Duty. Honor. Country.

[thepilgrimofwar]

Duty Calls

Lady Emberheart followed the gravel path up to a flower wreathed cottage. Behind her followed a retinue of Illithian honour guards who had insisted on being her escort, even though she needed none.

Her name was Relriah Illithia. Mother of Lord Stenden Emberheart. Dutiful wife to Soldenis Emberheart. A docile thing who became vengeance incarnate during the Emberglades Civil War: The Lady in Red, who marched an army into Westheath to slay her traitorous father who had the gall to threaten the lives of her family. Now she ruled there in his stead, still trying to right his wrongs, even now, 8 years after she had slit his throat.

She knocked on the door to the cottage which was promptly answered a girl who immediately began gawking at her.

"Greetings," said Relriah, turning back and shooing away her honour guards, gesturing for them to remain in the garden. "You must be Marisen."

Marisen fidgetted as her nerves got the better of her. "L-Lady Emberheart!" She yelped and attempted to curtsey, only to realise that she wasn't in skirts but a pair of boyish trousers. The young adolescent swapped to a bow for a split second before swapping back to the curtsey, pinching the air as if there were a hem to an invisible skirt around her. "You honor us with your presence my- my- uh-"

Relriah smiled, leaning down to meet her eye-to-eye. "Don't worry, I don't fuss about titles. Where is your father, little Everburn?" She asked.

"He'll be right with you!" Marisen squeaked before darting back into the cottage, thumping across the floorboards as she went. "Ann'daaaaaaaaa! Our leige is at the door!"

---

Kassivir, roused from a nap by the sounds of hurried footsteps and incoherent yelling, opened his eyes just in time to see the door to his bedroom swing wide open.

"Ann'da!" Marisen cried out as she heaved between laboured breaths as crossed the room. "Lady. Emberheart. At. The door."

Her father stretched lazily and checked his goblin timepiece. It was late afternoon on a day he was off-duty. "Can you tell her to come back tomorrow?"

"'da!" Marisen stomped.

"Alright, alright," Kassivir laughed, rising to his feet and ruffling her hair with his only remaining arm. "Don't get upset on her account."

The man buttoned up his tunic and headed out towards his doorstep where Relriah waited.

"Master Everburn," Relriah greeted him with a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"Lady Emberheart," he responded with a bow. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? You scared the living daylights out of Mari…" Kassivir looked over his shoulder to where his daughter was peeking at them from the bend in the corridor. "Would you like to come in? I could get some tea going."

"No need, this shouldn't take long," said Relriah, glancing over at the evesdropping girl over his shoulder. "Though you might want to step outside."

Kassivir tensed inperceptably, looking at the armed guards waiting in the garden. "Am I in trouble?"

Lady Emberheart retrieved the notice that Stenden had sent out to all who had previously served in the Sunguard, she held it up before nodding subtly towards his console table by the door, where his own lay— in shreds. "Your Lord put out a call to bolster the ranks of the Sunfire Vanguard. Why haven't you answered?"

"So I am in trouble," Kassivir said as he stepped outside and shut the door behind him. "I was under the impression that support was to be rendered on a voluntary basis."

Relriah's demeanour seemed to darken once Marisen was out of earshot. "Yes, my son's words do say as much, but that doesn't answer my question. Why haven't you answered."

"I have… A good thing going here. A daughter. A cottage. A quiet life spent training your militia men in peace—"

"—A life gifted by Sederis when he let you settle here in Westheath, a reward for your service. A life gifted to you by the man you turned your back on when his family needed you most," Relriah interrupted. The look in her eyes adding the reminder that he'd been on the wrong side of the civil war, in servicing of her father:

Traitor

The man looked away, flinching as a hot streak of shame tightened into a ball in his chest. "I gave Stenden my loyalty when my company was captured. I gave him my arm, assaulting the walls of your father's fortress. Was that not enough?"

"You owe him your LIFE," Relriah hissed, feeling old hatred from the war come spluttering back to surface. "Lady Dawnbrook would've had the lot of you treasonous dogs executed and, Light help me, I would've been all too happy to oblige her. It was Stenden who decided otherwise. Now he's put out a call. One that you're not answering."

"Is this an order?" Kassivir asked flatly.

"No. I'm not so cruel to forcefully seperate you from your daughter," she replied. "I am simply reminding you that you have a debt to repay."

Kassivir frowned. In the years since he had entered her service, their interactions had been professional, cold perhaps. But he had no idea that she had held him in such disdain. "So why then? If this is how you feel, why let me have my cottage- raise my daughter?"

"Because despite how I feel, I'm helping my son is build a more forgiving world than the one I was born into." Relriah paused and commanded herself to soften her demeanour, easing the anger out of her voice. "Because Marisen is a lovely girl who deserves a father… Even if he did make poor choices in the past." She turned to leave, keeping her eyes locked onto his over her shoulder. "And because I wanted to see if you'd prove me wrong. That you're more than a turncoat who joined us when it became clear that we were on the winning side of history. Something which you have yet to do."

--- "Ann'da your hand is shaking."

"Is it? Guess it's just chilly today."

"Your hand shakes when you're scared. It started shaking after Lady Emberheart came to our door." Marisen looked up at him. "I'm not stupid."

Kassivir let out a playful grumble. "Sometimes, I wish you were."

"'da!" she scolded, tossing his hand forward as they continued down the path towards another flower wreathed cottage in the Heartlands where a woman with rose-gold hair awaited. An old friend and ex-combat medic who had agreed to take her.

Before long, they were walking hand in hand again, her fingers squeezing tighter and tigher the closer she got to the end of the path they were on.

"I don't want to stay with Risa," she stated.

"What are you talking about? You love Risa," Kassivir responded, too quickly. "And I'm sure if you're really good she'll even show you how to do some fancy tricks with the Light."

"I don't want to stay with Risa," Marisen repeated.

Kassivir looked over at her. "Well, I'd have left you with Grand Aunt Lithy, but she's coming to help the Vanguard too."

"I don't want that either."

His smile faded as what she was really saying finally registered. "Me neither."

"Then why are you going? Is Lady Emberheart making you?"

"No, not really."

Marisen's mood soured at this. "So you're choosing to leave me."

"I'm not—" Kassivir stopped himself, because it was exactly what he was doing. He was leaving, not being made to leave by powers above him. He realised then, that by not ordering him to serve, by making this a question of honor, loyalty, and redemption, he couldn't blame Relriah for this decision. This was fully on him. One final cruelty.

"I have to. This is important," he forced out from his chest, trying to explain himself.

"Of course it is," Marisen added as she stopped in her tracks, digging her feet into the dirt just meters away from Risa's cottage now. "More important than me."

"Nothing is more important than you," he stated with all the conviction in the world.

"Then don't go." His daughter was on the verge of tears now, trying to keep a brave face the best that a twelve year old could.

He knelt, pulling a strand of her hair behind Marisen's ear and struggled to speak. Nothing he could say, no explanation he could give would make her feel any better. How could he articulate that everything he did was ultimately for her? That leaving her for the Vanguard was his way of keeping the kingdom where she lived safe from war. That this was the only way to make sure that she'd remain free of the debt of loyalty he owed to the Emberhearts— free of the sins of his past. So instead, Kassivir pulled her into a hug and just held her with a hand that wouldn't stop shaking. ---

The former medic and old comrade in arms was already waiting for him, answering the door and wiping her hands down a salve stained apron. "Kass," she greeted.

"Risa," he replied with a hug. "Thanks for this."

"It's no trouble at all, I've got a room all ready for her," she said.

Kassivir nodded. "I took her to the Heartfires first, but Lith had left the moment the notice came in."

"Typical," she said with a playful lilt. "You Death Seekers can't help yourselves can you?"

"Believe me when I say that I'd have rather sat this one out," Kassivir replied as Risa waved at the girl behind him. "But duty calls."

Risa waved over his shoulder. "Hey Mari!" she greeted.

Marisen waved back, but stubbornly kept her distance.

"How long does she need to stay for?"

"I don't know. A couple of months maybe? The Vanguard needs someone to whip new recruits into shape."

"And after they've been whipped into shape- You coming back?" Risa asked, pointedly. "Or will you be going out campaigning with this new regiment?"

Kassivir didn't respond.

"Well, you better come back."

"I'll try."

"I'm not raising an orphan, you hear?"

"I don't want you to."

A quiet understanding passed between the two veterans. None of this was up to him, it was all in the hands of Chaos and Luck and neither cared about the orphans they left.

"Well, you better go talk to her," Risa stated seriously as she nodded in Marisen's direction. "Tell her I have some sweetened tea waiting for her inside. Once she's ready."

Kassvir turned to his daughter, her heels still dug into the dirt path. With a heavy heart, he stepped up to her, placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"So, this is goodbye," he said.

Marisen looked up at him, offended. "Go then," she snapped, her tear rimmed eyes were now beginning to fill with anger.

Kassivir knelt, meeting her eye to eye and he dropped the usual tone he used with her. His voice grew dour and serious, the one he used when he needed her to listen to him, really listen. "The Kingdom needs me."

"I need you!" The girl yelled suddenly, surprising them both. Tears, that she had been holding back since they left their home were now running down her cheeks.

"The Kingdom needs me more," he stated.

"The same way the Kingdom needed Minn'da?"Marisen glared at him, but now with the same vicious intensity of her mother. The mother who had marched off to the Pheonix Wars and had never come home.

His heart stopped when she brought her up. They almost never brought her up. "No… That's— this is different."

"H-how?" She demanded, fingers balled into fists by her side, her voice shuddering. "Because when the fighting starts, they're not going to let you come home and the fighting always starts when one of you leave."

He squeezed her shoulder tighter. "Even if it does, I'll find a way to come home."

"Don't lie to me!" She screamed at the hollow promise. "You can't promise me that— I know how war works, I'm not a child!"

Kassivir looked at his daughter wanting to laugh at how ridiculous the assertion was. He studied her, how her small and fragile frame carried the fire he saw in her eyes. Eyes of a child yes, but ones that had seen war and understood how much it took and would continue taking from her.

"No… I suppose you're not," he said. "I'm sorry."

Marisen threw herself against him and wept.

"I'm sorry that this is all we could give to you." Kassivir spoke slowly, finally finding the words he had been looking for as the shaking in his hand stopped. "Your mother and I, we fought for a better world for you. A world where you could grow up safe and boring and normal. Where the most you have to worry about is if that boy at the market likes you back—"

"—'da I don't like Tomas—" she protested between sobs.

He pressed on. "—We fought for it. Your mother died for it. And we lost. We lost, and I'm sorry that this is the best we could give you."

Marisen breathed in, holding her quivering voice steady. "That's why you have to go."

"Yes," Kassivir confessed. "Because as hard as it is to leave you, if it means you'll be safe— if it means Lady Emberheart looks upon you favorably despite everything I've done— if it means you'll have a chance at that better world your mother and I imagined for you… Then I've got to try. I've got to keep fighting for it. Even if it means I won't come back."

"You'll come back," Marisen shot back, pressing her face into his shoulder. "You can't die. I know you can't. Grand Aunt Lithy won't let you." ---

The matron looked up at the flags of the mustering grounds, watching as the veteran soldiers who had served the Sunguard began to gather around her at the way station. From there, they'd be taken through The Bulwark's mountain passes that separated the Emberglades from the rest of the isle, then, across the bridge to the mainland where Silvermoon— and the Sunfire Vanguard awaited.

None of the faces she saw were familiar, not that she had expected to see any. There were only a handful of honest-to-god Death Seekers left after the Phoenix Wars. A lot of them either burned out, retired, or had lost themselves to madness. Most were just dead. So she stood alone in her regalia with her unit's black and white skulls on her pauldron.

No one dared approach her, not even to band up for their journey to Silvermoon. After all, Erissalithen was an unusual figure amongst crowd. Though she cut the same imposing figure of an infantrywoman with slicked back pale gold hair and a steeled posture, she was old, even by Elven standards. Her calloused hands and greying hair speaking louder than the armour she wore.

She was prepared to make the journey alone, until she saw him. Kassivir, with a pack slung over his good arm and a cloak covering the one that was missing. The man was dressed in a simple tunic, and looked lost... but certain. Like the stray wardog that Sederis pulled off death row 12 years ago.

"Kass!" she called out to him, and immediately saw his expression change. Something between regret and relief.

"Lith," he embraced her like the old family friend she was.

"Marisen?" She asked.

"Risa's. I figured she'd like it better there rather than with your brother," he replied.

"Good. That man would spoil her rotten. You'd come back to a round and unruly child."

"Rounder child," Kassivir corrected with a joke. "She's still got baby fat on her."

The mustering grounds began to grow crowded, not just with the fighting men and women of the Emberwardens but the other less glamorous roles that kept the engines of war running. Labourers. Foragers. All members of Sederis' old logistics corps. The ones who'd be part of the long tail to the armed and armoured teeth of the Sunfire Vanguard.

The duo however stood in comfortable silence, watching as the carts and carriages of the first convoy arrived and the troops to board.

"It never ends does it?" Kassivir asked suddenly. "War, I mean."

Erissalithen shook her head. "It does. Never is a long time and we're blessed to live long enough to see the end of war."

"Are we now?" He responded skeptically.

"In the six centuries I've been alive, war has only marked a fraction of it. Harvests and famines and festivals and children... there's been far more of those. There'll always be far more of those." she explained stoically.

"Until war threatens to brings an end to our people," he retorted.

"Not if we do our jobs right," the matron replied, looking at him. This was a far cry from the Death Seeker she remembered serving with.

Kassivir frowned, too ashamed to mention that he had to be dragged, kicking and screaming by duty and obligation to be here. "Yeah."

Sensing his doubt Erissalithen lowered her voice. "Kass."

"What?"

"Don't forget why we're here."

"Why are we here Lith?" Kassivir asked, meeting her eyes.

She could see his doubts clearly now, but knew better than to press him about it. "Same as it has ever been: To put our lives on the line so the people we love don't have to," she began as the second convoy arrived and they shuffled towards to the back of a cart.

She continued. "There's a chance, a slim chance, that my grandchildren can have lives completely untouched by war. I'd die a thousand deaths to make sure they keep that chance. That is why I'm here." Erissalithen climbed aboard, then offering him a hand.

"You're here because Mari deserves the same."

[thepilgrimofwar]

Afterlife

Kaijin clutched his rifle, staring out at the wreckage of the Glymlit Dark. Above him, haphazardly bundled flares burst overhead like fireworks as the celebrations continued. The Garlean Empire had fallen at last, and for a brief moment, this dark place at the edge of Othard had ceased to be a battlefield and his hands trembled with indecision.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” said Yuka, breaking the spell that seemed to grip the Corporal.

“Never thought I’d last long enough.” Kaijin replied as he looked back at her, watching as his second in command cradled her rifle like a child in her arms. 

“With how you conduct yourself? I’m not surprised,” she jested lightly. “So is that what’s eating you? That you’re still alive when so many others aren’t?”

He considered her words for a moment before taking the lifeline that she had offered and pulled himself back. “No. Not quite. It just feels like I just lost something important.”

“Your purpose?”

“More than that, it’s like life has very abruptly lost its colour.” he said, staring out into the celebratory light show that illuminated the bleak no man’s land before him.

“Was the war that important to you?”

“It was,” Kaijin replied softly. “The decisions I made and the wars I fought in Doma’s name, were all in her service. But she is free now,” Kaijin stated, as if it were everything. “And by extension, so am I.”

Yuka remained silent as she joined him by the scarred hillside, looking out into the battlefield wreckage from the war they had won. “I don’t follow,” she said, wanting to.

“I’ve only ever lived my life for others. Doing what they wanted of me. My entire life’s purpose was dictated to free Doma and I was glad for it. It made life easy, throwing my life at a worthy cause. But now that the war is over…” Kaijin trailed off, unable to find the words. “I don’t know how to go on. No battles left to fight. No cause to give myself to.” The man looked at his second in command. “Do you follow?”

“I think so,” she said quietly, “but I don’t understand. You’re free to live for yourself now, to find another worthy cause. You can do as you please.”

“That’s the problem,” Kaijin sighed and smiled at how stupid he felt. “I don’t know how to do as I please. I don’t know what I want. Anything that comes to mind simply pales in comparison to the endeavour we just saw through. It’s all…Pointless.”

Yuka nodded, figuring out that it was the first time Kaijin had even considered life. “After Doma pulls us off the line, I’m going to go home. I’m going to find a nice boy who doesn’t mind a noisy woman for a wife, and start a family. Why don’t you consider doing the same?”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for that,” he replied.

“Well, never know until you try.” Yuka chuckled, patting her friend on the shoulder. “But seriously, you had to come from somewhere before you were given to the Liberation Front. Go there, you might find a new purpose there.”

[thepilgrimofwar]

Precipice

Victory had never felt so hollow.

When their commanding officer announced that a peace had been reached, his subordinates reclaimed the eerie silence of the Glymlit Dark with their celebrations.

Kaijin couldn’t find it in himself to join them.

Instead, he stood there, empty, vacant.

At long last, Doma was safe.

And he had no idea what to do now. 

All his life, he had lived for one singular purpose: To Free Doma from Imperial Rule.

Everything he did, every hardship he had endured, and mission he undertook was all in service to this one singular outcome.

He had never planned for the day it happened.

He had never expected to last long enough to see it.

 He watched as some broke down in tears as others began to play.

Free from their soldiering obligations soldiers returned to the boys and girls they were.

The wounds of war could wait for tomorrow.

Today was the start of a bright new era for all of them.

An era of freedom as long as there were men and women like them to protect it.

 The thought of It horrified Kaijin.

He knew what to expect from an era of war.

But an era of freedom?

The unknown gazed at him like a gaping maw.

The hole in his chest began to fill with an aching dread.

He forgot how to breathe.

He no longer had his reason to.

[thepilgrimofwar]

The Dark

The Glymlit Dark was a cursed place. It had been so, even before war touched this land. Constricted by aetherial darkness, the sun had to sway here. It was here that the final climactic battle between the Doman Liberation Front and the Garlemald Empire was fought, one bloody meter at a time.

A dozen aetheric flares burst overhead, breaking the eternal night with eerie crimson light. Somewhere, from a distant barricade built upon a scarred hillside, came a cacophony of gunfire that laid waste to a company of advancing infantry below. The survivors scampered into the moonscape of artificial craters, returning fire. Their tiny muzzle flashes gave way to tracers that spiraled into the sky. 

Kaijin watched from his stronghold, musing how much they looked like fireflies. Relatively safe from the war and the other worldly carrion outside that feasted on the war dead, Kaijin's squad made their home in the skeleton of an old battered building. In another life, this structure had been a halfway house, a light in the darkness to see travelers on their way to brighter places. Now it had become a makeshift fortress of sorts, fortified with haphazard barricades and sandbags.

Yuka sat atop her high perch on the second floor where a makeshift parapet had been constructed. From her vantage point, she scanned the grounds below with her sniper rifle. She hadn't slept since they arrived here and she didn't intend to until the day she left. Yuka hadn't counted on being here for three days. Her body felt heavy, weighed down by fatigue and stress and it took all of her willpower to remain focused.

She tensed for a moment when she felt a presence nearby but relaxed immediately when it turned out to be Kaijin.

"You look troubled," Kaijin remarked to his second in command, crossing his arms and leaning against the parapet wall beside her. His eyes were shrouded in the gloom, barely visible in the darkness outside.

"Who isn't?" Yuka replied curtly. "There's something else out there."We've all seen it. Something lurking around the edges of this place. Watching us. Waiting for an opportunity to strike."

Kaijin shrugged. "You lot are overthinking it. That's just the Ashkin, probably the previous inhabitants of this place who haven't been properly put to rest. It happens sometimes when you hunker down in fresh ruins in the middle of a warzone. I'm sure they'll leave us be."

"You're sure?" Yuka grunted. "They may have left us alone for now but what if they attack? What then? We can't shoot ghosts now can we?"

"I won't let anything happen to you." Kaijin replied calmly. "Trust me. It will be fine."

Yuka paused for a moment, considering his words, then shook her head. "You know this place is different. You saw how the squad reacted to it when we first got here. And I've been thinking: isn't it odd that the Garleans would leave a strongpoint like this unoccupied? It's like they knew something was wrong and steered clear."

"You're overthinking it," Kaijin repeated.

“I trust you Corporal,” Yuka replied formally, “but honestly the troops are spooked and on edge.”

The squad leader frowned. “Fine,” he conceded. “Something is out there, and if it makes all of you feel better, I'll deal with it."

He left without waiting for her response, slipping away while Yuka returned dutifully to her vigil.

***

Kaijin placed his rifle on the ground, followed by his combat webbing and a folded jacket of the Doman Liberation Front. Patting the insignia of his fledgling state, he rose again to his feet before his squad. "I'm going out," he announced, rolling up his sleeves and fastening his suspenders.

“Corporal?” One of his subordinates asked in response.

Kaijin looked at him and tested the reassuring weight of his katana on his hip. “Do your jobs. Stay alive. If I don’t come back, don’t come looking for me. Redistribute my ammo and look to Private First Class Toyhama for instruction.” he ordered before climbing between a barricade and disappearing from view.

He prowled the perimeter of the stronghold slowly, observing his surroundings carefully as the war continued off in the distance. But beneath the chatter of gunfire, and the soft glow of distant explosions, he saw clues of his quarry. In the gray mud of Glymlit Dark were the half eaten corpses of Imperial soldiers. Kaijin approached cautiously, following a trail of half-rotten viscera round the corner of the structure until he saw a battered cellar door.

“...Cold…”

Kaijin heard a whisper as the doors to the cellar began to rise, revealing a thing in the shape of a man who had no face. In the place of its features was a singular elongated mouth, which it had used to feast on the banquet of flesh provided to it by the war. The squad leader had seen enough Ashkin of its sort in his time not to be unnerved.

“...Hungry…”

The thing repeated as it mimicked the drawing of breath, as if trying to remember what it used to be beyond the needs it could no longer sate. Kaijin rose slowly from a crouch, exerting his presence for the benefit of the Ashkin.

“...Guest?” it said, punctuating its groans and turning its eyeless face towards the soldier.

“Guest.” Kaijin replied. “Taking shelter from the storm.”

“...Storm?” it said, looking to the sky filled with the lights of Imperial airships and the tracers from anti-airship guns. “Storm. Come. Inside.”

The Ashkin ushered him down towards the cellar where the corpses of Garlean soldiers were butchered and piled high like a larder. Kaijin averted his eyes.

“...Food?” it asked as it shut the door above them.

“No thank you,” he said as he activated his aetheric torch, filling the putrid basement with cold white light. Kaijin sighed, watching as the creature went about its business, groaning as it tried to eat its fill, tearing away at a corpse in the corner of the room. He pitied the creature, and pitied what he knew he had to do. “What is your name, innkeeper?”

The thing paused. “Name…? Innkeeper…?”

“When the war started, trade must have stopped and shipments of food would have stopped coming this way. You starved to death.”

“...Starved?”

Kaijin nodded. “That’s why you’re always cold, always hungry. I knew others like you, long ago. Do you remember?”

The Ashkin brought its skeletal fingers to its head as it began to let out a howl. “Unfair! It wasn’t fair! They said they’d be here in two weeks, then a month went by, there was nowhere to go!”

“It’s time to move on,” Kaijin said, “your time of misery has long passed. Do not prolong it.”

It twisted its head to face him, now animated with a new found vigor. “No! I have all I can eat now, look! Would you like some?!”

“I said, no thank you.”

“It’s rude to refuse hospitality,” it smiled with a predatory grin. “Come. Eat.”

Kajin sighed. He was afraid it might come down to this. “I’m not hungry.”

“Liar!” The thing in the shape of a man came at him with a Garlean flank in its bony hand, intent on force feeding its guest.

Kaijin stood his ground. With a deadly calm, he rested the palm of his hand flat against the hilt on his sword. A hingan katana of foreign construction, sheathed in teak and mahogany and decorated with peranakan carvings. In an instant, the blade glowed a deep blue of corrupted aether that flowed into his hand.

May this one day fulfill the promise we made to each other.

He sidestepped the charging Ashkin, drew his sword and brought it down upon the screeching creature. It writhed, fell, and with the corrupted glow permeating its entire being melted away without a trace.

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

To his host.

To himself.

[thepilgrimofwar]

Warscape

He was in love.

Absolutely smitten by it.

Before he was old enough to understand the misery of it all, and the human tragedy it entailed,

It was impressed upon him that war was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 Flares burning low overhead, peeling back the oily shadows of night with a momentary artificial sun.

Tracers gliding over a sea of grass, dancing off their targets as they ricochet into the night sky.

The flash of warm orange lightning as shells detonated in the distance, followed by the soft rumble of explosive thunder, sounding like a storm about to break.

 As a child, he would just stare at it for hours.

Captivated like a moth to a flame.

Only the flame was the sight of distant cities on fire.

[thepilgrimofwar]

Butcher

There is a purity to the way she cuts the aether of a mind.

Adding and subtracting.

Altering.

Lacing it all with a thin layer of pain.

 Her eyes narrow.

Not like a predator, but like a mechanic.

Laser focused on all the threads of aether at her disposal.

That’s what I love about her.

There is a monstrosity to her.

That cold professional indifference to the pain she inflicts upon her victims.

But I ensure that her services are reserved for those truly deserving of such treatment.

Because the only thing sweeter than bringing justice down upon evil men is the look in their eyes when they learn that they are dealing with someone far worse than they are.

 Because violence is nothing more than a tool.

It can be used to uphold the tyranny of evil men.

Or it tear it down.

One mind at a time.

 She understands this.

She embodies it.

I love her for it.

[thepilgrimofwar]

I Love her Fiercely

Before she was born, I had never believed that anything of beauty could come from this war.

But there she was. Ren. Our beautiful lotus, blooming from the Nagxian mud.

We become more than ourselves after that.

She became our reason to fight.

To usher in a better world for her to live in.

If only it were that simple. 

I wanted better for her.

Nagxia was no place for a child.

But we were warlords.

It was all we could give her.

 She grew up amongst it all.

Her mother taught her all there was to know about the jungle.

I taught her all there was to know about the ones who lived in it.

Together, we had hoped to give her a fighting chance to see the world we so desperately fought for.

We never thought we’d see the day it would actually happen.

 After we liberated our homeland, we finally brought her home.

To her, it was simply jungle of another sort.

New rules of nature to learn, and battles to fight.

Only without bloodshed this time.

 Today, I let her go.

To enjoy the freedom so many of her uncles and aunties gave their lives for.

To live a life beyond the life of constant conflict.

To learn what it means to live.

It is our gift to her.

[thepilgrimofwar]

White Scabbard

Lord Akihide addressed the lowly vagrant that had been brought before him. The longhaired Doman had been recommended for his discretion and efficiency, though it didn’t make the Daimyo feel any less uneasy. There was just something about causeless men that unnerved him. Perhaps because he knew that without attachments to things greater than themselves, men had the capacity to behave no better than beasts. The Lord eyed his guest but supposed that the man’s beasthood had still yet to be proven.

“Tell me, Sawashiro, what is strength for?”

Sawashiro Kaijin bowed his head and stepped forward, not unfamiliar with courtly mannerisms despite his plain appearance. “Could you elaborate my Lord?” he replied.

“My father would have told you that strength is for its own sake,” Akihide Yukio dropped his lordly demeanour for a moment and continued. “But he was an old feudal lord who had carved his kingdom into existence with his sword. My mother however would have had you believe that strength is found in silence. To be able to bear the unbearable. I would like to have your answer.”

Kaijin considered this for a moment before responding. “Its purpose would depend entirely on what it is in service of.”

“And what are you in service of?”

“Doma.” Kaijin said without a moment’s hesitation.

Yukio eased at last. Bannerless as his guest was, they were yet aligned in their purpose.

“There is no greater cause,” Lord Akihide said, adopting his title once more. “and we will be serving Doma by proxy through each other.” The lesser daimyo snapped his fingers, and court attendants presented his guest a scroll. “Your task.”

Kaijin took the invitation to unfurl the document, taking a few moments to absorb its contents before furling his brow. “Garleans?” he questioned.

“The war is over, Sawashiro, and the Akihide Clan is making new Doman citizens from its refugees. What better way to make use of our former enemies than to have them serve Doma? Especially those well versed in magitek. Garlean Engineers, technomancers, scientists, I’d use them to build a better future for our war torn homeland…Though it is needless to say there are those who disagree. Violently.”

The Doman nodded and took the pause to speak. “Four murders. Werylt. Valnian. Ishgard. Kugane.”

“All done outside Doman borders, all involving Garlean experts who had answered the call and accepted my offer,” Lord Akihide confirmed. “Find out who is doing this and stop them. Lest we earn an unsavoury reputation amongst the other clans.”

Kaijin nodded. “I’ll begin immediately.”

His host raised a hand. “Not quite,” Lord Akihide said, folding his arms. “There is another task. Arguably one that is even more important.”

The man looked to the court attendants in anticipation for yet another scroll.

“This one is unwritten,” Yukio explained, dropping his noble demeanour once more. “Our mutual friend who recommended you for this job insisted that you have no interest in women, is this true?”

Kaijin tilted his head, curious to see how this was relevant in any way. “I have no interest as I understand it,” the man responded neutrally.

“Good. Because I will have my daughter accompany you on your travels. It would be a good opportunity for her to learn about the world beyond Othard and you are to protect her above all else.”

The man regarded the request for a moment before speaking. “Not to question your wisdom, but are you certain you wish to entrust the safety of your sole heir to me?”

“Who said anything about her safety?” Yukio replied frankly, enjoying the look of confusion on his guest’s face. “She’s the daughter of two warlords. Born from the mud and blood of Nagxia. You’re a fellow veteran from Nagxia, are you not?”

“Ten years,” Kaijin replied, as if it explained everything.

“Then you know how deadly one born from that war can be. No, the girl can take care of herself. Your duty will be to protect her, not as her sword but her scabbard. Keep her steady, keep her sharp, and bring my daughter home alive.”

[thepilgrimofwar]

Effigy

6.

Kaijin tied his hair back and donned an apron as the duo stepped out the back of the Southern Pagoda and into its open air kitchens. Large enough for a dozen cooks, it was fed by a small canal that drew water from the natural spring beneath them. But as the boy went through the list of ingredients provided by their quartermaster and formed a Yanxian menu for the coming feast, it was clear that Rui Ying hadn’t fully gotten over her defeat in the courtyard. He could tell because she was damaging the cutting boards.

“Can’t take a joke,” Rui Ying muttered under her breath to herself, chopping a bunch of spring onions a little too violently.

"You've got to keep your emotions in check," Kaijin commented at last. He had hoped that, given time, she’d begin to calm down, but instead the girl only seemed to grow increasingly infuriated for the past twenty minutes.

"It’s because I'm a girl, isn’t it?" Rui Ying snapped back, “it always comes back to that.”

"No," he replied flatly, "it's because you’re going to add splinters to the hotpot if you keep hacking away at the cutting board.”

She stabbed her kitchen knife into her board and folded her arms. “How am I supposed to take a joke, when I am the joke to them?”

Kaijin paused, wiping his brow he set the fourth cauldron of broth over a nearby fire pit to bring it to a boil and wiping his brow. “You can’t let words get under your skin like that. Kham knew exactly how to needle you the moment he called you a weakling."

“And what would you have me do? Take it lying down?" Rui Ying spat, “I had to make him eat his words.”

“And how did that work out?” Kaijin stated firmly.

Rui Ying opened her mouth to retort but found that the boy had a point.

“Kham is sharper than he looks,” Kaijin continued, “he can take one look at you and he can size up your insecurities. The insults and jabs that follow are perfectly calculated to get a rise out of you.” Kaijin said, retrieving bowls of diced herbs and vegetables and adding them to stock. “In you, he saw a girl with a distaste for being second guessed and never being taken seriously.”

Rui Ying sighed. Picking up her knife she selected an untouched section of the board and continued chopping her spring onions. “What does he see in you then? How does he get under your skin?”

Kaijin turned to look at her and after a few long moments, he replied. “He calls me a pussy. Cunt boy. Sissy. Anything vulgar and female really.”

“And you don't do anything?”

“It isn’t an insult to be called girl-like,” he said, stirring the broth of a nearby pot with a ladle. “He sees softness as something to be reviled. That femininity is a weakness that makes me somehow lacking.”

Rui Ying frowned, walking over and scraping her scallions into a pot next to him. “You know that’s bullshit right? You lack nothing. If anything it’s boys like him who are lacking.”

Kaijin tilted his head curiously at her. “How so?”

“Do any of them help you in the kitchen? Can any of them?” Rui Ying gave Kaijin a moment to respond before she continued. “No Doman man I’ve seen has set foot in the domain of women. None of them know where to begin when it comes to care taking, cooking, cleaning, child rearing–they’d rather buy another wife than cross that divide. A divide that doesn’t seem to exist for you.”

The boy took a long time to process what she told him before simply nodding and headed back to the other end of the open kitchen. “I wish it did,” he said quietly, busying himself with more preparation work. 

She chuckled. “You want to be just another stupid boy?”

“Yes,” he replied and the girl stopped laughing. “I have only crossed into a realm where men aren’t welcome by virtue of being a tool.”

Rui Ying took her place at the center of the kitchen. “You’re more than that,” she said with indignity, “you’re not a thing.”

Kaijin confronted Rui Ying, shocking her with a rare display of anger. “Then what am I?” he asked and when it became clear that she could not give him an answer, he stepped away. “If I’m not a girl, and if I can’t be a stupid boy, I can at least settle for being useful.”

–

Together, in silence, they finished preparing enough food to feed the forty four candidates of the Kohai Project and their handlers. Placing the diced meat and vegetables that would later be served into an aetheric chilled pantry, the duo retrieved eleven large serving pots and scrubbed each of them clean.

“I served in the harem of the Emerald Empress during the time we visited her domain beneath the waves.” Kaijin said suddenly, offering to break the tension from earlier.

Rui Ying gladly took the offer. “You were a concubine?” she replied.

Kaijin regarded her curiously, tilting his head at her until it became apparent that the comment was not made in jest. “I stayed among the children there.”

Rui Ying’s eyes widened as an incredulous expression began to form on her face. “Children? In her harem?” she questioned, stopping mid-scrub.

“Do you not understand what a harem is?” Kaijin asked, before offering to educate her. “It is the inner realm where the women and children of royal families reside. It is a place where every relative, consort, or concubine helps to raise the princes and princesses in the ways of the court–its nuances, and intrigues.”

“Oh,” Rui Ying muttered sheepishly, “I thought harems were...something else.” 

“Something else?” Kaijin regarded her curiously.

A blush rose to her cheeks as she attempted to explain. “You know? Where an Emperor would host their concubines and have his pick of them.” she mumbled as her mind wandered to the tales she had heard.

“What? In the harem?” Kaijin laughed, the first one she had heard from him. “He could try, but I’m sure some distant grandaunt or other would’ve wagged her finger and have him kicked out!”

“A domestic space,” Rui Ying posited.

“Secluded from the world of men, like the divide you spoke of earlier. Only Inodayan.”

Rui Ying continued washing out the serving pots in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. “I don’t know why I thought otherwise,” she said.

“Likely because it was described by Doman scholars, who were barred entry to such spaces–so of course something exotic and erotic must have taken place behind closed doors, for if not, why else would they be denied entry?”

“So instead, we got tales of fantastical sex escapades.” Rui Ying laughed.

“Which happened too, only those took place in the Empress' bedchambers.” Kaijin continued nonchalantly as the girl almost dropped her pot. “Even then, those spaces were more than that. Each of her many wives and husbands were also her advisors. Nyai Lara, being a goddess, was disconnected from the affairs of mortality and hence valued their council.”

The girl seemed to grow increasingly flustered as her mind reeled. Husbands and wives? Her Doman sensibilities were no help as she tried to wrap her head around it. “And how do you know all this?” hoping he was just teasing her at her expense.

Kaijin stacked his half of the serving pots and continued. “Though I was older than most of them, I stayed with the children for lessons during the day. At night, as part of my education, I was asked to observe.”

“O-observe?”

Seeing that his friend had turned beet red and completely shut down. He went to Rui Ying’s washing station and continued scrubbing on her behalf. “The Empress told me love making was an important thing to learn, even if I had no interest in it. For if I ever took a husband or wife, it would be how I’d express my love for them.”

Rui Ying composed herself, trying to approach the subject with the same frankness as he did. “Would you?” she asked, “take a husband or wife?”

“No, a family will only bring pain,” the boy replied without hesitation, “it will end in heartache one way or another.”

Rui Ying frowned, suddenly keenly aware of their tenuous mortality. For a moment, she sincerely wished that they were in another universe, having a chat as nothing more than two teenagers. Not soldiers to a resistance movement nor candidates of the Kohai Project.

Kaijin gave her a knowing nod, stacking the remaining pots and setting them aside. “Do you understand now? It’s easier to just be an instrument of the Doman Liberation Front, or a tool for my family’s revenge. Tools don’t have to worry about things like these. Being a thing makes fate easier to accept.”

–

“He will see you now,” said a middle-aged man in a sarong called out to the duo.

Kaijin nodded. “We’ll join you in a moment,” he replied as he altered the fire pits to bring his cauldrons of broth to a simmer.

“Who will see us now?” Rui Ying asked.

“The last member of Section 0 you have not met,” he replied, removing his apron and joining the man as he led them towards the gardens of the overgrown pagoda.

The three of them followed a red brick path flanked by canals that brought the water from the kitchens down into the large Inodayan rock ponds. Within them were blooming lotus flowers and other species of local water lilies. Surrounding these ponds were fragrant temple trees that perfumed the air and screwpines that seemed to keep the local insects at bay.

As they continued onwards until they found themselves at the very center of a small stone courtyard surrounded by a formation of bricked rock ponds where a boy awaited them.

“Thank you Hizir,” he said, writing hastily upon an outdoor desk and handing the missive over to his counterpart. "Let's hope the messenger birds don't go missing this time."

Hizir Reis bowed respectfully before leaving the courtyard, heading back up the path to the top of the pagoda where the aviary was located.

The boy stepped forward, dressed in a black Mandaran baju, marked with gold songket embroidery on its edges. He looked out of place, almost too clean and regal for this place or line of work. Fastening his tombak spear to his back and tucking his keris dagger into his waistband the boy smiled. "Younger brother Kaijin," he said in perfect Hingan. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

Kaijin seemed to snap out of a day dream and cleared his throat. “I present to you, Adnan bin Laksamana Iskandar–Adnan, son of Admiral Iskandar,” he announced as if he were a herald. "Prince of the Inodayan Empire."

"One of the princes," Adnan corrected. "54th in line to be exact. It is bad to give the wrong impression that I'm someone important."

Kaijin smiled at what seemed like an inside joke. "This is Fu Rui Ying, the latest addition to Section 0."

"It is an honor to make your acquaintance Rui Ying," he said, making a courtly gesture that was foreign to her.

Rui Ying felt like she had been knocked off balance. In an instant, she began unpacking all she knew about acting before royalty. Was she supposed to prostrate herself and kowtow? Or was that Udayan greeting, the wai, more appropriate? Instead she found herself performing a fist palm salute. "You highness," she mumbled awkwardly, with vocabulary she wasn't prepared to use. 

The prince grinned at her reaction, "please, call me Adnan. I may be royalty, but out here, we all serve the same cause. That makes us equals."

"You could have fooled me, considering your servant," Rui Ying spoke up, testing if there was any substance to his claim.

Kaijin and Adnan looked at each other and the Inodayan laughed. "My handler may be give my his utmost loyalty, but I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate being called my servant."

Rui Ying blinked slowly, trying her best to stop her jaw from dropping. "That was your handler?"

"Hizir al-Valnian Reis," Adnan stated. "A refugee from Dalmasca Inferior, turned royal fencing instructor, turned handler." The prince enjoyed the hierarchical whiplash the revelation seemed to cause the girl. It was clear that the prince was well versed in how Doman society operated, and how it was almost exclusively governed by seniority. "Would you like to take a seat?" he offered, gesturing at the lip of one of the brick rock ponds.

Rui Ying nodded and the prince proceeded to pour her a drink from a nearby pitcher: rose syrup in a silver goblet.

"Kaijin, thank you for indulging me, this was a much better reaction than when you introduced me to Kham." Adnan said as joined the Domans by the pond. 

"Did you call you a weakling and try to fight you?" Rui Ying asked.

Adnan passed her the goblet. "Why, yes actually. He also snorted when Kaijin announced my title and called me a brat pretending to be royalty."

The girl took a long sip of the sweet beverage, as she grew more comfortable. "So who won?" she asked.

"No one did, I refused the challenge, admitting he was stronger than me. A reaction he seemed unable to process,” Adnan chuckled. “Though I must admit, I feel like half his crassness is due to his command of the language. He knows the vocabulary but not the negative implications of calling someone a weakling."

"I'm sure he sounds like a real gentleman when he speaks Nagxian," Rui Ying replied sarcastically.

"Oh, of course not, He's even worse!" Adnan laughed again. "But he's an honest type, brutally honest to a fault."

"Honest," Rui Ying repeated.

"Yes, blunt, prideful too" Adnan agreed. "But he means well and he's probably the smartest person I know." The prince noticed the look of skepticism that crossed both his guest's expressions.

They gave him credit that he was smarter than he seemed, but being the smartest a member of royalty knew?

The prince explained. "He speaks native Udayan, fluent Nagxian, and passable Hingan. He'd never tell you this but he was actually educated in a Nyai Lara missionary school before he went down the path of a warrior."

"Sorry, Ny...?" Rui Ying attempted to repeat before remembering what Kaijin had told her earlier. “The Emerald Empress?”

Adnan and Kaijin shared a glance, each trying to figure out how much they needed to teach the newcomer about this part of the world. "Nyai Lara, the Emerald Empress & goddess of the southern seas..." Adnan paused, seeming a bit concerned. "Do you...know where Inodaya is?"

Rui Ying shook her head and the prince seemed wounded by the reaction. "I'm sorry," she said sheepishly. “Kaijin had told me he had served in her court at the time but nothing further than that.”

"It's no matter. Maybe another time, but if you're interested, Kaijin and I would love to tell you more about Inodaya & Nyai Lara." the prince gave a genuine smile, almost excited to talk about his homeland.

Rui Ying returned the smile. "So what brought you out here?” she asked, “it sounds like you're far from home."

Adnan looked wistfully where the trees of the garden parted just enough to see the horizon beyond the plateau. "Duty," he said. "I was sent with our soul smiths, my father's contribution to The Project of Decay."

Rui Ying blinked, tilting her head curiously at his pronunciation of the Hingan word he had just said. "Decay?"

"The Kōhai Project," Kaijin said with a single sharp nod.

後輩？

Kōhai?

Rui Ying’s heart began to pound. It felt as if she was on the cusp of something both immense and terrible. “Were we not supposed to be students?”

後輩し？

Kōhaishi?

Kaijin regarded her with empathy, realizing that she was just beginning to understand their role in the project. He shook his head. "No."

荒廃し。

Kōhaishi.

Rui Ying felt her stomach sink. “What are we?” she asked as her hands began to tremble, finally realizing what she had misunderstood. “Why are we here?”

荒廃した。

Kōhaishita.

“We’re sacrifices.”

--

Part 5

[thepilgrimofwar]

Effigy

5.

“So that concludes our tour,” Shinmen announced, turning towards Ruì Yīng “which brings me to your first assignment.”

“Sensei?” Ruì Yīng stood at attention, still dazed by the discovery of her role in all this but suddenly proud to be of service to the Kohai Project.

“Can you cook Yanxian cuisine?”

The girl blinked once, then twice at her superior. “Uhm, yes? I used to help in the family kitchen with my sisters.”

“Good, then assist Sawashiro. Because the arrival of much needed supplies calls for celebration and I can think of no better way than a feast using the very ingredients sent to us by Lord Kien.” Shinmen turned to his ward. “Help her to get acquainted and ensure that the feast is ready by nightfall. Hideshi and I need to catch up.”

“Understood,” Kaijin nodded.

“And Ruì Yīng,” Shinmen added, “about Disgraced Zhang, Captain Diem would like to have a word with you about him, likely to decide what sort of unsavoury fate awaits him should he survive his fever. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I-” she felt her mind reel as the topic was brought up, but did her best to remain composed. “Thank you,” she said.

Hideshi followed up. “Would executing him compromise our mission to link the liberation fronts?”

Shinmen shook his head. “Considering his crimes, I’d say his mission is already compromised.”

“And what of Lord Kien’s reaction? Surely the beheading of a diplomat of foreign relations would not sit well with him.”

Shinmen merely shrugged. “He has no jurisdiction here and is wise enough to know that,” the older man glanced at Ruì Yīng as if he were addressing her. “We get to decide what justice is, I only hope we’re wise enough to exercise it properly.”

–

They waited at the Northern Pagoda outside what used to be the audience hall of the head abbot. It had been since converted into the war planning room of the Nagxian Liberation Front. Rui Ying could hear the voice Captain Diệm amongst many others and imagined the things that were being discussed beyond the heavy hardwood door. Troops numbers, scouting reports, quartermaster ledgers, and maps that would decide the fates of thousands of soldiers on either side of the conflict. She wondered for a moment if she would've made a better tactician if she hadn’t been picked for the Kohai Project. But came to the conclusion that, given her age and gender, she would've most likely ended up as a secretary to some Doman Lord. She shuddered at the thought.

The doors to the war room opened and a number of officers strode out with purpose. Kaijin stepped forward, announced his name and rank in Nagxian, and entered at the behest of the captain.

"I hope you're doing well," Captain Diệm said through Kaijin.

Rui Ying, who had gotten used to the proxied communication, bowed her head politely at the officer. "I am, thank you for asking."

"I won't keep you long, but I must ask. What would you have us do with Diplomat Zhang? I feel like his actions have tainted both Liberation Fronts by mere association."

She looked at Kaijin, "I was half expecting this to be swept under a rug."

The boy almost translated her response to the Captain before realising it was directed at him. "Unlike our own, almost half of the Nagxian Liberation Front consists of female volunteers, so crimes like these are taken very seriously and severely punished. They do not take kindly to men like Disgraced Zhang."

Rui Ying nodded and made up her mind about his punishment. "Tell him that he is to be kept here, continuing his duty as a diplomat for the Doman Liberation Front until the end of the conflict."

Captain Diệm regarded her with curiosity. "The end to the conflict is unclear."

"Exactly," Rui Ying held the captain's gaze. "Send him back to Doma and he will walk free as a government official, and enjoy all the privileges of his station. I would deny him that. Indefinitely."

"As you wish," the Nagxian man folded his arms. “But why not simply execute him? That's the usual response for these sorts of crimes.”

"I'd rather not sour the relations between our Liberation movements. Kill him and they'll likely replace him with someone worse–Besides, for men like him, living with a disgrace is often worse than death.”

The captain laughed. “May we never be enemies, Fu Rui Ying,” Diem said, bowing his head. “We'll make arrangements to keep him here permanently and inform Lord Kien of his crimes. The jungle will serve as his prison."

–

"Before we head for the kitchens, I'll show you to our quarters," the boy said as they passed the war table that dominated the chamber, covered in maps and reports. "Our quarters?" Ruì Yīng asked in surprise, following him outside and towards the overgrown Southern pagoda. "You'll be the fourth member of Section 0, my team." Kaijin responded, before it finally dawned upon him. "But considering that you're the only girl in our ranks...and…what happened at the waystation, perhaps it might be better if you stay in the female quarters with the Nagxian Resistance?" "No," Rui Ying replied without hesitation. "I'm a soldier first, and a girl second. I’d rather not be treated any differently.”

Kaijin nodded. "Very well then," he said, continuing on his path towards the Southern pagoda.

Rui Ying looked around curiously as Kaijin led her deeper into the complex, crossing under stone gates that led into the southern compound. Overrun with vines and trees that sprouted cracks in the stone, it looked as if the entire pagoda was being slowly swallowed by the jungle that had come creeping up the nearby cliff. She made a mental note as they entered the pagoda itself, charting out the other walkways that branched off to either side of her as she followed the boy through the maze-like temple. 

When they reached the end of the corridor Kaijin opened a large wooden door that had been freshly fitted, revealing a simple room with four bedrolls and a small table at its center. There were no windows; illumination only came from a single aetheric lantern that hung near the doorway.

"This is home," Kaijin stated, “it isn’t much but it’s ours.”

“Where are the others?” Rui Ying asked.

“Out on patrol, they’ll be back soon enough,” he explained, “when we aren’t on special assignments or training, we’re usually assisting our allies in one way or another.” 

“Like sentry duty?”

“Or translating for Captain Diem,” Kaijin nodded before nudging a small chest nearby with his foot. "I know you didn't bring much with you but anything you put in here is off-limits to the rest of the Section."

Rui Ying sat down on the cushioned bedroll that was assigned to her, and stared at the empty chest next to her. She had never been allowed such a luxury since she had left her home. Under Hideshi's strict regimentation, she only owned what she could carry on her person–and this empty space gave her a profound sense of permanence she hadn’t felt since.

"Are you okay?" Kaijin asked, sitting down on the bedroll opposite from her.

"It's...nothing," said Rui Ying, shaking her head dismissively.

The boy took a moment to weigh his response before continuing. "As your Section leader, it may be my duty to look after you…But as your friend, I’d like to hear what’s bothering you.”

Friend. 

That word hadn't been part of her vocabulary for a painfully long time.

She decided to take a chance. “My family had given me up because food was scarce and I was another mouth to feed. The least important of their five children. Then I trained for two years under Hideshi, who made it clear that because I was a girl, I did not belong in this realm of men. So, I’ve had homes, only none of them were mine.”

“Maybe this time will be different,” Kaijin said before growing silent, deciding to return her favour. “I was told that I was conceived after Doma fell,” Kaijin replied. “Named after what my family had left behind.”

“Ashes?” she replied as if she were answering a riddle.

“Our ancestral home was burned to the ground when the Garleans set Yanxia ablaze. My family hid in the mountains with the Doman armed forces and did everything in their power to support them. To avenge what was lost. To free our homeland.” Kaijin stared into the middle distance. “I was born with that in mind.”

沢城灰燼。 

Sawashiro Kaijin.

灰 

燼

。

Kaijin.

It suddenly began to make sense. As she rolled the characters of his name off her tongue one final time, she spat out the realisation like it was poison.

“You had said you were Sensai Shinmen’s blade, an instrument to Doma’s liberation. A thing.”

“Born for a single purpose: a tool for their revenge. A sword to be wielded by the Liberation Front. An…offering to the homeland they loved so much. Once I was old enough to fight, I was given up like you were. Sensei Shinmen has raised me ever since, and we’ve travelled to every corner of Othard, laying the groundwork for the Kohai Project.”

“I’m sorry,” Rui Ying replied. “I guess you’ve never had a home either.”

The boy shook his head. "Not until I got here."

"The Blessed Cliffs?"

He nodded. "It's been mine for the past year and now hopefully it can be yours too." Kaijin then got to his feet and offered her a hand. "Welcome home, Rui Ying." he said, as he made the first smile since she had met him.

–

As the duo made their way towards the open kitchens at the back of the pagoda, news of a returning patrol drew them instead to the courtyard. Logistics officers and other sections from the Kohai Project came to receive them. It was only then did the word of Rui Ying’s presence spread like wildfire and met with an excitement that only teenage boys could muster. They couldn’t help but stare at her as if she was some sort of legendary beast, stealing glances and looking away sheepishly when they caught themselves staring. 

The boys returning up the Pilgrim’s Path and beneath the fortress gates were no different, save but one. Instead of gawking at her like the others, he held her gaze for a moment before giving her a short sharp nod of acknowledgement. With side-shaved hair and olive complexion, he stood taller and larger than the rest of the boys giving him the frame to carry a massive ngaw blade staff on his back. Rui Ying’s eyes were then drawn to the armbands on his biceps–pra jiad made from wound multicoloured threads.

"That's Khamhaeng," Kaijin mentioned, noticing her interest. "He's our Section mate."

The handler who led the patrol snapped his fingers repeatedly at the distracted teenagers that he was in charge of. “Oi, oi, oi, stare at the eye candy after the debrief.”

Eye candy.

Rui Ying sighed, and Kaijin continued, not giving her time to dwell on the off-handed slight. "And that's Seri Ram, Kham’s handler. Both are Udayans from the central highlands."

“Udayan?” she said, surprised that they spoke Hingan. But she quickly figured that with all the nationalities present, anyone part of the Kohai Project would need to speak the lingua franca.

The boy nodded as the patrol's debrief commenced. "A peaceful people whose capital was an impenetrable mountain fortress not unlike this one. They were humiliated when the Garleans flew a cruiser over their walls, threatening to bombard them into oblivion and forcing their surrender. They never forgot, even now, a generation on. Now they’re the fiercest fighters in the region.”

When Seri Ram had dismissed the patrol, the boys scattered towards the Southern pagoda and Kaijin stepped forward to introduce the newcomer to his comrade.

"Ram, Kham," he greeted them, pressing his palms together into a wai. "This is Rui Ying, the fourth and final member of Section 0."

The girl bowed her head and attempted to replicate the gesture Kaijin had made. "I look forward to serving with you," she said.

The two Udayans looked at each other and then began to scrutinise her. 

Ram, a young man with tied back hair, began to circle her. "For all of Shinmen's talk about her potential, she doesn't look like much. Far too skinny." the handler appraised her like a war beast, only falling short of checking her teeth.

"There is more to her than physical power," Kaijin stated as if it explained everything.

"I don't doubt that," Kham replied, "but it seems odd to accept a weakling into Section 0."

Rui Ying felt her blood suddenly rise. "Say that again if you want to have your ass handed to you by a 'weakling'," she snapped back before she could stop herself.

Kham looked at his handler, amused by her challenge, and with an unspoken approval between the two of them, Khamhaeng shoved her.

She stumbled at first, caught off guard, but Rui Ying's reflexes quickly took over. Recovering her balance, she fell into a crouch and drew her broadsword before launching herself at the Udayan boy with the flat of her blade.

Kham smiled, pulling at the sash that fastened his bladestaff to his back and respected her attack. Deflecting it with a strong but deft manoeuvre, he let her close the distance between them before shoving her back once more with his shoulder.

Rui Ying caught herself, skidding backwards into a low combat stance and sprung into another attack.

Ram laughed and clapped his hands as he watched his student stumble backwards from the relentlessness of this unexpectedly fierce girl. Others came to observe the source of the commotion while Kaijin simply observed with his arms folded. Ready to intervene should things escalate into bloodletting.

"Strength is merely a fact," Kham said as he struck her with the end of his polearm. She caught the blow with her weapon, but it sent her reeling backwards from the force alone. "Your height, your weight, your physique. You’re a girl. Try as you might, you'll have to admit your weakness sooner or later."

Rui Ying landed. "There are girls far stronger than you ever will be." she said and began circling him, running through everything that Hideshi had taught her about levelling the playing field against a stronger opponent. He was faster than she had given him credit for, skilled too.

Kham simply let her circle him, standing like a statue as he observed the girl curiously for her next move. "Well, I can't wait to meet them. So far they've been lacking. Like you are."

The goad made her snap and before she knew it, she was charging at him from behind. Kham sidestepped her impetuous attack then proceeded to sweep her to the ground with his weapon.

"Alright that's enough," Ram announced, stepping in and waving off both Khamhaeng and the rest of the small crowd that had gathered.

Kham offered a hand to Rui Ying who slapped it away. She didn't want his help. Neither did she want to stroke the boy's ego.

"A feisty introduction, but she's a welcome addition to Section 0 nonetheless." Ram said.

The girl shot daggers at the young man, upset that she had inadvertently been playing some sort of game of the Udayan's design.

Ram studied her for a moment more before confirming this for her benefit. "Shinmen's right, you're quicker than Kaijin. Now if only your blows landed as hard, or hit with the backing of your very soul, you'd reach the potential he claims you have. I'm sure your training will remedy this."

"And a polite conversation wouldn't have been enough to tell me this?" Rui Ying stated, trying her best to quell the simmering anger from the fight.

She noted for a moment how her body flinched, expecting to be struck by a figure like Hideshi. But Ram did no such thing. If anything, he felt like an annoying older brother.

"Politeness has its place. But it is not here, there simply isn't the time. A fight tells so much more." Ram explained. 

Kham spoke. "From our fight, we've already learned that you're easy to rile up, have complete confidence in your abilities, and absolutely cannot take a joke.”

“A joke?” Rui Ying spat.

“The Kohai Project doesn’t accept weaklings. You're fast, relentless, and fight with barely controlled chaos. I look forward to the day you actually do put me on my ass." Kham added before puffing out his chest. “But for now, you ought to respect your betters.”

--

Part 4

Part 6

[thepilgrimofwar]

Effigy

4.

The final climb to the temple complex was done at an almost suicidal incline. Were it not for the chains that had been hammered into the cliff face, it would have been an impossible feat while they were burdened by their weapons and equipment.

“In its heyday, it would have been necessary to abandon your worldly possessions before entering this place,” Kaijin explained to Ruì Yīng as he pulled up each member of the supply train, one by one through a difficult section of trail.

Ruì Yīng looked down at the sheer drop, the ground below disappearing behind the canopy of the Nagxian jungle. “Has anyone fallen?”

Kaijin nodded. “From time to time. Traditionally, the bodies of the fallen would be collected, cleansed, and buried with the blessings of the monks who used to reside here. Their belongings would be treated as donations to the temple. Until recently, the elderly of nearby villages would come here to do just that. So as to not be a burden upon their families and make their final offerings to their Kami.”

“An unnecessary extreme,” Hideshi commented as he too joined to help the others of their party up.

Since their confrontation, he seemed to give Kaijin a modicum of respect despite his open distaste of the Doman boy.

“We walk a pilgrim’s path, Master Sato. I am sure its creators and pilgrims who used it deemed it as necessary as faith itself,” Kaijin retorted as he assisted the stretcher bearers who carried Unconscious Zhāng. The boy regarded the feverish Doman for a moment before continuing, “and faith is a necessary thing, lest we make monsters of ourselves.”

Beyond the final incline sat a temple fortress large enough to be a city. Made from polished volcanic stone, three pagodas stood atop the plateau connected by a massive central courtyard. Around it was a perimeter wall flanked by a cliff face on one side and a sheer drop off the mountain to the other. Though majestic, upon closer inspection, it was clear that these structures were all long past their prime. While one of them seemed pristine given its age, another was overgrown, and the last seemed blackened by an ancient fire. Each of them were missing parts, eaten away by both time and the insatiable jungle.

Waiting at the fortress gates that led into the central courtyard, stood an older Hingan man in a dull coloured hakama. Tucked into the silk sash around his waist were two katanas of similar length, a peculiar sight for the Domans.

As Captain Diệm split off from the party with supplies and Unconscious Zhāng in tow, the trio approached the older man who had come out to welcome them.

Kaijin stepped forth at once to introduce them. “Master-at-Arms Sato Hideshi. Kōhaishi Fù Ruì Yīng.” he announced as a formality, even though they needed no introductions to the very man who had called them here. The boy continued, “my handler, and founder of the Kōhai Project. Sensai Shinmen Takezō.”

“Welcome to Vách đá Thánh. The Blessed Cliffs.” said the older man.

“It is an honour to meet you in the flesh, Kensei.” Hideshi replied, bowing in respect as Ruì Yīng did so as well.

“Kensei?” the alleged sword-saint laughed. “Ah, so my reputation precedes me. Tell me, Master-of-Arms Sato, how is Koshu? It has been a long time since I set foot on the home islands.”

“Endowed with fair winds and following seas, as always.” Hideshi replied.

Shinmen Takezō smiled. “Such things are worth protecting from the Garleans, even if the Shogunate is too short-sighted to see that.”

Hideshi had to bite back his tongue, lest he reprimand his superior for disrespecting the Bakufu. “They only do what they believe is best, and supporting an independent Doma & Nagxia is not desirable.”

“Is it not? Perhaps they do not see the threat Garlemald poses if it consumes the mainland and all its peoples…” the older man said, only to pause when he observed Hideshi’s discomfort. “But no matter, we can discuss matters of national loyalty later, when we speak of your Kōhaishi.” The Sensei then turned to address Ruì Yīng. “You must be the Yanxian girl, from northern Doma. That would make your name 瑞英？ Promising Flower?”

Ruì Yīng nodded, bowing her head in respect. The Sensei hadn’t proved that he wasn’t deserving of it, yet. “Lucky Flower,” she corrected.

“Nay, that betrays the potential you hold,” Sensei Shinmen turned towards the courtyard of polished stone intending to lead them towards the rest of the complex. But when he noticed Ruì Yīng trembling with curiosity, the older man stopped mid-step for her benefit. “Before we begin your tour of the place, tell me, do you have any questions?” he asked graciously.

The girl spoke without hesitation. “Kōhaishi Sawashiro mentioned that I may be the strongest candidate to date. You speak of my potential. But I am nothing more than a competent swordswoman.”

“More than competent,” Hideshi corrected, complimenting her teacher. “But there is much more than mere physical ability to consider.”

“Sato-san is right, there is more to you than just the strength of your sword arm or the sharpness of your mind,” Sensei Shinmen said as he tapped his temple, then brought his hand over his heart.

Ruì Yīng caught on to his gesture, unknowingly placing her own hand over her heart as well. “My aether? But I can barely harness it.”

“You don’t have to. If that was what we sought, you wouldn’t have been selected as a candidate and likely have been trained as a Geomancer.” the Hingan Sensei reassured her, then tapped over her heart. “No, you are here because of your strength of spirit--your strength of soul.”

Ruì Yīng chuckled. “My soul is going to kill Garleans?” Her laughter faded immediately when she saw the older man remained dead serious.

“You can feel the weight of it, can’t you? So much so, that it is difficult to carry?” he asked solemnly, giving her a knowing look.

It was as if someone had asked her to think about breathing, for Ruì Yīng had suddenly become aware of an unspeakable weight; pooling in her centre like a mix of tumultuous emotions.

The Sensei continued. “Like steel, it is both heavy and amorphous in its raw form. Here, under our instruction, you will learn to forge it, hammer it, sharpen it--and if you are lucky--one day you will wield it as tangibly as the blade on your back.”

--

“I am unsure how much Kōhaishi Sawashiro has told you about the Blessed Cliffs,” Sensei Shinmen said as they crossed the courtyard. “But if you would indulge an old man’s passion, I will tell you all about it.” He smiled back at his guests, pretending that they weren’t a captive audience.

“If it is to be our home for the foreseeable future, context would be valuable.” Hideshi replied on behalf of his juniors.

“The scholars of Koshu & Doma have always turned a blind eye to the region. Passing Nagxia off as an unremarkable place of jungles and swamps which has ‘failed to produce a historically significant nation’.” Sensei Shinmen said, as if quoting from a text. “They fail to recognize the rich history that lay outside of their isolationist-centric thinking. Either showing that they do not know, or do not care about the peoples of Nagxia...”

Hideshi nodded. “If these lands were indeed so insignificant, the Garlemald Empire would have ignored it. Nor would it have taken three years to conqueror while Great Dalmasca took one,” he said, buttering up his senior.

“Precisely,” the Sensei said with a grin. “Because Nagxia is not one nation, but several. If they had all united in their cause, I am sure it would have taken them three decades rather than years.”

The group stopped in the middle of the courtyard of polished stone. Ruì Yīng noticed for the first time that the temple complex seemed to be designed in the shape of a flower of carved stone petals and here she stood in the centre of it.

Sensai Shinmen faced them all eastwards. “In ancient times, the Blessed Cliffs were once the seat of power of Nagxia. Like a Lotus facing towards the rising sun, the fortress gate to this once holy place lies to the east. Beyond those are The Summer Highlands and River’s End provinces. Beyond even that, if look carefully enough, you might even make out the Emerald Bay.”

The older man faced the group north, towards a temple guarded by armed members of the Nagxian Liberation Front. “The Northern Pagoda belongs to the resistance sect led by Captain Diệm, whom you already are acquainted with. In exchange for our support in important operations, diplomatic connections, and funding, they provide us food, shelter, and anything else we might require for the project.”

He turned their attention to the structure to the west, blackened by an ancient fire. “The Western Pagoda acts as our warehouse. In the very centre of its walls sits a vault that once housed holy relics, now it houses our supplies and the infirmary. It is likely where Diplomat Zhāng will remain until he defeats his fever, or his fever defeats him.”

Finally, he presented the section of the temple fortress that seemed to be overgrown, so much so that it was like it had been absorbed into the cliff-face behind it. Trees had grown wherever they found purchase, and their roots were beginning to force the ancient stone bricks apart.

“The Southern Pagoda belongs to us,” Sensei Shinmen said, turning to Ruì Yīng as if addressing her specifically. “Here, within these walls we have gathered all the world’s strength:

Local Nagxian warriors from the Sầm Princedoms, Lam Dynasty, Sakya Family, and the Udayan People.

Foreign freedom-loving peoples like yourself from Doma, Indoaya, the Emerald archipelago, and true patriots from Koshu like myself and Master Sato.

All have been gathered here to bring an end to Garelean Expansion through the Kōhai Project.” The Sensai concluded.

Sensing that it was finally her time to speak, Ruì Yīng asked the question that had been burning within her since she had been given to the Doman Liberation Front for this very purpose. “What is the Kōhai Project?”

Her Sensei smiled, almost as if he had planned for her response. “Tell me, what do you know about Yōtō?” he asked.

“Yōtō? Devil Swords?” Ruì Yīng questioned, recalling stories that were told to her brothers when she was younger. Stories of swords that hungered for blood, refusing to be sheathed until they had been sated. She spoke up, “legendary swords, made by a mad swordsmith who had poured all of his violent will into their creation.”

“While Doma may have long lost the artform to forge these blades, I assure you that in Koshu, these swords are not merely Legends,” the Sensei explained. “But we are not creating Yōtō here, instead, Jun-tō. Pure Blades. You see, the secret to smithing is in the intent of their creation. Violence is not the only thing that can be willed into a sword but selflessness, resolve, and the will to resist. The greatest Hingan & Inodayan smiths have gathered here to do just that.”

Ruì Yīng, awe-struck by the revelation, took a long moment to piece together all she had learned so far. “So…the Kōhai Project was made to create these swords?” she asked.

Sensei Shinmen laughed, revelling from the look of wonder in Ruì Yīng’s eyes. “Yes, but more than that, the Kōhai Project was made to teach candidates like yourself how to wield them.”

–

Part 3

Part 5

[thepilgrimofwar]

The Offering

5.

“So, what made you join the Ul’dahn companies?”

Arlyn’s trio of friends all turned to look at him, shining their aetheric torches at him in unison. He had been silent since returning from his talk with Sargeant Naylor despite their best efforts.

“So he can speak,” Nulmhas commented, hefting his warmace over his shoulder and turning his torch back onto the trail to continue with their night patrol. “It’s because I’m good at it I guess.” the roegadyn added, flexing dramatically. “What about you Dac?”

The highlander finished rinsing his mouth of dust and spat. “Get my family out of the slums. That’s the best gift an older brother could give, considering I know jack shit with no skills to my name.” Dac explained before looking at Chira expectantly.

The hyur thought about it for a moment before adding his own story to the conversation. “To do some good. Thought signing up for the companies would be the best way to do that.” Arlyn chuckled. “I wanted to be a hero,” he said, waiting for his friends to join his wry laughter. But they didn’t, so he continued. “Doing the stuff of legend. Facing down hordes of enemies. Smiling in the face of death.”

“Well, you succeeded didn’t you?” Dac said as he tightened the straps of his buckler. “Talk like that is probably how you ended up as one of those crazy bastards from the 5th.”

Arlyn shook his head. “All I succeeded in was not dying.”

“And sometimes that’s enough,” Nulmhas said. “You know better than most how many others can’t say the same.”

Arlyn stopped laughing as he recalled the boys he had gone through bootcamp with, strewn across a foreign ridgeline

Chira spoke up. “Sergeant Naylor told us you were one of the volunteers that took the hill. You say you wanted to be a hero like it was some kind of joke. But do you know how many lives you saved?”

“Ever wonder why no one hazed you when you turned up on your first day?” Dac joined in, as Arlyn seemed to deteriorate. “When you literally ran into our resident roegadyn? Because we knew what you did...But hey, look on the flip side: You’ve already got to play hero, so I guess it’s all downhill from here eh? Eh?”

Arlyn gritted his teeth as they followed their Corporal through the well-worn paths of the Crags, walking the perimeter of 3rd Company's camp. Tears rolled down his cheeks past his glasses as his friends looked away, unsure of what else to do.

“All my life I’ve just wanted to do the right thing. Just like they always did in the stories of old: Protect the weak. Uphold justice. And if necessary, sacrifice myself for the greater good. That’s not why we’ve come here, is it? we’re here to line the pockets of the Syndicate. We all died for a lie.”

The trio frowned, realizing whom the boy was referring to. Arlyn had never grieved for them, not really, and it was starting to show.

“But not for nothing.” Chira said, falling in step with his friend. “You did good. You all did. Sure, perhaps we’re all fighting to enrich the Syndicate. But seriously, what doesn’t line their pockets?” He looked Arlyn in the eyes. “Fighting so others don’t have to? Dying to save your fellow man? That’s the greater good right there. That counts. What you do right here--even if it doesn’t get immortalized in some dusty book--it all counts. 

Arlyn’s friends stopped to face him.

“We’re the tally.”

[thepilgrimofwar]

Effigy

3.

They walked in back silence.

Her hands shook.

Anxiety pooled in her chest.

Different scenarios played out in her head, none of them ending well. Though she could scarcely comprehend the suffering that she had narrowly avoided, her imagination filled in the details and images of it all. They echoed inside her mind, amplified further by her fears.

“You should never leave your weapon,” said Sawashiro, speaking up suddenly and tearing Ruì Yīng away from herself and straight into a rage.

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do.” she spat. “And why are you here? I told you not to follow me.”

The boy stayed quiet, knowing it was better to allow himself to be lashed out at than leave the girl to the mercy of her thoughts.

“Congratulations, I guess, you got to be the big fucking hero you wanted to be,” she jeered mockingly. “I hope that made you feel big and strong.”

“I’m just glad I got there in time,” Sawashiro said quietly.

His refusal to rise to her viciousness threw her off. She was used to the antagonism of Hideshi, and had expected a verbal backhand for her vitriol. But instead all she got was guilt. It seeped through her temper and she stormed ahead of him.

Tears welled in her eyes–tears of anger, frustration, and of hate. Hate at the stupid boy trying to correct her. Hate at how powerless she felt. Hate that she was numb about cutting those men to pieces, denied the sense of justice and vindication that she felt she deserved.

Ruì Yīng stopped in her tracks, and while looking up at a star filled sky between a break in the jungle canopy, let everything wash over her. She wanted to scream but found herself unable to do so. Instead, almost reflexively, she simply swallowed it all.

“Sorry,” she mustered knowing that the boy didn’t deserve her ire. All the world had been hostile to her up to this point, but the boy at least had seemed genuine.

"I had suspicions when Zhāng left the rest area soon after you did, and after finding that other members of your crew had joined him, I came as fast as I could…I had assumed the worst." said Sawashiro, glancing back towards their slaughtering ground. "I’ll inform the guards at the outpost of what happened here. That there are criminals on the run who need to be hunted down and that medical aid is required for a man who is now missing his manhood.”

Ruì Yīng was about to let the boy pass her by as he made his way towards the clearing, but forced herself to swallow her pride as well. “Wait,” she said, bowing her head slightly. "For...what you did back there. Thank you, Sawashiro. Truly."

The boy paused, looking back at her before and bowing his head in kind. "Kaijin," he said. "My name is Kaijin."

-

Kaijin. Kai. Jin.

Ruì Yīng rolled the characters of his name over the tip of her tongue. One at a time. Together. Trying to make sense of it with the Hingan-kanji that she knew. But it never felt right no matter how she premutated it, because Kaijin wasn't a name of a person, but a thing.

灰燼。 Ashes. Remains. Devastation.

He said it wasn’t a title, but his birth name. What sort of parents would give such a name to a child? But if they were such poor parents, why had he kept his family name? There wasn’t enough time to get the answers she wanted before they arrived back at the waystation, where Hideshi paced angrily.

A commotion sparked by the events that transpired had already begun echoing its way through the caves and the outpost was now bustling with activity. Scouting parties were being deployed to hunt the criminals who had fled. A Nagxian necessity to both dispense justice and ensure the absolute secrecy of the waystation.

"What the fuck did you do?!" the man sneered as he grabbed Sawashiro by the collar of his uniform.

The boy didn't flinch. "My duty. I protected her."

"By killing our porters? By mutilating Diplomat Zhāng?" Hideshi growled. "You’ve jeopardised our mission here, you insolent piece of shit!"

“Rapist Zhāng,” Ruì Yīng corrected.

Hideshi paused at the corruption of the man's title. "Rapist?"

Kaijin nodded. "Fortunately, it only describes his intentions. Not his actions nor the ones of the mob he led."

"And it wasn’t Sawashiro that hurt him," Ruì Yīng added, “I was just making good on that promise I made.”

"You have overstepped!" her mentor rebuked her, snapping back into his role. "This is bigger than you! You've just dashed the chances of a United Liberation Front, and the war effort as a whole."

“Overstepped? Would you have preferred it if they had violated me? Am I part of their oh-so-important mission?”

“No- It-”

“Now I'm at fault because Rapist Zhāng couldn't keep his little dick in his pants?!" Ruì Yīng shouted for all the outpost to hear. While they didn’t understand Doman, it was clear what was being said.

Hideshi looked away, shamefaced, and for the first time since Ruì Yīng had met the man, the Master-of-Arms seemed to falter. She was shocked at his acquiescence as her handler released the boy from his grip.

“No, no, you’re right.” said Hideshi, attempting to process that despite all of his vigilance, despite all of the sacrifices he forced upon his charge, he had still failed himself.

As Hideshi clenched his fist and re-steeled his resolve, he watched as Zhāng was carried into the clearing on a stretcher. The diplomat had passed out from the blood loss but it seemed likely that he was going to survive this, even if his dignity didn’t.

“I won’t let this happen again,” Hideshi stated quietly but firmly, turning towards his ward. “You are to tell me whenever you leave your area of rest, and I will escort you.”

Ruì Yīng baulked. This was his response to everything that had just happened? This was his solution? “Absolutely not,” she protested.

“This is not a request!” Hideshi raised his voice.

“And neither is this! I am fucking sick of it! Of you watching my every move and listening to everything I utter under my every breath. Now you want to come along whenever I take a piss as well?”

“Yes, you stupid child,” her handler sneered, “we’ve spoken about this, and considering what just happened, it is clear this is a necessity!”

Noticing that the hands of both parties had been subconsciously drifting towards their weapons, Kaijin stepped forward, interposing himself between the two of them. “If she’s acceptable to the idea. I’ll go with her in the future,” the boy offered.

"You stay away from her. She’s mine to protect.”

Ruì Yīng spat. “Am I property now?”

“Not property, responsibility. My responsibility. But what would a child know about that? If you think I ought to treat you like property instead, then maybe I should!” Hideshi moved to strike Ruì Yīng but before he could connect, Kaijin had blocked him.

“Move.” Hideshi pushed against their locked forearms. “As your superior, I order you to stand down and get out of the way.”

Kaijin stood his ground, meeting the older man’s strength with his own. “I was taught that if the orders given out by my superiors are ever wrong, I have a duty to disobey them.”

“That is both dangerous and unacceptable,” Hideshi growled. “Now step aside, or I’ll make you.”

The boy’s other hand hovered over one of the hilts of his Daab. "I have orders to protect her," Kaijin stated. "Even from you."

It was only then did Hideshi notice his grip on the hilt of his Katana, and the Master-of-Arms snapped back to his senses. Realising how far things had escalated, he stepped backwards slowly. “Orders from Sensai Shinmen?”

Kaijin nodded, then looked the man in the eyes and spoke with an almost righteous conviction. “Kill me if you must, but know that I am Shinmen’s blade. A tool--an instrument--to Doma’s liberation. Sensei Shinmen has determined that Ruì Yīng, your ward, is key to it.”

-

At daybreak the Doman party continued the harsh trek up towards the Blessed Cliffs. Taking the place of the Doman crew & volunteers were men from the National Liberation Front. Unlike those she had begun her journey with, these men kept their eyes to themselves, focused only on the task at hand. They carried supplies on their backs and Zhāng by stretcher, who had since taken a fever since leaving the waystation.

In the days that followed, they ascended the mountains that marked the boundary between River’s End province and the Summer Highlands. Captain Diệm informed them that Garlean patrols often ended their jurisdiction here. It was too troublesome to manage without unreasonable costs to their colonial coffers and too far from any of the Cerulean Mines that powered their Imperial war machine.

Kaijin marched beside Ruì Yīng, an allowance granted by Hideshi after their confrontation at the outpost. She welcomed his company even though it annoyed her that the boy spoke like a Nagxian monk. But that was a small compromise she gladly accepted. After spending three long years training exclusively under her handler she had been starved of proper conversation and it was pleasant to finally have someone else around her age to speak to.

Between short and stilted exchanges with her new friend, Ruì Yīng found herself marvelling at the natural landscape of Nagxia. Watching rays of sunlight piercing the canopy that shielded the pilgrim’s road, she thought there was something noble about the jungles that surrounded her. While it was as hostile and inhospitable as Kaijin had claimed, there was an understated beauty to it.

Life here refused to be snuffed out, instead, it etched out an existence regardless if conditions were ideal or not, because the only alternative life had was to die. The offspring of those too stubborn to die would continue on while everything else eventually returned to mulch, feeding the next generation of survivors. It was a physical manifestation of the philosophy where only the strongest survive.

She turned towards the boy next to her. “So, I’m the strongest candidate there is huh?” Ruì Yīng asked as they began cresting a jungled slope they had been traversing all day.

“Sensei Shinmen believes so, yes.”

“Do you think so?” Ruì Yīng said, “you fought beside me that night, you know there’s nothing special about what I can do.”

Kaijin paused for a long moment. “I think there’s more to you than you know.”

Ruì Yīng laughed. “And what does that mean?”

“There’s a fire in you miss Fù. A fire that may burn you and everything around you.” said Kaijin, as if he were giving her a riddle to solve.

“Right,” the girl didn’t press him, knowing that she’d get nowhere.

“Sorry, Sensai Shinmen can explain it far better than I can.” Kaijin apologised before gesturing towards Captain Diệm. “You’ll have your answers soon enough.”

The Nagxian Captain stood at the crest of the hill, “above.” he said in Doman.

The undergrowth of the pilgrim’s road retreated away revealing a massive temple complex atop a distant plateau. It seemed part of the mountain itself, overgrown and camouflaged in foliage; it was as if the jungle had begun taking back what was hers.

“Is that our destination?” asked Hideshi and Kaijin stepped in to translate.

“Indeed,” said the Captain through Kaijin. “All the greatest smiths of Koshu, Mandara and the Emerald Strait. All the greatest minds of those who oppose Garemald. And all the greatest warriors from all over Othard. They’ve gathered in this place for your Project. I hope it bears fruit.” -- Part 2 Part 4

[thanidiel]

Prompt Seventeen: "Destruct"

When you destroy something, you have to cut off something else.

It’s cheesy, but it’s true.

I don’t mean that in the way that the tropes spell it - your grandfathers and your wisewomen who don’t want you to have that certain power. I don’t mean it like you’ll lose yourself to it, like you’ll just go on with your little life and die in a little scraped-up ball of impotent rage in a razed field— I don’t mean it like those insipid little metaphors.

I mean it like it takes some fuel.

It takes a pinch of effort to break someone’s orbital to fucking bits, squeeze that tiny brace of bone in their necks so that they swell and pop. It takes a bullet to load that fucking gun, like how, sometimes, it just takes a little part of you to fuck someone’s night up.

I could have just drank.

I could have just lied.

I could have smiled, too, a less bloody one, when you think about the things I could have done in that moment.

But I didn’t fucking want to.

When you’re passive, you should only be so because you made the calculation that it just didn’t fucking matter.

That you had better things to cut yourself up over.

Not because it’s polite. Not because you want everyone to forget about this moment and move on, this moment that gets you in that forgeheart of your temper - right there, right hemisphere of your fucking chest, concentrated in that last rib you could just rip out of yourself. I don’t fuck with that sort of shit— not when you get on me like that with your stupid smiles.

Frankly?

I don’t want this to be an ephemeral moment for everyone but me.

I never want you to fucking forget.

And that’s easy to fucking do.

All it takes is a little part of me.

It doesn’t hurt, it’s nothing more than a clipping of my nail, a peel of skin already dead, white, and vacant.

But I’ll make it fucking hurt for you.

I’ll make you feel bad.

I’ll make you pause for at least one fucking bell of your life and wonder all of the morbid shit that everyone wonders and no one says: How bad was it? Was it just your feet? Was it in your legs, your knees, your hips? Did it shock up your body the way that you can snap a tree in two with that right hit along the grain? Were you a kid? Did you do anything else? Was it dirty? How many times? Who did this?

I’ll smear myself on you like a haunting.

I’ll stain you so you throw yourself away.

[thepilgrimofwar]

“I’ll smear myself on you like a haunting. I’ll stain you so you throw yourself away.“

[ampervadasz]

Unmute !

[runby2]

Just testing out some sounds

[sword-and-nightingale]

Oh! He’s feeling B O N K Y today

[thickness-protection-program]

“you feeling bonky today”

[thepilgrimofwar]

@retributionpriest

[thepilgrimofwar]

The Offering

3.

Arlyn fiddled with his reassignment papers in one hand and carried his dufflebag of personal belongings in the other. It was a long climb to the new basecamp that the Ul’dahn Honor Guards had established as they continued their push deeper into the Sagolii Highlands.

He had been thinking through what Sargeant Naylor had told him the week before. That perhaps there had been a major miscalculation of cosmic proportions. He believed--no, he knew--that there was always a blood price that had to be paid. The nobler the blood, and more righteous the cause, the cheaper that blood price got. But why did the veteran’s words have a ring of truth to it? Would his friends from basic training, who had sacrificed themselves upon the altar of war, done more good if they had lived instead? Could they have saved more lives otherwise?

Was there another way?

Arlyn walked face first into a line of men in front of a field kitchen.

“Apologies I-”

“Don’t sweat it blondie,” said one of them, dusting himself off and checking if any of the desert dust had gotten onto his steel mess tray. “You’re from the 5th?”

“Yes, reassigned.” Arlyn said sheepishly, still embarrassed by his lack of awareness. This wasn’t like him.

“Welcome to 3rd Company,” continued the boy with brilliant green eyes. “I’m Chira, that’s Dac and the roegadyn is Nulmhas.”

The taller roegadyn gave him a grin. “Guess you’re our squaddie, eh?”

“Pardon?”

“Sarge Naylor told us you were coming,” said Dac, a highlander with black windswept hair. “Blonde. Glasses. Dumb look on his face. One Private Mercer?”

“Just Arlyn, please.” the boy replied as Nulmhas hooked his elbow round the back of his neck and yanked him into the mess line to the protests of others behind them.

“Got your mess tray? Of course you don’t.” The roegadyn snatched one from a hissing miqo'te behind them and shoved it into Arlyn’s hands, who in turn handed it back to the miqo’te.

The boy produced a steel cup instead. “I’ll use this.” he said, trying his best not to meltdown in front of his new squad mates. They were undisciplined, uncouth, and worst of all, friendly to him. It’d make it much harder for him to die upon the altar of war that he loved so much. It was easier with his friends from basic training--instead of closeness, there had merely been an understanding between them. It was an understanding that transcended the petty emotional bonds that this new lot of mates were attempting to establish.

4.

“Orders from on high,” Sergeant Naylor appeared at the entrance of the squad’s desert tent--one large enough to fit eight bunk beds and an armory in the back. “Our platoon is patrolling the Crags tonight, so I want everyone ready to move by sun down.”

“Yes Sergeant,” their corporal said with a short, sharp nod.

“Private Mercer,” Naylor raised his voice, spying the new addition to his unit at the back of the tentage. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Hope it isn’t trouble,” Chira whispered to Arlyn as he left the group to join the veteran outside. Around him was the bustling activity of a typical Ul’dahn mercenary camp, albeit with a touch more discipline and order. Blacksmiths and auxiliary camp followers filled the air with the sounds of a small city as the smells of food came wafting in from the field kitchens, allegedly staffed by Ul’dah’s finest stewmakers.

“How’re you fitting in?” The veteran asked as he walked, headed towards the smell of freshly baked bread.

“Good, Sergeant.”

“Drop the formal bullshit Arlyn, I’m asking as Drugan.” the man shot back as he counted the coins of his pouch.

Arlyn cleared his throat. “Like a square peg in a circular hole,” he said. “They’re a little too friendly for my taste.”

“Taste?” Drugan Naylor squinted at the boy he rescued from the ridge all those weeks ago. “What the bloody hell does taste have to do with anything?”

“It’s hard to fit in, when no one believes in what we’re doing here.”

“And what are we doing here exactly?” Drugan asked, not looking back.

“Saving lives,” Arlyn parroted, like he had done so many times before. “Fighting for the freedom of Ul’dah’s citizens. For the right of the locals to live in peace.”

“Uh huh,” the man paid a lalafell baker for a loaf of bread. “Have you ever wondered where freedom comes from?”

Arlyn cocked his head at his involuntary mentor. “What?”

“Does it grow on freedom trees? In freedom groves? Kept by freedom farms? Where does freedom come from?” Drugan wagged his loaf of bread at him.

“The state--The City State of Ul’dah,” Arlyn said, correcting himself to speak in context.

“Wrong.” Drugan smacked him on the head with his makeshift teaching aid. “The City State of Ul’dah takes freedom away. It doesn’t give freedom.”

“Nonsense. Merchants come from all over Eorzea to trade and resettle within its borders. The lands are kept safe by people like us and they’re free to settle where they see fit.” Arlyn folded his arms. “Sure, some things are criminalized, but that’s a necessity.”

“Sure, okay,” Drugan nods and takes a bite out from his purchase. “But have you ever questioned where all that land came from?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Centuries ago, on the founding of Ul’dah by its first Sultan, whose land was it? It wasn’t Ul’dahn, Ul’dah didn’t exist. Who did he have to conquer before it became what it is today?”

“His brother. Before it was Ul’dahn, it was Belah'dian land, it was only after the succession war did--”

“You’re missing the point Arlyn,” Drugan interrupted the boy, clearly not implying any historical value to his question. He sighed. “Who do we serve Arlyn?”

“Ul’dah--”

“Try again.”

“The people--”

“We serve Dorodimilio Lamilio.” Drugan said as he took another bite. “The Ul’dahn Honor Guards fight to expand the borders of the Lamilios. That is why we are here.”

“And if the Lamilios expand Ul’dah’s influence, granting the people who resettle here wealth, peace, and prosperity, are we not serving Ul’dah or its people?” Arlyn retorted.

“They really make them different in the cities don’t they?” Drugan mumbled to no one in particular. “Look Arlyn, you see those mountains?” The veteran gestured to all of the Sagolii Highlands before them. Beautiful mountain peaks, wreathed in clouds, and far away valleys that hid gems and fertile soil in its crevices. “Do you suppose those are uninhabited? Empty? Just waiting for us to come settle them?”

“Yes but--”

“Who do you think we’re fighting Arlyn?” the man looked him in the eyes and for once, Drugan genuinely waited for the boy to respond.

Who are we fighting?

[maxwelldotexe]

[thepilgrimofwar]

@retributionpriest​