Whispers of the World

Independent Holsety RP Blog. Details to come.

[lightsguidingwind]

hushesofathunderingwind:

{☾} It would have been better if he could have managed to let someone know about this and the exact details, but there had been no time. The civilians knew, but Sety hadn’t been paying attention to how many people from the army had noticed. Eventually someone from either group would likely inform the more important people in the army, but he knew it was a blow to the army’s strength. The difference was, the army had done fine without him previously. If they managed that long without him, they could continue getting by without him.

For as strong as he acted about it, his body still tensed further against his will whenever the mages got too close or had their hands on him. Eventually he had told them to let go of him in a low, borderline hissing tone, their natural reply that they couldn’t risk him running off snapped back at with a heightened “where am I going to run to?”. It was at that point that they mildly backed off, taking in his point in full agreement that he wouldn’t get far if he tried to get away. It didn’t exactly help the tension, but Sety couldn’t have guaranteed to himself that he wouldn’t have reacted more violently if it had kept up.

The present ruler of the castle was skeptical of his men’s claims at first, believing something to be off that they would be able to get their hands on a major blood so easily. The “so easily” stung if nothing else, and Sety bit back commenting on it. The mages answers were that they didn’t know when asked if their target had the proof of his blood - the mark to prove it - and the words stung even more. That mark had been what led him to this, and why he wasn’t safe no matter where he was in the world. If they had found him off the battlefield, it would have been all the same. As much as he could by all means say that this power was precious to him, it was, in its own way, also a curse against him.

His jaw tensed with the rest of him when asked if he had that mark. If he lied and said no, they would just search for it, wouldn’t they? Instead he nodded, slowly, remnants of defiance still reaching his eyes. He was sure he had almost growled at them when asked to prove it, but he wasn’t about to let them look for it themselves when he’d already made such a fuss about being dragged around. He stilled for a moment, eventually pulling his cape off his shoulders and using his free hand to slide down the top of his shirt over his shoulder that covered the top part of the mark at the end of his neck. “…Is that enough?”

There was a silent, slightly aggravated sigh of relief as the men looked to their leader and confirmed it appeared to be the correct mark. Figured that they had actually done their research on those things to locate their targets easier. He said nothing as they discussed what to do with him, merely refitting his cape and eventually just looking elsewhere to occupy his sight with anything else, but he could tell their eyes were on him as his own strayed away from theirs. They seemed to settle on not dropping him in some dungeon, and while there was slight relief at that, it could have meant they had other plans.

Still, from what he understood, he would be kept in relatively good shape, and he gave little objection to being told he would be staying in a single room unless pulled out, which, unfortunately, they made sure to emphasize he would be pulled out eventually. Though they had left him for the time being in that room, door locked from the outside, he still couldn’t help feeling a sense of dread pushing at him. The best way to fake it was to retort whenever possible, right? As if things were normal. That was how he had to be. Though fear did not mean broken, they would be hard pressed to get him to show even that.

He was sure he wouldn’t find much to do stuck here, and he had been ready to let himself pass out before he noticed the window in the room. Of course they wouldn’t block it off… Even as a hostage, nobody would be dumb enough to try to get out through a window. Though in Sety’s case, if even part of it wasn’t blocked off, that worked for him. He moved to it, hands resting on the ledge as he noticed the above average speed of the wind. The least he could manage right now was to let him know what was going on… His body had moved practically on its own to open the window, his own element compelling his actions without even a thought needed.

‘I don’t know what’s reached you yet, but the Sect has me. At the moment, I’m safe. They won’t kill me as long as I have value to them. Don’t have anyone come after me for now. I’ll find out what they plan to do… and they won’t be getting anything out of me. The army won’t have my strength directly, so I’ll make it up this way. Leave me with them for now and I’ll do what I can. I don’t know what they plan to do with me yet, so I’ll try to be quick about it.’  {☽}

In response to Sety’s actions, the wind brushed against him and circled him, almost playfully. A gust escaped back through the window from behind, carrying his words with it.

The site of the army’s current struggle had not calmed down in the meantime, though now Holsety had made his way to a safer place, where he could direct and delegate more effectively as opposed to voicing each course of action himself on the front lines and allowing the information to spread from there. Strands of his hair were flapping in the wind as he listened for developments across the battlefield and worked them out systematically. He had to be decisive.

When Sety’s message finally found his ears, it came in front and center. Hearing the voice of his son speak in such blunt terms cracked his concentration. Speaking of his own value to the Lopt Sect, telling him to not come, to just leave him be and stand by for information… as useful as that would be, especially in light of the now very real possibility of an attack from behind, what had given rise to this?

In truth, he already knew.

No matter how uneasy the situation made him, he couldn’t turn the army around. Sety made a compelling argument despite his captivity. Even if it was off-putting, his level-headed thinking was exactly what everyone needed. His intuition was to be commended. Both of them had to move on, no matter how wrong it felt to just let this go.

Holsety would go with Sety’s plan, despite the discomfort that came with it. This was temporary. It’s necessary. It would be over soon. They would likely be communicating in the same way if he was in the same position they left him in.

He told the wind to let Sety know he was listening. Whatever Sety told it, it would find him. Any information would be valuable, especially if it was related to the battlefront directly. The wind carried a whisper that left his lips unconsciously. ‘Take care of yourself, Sety…’

[hushesofathunderingwind-blog]

{☾} They all knew Miletos was going to be bad, but was bad the word for this? The Lopt Sect had full control of the place, as if worse than Yied. Rather, this seemed like their new Yied. If it had been their stronghold before, this place was now. It made being left in charge of Chronos much more difficult, and even though they had saved the civilians from the earlier attackers, there had been no intel on Sect reinforcements. Sety couldn’t help the disappointment and aggravation that followed the lack of preparedness, and currently, the army was mostly scattered.

Normally, Sety would have had no problem fighting them off. He had been left to Chronos’ defense after several people who knew him well could tell he was feeling off and shouldn’t have been sent out for the scouting and cleaning up of the remaining scattered enemies, and at the time, he also believed that was best. Now, he wished they had agreed on someone who could presently handle the job better. He’d already been suffering heavier pains and aches since arriving in Miletos due to the dark mages that had been in Thracia, but the last heavy lot of them had been too much.

But this? This was too much. More of them than he could handle in this state. He didn’t have enough of the Liberation Army’s men for this, and he certainly couldn’t make up for that right now on his own. Granted, he had attempted to keep fighting, worn down as he was, until one of the foul mages had approached him, an injured - bruised and scraped everywhere - child in their arms, seemingly closer to the age of thirteen. He had considered attacking the man much more carefully to avoid the child, but that stopped when he was urged to surrender.

“Why… should I surrender?”

The mage was clearly noting his exhaustion and occasional wincing, but the smug change in his expression left the Silesian’s grimace turning to a softly appeared shock. “Trade places with him.” He gestured mildly to the boy who wildly shook his head. “We’ll stop this child hunt and let these people go if you take their place as a hostage against the Liberation Army.”

There was a pause, and after a few seconds he stiffened as he realize there were other dark mages with their attention on him. The way they were positioned, even if he were to fight the one in front of him and go for the ones diagonal at the same time, he would still be hit with at least two Fenrir users stationed in different areas of the mountain from behind. Even if he faked it and the kid was released, if one of these guys had Hel and he wasn’t aware soon enough, he would have been a lot more sorry for attacking than giving in.

His eyes narrowed on the mage. “…I don’t believe you. You would take a single person over all these so-called sacrifices?” The smug look directed at him became more of a smirk - a perfectly knowing smirk, and the calm demeanor he’d retained until then had been switched with a more genuine shock, a light expression of confusion filling his face. “…How did you find out who I am?”

As the man gained more confidence in his words, Sety could have sworn he sensed - felt - some of the others were lightly preparing their own magic if need be. If they knew who he was… they knew he was a legitimate threat. “There were rumors in Manster. People talking about someone who had the same name as the former Crusader Sety, whispers of a foreign prince with unusually powerful wind magic on his side; whispers claiming you were the one with that name and power who killed Lord Berdo some months ago. Strong as you were, we did have men watching; reporting. Our higher lords believe you’re better under our watch than actively as our enemy. If they play things out right, it would be better… to have your power on our side than against us. Besides, you’ve caused us a fair share of trouble. You can sum it up to saying that you’re worth more than those screaming kids as long as we even so much as have you. You’re also worth more alive than dead.”

It hurt to watch the growing child nearing his teen years. This kid was hardly younger than Fee… and part of him wouldn’t stop projecting the situation as if it was her instead. If it had been him in that situation as some helpless kid, wouldn’t he be scared too? Being in the body of a helpless child who saw the world through their own eyes fearing death…

This entire riot actually would stop then, wouldn’t it? He didn’t believe they would never go after these people again… but if they had time to run away and warn Celice of what happened, they would also have a better chance of surviving. No less a matter was that this was essentially what they were fighting for. To stop these things. Holding them off for any period of time could change the balance in this. Worse, if he still said no, he was only dooming all of these people and potentially himself at the same time anyway. While one could normally not blame a person for choosing themselves, he knew better than to think the others wouldn’t also give in for now.

After a pause that felt like more than five minutes - surely it wasn’t, or they would have spoken up by then for an answer - his voice lowered unintentionally as if in sync with the hand that gripped his opposite arm in hopes of settling down the trembling he now had to try to control. “If you’re saying getting me out of this instead of them is acceptable… fine. I’m not making any promises until you all lower your casting hands and stop attacking the Liberation Army.” He waited, but they seemed to be doing just that. He couldn’t help how much it bothered him how serious they were; how much value had been put on him that they would rather have him than another infamously bloody child hunt. Just another reason to lament having too much power…

After giving it a bit of time, he removed his Lightning tome and let it drop from his hand, kicking it away from himself. “That’s dangerous to you, right? Would you prefer I drop everything?” A moment’s hesitation, the mage seeming to calculate if he was feigning it and planned something involving him somehow having enough comrades to back himself and attack, but he eventually slowly nodded. “The kid first. I’ll drop the rest when he’s far enough away from you.” Despite the mage doing so after waiting a couple seconds, Sety also hesitated, both of them quite clearly distrusting as neither had taken their eyes off the other as he tossed his Recover staff, perfectly aimed the Elwind tome to carefully land on the Lightning tome out of peripheral vision, then dropped the Holsety tome behind him. “Is this enough?”

A slight nod as the mage thought out an answer. “I suppose it should be sufficient. Step away from the equipment and move to the nearest group of our men.”

He tensed much worse this time, and it took longer for him to react than he would have preferred. While he did wish to have some level of caution, there was quite a line right now between caution and anxiety. Between caution and fear. He had never been that close to them before, much less willingly, and even more less so to a group of them. It was almost relieving when he’d managed to force himself to move, nothing but utter willpower and pushing it all out of his mind helping him with this.

Eventually the lot of them seemed satisfied, and the one who had been previously holding the boy followed after Sety, stopping in front of the group and holding up a Hel tome, the disgust Sety receiving from his sickening grin leaving uncomfortable knots in his stomach that caused him to involuntarily back up into one of the other mages who held him in place just below his shoulders. (It bothered him. Too close to his shoulders. Shoulders were too close to the mark on his skin that made up much of his pride.) “Being a hostage isn’t all you’re doing. While it’s too late to decide otherwise, I don’t think you would change your mind anyway. You’re… strong, right?”

A sharper look mixed itself in with a nearly emotionless and dead look in the prince’s eyes, but they met evenly with his captor’s. “We’ll see which one breaks first. Me or that tome.” {☽}

[lightsguidingwind]

What citizens and refugees had been rescued upon the capturing of Chronos were not worthy of celebration. It was the beginning of a far longer march deeper into Miletos, and deeper into the land that had become known for the Lopt Sect’s atrocities in far greater numbers. All the faces, all those children that had escaped their captors, all those civilians who felt even a bit safer leaving their homes were only a fraction of Miletos’ population, and on that sour note, no one could celebrate until the republic had been liberated and the Sect had been driven out.

There was no time to rest, and with Sety leading the defense at Chronos, the army could proceed further with reduced fear of an attack from behind. Still, the army was in a bit of a sorry state- many of their plans had to be rethought and thrown out, and the army was becoming more scattered. They would have to come together eventually, but there was no time to stop with Grandbell itself so near and time to reach it became ever scarcer. The bulk of the army had to press forward, and with Sety’s fatigue becoming more obvious, it was good to leave him off the front lines. Or at least, that’s what most people thought.

They had to keep pressing forward, though in the chaos Holsety himself had to become more engaged and make sure orders were relayed properly, with new information coming in all the time. The sect and the empire knew this area far better than they did, and dark mages had many uses for their powers of teleportation and access to various staves… more than ever before, everyone had to be engaged to keep up with the pace of the rapidly changing field.

It was only when a great gust of wind blew across the open battlefield that Holsety stopped, his thoughts violently interrupted.

Holsety held himself to the responsibility of watching the army’s back as well, as with the wind at his beck and call. It filled his senses with something foul, like blood and smoke, though the air had come from behind the army with a message. He could hear a series of voices, Sety’s voice among them, ring in his ears…

“We’ll stop this child hunt and let these people go if you take their place as a hostage against the Liberation Army…”

“We’ll see which one breaks first. Me or that tome…”

Had Sety been targeted specifically? While he had his worries about the boy, he had more than proven himself on and off the battlefield as capable. With a small collection of men left with him, he figured no one would be foolish enough to challenge him as they pushed onto Rados.

He gripped his sleeve tightly with his opposite hand.

Had he let Sety’s confidence cloud his judgement? Or just gone with an obvious idea for defense in the wake of their rush to Grandbell? He shook his head. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter, although he could already feel it nagging at him. He knew what dark magic was capable of. He knew that they could be attacked from any place at any time.

Perhaps, if anything, it was better it had happened to someone who could handle himself… Someone who could still keep in contact with the army, whether he knew it or not.

Holsety gave the surrounding soldiers the order to act without his guidance, following their current plans and precautions. “New information has come to light” he explained, “and must be seen to immediately.” If it was nothing that would last, he would be back soon. If it needed further attention, orders would follow…

He summoned the wind to him as he walked away from the immediate chaos. Now he could listen… and when he knew Sety could hear, call his name… Though the picture that was painted for him made his steps hasten.

[lightsguidingwind]

A Moment of Meaning

[lightsguidingwind]

hushesofathunderingwind:

{☾} He was silent first, only staring back for a few more seconds before slowly looking back toward the map. It had been a long time since he was even able to do that. Before now, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to; simply that he couldn’t. Most times he’d had to fight on his own and had nothing to fall back on. Unfortunately, that was catching up to his body. There were still times he felt delayed aches settling in when he finally did have time to rest.

“The fliers can send any messages from the people familiar with the areas. I was with Prince Leaf’s army for a short time before I returned to Manster, so we’ll have to split the intelligence up between the four of us.” It still confused him as to why many didn’t stick around, but he wouldn’t bother questioning it. The wars were still going on, yet they had all gone elsewhere for whatever their reasons for. The ones from Fiana he could scratch off since they were supposedly still fighting in their own area, but most others? They needed all the capable fighters they could get…

Granted, many of them were probably not out for as long as he was. He had likely seen more than most of them combined. It wasn’t the odd occasion that he found himself sneaking around and infiltrating. Information had been part of what he’d been doing, and it had helped Leaf out plenty. Still, what he’d been doing was dangerous, and he was luck to even be alive, or at least not stuck in an enemy dungeon.

Being around an army again was an odd feeling, and it had been brief last time. He had no doubt he would be in this one longer than that, and he wasn’t sure how well he would operate in this kind of setting. His work was better done alone, and he had little doubt that was how he would work to help the army in the end anyway. Celice would probably worry about that, and Leaf even might as well… but not only did he have destructive magic, but he wasn’t sure how well he could deal with other people. Not that he didn’t like them, but it always seemed his social skills were… sub par.

“But there is one thing you’re wrong about. There won’t be any ‘demise’ for us. The only demise will be that of the savages who invade someone else’s home to take it for themselves. Make innocents starve and say if they have to starve that innocents do as well. If our formation is broken somehow, as long as this army has me here, they won’t be in the sky for very long. Make no mistake, they’re every bit my enemy as they are Prince Leaf’s by this point. If they think they rule the skies with their treachery, they need to be taught by a country that really knows the skies.” {☽}

Holsety’s expression hardened as Sety began to speak more vigorously. The vitriol in his voice was surprising to his ears, and made him worry.

“They are our enemy.” Holsety corrected. “They serve the empire. They stand in our way, and they leave their own country with scraps to further their ambition and war plans. You are part of this army, as is Lord Leaf. The desire to upturn the Thracian army is shared by those around you. This is no longer a battle that only you have to fight.”

He placed his hand softly on the shoulder of Sety’s bad arm to remind him.

“I expect you to rest tonight, and control yourself.” He said sternly, his voice now lower and quieter. “You have to take care of yourself. I don’t care how long you’ve been going alone, you’re with us now. The way you’re talking, you sound as if you want to take on Thracia yourself. There will be no demise for us as long as we move quickly, but with the big picture in mind. This means knowing when to rest.”

[lightsguidingwind]

It always felt like a wall between them when Levin would keep his back to his own son. He wasn't interested in this father business... but Sety had only been partly able to accept that. Arms wrapped around the other's torso with the man's back still turned to him, head resting against him just for that moment. "I know you don't want to act like family or act close... but at least let me stay near you. You at least cared when I was younger. You're... still my father, before anything else."

He still called him father, after all that had happened…

Sety couldn’t possibly know Holsety’s true nature, therefore how could he possibly call him father? How could Holsety accept the title, having deceived the child so? What of all the pain he had caused? It was cruel to lead the boy on like this when he knew he would eventually leave him for good. Yet in spite of the centuries behind him telling him to forego such attachments, he could not find it in himself to definitively tell the boy to leave.Selfish as it may be, Holsety liked these sensations. He enjoyed the soft pressure of the human hands that held him, and the warmth he felt on his back. In truth, Holsety longed for these moments as well.

“I… don’t mind so much today.” He eventually said, still looking ahead. “I know you work very hard, Sety. If you can rest easier with me near you… So be it.”Holsety gently held Sety’s hands with one of his own. With a gentle squeeze, he invited his son to stay a little longer.

[lordofthewindsong]

Backseat Driving

[lightsguidingwind]

lordofthewindsong:

It took a long moment before Levin was ready to move again, still confused and agitated by the strange situation he was in. Eventually, though, confusion and curiosity got the better of him – he had to look again, had to; there was a divide between the world he saw now, and the world he saw against the tree, a divide he didn’t understand. Perhaps, if he did, he’d be able to understand what happened to him.

Nothing had changed. He was still sitting under the same tree, and he took a moment to take in the view before it came to his attention that his body was moving, seemingly of its own accord. Not that Levin wasn’t used to such sensations – but, usually when they happened, he was never so aware that it was happening. It would happen when his mind was in a fog, when his brain couldn’t think but his body could act, and when the fog finally cleared he’d have lost hours of time and couldn’t quite remember when he’d last eaten, or what he’d just been talking about. Now, he was almost hyperaware of his body’s movements, of his hand tracing down his chest and clenching into a fist unbidden by any desire of his own. He tried to force himself still, and almost paradoxically he watched as his body continued to move, while he couldn’t feel himself moving.

And then he tore himself away, feeling almost ill. Was he no longer in control of his own body? What happened to him, in that time between losing consciousness and waking here? …Didn’t he die? Just the thought of such dark magic caused his chest to tighten, his breathing to sharpen and quicken, and his body to start shaking.

At first, in his panicked state, he failed to register the new presence beside him, too intent on questioning what had happened to him, what was happening to his body, why was he here, where was here-

But, at the hand on his back, he stopped – he shuddered – and, slowly, the tension and anxiety bled out of him, and his breathing calmed. Still, while the initial panic was over, his presence almost seemed to shrink under the being’s hand; his eyes stared ahead, blankly, mystified.

“Wh…?”

He couldn’t even force himself past the beginnings of his question – perhaps a what, or a who; maybe even a where! Any sort of answer would be acceptable, at the moment, if only to temporarily soothe him.

Holsety felt Levin’s muscles relax beneath his hand as his body understood what his mind had yet to fully comprehend. Levin’s thoughts were now Holsety’s as well, and his questions and confusions poured into him, the disorientation skewing his own perception briefly. This mess of thought was expected. After all, there were senses and levels of existence at work here that humans simply weren’t equipped to understand.

He crouched down before Levin and looked down at him. Though this form’s face was somewhat difficult to nail down, more an average of faces that had come before than a face all its own, the eyes were clearer and sharper than any humans’ could ever be. They were alive with knowledge and moved with analytic intent. At the moment, they were focused squarely on Levin’s own eyes. He could almost feel Holsety’s gaze shooting through him like concentrated beams of light, but with them came a feeling that gently cradled him, and held him aloft within the void.

“You are within your own body still” came a voice that echoed in Levin’s ears. It was like nothing he had ever heard before, yet strangely it sounded familiar, as if it could have come from Levin’s own mouth. “You exist on another level, still attached to your form, but severed from your former reality due to the fatal wounds you sustained.”

“Do you not recognize this power?” He continued. “All around you is the power you accepted when you took the book of Holsety into your hands. You are here because of your unyielding, undying desire to guide the world of Jugdral like the wind itself; sometimes subtle, sometimes grand, yet ever moving, ever flowing forward towards the light. This is the fate that you accepted along with that power, and we will not rest as long as our mission remains unfulfilled.” The figure gingerly reached forward and placed his fingertips on Levin’s own.

“I heard your call, and I saw you reach out to me in those final moments.” His tone did not change, but there was a warm intent behind it that he shared with Levin’s mind. “We have met before, and we have spoken to one another.”

He wrapped his hand around Levin’s, and gently squeezed it.

“You know me, as I know you. We will walk again, and keep this world on the path to recovery.”

[lightsguidingwind]

A Moment of Meaning

[lightsguidingwind]

hushesofathunderingwind:

{☾} Hesitation was first, but he slowly moved into the room and stopped at the table where the map rested. Good… He was about to ask if there was a map of Manster in particular present. He knew Leaf had been involved with this army for some time now, so they must have had a clear enough idea of the country’s situation. If anything, this country had it worse off than any of the others with how many armies were in and out of it. It was only lucky that some of its worse threats were cleared out in the previous war. The fact that there was plenty of threat left after that only further the idea that Manster was worst off.

“They don’t need me out there right now, but it’s good they don’t. I’ve used too much magic for too long… My arms are too stiff for me to remain out there much longer.” His eyes narrowed on the map, looking toward the easternmost areas. They were unlucky with how long this battle seemed to be prolonging. Not only were the soldiers going to get exhausted, but it was around now geographically that they would need everyone in top form. As it was, the area they would be passing through was extremely narrow.

“Cavalry will have a tough time getting far after we leave Manster… Do you prefer the cavalry or infantry units up front by majority? If it’s cavalry in the back, we can keep Prince Lester toward the back to get rid of any Dragon Knights that try to attack us from behind since he’ll be slowed anyway with the rest of the cavalry units. Faval should be fine up front with the rest of the infantry, and we’ll need someone who might be able to learn how to use a ballista anyway if we can get him there quick enough. Johalva is also trained in bows, correct? He should stay toward the middle front so it’s not just our front and back covered. Prince Leaf should be toward the back regardless since he’s the main target, and I know he’s proficient in bows. If we have him that far back, Fin should at least be toward the middle back, and I’ll stay toward the middle front so each section has people familiar with the location.”

They would at least need fighters ready at all times to deal with sudden attacks then and there, and the cavalry would have the toughest time getting into battle formation in such a ridiculously cramped area. The infantry would at least be able to make use of the mountains, but once the battles started, with so many horses around, they would be more or less stuck fighting in place. It wouldn’t be until the battle ended that the units would be able to move around again to regroup, which meant fighting with whatever they had at the time of the attack. Even for people who knew Manster well enough, it was dangerous to move an army down that path, much as it was the only path.

The open area they had immediately after departing Manster would be mostly fine, but Manster was right at the border. It was not only the most dangerous place in terms of them leaving the country and heading into absolute enemy territory, but the location was the worst fit for a war at any border. “Basically, you’re going to need to choose a formation and settle with it. There won’t be any changing things around once we start moving.” But how many squads were left over? Trabant couldn’t possibly have been so ridiculous as to keep sending squad after squad into Manster when he could simply wait until they were within Thracian borders - especially not with Thracia consistently losing men.

“Once we leave Manster, it’s nothing but disadvantage for us from then on. Here…” He pointed just below the remaining open area after Manster, then moving his finger down to the next open location. “To right here. It’s not just narrow - it moves diagonally downward and is also a slight curve. The worst of it is right at the end, and from there on we’re in Thracian territory, where none of us will any longer be familiar with the immediate area.” No matter how long Leaf had been in Thracia, if he had no knowledge on the area, keeping him to the front sounded like an awful idea. Not only would he be the first targeted, but the idea of having him so close to the front of the army in that country left Sety feeling uneasy.

“If you can find a way for us to make use of the mountains and not be so disadvantaged, I’ll leave that to you. I’ve only just been counted among these ranks, so I don’t know the ins and outs of this army or enough of the people to make definite strategies.” {☽}

His arm… Holsety thought to himself as Sety mentioned it. As Sety continued to outline his thoughts and turn his attention to the map before him, he couldn’t help but glance at his arm from behind. He suppressed a tingle in his arm, a desire to reach out and touch him. Of course… that would explain why he had been favoring one arm over the other, and why he was able to take this much time off the front lines… It was out of character for him to leave when the battle had not yet been fully won…

A reminder that this boy, this child, was still human.

He closed his eyes gently as he returned his attention to the map. He had still caught every bit of Sety’s explanation. It was impressive how much Sety knew about their comrades already. Sety had been traveling around the continent as well, of course, but as far as he knew, this was the first time they had fought together with him as the liberation army. He rose some very good points.

“Hmm… Having individual squads lead by ones who know the area, or at least advised by them, is very smart. I recall that Prince Leaf’s forces have likewise been down this route in the past.” Whatever intelligence we have on the terrain may prove to be our most valuable asset.” What he had heard from August’s travels with the boy was not sufficient for their current plans. What knowledge he had gleaned of Leaf’s travels during the previous year would be far better presented from the mouths of Leaf and his compatriots themselves, perhaps with some prompting to evade questions regarding his amount of knowledge on the subject. “While many of the people that made up that army have scattered since, they may have insight into the surrounding area that yet remains untapped. We should receive their input as well.”

“The longer we take to get from one place to another, the more resources we will use in the process, and the more time we will give our enemies to plan our demise. Anticipating the movements of our enemy is likely the best weapon we will have.  They will likely have several ambushes planned along the path, and attempt to herd us into them. Sending forth effective scouts may truly win us the day, as well as effective communication between forces, primarily between fliers and ground troops. I shall be listening carefully for further intelligence reports myself.”

“The uneven, barren terrain will be rough on our cavalry, and provide little nourishment, if any. For the health of our men and their horses, cavalry should remain towards the back, with our infantry leading the charge. Our archers and magic users will be key in this conflict, and our fliers must continue to fight proactively even as our other mounted forces take the rear.” “And you…” He trailed off. He exhaled through his nose.

He turned his head slightly, to look Sety in the eye. “You will rest after we conclude here.” He said, sternly. “I want you to stay off the battlefield until we march for Mease. Your health will be critical for our success, and you must recover.”

[lightsguidingwind]

A Moment of Meaning

[lightsguidingwind]

hushesofathunderingwind:

{☾} It was hard to fall back when on his own, but that was possible now. Things couldn’t simply be left as they were and without his support, but with an entire army here now, he could leave things to them if he needed to pull back. All the fighting he had been involved in prior had kept him from being at his best for days now, and having an entire army here to back him up would give him enough time to rest and restore his energy. Something along the way, he must have pulled a muscle in his arms, one more so than the other, and there was a line of sharpness within them depending on how he moved them.

Not that he would go back and sit there doing nothing. The battles required all the help they could get, what with the Thracians attacking and the remnants of Blume’s soldiers trying to take advantage of the battle and bandits taking advantage of all of it. The recent battles had to have been the most chaotic he could remember in a long while - the only other recent one in memory involving the battle against three armies at once and just him in a single area. It had been a detail most people didn’t know, and even fewer of them remained fighting presently in this army now.

For now, the best thing he could do was report back. The thought only came to him after he’d gotten himself somewhere safe and away form the fighting, but it stopped much faster than that. If he reported back, he would have had to tell the tactician, which meant… well, something he wasn’t sure he was ready for. They had hardly even made eye contact since the last conversation that hadn’t ended well at all, and it would take at least minor effort not to seem awkward or avoidant if he had to speak to him.

Well… as long as he wasn’t turned down immediately, the man would realize why he was there. Sety had realized personal topics were not going to budge between them, and if nothing else, it would likely only cause more distance. For years, the Silesian King had been in and out of the country, but there had never been such negative emotional distance. Sety had always known him to be a bit distant, but the way that last conversation had gone had been confusing and shocking. As long as that didn’t get in the way of report attempts, then Sety could at least be nearby, right? If it was for the army and nothing personal, he wouldn’t be turned away, right? …But then, he supposed, that in itself was actually motivated by personal thoughts.

Finally stopping at the door to the room, he waited a bit before knocking. Granted, things wouldn’t be perfect, and not right away by any means, which hopefully Levin understood. If there was a bit of awkwardness lying around in Sety, hopefully he would understand that. Whether Levin was aware of his presence behind the door or not, he finally silently let go of a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding and knocked, waiting for acknowledgement and permission to enter, taking at least another second before entering.

“The battle is starting to settle down, but it’s ongoing. The victory will be ours if no reinforcements show up, and it’s only still going because Thracia’s men are as stubborn as they are and will fight to their deaths. We suffered around twenty fatalities and around ten severely injured up to now. For an army at large, those numbers are hardly worth mentioning… but for an army this small and composed of odd groups here and there, it’s going to damage us even still, and even if looked at as twenty less people to feed. Once we completely leave Manster, the road to Mease will be dangerous for any non-fliers. We’re guaranteed to lose more men on the way with how narrow that road is, and it’s surrounded by mountains. The layout is perfect for the enemy to attack, and causalities until we reach that road need to be severely minimized. Even for fliers, it will be dangerous, as Thracia also has men who know how to use ballistae.” {☽}

There was a knock at the door. He stopped writing with an audible scratch.

He knew who it was. Indeed, he knew who it was the moment he heard footsteps outside the room. There was trepidation in those steps, a far cry from the brave young man he had seen on the battlefield, and the man who had voiced those emotionally-charged grievances only days earlier. Perhaps that moment weighed heavily in Sety’s stomach as well.

With the battle dying down it was an ideal time to plan for what was coming ahead. Sety’s presence would be a boon here, doubtless. The boy was strong, he knew what he was doing, and he had come so far in his mastery of magic. He had been fighting here for many months, and undoubtedly knew the area better than most. What’s more, Sety was very intelligent. Regardless of whatever emotions the boy might still feel, Holsety knew he would have something to add. Whether or not Sety was ready to meet again was irrelevant. They had to meet.

“You may come in.”

The boy launched into his report almost immediately. For the better, he thought, as this way they could keep their focus on the army at large. Holsety tilted his head forward and watched Sety’s face intently as he spoke. His gaze was sharp, his face still as stone. Now and then he would close his eyes and nod to himself as he carefully turned over Sety’s words in his head, filing away possibilities for later.

One part of the report stood out to him. Less mouths to feed… His eyes narrowed slightly. What a terrible thought. The army’s food stocks were there to feed people, regardless of how meager they may be. The fact that Sety saw fit to include this aside bothered him somewhat… Did Sety think this would please him in the face of their fallen comrades? That he truly was so uncaring?

He shoved that thought aside. It was unrelated to the task at hand.

“You’ve done a fine job.” He finally said, remaining neutral as ever. “You are clearly vigilant… Yet your information is out of date.” “Our army’s intelligence has just reported incoming enemy reinforcements from the south. At least two squads of Thracian wyvern riders are flying over the mountains even as we speak. Bearing your information in mind as well, we can assume they were dispatched to engage us as we left Manster and made our way towards the mountain path, catching us unaware to add to their already strong advantage. They may have further planned to seize Manster in its weakened state after we left. Regardless of the outcome, such an ambush would leave us weaker as we headed towards Mease...” Holsety turned to the side and stood next to his seat at the desk. A map of Manster and the surrounding areas was spread neatly across it.

“Come here,” he said. It wasn’t quite a command, but it certainly wasn’t a request. "We are fortunate to have this lull in the battle, where neither of us need to be on the front lines. It would be in our best interest to prepare for the incoming attack here in Manster.” He beckoned his son into the room, noting that he had barely entered past the doorframe. His face gave no hints. “It would be wise to plan together. Your knowledge of the area would help us greatly, Sety.”

[lordofthewindsong]

Backseat Driving

The pain was overwhelming.

In his final moments, that was all Levin had in him to process. Pain, and guilt, and tiny flashes of memories, of his home and the people he loved. He’d gone into this battle expecting to do at least some damage, to do something useful. Barring that, he’d hoped to at least die on his feet, and fighting to his last. Ultimately, he’d accomplished neither.

What a way to go down, huh? Sobbing in a pool of his own blood, barely able to even cry out as another blast of dark magic coursed through his veins? Surely, by now, he’d taken in far more than any human should be able to withstand; he felt almost certain that the man he was facing was merely trying to prolong his suffering. Terrified as he was of dying, ashamed as he was that he’d be breaking his promises to return home, all he wanted right now was for it to be over.

It was then that he felt it. Something in the distance resonated with a power like his blood, and he was vaguely aware when he stopped being hit with more dark magic. The presence rushed in with the wind, but his vision was fading far too fast to make out much, if anything, about it.

Still, with the last of his strength, Levin reached toward it, fingers barely able to lift past grazing the floor. Something told him that, if he could hang on just a little longer, he’d be safe, that whatever it was that he was seeing could help him - but the blackness at the edge of his vision was overwhelming, and, as hard as he tried to hold on, the world slipped away into darkness…

And then, surprisingly, he woke up.

At first, he didn’t even dare move. While the pain may have ebbed, he still expected it, and the ghost of it lingered on in his memory even after he’d realized it was gone. Besides, it was so much easier, comfortable, for him to remain curled up in some sort of pathetic ball, face buried away from the world.

When he finally peeked out, he realized something very odd.

He could… see himself. Almost as if looking through his own eyes, as usual, except this version of him was sitting, back resting against a tree. Hard as he tried, though, he could not feel the tree; when he pulled his concentration away from what he was seeing, he was still curled into a ball, in a space he couldn’t quite describe, that he wasn’t sure he’d seen before. All in all, it felt very odd, and Levin didn’t quite know what to make of it when the last thing he remembered was dying.

[lightsguidingwind]

The Levin that sat against the tree began to move and twitch as long unused muscles remembered their purpose.  He opened his mouth wide, and took a slow, deep breath. Warmth filled his lungs and flowed through his veins, all the way to his cold blue fingers.

His head arched back slightly as his eyes opened and came to life. After he adjusted to the sudden burst of light and color, he found himself observing his own hands. They were long, and dexterous… and to the eyes that saw them, almost alien.  He had not remembered hands like this feeling so heavy, so brittle… but then again the forms he had assumed before had never truly been human.

Shakily, he placed a hand on his chest. He lay it flat, and traced down to the middle of his torso. Beneath the loose tunic he wore, he could feel bumps and crevices, patches of scarred tissue that had never fully healed. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. A shame… but it would have to do. It was time to act for the sake of this land, and its people. His hand tightened into a fist. He felt his skin pulse underneath his fingers, as his heart began to pump blood once more.

Within the limbo state where Levin’s consciousness floated, a second presence graced the edge of his understanding, like a gentle breeze.  The presence felt Levin’s thoughts stir to life, somewhere deep within his body, and sought to greet him.

To tell him he was not alone.

Don’t be afraid, he wanted to say. I am here for you. He knew, however, that that Levin was extremely fragile. He had seen death, and the sorrows and regrets of the time were likely still fresh to him. The words lay heavily on his mind, unable to convey what he wished to truly say.

So instead, within this space, a figure silently appeared next to Levin. Whatever it looked like, all that was sure was that he looked very similar to Levin himself, even if the exact features he bore didn’t seem to register entirely.

The figure knelt down. He gently laid a hand on Levin’s back. Their spirits called to one another.

Holsety hoped that Levin would recognize the resonance in this state. After all, it had only been a short time since they had last met.

[lightsguidingwind]

A Moment of Meaning

Before he knew it, they were in Manster. The army’s tactician, a man they called Levin, sat alone in a hastily cleared out room on the city’s outskirts. It had already gotten late, and it was only now the tactician realized he needed to light a nearby oil lamp to see what was right in front of him. People spoke about the days getting longer all around him. Yet to the eye of a dragon, they were just as fast as they always were…

Holsety was not beyond fatigue, nor was the body he occupied. The days blended together, creating a quickly moving mass of tension and fluctuating emotions that whirled all around him. Every time he thought he got used to the pace, he would find himself in another part of the continent, a new set of problems on his hands… Most were not his concern, but they weighed heavily on him anyway. He had started to value the times where he could gather himself, so he may face his comrades with the attention and dignity they deserved. Holsety preferred to be alone while preparing his plans. They would be brought to the attention of the army at large during the next briefing. For now, he was left to explore details and possibilities alone. By himself, he finally had time to gather his thoughts and focus on what was directly in front of him, as if whatever room or tent he occupied was his own bubble of time. With no one around, he could close his eyes and open his other senses. He could calmly listen as the wind blew through the window and whispered in his ear. The wind had blown through Manster’s grassy plains, around clusters of trees, up and into the mountain range, and through the skies. He caught a whiff of iron in the air.  He felt the beating of hundreds of wyvern wings as they created gusts and disturbances in the air above the mountains. The shouts of mounted Thracian soldiers and the sounds of signal horns were caught in the current. Their trajectory was clear, and that was all he needed to know for now.

The liberation army had made its way to Manster just as the first wave of them clashed with the newly liberated Manster’s own forces. Such a small force was able to hold their own remarkably well. Truly, however, he knew the real source. He could feel it from miles away. In his mind’s eye he could see the windstorms conjured by the hand of Levin’s son, created from his own borrowed power. He was proud of the child, truly. Yet when he caught a glimpse of him, a strange mixture of feelings welled up in his stomach, a far cry from the calm pride he had anticipated. He felt his face grow hard as a collection of sensations began to flood his thinking without warning. Sety… He began to quickly jot down notes, his large handwriting calling for more pages than average. Thracia’s forces were approaching in greater numbers than before. Manster couldn’t do it alone, no matter what. Still, that moment repeated in his head, over and over again. It puzzled him. He overwrote those feelings with battle plans and observations. This had to wait. Until when... he didn’t know.

[lightsguidingwind]

((The blog will soon be open!

The blog is still under construction. I’ll continue working on it as I begin to RP. But I’d rather get to the fun part first))