Hiatus.

Hello everyone! I just wanted to give you a heads up, that for the rest of the month I will be inactive on this blog. This is so I can focus on other important things in my life, and generate enough content to not be behind schedule again. Thank you for your patience and understanding! Happy holidays!

Tales of Erelith: The Exile (Chapter 5, Part 2)

By the time the sun rose, the coastline reeked of death. Holden watched the open sea, sitting atop a log in the cover of the jungle. Planted in the dirt next to him was his last two arrows. He took great care of them, so they would last the night.

“See them yet?” Honler asked, focused on wrapping a bandage around his thigh. It was but one of several wounds he received through the numerous skirmishes under the moon. However, he seemed ready to fight, despite the injuries.

Holden frowned, as the sea was absent of any kind of ship. “Not yet.” Plucking an arrow from the earth, Holden examined it. The arrowhead was dull from constant usage. Sighing, he set the arrow back down, knowing full well that the other was no better. “Are you feeling any better?”

“We’ll avoid discussing how I feel.” Honler closed his eyes, and rested his hands on his chest. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll have the doctors examine me when the forces reach us.”

Holden glanced over at Honler, as he felt a sense of disgust with himself. The growing daylight made it apparent how much of a bloody mess Honler actually was. It made Holden feel somewhat like a coward, since his pains much pale in comparison to what the sergeant felt. He moved off of the log, taking a seat on the ground and resting his back against it. He felt exhaustion start to take over, after so long. The adrenaline of battle had been enough to keep him awake for hours on end, but with no dangers lurking nearby -- after having killed so many Rnyrtians, he hoped that was the case -- he was finally falling victim to sleep. His eyelids grew heavy, as he managed one last glance at Honler, before drifting off.

***

Holden opened his eyes, finding himself back in Perona. He stood on a wooden platform, surrounded by countless citizens; all with angry expressions. He tried to speak, but no words would leave his mouth. He was not suppressed in any manner, however his voice held no volume. His arms and legs were bound by rope, making it impossible to do anything. Then, a rope fell over his head, and slithered tightly around his neck. Holden’s eyes shot wide; was he being hung?

He cried out for his life, before the platform gave way, silencing his mute screams. Fighting desperately to breathe, Holden felt the pressure building up in his head, and the air trapped in his lungs. His useless struggling became more and more taxing, until he stopped moving altogether, falling asleep.

***

In cold sweat, Holden sat up, looking about the area. Everything was as he left it, spare the sun was much higher up. Breathing raggedly, he felt his neck, glad to find nothing constricting him. As real as it felt, the execution was a mere dream. “How long was I asleep?” he asked. When Honler said nothing in turn, Holden looked over his shoulder, and felt the blood in his veins chill. All there was in his absence was a bloody, soiled bandage on the ground. Getting up, Holden drew an arrow from the ground, and readied his bow. “Honler?” he called out, looking around as a sense of anxiety crawled up his spine. Someone took Honler, and he could just as easily be taken.

What did the Rnyrtians do to prisoners? To those they knew killed their brothers and sisters, and in mass numbers? He shuddered at the thought. There was no civility with savages, no rules or limits they were not meant to surpass. For all he knew, being hung would have been a grace compared to what they had in store for him.

The snapping of a twig behind Holden made him jump, before he whirled around and fired his arrow. It whistled through the air before hitting a tree with a meaty thunk.

“Easy, easy!” Someone cried out from behind the tree. “Scout Alnharte, disengage yourself!”

Dawning on him that it was a Sea Tiger, Holden lowered his bow, but not his guard. “I understand,” he said, “ you can come out.”

The Sea Tiger came out of hiding, approaching Holden slowly. “Sergeant Honler came out to us a while ago, and he told us to send for you, after the doctors evaluated him.” He clasped Holdens shoulder. “He told us how the two of you eliminated so many Rnyrtians in one night. Impressive, I might add.”

“Is Honler alright?” asked Holden.

“You can breathe easy. His cuts are numerous, but none are deep. He has thick skin.” The Sea Tiger motioned for Holden to follow him. “He’ll have plenty of time to recover. We’re still setting up the camp. That, along with waiting for you to gather information involving the whereabouts of the Rnyrtian capital.” As they walked towards the coast, Holden could hear orders being shouted. Soon to come into view was the Sea Tiger’s camp. Even in such a short amount of time, a few tents were already completed.

A loud crackle of thunder resounded through the camp. Some of the soldiers swore or groaned to express their discontent at the noise. Those who had yet to erect their tents moved closer to the treeline first. It must be to ensure that their camp would not be swept out to sea during the storm. Holden took note of a large, important-looking tent as the Sea Tiger led him towards its entrance.

“This is the officer’s quarters,” the Sea Tiger explained. “The General of Foreign Campaigns himself disseminates his messages through the personnel here. The current Colonel running things has requested you by name, Scout Alnharte.”

“By name?” Holden blinked. There were only a few people who knew his name already.

“Head inside when you’re ready. I need to help with the tents, lest we all be at the storm’s mercy. Just be careful when dealing with him, he can come off as intimidating.” With a salute, the Sea Tiger departed, leaving Holden alone in front of the officer’s tent.

Pulling the tent flap open, holden stepped into a dimly lit space. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, before he found himself standing in front of a man with broad shoulders, a grizzled beard, and armor-clad.  He almost jumped back as the man chuckled.

“So, you’re the fresh meat under my wing,” the man said. He turned around, and beckoned Holden to come closer. “Alnharte, you will address me as Colonel Marius. As long as you’re with the Sea Tigers and this campaign you’ll treat my word as if is the holy commandments of Hino himself.”

“Understood,” Holden replied, but he quickly regretted opening his mouth as Marius gave him a glare that could have shattered stone.

“Count your blessing that we need you,” Marius growled, “else I’d break every piece of you until you were a properly disciplined soldier. When you talk to me, it will be ‘yes sir,’ ‘no sir,’ or any proper variation of the two.”

“Yes sir!”

“Now, I trust that you were briefed on your upcoming role beforehand, with locating the Rnyrtian capital. It appears that the weather has taken a turn for the worse, so the terrain will be difficult to traverse. Keep in mind that there are routes through the marsh that composes the inland laid over with wooden planks, but avoid them. They’re highways for the Rnyrtians, and jeopardizing your anonymity amongst them is a surefire way to get yourself killed.. That, along with the host of creatures in the wilderness, and Rnyrtians lurking about, will prove if you’re worthy of our place among us.” Marius’ tone was almost spiteful; each word was a snarling beast, bading ill fortune to wrap itself around Holden. “Go on, prepare yourself and set off. Report back to me when you’ve uncovered the capital.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re dismissed.” Marius watched with his scorching glare as Holden exited the tent.

Once outside, Holden gave a small sigh of relief, before wandering about the camp. Of all the emotions he felt, fear was the one Marius had a strong grip on. It made sense. As Yerryn explained, the Sea Tigers were an unruly bunch. Having such a fierce leader made it easy to keep them all in line. Holden searched the camp for Honler, to ensure that he was recovering. When he stopped in front of a tent composed of white cloth, Holden peered inside to find a couple rows of cots lining either side of the interior. They were all empty, spare one near the back.

“I see they found you,” Honler said, with a slight grin. “Sorry I didn’t wake you up when they arrived.”

“It’s fine,” Holden said. “If you hadn’t, they could have moved on to a different place along the coast in search of us, and find warriors of Rnyrt rushing to greet them.”

“Aye.” Honler shifted in bed, his new bandages as white as the tent. “Don’t let me keep you from your duties, Holden. I’ve suffered far worse and pulled through. Besides, the few days that you will be gone gives me plenty of time to recover.”

“Few days?”

“What were you expecting?” Honler chuckled heartily. “You weren’t going to simply travel through Rnyrt and back in a day. You’ll be fine, though.” He sat up, and clasped Holden’s shoulder. “Just don’t fight anything that can easily kill you; jungle stalkers, Rnyrtian patrols, Hino forbid any mix of the two.”

Holden could not help but smirk. “Don’t worry, Honler, I’ll keep myself alive.”

“Then I have only one more favor to ask of you.”

“Yes?”

Honler grinned wide. “Pack an adequate amount of arrows, this time.”

Tales of Erelith: The Exile (Chapter 5, Part 1)

The air was much warmer and humid, compared to what Holden was accustomed to back home. Though the land of Rnyrt was still a good distance away, he could tell that it was different from On’hino. It was undeveloped, at least at first glance; not a settlement in sight. “Are you sure this is Rnyrt?” Holden asked Thusk, as they stood by the rails of the Goliath.

“I’ve sailed over these waters since before you were born,” Thusk said as he leaned against the railing. “Unless the gods have reformed the realm in the brief time we were docked in Perona, that is indeed Rnyrt. What were you expecting from a land of savages?”

“It just seems as if nobody would live out here,” said Holden, nodding towards the untouched jungle. “No ports, beacon towers, or anything.”

“And you won’t find any.” Thusk glanced at Holden. “They’re smart enough to burrow into the heart of their own lands, where our navy could not easily carve into their populace. But, it’s past time to put an end to their sense of invulnerability.”

Holden observed the coast further. He would have to approach from the open ocean, and in broad daylight. All it would take was one patrol spotting him along the way to botch his mission -- and his chances of survival -- altogether. “Do we approach now?”

“Fortunately not. You’ll go under the veil of darkness.” Thusk stepped away from the rails, with Holden following him. “You ought to make sure that you’re well prepared. Regardless of your success, the expeditionary force will land at dawn. Whether they are welcomed by you or a host of Rnytian warriors is contingent on your success.” He walked towards his captain’s quarters, before letting out a sharp whistle. Within a moment, Hrodgaier approached Holden and Thusk. “Hrodgaier, get Honler’s arse out of his quarters, and send him here.”

“Right away, captain.” Hrodgaier turned and went for the lower decks, as Holden and Thusk entered the captain’s quarters.

“We must speak further of your objectives in private,” Thusk said, before taking a seat at his desk. “Once the expeditionary forces reach the staging area, you will be moving further into Rnyrt, bearing west of where the forces will land.” He tapped his finger on the map of Rnyrt, which was already rolled out. “While it is known that the capital lies within Rnyrt, there is no certainty as to its location.”

“So, you want me to find the capital?”

“Aye. Then return to camp, and point the forces in the right direction.” Thusk turned his attention to the door as it opened, and Honler stepped in. “We’ve only been on the waters for several days, yet you look like the dead awoken.”

“I’ll be fine,” Honler said, clearing his throat. “I don’t think I have left in me to wretch.”

“You’d do well to try and not prove yourself wrong,” Thusk muttered. “After the expeditionary force reaches the staging area, you will be assigned to lead the forces into battle, once Holden finds the capital.”

“As in, Holden alone?” Honler folded his arms across his chest, as Thusk raised an eyebrow. “He has barely any field experience.”

“And he will find none as a scout if you’re nursing him the entire time.” Leaning back in his chair, Thusk glared at Honler. “Rnyrtians are the weakest of warriors, in terms of discipline and combat capability. If he cannot handle them alone, then his career as a scout will be short lived.”

While the scowl on his face remained, Honler said nothing.

“Honler,” said Holden, “I’ll be fine. And you can tell Yerryn that it was my decision to go off alone, against your judgement.” At least then, Yerryn would not blame Honler should anything happen.

“Well, go and ready yourselves for nightfall.” Thusk nodded towardes the door. “May Hino watch over you, and sharpen your blades.”

***

The waters in the dead of night were calm, as if the ocean itself was asleep. Aboard a rowboat, Holden looked through the black of night at the shore, which was nearby. Lifting the hood of his cloak off of his head, he took a moment to adjust the straps of his hide tunic. Though it would do him little good as far as preventing mortal wounds, it restricted his movement less than the other armor Thusk had offered him along with the apparel he was given. It was even stained to blend in better with the wilderness.

A tapping on his shoulder turned Holden’s attention to Honler, who pionted towards a few specks of light a ways off, along the shore; torches. Though Honler forbid that they spoke until they reached the shore, Holden did not need to be told that it was a patrol. The crewman rowing the boat stopped it short of the land, as to keep it from getting beached. Honler got out of the boat, and exhaled sharply through his nose as he was waist-deep in the fridgid waters.

Following his example, Holden got off the boat. He was welcomed by the unpleasant sensation of the chilling sea caressing his lower body, unimpeded by his clothing. It filled into his boots, and soaked him to the bone. Were it not for the dire circumstances at hand, there were a few oaths that would have left his mouth. As Honler moved towards the shore with a sense of urgency, Holden too one more glance at the torchlight in the distance. The patrol was coming in their direction.

Grabbing his bow from the boat, he motioned for the crewman to shove off. It would do his mission little good if the patrol found any reason to be alarmed. Holden qcuikly waded through the water and hurried onto the shore. In the darkness of night, he barely made out Honler’s shadow lying in wait.

“We’ll wait for that patrol to come closer,” Honler whispered, “then we’ll take care of them quickly.” He kept his eyes on the flickering torches, as they grew ever closer. Notching an arrow, Holden drew his bowstring back. As the patrol came into range, he came to know why the Rnyrtians were seen as savages.

The patrol was barely clothed, lacked any real equipment -- spare their clubs and daggers -- and spoke in some gutteral language. Their tones at least suggested that they were at ease, and likely did not see Holden and Honler. There were only three of them, which meant that there would be not much of a fight if the patrol was ambushed. However, the risk of one fleeing to raise the alarms was ever present; certain death for Holden.

He observed each of the Rnyrtians, discerning the one that was the least exhausted. That would be his target. he waited until the patrol was only a dozen paces away before firing an arrow. It flew out of the darkness beneath the jungle canopy, and only made its presence known by landing in the neck of Holden’s target. Wasting no time, he readies and fires another arrow. This one narrowly misses another of the patrol, but it mattered little.

Honler’s charge onto the remaining patrol members during their confusion left them at his mercy. With a downward strike, he caught one Rnyrtian by the shoulder blade, and carved right through it. Holden’s next arrow catches the last Rnyrtian’s shoulder.

Honler ripped his blade free as Holden readied another arrow, and moved in to finish the last patrol member. With the Rnyritan still trying to recover from the impact of Holden’s arrow, Honler made short, brutal work of him. Aside from the constant, monstrous rumble of the ocean against the coastline, there was a thick silence that permeated the air. Dismissing the trio of the dead from his own attention, Holden kept watch over the coast for Honler. Once the patrol’s torches were doused, Honler returned to Holden.

“Are you alright?” he asked, using the leaves of the nearby brush to clean his blade. “I’ve seen my share of bloodshed, I know how it can be.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Holden, “it’s not the first time I have had to. besides, they would have killed us, if they had the opportunity.”

“Right.” Honler rubbed his chin for a moment, before he looked to where the patrol had approached from. We’ll follow their tracks, and perhaps it will lead us to a campsite. Unless you’d rather wait in hopes of another patrol.”

“That would do us little good.” Slinging his bow around his torso, Holden approached the patrol’s remains. They were dealt death by swift arrows and adept strikes. Looking up the coast from where the patrol came, Holden began to follow their tracks, as faint as they were in the sands. With Honler following not far behind, Holden kept vigilant of their surroundings. It was all too easy to imaging a band of warriors waiting in the forest, watching them closely for an opening.

The paranoia ate at Holden as the two walked along the shore, until he discerned something darker than the deep blue night skies; smoke. Without a warning, he dashed into the cover of the treeline. Honler barely hesitated before doing the same. Under the shroud of night and cover of the jungle, Holden moved in the direction of the smoke, with Honler close behind.

It was not long until the crackling of a campfire, along with a few voices were heard. Drawing his bow, Holden slowed his pace to a crawl. The warm glow of the flames shed itself on the surrounding trees, spare where the shadows of men had fallen. What Holden sawa  group of several Rnyrtians sitting by a campfire, with their weapons set aside. They were too enveloped in their own happenings to spot Holden.

“Holden,” Honler whispered, “there are too many to take on. You could do in one or two of them before they would be upon us.”

“We can’t leave them be; we’re to eradicate any Rnyrtians within the landing area.”

“Then tell me how you intend for us to take on so many at once?”

Holden looked over the campsite again. He could not argue with Honler’s years of experience. But, ignoring this camp would jeopardize the entire mission. He frowned, trying to come up with a solution. Then, it struck him. Readying an arrow, he fired before Honler could stop him. The arrow struck the fire, breaking the structure and scattering embers in all directions. The Rnyrtian men jumped in panic at the sight, spare one; he took a second arrow in the chest, and fell to the ground.

Honler took advantage of the confusion, charging in and catching one of the men in the neck with his blade. Holden released another arrow with a profound alacrity, catching another of the Rnyrtians square between the eyes. Within a matter of seconds, the group of enemies had been whittled down to only a few, who had the time to grab their weapons.

When Holden reached for another arrow, his hand only grabbed at the air; he depleted his arrow count. Part of him panicked when he drew Yusil, his father’s sword. He had no training in swordsmanship, yet he would have to put his life -- and Honler’s -- on the hope that he could hold his own in close combat. He ran into the campsite, slashing at one of the Rnyrtians. He must have caught the man off-guard, as he landed Yusil’s edge into the man’s side, the bare flesh seeming to split with ease. Holden’s victory was short lived, however.

“Behind!” Honler called out, before he kicked Holden in the side, causing him to fall to the ground. A club whipped through were Holden’s head had been, only missing by a hair. Running the Rnyrtian through with his sword, Honler pushed him off quickly after, and looked around the site. Holden got up and felt his side, which already felt sore. He did not say anything, however, favoring a kick to the side over a shattered skull.

“Well, you proved me wrong,” said Honler as he sheathed his sword. “We killed them all. And you had the foolish courage to charge into the battle, with as little experience as you had.” He knelt next to one of the bodies, and ripped one of Holden’s arrows free. “Gather them all. It’s not like this lot will be using them.” Honler handed the bloodied arrow to Holden, before he approached the dying campfire. He scattered the remaining wood with a kick, leaving Holden and himself in the dark once more.

Holden knelt down next to one of the Rnyrtians, the one he struck between the eyes. He placed one hand on the head, the other gripping his arrow’s shaft. With a hard pull, managed the free the arrow, but with a distinct snapping sound. Looking at the arrow, Holden frowned and tossed it aside. Without the arrowhead, it was dead weight. He stood up and approached the campfire’s remains, retrieving the arrow he used to create the chaos needed to claim victory. Fortunately it was still intact, if a little blackened.

“Is that all you have left?” Honler asked. When Holden nodded, he gestured to Holden’s sword, Yusil, which was still on the ground. “Then you’d better learn to use that sword, and quickly.”

Tales of Erelith: The Exile (Chapter 4, Part 2)

The sea occupied all of Holden’s senses when he reached the docks. It was exhilarating for him, as it promised freedom from the domain of any nation or their laws. There was a whole world out there, and now he set out to see it. A collection of ships were bustling with people; workers moving cargo, travelers coming and go, and crews preparing for their next voyage. It was near the end of the docks that Holden saw the Goliath. Dwarfing every other vessel in the port, it spared no expense in quality, with iron bands wrapped around the hull for additional reinforcement.

“What do you think?” Honler called from the deck. He waved to Holden, before motioning to the boarding ramp. “Come on up, the crew is ready and waiting.”

“What practical purpose does a boat this big serve?” Holden walked up the ramp, and onto the deck. As he looked over the other boats, the appeared small from his point of view.

“Aside from attaining invincibility on the battlefield and in the storms?” Honler grinned, and offered his hand. “I trust that I mustn’t reintroduce myself; do I, Holden?”

“I remember you, Sergeant,” Holden said, shaking Honler’s hand. “Do you do this kind of work often?”

Honler shook his head. “I’m usually only past our borders when it is the matter of an invasion. SPeaking of which, let me explain how this will work. Should we get killed, or find evidence of the elves taking refuge, the Sea Tigers Expeditionary Force will swarm the coast, and dig in until On’hino’s main forces arrive. That means we’re merely blowing the whistle, not being heroes. Understand?”

Holden nodded. “We’ll let the others do their jobs.”

“Good. Now, take one last look at Peronal,” Honler said. He gestured to the people hurrying about their own matters. “Given that we do not submit to lassitude, the whole place will be lined up with those celebrating us as heroes.” He chuckled and nudged Holden. “The real hard work will be reporting to debriefing before the lasses drag us off!”

Holden could not help but grin. “Is it that difficult?”

“Oh, no. It’s far more difficult. But, enough of that talk; the mission comes first.” Honler led Holden to the captain’s quarters, and knocked on the door. When an elderly yet muscular man opened the door, Honler was quick to salute. “Captain Thusk, sir!”

“If you pull pull this formal routine one more time Honler, I’ll tie you to the bottom of the ship.” Thusk shifted his weathered, brown eyes to Holden. “This is the scout?” When Holden nodded, Thusk gave a dismissive wave to Honler. “I’ll require privacy to orient this whelp.”

Holden stepped into the captain’s quarters, and looked around as Thusk shut and locked the door. Lining the walls on either side were shelves, each nearly filled to the brim with charts, documents and other information. Across the room was a window, which let in daylight to illuminate the darkness, as well as give an open view of the sea.

“What’s your name, and why shouldn’t I assume you’re dead when you step off my ship?” Thusk walked over to his desk in the center of the room, and sat down.

“Holden, sir, and don’t--”

“Wrong. When you step off my ship, you’re dead to me.  Means I won’t be coming to the rescue, should you wind up in trouble on land. Understand?” As Holden nodded, Thusk unrolled a map and beckoned Holden closer. “This is Rnyrt, home of savages, the Goddess of Storms, and Aradian sympathizers.” He placed his finger on the coastline. “The elves would land here, according to previous reports. Thusk then dragged his finger from the coast into the mainland of Rynrt. “They are likely resting in the capital, here, which makes this mission difficult.”

“How so?”

“While Rnyrt herself ignores the pleads of one or two of the tribes, all three tribes could pray for a storm to wipe out our fleet before the Expeditionary Forces reach land.”

“So how will we take the elves? Me and Honler can’t take them all on.”

“Damned right you can’t. At least you have some wit about you.” THusk moved his finger back to the coastline. “You’re going to scout and clear a landing for the resk of the Sea Tigers. Rnyrtians have never been great fighters, so you ought to clear out any patrols and such with ease. Think you can handle the welcome party for us?”

Holden nodded. “I’ll see it done, captain.” He could not refuse, even as he felt his stomach sink with the thought of killing even more.”

“Good. Now that the briefing is over with, tell me about yourself. Who recommended a sapling like you for a man’s job to Yerryn?”

“Well, Saul taught--” Holden jumped as Thusk slammed his hand on the table.

“Don’t lie, boy. Saul would have ripped your eyes out and fed them to the crows for speaking on his behalf.”

“I’m not lying! You can ask Yerryn herself.”

“That I will, but that will have to will until our mission is complete. The more time wasted in the docks, the smaller the chance we have of catching those knife-eared flower eaters.” Shouting from the deck was followed by the ship’s wood giving way to a long, low groan. It unnerved Holden, who went for the door, but Thusk remained calm. “Relax. Goliath always whines when it comes to setting sail. Never thought a boat could be lazy, did you?”

“I didn’t think of a lot of things, until just recently.” As the ship started to move, Holden took a seat across from the captain. There was a period of silence before Thusk’s eyes widened.

“You’re an Alnhart, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes--”

“Why didn’t I recognize that sooner? Damn my old age, going for the cheap spots. I won’t go weak in the arms, so it takes my vision from me!” Thusk bursted into a fit of laughter, most of which came out as wheezes. “I can see why Saul had enough confidence in you, then. You look just like your father, back in his youth.”

“How well did you know him?” Holden asked.

“Since him and I were but mites.” A more cordial Thusk looked over his shoulder, at the shrinking view of Perona. “Probably never mentioned me, eh? Figures, seeing as he left everything else behind him.”

“I’ve gathered that he was a skilled fighter.”

“Beyond skilled? If not for him, I would’ve been slain a dozen times over. How has he been? And Saul?”

“My father was not quite content about me coming to serve, much less so with my mother. Saul has been busy, to say the least.”

“You don’t have to tell me of what Saul is consumed with. He’s a good man, but trouble has always followed him.” Thusk rolled up the map of Rnyrt, and cleared his throat. “Well, if you’re just like your father, I doubt that this mission will pose too great of a danger. If you head out, find my First Mate. He’s a Siyerrodan fellow, you can’t miss him. If he’s not engrossed with managing the crew, he’ll direct you down to the sleeping quarters. Honler’s likely to already be curled up down there, or wretching whatever he scarfed down this morning. A goddess will kiss me before he can stomach the sea.” Giving Holden a dismissive wave, Thusk closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t forget to pick up some new attire. Your clothes will just get torn to shreds out there.”

“I won’t; thank you, Captain.” Getting up from his seat, Holden left Thusk to his own business, and opened the door. Stepping onto the deck, the wind lashed at his face, causing him to recoil in surprise, and shut his eyes. He had never felt anything quite like it in the mainland. Opening his eyes once again, Holden looked around the top deck, only to find that it was almost entirely vacant, spare a few of the crew moving supplies around, or maintaining the ship’s integrity. All around the boat was an endless expanse of blue, colliding with the grey skies on the horizon. Holden approached the rails, and looked on at the emptiness of the ocean.

“First time?”

Holden looked over to find of the crew; a Siyerrodan, as given away by his dark skin and shining, amber eyes. “Indeed,” replied Holden, “I’ve never been out to sea before.”

“Well, pray you never grow tired of it, else this career will only grant you misery.” The crewman grinned, and offered his hand. “Hrodgaier, First Mate of the Goliath. I see you’ve met our esteemed captain already.”

“Holden. He is definitely one of a kind.” Holden shook Hrodgaier’s hand, before returning to looking out at the sea.

“Don’t worry about him. He means well, but the things he has suffered have left him damaged. But, as long as he leaves the ship in my hands, you have nothing to worry about.” Hrodgaier clasps Holden’s shoulder, before looking out to sea. “You’re not one of those Okeluiso braggarts, are you? I can’t stand them; whiny and pretentious, the whole lot.”

Holden chuckled, and shoook his head. “I came from a small farm, near the village of Seban.”

Hrodgaier’s eyes widened. “Seban? My family lives there!”

“Really?”

“Aye.  It’s been forever since I last visited.” Hrodgaier lookd down at the water lapping against the side of the ship. “The Frost is nearly here, so I hope that they can manage the harvest.”

“I’m sure they will survive,” Holden said. “My family is one that has made it through the worst of it.”

“Right. Well, Holden, I should probably see to it that you’re prepared for Rnyrt.” Hrodgaier motioned for Holden to follow him, as he walked across the deck.

“Where is the entire crew?” asked Holden.

“Since the weather’s calm, and the Goliath is cooperating with us, most of the crew is probably relaxing until they are needed.” Hrodgaier stepped down an open hatch that led into the lower decks. As Holden followed, he paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust. The sound of the ocean was replaced by a chorus of snores, chatter and laughter. The crew was strewn about, with some lounging against supply sacks, others leaning against the wall or laying on the floor.

Hrodgaier pushed deeper, until he reached another hatch. He knelt down, and lifted the lock. Fishing in his pockets, he pulled out a key, and unlocked the hatch. Lifting it up, he dropped down into the pitch darkness of the ship. “Watch your step,” he called out, “it quite easy to break something here.”

Holden knelt down by the hatch, and carefully lowered himself down. The moment his boots hit the floor, the room was suddenly flooded with a gentle, blue glow. The light came from a small stone in Hrodgaier’s hand.

“These are a rare find, nowadays, since Tarlmisac is a barren wasteland.” He offered it to Holden. “Ever seen a moonstone?”

“I’ve heard of them, that only the richest of men come to own one.” Holden took the stone with care, and ran his finger over the smooth surface. It felt cool to the touch, as if he was dipping his fingers into a bowl of water. “How did you procure this?”

“Just my luck,” Hrodgaier said with a shrug. “We hit a pirate’s haven after it attacked one of our trade vessels. Captain Thusk gave it to me from the pirates’ stash, when we searched for survivors.” He opened a box, examining the contents before setting it in front of Holden. “Here you are; a scout’s uniform, made for the ruggedness of the wild, yet retaining the elegance of On’hino.” Hrodgaier smirked, before taking the moonstone back. “Get changed when you can. The Frost already hit Rnyrt, so the climate shouldn’t bother you as much as it would otherwise.”

“Thank you for the clothing, Hrodgaier. I just hope I can keep it intact when we reach Rnyrt.”

“Don’t worry about that. After all, you’ll have more pressing concerns, like staying alive, eh?” With a grin, Hrodgaier moved past Holden to look up the hatch. “We ought to repair the stairs here, this is tiresome.” He pushed a large crate underneath the hatch, and pulled himself back up. As Holden started to climb up, Hrodgaier reached and took the box of apparel from Holden, to give him freedom of both hands.

After Holden lifted himself out of the storage, he took his box from Hrodgaier once more. “What happened to the stairs?” he asked, as Hrodgaier shut and locked the hatch.

“Last time we set out at sea, a crew member of a particularly excessive weight was sent down here to bring up some rations for the outpost we stopped by.” Hrodgaier gestured to a giant of a man, who snored in tandem with the waves hitting the ship. “Took the stairs down with ‘im. They were due for replacement, anyways.”

“I see.” Holden wrapped an arm around the box, as his eyes wandered from the man to the rest of the crew. Though he had not noticed it before, they all seemed ready to fight at any given moment. They were clad in layers of studded leather, and their weapons were within an arm’s reach. “Are we expecting trouble at sea?”

“We shouldn’t, but given the recent pirate attacks and the aggressions by these Aradians, it doesn’t hurt to be ready to dip your blade in blood at any given moment.” As Hrodgaier made his way to the other end of the ship, he stopped midway at a hammock, and shook the crewman resting in it. “You were supposed to be on the top deck for departure,” he said to the crew member, “but you were nowhere to be found.”

“Sorry, Hrodgaier,” the crewman said with a lack of sincerity, “you know how I sleep like a rock…”

“And you’ll sink like one, to the bottom of the Abyss, should you sleep through your duties again. You’re taking over as sentry for tonight.” Leaving the crewman to his newfound discontent, Hrodgaier reached the hatch leading to the top deck, but moved past it. He approached a door barring off the rest of the deck, and motions for Holden to open it. “Your quarters with Honler. Should you need anything, let me know, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I will, Hrodgaier.” Holden reached out to shake Hrodgaier’s hand again. “Thanks for getting me situated, and for the equipment.”

Hrodgaier shook Holden’s hand with a grin. “You learn to make friends with whoever you can; any of them could be the difference between life and death.” He turned around, and left through the hatch to the top deck.

Holden opened the door to find Honler curled up in a hammock, his back to the door. “Are you alright?”

“Do you want me to say yes, or tell the truth?” With a groan, Honler shifted slightly. “Don’t be deceived. I love doing what I do, but the seas have never been kind to me, or my senses.”

“You’re a part of the naval military, yet you’re easily sea-sick?” Holden smirked, and set his box down next to the only other hammock in the room. “Luck does not like you, it seems.”

“I don’t usually grow too ill, just when I’m moving around the ship.” Honler turned to face Holden whilst remaining in his hammock. He was pale, and looked far worse than one would be from seasickness alone. “How was the meeting with Captain Thusk? He’s known for tearing recruits apart.”

“Is he?” Holden climbed into his hammock. “He merely briefed me on our assignment.”

“Strange,” Honler muttered, “but no matter. What did he say of the mission?”

“He told me how Rnyrtians can pray for a storm to swallow our ship,” Holden said.

“Well, that can’t be true, can it?”

“We live in a world, where men can conjure a firestorm from the tips of their fingers. I think a goddess answering her people’s pleas is well within reasonable means. Holden shut his eyes, and relaxed back in his hammock.

“Anything else?”

“We’re to clear out a landing for the expeditionary forces, so that the Rnyrtians won’t mar the chances of our success.”

“Well, you may want to write that down. The voyage is going to be a long, few days.” Honler reached down into his belongings -- which were set right under his hammock -- and tosses a small book to Holden.

Shuffling through the pages, Holden paused when he found them devoid of any markings; utterly blank. Sticking out the spine of the book was a needle-like piece of charcoal. As he began writing down the parameters of their mission, a thought crossed his mind. “Honler, why don’t we simply invade Rnyrt, and capture the elves?”

“Politics, Holden. If a nation as powerful as ours invaded Rnyrt, and the elves weren’t there, the rest of Erelith would form an alliance, overpower and subjugate our homeland. Such a disaster is contingent on whether our annexing is justified or not, else it will be the prelude to a long, blood and fruitless war.”

Holden closed the book, and set it on the box of apparel. “If we weren’t so powerful, then we could have simply invaded, then?”

“Well, most likely. You have heard of the minor provinces around Tarlmisac, yet? If you pay attention, you’ll see how they invade each other constantly, or try and claim Tarlmisac for themselves.” Honler paused, before breaking into a brief coughing spasm. When it passed, he cleared his throat. “Damned seasickness. It’s worse than death, at times. But, as I was saying; the major nations of Erelith care little for their antics, unless it is on their soil.”

“So, we’re on a balancing rope for the fate of our nation, because we are so powerful?”

“If your neighbor can take your land within the blink of an eye, I would think to have him stripped of such powers as one of your desires; if not claiming such power for yourself.”

“I see.” Holden curled up in the hammock, as things grew quiet. For the first time in a while, he was left alone with his thoughts. Up until now, his constant flow of tasks has kept him preoccupied, but -- much like when he was in the forest -- he was now left with plenty of time for his mind to wander. It would not have bothered him so much, if it was not for the thoughts in his mind being predominantly those of the battle he tasted, and the blood he was expected to shed. Sitting up, Holden reached for the book Honler gave him, and opened it. He would find a way to draw his mind from those gruesome thoughts, one way or another.

Dear mother and father,

I hope this letter finds you safe and sound, as I will be when my service is complete. Firstly, I apologize for not writing home sooner. Training with Saul was rigorous, to say the least, as he wanted me to be a  meritable marksman. I know that the Frost is nearly upon you at this time of the year, so know that you both are in my prayers. Right now, I’m aboard a ship, off to deal with a dispute far from our shores. Please, do not fear for my safety. Saul had some connections with my officer, who is ensuring my safety during this mission.

Holden casted a glance at Honler, who was fast asleep in his hammock. Hopefully, Holden would not end up in a situation that put his life in Honler’s hands. He shook his head, and continued writing.

While I wist that I could elaborate more on what happened, I fear that doing so will violate the agreement assuring my clandestinity. Father, I now know what darkness stains the heart of every man in battle. While the sun rises, I cannot feel the warmth nor see the gentle glow of its incandescence. With my innocence withered, and my virgin hands tainted with blood, I only now understand what you meant; ‘Nobody leaves the battlefield unmarked.’ While I am whole in body, my heart may never reclaim what Death stole from it.

As he looked at the letter, Holden thought of the battle that he survived only the night before. He thought of how his arrows struck the elves, and sent them to their demise. As remote as it was, he could not forget their faces, and how twisted in agony they were. Taking a deep breath, Holden dismissed the thought. He would have to learn to accept that killing was inevitable in his line of work. He returned to the letter.

As I write this, I am pondering on whether or not my taking of a life was a blessing, guised as a tragedy. I am a soldier. It was better to have myself exposed to battle as early as I was, else I may hesitate at the worst of times.

I will write again, when time permits. I wish the best for you both, and pray in turn for my wellbeing.

Hino’s Blessings,

Holden.