Red Rivers

Marcus had spent most of the day training, but as the sun lowered in the sky, and he finished up, he had gone looking for Naea.
He found her waiting for him in his tent. 
“How are you feeling?” he asked, as he sat down next to her. “You know me.” She said, smiling. “I’m a witch. It will take much more than that to kill me.”
“To kill me, you mean.”  Marcus felt the the small gash between her ribs, as he slid his hand under her robes. It felt tiny, and innocent, as if it had been a mere scratch.
“That knife was meant for me.” He said, she was avoided his eyes, and simply stroked his arm.
“You saved my life…” He whispered. She still didn’t look at him, but she couldn’t hide a smile shaping her lips, and reaching her eyes.
“No need to thank me, Marc.” She said, as she lifted his shirt, taking it off him. “I assure you my motives were purely selfish.”

“Forgive me, my liege!” Brandon pleaded, he had returned as soon as he had gotten word of what had happened. “I should have foreseen this, I don’t know how he was able to slip past our sentries.”
“Calm down Brandon.” Marcus made a pacifying gesture. “The white fields assassins are legendary, this was bound to happen at some point, and who knows what kind of spirit aided him in infiltrating our meeting with Claith.
Brandon nodded “Even so, my men should have noticed him, forgive me!”
“Rise.” Marcus said, gesturing him to get up. “I will not punish what was not your fault, I will hear no more of it!”
Brandon got up, but his head was still hanging, Marcus was uncomfortable seeing his old friend in such a state of subservience, but he was king now, he supposed he would have to adapt, and get used to it.
“Now,” he started, “report please Bran, what have you seen so far, in the red rivers?”
Brandon recomposed himself. “Not much yet, my liege, but my men are still on it, I will tell you more as soon as I can, however, I do expect that chief Eredan has received word of your activities, as will the other chiefs at this point, he will be waiting for you!”
Marcus nodded, news travels fast, especially if it is about war and conquest. His time of surprise and secrecy was over, they were lucky it had lasted as long as it had, but they wouldn’t be able to avoid all out battle forever, although, with a little luck, Eredan would listen to him, he was one of the few that might be convinced to heed the prophesy, and follow him, although that convincing might prove to require some amount of effort.

“The red rivers army is great, my liege.””Arthur noted. Marcus had called a council meeting, with all his important advisers, and now, vassals. He had told all of them specifically to come only with those invited, but Claith had ignored that, and brought his cousin Maith anyway.
Naea was there of course, although she preferred to tell him her true opinions in private. At his right hand was Arthur, who would lead the discussion. Brandon, still recovering from his perceived blunder, despite Marcus’ efforts, just sat and listened.
Unsurprisingly, Claith was the loudest of the bunch.
“Sure he has a bunch of goons, perhaps the most of any of the tribes, besides the combined forces of the twins, but its not them we should be worrying about, kiddo.” Arthur gave him a glare, he didn’t particularly like Claith, and he hated being called anything other than Lord or Arthur, especially if it referenced his youth. But Claith ignored him, and continued.
“Eredan himself might be our biggest issue, he is a saint, after all.”
Marcus furrowed his brow, he had heard rumors of this, but saints were rare, and he had never even seen one in person, and who was to say that these tales of sanctity hadn’t been spread on purpose?
“If that is the case, we should be figuring out what his special ability is.” Arthur was obviously doing his best to look past his dislike of Claith, as Marcus had told him to do.
“If I may.” Borgh offered politely, and Arthur nodded to him, giving him the floor.
“I was in charge of the troops my brother sent to fight in the west, and I have some experience with the red rivers folk, and their chief Eredan among them,” he paused.
“Well, what can you tell us about him?”Arthur Asked, “Well,” Borgh continued, “the only time I saw him in person was at the peac meeting at the end of the wars, but I have been in battles where he was present,” he said with a lamenting look on his face. “I remember that we were usually doing quite well as battles go, my men were experienced and well trained, and even though the red rivers outnumbered us, I was always able to create openings and work their troops towards a rout.” He Paused for a moment, thinking, “Well, so their troops aren’t the best, what about Eredan?” Arthur pushed him, and Marcus did not fail to notice the impatience, he would have to talk to him about that.
“Well, I remember one time in particular when he arrived on the battlefield, it was when we thought we had won, we were getting ready to chase them down, and then, well…” He furrowed his brow, but continued before Arthur had a chance to bud in again, “That day I saw things I did not understand, but what I do understand is that we lost that fight”
The room was quiet, Marcus didn’t know what to think about this rather vague story, but one glance at Naea, and he knew to be concerned, even if her expression meant nothing to the others, he could recognize her worry when he saw it.
Finally, Arthur broke the silence, asking what they were all wondering. “What kind of things? What did you see? What kind of spirit does that anyway?”
“He is an elemental mage, expert in the elements of light and signal, you will see him wearing the diamonds and Amethysts to prove it.” Borgh explained.
“Well that explains why you saw things, bu it I’ve fought illusion mages before, they are not that powerful to dominate battlefields by themselves,” Claith said, “What does this have to do with his Sainthood anyway?”
“Well, I didn’t see mere illusions, it was as if the whole world melted away, until all that was left were enemies, a simple illusion spell doesn’t have that power, I’m not sure what happened, but what I am sure of is that I lost many men that day.”
“What are you saying Borgh?” Arthur asked, “What point are you trying to make?”
“Yeah Borgh,” Claith added, “Get to the point already.”
Borgh nodded, “Yes, I believe that when Eredan achieved sainthood, his existing abilities were expanded into his saint ability.”
Marcus nodded, saints were those chosen by Emina herself as the most worthy of her approval, and the abilities they were given would work with their existing ones in order to not only add to their strength, but to synergize well with their existing fighting or magic style. If Eredan was an illusion mage, it made sense that his saint ability would also be one of illusion.

“What do you think?” He asked her. They were alone now, this was like a ritual now, him taking her aside after a meeting to get Naea’s opinion, even if she usually didn’t tell him anything he wasn’t expecting, or already knew, but she did always share her unique insights.
“You’ll be alright,” she whispered. “Keep your head clear, he will try to trick you, manipulate you, or drive you insane. Stay with your own mind, remember who you are, what is real and what isn’t.”
Marcus wasn’t entirely sure what she was talking about, but he nodded and repeated the words in his mind. “Remember who you are, what is real and what isn’t.” He did not know what she meant, but he was sure he would find out when the time came.
She looked at him with a slight glint in her eye, was it concern? No, envy? No, why would she be jealous?
She sat down in the chair next to his, and rested her hand on his shoulder.
“Whats up?” he whispered, but she did not respond, instead she pulled him closer, and forced a hug out of him. He sighed, and wrapped his arms around her.
“You’ll be alright,” she whispered.

As they made their way to the red rivers, the trees of the south wood made way for snowy hills, shurbs covered in a thin layer of white, and ice tips. There was actually a lot less snow here than closer to the mountains, which were now no longer visable on the horizon, but despite this, it was muh colder here than in the forest, Marcus suspected it was due to the trees keeping the wind at bay.
Here the wind was much as he remembered it from back home, fast, unrelenting, whipping by, feeling almost sharp to the skin, howling over and between the hills. Fortunately for them, their horses had been bred for this kind of weather, and their thick winter coats protected them from the cold.
There were still patches of threes here, hidden in the less windy crevices of the landscape. They were also forced to cross many narrow rivers, frozen to the bottom, and eventually, they made it to the big river, the one on which Eredans home town would sit, this one, so wide and deep that it was not yet frozen solid, but merely had a thick layer of ice on top.
“We should be nearly there,” Arthur said, huddled up on his horse, wrapped in several coats.
Marcus nodded, he had sent Brandon back east to scout out the northern forests, the home of the twin tribes. He would be having a much better time than them, despite the thicker snow.

As they approached Eredans home village, they were met by a large military encampment, blocking their way forward, they were situated on a steep hill, just on front of the village. The village did have walls, but for some reason, their enemy had decided to take up an advantageous battle position instead, perhaps they were not willing to risk fighting in the town, Marcus did have a rather large amount of men now,
This position was great for them though, Marcus would have trouble fighting up this hill.
It wasn’t long before a rider approached them. “Message from chief Eredan, for the invader Marcus of Cloud Central!” He announced.
Marcus granted him his audience, “Speak, messenger, and speak clearly,” Marcus said to him.

They met at the foot of the hill, between their two armies, here, he could clearly and easily see Eredans obvious advantage. He had, of course, brought Naea and several of his best soldiers to this parley, but not Arthur, as he had been left in charge. He had also left Claith behind, as he did not wish for his antics to interfere with his attempts at diplomacy, but Borgh, he had brought along, in the hopes that his elderly wisdom and international renown might lend him an advantage of some kind.
At last, Eredan and his entourage approached, it seems he had chosen a similar escort, of a small number of soldiers, a young woman, and an older but very large man who was obviously not from Cloud originally, and he had a giant sword strapped to his back. He must be and officer of some kind.
As they came closer, Marcus got a good look at him, Eredan was being carried on a palanquin, not unusual, but also not the best way of seeming strong and powerful, as some might mistake your lack of walking as a sign of weakness.
Marcus was not fooled, however, and he stayed on his guard.
The most obvious thing he first noticed about the man was his age, he was an old man, as shown by his shoulder length white hair, and great white beard, which reached down to his lap, as he sat in his palanquin.
As Borgh had assured him, he was indeed wearing two diamond rings, with stones thicker than his fingers, and a single silver bracelet, decorated with a large amount of amethysts.
He was also wearing his impressive chiefs headpiece, which had been made of a wolf skull, and neat silver work, and bronze accents.
As the man arrived, and his palanquin was set down, Marcus noticed the most striking feature of the man, one that he had not known of before. The man’s legs were very much deformed, to a point where he wasn’t likely to be able to walk at all, or even stand.

"Greetings, Chief Eredan of the Red Rivers,” Marcus made a slight bow as if he spoke, and did his best to sound respectful.
“Spare me the pleasantries, boy!” Eredan said in his deep, gravely voice. “I know why you are here,” He frowned at Marcus, “You have come to conquer my lands, and subjugate my people, have you not? I am eager to hear what you have to say for yourself!”
Marcus swallowed, this man did not seem like the knee-bending type, and not for the lack of knees. He was seriously starting to doubt how this meeting would go.
“You’ll be alright.” She had said. Did that mean he would succeed, or just that he would survive?
He gave her a quick glance, but as usual, her expression was stern and unhelpfully unreadable. He would just have to give it his best shot.
“I have not come here to kill, Eredan,” He started, forcing his expression to be serious, and his tone confident. “I have come to unite the people of Cloud, a the chosen ones return is imminent, and only together can we hope to survive!” He said in his most convinced manner, no, he was convinced, “You know what the prophesy says, you know the signs, and you know what is to come,” he continued. That should do it.
Eredan simply peered at him, his thick brow furrowed over his hawk-like eyes.
“That may be so, boy,” the old man started, “only a fool would deny the signs now. Zenithrix is coming, along with his four lackeys, But why does that mean I should I follow you? Why should I bow to a foreign pup from the mountains?”
Marcus started. Why? Because he had the visions? Would anyone even care if they knew, and even more ridiculously, believed them? No. That was no reason, that was not his reason, and they wouldn’t follow him for that even if it was. He looked to Naea, “you must rule, because you are the strongest, the fairest, you are the one who will not be a tyrant, you will not oppress, but only liberate, and protect, thats why it mus be you!” She had said. He knew had already known it in his heart, and even if he had rarely been able to admit it to himself, it had to be him. And he spoke.
“I will be me, because only I, as your King, have the strength to protect our people, and to carry them to victory, to keep the unity of the tribes intact for long after it has been established, because if you swear to me willingly, my ideal, the one of liberty, will guarantee your rule of your tribe for the rest of your life, as my vassal.” He meant it this time, he would protect, and he would ensure victory, and if he was to rule so many people, he would have to take the responsibility of being king, the king of a united Cloud Nation!
Eredan didn’t seem surpised to hear his words, and if he was he didn’t show it. “Is that so, boy?” He asked, almost unsure of the question, “Do you think you have what it takes to face the prophesied hordes of hell, to maintain your grit, your duty to a kingdom in the face of endless death and pain?”
Did He? Marcus thought back to his times at war, the many moments when he knew he had had enough, but had carried on. Yes. He thought. He could do it, and he would.
“Yes, I do!” He said, “I will carry the burden of war, and the survival of our people for as long as it is mine to bear!”
The old man looked at him, thoughtful, yet curious, Marcus could even swear he saw the hint of a smile on his face.
“We will see.” The old man said with resignation. Marcus could see the mans diamonds and amethysts light up, as his ears were filled with a strange hum, and his vision began to blur.
“We will see,” he heard in the old mans voice, as if whispered in his ear, and everything went black.