A: Ch. 2.5

The ride through the wispy grass was easy and rather pleasant, at least Hilt thought so. There was a gentle breeze that carried the scent of dew and wild turkeys and the faintest waft of the final wildflowers of the summer before the rains came.

It was beautiful out in the open. No crowds, no orders, no rush to get anywhere. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He needed to get to the northern fortress before winter set in. The blizzards in the far north could be deadly and their only chance would be to get there before winter hit too hard.

Hilt turned in his saddle to ask the pasty whelp about distance past the Capitol only to see her dozing, slumping forward on the loyal little donkey. Her mouth was open and her body swayed lazily as her eyes drifted closed for a moment before snapping back open.

“You can rest after the sun sets,” General Hilt said loudly, dragging the poor girl back to the conscious world.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” the girl insisted.

“Good. If you fell off, I wouldn’t stop to pick you back up again.” He grinned and settled back into his molded saddle. It was much too easy to pick on this one. Even the smallest of jabs would send her off like a whirling dervish. It was so entertaining.

“How much farther?” Kya asked curtly behind him.

“Less than a league. It is just over that next rise. We’re not stopping,” he reiterated. “We’re just gathering a few more things then moving on. There is still daylight and I plan on using it.”

The donkey brayed and bucked up, snapping the girl back again. As good of a babysitter as the ass was, Hilt needed to keep her awake. She seemed to realize that as well.

“That… tunnel I went through, the one through the mountain, what was it?” she asked.

“An escape route. It was originally designed as the easiest route out of the city for the King, Nobles and highest ranking officers if the city was attacked. It was supposed to be guarded by twenty men—both at the entrance and exit—but many of the guards have grown quite complacent in their duties. They simply wander around drunk now. The city hasn’t been attacked directly for nearly ten years.”

“Be it by Velrin the Ephemeral that time is fleeting,” the girl mumbled behind her.

“That’s one of your ‘spirits’, isn’t it?” Hilt asked, turning to look back at her.

Kya looked surprised that he had heard her. “Er, yes. I know Nibheis worships Gods, but some of us in the north still believe in the old traditions.”

“Not many, if I have heard right. As more and more of Elivagar is lost in war the citizens are turning to the new Gods in the hopes that someone might actually listen to their prayers.”

Hilt could feel the glare on the back of his head. “Some,” she emphasized, “still pray to the Spirits and ask for guidance. Unlike your babe of a religion, mine has stood the test of time. The ancient scriptures go back to the first colonizers.”

Hilt stood up a bit straighter. This, this was why he wanted to go to the north. They had history, they had information. After the collapse of the Sapphire Era when the continent was united as Aisgarde, the lands were split amongst dozens of different lords and kings and others who felt they should have ownership. Over time they were absorbed into two major countries: Nibheis and Elivagar. Ever since the two have been bickering back and forth, both determined to unite the people back to the wealth and prosperity of Aisgarde.

It was rumored the old country had vast knowledge and technology that vgreatly surpassed their own. Magic, Hilt had heard from the few peasants from the north who wandered into his own country. Aisgarde had studied magic of the elements (hence their spirits) but they went too far. Their own greed destroyed their civilization.

Unfortunately all artifacts or scrolls regarding the time of the Sapphire Era were lost in Nibheis. To cover up for this, Nibhein scholars wrote their own history. Hungry for information, Hilt eagerly read it all. He was disgusted with the obvious lies that were scribbled haphazardly on aged parchment. The scholars turned to the religion of the country to fill in holes, making absurd claims about the creation of the country and went so far as to explain why northerners were a substandard race. Religion at its finest.

“The Spirits are mentioned in the ancient writings?”

“Of course,” Kya said. “Rubicon the Detached was said to have carved the first rivers which allowed the colonizers to follow the path inland. The river was deep enough to hold their ships and carry the first people.”

“The Luisant.”

“Yes,” Kya said. “But then Rubicon the Detached grew angry, why, we do not know, so she and Lylari the Belligerent forked the river into hundreds of thousands of streams that snaked and crossed and doubled back on each other. The marshes remain unexplored to this day.”

“Lylari was the plant one, yes?”

Kya looked at him queerly. “You don’t know them?”

“We believe in the Gods,” Hilt defended.

“Yes, Lylari is the spirit of Earth, Rubicon the spirit of Water. Then Karst represents Fire, Velrin, Air, and then Taerce and Aru’mat are the spirits of Light and Shadow,” Kya explained, yawning between the names.

“Right,” Hilt said, trying to memorize them quickly.

“You don’t know the ancient tongue, do you?”

Hilt was silent and Kya seemed to find this quite entertaining. She actually smiled and laughed, the first time she had shown anything but a scowl.

“Nibheis has no need for obsolete texts. Only fools live within the crevices of their past and refuse to see how it has blinded them,” Hilt snapped.

“You were the one who asked about the scriptures,” Kya said calmly.

“There,” Hilt said, pointing to a small cottage of stone and thatch just coming round the bend. “There should already be a pitcher of water inside. Clean yourself and put on a new set of clothes. We’ll keep riding until nightfall.”

They stopped at the cottage and Hilt hopped off his steed. He didn’t need to look back to know that his companion had fallen off her ass. He snickered and shook his head. 

This would be a very long journey indeed. At least it would be entertaining.

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A: Ch. 2.4

Kya had been so absorbed in her freedom from the depths of the mountain that she hadn’t looked at where she had exited or what surrounded her. General Hilt, the pompous prick, was standing just a dozen paces away from her in the dusty grass. The tunnel had taken her to the bottom of the mountain, as she had hoped, but it was apparently an obvious route down. Damn.

Luckily, there were no other guards save for the General himself and he wasn’t pointing his sword at her neck nor were there even irons in his hand. She supposed this was a good sign.

Kya pulled herself to her feet, still blinking into the blinding daylight her eyes were so unaccustomed to. She was filthy and bloody, but she hardly cared at this point. Secretly she was praying the General wouldn’t find her and she’d be able to slip away. It was illogical, of course. The General even threatened to hunt her down if she tried. But how in the Spirits’ names had he discovered where on the entire mountain she would escape through?

“You look terrible,” he noted.

Kya remained silent. Fuck face.  How clever he was.

“Intriguing,” the General said casually, pulling out an apple and taking a juicy bite.

Unconsciously, Kya licked her lips and the General smiled. She immediately cursed herself. “What is so intriguing?” she asked through gritted teeth, grudgingly falling into his ploy.

“That of all the methods of escape from the city you managed to choose the most difficult.” He smacked his lips as he sucked the juice that trickled from the corners of his mouth.

“No, the most difficult would be if I scaled the side of the mountain while carrying a rhetek on my back,” Kya growled, squaring her shoulders and stomping past him.

The General snorted with laughter and watched as she tried (and likely failed) to look strong and stoic. She was in pain, still hungry, and even more furious with this man than she thought possible.

“You still look terrible.”

She wouldn’t dignify that with a response. She continued to walk past him, looking at the vast grasslands that lay on the northern side of the mountain. The southern side was more of a desert. Winds from the south brought the heat and dust which typically settled over the city while the damp north allowed for more agriculture. The end of the long summer signified a respite for Nibheis. The brief autumn and likely long winter would bring a relief from the heat and the rains would moisten the otherwise dry country. The very northern borders of their country may get some snow, but for the most part the winter was their rainy season.

There were a few wispy spires of clouds that were collecting above them. They would float toward the mountain range, rise up, and disappear, incapable of making the journey across the giant mountains. They were miniscule in comparison to the hills and mountains in her country, especially the Rachio Mountains, but still enough to be quite impressive, especially with the almost complete lack of foliage. Everything around the naked mountains was short grass and shrubs.

“Your feet will be quite worse for wear if you walk all the way to your fortress without a pair of shoes. I’d expect them to be quite frozen up in those northern ever-snows of yours.”

Kya took a deep breath, trying to control the desire to claw out his neck.

“Unfortunately, those lovely men you call your soldiers took my shoes, gloves, jewelry, and most everything else they could get their hands on. I’ll have to make do until I reach the Capitol.”

The General shrugged and walked down a soft slope and out of sight for a moment.

“What is that?” Kya growled.

“It’s an ass, what does it look like?” the General asked. He was leading a brilliantly exquisite ebony Arabian stallion in one hand while the other was pulling along a quite reluctant donkey, complete with saddle and reins.

“What?” the General asked innocently. “You didn’t think I would make you walk, did you?”

“It’s degrading.”

“It’s fitting.”

They stared at each other for a moment, neither relenting until—

“How can you guarantee that you aren’t simply leading me into a trap?”

“I can’t.”

“How will I know you won’t kill me?”

“You won’t.”

“How will you know I’m not leading you into a trap?”

“You wouldn’t, if you value that pretty little neck of yours. Well, I assume it was pretty at some point. With all of the soot and oils melting off, you look quite absurd.”

With a disgusted sigh, she snatched the reins for the little donkey from him. He was still smiling. It was enough to make her skin crawl. The donkey bayed and dug his hooves in the ground. He tossed his head, honked his raspy throat and refused to move any farther.

“See? A stubborn ass. A match fashioned by the Gods.”

If the entire journey would be like this, one of them wouldn’t survive to the end. Gathering all of the courage she could muster, she flicked the donkey on the nose before awkwardly mounting it.

“We will be questioned if stopped. I’m still in Nibhein uniform.”

“Aye, you are, but you won’t be for long,” the General said, mounting his own glorious steed. “There’s a rest house a couple of leagues from here. You’ll have a change of clothes, including shoes, and a few packs of supplies that will hold us until we reach one of the border towns, probably Cauntin.”

Kya only nodded and tried to spur her donkey into a walk. He ignored her and tried to nose around for grass to nibble on. It took quite a sharp kick in the ribs to move the little ass. It reluctantly moved in line behind the large Arabian.

“Lylari the Belligerent, this day shall never end,” Kya grumbled under her breath. She saw the General twitch his head back, but he didn’t say anything.

A league or so into their journey of complete silence, Kya’s stomach clenched in anger and distress. It groaned mournfully and gurgled in demand of food. She clutched it and inwardly winced.

“Here,” the General said, tossing back a golden pear. “It should hold you for a few more hours.”

She took a bite and could have cried. Nothing had ever tasted so sweet. “Shouldn’t I be leading?”

“Do you know the route to the house?” General Hilt asked inquisitively, turning in his saddle to stare at him. “And beyond that I doubt you know the quickest route through Nibheis. Elivagar, perhaps, but not down here in the south.”

The pear disappeared much too quickly and Kya longingly sucked at her fingers, not even minding the dirt and blood.

“I’m assuming you didn’t make the journey here on your own,” General Noden stated. It wasn’t a question.

Kya paused. “No, I did not.”

“And your companions? Your horse?”

“They turned back north. We don’t anticipate survivors anymore.”

He seemed to accept the answer and continued to lead them down a game trail. Shame there wasn’t much game left. Much had been hunted and slaughtered for the never-ending hunger of Beinn. The large city needed much meat to satiate its people.

“Will I at least be given your name?” the General finally asked. “I could of course refer to you as ‘pasty’ but as I understand it, you northerners don’t like that name.”

Kya’s jaw was clenching tightly, but she didn’t see much use in lying.  Pasty was a crude name that the tanned and bronzed southerners called the people of her country. Their skin was so fair it looked like the paste created while making cheese.

“I would prefer it if you didn’t,” Kya said curtly.

“Well? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Kya glared at him. “I know your name. Everyone knows your name.”

“Ah, but do you know my first name?”

Kya opened her mouth, but quickly snapped it shut. No, she didn’t. It had taken nearly six months and just as many soldiers’ lives to discover that General ‘Hilt’ was actually General Noden.

The General smirked.  “See? It’s a fair trade. My true name is Damien Noden.”

“I think I preferred ‘Hilt’.”

“And yours?”

Kya took a deep breath and gazed out at the rolling grasses. “Kya.”

“Just Kya?”

“Just Kya.”

He turned in his saddle so he could see her better. “Not Kya the strategist? Highest ranking female in the Elivagan military for over a century?”

Kya’s mouth gaped open and she stupidly blinked. “But how did you--?”

“I listen, I watch, I learn. It wasn’t particularly hard to figure out. Your mannerisms alone give it away. You question things too easily and your chess skills match your attack styles.”

“They do not!” Kya growled, outraged.

“Aye, they do. You’re sloppy and rely on one or two strong pieces to attack while leaving gaping holes in your defense. You may think two steps ahead, but always for your own pieces, never the opponents. As soon as there is a deviation, you panic and retaliate too quickly.”

She stared at him. He seemed bored in his explanation, as if it was completely obvious.

“This is supposed to be your job. The fact that you cannot see your own flaws is the reason why you are so terrible at it.”

Fuming, Kya kicked her donkey up so she could ride alongside him, granted a few feet lower.

“And what gives you the impression you have supreme knowledge of all military strategy?”

He stared at her. “My side is winning.”

“For now!”

Hilt rolled his eyes and spurred his stallion into a faster trot which forced her cranky pony into a canter. “You should stop talking. You are only making yourself look worse.”

“You’re more loathsome than a louse.”

“Perhaps, but I’m still winning the war.” He flashed her a wicked smile. “We’re almost at the resting house. We’ll stop and gather a few things—you will wash the filth off of your skin—and then continue north. With any luck we’ll make it to Cauntin within the week.”

“Whatever you say, Hilt.”

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A: Ch. 2.3

“Stupid, worthless, evil, wretched man…”

Kya grumbled as she slipped, once again, and fell hard on her backside. She swore loudly and fumbled back to her feet. There was absolutely no light, and her fingers were too numb with cold to help feel along the side of the sloping granite cavern. But it wasn’t much of a cavern, was it? Too perfectly symmetrical and smooth to the touch.

This all could have been avoided had the general not been such a globbering dung-bat. It would have been simple to just lock her back in chains and walk her through the front gate. Easy. But no, he had to challenge her to get out herself, without being seen or captured again. Not only did she have to escape the city, but she had to get out of his castle where they house a majority of the Nibhein army!

It was a game, Kya told herself. He was just trying to see if she would stay loyal to their agreement. He would, of course, break her out if she was captured… right? No, he would send her to the mines to rot – but she was in the mines anyway!! It was the only reasonable way she could climb down the mountain without being seen. The curfew forbade anyone to walk about the streets without a purpose and a lone woman in military garb and abrasions on her wrists from iron cuffs and a lack of proper footwear (hers were taken when she was brought up by the guards) wasn’t going to get her particularly far.

So after an hour of stumbling through the castle, leaping behind tapestries to avoid guards and at one point behind an elaborate statue of one of their Gods, she wormed her way back into the city – for the most part. She still had to get through the castle gates. That had been difficult. Going through the gate would be impossible, they’d never let her pass, and going over wasn’t an option. She ended up following the entirety of the large wall until she found a small grate in which water flowed passed to the tiers below (she still hadn’t figured out how the water got so far up the mountain anyway). She praised her petite and slender frame for the first time in her life as she easily slipped between the iron bars and tumbled into a small reservoir just outside the large marble wall.

From there it was simply a matter of finding a way down the mountain. Up had been easy as she had simply followed the crowds, boarding on the lifts with groups of soldier and civilians alike. Down the mountain on the darkest night of the month with no moon to guide her was a problem. Guards patrolled all of the streets and routinely inspected the shadowed alleys and crevices she would normally hide in. So she had no choice. She had to risk an eternity of wandering aimlessly through the labyrinth of mines.

Somehow, and she figured it must have been dumb luck since Kya lacked any and all sense of direction, she managed to slip into a surprisingly polished mineshaft while looking for a good hiding spot. The arches were tall and lit with a series of torches which sparkled off the veins of gold and silver which streaked through it. The floor was gracefully polished to feel like silk and the walls were adorned with elaborate carvings in their face. More than that, it sloped easily down in a large spiraling fashion. Perfect. Down was exactly where she wanted to go.

Unfortunately, the torches did not last the length of the tunnel and she began to hate that sleek floor. Her calloused and bloodied feet slipped and skidded on the increasingly dramatic slope and the bowels of the mountain became cold and frigid the deeper she traversed. The stone seemed to sap away any warmth she retained from her fingers and feet, but if she tucked her hands in the pits of her arm to warm, she would slip and skid a dozen paces down the death-trap slide. But the walls created fear. She could feel the grumbling and groaning of… something beyond them. She tried to ignore it, but at times it felt like something was inches from her fingertips, scratching and banging and gurgling...

She was cold, sweaty, bloodied, and downright cranky. Her stomach growled (she had not eaten since the morning prior) and her head throbbed with each tentative step she took. Every passing moment, for she could no longer decipher length of time, she hated the General more and more. For all she knew, this was a new method of torture where he gave her a bloody obstacle course, only to find a firing squad awaiting her at the finish line. It was just a new technique to create a new level of humility for the pathetic northerners.

Bastard, he was a bloody bastard. What she would give to have him hogtied and helpless in a room for just five minutes… Soon, she promised herself, soon she would get her chance.

Her toe stubbed on a sudden new terrain and she tumbled forward, again. She stopped counting how many times she fell ages ago, around the same time she stopped caring how loud her groans were. Wincing, she pulled herself upright from the now graveled path and blinked into… light. It was the faint outline of a door, there was no mistaking it. The light was bright and severe as it wrapped around the frame. 

Daylight. She had been blindly wandering around for the entire night, perhaps she went through the next day and night as well, she couldn’t tell. She just wanted out.

She lunged toward it, desperate to escape this wretched version of hell. She fumbled with the lock for a moment before flinging open the small wooden door.

Sun! It was the beautiful sun! Oh, she had taken it for granted up on that despicable mountain, but it was so beautiful! She had lived in days almost entirely consumed by night in the farthest reaches of her country, but that mountain consumed light and warmth far beyond the snows of the north.

Smiling, she slumped in the warm rays, taking in deep breaths of the fresh air. She hadn’t realized how stagnant it had been in that hallway, if you could call it anything else. The air was so light and supple and it caressed her skin with the softest of touches.

“Well, that took longer than expected.”

Well, shit. 

The General was waiting for her.

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