonde hair flowed in the wind, her blue eyes caught the sunlight like gemstones.
"Adrian," she called, her voice cracking. "You have to make it back Promise me. Promise me you'll come back safe."
I stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I promise, Liora. No matter what, I'll come back to you."
She nodded.
"Your Majesty," Voss called sharply. "We must move."
I turned back to Liora one last time. "I'll see you again."
I followed Voss as the gates creaked open, revealing the sprawling grasslands beyond. Hector had departed earlier that morning, bound for Ichi. Now it was our turn—to march for Kima.
The grasslands of Ahk stretched before us, a sea of green under the pale sky. The rhythmic sound of marching soldiers dulled my thoughts, smothering my fears. The terrain was easy—gentle hills and endless plains—but the weight of our mission made every step feel heavier.
Beside me, Voss strode confidently, his armor catching glints of sunlight. He glanced over, a smirk playing on his lips.
"You've been quiet, Adrian," he said. "Thinking about someone?"
I shot him a sideways look. "And if I am?"
"Oh, I'm just imagining the drama." He chuckled. "All that teary-eyed farewell nonsense."
"She's not nonsense," I replied sharply. "I'll miss her."
Voss raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Miss her? That's cute. My wife cries every time I leave, too. Says it gets easier, but it never does."
"Your wife must be a saint to put up with you," I quipped, cracking a faint smile.
"Saint, devil—depends on the day," Voss said with a laugh. "But she gets it. War's no place for soft hearts, Adrian. You'll learn that soon enough."
"Maybe. But I don't want to lose what makes me human."
Voss shrugged. "Fair enough. Just don't get yourself killed trying to prove it."
The conversation faded as the rolling plains swallowed us whole. I thought of my father then, wondering how he had managed it—marching with no fear, no doubt. I hoped I could do the same.
We walked. Cities faded behind us, their silhouettes swallowed by the horizon. Birds chirped in the trees, oblivious to the weight of our journey. All day, we marched—for hours on end.
I felt for the troops who had no horses, trudging across the plains with aching legs and weary hearts. Most of them had families, just like me, yet here they were, leaving their homes to protect this land.
Viue was 800 kilometers away. That distance was why we had left when we did, and it loomed over us like a shadow.
We stopped after covering 40 kilometers, the first leg of a journey that would span 20 days. It was the plan: march 40 kilometers each day, rest, repeat. This grueling routine was necessary if we were to reach Viue in time.
The soldiers set up their tents. Communal eating tents were erected. Troops rushed to eat.
We had brought plenty of provisions: hardtack, salted pork, dried meat, grain, and vinegar for the water. Tonight's meal was simple—pottage and some dried jerky.
The soldiers ate in small groups, sharing stories and speculating about the battles to come.
"I heard the Emperor of War is terrifying," one soldier said, his voice low.
"Do you really believe the rumors?" another replied.
"Someone told me he's so ugly, he hides his face!" The group burst into laughter, their nervous energy spilling over into humor.
As I chewed on a piece of jerky, my mind wandered to the siege at Kima. If what Shino had said was true, this campaign would end in a brutal standoff. Would we have enough supplies to last? Would the food we carried be enough—or would it go to waste in defeat?
A young man approached me. His short brown hair was messy from the march.
"Commander Adrian," he said, offering a small salute. "Lucius, sir. I'm—well, I was a doctor ...."
I smiled. "A doctor? I'm glad to have you, Lucius. We'll need someone like you before this is over."
"I'm honored, sir, but…"
"Everyone's nervous. Even I am. But I'll make sure you survive this, Lucius."
He looked up at me, a small smile forming on his lips. "Thank you, Commander. I need to survive… for more than myself."
I tilted my head, curious. "You have a family?"
Lucius hesitated, then nodded. "A wife and a son. He's two years old. Too young to remember me if…"
"You'll see them again," I said firmly, cutting him off before he could finish.
Lucius's smile grew. "Thank you, sir. That means more than you know."
I left the tent. The cool night air brushed against my face. Above, the sky stretched endlessly.
The sight reminded me of Pallas—the white palace shining under a similar sky. And of Liora, her tears glistening as I made my promise.
But no.
I shook the thought away, clenching my jaw. To be the best, I needed to forget. To be stronger, I couldn't afford distractions.
The familiar sound of armored footsteps approached from behind, muffled slightly by the grass.
"I'll bring you back to her ... safe, Your Majesty," he said.
I turned slightly, meeting his gaze. "Voss… you've always respected me, even when I didn't deserve it. Please, call me Adrian."
He hesitated, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Alright, Adrian.."
"The truth is," he continued, "they should believe they'll die. That's the mentality you need them to have. If they're ready to give everything, they'll fight harder. It's not about going home. It's about surviving the moment."
The sounds of the camp surrounded us—the laughter of soldiers echoing faintly through the thin leather of the tents, the occasional clink of sharpening steel. These men weren't just soldiers. They were my brothers, my protectors.
And I, in turn, would protect them.
"No." My voice rose, surprising even myself. "No, Voss. We will make it back."
Voss raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable, then slowly sat down beside me, his gaze following mine to the stars above.
"Adrian," he said after a moment, "I'll do anything I can to make sure you keep that promise."
The quiet stretched between us, the vastness of the sky above grounding the gravity of our mission.
"Voss," I said, my voice softer now, "what was my father like?"
He tilted his head, considering the question. "Your father… he was a warrior king. A man of few words but decisive action. He believed battles were like chess."
I nodded slowly. " … we couldn't be more different."
"And that's not a bad thing," Voss said. "Sometimes, kings need to rewrite the rules of the game."
We sat in silence.