Two Years Later

“Marcus, are you sure? The clans are not going to appreciate this! They value their autonomy.”
It had been two years since he had been crowned chief, and he had been busy, spending that time gathering his people, training them, and preparing them for what was to come, and now it was time to call on his allies.
“I need you Brandon, yours are the best spies on all of cloud, even if you could only give me that, I could do the rest, but I will surely need your help if I am to succeed.”
Brandon nodded “It’s not going to be easy my friend, is this all really necessary? Do we really have to conquer the whole continent? You said the plains would largely fall into ruin anyway? Do we need to bother with them? Shouldn’t we focus on taking what we can get, without pushing our luck?”
Marcus shook his head. “No bran, war is coming, and yes, the plains will become a battlefield, but we need them on our side, we need the men, and we need the supplies, not to mention their expertise, you know the White-fields are the best assassins, they will come in handy, whatever is to come, without all the tribes, we won’t stand a chance of living until the chosen one gets here.”
Brandon nodded “I know, I know of the prophesy, and what will happen here before our mysterious lord and Saviour arrives, I believe you, but the other chieftains are not likely to follow you so easily, and besides, my people won’t just accept subjugation, I’ll get lynched!”
“Don’t worry about it, they will follow you, and you will continue to lead them, that is why I chose liberty after all, it is the only way to rule all of cloud.”
Brandon frowned, but he nodded in agreement. “So war it is then huh? Where will go first? The twins? Or north?”
“We will go south.” It was the first interjection of the witch, Naea, she usually didn’t intervene in his discussions much, but this was his friend and trusted ally. 
She was right of course, they had spent a long time devising their plan, and south was the most logical option.
“Indeed,” he confirmed, “the twins have too great a defensive advantage, I hope to get reinforcements before confronting them, and I want to wait until the end of winter before going north, and I hope to avoid war for as long as possible, I will try to convince them first, with any luck, they will heed the prophesy, like you and I, and see reason.”
“That is a bold move my friend, going after Jorgh first, he is not known for his reasonable nature, or faith in prophesies”
“He was never going to convince the first one, and Jorgh, of all the chieftains, is among the least likely to join us willingly anyway.” Naea said, maintaining her neutral expression.
“You’re going to make an example out of him huh? That could work, make an impression, it could also turn people against you though.”
“I suppose thats true, but we have a plan, Jorgh is strong, but he isn't as loved as he likes to think, he swore to chaos sure, so all follow him willingly, but most of them do so out of fear, not love.”

They could see the capital of Cloud Central from here, it was a true marvel, a giant upside down, floating mountain with a relatively flat top, if he squinted his eyes, he could make out buildings, and farmlands, although a thin layer of winter snow obscured its features. The island they were currently on, was much smaller, but much higher in elevation, it was located near the edge of their tribes territory, and was therefore a great place to meet their neighbor tribe, the white peaks, where Brandon was chief.
They would pass under Cloud Central, and a great many other floating islands, on their way to the green valley, where Jorgh ruled.

“My troops are ready and waiting Marcus.” Brandon had come late at night, not very surprisingly, since Marcus had never known him to be in bed early, but he also hadn’t expected him to be able to gather his troops this quickly, it had only been a few days.
“Leave your warriors with me, I want you to take your spies south, ahead of us, oversee them personally, gather all the information you can, and report back.” Marcus didn’t really expect to learn anything he didn’t already know, but one could never be too careful, and this was Brandon’s specialty after all. Even as kids, Brandon had been sneaking into his fathers meetings, and peaking in letters where he shouldn’t, getting himself, and by association, Marcus, into loads of trouble.
“Yes Sir!” Brandon saluted. He had sworn his fealty privately in the morning because they didn’t want to make him look too subservient in front of his people.
“Be especially on the lookout for traps, and I want you to take a close look at Claith in particular, of the south wood, I have heard strange rumors about that one.”
“Will do chief.” Brandon said. “Meet me outside the green valley, I will order my men to a slow march, to conserve their stamina, I don’t want to be noticed, but I don’t fancy waiting anywhere for too long either, so make sure you return quickly.”
Brandon nodded, and he was off.

“Do you really think we can beat them in battle, chief?” Arthur had been awaiting their return eagerly, in the chiefs tent, where he sat with a book, although it didn’t look like he had done much reading.
“We have a good chance, brother, but I’m hoping he will agree to a duel, that would make things a lot easier.”
“He would agree.” Arthur said concerned. “Because he thinks he will win.”
“Worry not brother, my spirit is strong, and my sword arm still knows how to swing a blade, although I might be rusty after all these years.”
“You haven’t been training.” Arthur pointed out. He was right, Marcus had done many things, made all the preparations, and he was ready, but still, he had not been able to get himself to call upon his spirit once again. Now, he had no choice, he would not be able to put it off any longer, it was time.
“I don’t doubt your abilities, chief, or your resolve, I’ve just never been in a war before.” Arthur was much younger than himself, a boy really and he had been fortunate enough to have missed the Tribal wars that had made up most of Marcus’ younger years.
“Compose yourself brother, you have talent for battle, but if you wish to lead you have to radiate strength and courage, fake it if necessary, because if you look unafraid, your troops will trust you.”
Arthur nodded and straightened up. “Yes chief!”
“How are the troops, anyway?” Marcus asked.
“They are eager for a fight, they are ready for battle, and await your command, chief!” Arthur said, confidently. Marcus smiled, and nodded to him.
He had placed his little brother in charge of relaying orders to the men, in the hopes that he would pick up leadership abilities, and he had, rather quickly too.
“Get them ready, we leave at dawn, due south.”
“Yes chief!” Arthur saluted, and stormed off. Eager for a fight eh? Ready for battle? He thought to himself. He hoped they would have to wait a good long while for one.

Marcus could feel his bond tingling, his spirit had always been an attention seeker, but especially when he had been mentioned favorably, he did really enjoy getting his ego stroked after all, but Marcus had meant it.
His bonded spirit was one of passion, it didn’t cast spells in the traditional sense or rather, the more common sense, but instead, transformed into a sword, and what a sword it was.

“What is it spirit?” He asked, after he had returned to his hut. 
“You haven’t cast me in a long time.” The spirit whispered with it’s soft wispy voice. “But yet, you find reason to sing me praise! Why?”
“Worry not spirit, soon you will grow to miss these times of peace.” He replied solemnly.
“Yeeessss!” the spirit hummed, sounding exited. “Your visions are clear on that, much sport coming, you better train with me boy, the goddess always, always demands war, you know thissss.” The spirit said, stringing his words together. It spoke true, it was a well known fact that the goddess, Emina only truly rewards the most gifted and successful of warriors and kings.
Naea looked over to him. “How is he?” She asked. “Same as always.” He replied, and he was, the spirit was always encouraged Marcus to fight, or at least cast his blade, but if it was up to him, he had slain enough people
“What are you making over there?” He asked her. She looked down at her pestle and mortar, where now, most of the dried root had been properly powdered. 
“Tea” She said, putting her things down, grabbing a cup and pouring the powder in it, after which she took the kettle from the fire, and poured boiling water into the cup, took a big sip, and sighed. “You want some?”
He shook his head. “You should, Marc, you look a bit tense. Is it Jorgh? Don’t you think you can beat him?”
“I think I can beat him, I’m just worried he might pull something, not to mention the fact that we might be in trouble if he refuses the duel”
“He will accept.” She assured him “He’s arrogant, he thinks he is the best mage in the world, and is probably eager to prove it, even if only to himself. Just poke his pride a bit, and he will accept out of pure indignation.”
He nodded “Ahh, you’re probably right, as usual” He said with a smile, lounging back on his bed, a straw pillow between his back, and the wall.
She smiled back. “I always am.” When she smiled like that, she almost looked like a teenager, so youthful, so unconcerned, but how old she actually was remained a total mystery to him. He had asked once, but she had simply raised her eyebrows and ignored him.
Whatever her age, she was stunning.
She had light brown skin, a mark of her foreign origin, and dark hair, darker even than his own, which was a cloud central brown.
Her brown and yellow robes made her look skinny and dainty, but he knew she was wiry and well built underneath.
She put her cup down and walked over to him, sitting down on the bed, next to him, and running her hand through his hair. She didn’t kiss him, not yet, she just looked at him with her hazel eyes.
It was enough tho, and he reached behind her, pulling the strings that secured her robes, and they slid from her body, and onto the ground.
She wore many pouches and vials with strange contents under her robes, as well as one strangely shaped dagger, these she took off herself.

This had started about a year and a half after they had met, and they agreed that it better stay between them, although Arthur had of course found out about it quickly, he was truly observant.
While it wasn’t unusual for leaders to employ Malishai witches as advisers or healers, he wouldn’t want rumors to spread of a foreign witch manipulating the chief, or any such things.
Perhaps one day, after the chosen one had brought salvation the the world, and his work was complete, perhaps then he would be free to love whom he wished.
Alas, this depended on when the Chosen one would at last return, something the prophesy left ambiguous.
All it said is that, to make up for the events of the collapse, a single man would arrive, the arrival of which would release Zenithrix, and either restore the world to its former glory, or destroy it completely.
Marcus vowed to himself that he would do whatever he could to ensure the former.