Sethlzaar studied the cassock on his bed. He had a decision to make. Wear the black cotton shirt and leather trouser he always wore beneath his cloak or honor the Lord Commander's dinner with his cassock. It is not a dinner deserving of any honor, he told himself.
He returned the cassock to the wardrobe present at the corner of his room and shrugged into a leather trouser and strapped on his boots. He covered his torso in a grey cotton shirt, concealing the few scars on his bo
A true silence is one thing men rarely ever experience. However, there are times in their lives when they come across it. A silence void of life. A silence that calls forth a terror within some, and a peace within fewer. This is a silence Ayla blesses her children with every so often. It is true and, sometimes, deafening.Sethlzaar stood, waiting. The veils on his back weighed little less than a new born, and his bow hung from his back, ready whenever he needed it. But his quiver was nowhere to be found, perhaps emptied and lost in the madness of whatever had brought him to this moment... thi
Sethlzaar blinked against the brightness. The action was slow, bereft of enthusiasm. He laid on a soft cushion, a bed unlike the one he had placed his head on the past few months.Turning his head, he surveyed his environment. It smelled of herbs, reminding him of Father Jenael and the priest's room in the seminary. This room, however, was small enough to contain one bed upon which he laid, but large enough to hold two, perhaps three, before becoming congested. The light that sought to blind him came from the window above his head. It was taller than it was wide. It was also the only window t
Nelxit bar was popular for its mead, a special selection said to have been learned by the bar keep during one of his trips to the north. The soldiers visited it more often than not, as it was the closest bar to the tower. Sethlzaar and his brothers, however, visited it less frequently than the full moon did the night sky. Although, it was never certain if it was because of their mild reluctance to be present among the citizens or the choice of not disrupting the fun of the soldiers.Sethlzaar sat alongside his brothers at the far corner of the bar today. Save Soartin, they were all in their w
Lord Bilvion was a difficult man to please. Apart from the men he brought with him from whatever part of the realm he came from, no one at the fort liked him. Every soldier is regarded him with a moderate level of disdain however much concealed. Even his men often showed a hint of dislike. It was obvious the man had either proven his mettle to them in some way or he'd simply grown on them.
Skirmishes. This was all it was. A few hundred men engaged in battle, drawing blood from flesh. Sethlzaar frowned. Soartin was right about one thing; the war was yet to come.Sethlzaar sat on the grassy hill with his brothers. The morning was young; a few hours past midnight. The crescent moon could still be seen in the sky. It proved their only source of light. There had been no fire the whole night as they'd made camp. A hundred men in all, Lord Bilvion had assigned them to move with Captain Noem. The man towered over all of them easily and was prone to speaking with a voice like a blow hor
The fight raged on below them. With no signal, it seemed to go on forever. Sethlzaar found himself being reminded of Father Ordan's trainings on the days of the blade during his early years in the seminary. For a moment he forgot the battle before him and flexed his left hand. All of them had been required to learn the use of both hands, and they had learned it well enough. He looked at his brothers. There had been a time when he hadn't been ambidextrous. The things I've learned.His memory of the night at the alley came to mind. He frowned. No. There
Corpses riddled the ground as far as the eye could see. They had lost as much as the Merdendi, maybe more. But that was a worry for another man. For the first time since he set eyes on her in the battle Sethlzaar ventured towards Saelin, closing the distance that had once served as a forbidden zone of sorts. How could he not when she stood in place rooted to Ayla for all she was worth. Her swords dangled from her grip on both sides. Her face was turned to the sun. He would have thought her entranced by its beauty had her eyes not been closed.No. She simply bathed in its glow, although he did
Bodies burned black.The flames continued their feast.The sun was beginning its journey to the other end of Ayla when a soldier came running in a panicked haze. At first he seemed maddened, crazed from the heat of the sun, or perhaps some over-indulgence in some form of the soldiers' alcohol, a crime to deserve a good