Duke Gravewalker opened the letter he received from the messenger slowly. Face carefully composed, posture relaxed. Casually strolling down a path in the gardens he knew no one ever went.
Where privacy was guaranteed.
Only when he had vanished past an abnormally large and old yew tree did he finally read the contents of the letter. In the cradle of branches were a pile of opened letters.
Evidence of the previous updates he had been receiving on his son, Arthur Gravewalker.
When he had first decided to keep track of the boy, he had expected only disappointment. Disgust. Perhaps even contempt at whatever cowardice the boy would stoop to.
Only a small part of him had hoped. A part barely known to himself.
And he had not been disappointed.
No, not at all.
'Arthur Gravewalker has fought on the frontlines without failure.'
'Arthur Gravewalker has rescued his own kinsmen, carrying them back from the very jaws of death.'
'Arthur Gravewalker took down a flying MageKnight that had killed a commander.'
'Arthur Gravewalker has rescued his own commanding Officer.'
'Arthur Gravewalker has awakened out in battle, like the Knights of old.'
'Arthur Gravewalker has fought and rescued others with a relentless dedication that puts his own health at risk.'
Each letter he had received had been one of pride.
Of relief and joy.
His son had returned to him. His son.
Without meaning to, Duke Gravewalker had memorised the contents of each letter before stowing them away in this yew tree. As if those letters were his own personal treasure.
So it was something almost akin to anticipation when he scanned the contents of this new letter.
'Arthur Gravewalker is dead.'
He read it again.
'Arthur Gravewalker is dead.'
Perhaps there was something he wasn't understanding.
He read it again.
But for some reason, the words would not budge.
'Arthur Gravewalker is dead.'
"Ahh." A soft breath escaped his lips. An exhalation that seemed to have thirty years of his life behind it.
Sinking to the floor, hidden under the shadow of the yew tree, Duke Gravewalker read the message once more.
One final time.
'Arthur Gravewalker is dead.'
His son was gone.
But of course that's what was going to happen. Arthur was a noble, untrained and pampered his entire life.
War had no mercy, it didn't choose how ripe the fruit was before it picked it. It only took and took and took. And now it had taken his son.
No, he had let it take his son.
He had known this was going to happen. It was why he did it, to make an example out of him. A message for all those in his domain, no one was above Justice.
Only, a part of him had hoped. A small, foolish fragile part that had grown stronger with each message of his son's success. Perhaps, his son could really survive.
As if Arthur was somehow an immortal hero, and not a fourteen year old child. As if the boy could keep pulling of the impossible.
He had almost bought into it.
Almost.
"My son...is gone."
--------------------------------
[Arthur POV]
All of Unit 7 stood at sharp attention, waiting. Sighing, I brushed my now inky black hair out of my face.
It had grown too long and unkempt in the months since I had joined the army. Now it was borderline unbearable. Strands of it constantly slipped into my eyes.
How the hell did all those novel MC's bear to have long hair?
"They're coming" Caster muttered quietly, orange eyes fixed on the gates ahead.
Frowning, I strained to hear them.
It was only after a couple of moments that I felt more than heard a rythmic thumping on the ground.
The sound of marching men.
With that sound, the gates of Fort Lanai swung open with greeting.
Three squads of soldiers were welcomed into our Fort, armour gleaming the red and white colours of the rebellion.
Yet each of the patterns on the armour was unique, and intricate, as if the patterns were grown not forged.
'Relics.'
Three whole squads, with each of them having their own personal relics. It was quite a powerful force to bring, almost unnecessarily powerful.
Officer Scarlet stood at the forefront of our squad, standing alongside four of her peers. At the front stood the disguised General Thanason, posing as a man called Commander Ravix.
"Duleryon" he bellowed, shifting the weight of his hammer.
An older man, who had entered on a brown Gelding stepped forward from his men. His hair was short and white, eyes a piercing blue.
"Ravix" he drawled, voice sharp and cold. "Where is Elsira?"
The smile on Ravix's face flickered, then fell, succumbing to a face of rage. "Dead" he said simply. Then his voice took on its previous vigour, smile resurfacing. "But her death was not in vain. A good victory has been won here, Duleryon."
"I see," the older commander replied simply. Showing no interest in anything Commander Ravix had to say.
"So Duleryon, why are you here? Command refused to inform me of the details."
"I've been sent here to bolster our defenses against any future invasions."
'Liar' I growled inwardly. 'You don't bring that many soldiers strong enough to own relics for bolstering. Not unless you had news of imminent war.'
"Right," Ravix replied, frowning. "And your men?"
"My men? They're here for Reconnaissance you might say."
"Reconnaissance?"
"Yes. We're worried about any future attacks from the Empire's forces. As a result, my men accompanied by some of yours will be scouting the mountain ranges, ensuring there are no hidden passages from which the Empire can exploit."
On the surface, it seemed like a reasonable enough request. I probably wouldn't have thought anything was amiss, had I not been a spy of course.
"I've heard enough," Ravix yawned. "Feel free to command my men as you wish." Yawning, he turned away from Duleryon, making his way back towards the commander's barracks.
Thanason's acting was startlingly impressive to say the least. He seemed nothing like the man I'd known him to be. Even seeing him in action, and knowing who he was, I almost couldn't believe it.
"Well then. Reftia" Duleryon called.
A squad of soldiers parted, allowing a bronze skinned lady to step forward. She wore light armour painted white and red. Her white hair draped across it wildly, dark eyes insidiously sharp.
"Yes sir?"
"Gather a combined force and set out for a reconnaissance mission immediately. Report back in three days."
"Yes sir" she saluted as Duleryon moved past us, going in the same direction Ravix had.
'Please don't choose us, please don't choose us' I begged inwardly. It had been barely a week since I'd returned to Fort Lanai, nowhere near enough time to make up for all the time using a bed I'd lost.
But no, of course I wouldn't be so damn lucky.
Officer Reftia marched towards Officer Scarlet, saluting.
"My name is Officer Reftia, you are?"
"Officer Mara," Scarlet replied, reverting to the fake name she had used when I'd first met her.
"Is your squad free to leave immediately?"
"We'll gather some supplies and meet back here in half an hour."
Reftia nodded sharply. "My men will wait here."
'Masochist's dream' I sighed helplessly, following the rest of Unit 7 back into our barracks to retrieve our gear and supplies.
'A masochist's damn dream.'