1214-02-23
The camp was surprisingly large—about the size of a small town. Hundreds of tents stretched across the plain, each nearly identical save for slight differences in size or shape. I was shocked by how organized it was. The soldiers had ensured there were enough tents to accommodate all of us. About 45% of the tents were marked with a red insignia to distinguish them as civilian quarters, while the rest were for the soldiers.
The soldiers not assigned to guard the encampment worked tirelessly. Some patrolled the outskirts, keeping watch for any sign of the emperor's forces, while others stayed within, assisting with cooking, repairs, or tending to the injured. Their movements were seamless, their discipline evident.
Adrian's tent, though unassuming, bore a distinct red marking on its side with his name—Adrian Kundra—etched in bold lettering. It was positioned at the far end of the encampment, away from the civilians, likely for his protection. Yet, despite its placement, Adrian was anything but distant. He was often seen walking through the camp, speaking to civilians as though they were his equals, his demeanor disarming.
Adrian Kundra had an infamous reputation—the so-called foolish prince of Ahk. Yet here, in the heart of the encampment, he seemed entirely different. There was a calm kindness in the way he carried himself, an aura that felt almost otherworldly. It was as though he belonged to a different world, one untouched by the weight of war.
I walked through the encampment, taking note of its layout. Civilians like us weren't allowed into the soldiers' half of the camp, and the soldiers rarely crossed into ours unless they were on duty, guarding the perimeter or surrounding the encampment.
Despite the separation, there was no tension between us. The soldiers gave us freedom and protection without treating us as outsiders. Perhaps it was because Ahk was known for its inclusivity—one of the few nations where nearly anyone could become a citizen, regardless of their origins.
At the heart of the camp was a small gate, guarded on either side by two soldiers, marking the boundary between the civilians and the military quarters. This central area housed essential facilities: food tents, makeshift hospitals, and communal spaces. Both civilians and soldiers passed through here, their paths crossing in quiet cooperation.
Most civilians stayed in their tents, parents holding their children close, their fear palpable. Whispers circulated of what might happen—how the enemy could use us as leverage to force the emperor out of the city.
I walked into the center of the encampment. Passing groups of civilians and soldiers talking to one another. The mixture of laughter and hushed conversations was oddly comforting, reminding me that even here, life continued. I heard snippets of their words—someone talking about home, another about the food—but I didn't focus on any of it. I smiled at a soldier who gave me a small nod as I passed.
The food tent was busy. Steam rose from large pots as workers ladled meals into bowls, the smell of stew filling the air. I spotted Adrian sitting at one of the long tables, a simple meal in front of him. His plate looked just like everyone else's—coarse bread and stew. Nothing more, nothing less. It struck me as strange, though. For someone like him, I expected more, but maybe I was wrong.
I saw him earlier, walking the camp like everyone else. Twelve hours he worked, making rounds, checking on people, watching the perimeter. Then twelve hours of rest and eating, just like the soldiers. He didn't act like he was above anyone else, and that... was unusual.
When he noticed me, he smiled, just a small, almost shy gesture. I hesitated for a second before sitting next to him. We didn't speak right away. The quiet between us wasn't uncomfortable—just the clinking of bowls and murmured conversations around us.
After a while, Adrian pointed to the pin on my cloak. " Where'd you get the pin?"
I touched the small piece of metal, worn smooth by time. "My mom gave it to me."
He looked at me for a moment. "Is that true?"
I didn't respond, my eyes back on my food. The silence returned, but it wasn't awkward.
As I ate, my thoughts drifted, and the weight of the truth settled heavily in my chest. He's going to die here. I could feel it. I'd heard the whispers. Some of the women and children saw Adrian as more than a protector—they saw him as a way out. A way to buy their freedom with the riches they could earn.
"What's your name?" he asked after a while, his voice soft and careful.
"Liliko," I answered, not looking up from my meal.
He nodded, as if testing the name out. "Liliko."
Just then, a number was called from the front of the tent, and I froze. It was mine.
I put my bowl down and stood up, brushing crumbs off my lap. Adrian looked up at me. "Take care, Liliko."
I didn't say anything back. I just nodded before heading toward the front of the tent.
I make my way to the medical tent, the soft hum of conversation from soldiers and civilians mixing with the sounds of bustling activity. Inside, a tall man with dark hair and sharp eyes stands over a table, checking through papers. He looks up as I approach, offering a slight nod before stepping aside to allow me space.
"You must be Liliko," he says in a calm, measured tone. "I'm Lucius, the camp's doctor. Please, sit down."
I sit on the wooden stool, and he gestures for me to lift my arm. As he begins explaining the mandatory examination, he talks with a surprising gentleness. "Do you have a husband, someone who's a soldier here?" he asks, his hands moving with practiced efficiency.
I shake my head, my gaze flicking down to my calloused hands as he gently presses my wrist.
"No husband," I say quietly. "Just me."
His fingers linger for a moment, eyes narrowing as if he's making some internal calculation. "Your hands are rough for someone who hasn't seen combat. What do you do?" He glances at my palms with curiosity, the tips of his fingers brushing across them.
"I'm a cook."
His eyebrow twitches, but he doesn't respond immediately, continuing with his examination. As he presses down on my shoulder.
"That's good; we could always use more cooks."
"I tried joining yesterday, but they said I'd poison the food."
He gives an upset look. "I'll give you a recommendation. That way, you can help if you want."
"Thank you, Lucius."
I ask, "What about you? Do you have a family? A wife, children?"
Lucius sighs, his eyes momentarily darkening. "I'm scared I won't make it back. The emperor could attack us at any moment. There's little time for family when you're stuck in this kind of war."
I offer him a small smile in return. "The emperor won't attack while we're here."
He looks at me, his expression weary, but then his lips curve upward just slightly. " Hearing you say that makes me feel a little better."
He looks at me for a moment, then nods as if the words have given him a quiet comfort. The tension in his shoulders seems to relax. He finishes the examination and smiles gently.
"You look fine. No sign of illness or injury."
I nod, standing and brushing the dust from my clothes. "Thank you."
Leaving the tent, I return to my own, finding Itsu waiting inside. She looks up as I step in.
"So, what's the plan?" she asks, a sly grin on her face.
I pause, glancing over my shoulder as if checking for eavesdroppers. "The tent doesn't seem as well-protected as they think. But I need to see it at night."
She nods, her eyes narrowing with excitement. "Alright. We'll make it work."
"I'm telling you, Liliko, Kima will run out of food in three months," Itsu says, her voice low but urgent as she fiddles with the straps of her dagger.
"I know. But rushing it won't help us. We've got to play this smart. Adrian's still the key to everything."
I glance at the entrance of the tent, making sure no one is listening. "If we can get in their good graces—get them to trust us—then we strike when he least expects it."
I see the hesitation in Itsu's eyes, the doubt I've seen in her before. "And you really think we can do that? Get close to them, make them think we're on their side? I'm not so sure."
I shrug, trying to sound more confident than I feel. "We have to. Their the weak link."
"We'll wait for the right moment—find out who's closest to him, who he trusts. Then, when the time is right, we'll make our move." Itsu smiled.
I lean back, my fingers tracing the edge of the map I made. If Adrian's life is the price of our freedom, then it's a price we're willing to pay.