Chapter 1
Invasion
The pale yellow winter sun over Tyrus emitted no warmth whatsoever on the land under it as it made its way high up into the overhead sky. None of this seemed to bother the tall Terian Northman as he gazed out over the mountains in the distance at the far end of the Highland Rim. The barren flat rocky wasteland served as a border between the northern lands and the lower lands as they were called by his people and he studied it for any signs of movement with his dark greenish brown eyes.
The giant black eagle like war kraal that he had raised since it was a tiny hatchling standing next to him nuzzled and tugged at his arm playfully with its massive hooked shaped yellow beak. He glanced over at the large bird and rolled his eyes a little in mock exasperation. He couldn’t actually blame the kraal for feeling restless, they both had been sitting idle in the almost winters cold and wind for way too long without moving and it was just now telling him that it felt the urge to fly.
The Terian war commander gently pushed large beak aside and reassured the bird with comforting words that they would be leaving soon. This statement seemed to satisfy the large intelligent creature and it stopped tugging at him and began to preen its long glossy black feathers instead.
He had done as he had been instructed too by his masters and had arrived at the preordained meeting place at the preordained time but as to the lowlander from whom he was to receive orders that he was to meet here, there still wasn’t any sort of sign.
Rynn Windrunner could feel irritation prickling his insides like a razorthorn patch under his skin. He was used to being in command and other than for his Xar, Kaman Baat who commanded all of the warcommanders, he kept men waiting on him rather than the other way around. He especially didn’t like being kept waiting out here on the barren flats of the Highland rim with nothing around him but rocks to break up the blowing freezing winds of a blizzards tail end as it howled across the open land.
Wrapped in only a snow wolfs cloak and hardened riding leathers, he stood as still as a stone in the biting cold, waiting. The only outward sign of his irritation was in his right hand that kept involuntarily caressing and gripping the bone white hilt of his sheathed broadsword strapped to his hip. He could he knew with just a tracing of a finger along his body, activate one of the magical runes that had been carved into him by the Saigan shamans and ward away the cold. His natural magics along with the runes that enhanced them would start a fire burning inside of him that would turn it away, but he chose not to do so. That was not the warrior way and he would not betray that code unless he was in dire circumstances. He was one of the black, a Terian warrior, and had a reputation to uphold.
All Terian warcommanders bodies are covered with numerous and different magical rune tattoos. The tattoos are carved into their actual flesh by the Saigan using their blood knives to amplify their natural powers for both battle and survival in the harsh northern climates. But today wasn’t a battle yet and he hadn’t been out here long enough to have to worry about surviving. Instead it was just a meeting that he was ordered to by his masters to which the other man who he was to meet was still late, he thought again irritably.
About a stones throws length away from him a brilliant bright flash sparked in the air drawing his eyes to it. Suddenly a bright red burst of flames appeared and started to burn away at the very air itself. The flames started small but grew fast into first a burning wall before spreading out into a fiery hole that appeared plenty large enough for a man to step through.
A tall cold faced imperious looking man with long almost white blond hair who could have almost been considered handsome if it wasn’t for the coldness of his ice blue eyes and hard face stepped through the fiery hole, then the flames and the hole faded away behind him just as quickly as they had appeared.
This lowlander who Rynn was supposed to meet wore red and black robes that were trimmed in gold and the war commander wondered as the tall man moved across the space towards him what kind of warrior this man was. Gold, he knew was almost always the color for the warrior castes of the south just like black signified them here in the north.
He noticed two things immediately as the whitish blond haired man approached. His robes weren’t like the robes that most of the magicians of the lowlands usually wore. This mans were leather instead of cloth and they were split in the middle in warrior style like those that marked the yellow skinned, dark haired warriors of far away Esia. That was when he noticed how the other man moved. His gate and stride as he came across the rocks marked him as warrior born and he seemed to be moving with a viper’s grace, quick, deadly and sure. Not many men caused Rynn to feel wary but this one with the way he moved caused a shiver of fear to work its way through him. The sword strapped to his back that stuck out from over one shoulder did not seem out of place on this man despite the robes.
Like the warcommander who braved the biting freezing cold without any sort of magical assistance, so to did Cyadine Syndell, royal wizard and advisor to the royal regent Vargas Salidor, ruler of the fourteen kingdoms of the south. He knew that he had to do so or else this Terian war commander would think him a weakling and the deadly royal regent to the fourteen kingdoms was far from that in any sense of the word. Once he had been trained for battle and warfare by the best known battlemaster on the entire planet
“You’re late!” came the sharp curt reprimand from the Terian war commander, once he was certain that the other man was close enough to hear him over the howling blowing wind that screamed about them.
Cyadine Syndell eyed the other man standing in front of him with a flat ice blue stare, almost as if he were checking his measure, then in as brusque a tone as the other man had used, said simply. “Are your men in place? Is everything ready for your supposed invasion of the fourteen kingdoms?”
The Terian warcommander almost blinked in angry outrage at being ignored in such a manner by the other man, by any man. It showed in the tightening of his hand on the hilt of his sword and in the tic began to spasm on his cheek. He was not a man who liked being treated with such outright disrespect or disregard. If one of his own men or any other man besides his Xar whom he harbored a deep hatred for showed him such outright insubordination he would have considered it a blood challenge. An insult of the direst kind and the offender would have died kicking and quivering on the end of his sword. Fighting off the wave of anger that threatened to wash over him, he did something that he was unaccustomed to and reigned in his temper, holding his outrage in check. For some reason he knew without having to be told or shown that this man whom the masters had sent would have him on the ground dead probably before his sword had even cleared half of its scabbard. The yellow eyed Elvynn master had informed him and all of their people working for them in this the forsaken lands as he called them that this ice cold blue eyed half mans words were the same as his own and must be obeyed in the same fashion. That he was the leader of all of the humans who served them and that if they expected their promised reward for service after they returned, they were to obey him without question as if he were himself.
“The time to attack is now,” Cyadine said in a soft hiss, as he continued to show no sort of regard for the commander’s outrage, in fact he disdainfully ignored it altogether. To have done anything else would have let the man think he was weak and that might have led to disobedience.
“The south will not act against you for at least a few weeks if you attack soon. The man known to you as the general Dalmar Ariass is dead and a civil war is on the brink of beginning in the low lands due to my own actions. That makes now the perfect opportunity for you and your men to wreak havoc and make them think that you are about to invade!”
Rynn knew Dalmar Ariass, the strongest military commander in the southern lowlands and he felt a slight feeling of remorse go through him when he heard the other man’s coldly spoken words. He had matched his own swords and men against the lowlander mashall of armies personally and had been defeated by the southern general twice. He had been looking forward to a third meeting and had developed a healthy and wary respect for the now dead commander. He briefly wondered what it was that had killed the commanding general. They were both as far as he could tell close to the same age and he should have lived for a few more years at least. Rynn thought ruefully that he should have at least lived long enough for him to have defeated him once.
“I will personally insure through my position that nothing will be done to stop you while you attack for a while. Our masters know that the time for the retrieval is drawing near. They know that their banishment is about to end and their orders to you are that you are to cause as much chaos in the fourteen kingdoms as you can manage. Draw all attention from the south, northward before the anointed time of the masters’ return.” Cyadine paused and leveled a hard icy stare at the Terian commander. “Heed this though!” he said it in such a way that it was certain that he wanted no misunderstandings. “No attacks are to be directed towards the west, towards our masters new homeland at all, is that understood.” Cyadine waited, not speaking again until the other man nodded in agreement.
Both men were agents for their Elvynn masters and the retrieval that they were talking about was supposed to be the time that the Elvynn banishment that had been forced upon them by the gods two thousand years ago finally ended. The Elvynn would then be allowed to return back into the rest of the world and become the other lesser races masters again as they had been before if they so chose. Already they had laid hundreds of plans in place for that exact moment and were now just waiting for the sign.
A little over two thousand years ago the Elvynn had ruled over all of the other races on Tyrus as masters to slaves. Until the slave wars during the age of might started the wars of power that had freed the other races from their control. Those same wars of power had also almost destroyed the entire planet as well. The gods themselves had had to step in using their avatar forms and save Tyrus from the Elvynn creational war wizards known as the Tua-latin. Then the gods had in of favor to the lesser races, separated them and made them all equals for a period of two thousand years. The gods had placed limits on both the Elvynn and human creational magic wielders, leveling the playing field between the races until the banishment was over. Once that time period was over all limits were lifted on creational magic and everything would be returned to normal almost.
There would still be one barrier in place but his masters had plans for that as well. Something had to been done about the taint of the magic in the founding city of Talathandria. After that nothing could be done to stop his masters except for another act of divine interference.
These acts by the gods had occurred so long ago that in most human minds they were considered a legend or a myth and most had forgotten exactly when it had occurred and never truly expected the Elvynn to ever try and return to power over them again. Most humans and some of the other races thought themselves safe in their cities and much too powerful now to ever again be made slaves. To most human standards except for those that live longer through the use of creational magic, this had occurred a little over fifteen generations ago. But to the Elvynn, who had a much longer lifespan than the other races it has only been a period just barely over three generations and the memories of it and their defeat at the hands of what they considered lesser inferior beings was still fresh in their minds and most Elvynn were eager for revenge and a return to power.
For two thousand years they have been waiting patiently for the events that would signal the beginnings of the end of their banishment and their return to the world as its master again and knew that their time should be coming soon. The humans and the other races had been allowed enough time to build their cities and their defenses against the return or the retrieval as the Elvynn called it but the Elvynn had been planning on such for the past two eons and were ready with plans already in place for their banishment to end.
Both men, Cyadine Syndell and Rynn Windrunner were secret agents for the Elvynn Tua-latin, the conclave of Elvynn creational war wizards in charge of preparing the way for the retrieval. These creational war wizards were able to wield all forms of original magic on Tyrus. Humans and the other races unless they were very gifted couldn’t work all of the forms of creational magic without the use of a magical artifact. Only the Elvynn or those with Elvynn blood in their bloodline or some exceptional humans can work the magic and natural energies of Tyrus without such devices. Cyadine possessed two, one the armor worn by his son and the other that was strapped to his back.
For humans, these special individuals were trained if they had the physical and mental abilities to be battlemages and only they were allowed to wield creational magic and only certain types of it. It had been for handling the forbidden parts of it that Cyadine had been refused from the order, not allowed to achieve his own black and gold robes. Only fourth slash or higher was allowed to wield all of the abilities of a true creational mage.
Creational magic for humans was split by the gods into several different ranges and usually a human mage could not use the clerical abilities of creational magic because those were gifts that were given to clerics of the religious orders by their chosen gods. If one possessed a creational artifact like the sword that was strapped across the wizardly advisors back which grants them all abilities, they could work any sort of magic that they wanted to and be protected from it too.
Cyadine didn’t actually need the sword to work creational magic, he was both battlemage trained and had just enough elvynn blood in his veins to work the magic without it or any type of device. But he liked the use and feel of the powerful Elvynn vorpyll sword known as spellbreaker in his hands. He had been in his younger days while training as battlemage taught how to work and use all types of weapons and was deadly with almost any that he put in his hands or was even more deadly without any weapons at all in his hands. Most people thought that a sword was the only weapon that he wielded and he preferred to let them think such. The cunning royal advisor knew well enough that if his enemies and watchers believed one thing completely they wouldn’t be expecting something else entirely. The sing songy voice of his despised battlemaster filled his head with his horrible accent saying, “Never let your enemies see all of your power or strength you wield unless it part of a greater plan. Let them see and taste the wine that you pour out of the bottle but don’t tell them about the poison that is already hidden in the glass that they will drink from.” He had learnt about things like this and a lot more from Trakiko Matsuri before he had been disgraced and cast out of the battlemage order by the ancient battlemaster himself. For years afterwards he had hidden his abilities and had let others believe that he didn’t possess all of them anymore.
The royal wizard and advisor to the throne of Kallamar had once been taught by a man whom he considered the closest thing to a father that he could have ever had. A man who was at one time the greatest of the Esian nations generals and who was now still the greatest battlemaster at the academy. Cyadine now used the most useful of all of those lessons well. Deception of ones enemy was the single greatest art in war.
Slowly the blond haired advisor began to lay out the plans and tactics for his staged invasion of the lowerlands.
Rynn listened at first with a skeptical expression on his face but then slowly he began to nod his head as the wisdom of the other mans plan began to take shape in front of him. After the first few minutes of listening to the lowlander he was begrudgingly shaking his head in outright respect and admiration. Gone were the feelings of cold that had been there before they had started planning. Now he hardly felt the biting wind blowing about them during their long discussion on tactics and strategies and as they finally finished discussing their plans both men looked at each other and smiled thin tight smiles of respect and each began to nod appreciatively.
The Terian warcommander had put aside all of his misgivings about this man that the master had chosen to be the leader. This lowland advisor was one who truly knew the rules of war and about how to wage it. He knew exactly what it would take for their masters and him to overcome the south. Rynn considered himself an able war commander but this tall blonde haired man with the cold featured handsome face and icy blue eyes truly understood how to wage war.
“Maybe,” Rynn thought in admiration, “even better than the dead general of the south who had defeated him twice.”
Once their discussion was ended, the Terian warcommander threw his self up onto the saddle of his war kraal. He pulled on one of the sets of the massive bird’s reigns and called down to the advisor saying that all would go as he had planned. Then he raked the bird’s sides with the sharpened metal spikes of his spurs and the giant black kraal threw itself high into the air with an explosion of gusting wind and flapping wings. A loud piercing scream erupted out of the bird’s throat and echoed across the barren empty wasteland of the Highland Rim.
As the massive black bird climbed up higher and higher into the cool air, Rynn looked out over the land below him and at the blond haired man watching him leave. He thought to himself that he had a good plan for his Xar and one that would make him think for a while at least, that he was getting him a portion of the south. At least until his masters returned and the entire north was given to him as Xar for payment of his services in order to exact his revenge and regain his brothers lost honor.
Invasion
The pale yellow winter sun over Tyrus emitted no warmth whatsoever on the land under it as it made its way high up into the overhead sky. None of this seemed to bother the tall Terian Northman as he gazed out over the mountains in the distance at the far end of the Highland Rim. The barren flat rocky wasteland served as a border between the northern lands and the lower lands as they were called by his people and he studied it for any signs of movement with his dark greenish brown eyes.
The giant black eagle like war kraal that he had raised since it was a tiny hatchling standing next to him nuzzled and tugged at his arm playfully with its massive hooked shaped yellow beak. He glanced over at the large bird and rolled his eyes a little in mock exasperation. He couldn’t actually blame the kraal for feeling restless, they both had been sitting idle in the almost winters cold and wind for way too long without moving and it was just now telling him that it felt the urge to fly.
The Terian war commander gently pushed large beak aside and reassured the bird with comforting words that they would be leaving soon. This statement seemed to satisfy the large intelligent creature and it stopped tugging at him and began to preen its long glossy black feathers instead.
He had done as he had been instructed too by his masters and had arrived at the preordained meeting place at the preordained time but as to the lowlander from whom he was to receive orders that he was to meet here, there still wasn’t any sort of sign.
Rynn Windrunner could feel irritation prickling his insides like a razorthorn patch under his skin. He was used to being in command and other than for his Xar, Kaman Baat who commanded all of the warcommanders, he kept men waiting on him rather than the other way around. He especially didn’t like being kept waiting out here on the barren flats of the Highland rim with nothing around him but rocks to break up the blowing freezing winds of a blizzards tail end as it howled across the open land.
Wrapped in only a snow wolfs cloak and hardened riding leathers, he stood as still as a stone in the biting cold, waiting. The only outward sign of his irritation was in his right hand that kept involuntarily caressing and gripping the bone white hilt of his sheathed broadsword strapped to his hip. He could he knew with just a tracing of a finger along his body, activate one of the magical runes that had been carved into him by the Saigan shamans and ward away the cold. His natural magics along with the runes that enhanced them would start a fire burning inside of him that would turn it away, but he chose not to do so. That was not the warrior way and he would not betray that code unless he was in dire circumstances. He was one of the black, a Terian warrior, and had a reputation to uphold.
All Terian warcommanders bodies are covered with numerous and different magical rune tattoos. The tattoos are carved into their actual flesh by the Saigan using their blood knives to amplify their natural powers for both battle and survival in the harsh northern climates. But today wasn’t a battle yet and he hadn’t been out here long enough to have to worry about surviving. Instead it was just a meeting that he was ordered to by his masters to which the other man who he was to meet was still late, he thought again irritably.
About a stones throws length away from him a brilliant bright flash sparked in the air drawing his eyes to it. Suddenly a bright red burst of flames appeared and started to burn away at the very air itself. The flames started small but grew fast into first a burning wall before spreading out into a fiery hole that appeared plenty large enough for a man to step through.
A tall cold faced imperious looking man with long almost white blond hair who could have almost been considered handsome if it wasn’t for the coldness of his ice blue eyes and hard face stepped through the fiery hole, then the flames and the hole faded away behind him just as quickly as they had appeared.
This lowlander who Rynn was supposed to meet wore red and black robes that were trimmed in gold and the war commander wondered as the tall man moved across the space towards him what kind of warrior this man was. Gold, he knew was almost always the color for the warrior castes of the south just like black signified them here in the north.
He noticed two things immediately as the whitish blond haired man approached. His robes weren’t like the robes that most of the magicians of the lowlands usually wore. This mans were leather instead of cloth and they were split in the middle in warrior style like those that marked the yellow skinned, dark haired warriors of far away Esia. That was when he noticed how the other man moved. His gate and stride as he came across the rocks marked him as warrior born and he seemed to be moving with a viper’s grace, quick, deadly and sure. Not many men caused Rynn to feel wary but this one with the way he moved caused a shiver of fear to work its way through him. The sword strapped to his back that stuck out from over one shoulder did not seem out of place on this man despite the robes.
Like the warcommander who braved the biting freezing cold without any sort of magical assistance, so to did Cyadine Syndell, royal wizard and advisor to the royal regent Vargas Salidor, ruler of the fourteen kingdoms of the south. He knew that he had to do so or else this Terian war commander would think him a weakling and the deadly royal regent to the fourteen kingdoms was far from that in any sense of the word. Once he had been trained for battle and warfare by the best known battlemaster on the entire planet
“You’re late!” came the sharp curt reprimand from the Terian war commander, once he was certain that the other man was close enough to hear him over the howling blowing wind that screamed about them.
Cyadine Syndell eyed the other man standing in front of him with a flat ice blue stare, almost as if he were checking his measure, then in as brusque a tone as the other man had used, said simply. “Are your men in place? Is everything ready for your supposed invasion of the fourteen kingdoms?”
The Terian warcommander almost blinked in angry outrage at being ignored in such a manner by the other man, by any man. It showed in the tightening of his hand on the hilt of his sword and in the tic began to spasm on his cheek. He was not a man who liked being treated with such outright disrespect or disregard. If one of his own men or any other man besides his Xar whom he harbored a deep hatred for showed him such outright insubordination he would have considered it a blood challenge. An insult of the direst kind and the offender would have died kicking and quivering on the end of his sword. Fighting off the wave of anger that threatened to wash over him, he did something that he was unaccustomed to and reigned in his temper, holding his outrage in check. For some reason he knew without having to be told or shown that this man whom the masters had sent would have him on the ground dead probably before his sword had even cleared half of its scabbard. The yellow eyed Elvynn master had informed him and all of their people working for them in this the forsaken lands as he called them that this ice cold blue eyed half mans words were the same as his own and must be obeyed in the same fashion. That he was the leader of all of the humans who served them and that if they expected their promised reward for service after they returned, they were to obey him without question as if he were himself.
“The time to attack is now,” Cyadine said in a soft hiss, as he continued to show no sort of regard for the commander’s outrage, in fact he disdainfully ignored it altogether. To have done anything else would have let the man think he was weak and that might have led to disobedience.
“The south will not act against you for at least a few weeks if you attack soon. The man known to you as the general Dalmar Ariass is dead and a civil war is on the brink of beginning in the low lands due to my own actions. That makes now the perfect opportunity for you and your men to wreak havoc and make them think that you are about to invade!”
Rynn knew Dalmar Ariass, the strongest military commander in the southern lowlands and he felt a slight feeling of remorse go through him when he heard the other man’s coldly spoken words. He had matched his own swords and men against the lowlander mashall of armies personally and had been defeated by the southern general twice. He had been looking forward to a third meeting and had developed a healthy and wary respect for the now dead commander. He briefly wondered what it was that had killed the commanding general. They were both as far as he could tell close to the same age and he should have lived for a few more years at least. Rynn thought ruefully that he should have at least lived long enough for him to have defeated him once.
“I will personally insure through my position that nothing will be done to stop you while you attack for a while. Our masters know that the time for the retrieval is drawing near. They know that their banishment is about to end and their orders to you are that you are to cause as much chaos in the fourteen kingdoms as you can manage. Draw all attention from the south, northward before the anointed time of the masters’ return.” Cyadine paused and leveled a hard icy stare at the Terian commander. “Heed this though!” he said it in such a way that it was certain that he wanted no misunderstandings. “No attacks are to be directed towards the west, towards our masters new homeland at all, is that understood.” Cyadine waited, not speaking again until the other man nodded in agreement.
Both men were agents for their Elvynn masters and the retrieval that they were talking about was supposed to be the time that the Elvynn banishment that had been forced upon them by the gods two thousand years ago finally ended. The Elvynn would then be allowed to return back into the rest of the world and become the other lesser races masters again as they had been before if they so chose. Already they had laid hundreds of plans in place for that exact moment and were now just waiting for the sign.
A little over two thousand years ago the Elvynn had ruled over all of the other races on Tyrus as masters to slaves. Until the slave wars during the age of might started the wars of power that had freed the other races from their control. Those same wars of power had also almost destroyed the entire planet as well. The gods themselves had had to step in using their avatar forms and save Tyrus from the Elvynn creational war wizards known as the Tua-latin. Then the gods had in of favor to the lesser races, separated them and made them all equals for a period of two thousand years. The gods had placed limits on both the Elvynn and human creational magic wielders, leveling the playing field between the races until the banishment was over. Once that time period was over all limits were lifted on creational magic and everything would be returned to normal almost.
There would still be one barrier in place but his masters had plans for that as well. Something had to been done about the taint of the magic in the founding city of Talathandria. After that nothing could be done to stop his masters except for another act of divine interference.
These acts by the gods had occurred so long ago that in most human minds they were considered a legend or a myth and most had forgotten exactly when it had occurred and never truly expected the Elvynn to ever try and return to power over them again. Most humans and some of the other races thought themselves safe in their cities and much too powerful now to ever again be made slaves. To most human standards except for those that live longer through the use of creational magic, this had occurred a little over fifteen generations ago. But to the Elvynn, who had a much longer lifespan than the other races it has only been a period just barely over three generations and the memories of it and their defeat at the hands of what they considered lesser inferior beings was still fresh in their minds and most Elvynn were eager for revenge and a return to power.
For two thousand years they have been waiting patiently for the events that would signal the beginnings of the end of their banishment and their return to the world as its master again and knew that their time should be coming soon. The humans and the other races had been allowed enough time to build their cities and their defenses against the return or the retrieval as the Elvynn called it but the Elvynn had been planning on such for the past two eons and were ready with plans already in place for their banishment to end.
Both men, Cyadine Syndell and Rynn Windrunner were secret agents for the Elvynn Tua-latin, the conclave of Elvynn creational war wizards in charge of preparing the way for the retrieval. These creational war wizards were able to wield all forms of original magic on Tyrus. Humans and the other races unless they were very gifted couldn’t work all of the forms of creational magic without the use of a magical artifact. Only the Elvynn or those with Elvynn blood in their bloodline or some exceptional humans can work the magic and natural energies of Tyrus without such devices. Cyadine possessed two, one the armor worn by his son and the other that was strapped to his back.
For humans, these special individuals were trained if they had the physical and mental abilities to be battlemages and only they were allowed to wield creational magic and only certain types of it. It had been for handling the forbidden parts of it that Cyadine had been refused from the order, not allowed to achieve his own black and gold robes. Only fourth slash or higher was allowed to wield all of the abilities of a true creational mage.
Creational magic for humans was split by the gods into several different ranges and usually a human mage could not use the clerical abilities of creational magic because those were gifts that were given to clerics of the religious orders by their chosen gods. If one possessed a creational artifact like the sword that was strapped across the wizardly advisors back which grants them all abilities, they could work any sort of magic that they wanted to and be protected from it too.
Cyadine didn’t actually need the sword to work creational magic, he was both battlemage trained and had just enough elvynn blood in his veins to work the magic without it or any type of device. But he liked the use and feel of the powerful Elvynn vorpyll sword known as spellbreaker in his hands. He had been in his younger days while training as battlemage taught how to work and use all types of weapons and was deadly with almost any that he put in his hands or was even more deadly without any weapons at all in his hands. Most people thought that a sword was the only weapon that he wielded and he preferred to let them think such. The cunning royal advisor knew well enough that if his enemies and watchers believed one thing completely they wouldn’t be expecting something else entirely. The sing songy voice of his despised battlemaster filled his head with his horrible accent saying, “Never let your enemies see all of your power or strength you wield unless it part of a greater plan. Let them see and taste the wine that you pour out of the bottle but don’t tell them about the poison that is already hidden in the glass that they will drink from.” He had learnt about things like this and a lot more from Trakiko Matsuri before he had been disgraced and cast out of the battlemage order by the ancient battlemaster himself. For years afterwards he had hidden his abilities and had let others believe that he didn’t possess all of them anymore.
The royal wizard and advisor to the throne of Kallamar had once been taught by a man whom he considered the closest thing to a father that he could have ever had. A man who was at one time the greatest of the Esian nations generals and who was now still the greatest battlemaster at the academy. Cyadine now used the most useful of all of those lessons well. Deception of ones enemy was the single greatest art in war.
Slowly the blond haired advisor began to lay out the plans and tactics for his staged invasion of the lowerlands.
Rynn listened at first with a skeptical expression on his face but then slowly he began to nod his head as the wisdom of the other mans plan began to take shape in front of him. After the first few minutes of listening to the lowlander he was begrudgingly shaking his head in outright respect and admiration. Gone were the feelings of cold that had been there before they had started planning. Now he hardly felt the biting wind blowing about them during their long discussion on tactics and strategies and as they finally finished discussing their plans both men looked at each other and smiled thin tight smiles of respect and each began to nod appreciatively.
The Terian warcommander had put aside all of his misgivings about this man that the master had chosen to be the leader. This lowland advisor was one who truly knew the rules of war and about how to wage it. He knew exactly what it would take for their masters and him to overcome the south. Rynn considered himself an able war commander but this tall blonde haired man with the cold featured handsome face and icy blue eyes truly understood how to wage war.
“Maybe,” Rynn thought in admiration, “even better than the dead general of the south who had defeated him twice.”
Once their discussion was ended, the Terian warcommander threw his self up onto the saddle of his war kraal. He pulled on one of the sets of the massive bird’s reigns and called down to the advisor saying that all would go as he had planned. Then he raked the bird’s sides with the sharpened metal spikes of his spurs and the giant black kraal threw itself high into the air with an explosion of gusting wind and flapping wings. A loud piercing scream erupted out of the bird’s throat and echoed across the barren empty wasteland of the Highland Rim.
As the massive black bird climbed up higher and higher into the cool air, Rynn looked out over the land below him and at the blond haired man watching him leave. He thought to himself that he had a good plan for his Xar and one that would make him think for a while at least, that he was getting him a portion of the south. At least until his masters returned and the entire north was given to him as Xar for payment of his services in order to exact his revenge and regain his brothers lost honor.
