1 Prologue: The Declaration

Asher

I grimace as my eyes move over the razed village. Debris and ash painting a desolate picture across the soil, and the framework of what had once been cottages and homes served as a sooty skeleton to the now lifeless place. This hadn't been an accident by any means - infact, it couldn't have been any less than an act of war.

As I stared at the remains, I knew at once that no one had been spared - no one had been left alive. If the panorama didn't serve as proof enough of that, the lack of noise surely did. The quiet was certainly eerie, as it was a definite promise of horror-the calm before storm, as it were. The only sound that could be heard was the steady breathing of the horses. Several soldiers mounted atop them, gazing outward-spectators to the destruction.

"Asher," one man finally spoke out, Rowan spoke out, calling the attention of his friend and general. My eyes snap over to find Rowan. My eyes zero in on the younger soldier, who resumed speaking once he was certain. "This is the third village that has been attacked as of late. We have to respond with force we have to take action, real action, else the whole countryside is gonna look just like this right here."

I say nothing in response. Instead, i turn back around to the view. Rowan starts talking again, but  I throw up a hand to silence him.

Now, closing my eyes I do my best to collect my thoughts. What Rowan has said isn't wrong. Something indeed has to be done - something more than we were doing at present, or more innocent people were doomed to die. Gods damn it, how had it come to this? Clenching my teeth I say several choice curses under my breath.

My horse whined beneath me now, impatient at the stillness or perhaps nervous to the atmosphere, causing me to reopen my eyes and set my lips into a hard frown. "My reports say that there's been activity at the Vastian border," I tell them.

"I'll send out more scouts as soon as possible to try and glean more information. But what about the rumors? Are we dealing with the country as a whole or otherwise? I need a report-anything that any of you can give me to go on." As I speak, I jerk lightly on the

reigns to keep my increasingly uncooperative mount still.

There was no answer for a moment as the Red Warriors debated what was was asked of them. "Rumors have indeed spread, general. They say that the attacks lay at hands of the Vastians. " The response came from over to the left.

I cut my eyes immediately to look over at the who had answered. Phoenix, one of the rouge twins. With white hair and matching his twin what distinguished him from his twin were his eyes. A cold glacial blue that belong solely to the Libarians.

The only thing I really know about the Vastian was that 10 years ago, before my promotion to general they invaded Elydia and slaughtered many villages similar to this one here but my father soon laid them to rest and their traitorous king was executed and replaced by someone loyal to the Emperor.

Another question left my lips, directed at Phoenix. "How did you come about this information?"

"Mostly talk," he answered, "Last time this happened, a couple of militia found their symbol carved into one of the posts. As it stands, my sources are unverified, but perhaps it's something to consider."

"It is indeed that," I concede. "Very well. For assumption's sake, let us say that this group of Vastian soldiers are indeed at fault for the attacks on our villages; what does that mean for us?"

Quietly one in the back answers,"War. It means war and death." Looking I find it to be Draco, Phoenix's twin, his sad green eyes meeting mine.

A moment later, I leap from my horse. When my feet hit the ground, a tiny puff of ash fills the air, subsequently making the animal snort in annoyance. Cutting my eyes at the animal, deciding somewhere in the back of my mind that I should've brought a better horse to come along with me.

I gaze once more at the wreckage. "We should see what's left before any decision is made." Though I know that there is nothing left, I figure that there is no harm in fully scouting the area. Perhaps we' d be so lucky to find solid evidence on who had done this - or perhaps on why they had done this merciless thing.

In the next moment, the other Red Warriors present dismount alongside me, their boots hitting the ground in a soft series of thuds.

Suddenly, the air around us was thickly polluted, causing half of us to cough and clear our throats. When it all stilled, I spoke again."Forward then." I keep my face expressionless and begin walking towards what had presumably once been the heart of the little village.

The sights and gods, the smells, are especially macabre at the edge of

the town, where charred bones litter the ground like recycled parchment and singed corpses lay motionless, permeating the air with the smell of burnt and rotting decay. Needless to say, we move fast through the area - finding the sights hardly improved further in.

And then, we reach the center of the destruction. "General..."  Rowan's voice trembles behind me. I look  back at him to find that he was pointing at something.  Confused at first, but following his finger to a sight that sends chills throughout my body and a deep-rooted fear straight through my bones.

A horde of blood-painted bodies lay ever-still in a pile in the market square, covered in feeding vultures and writhing in maggots. These bodies were not burnt like the others had been. On top of the mound of carcasses, there is a child, dead-speared straight through the heart. Her head lolled over in such a way that it faces us. Her dead eyes staring directly at us, cold and unseeing - almost damning us for letting the

village die.

Tears finally clouded my eyes at the little girll's last expression - a silent scream. "What could anyone possibly gain frorm this?" My voice is strained as I speak to the others.

Silence is the only appropriate response. "Should I remove her from the spear, Asher?" Rowan's

voice was brusque as he spoke. And still, his proud shoulders were squared and erect. Even in the light of the horde, Rowan portrays no weakness -no emotion.

Meanwhile I could not help but hope my voice would not crack - would not betray my strong front when I speak again. "If you will."

With a curt nod, Rowan walks forward, swinging his arms ever so lightly as he makes his way over toward the dead girl. With a swift pull, she slides off the upturned wood with a sick splash. A few vultures fly off the pile - startled at its sudden movement. I notice

the blood was still wet against the spear. She hadn't been dead for long.

Rowan hoists the girl in his arms and brings her over to me, I look over the body for any evidence. "And yet there is no sign of who performed this treachery." I speak mainly to myself now.

For another moment, I look again over the girl's frightened features -over her clothes and skin. In some

cases, the attackers would leave a symbol. This was not one of those cases, however, as her body is indeed void of any incriminating insignias. I will  need to send out scouts to find more information.

Rowan simply watches as I mildly pick at the body. And then, when he was sure I was finished, he asks a question.

"What do you wish me to do with her?" I think of bringing her back to the army camp and giving her a proper funeral, but after a moment of thought, the idea seemed ridiculous. None of the men here could afford to strap a corpse to them on the journey - nor did any of the men desire to.

"Set her down, it's time we leave here," I say regrettably. How I hate to leave her, just rotting there. Rowan follows the instruction and gently lays her down before going back to join the others.

"Go to the horses and ready them to leave," I instruct. Listening as the entire entourage walk away from the scene.

When the sound of footsteps fade from the area entirely, I take  the

time to kneel beside the girl and stroke her hair - as if it would

somehow comfort her. After a few seconds, I quietly remove a red

ribbon from the inner pocket of my uniform.

It had been given to me as a small token of my importance when I was first sworn in as general, but I've never really found use of it before. Tying it in the best bow I can manage, I lay it over the girl's open mouth as a symbol of sympathy. Afterward, I clos her lifeless eyes.

"Rest peacefully, child."

Walking away from the massacre, I know that war was indeed among the people of Elydia.