Descendant

The world was too bright, the sun beat down with a force Felicias had never experienced before. His insides were twisted with anxiety and he knew not why. His head pounded as he stood in the center of a field known as Roht Valley.

In that Valley there was nothingness. A wide expanse of packed ground, flat and shimmering in the harsh light of day. No plants, no birds, not even insects would inhabit it. From that field you could see the Imperial Palace. Its shadows in the distance wavered, a demon taunting Felicias in his discomfort.

Hungry, Felicias took a single step towards the Imperial City. From the ground below his feet, thousands of wilted hands burst through the dry cracked earth. Felicias gasped, taking a step back as a thousand more broke through, dragging bodies from the blackness below. The sky twisted at the edge of his vision, warping around him until it blended into the shadows taking form.

[His palms burned as he focused on his center. The weight of his body on his hands pushed him to exertion, and yet Felicias was not done. Adjusting his stance, he allowed the feeling of weightlessness to consume him again.]

Twisted arms pulled at dust covered heads and torsos. Around him, Felicias watched as men - soldiers, heaved themselves out of their endless graves. Felicias spun violently, terror burning the back of his throat. He ran, picking a spot where clear ground reflected the warped sky above.

[The pulse of his blood rushed loudly in his ears, keeping in time with the thundering feeling of his feet striking hard, packed earth. Someone was calling for him, but the roaring in his ears blurred out their words. The sky changed to a bleary blue as Felicias blinked back the dryness itching at his eyes. A frenzied energy raced through his mind. Felicias inhaled deeply, focusing on his center once again. He flexed the muscles in his wrists and arms, the tautness sending another stab of pain up past his shoulder blades. Pushing past his own discomfort Felicias allowed his mind sink back into the vision.]

He couldn't help but look back once more. The army had emerged dressed like Commonfolk. Each head of orange and red hair was a burning flame against his dry eyes. Blood and dirt caked their bodies in ugly streaks that screamed against the hollow pain in his chest

They stood in even lines, swords and spears held to their sides. As one they moved just their heads so that they could look at Felicias.

"General Moore," A soldier standing in the center of the front row spoke up. "Run, they are coming."

"No," Felicias shook his head. He could not run, he could not leave his people. "No, Ah wull bade ." Something was off within Felicias, but he could not pinpoint it. His vision blurred before over correcting itself.

"The Sunla betrayed us. There is nothing left to fight for." The soldier spoke again and at his last word the army turned forward and raised their weapons dust falling off of their uniforms.

"I..." They wanted him, Felicias knew it. They wanted him dead more than they wanted anything else. The Sunla and Imperial armies approached and Felicias knew in his heart that the battle was lost. "Live, Lusaft. Taken care our men." Turning Felicias walked towards General Peking. His oldest friend. His greatest betrayer. "Let my men go home, Hi. They were following a blind hope."

"And then what? What, you'll give yourself up?" General Peking's laughter cracked across Felicia's face. Images of Hi Peking laughing after telling a terrible joke assaulted Felicias sense and the sting of deception was like a knife in his back.

Dropping to his knees, Felicias dropped his head and waited for the sword to fall on his neck, but it did not come. Several of Hi Peking's men grabbed him, tying his hands behind his back.

"Archer's ready!"

It was too late, Felicias realized that the entire front half of the Sunla army was nothing but archers.

"Hi! Hi, DON'T DO THIS. DO NOT DO THIS." Felicias roared as he fought at the binds to no release. "For the sake of the past, do not do this." He was not a begging man - but there was no place for pride when slaughter was at hand.

"Fire!" Arrows blocked out the sun and Felicias waited for his men to run - to flee, but instead they dropped to one knee and bowed their heads. "Fire!" A wave of arrows fell from the sky and landed on the Rebel Army killing all who were left. "Fire!" The arrows kept coming until his entire army was so covered Felicias couldn't make out their bodies.

"Before I kill you, E'binar," Hi Peking crouched in front of his friend. "Your wife and sons are dead. The Moore line is over. This revolution, is over."

"The revolution will never be over - Hi. Just as my great-grandfather came for your Emperor, my great-grandson will come for you. I pray you live a long life. I pray many blessings on you." Felicias choked on his own laughter. His wife and oldest sons may be dead, but his daughters were not. His youngest son lived. His sisters were well hidden on pirate ships all over the world. His nieces were healthy and strong. "The Moore line will come for you, Peking. You and your fucking emperor."

"And when they do, we will slaughter every Commoner until there is nothing but decay left in the place of your so-called justice." Infuriated, Peking lifted his sword high above his head and Felicias laughed maniacally, he had faith in his blood.

The blade came down swiftly.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

"FELICAS." Butler shook him violently. "What happened?" Blinking, Felicias realized that he was lying in the center of Gun's platform, nausea rolled through him. Professor Gun stood at the edge appearing pale and stricken. Coughing, Felicias tried to speak, but blood gushed out of his mouth. He tried to shake the weight from his forehead and vomited more blood.

Butler yanked his jaws apart and grabbed his tongue. "You didn't bite your tongue... Gun?"

"I - don't. Titen, He was meditating in the descendant pose and he began - screaming-" Gun crossed the platform to crouch next to Butler. "He was screaming that," Gun dropped his voice to a whisper even though there was no one around them. "...that the Moore line was coming for the Emperor."

"He's too young for the descendant pose."

"I didn't think... It's so rare for an ancestor to reach out so thoroughly."

"What ancestor? He's a descendant of an Emperor - not a vagabond."

Professor Gun shook his head, "No. He is a Moore. He may be more than that, but he is a Moore. No one will ever know."

Withering in pain Felicias felt as if his neck had been severed, but something nagged at him to stand. Struggling to his feet Felicias spit blood out of his mouth and raised the palms of his hands to the sky. The roaring in his ears continued and his body wavered. When Gun had mentioned the descendant pose, Felicias had jumped at the opportunity to connect with the past. Now that he had begun, he could not turn back.

"Felicias, sit down. We need to take you to a healer." Butler went to force Felicias to sit, but Felicias stepped to the side, evading his servant. It was time. He placed both of his hands on the ground and lifted his legs straight up, keeping his ankles together. Once he found his center he let his legs pull behind him.

"...and he's back in Descendant. Well, can't interrupt him now." Gun sat down and stared at Felicias's face. Irritated, Felicias closed his eyes, fully expecting to find out what happened to the Moore family.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

His armour was heavy, but necessary. The Blue Army was cruel in their tactics. Over a hundred of his men had gone missing the night before. And those that were left were missing limbs. Nevertheless, Felicias persevered. He would fight off the Blue Army by himself if he had to. He knew they were coming for him next.

Felicias slept all day, ignoring the pages that came to deliver bad news. When night came he planted himself in the center of his tent without any armour. He was not the one to surrender - Felicias would never surrender.

They came quietly, the fire illuminating their white hair and demon blue eyes. The first warrior was a woman, familiar enough that Felicias knew she held importance. He didn't care. He would never surrender.

She struck first, a small blade in her hand. Patiently, Felicias waited until the blade was close enough to his mark that he was able to snatch her wrist with one hand and snap her neck with his other. She fell dead at his feet. The night was too long for mercy. The other assassins were thrown off by the sudden death of their mission leader.

Grabbing her stiletto, Felicias threw it into another's throat. Another attacker came behind him, however they misstepped and Felicias used that to his advantage, lifting them over his head and dropping them spine first onto his knee. The last one ran and Felicias let him go. He was done with the rules of war. He'd had enough maimed men. Enough dead men. He was done with retreat.

Exiting his tent, Felicias found that one of the stable boys was surrounded by a pile of Glacerien bodies. The young man panted as he held a bloody sword. His red hair reflecting the fires around them. The world was skewed. The fires danced too much, his breath was too loud in his ears. It wasn't over yet.

"We advance." Felicias reached for a sword and the stable boy joined him. Together they ran at a steady pace to where the Blue Army rested. The encampment had been cocky, for even their dogs were full of food and asleep. Felicias continued his run straight into their General's tent. He'd lost the stable boy at some point, but what did it matter? In his rage he took the head of General Norkal. Leaving the tent he saw that the stable boy had killed every guard that was on watch and piled their bodies in the center. "What's yer name?"

"Alabaster Moore."

Grunting, Felicias jogged back to his camp, the stable boy matching him step for step. He personally liked Commoners, he found them to be hard workers. Felicias wished that the Commoners would abandon the Commons and move closer to his city. A city he helped repair with his bare hands.

"Here," Alabaster Moore passed Felicias a spear and together they planted the heads of their dead enemies outside their camp.

"They will attack at dawn." Felicias predicted, Alabaster snorted.

"They'll not be back for years. They have no leader."

"His daughter will gather more troops."

"Nay - his daughter's head rests next to his."

Felicias realized the neck he had broken at the beginning of his night had been Princess Alacies. He grumbled.

"We are victorious, Emperor Vslag." Alabaster Moore grinned.

"I am but a king."

"Nay - you are Emperor of the four provinces. The only thing left for you to conquer is the sea." The stable boy snickered.

"Emperor? I quite like that." Felicias roared his triumph awakening his camp as the sun rose, revealing the heads of their conquered enemy.

"Hail mighty Emperor Vslag!" Alabaster Moore shouted and the camp chanted with him. "Hail! Hail! Hail!"

The world was black and Felicias was sure he that this time he was dead. He could not taste anything. There were no smells, no sounds. Nothing but darkness. Lost, he sat down and waited - for what he did not know.

After some time E'binar Moore became visible in the distance. At first, Felicias mistook him for Butler, but E'Binar was much smaller than his descendant. From the other direction came Emperor Xo Vslag. The two met in the middle and curiosity forced Felicias to stand and get a closer look.

"You betrayed us." E'Binar snarled at Xo.

"You betrayed yourselves!" Xo growled back and they moved closer. "How long did you expect the palace to hold your hands? To coddle you?"

"We bothered none!" E'binar shoved Xo back. "We harmed none!"

"You took from the other provinces and gave nothing in return!" Xo pushed back at E'binar.

"What else is there to give in the Commons? We gave laborers. We gave tradesmen." E'binar drew his sword and Xo matched him.

"Precisely. You traded people for goods. How could you not see the error in that. How could you still expect more payment, Moore?" Metal clashed several times.

"We are so much more than the goods - WE PAID FOR." E'binar threw his sword and punched Xo across his face.

"You created the idea that people were worth trade and commerce - no one else. Dig yourself out!" Xo hit E'binar with an uppercut. Both men spit blood and circled each other.

"I can fix it." Felicias felt like a babe next to the warriors of his past. "I can fix the Commons." His ancestors stopped pacing and faced him. "I can free the Commoners."

"If you think that is all that is wrong -" Xo began.

"Then you are sorely mistaken." E'binar finished. "Return to my heir. He's worried about you."

"Am I not you heir?" Wounded, Felicias forced back tears. "Am I not of your blood?"

"Nay - boy. You are more than the heir to one blood. So you are nay his, nor mine." Xo ruffled Felicias's hair.

"Who am I?"

His ancestors guffawed at Felicias's question.

"Well now -" E'binar began.

"Isn't THAT a good question?" Xo finished.