85 Master and Commander (1/2)

It was the calm before the storm. That moment where two great armies faced off against each other from opposite sides of an already war-torn battlefield. Four days of war have come and gone, but this fifth night promised to be even bloodier. It was a promise to the already blood-drenched earth that there was more red rain to come.

To the east were the seventy thousand strong army of the Magesong Clan. They'd started this war with over a hundred thousand soldiers, but our side had made them bleed for every inch forward they tried to take.

Standing on the west side of the field was our sixty thousand strong Darah Army. Just based on the numbers, we were at a disadvantage. But there was more to warfare than quantity. And in a world where almost anything was possible, the quality of soldiers mattered. This was especially true of our generals. Leading our side was the enigmatic Iron Fist Darah, the Great General of the Trickster Pavilion who had decided that tonight she would lead our army from the front.

”No need to look nervous, Hundred-Man Commander,” chuckled the man astride the brown swifthart to my right. ”General Darah already approved your plan.”

”The plan won't work if she's going out herself, sir,” I reasoned.

I was sitting comfortably on my own mount, a beautiful light green swifthart I'd very recently named Myth Chaser. I patted its neck and felt it quiver in contentment similar to a dog after a good belly rub.

”Nobody's going to come after some no-name hundred-man commander when a Great General is on the field,” I finished.

”No-name?” General Thors raised one of his blonde eyebrows at me. ”The boy touched with fire, isn't that what the enemy's calling you now?”

”Doesn't hold as much weight as 'Iron Fist Darah' does it?” I replied, raising an eyebrow of my own at him.

Thors chuckled softly. ”No, I guess not.” He leaned over and patted my arm. ”Do your best regardless. It's all anyone can ask.”

Those simple words of encouragement coming from the most famous visere of the Trickster Pavilion were really all I needed for my spirits to lift.

I saluted Thors, and he returned my salute before riding away, heading back to the front of the center army where Darah must be.

”Did General Thors have any words of wisdom to impart?” asked a girl whose voice was like honey being poured into one's ears.

I glanced behind me and saw Aura leading her swifthart to my side.

My eyes wasted seconds examining my lieutenant's hooded face. Her golden half mask was newly polished. The eyes hidden behind them were bright with anticipation, mirrored by the half-smile playing on her pink lips.

Aura looked even more stunning than usual in her elven magician's robe with its metal neck guard and leaf-designed shoulder pauldrons. Her Hearthwood Staff was strapped to her back. The necklace I'd given her twinkled brightly between the folds of her breasts.

My eyes traveled down from Aura to her mount, a swifthart she'd named Starlight, although the beast's yellow-green fur resembled the sun and Aura's own golden locks more than the blue twinkle of a star.

”When you're done ogling me, Dean, I expect an answer to my question,” Aura joked.

The playful way Aura said it made my cheeks burn. I hated how smug she sounded too.

”I-I wasn't ogling you… I was just making sure you were ready,” I insisted, but even I could tell it was a lame lie.

If anything, my awkward response only served to widen Aura's smile.

”A-anyways,” I attempted to change the topic, ”He said we're good to go.”

”Even with my aunt deciding to join the battle?” Aura asked.