“What is it?” asked Elion, running towards him.
“A letter from the Archivum Civitas just arrived at Duldera. The chief said that you need to read it this instant.”
“Give me the cursed thing,” he murmured while grabbing the letter to open it, “What could possibly… be… oh,”
“My love?” asked Auren, “What is it?”
“The… uh,” stuttered Elion, as he looked over the letter again, “is this true?” he asked the soldiers.
But the sudden question caught the soldier by surprise, “What is, sir?”
“ARE THE CONTENTS OF THE DAMN LETTER ACCURATE?” yelled Elion, scaring Lune and Kael as they now both clung to Blanc like a pup to his mother. Read full story at novęlfire.net
“Ye-yes, sir, they are.”
“Vita’s curses… Drew!”
“Yes, my lord!” Drew rushed over as soon as he was called.
“Go to Duldera and summon the wardens and the daughter.”
Elion nodded, “All of them.”
And with a nod and a quick bow, Drew and the soldier began running away.
“Father,” spoke Valar, “what is happening?”
“The Iron Line moves towards the Denegis domain. Bezel suspects they might be in front of us in less than a week.”
“The Iron Line?” Blanc muttered out loud, more to himself than to anyone else.
“They are what previous High Monarchs described in the past, as the Unfortunate Many. An army created by Their Graces, composed entirely of common people from all around the Empire, with not a single drop of Raw Vita inside them.”
Hearing this made Blanc question his hearing. The only words he heard were that this Iron Line was just a bunch of sacrifices, ready for the slaughter.
The Senvia Empire only allowed Noble Bloods or a select few to obtain Raw Vita.
The domains the Noble Bloods controlled, being sources of the high density of Raw Vita, such as the Golden Forest, were for their Blood.
“Then they shouldn’t be a threat,” began Sera, “commoners die like flies.”
“One, Sera,” sighed Elion, “Only one dies like a fly. But, tell me, how does one kill four million flies with only a mere forty thousand?”
Blanc blinked, unable to wrap his head around the number. Four million.
That number was not an army; it was an ocean.
An ocean of steel and panic.
“Commoners,” Elion had said.
But four million bodies, armed and walking towards them like a tide, for no apparent reason, sounded more like the end marching towards them than anything else.
But he had been raised to believe that power meant Vita.
Only the Noble Bloods were fit to wield it, offering them the protection they needed from everyone around them, including the commoners.
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But this… this felt different. The strength of The Iron Line could only be desperation weaponized.
And what terrified him most was that his pride kept telling him it would be all right. And yet he knew it was a lie.
“How? How many?” muttered Blanc, hoping he heard it wrong, or hoping that if he kept on saying it, somehow it would make it feel less than what it was.
“Enough that they are a threat beyond belief,” replied Elion.
“But why?” asked Blanc, not letting this conversation die down. He knew why, after all, he heard it by mistake, yet he wanted to be sure.
Say it. Thought Blanc to himself, not voicing it.
“Enough questions for now. Mera, Auren, Valar, Sera, you come with me. Beyanna, take the rest to their room. They need rest.”
“As you wish, my lord,” muttered Beyanna, the head maid of the Blood as well as Drew’s wife, “Come now, do as you were told,” she added, as she called for Blanc, Kael, and Lune to join her.
“What will happen now, Blanc?” asked Kael as they walked the halls of the mansion towards their rooms.
“I’m not sure, Little Kael, this is a first for me, too,” he replied.
“Can you… Uh, can you come sit in my room with us?” asked Lune, holding her twin brother’s hand.
Blanc showed a warm smile to her request, “Sure, I don’t see why not.”
“Beyanna, is this fine?” asked Kael.
“Of course, Young Lord,” she nodded, “and do not worry, the Patriarch will figure it out,” Beyanna said softly.
“Has such a thing happened before?” asked Lune.
“Wars always happen, if not in the Empire, somewhere else in this vast world. But they do. And they did in the past, here, as well. But none of you were born during those dark days. And they will come in the future as well. After all, children, war has been walking behind us since we first learned to speak. And every time we forget its face, its tongue, it reminds us of both of them."
“How was our father during such times?” asked Blanc.
“The Patriarch was a different man during such days. Filled with rage and wishing for war and glory. But, his lordship calmed down a lot after meeting your mothers,” spoke Beyanna.
“He did not seem calm to me,” exhaled Blanc.
“You pushed him over the edge, Young Blanc, but forgive him. It might be hard for him to make such decisions as well. After all, he is your father.”
Blanc stood silent, thinking about her words.
Perhaps, he thought to himself. But he did not say anything anymore.
“Thank you, Beyanna,” said Kael, “we are fine from here.”
“As you wish, young lord.” She bowed before leaving, but not before saying another few words of wisdom, which Blanc waited for the whole day, yet not from the right mouth, “Blanc, a moment, if you please, before I go.”
With a nod, Blanc took a few steps away from Kael and Lune, who were now waiting next to Lune’s room.
“What is it?” he asked Beyanna.
“I do not dare to assume as to why the Patriarch is holding such a secret, at least from you, Blanc. You are old enough for such a discussion and to hear such truths as the death of the High Monarch, but be careful, times are changing, and in such times, things that you would have thought of as impossible usually become possibilities. Do not let your guard down in the days to come.”
“Is there something else happening?” asked Blanc, even more worried than before.
“No, but I’ve seen war,” she started, “and during such times, there are choices that one must make to… survive.”
“Why are you telling me this?” he whispered.
“Perhaps, a whim. Yet a real warning nonetheless. May you have a good night.”
“Beyanna…” Blanc muttered, but the old maid was already past him and on her way.
“Come,” said Lune, as Blanc came closer to them, as he was still watching Beyanna’s back.
“What did she say?” asked Kael.
“Nothing of importance,” Blanc sighed, refusing to worry his younger siblings even more than they already were. Even if they chose not to show it.
But Lune did not care as much as Kael about their brother’s secrecy, “Blanc, Blanc,” she began, dragging him into her room, “Tell me stories about your hunts. I want to hear them from you.”
The room was dim, lit only by the orange glow of a few candles, as the windows were covered by silks, making it feel as if it were night already.
Lune preferred it that way, after all.
Kael climbed into the corner of the bed, pulling his knees to his chest.
Blanc removed his leather boots, putting them near the door before he sank into the chair in front of Kael and Lune, who was now next to her twin brother, her earlier tears and worries replaced by an expectant smile.
“Very well,” Blanc grinned, grateful for the chance he had of taking his mind off the reality of the situation they were in, “But be prepared to be amazed.”