Ash 10, 122 Steel
“And why exactly shouldn’t we finish the job?” The words were spoken by an angry looking Avialae with the wings of a sparrow. He was dressed in the armor of a Sky Guard. Various scars on the left side of his face told Aoren enough to know that this was not a new recruit but rather a seasoned veteran. Assembled before him were the various officers of the Sky Guard, the Silent Wings, and the Silver Hand, the guards of House Novalys. Among them were also representatives from the Order of the Dawnmartyr.
“Because we are not like them.” Aoren spoke clearly and without hesitation. This argument had been made more than once ever since his return to Kalzasi. “Zaichaer is broken. The regime that ruled over it has fallen. The threat it posed to us is non-existent.”
He had not personally seen the devastation that had fallen upon the City of Brass but he had heard the stories and he believed them. Hell, he believed most anything was possible after what he had been put through.
“Besides, our anger is better served being put toward more pressing threats.” He looked over the map that was sprawled across the table in front of them all. Reaching out he tapped several places. “These townships are beset with creatures that have taken advantage of the strife between the cities of the Northlands. Our people need to be protected. The coming winter is going to put a strain on the city’s reserve of supplies. Which means that we will have to embark upon expeditions into the Otherwilds in order to bolster our resources. The creatures there can be outlets for your frustrations.”
“We all want vengeance--” Another officer began speaking but Aoren was quick to cut him off.
“Vengeance? No. I want Justice.” He fixed the man with a gaze that burned softly. “Vengeance has its time and place. Unleashing slaughter on a people who have already paid for their leader’s involvement in the murder of our king and the torture--”
His words faltered. He steeled himself against the searing rage that wanted to build up inside of him at the memories that were surfacing.
“...the torture of my Talon, is not Justice.” The words hurt to say. It hurt to know that he was free while his husband suffered. But they had to press forward. He had to trust that Talon would remain strong until they found a way to free him. He looked at those assembled. Several cast their eyes downward. Others gave him sympathetic nods.
“Zaichaer has paid for its treachery. Others will see their day in judgement.” There were some murmurs from the gathered.
“We must set plans in motion to free Prince Talon.” Aoren immediately interjected.
“No. Kalzasi’s Sky Guard must protect Kalzasi. The Silent Wings are needed to protect against the Inquisitors agents who will undoubtedly be more active now that the Dawnmartyrs walk among us openly. And do not forget the gift that has come to us through House Leukos.” News had spread about Kala’s revelation before the Council of Elders. Many were in disbelief. Others were hopeful and whispered for it to be true following such bleak times. “Kalzasi needs its warriors now more than ever. This coming winter will be harsh. Protect your homes. Protect our people. Rebuild. Let there be a Kalzasi to come back to so that our Prince has a place to rest after his ordeal. We will free him but we would be fools to forget who it is that holds him prisoner.”
He knew better than any of them what they were up against. Shaking his head, he let some silence hang there.
“I know we are angry. I know we all want to move, to act, to do something. We must be patient, even if that patience tears at us inside. Justice will be done.” Aoren looked up at all of them. “I swear it.”
The meeting pressed on as the assignments of forces across Kalzasi’s territories continued. Planning out where to bolster garrisons where they would be needed most in order to secure adequate supplies for the coming winter and helping to rebuild drained reserves. When it was finally over, Aoren dismissed the bulk of those assembled. With the exception of the Dawnmartyrs and the only other man in his life he could realistically say he loved. As a member of the Silver Hand, Rickter’s presence had been integral through the planning in helping to assign troops. He had been proud of how Rickter had lately been stepping out of his shell to be more of a leader. He walked up to the Rathari man and cupped his face, bringing their brows together as he simply let the warmth of the Bond flow over them both. He was utterly grateful for its return but there was still a piece of it that was missing, the absence of their other half being a glaring reminder of work that was unfinished. After that brief moment of reprieve, he dropped his hands to the knight’s shoulders and squeezed them. Turning to the Dawnmartyrs in the room, he regarded them with steady eyes.
“What is it you wished to speak about?” Moving over to a seat, Aoren took his own seat and invited others to do the same. One of the Dawnmartyrs stepped forward, he wore a mixture of robes and leather armor.
“Many are the stories of our Order. Throughout our history, we faced many evils. We triumphed over many great threats. Across our history, we collected many things. Things that were sealed away in the vaults of Ailos.” The mage looked to his compatriots. “Many of those things were carefully taken away from those vaults when the citadel fell to the empire.”
Aoren arched an eyebrow. He leaned forward to listen. The mage swallowed.
“We believe we may know of something that can help set our patron free and cripple the empire in a way that they will never forget.”
“And why exactly shouldn’t we finish the job?” The words were spoken by an angry looking Avialae with the wings of a sparrow. He was dressed in the armor of a Sky Guard. Various scars on the left side of his face told Aoren enough to know that this was not a new recruit but rather a seasoned veteran. Assembled before him were the various officers of the Sky Guard, the Silent Wings, and the Silver Hand, the guards of House Novalys. Among them were also representatives from the Order of the Dawnmartyr.
“Because we are not like them.” Aoren spoke clearly and without hesitation. This argument had been made more than once ever since his return to Kalzasi. “Zaichaer is broken. The regime that ruled over it has fallen. The threat it posed to us is non-existent.”
He had not personally seen the devastation that had fallen upon the City of Brass but he had heard the stories and he believed them. Hell, he believed most anything was possible after what he had been put through.
“Besides, our anger is better served being put toward more pressing threats.” He looked over the map that was sprawled across the table in front of them all. Reaching out he tapped several places. “These townships are beset with creatures that have taken advantage of the strife between the cities of the Northlands. Our people need to be protected. The coming winter is going to put a strain on the city’s reserve of supplies. Which means that we will have to embark upon expeditions into the Otherwilds in order to bolster our resources. The creatures there can be outlets for your frustrations.”
“We all want vengeance--” Another officer began speaking but Aoren was quick to cut him off.
“Vengeance? No. I want Justice.” He fixed the man with a gaze that burned softly. “Vengeance has its time and place. Unleashing slaughter on a people who have already paid for their leader’s involvement in the murder of our king and the torture--”
His words faltered. He steeled himself against the searing rage that wanted to build up inside of him at the memories that were surfacing.
“...the torture of my Talon, is not Justice.” The words hurt to say. It hurt to know that he was free while his husband suffered. But they had to press forward. He had to trust that Talon would remain strong until they found a way to free him. He looked at those assembled. Several cast their eyes downward. Others gave him sympathetic nods.
“Zaichaer has paid for its treachery. Others will see their day in judgement.” There were some murmurs from the gathered.
“We must set plans in motion to free Prince Talon.” Aoren immediately interjected.
“No. Kalzasi’s Sky Guard must protect Kalzasi. The Silent Wings are needed to protect against the Inquisitors agents who will undoubtedly be more active now that the Dawnmartyrs walk among us openly. And do not forget the gift that has come to us through House Leukos.” News had spread about Kala’s revelation before the Council of Elders. Many were in disbelief. Others were hopeful and whispered for it to be true following such bleak times. “Kalzasi needs its warriors now more than ever. This coming winter will be harsh. Protect your homes. Protect our people. Rebuild. Let there be a Kalzasi to come back to so that our Prince has a place to rest after his ordeal. We will free him but we would be fools to forget who it is that holds him prisoner.”
He knew better than any of them what they were up against. Shaking his head, he let some silence hang there.
“I know we are angry. I know we all want to move, to act, to do something. We must be patient, even if that patience tears at us inside. Justice will be done.” Aoren looked up at all of them. “I swear it.”
The meeting pressed on as the assignments of forces across Kalzasi’s territories continued. Planning out where to bolster garrisons where they would be needed most in order to secure adequate supplies for the coming winter and helping to rebuild drained reserves. When it was finally over, Aoren dismissed the bulk of those assembled. With the exception of the Dawnmartyrs and the only other man in his life he could realistically say he loved. As a member of the Silver Hand, Rickter’s presence had been integral through the planning in helping to assign troops. He had been proud of how Rickter had lately been stepping out of his shell to be more of a leader. He walked up to the Rathari man and cupped his face, bringing their brows together as he simply let the warmth of the Bond flow over them both. He was utterly grateful for its return but there was still a piece of it that was missing, the absence of their other half being a glaring reminder of work that was unfinished. After that brief moment of reprieve, he dropped his hands to the knight’s shoulders and squeezed them. Turning to the Dawnmartyrs in the room, he regarded them with steady eyes.
“What is it you wished to speak about?” Moving over to a seat, Aoren took his own seat and invited others to do the same. One of the Dawnmartyrs stepped forward, he wore a mixture of robes and leather armor.
“Many are the stories of our Order. Throughout our history, we faced many evils. We triumphed over many great threats. Across our history, we collected many things. Things that were sealed away in the vaults of Ailos.” The mage looked to his compatriots. “Many of those things were carefully taken away from those vaults when the citadel fell to the empire.”
Aoren arched an eyebrow. He leaned forward to listen. The mage swallowed.
“We believe we may know of something that can help set our patron free and cripple the empire in a way that they will never forget.”
