Vol. III Chapter I: Duty and Sacrifice

The midday sun shone brightly over the wide grasslands and the distant valley, as the first outlines of Rivora slowly appeared on the horizon.

The cloudless blue sky, the soft breeze from the sea, and the cheerful chirping of birds overhead painted a world untouched by evil.

The muscular, three-horned draft beast let out a loud snort as the final stretch of their journey came into view. The driver leaned forward and patted the creature’s thick, bull-like neck.

“Almost there, my friend. A full sack of feed awaits you today, you’ve more than earned it.”

Then he glanced back toward the rear of the wagon.

“You still with me back there? We’re almost there.”

No response.

“Well, anyway,” the driver continued after a brief pause, “I’ll drop you off right at the marketplace. Don’t know where you’re headed, but I’m sure you’ll find your way.”

Lucius said nothing.

He sat crouched on the wagon bed, hood pulled low over his face. Her final words still echoed in his mind.

I’m counting on you, little wizard.

That’s what she had said. But how much time did he have left? What if they had already hurt her, or worse?

“Melissa...” he whispered in anguish. “I should never have left you behind.”

The guilt was unbearable. Dark thoughts crept in, fear of the one thing he couldn’t bear to imagine.

Is she… even still alive?

He shook his head violently.

No. I mustn’t even think that. Once I deliver the plans and resupply, I’ll go back for her. Immediately.

His fists clenched with resolve.

The muddy road turned to stone beneath them. Hooves clattered against cobblestones. The air grew louder, denser, life buzzing all around them.

And finally, they arrived.

“Well then. We’re here,” the driver said, glancing back with a curious look, as if to check whether Lucius was still there at all.

A second later, the wooden wagon creaked. Lucius jumped down, clutching the scrolls tightly to his chest.

“Thank you,” he said shortly.

The contact man gave a surprised nod before steering the cart back toward the road.

Lucius didn’t linger. He scanned the streets briefly, then strode straight toward the barracks, his steps quick and purposeful.

The sun bore down on the walls of the training ground, where he and his party had practiced not long ago. Black scorch marks from Tagunel’s fire spells still marred the stone in some places.

Lucius forced the memories away. With heavy steps, he crossed the dusty courtyard and pushed open the heavy doors of the command hall.

The scent of old stone, iron, and war greeted him.

Commander Marcthain stood hunched over a map, surrounded by officers. The emblem of Tiberun, the armored fist over crossed swords, was emblazoned on their tabards.

When Lucius entered, Marcthain looked up. For a moment, surprise flashed in his eyes. He hadn’t expected Lucius back so soon. But the look vanished, replaced by his usual stern expression.

“You’re alone,” he said flatly.

Lucius didn’t answer. He stepped forward, tossed the scrolls onto the table, and let his arms fall to his sides as if they’d suddenly become too heavy.

“I was the only one to escape…” he said quietly. “Melissa, Liviana, they were captured. Tagunel was badly wounded. I…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Silence.

Marcthain’s eyes lingered on the scrolls. His fingers rested motionless on the parchment before he slowly unrolled and skimmed the contents. No words. No reaction. Just silence.

Then Lucius broke it.

“We have to save them. Right now.”

Marcthain said nothing. He rolled up the papers, handed them to a soldier, and whispered something. The men left the room.

Lucius stared at him in disbelief.

“Did you not hear me? Assemble a rescue party. If we leave now, we can reach Sahzarun in two days. There’s still time to...”

“We’re not going back there,” Marcthain interrupted, calm but final.

Lucius stepped forward, fists clenched. “What do you mean by that?”

“Your mission lies elsewhere now.”

“What!?” Lucius’ voice echoed across the stone walls. “They risked everything to get us those plans, and now you want to spit on their sacrifice?”

Marcthain didn’t flinch. But then his mouth twitched. In a sudden motion, he grabbed a cup from the table and hurled it against the wall. It shattered with a loud crash.

“Do you think I don’t know what that feels like?” he shouted. His voice cut like a blade. “Liviana…”

He paused. Pressed his lips together. Then, more quietly, “Every single one of them mattered to me.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes. “And still, you’re going to abandon them?”

“This isn’t about us, Lucius. It is about lives being saved.” 

Marcthain stepped closer, his voice strained. 

“I told you we needed proof to make the government act. And thanks to you, the Yashari now believe exactly that. And what do you think they’ll do now that they know we’ve discovered their plans?”

Lucius faltered. No answer came.

“They’ll strike early, before we can reinforce the border, so they think. But that was our plan all along.”

Lucius frowned. “But… we got the plans so the government...”

Marcthain turned back to the map. “The government in Castruin has known for weeks. They knew Yashar was preparing for an attack.”

Lucius blinked. “What? Then why...”

“Our army is exhausted after the war with Valdrik,” Marcthain said. “A second front against a prepared Yashari force would break us. So we gave them exactly what they wanted to see, a nation too hesitant, too fragmented to act without hard proof.”

Lucius’ stomach turned. “So our mission was just a ruse? The stolen plans meaningless?”

Marcthain nodded solemnly. “Your role was to make the Yashari believe they had to act now, so they’ll strike us unprepared. But in truth, a Tiberunian elite army is already on its way to meet them here. We’ll be ready.”

Lucius took a step back, stunned. The room spun for a moment before he caught himself.

“Then we have even more reason to go back and rescue them. Once this becomes a battlefield, there’ll be no way to reach Yashar unseen.”

Marcthain raised his hands. “Lucius, I know what they... what she means to you. But if you go back now and get captured, everything we’ve built falls apart.”

“Then I’ll go alone. I don’t need a party. Just a few essences.”

Marcthain’s voice dropped, colder now. “Lucius, I won’t let you throw this operation away on a reckless choice.”

“Reckless!?” Lucius exploded. “You forced us into this mission. You blackmailed us. And now you talk about recklessness when all I want is to save the woman I love?”

His voice trembled with rage. “To hell with you. And to hell with Tiberun. I owe you nothing!”

Marcthain stood silent. When Lucius was done shouting, he spoke with calm finality.

“Guards.”

Soldiers entered the hall and surrounded Lucius.

“W...what is this? What are you doing?”

“If you refuse to come to your senses, you leave me no choice.”

To the guards, he added, “Take him to jail. Unharmed.”

Lucius struggled as they seized him. “You damned coward!”

But he was dragged away, his voice echoing down the corridor.

Marcthain did not look after him.

He stood alone in the command hall, staring down at the map.

And in a voice barely above a whisper, he said,

“…I’m sorry, Liviana.”