A Prince's Pride

*Aaron*

I let my hand fall into my lap, the phial held in my fingers. Oswald looks at me like I’m crazy.

“Surely, Your Majesty, you’re not thinking what I think—”

“Oswald, we have to get into Luxom."

"Perhaps we should go to Rullox and join the main force advancing on the city, Your Majesty."

"Your Majesty," asks Malta, "what exactly are you planning?"

"We can use these phials to destroy the blockage, enter the city, and meet the main force there. Perhaps we can even find a way to make the path easier for our main force."

"Wouldn't it be wiser to leave this tunnel blocked, sire? If we open it, King Zannir will have a way out of Luxom."

She does have a point. Additionally, my famous face would give us away fairly quickly. 

"And," adds Oswald, "we don't know how powerful those explosion phials are. They could cause the tunnel to collapse on us."

"And," adds Malta, "how are we going to sneak around if we're blowing stuff up?"

"Very well," I say with a sigh. "You've both made your point. Let's make our way to Rullox instead."

Seeming overwhelmingly relieved that we aren't going to blast our way into the city, Oswald stands and starts helping me and Malta pack up camp. Standing, the smoke from the fire is choking, especially when Malta comes in from outside the cave and dumps a bucket of snow on it with a hiss. 

Outside the cave, the Lower Reach has transformed. The snow storm is gone, replaced by the lazy drifting flakes from days before. Though the storm raged for days, the level of snow upon the ground seems unchanged. 

As we head out for Rullox, I can't help but realize these warming phials are truly amazing. Clutching it in my fist, the snowflakes that pelt my face feel like warm flakes of felt and even my feet, dragging through the snow, are warm as though they were resting by a fire. Judging by the looks on Malta and Oswald's faces, they feel the same. 

True to their claims, it only takes ten minutes to reach the wall surrounding Rullox. 

"The King!" one of the guards atop the wall shouts when he sees us. "Everyone, the King is here and Sir Oswald is with him!"

I hear cheering as we make our way to the gate, which swings open on our approach. Inside, soldiers are milling about, talking to one another. I'm wary, but happy, when I see there are Lower Reachers, probably residents of Rullox, moving about freely. 

"Your Majesty!" comes General Braid's voice. I turn to see her marching toward me, flanked by two soldiers. "I'm glad to see you. We are preparing to march into Luxom. Are you ready to take command?"

I nod. 

Over the next day, we make preparations to enter the tunnel leading into Luxom itself. The forces of the Lower Reach have receded up the tunnel to entrench at the city’s entrance itself. 

Unfortunately, I discovered that Oswald and I are the only two known who survived the earthquake of the hunting parties we sent out. I don't know where Gabriella is, but I can only hope she found somewhere safe to hunker down. 

Finally, finally, the preparations are ready. We line up in our wave formation around noon the next day. I've climbed up to the top of one of the two watchtowers sitting at the entrance to the tunnel leading into Luxom. 

I look out at my soldiers, all of them standing with weapons held fast, ready to march on my orders. Many of them will die this day, but I can't let that hold us back. 

"This is it!" I call out, projecting my voice as much as I can. I know my words will be carried back to the soldiers who can't hear me. "We've been preparing for this day for months and we stand on the precipice of victory. Today, you don't just march for me. You march for your friends, for your family, for your neighbors. You march for all of those harmed by the Lower Reach. You also march for them—" I hold my hand out, indicating the Lower Reach citizens standing by their homes, "—for they, too, have felt the tyranny of their king. And finally, we march for my father, the late King Theodore. 

"We've suffered too long at the hands of King Zannir. Today, we take the fight to him. Today, we win!"

All Midoorians present cheer, thrusting their weapons high into the air, and many of the Lower Reach do as well. 

"Long live the King! Long live the King! Long live the King!" they shout. 

I climb down and join the soldiers in the seventh wave, which is made up of mostly soldiers wielding sword and shield like myself. We've distributed the warming phials to those who will guard Rullox and they've been instructed to share them with the Lower Reachers, though most of them refused, still not trusting magic. I've divided the exploding phials up between myself and General Braid.

"Ready!" General Braid calls out two waves ahead of me. In unison, the soldiers roar. "Forward!"

We begin to march and the first wave enters the tunnel, followed by the next, then the next. When my wave enters, a blanket of darkness falls upon us. The torches held by soldiers every other wave seem to barely penetrate the cloud of nothingness that's engulfed us. 

All is silent, save for the footsteps of the hundreds of soldiers as we march through the tunnel. The quiet has an eerie quality to it, dense and almost tangible. 

As we march on, I'm awed at the scale of this tunnel. It must be at least four miles long, sloping upward toward the heart of Mount Zannir. As the end of the tunnel looms before us, an anxious feeling starts blooming in my chest. That's when the screaming starts. 

I can't see what's happening, but the throng of soldiers before us halts and pushes back against us. I hear weapons hitting flesh, but I can't hear metal on metal so, whatever my soldiers are attacking, it isn't human. 

"Get down!" 

I hear the warning just in time to hunker down behind the wave before us as the first explosion erupts. The force of the bomb throws the wave before me backward, knocking the wave I'm in back. The wave behind us manages to keep their footing. Most of them, anyway, and they stop us from falling down completely. 

When the next explosion goes off, I feel a warm sticky spray hit my face and see something horrible flying through the air, holding a sword. 

"Push forward!" I shout. It's horrible, I know, but we have to get past the opening where we're caught in the bottleneck. 

My soldiers let out a battle cry as they push forward. Another explosion erupts, but we push harder and enter the main sanctum of the cavern. 

At first, I think the mountain opens to the sky above when I see the sun above us. But it isn’t the sun. A large orb of light, electric-powered if I had to guess, is hanging from the center of the ceiling. How they got it up there, I have no idea, but it provides just as much light as the sun outside seems to.

The palace sits high above us, buildings surrounding it. Large banners are placed everywhere, all depicting King Zannir. Luckily for us, Luxom isn't surrounded by walls as Crown City is. Still, the city of Luxom has many high watchtowers positioned through the city. When I see archers position themselves, aiming at us, I'm hopeful the bombs have stopped. 

"Shields up!" someone yells as we continue to advance.

I reach behind me and pull my shield from its strap. In unison with many other soldiers, I raise my shield up facing the archers. Arrows pelt the shields in discordant thuds. One of the arrows slips through the wall of shields and buries itself into the shoulder of the soldier next to me. 

They fall back and the horde of soldiers passes them as we advance toward a group of soldiers standing between us and the city proper. I know the arrows will stop once we reach them as they wouldn’t want to risk hitting their own soldiers. I hope so, at least.

As we draw closer to the soldiers waiting for us, I know I’m right. The archers sitting atop the watchtower near the edge of Luxom stop shooting at the Midoorian soldiers in the front of the charge and stop altogether when the melee fighting breaks out. My forces spread out to meet the large defensive force, opening a path for the next waves to meet the Lower Reachers standing before us. 

When the wave in front of me crashes through the front line, a Lower Reach soldier looks at me, a sword in her hand. She rushes forward with a scream and swings her blade wildly. It’s immediately obvious to me she’s barely held a sword. I cut her down, sending her dead body to the ground, but I don’t feel good about it. 

The next soldier, also a woman, looks at her fallen comrade before looking at me with murder in her eyes. She charges forward, sword in one hand, shield in another. Her attack is better calculated, a jabbing thrust aimed for my chest. I swing my shield in front of me, blocking her blow and sending her staggering. When I let my shield down to see where she’s at, I realize I’ve underestimated her.

She plants the tip of her sword against the cavern floor and uses the momentum of her body to kick her leg up. I have no choice but to step back to avoid the blow. At the same time, I swing my sword up. If she’d been just a few inches closer, I would have cut her leg off. Instead, my blade grazes her. She doesn’t even cry out in pain as she throws herself into a roll before standing steady on her legs.

She lunges at me again, but is thrown sideways when Oswald collides with her. Another Lower Reach soldier panics when she flies at him and waves his sword, almost as if he’s intending to use it to push her away from him, and stabs her in the stomach. 

Something isn’t right.

“Oswald, watch my back!” I call out to him over the din of swords hitting other swords and shields. 

I turn on the spot, trying to analyze the battle. The Lower Reachers here are poorly trained. Their stances are wrong, they don’t have much situational awareness. Almost as if they were thrown out here without much care for their lives.

“Run!” I shout, when I realize what this is. Some of the Lower Reachers seem to think I’m talking to them. My soldiers take off, running toward the city, several of our enemies in tow. Unfortunately, there are still many people left in the area we were fighting when the underground mines explode.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” I hear the Lower Reacher who impaled his own companion yell as we run from the chaos behind us.

I find him and grab his arm. 

“You aren’t soldiers?” I ask. “Who are you?”

“We’re criminals. We were dressed as soldiers and were to draw you into that trap. King Zannir said he would pardon all of us if we were able to kill you, but fuck that. I’d rather be in—”

His words are cut off when an arrow hits his skull, shot from the soldiers in the watchtower. I raise my shield again and see many of my soldiers follow suit, using the slabs of metal to deflect the projectiles raining down upon us.

“Sire,” says Oswald, running up beside me. “We need to take out that watchtower.”

“On it. Follow me!”

Oswald and I run in a diagonal direction from the rest of the soldiers and the criminals of the Lower Reach, toward the base of a nearby watchtower. We stop twenty feet away. The guards standing at the base seem ready to fight for their lives, but it won’t get to that.

I reach into my pocket and pull out one of the exploding phials Milo made. Hunching below Oswald’s shield, I take aim, glance once at the confused looks on the Lower Reach soldiers’ faces, then throw the phial.

Time seems to slow as the small crystal flies through the air and hits the side of the watchtower. At the point where the crystal shattered, a burst of light like a mini sun blossoms and expands. A powerful wave of energy sweeps outward, obliterating the entire base of the watchtower and the guards standing below it. As I’m thrown backward, the watchtower falls straight down, crumples under its own weight, and starts to fall toward me. 

I jump to my feet and start to run as everyone around me breaks into chaos, trying to move out of the way. The watchtower falls with an almighty crash just as powerful as the earthquake that caused the avalanche.

When the dust and noise settle down, I look over the heaped remains of the watchtower and see what I take to be the main army of the Lower Reach filling the streets. They’re all staring at the felled watchtower in disbelief, same as my soldiers, the criminals, and even myself. I had no idea it would be that powerful.

As I look at the Lower Reach soldiers standing in awe, they part and a tall man comes forward, though he looks barely older than twenty-five.

“My name is General Howard Wistard,” he says. “I am in charge of the soldiers set here in the streets. After seeing that, I don’t want to fight you.” He drops his sword at his feet and looks at me before turning to his soldiers. 

“Are we really going to fight against that?” he asks, pointing at the watchtower. “For him?” he asks, pointing up at King Zannir’s palace. “‘Cause I’m not. Anyone who wants to follow me, do so. Spread the word.”

“What about the forces in the palace itself?” I ask him.

“Those are Zannir’s most loyal. You’ll have to fight through them. The rest of us are underpaid, overworked, and mistreated. Take the city. I don’t really care.”

“You’re not very loyal for a general,” says Oswald.

“I’ve been a general for three days. Zannir moved his other generals into the palace yesterday to protect him and I was only in the army for forced conscription.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Every man sixteen to thirty must be registered in forced conscription and serve in the military in dangerous times. Nearly all these men were forcibly brought into the military a few days ago. I have no loyalty to him. My wife just had a baby. Refusing forced conscription service means execution. I can’t let my daughter grow up without a father. I’m going home.”

And, just like that, Wistard walks away, disappearing into an alleyway. 

“What about the rest of you?” I ask.

Many of the soldiers in the street look at the watchtower, at the bodies of the archers who sat atop it. Then, one by one, they drop their weapons and vanish into the alleyways. Less than twenty of them are left and they push together into a group.

“Your sacrifice will help us show everyone else we mean business,” says General Braid from behind me. She walks past me, walking toward the soldiers, walking over the debris of the watchtower to reach them.

“What sacrifice?” asks a woman standing at the front of the group of soldiers.

General Braid stops twenty-five feet from the soldiers and reaches into her pocket. She pulls out an exploding phial and holds it up. In the light cast from the huge bulb above us, the crystal seems to glow.

“This one,” she says, and throws the phial.

* * *

Word must have spread pretty quickly for we only see a dozen or so soldiers on our way to the palace. The streets of Luxom are quiet as we make our way there. Once we reach the gates, we must only participate in a small skirmish until we are able to reach the palace proper. 

Inside, Wistard’s words are true. The soldiers here are better trained and put up much more of a fight, though they’re no match for my soldiers. Even here, it’s evident they know about our exploding phials and the watchtower’s destruction as many of them throw their weapons down as we approach. 

The throne room of Zannir’s palace is located behind a large, ornate door at the end of a long corridor. We don’t bother with battering rams. We don’t charge at the doors. Instead, I throw an exploding phial and the wood is evaporated by its destructive power.

Inside, King Zannir stands in front of his throne, surrounded by two dozen soldiers, a couple of them SOAs. Some of them engage us, but most seem reluctant after seeing what I did to the throne room door.

When the Lower Reach soldiers are defeated and King Zannir stands just inches in front of his throne with only two SOAs in front of him, he looks worried.

“It’s over Zannir,” I say, walking forward. “We’ve defeated your army. We’ve taken over the palace. Allow us to take you into custody so you can keep some semblance of pride.”

“Go to Hell, Heris,” Zannir says. “You two, take him!”

The SOAs look at each other for just a moment before they duck their heads and charge at me. It takes only seconds for my archers to dispatch them, leaving Zannir alone.

I start marching toward him, my sword gripped in my hand. 

“Wait—” he says, holding up his hands. “Let’s be reasonable. Let’s talk about this.”

“The time for talking is done, Zannir,” I say. I push him backward and he stumbles, falling into his throne before looking up at me with fear in his eyes. “Your soldiers killed my father.”

“And one of your citizens killed my daughter. He brutalized her after he…” he trails off, looking hopeless. “He left her a bloody m-mess on the floor of her room!”

“Criston is dead,” I say. “And while I feel for you, your army attacked Midoor more than once. You killed my father, helped the Red Hand, starved your own citizens, and used criminals to bait my army into a minefield.”

“Fine, the Lower Reach is yours! Just spare my life. I-I don’t want to die. I will swear fealty to you. You are my king now. How about that?”

“The Lower Reach isn’t yours to give anymore. As of this moment, the Lower Reach is a controlled state of Midoor.”

“Of course, King Aaron. Whatever you say.”

“Actually, I’m no longer a king,” I say. I see the confusion in Zannir’s eyes. “As of today, you can refer to me as His Imperial Majesty, Aaron Heris, Emperor of Theo, my new empire.” 

I plunge my sword into Zannir’s chest, right where his heart is, and give my blade a twist. Zannir cries out in pain, his body shuddering as the life leeches from him. Then, he’s still.

Sound explodes all around me as my soldiers begin to cheer.

A man is brought before me. He’s a large man, both in height and girth, with dark brown skin, blonde dreadlocks, and a bushy blonde beard.

“This is Councilman Richard Dellard,” says General Braid.

“Your Majesty,” says Dellard, bowing to me. “Thank you for freeing us from him.”

“Of course. Though we will have to stop calling you ‘Councilman’. Richard Dellard, as Emperor of Theo, I hereby name you King of the Lower Reach.”

“As the monarch of the Lower Reach, I swear fealty to you, my emperor. The members of the Small Council you’ve named for the Lower Reach are already in place. We are working to change the laws to match those of Midoor so we can be in compliance with Imperial Law.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I say, but I don’t bow to him. 

“What will you do now?” he asks me.

“I think it’s time we go home. My husband is surely missing me very much right now.”

“I can only imagine. But first: a feast!” shouts the new king. “To celebrate happy times ahead for the Lower Reach!”

Everyone cheers again. I think a feast could be good for us. A nice winddown after the war. I know there’s still a lot to do here. Sussing out the soldiers that are still loyal to Zannir’s cause. Getting word out there about the new laws. Reopening trade routes between Midoor and the Lower Reach so the Lower Reachers can be fed again.

But that responsibility lies on the shoulders of King Dellard.

“What is that?” someone shouts as a gust of wind sweeps through the throne room. “There!” 

I look to where the soldier is pointing and see a swirling pool of golden light on the wall. 

“It’s a portal!” shouts King Dellard. “Men, get ready to fight.”

I’m not sure what I’m expecting to come out of the portal, but the last thing I could have ever expected was Piper Dylan. Her dress is tattered and dirty and there’s a cut across her right cheek that bleeds freely.

“Your Majesty!” she says when she sees me and starts toward me. 

“Let her through!” I shout when I see some of my soldiers move into defensive stances. When she reaches me, I ask, “Are you okay? What’s happened?”

I’m still not sure if I can trust her entirely, but Milo’s letter said she was a bit like Corianne, which I assume means he thought she wasn’t trustworthy before, but thinks she is now. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. It’s Milo, Your Majesty. Zelda is the leader of the Red Hand. They’ve taken control of the Grand Palace in Midoor and are holding the King hostage.”

Oswald looks at me, his face stricken. When Piper speaks again, I turn to look at her and she utters the worst thing I’ve ever heard in my life. 

“She says you have to turn yourself in,” says Piper, “or she’s going to slit King Milo’s throat.”