Revised "Chapter" 6

The mountains were easy to get lost in, and she herself had done it, running away from the Sisters that had taken her from her father. It wasn't that she disliked them... she did, but that wasn't the point. They had teased her, how she would never be blessed by any of the gods. Some was mere teasing, but most was in dead earnest, and even those who had been older than her had never been so cruel when she was with her father. Being away from him broke her heart. She longed to hear the cheerful laughter of her brother. It was impossible, though, for either thing to be heard, and in her despair Nia had run from it all, as fast and as far as possible, after being forced to do penance for her parents once more. It sickened her that they thought she was shamed of them- she loved them, though her feelings were growing more bitter by the day.

That day she found herself lost among the peaks and valleys. Her mountain had truly been the border of the country, and that was why their accent more closely mirrored Dremine's, but that was unknown to her at that age. She knew her family had fled, there, though, and she was determined to follow, it. Nia's eyes flooded with tears, remembering the trek, and turned to scurry away from the camp she was in. It was getting to be too much to remember, and this was not the place to do, it, in front of the hardened uncaring eyes.

Her feet slipped on the grass like they had on that day. It was harder to keep her balance then, and she had come away with blood across her knees. They had stung and feeling unable to go any farther in her dirty things and tired body, she wept. Crying until she went to sleep, the stars alighting the sky above her.

When she awoke, it had been in an unfamiliar place, a home in a style that was unfamiliar to her. She nearly started crying again as the door opened and a large man stepped in, a smile on his face. A woodsman, having saved her when she was out there, from exposure. She would certainly have died in this weather, as it was nearing the chill of winter and she was wounded. He didn't quite speak the same tongue, nor was it the city tongue that she had come to know from visitors that came through occasionally.

That was fine, though, since he fed her and wrapped her knees, and made sure that she was in no pain. Nia thanked him with hugs and smiles, and that seemed enough for the man. He lived alone, and in a hut that was far away from a village. He wasn't stupid or ignorant, though, because he knew what her robes symbolized, and the moment she was healed up, he placed her on a wagon that was bound for the mountains again. The guards that checked travelers could speak her language and theirs, and got the story out of her, however reluctant she was to give it. It might have only been for a few days, but the man had showed her kindness that the Sisters had not, and she had never forgotten it.

The cool bark of the tree she rested against, breathing hard from the memories that were brought up, felt good against her skin. The imprint of it was digging into her skin. She didn't mind, was glad for the feeling to bring her back to reality. It was important to not get too lost in the past. Otherwise she'd always regret not running away and staying in that country.
She couldn't stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. It wasn't fun to remember the kindness that she had been treated with for those days, being allowed to run and frolic to her heart's content. But it had ended, and she had been tossed back to the people that had hated her and wished her dead. She slumped to her knees, feeling exhausted from the day's events, from the memories that were overwhelming her. It was unexpected to feel a touch on her shoulder and someone ask quietly whether she was okay.

The words didn't register in her mind, though. All she could do was shriek at the touch, falling away as best she could as she turned back to see who it was and what they wanted. The general she had treated was reaching for her, concern in his eyes. Hush! Please! You'll bring the others running! I won't be accused of assault by my own troops. A light smile belied his words. He didn't seem to be too concerned by her actions, but there was a harshness to his tone that demanded obedience. Nia slipped onto her knees and bowed her head. "My apologies. I didn’t mean to do something so starling. Please forgive me."

He kneeled and brushed her hair away from her face. It was unexpected, and she flinched from it. It was not every day that such a kind touch was given, and it didn't ease her worries that he would become violent with her. Plenty of soldiers were grateful when she treated them and not so afterwards. She knew that from far too much experience. He, however, was surprising her by it.

"I would appreciate if you did not move to touch me in the future" she mumbled. It was quiet, but Nia attempted to make her tone firm. It came out more as angry or tearful, though. "I apologies for startling you, and meant no harm. Forgive me, and I will leave back to the camp and let you do what you need to."

She could see her reflection in the metal that encased his body. It was no more than the chain mail that was traditionally worn by the cavalry, but it shone with the brightness that marked it as some of the most high-quality material they had in the kingdom. She ducked her head, unwilling to meet his eyes. "I'm sure that you need to scout for enemy troops without my bothering you."

"They were after the Prince, were they not? I’m sure that they are long gone by now, thinking that he is away from the Camp on his way to the next town."

Her eyes glanced upward and she noticed his face. A gasp escaped, and she could hardly believe who she was beholding. "Sire! You're back from the journey? But I was sure that your wound..." "My wound was bad, but mostly healed, and when the tranquilizer wore off and we heard about what was happening here I could hardly say no to coming back. It would be a terrible loss to let you fall into the enemy's hands, after all." She lowered her eyes to the ground. It was strange, but for a moment, she had hoped that he would be saying that he could hardly let her get captured because she was nice, and that she was undeserving of the treatment that was befalling her. It was a silly hope, though. He didn’t know her personally, and as the Prince he would value her skills over her as a person.

He held his hand out to her. "I will escort you back then?"
"Don't. I'm just a healer and a halfie. I would be in trouble with the others if I took such actions with you, though I appreciate the thought behind them, sire." Her broth deepened as she spoke. Her memories were back inside the backs of her mind, but the emotions they stirred were not. She was almost ashamed to admit that she was freelancing like bursting into tears, wanting nothing more than to be help like she had been held by that man that day.

Ach, how she missed her father.

Regardless, she stood up and brushed herself off. This was no time to be getting lost and weeping, and she knew that. Anger at herself welled up, fueling her desire to get back and start working again. "Thank yees for your kindness, but please don't offer it again. Your father would not be pleased."

"He isn't pleased with much I do these days. You have not heard of my engagement to a young lady of no means? I could do no worse, and this is something that he would frown upon anyway. Even so, if you wish me to let you be, then I will respect your wishes. Thank you for going back, it will be a help to us that are still looking here. You might accidently get mistaken for an enemy with most soldiers, and that would leave us one less Sylph. That would be a shame indeed, since I have not yet repaid you for your service."

She tightened her fists at that, and then shrugged. It was dreadfully embarrassing that he had come for her, but what was she to do> Ah, well. She stood, held his hand for a moment longer and stepped away. This wasn't someplace that she should be staying around in, and there was no reason for her to stick around the prince, for sure.

Liam watched her go for a moment, thinking about the young Priestess. She was something of a mystery, and enigma, within the Order. After all, there were next to no half-breeds anywhere visible within the social casts. To add to that, a Sylph? So important in these times of war! What had she been doing out there, though? It wasn't a place for anyone to be if they wanted to be safe. He rested his own hand against the tree she had been resting against. It was solid, the rough bark digging into his hand. At least she appeared to be safe, and wouldn’t come to harm from his own soldiers. That was one thing he prided himself on having trained them in- manners and chivalry.

It was something that he felt should be spread to the rest of the kingdom. That last thing they needed were disgruntled commoners when they were trying to fight a war. Father really bungled this up, he snarled to himself. There were times his anger overtook him, and this was one of them. His eyes swept the forest, his ears alert, but his inner monologue really started to take off. That damn bastard, needing to agitate things between elves and human. They weren't bad people, and they did so much important work for the nation. It was like Father didn't understand that, and Liam didn't know why. It was a shame because there were so many good soldiers among the humans, and scholars as well, thinkers, though they were more difficult to come across. Most had been educated by the Order or had been taken in by them at some point, but they had never proved to be inferior to their more immortal counterparts. Why couldn't father accept that? It was a shame indeed.

Besides, this one was proving that the policy was wrong. The finger that had the ring felt heavier as he thought, his heart filled with thoughts of Lianna. She was the joy he thought he'd lost long ago. Even his younger sister had not brightened his days after a while of war. Being a general did not suit him in the least, but Liam had nonetheless taken up the mantle of responsibility and had taken charge of a small group of troops. His father remained the commander, and had sent Liam to repel an invading force from the West. Lianna had been one of the elves rescued, one of the more minor nobles. But she worked in the fields alongside the humans, had sang with them, enjoyed their tales, and the one s that worked under her father had been well-treated and enjoyed fairly comfortable lives. It was surprising and pleasing to see such things happening in his nation. What more could be desired?

With a look of her eyes, Lianna had captured his heart. It was a rather rude shock to his father, but Liam was set to take the nation, and was already making his own deals with the counselors and advisors. There was little his father could get him to take away from everything that his legacy held. It was something that Liam was proud of. Except... now he had to worry about traitors in his own kingdom. That was not good. Who would try to do such a thing and get him killed? He thought he had treated those he came across with respect, but apparently it wasn't enough. His thoughts strayed to the guard, since the Sylph was someone fairly above suspicion. She had nothing to win by his death. The guard, though... He saw one of his foot soldiers coming towards him, and Liam motioned him near.

"There are no rebels or enemies here, sir. There is every sign that they have left and headed back towards the border."

"Good. Tell the rest to start moving back towards camp and setting up. We will stay here the evening before following- we have no rush. They only wanted me and are unlikely to attack any villages or villagers along the way. Understood?" With a brusque nod, the elf scurried back into the woods, his quick, darting movements but quiet steps giving the impression of an overlarge mouse. Liam chuckled slightly. He liked comparing people to animals, and enjoyed the similarities that could be found between them.

With that, he turned back towards the camp, knowing that there would be duties to be carried out and announcements to make. Especially since by now the camp knew that he was the Prince, and not just an important general. Their lives would be in danger again, so perhaps it was time to send those in this camp packing and take those who would follow into battle. His troops needed refreshing, anyway, so this would be no ordeal for them. Sylph would get a guard of her own until they were safely in the heart of the capital, he surmised, with her Superior getting another. Other than that... Thoughts of plans filled his head as he started into camp. Soldiers were already making their way back and arranging themselves in the green fields where forest had been cleared many decades ago, but had not been planted over with anything else due to the poor soil that had been there. The trees enjoyed it, but it was good for naught else except burial mounds and flowers.
And burials there were. The pyres were lit by nightfall, and the bodies piled on. Friend and foe, it did not matter, all were sent to the Gods for equal judgment. There was no difference between any ashes when it was over, the scent of roasting flesh both enticing and repellant for the soldiers, many of who knew the feel of it too well and had seen others injured by it. It was something that always shocked Liam a bit, when all was said and done, how the other nations had discovered brutal methods beyond swords and shields. This, though, was simple enough. Death. He had gazed over the charred flesh as the sparks flew high into the sky, until everything had been reduced to cinders. It had taken most of the afternoon to clear a place large enough for this to take place. There were no more than 20 dead, but to do them all at once before the flesh began to rot and disease began to spread, it was necessary. The fields were cleared of grass as quickly as possible, with the help of the townspeople who wanted the dead to pass onto the next world as quickly as possible (the destruction of the bodies that once held them helping to convince the lingering spirits to move on, according to local belief).

That circle of brown earth and loam, turned over for the clearing for the fire, smelled of fat drippings and meals now. He shuddered slightly as he also took part in the scattering of the ashes. They slipped through his fingers slowly, grey and cool, like water or silk, though it left a fine remnant over his own flesh. He trailed it where he went, knowing that it would do the ground good, perhaps allow the land to be tilled one day if it was nourished properly. Up to the tree line, the soldiers that took part -nearly all of them for this was something that was becoming far too common and solemn to ignore- scattered their ashes up to the tree line. Trails of silver that almost shone in the near darkness and rising moonlight showed their individual paths. The soldiers were like constellations, with comet trails or the lines of the galaxy following them in regal manner.

Liam had always held an admiration for those who would do such a thing for their own fellows. Most subscribed to the Order's religion, the religion that they had lived by for generations, since the beginning of the kingdom. It was said that when a soldier took his fellow in hand, and helped them to the next world, then when their time came, the one they helped would be there with two great steeds, to lead the helper off into the afterlife, the Great Grasslands, the land of the Dead who died in proud battle. It was damnably envious that they could believe so firmly. After losing so many, after scattering so many ashes, Liam didn't know if he could believe in such a thing. There would be a whole cavalry of soldiers taking him to his place in the underworld if it were true. And that was not taking into account the ones that he had killed that might block his own path there, screaming for revenge, possibly sending creatures to take his soul to torture and pain, possible sending them on the wrong path to wander eternally in the Mists of Time.

He shook his head mournfully. That was likely his fate, as he had ultimately been responsible for the deaths of so many. The ring felt cool against his skin as he lifted it to contemplate the fate that awaited him when his time finally came. The ash had left it with a silver sheen, a strange and ugly mix of colors that would not do when he saw her again. Ashes of elves were always difficult to clean off, and some said that there was always a trace of them with you (which was how they found you once you yourself had died). His hands had almost never been truly clean since he began this long campaign, and he could believe that tale. It was likely that his own time would come before he could wash himself clean of these ashes that now lingered on top of the others that he had come here with.

But that was for another time. Right now he needed to address the men. He looked into the darkness of the forest, feeling the breeze that alighted on the field and started sweeping the remains into the trees, glittering as if light flecks of snow or ice were falling to the ground or tumbling from the grass. It was almost beautiful.

Beauty of death was not something that a soldier about to return to battle should be thinking of, Liam scolded himself. He turned, and became aware that the ones here had surrounded him, wanting to be with their captain. Liam’s soldiers were closest to him, forming a shield and barrier, especially necessary after what had happened earlier with the assassination attempt. But others from the camp- wounded, healers, those who were merely bored guards that were good for nothing else and responsible for taking care of things within the camp, stood near. This was peaceful, though, a restful calm that had overcome everyone, much to his own surprise.

Perhaps because they knew there would be no attack tonight- the enemy would be tending their own wounded and conducting their own funerals for their dead, even if some of the bodies were not with them. Liam bowed his head. "These were good men, who died protecting those who could not protect themselves. They did their best in the line of duty, fought hard, and fought with all the pride they had in their kingdom and in themselves. We owe them our gratitude for protecting us, in their own way, and I know that I shall ever be thankful that they were willing to put themselves at such risk for something so trivial. I do not wish for their deaths to be in vain. Therefore, I announce to you, that I am Prince Liam, of this dear nation, and I am grateful to all those who drew their swords. Though you were at risk because of my presence, you did your duty, you refused to give me over, though you knew not who I was at that time, and I cannot be more grateful. You all have reason to be proud of yourselves." His eyes lifted, and he met the gaze of the still silent, expecting soldiers.
"We will be following them tomorrow. Tonight, we will rest in remembrance." His former announcement was impressing no one. After all, they had to know something was up if he was making this announcement, and after what these rogues had asked nothing less than his announcement of royalty was expected. Besides, everyone knew that the Prince helped fight, command the army. What else was there for him to say about it all? He sighed and lowered his head ever so slightly. "Those who wish to come, may come. But you have to have approval from the Sisters to fight. Have the Sylph check you out, give you medicines, treatment, whatever. However, without her approval, none of you will be coming. As for everyone else, who is not approved, then you will be heading someplace safer into the interior, while new soldiers set up around here. Understood?"

There needed no response other than the looks upon their faces. Many of them had gained a look of disgust at the thought of having to have the Sylph's approval. However she was the best to determine if they could fight, and it was her approval that was needed. "If I find any of you that have not been to her, or are disregarding her orders concerning treatment, then you will be disciplined immediately, sent to the interior for menial punishment and demotion! Understood?" That should make her job that much easier. He trusted the Sylph, since she had saved him. There was so much he could do to improve her standing like this, and he felt badly for it. The sweet thing seemed tired of all of this, and going to the interior probably wouldn't help, but at least she would be out of the way of the army and the might save her life this time.

He gazed out over the men, seeing the acknowledgement in their eyes, the way they held themselves. Many were proud that they were going to be able to come with him, or at least have the opportunity. He could see the slump of those who knew their journeys were heading back into the country. And still others had sly looks in their faces. Abandoners, deserters, those would need to keep an eye on or make warnings for. Ah, dear. "Then rest tonight. And I will expect you all at first light. Dismissed." He stepped back and started around the group. They all stood for a moment watching, him, and then little by little they started filing back towards the camp, eventually turning into a large tumbleweed of a group, some helping their comrades back due to exhaustion ad injury, others making their ways back hesitantly for nights like these were said to forebode something worse in the early hours of the morning. His eyes strayed towards the sky. The Sylph would have her work cut out for her this evening, and he smiled grimly at the thought of it, making a silent apology to the gods, and wishing her a better luck than she had so far.