Hope Sundered

Chastin was alive with celebration.

The Azrahterans sang and danced as comrades congratulated each other. Toasts were made and names were praised. The smoking wreckage and stench of death did nothing to hinder the festivities. The raucous invaders ran through the streets of the ransacked village, looting and burning what remained to commemorate their first victory in Aveliria.

Not everyone present shared in the mirth. General Zordecai sat brooding on the western edge of town, staring out at the lake as the sun began its daily climb. The Dragonspine range towered like a wall in the distance, with peaks of white glimmering in the pure light of early morning. A proud and powerful empire stood poised on the other side of that natural barrier, eager to take its place among history’s greatest civilizations.

Lost in thought, the Butcher of Azrahtera watched the light sparkle across the rippling surface of Lake Chastin. The tiny, illuminated waves were hypnotizing, a welcome distraction from the flames of pain engulfing his abdomen. He didn’t even notice his lieutenant approach and stand beside him.

“General,” Varzeth repeated for the third time, with more force than the first two. Zordecai issued a distracted grunt and inclined his head but didn’t take his eyes from the water. “The men we sent out on the lake has not yet returned.”

“They’re probably dead,” Zordecai replied.

Varzeth scoffed and shook his head. “All together our losses total one hundred and twenty-two.”

“A small price to pay.”

Varzeth could no longer hold back. “Your arrogance cost you more than half of your initial force.”

“And it’s a shame you weren’t among them!” Zordecai roared. He stood to face Varzeth, wincing through the agony in his side. The two men glared at each other with unbridled hatred.

“I’ve conferred with the other officers,” Varzeth said. “They’d like to discuss all strategies before each battle from now on.”

“Impudent dog,” Zordecai spat, quaking. “I alone lead this army. This is treason!”

“To continue this campaign with such blatant recklessness would be treason. Winning this village should’ve cost you nothing, and you know it. We must never again underestimate these people. And since Aveliria knows we’re here now, we should begin harvesting lumber for scaffolds and ladders to scale Wyndham’s walls. Fortunately, we’re surrounded by miles of forest.”

“Unnecessary! The emperor’s spies are in position by now. They’ll have the gates open for us.”

“Do we know that for certain? Can we be sure they weren’t discovered, and the cavaliers’ arrival is unrelated?”

Zordecai answered with silence.

“You make far too many assumptions, General. This is your greatest flaw.”

Zordecai took a menacing step forward. “You’re not even worthy of tasting my blade. I’ll strangle the life from you with my bare hands!”

“Threaten me all you wish. I’ve arranged for a courier to ride for Anderion’s Hold with a most unfavorable status report for our emperor should I meet my death at your hands. You won’t be able to identify him until he’s far from here. I know you desire immortality above all else, but you’ll never achieve it if you allow your hubris to continue blinding you.”

“Now you threaten me?”

“It’s an observation, General, nothing more. I’ve only ever offered you sound counsel to aid your success.”

“Liar! You position yourself to seize my power! You want the glory for yourself, admit it!”

“I will not, because I do not.”

“Well, I don’t need anyone’s counsel to conquer this land, especially yours! The Azrahteran Empire cannot be defeated!”

“How fares your wound? This is the first time an opponent’s blade has ever cut you, is it not? That duel seemed evenly matched. I wonder how old that man was.”

“Enough!” Zordecai clutched his wound and felt his blood seeping through the dressing. He turned and sat, once again facing the lake. “Losigalender is his name. I heard the other villagers call to him during the battle. He wasn’t…weak for his age, but I would’ve killed him had those horsemen not shown up. He got lucky.”

“I’ve informed your other officers you weren’t stabbed, merely grazed,” Varzeth said. “Anyone who says different saw it wrong.”

Zordecai turned a suspicious eye on his lieutenant. “First you chastise me, and now you support me?” He shook his head and sighed. The sound of distant revelry filled the void of his long pause. “Tell them I’ll be ready to discuss our plans for attacking Wyndham within the hour.”

Varzeth bowed in agreement. As soon as he left, Zordecai’s thoughts returned to the infuriating Losigalender. “I’ll find you,” he whispered to the lake. “And the next time we cross blades, there’ll be no distractions, no games. I’ll put your head on a pike and carry it with me across this cursed land for all to see.”

Zordecai’s men revered him like a god. They followed him without question because he was unbeatable. Even if they believed Varzeth’s lie about his injury, too many saw Zordecai’s guard slip, even if only for a moment. Seeds of doubt had been planted, but they couldn’t be allowed to germinate.

No one pierced a god and lived.