Book 2: Chapter 54: Peace Talk

  A light morning mist had sprinkled itself over the trenches and broken siege engines. Unlike the many, many unfortunate days before, there was no sound of marching boots that morning. In fact the was none of the normal sounds of warfare. No guttural howls of monsters. The front didn’t rumble end to end with the whip-crack thunder of released spells. Instead, there was the hollow stillness of a land that had grown far too used to violence, and seemingly had no idea what to do with itself without it.

  Henry leaned against the shaft of his halberd, his eyes scanning the trenches through what little can be seen in the fog. “This,” he said, “is the part that feels unnatural.”

  Kate gave him a dry chuckle in reply. “Unnatural? You mean the part where no one’s trying to kill us?”

  He just frowned into the distance.

  Alex walked up behind them, his clothes and cloak damp with dew, and motioned toward the command tent. “Briefing. Now.”

  Inside, the air was thick with the smell of coffee and anticipation. The many officers murmured around the central table where Captain Drenn was currently leaned over the battle map, propped up by his elbows. Everything was quiet until a messenger’s voice cut through the silence.

  “Orders from High Command. A ceasefire has been agreed upon.”

  The room stilled as everyone turned to the man who had made the announcement. The messenger continued, eyes flicking nervously to Alex and the other Striders. “Peace talks will be held in the enemy capital. His highness Prince Kailan has volunteered to serve as the envoy, he will enter Aeralith territory with only a small escort, as a gesture of trust.”

  Alex’s tightened his grip on the table’s edge. The stillness outside suddenly felt like a gasp of air before a scream. The words were a poised executioners blade hung above the command tent.

  Kate broke the silence first, voice sharp. “It’s a trap. It has to be. You don’t walk into the enemy’s capital with a smile and expect to walk out.”

  Captain Drenn stood tall from the table, his gravel-laced voice low but stern. “Strider Locke, it is not our place to question the decisions of the Royal family.”

  Devon pushed his glasses up, already shaking his head. “If anyone can pull this off, it’s Kailan. His influence is strong enough to stop this madness. If this works, it’s the best chance we’ve got.”

  Garret looked between them, unusually quiet, while Zach leaned back against a tent pole, arms crossed. His voice was calm. “He’s not foolish. He knows what he’s doing.”

  Eric stood apart from the rest, his arms fold in front of his chest. When he finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper. “Let’s just have hope that’s enough.”

  Murmurs from the other officers in the command tent washed over them all. Many agreed with Captain Drenn, but fair number of them were thinking the same thing as Kate. It all just felt too easy, too clean to be real.

  Alex hadn’t moved. He just look down at the maps spread across the table. All the territory line and attack vectors blurred together in his vision. His hands trembled at his sides from anger, or maybe, something colder. Without a word, he turned and walked out, the canvas flap snapping shut behind him.

  Kailan’s tent was quiet except for the distinct clink of buckles as he adjusted his traveling gear. Everything was awash with a muted lamplight, but the prince was still easily visible in his leathers and light armor. It was a simple attire, and yet still managed to carry the weight of royalty.

  Alex stepped inside without announcing himself. “You’re really going through with this?”

  Kailan didn’t flinch. “I am.”

  “This doesn’t feel right.” Alex’s voice came low, almost a growl. “You’ve made too many enemies, Kailan. There are too many variables you can’t control. You’re walking straight into their hands.”

  Kailan turned, his movements unhurried, eyes steady. “Peace requires risk. And if I don’t go… then who?”

  Alex took a step closer. “You think you can talk them down? After everything we’ve seen out there? You really think there is peace waiting on the other side?”

  For a moment, Kailan’s expression was unreadable, but his voice stayed calm. “Maybe not. But even a lie of peace is better than an honest war. If there’s even a single chance to stop this bloodshed, Alex, even just one, I have to take it.”

  Alex’s fists shook at his sides. He wanted to argue, to shake the man until he understood. But he couldn’t, the words felt stuck in his throat. Kailan ended to awkward moment with a faint, almost rueful smile. He stepped forward and clapped Alex on the shoulder.

  “You’re not just a weapon, you know. You’re more dangerous when you care. Keep that side of you. Too many people stop caring as the Heavens grind them down.”

  “Can’t you see that you’re being treated like a pawn?”

  “You think I’m na?ve, don’t you? You still think like a soldier. But I…” His gaze drifted past Alex, as if staring at something far beyond the tent walls. “I’m a prince, Alex. I spend my time thinking whats best for my people and the kingdom, no matter the personal costs. I was born thinking like a sacrifice.”

  Alex stared at him, but he said nothing.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Kailan’s hand dropped, and his tone softened to something almost personal. “Tell me, Alex, what would you find worth it to die for?”

  The question hung there, sharp and heavy, as Kailan turned back to his preparations. Alex didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The prince knew his answer already, Alex had already shown himself willing to die for his friends and his teammates. What sort of hypocrite would he be if he told Kailan he was wrong for risking his life for his citizens?

  “You know you’d do the same thing, you have done the same thing before. Risking your life for others.” Obby cut in here, his voice in its rare soft tone.

  I know. That’s why I hate this. It the right thing to do, but…

  “But, you don’t want to lose a friend, this Prince, either.” Obby answered for him, surprisingly astute. He didn’t think the little rock was learning how to understand humans so well.

  Alex starred at Kailan’s back as the man continued to get ready. For the first time, Alex reached out with his senses, aether sight fully active and brushed across Kailan’s being. What he saw was astounding.

  Peak Adept Tier.

  He had no doubt about the prince’s power now that he finally peered into it. The young royal had horrifying potent aether energy, his aura subtly rippled with condensed power under Alex’s gaze. It was even more than that though, he could see the prince’s tattoos clearly. They were a tapestry of complexity, layers put over layers, all pulsating with energy drawn from the surroundings and amplified as it was pushed through his body and into his soul aperture.

  Between Kailan and the Soaring Heir of Aeralith, he knew who would walk away the victor. Kailan was perhaps the most powerful person he had looked at with his senses. He was unsure about Celeste or Sylvaris, he hadn’t dared to scan either of them.

  He’s just a step away from Magus, maybe he can already make that step but he’s just waiting for something?

  Alex shook his head, deactivating his senses. If Kailan noticed his probing, he didn’t show it, simply continuing to get ready with his back still turned to Alex. It took a deep level of effort for Alex to simply turn and walk out of the tent.

  Was there still more he wanted to say? Yes, absolutely, lots even. But none of it would change the prince’s mind. He had to just accept things as they were. The Prince could make his own choices. It wasn’t like he could stop the man even if he used force, not with that level of power.

  So he walked away, out into the brisk cold of the camp to rejoin with his friends.

  ***

  The morning carried a weight the camp had no words for. Even the wind seemed to move carefully as it carried the smell of old blood across the hills. As usual for the area, a morning mist clung to every surface, rolling off the tents and the ridges.

  Numerous soldiers lined the slopes, their armor dulled by frost, weapons sheathed at their sides. They weren’t formed up to fight. They were there to watch and bear witness to a hope incarnate.

  The envoy formed below them like a photo coming into focus. Ten riders mounted on chestnut colored steeds, each wearing only travel leathers and light mail that gleamed faintly under the grey morning sun.

  At the front sat Prince Kailan. His armor was light, but the lines of it were sharp, every piece fitted like it had been carved from smooth marble and gold, precisely for his body and his body alone. He carried the banner of Terraxum himself, its emerald-and-gold cloth stirring faintly in the cold air. He looked ahead, not back at the thousands of eyes on him.

  Alex stood with his squad near the outer edge of the ridge. The silence was like a physical thing, pressing down on everyone’s shoulders. Even the usual camp murmurs were all gone.

  He felt Holly step up beside him, arms crossed. Devon stood farther back, fidgeting with the edge of a spell glyph as if holding it could keep him solidly anchored to the ground. Henry’s eyes were fixed on the riders, the chiseled line of a frown on his face. Even Garret, always ready with a quip, stood without a word.

  The envoy began to move. Hooves struck the cold ground, slow and steady. Each step of the horses released a sound sharp enough to carry all the way up the ridge. As the riders crossed the neutral valley, the mist curled around them like the ghostly fingers of the reaper itself, swallowing their forms inch by inch.

  Kate exhaled sharply through her nose. “They’re riding straight into a trap, well all know it. Why are we pretending?” she muttered, almost to herself more than anyone else.

  Devon answered, but his voice was cracked, unsteady. “If Kailan can end this war, even if it’s a lie of peace… maybe it’s worth the risk.”

  Holly’s whisper broke through the stillness like a thin thread. “It’s like we’re watching their ghosts leave.”

  Alex on the other hand, didn’t move. His fists were locked so tightly at his sides that his nails bit into his palms. The cold gnawed at the fresh wounds, but he barely felt it. His lungs felt too weak, his throat tight with something he refused to name.

  Eventually, he felt Holly’s hand slip into his own, her fingers entwining between his with a gentle squeeze. He loosened his anxious grip and accepted the warmth of her skin. It was a small gesture, but a welcome one.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. She didn’t answer.

  The riders grew smaller and smaller as they traveled through the reaper’s mist. For a moment, Alex thought he saw Kailan glanced up behind him, but it could have been a trick of the light, his own imagination.

  The of the envoy that was visible was the banner in Kailan’s grasp. It rose once more against the grey sky, a bright splash of color defiant against the monochrome, and then it was gone. The valley swallowed them whole.

  Alex kept staring long after they had disappeared, his breath slow, his expression carved from stone.

  No cheers rose from the gathered soldiers, no prayers were spoken.

  The envoy was gone. The valley was empty again, but to Alex, it didn’t feel like victory or hope. It felt like a wound left open, raw and waiting.

  For hours after Kailan and his riders disappeared into the mist, the front lines stayed frozen. No arrows hissed from the shadows. No monsters clawed through the trenches. Even the enemy camps across the ridgeline remained still, their fires distant orange dots that didn’t flicker with movement.

  The soldiers whispered at first, just small, nervous comments passed between them like smuggled goods, but even that died quickly. Eventually, like an unwelcome guest, silence settled over the camp.

  Later that night Alex walked the ramparts alone. He stopped at the farthest point of the trenches where the torches burned low, leaning his hands on the railing. He looked out across the no-man’s-land. The late morning mist, which had swallowed Kailan’s envoy earlier, still clung to the ground even then. Beyond it, the world was just a blur of shadows and imagination.

  Above him, the stars burned faint, yet sharp. For a moment, they reminded him of home. Of nights lying on rooftops with Adam. He thought of staring up at constellations whose names he actually knew. Now, on that world, the stars felt like strangers.

  “Peace should feel better than this,” he muttered to the night, but wind didn’t answer him. It just sighed past him, carrying on the silence like a secret.