Chapter 10: The Haunted Commander
Alaric stood at the head of his regiment, his gaze sweeping the broad terrain before him. The sun hung low in the sky, spreading deep shadows over the battlefield. The troops under his charge, seasoned soldiers who had seen innumerable conflicts, looked to him for guidance, for leadership. They trusted him without doubt, for he had won that faith with innumerable wins, each one more decisive than the last. To them, Alaric was more than a leader—he was a legend.
But despite the plaudits and the admiration, Alaric felt hollow. The cheers of the men as they celebrated another win reverberated in his ears, but they didn't fill the vacuum inside him. Each battle fought, each opponent beaten, brought him no closer to the one thing that actually mattered: regaining the life that had been stolen from him.
The recollection of his exile, the dishonor that had stripped him of his name and title, was never far from his thoughts. Even today, as a respected commander in an army that valued his intellect, Alaric could not escape the shadow of his past. The betrayal that had wrecked his life, the loss of all he had previously held dear—it tormented him like a ghost, constantly lurking just beyond his thoughts.
As the soldiers set up camp for the night, Alaric went among them, offering words of encouragement, though his heart wasn't in it. The men admired him, revered him even, but they didn't know the complete tale. They didn't realize that beneath the armor and the title of commander, Alaric was still a man motivated by the urge for vengeance. The respect they gave him was predicated on his prowess in battle, but it was the betrayal that fuelled him, driving him forward like a relentless force.
General Thorne had promoted Alaric fast through the ranks. Thorne had seen something in him from the start—an uncompromising drive, a tactical brilliance that few possessed. Alaric had proven himself time and again, each combat more significant than the last. He had saved the army from disaster more times than anybody could count, and now he stood at the top, a leader whose name was spoken with admiration throughout the ranks.
But the successes seemed hollow.
As the firelight flickered across the camp, Alaric found himself pulled to the tranquility of the neighboring woods. He needed to escape, if only for a while, from the weight of the expectations that surrounding him. The cheers of the guys, the plaudits of his superiors—it all felt distant, removed from the person he genuinely was.
He moved farther into the woodland, the chilly night air caressing across his skin. Here, away from the hubbub of the camp, the memories came flooding back. He could still picture the courtroom, the faces of those who had turned against him. His father, his fiancée, the nobles who had once admired him—they had all abandoned him when he needed them most. And at the core of it all was Edwin, his cousin, the one who had planned his demise.
The wrath that burned inside Alaric was never far from the surface. It had been there ever since that day, propelling him, driving him to ascend through the ranks. But no matter how high he climbed, no matter how many victories he achieved, it was never enough. The betrayal gnawed at him, a continual reminder of the life that had been stolen from him.
He clinched his fists, the wrath rising up inside him. The men under his leadership felt they followed a commander of unmatched brilliance, but what they followed was a man driven by the demons of his past. Alaric had gained his reputation on the battlefield, but every triumph only increased the wound of his exile. The more he succeeded, the more he understood how far he was from restoring his actual mission.
The night was calm, the only sound the rustle of leaves in the wind. Alaric glanced up at the moon, his mind whirling. He had fought for months, years even, climbing his way to the top of the military ranks. But what did it matter if the Valemont name was still in the hands of a traitor? Edwin sat luxuriously in the estate that rightfully belonged to Alaric, relishing in the authority he had stolen. And Alaric, despite all his accomplishments, was still an exile in the eyes of the realm.
He took a long breath, attempting to stabilize himself. This wasn't the time to lose concentration. General Thorne had placed considerable trust in him, and the men depended on his guidance. But the gnawing feeling of unfinished business, of unresolved betrayal, made every victory feel like ash in his lips.
A sound in the trees behind him disrupted his thoughts. Alaric pivoted abruptly, his reflexes honed from years of battle. Out of the shadows walked General Thorne himself, his face marked with a knowing look.
"I thought I might find you out here," Thorne whispered gently, going up to stand alongside Alaric.
Alaric offered a tiny nod, though he said nothing. Thorne had become something of a mentor to him, but even he didn't comprehend the entire magnitude of the fire that blazed inside Alaric.
"You've done well," Thorne said, his voice cool. "The men look up to you. They follow you because they believe in you."
"I know," Alaric answered, his voice low.
Thorne gazed at him, his eyes piercing. "But belief can only take you so far. What motivates you, Alaric? What keeps you going after every battle? There's something more than just strategy and leadership. I can see it."
Alaric looked aside, the weight of Thorne's words falling upon him. He had climbed through the ranks, won the respect of the troops, yet he knew Thorne was right. There was something more pushing him, something darker.
"Justice," Alaric muttered at last, his voice calm but resolute. "I fight for justice. For what was taken from me."
Thorne watched him for a long period, then nodded. "Then make sure you see it through. Whatever it is you're after—don't let it ruin you before you get there."
Alaric didn't react, but he knew Thorne was correct. The weight of his past threatened to consume him, but he couldn't let it. Not yet. There was still too much more to do. And when the time came, when he finally met Edwin, Alaric would make sure the betrayal was punished in full.