The End of Grieving Read online

when you are ready and follow her from your chambers. You and the guard pass through the hallways of the guard barracks and into the training segment of the castle. In the center of a large room stands a line of soldiers, each standing at attention before a man clad in a black cloak.

  You address the man directly, "Seeker, your call is most uncommon. I desire an explanation before I call these men to return to their quarters and I with them."

  The seeker waved his hand, dismissing your concern, "I've been ordered by the most high to organize a raiding party Therefore my authority triumphs your own in this ordeal."

  You quickly stand down and offer an apology. The Seeker concedes his appreciation before launching into the matter at hand.

  You listen carefully as the Seeker explains the most high's desire to please the inquirer and withhold opinion as he begins his strategy for attacking the eastern border of the city.

  One of the soldiers in line presents his concerns regarding attacking from the east. While another points to the obvious problem of shipment and disguise. The Seeker counters with resolutions which are met with appreciation. You stand by, guarded against personal involvement.

  A small charm hangs loosely from a string around your waist, a small rabbit’s foot. You stroke it instinctively as the seeker begins listing off assignments and strategy. You raise your hand, "How many of our own do we need capture before the end of our first run. Assuming the most high wishes us to continue such operations as this in the future?"

  "We need at least thirty five from our first run and twenty five from every other after that point. Attacking once every day for three weeks."

  There is some discussion among the soldiers. Many were appalled with the difficulty of the task at hand, others were thinking only of sleep and wished silently to be let back to their quarters. You, being an individual of high rank, are thinking only of the issue of retaliation and suspicion. The Seeker dismisses the majority of the troops with the promise of meeting again the next morning while you and a woman of similar rank are told accompany the Seeker to his personal chambers where the issue of specifics is to be discussed. You follow close behind, walking alongside your counterpart for the current assignment. The seeker arrives at a door in a passage along the inside of the Eastern wall. He pulls a key from a small pocket sewn into the seam of his belt and unlocks the door.

  You enter hesitantly along with the other soldier. The room is disturbingly clean and you shift uncomfortably in your battle worn leather boots. The seeker calls both of you to a desk that resides in the center of the room. A map of the city rests on the desk. You immediately begin assessing strategy while the Seeker sifts through a few drawers. The female soldier stands beside you in silence, observing the many artifacts aligning the walls of the room.

  The seeker drops a set of writing utensils, map markers, and extra parchment onto the table besides the map. You reach for a marking utensil and a sheet of parchment. It is your duty to organize the supplies needed for the raid.

  The seeker stops your hand. He looks behind you. A servant stands at the door carrying a platter of food.

  The seeker keeps his gaze planted firmly on the servant.

  "The door was open and-"

  "Get out."

  The servant trips over his own feet in his haste to leave the room. He lands hard against the door frame, spilling the contents of the tray.

  "HOW DARE YOU SPILL THIS TRASH ACROSS MY FLOOR?" He stands.

  "Wait." You gently push the Seeker back before he attacks the boy.

  The female soldier moves to help pick up the broken shards of glass, helping the servant off the ground, "It's alright," She says, "Just be sure to knock next time."

  The servant boy blushes, nods, and makes a hasty retreat. You look to the stain spreading across the stones as the soldier closes the door, turning the lock.

  The Seeker pushes himself away from you. He profanes loudly, "As a soldier in the militia of the most high, you have a duty to punish those who act out of line."

  You ignore the Seeker, addressing the other soldier, "What is your name?"

  "Felicia," She says, returning to the table. You nod appreciatively towards her before answering the Seeker, "If one is to lead an army, they must learn respect. Otherwise the fruits of battle are lost to bickering fools."

  The Seeker does not refute you. Instead he falls heavily into his chair waving for the planning to continue. You begin as before, taking up the parchment and the quill. "We need caravans enough to carry those we are to capture and food enough for the three week siege as well as the journey to the land eastward."

  The seeker fingers several coins in his pocket before answering, "I can arrange the execution and the payments." He moved quickly into the business at hand, trying to recover his pride.

  Felicia pours over the map, grabbing several place markers and putting them in various places on the eastern border of the city. You look over the various markers calculating the exact tolls for each piece on the map. You know the figures are coming out on the expensive side but with the most high paying the price, you are at liberty to spend without regard to financial limitation.

  When all is said and done the Seeker accepts the list of required expenditures before ushering you out of the room.

  The day passes by with a practiced air as you begin training a new set of recruits from the inner city families.

  It is well known that joining the military of the most high is accompanied by added securities that cannot be obtained in any other way, therefore it is accepted that a noble may join the ranks to gain favor in the eyes of the most high, but even so, many nobles choose to secretly chastise and condemn the most high in the shadows of their own homes, this being only a face to a people who hide themselves in preparation for a better day.

  You look around you, taking in the thirty new recruits standing before you, all wearing the emblem of the city alongside the crest of the most high. It is your duty to teach them the skills they need to keep the people in order, especially those on the outskirts who seem to think they have the right to think independently of the most high, neglecting their taxes, trading with foreigners, and spitting on the name of the most high. It is unbecoming of such a people as this and they must be met with a strong resistance as the decay is already spreading throughout the city.

  You address your new soldiers, "We must begin with names, for names are important. Without them, we know each other only as sir, comrade, or friend, effectively leaving one another unreachable in times of crisis. Names also bring us together, taking away the fear one holds in his heart for another which is a most grievous thing to have when times of peril are upon us. Soldier in the front."

  "Yes sir!"

  "Tell us your name, rank, and former occupation."

  The soldier stepped forward, "My name is Vlerik of the house of Wren. My father was a business man before me, as am I. I am of the rank of the first degree in the ranks of the Higher born. With all due respect sir, I do fine without knowing the names of my comrades sir. I don't give a horses snout about the lower born. Such things tend to make me itch."

  Vlerik stepped back in line amongst the snickers of several others.

  You look steadily into the eyes of the new recruit as a small flicker at the side of his mouth betrays his intent. The stifled smiles and the laughter falls into an uncomfortable silence as Vlerik holds your gaze, failing to recognize the danger of upsetting an instructor. He quickly corrected himself and set his gaze on the ground at your feet.

  "Vlerik son of none," You say, "Why do you mock me?"

  Vlerik opens his mouth but quickly closes it.

  "I think you'll find, mister Vlerik, your mattress to be as good as the king's bed once you've taken a few turns up squire Mountain." Vlerik doesn't respond, "Well?"

  A thin smile spreads across his face, "Under who's authority do you accuse me of mocking sir? Surely the most high does not overlook the threatening of young nobles like myself." A few recruits pi
ck up on the joke and laugh at his clever response, others look worriedly at you, waiting for you to snap.

  You walk up to him and get up in his face, forcing Vlerik to look you in the eye, "If you cannot use your head to answer a simple question then you are of no use to the military. I would have let you off easy if you are willing to repent of your childish games but now I think the effort involved in breaking you goes far beyond anything you or I are willing to attempt. You Vlerik, as well as numbers five seven and ten from row one. Step forward."

  All stepped forward a look of amusement on their faces. "You are dismissed from the military for dishonorable intention and inappropriate insubordination. You are dismissed." Vlerik and the others burst out in laughter against you, defying your orders. You ignore their pathetic entourage, walking to the open space in front of them. You close your eyes and pull a few strands of energy from the air. And just like that you move from each of the boys hitting pressure points and exposed joints.

  Within the space of a few seconds, all of the perpetrators in the front row fall to the ground, each with various forms of pain taking ahold of their pathetic thoughts. The only one standing is Vlerik who'd taken a blow to the back of the neck, cutting out muscle control throughout his body. The students look on in fearful silence as the perpetrators slowly pull themselves off the