The Liberation of the Sejuku

As the events of Rostov finished unfolding, the elder Illya and the others found themselves lifting the siege that their ally, Leuca, the chieftain of the Sejuku, had endured for nearly four months.

For four months, the Sejuku starved within their own gates. Their pleas for help had failed to reach their allies, until a month ago. It was a difficult thing to do. The coalition of Ugrics did their best to prevent Belomas from helping the Sejuku.

However, the elder Illya was insistent that they would attack the coalition from every corner — whether it was from the ground or sea. Eventually, the elder Illya took control of the coast from the coalition, who had taken it from the Sejuku prior.

The coalition did their best to shut down Sejuku from within, believing they would slowly starve them out and force them to come to terms. The Sejuku were viewed as traitors to the Ugrics, who believed them to be sell outs.

Leuca, the chieftain, was an ambitious woman. She wished to expand her control over her fellow Ugrics, but her attempt costed her. Thousands of her people died from starvation. The territory that she rightfully laid claim to was no longer hers.

In the four months she spent under siege, the political landscape within Ugrica had shifted. With the advancement of Belomas, the Ugric tribes were beginning to join the coalition that was formed by the Frans.

The Ugrics feared that Belomas was growing much more powerful. Especially with the news that Belomas was trying to take Rostov. To everyone in sight it became obvious what Belomas was trying to do.

They were trying to control the entire west. This was not something that could be allowed. Belomas was a force to be regarded as, and they needed to be handled.

On arrival, the elder Illya and Fedor stormed the city of Leuca. The city was in chaos. The dead had piled up at an alarming rate. At this point, they feared that their ally had died from starvation, too.

“Perhaps, we should have acted quicker, Illya,” Fedor said, his voice full of guilt and concern.

“There was no way we could have known what was happening,” the elder Illya said, his voice stern and cold. “We are here now. It took us quite an amount of time to lift the siege, but we must now secure the area and reclaim the lost lands of the Sejuku.”

“You speak upon these lands, like they were ours,” Fedor replied. “Are they not the lands of our ally? We are on equal terms with her, like we are with the Jarl of Stalavat.”

“Do not be foolish, Fedor,” the elder Illya said. “Leuca and Diana were mere obstacles to my plans. I had to tie up the monster that was Stalavat through marriage, and Leuca right now might not be in a position to combat my will.”

“As far as I am concerned, these lands are mine,” he continued. “Once I finish settling the matter here. I will send a messenger to demand answers from Stanillo. It has been a month, and I am hoping they continue the fight for Rostov.”

With the siege lifted, Leuca, a frail and weakened version of her former self, remained alive. Polochko, the man from Belomas that she had taken to help her rebuild her army, died from starvation twenty-one days ago. The man’s remains were not intact — Leuca had succumbed to cannibalism to ensure her survival.

When the elder Illya and Fedor reached the quarters of the chieftain, they did not see a comrade-in arms. They saw a ghost. Leuca was a mere fragment of what she used to be. The confident and ambitious woman that once existed was a mere thing of the past.

Four months of starvation had brought her to her knees. She did not even recognize the men that stood before her — she simply crawled away.

“You lived, woman,” the Elder Illya remarked, his boots crunching on the debris of the palace. He did not offer her a hand. “It is a shame that we did not have the chance to meet prior. I was told you were quite the beauty. But now you are nothing more than a mere shadow of what you were.”

“Illya, what are you saying?” Fedor questioned. The man was concerned at the tone his friend had taken up lately.

“The truth, Fedor,” the Elder Illya replied. “This woman is no use to us any longer. The only aid I can grant now is the tip of my sword.”

“If you kill her,” Fedor warned, his tone serious and concerned. “You will only contradict the peaceful coexistence policy that you implemented with the other tribes.”

“Those tribes still had a capable head to lead them on,” the Elder Illya retorted. “The Sejuku are mere shadows of their former selves. What makes you think these people will make a swift recovery? Please, Fedor, look at this woman!”

“She has lost control of her mind,” he continued. “We cannot provide her with the help that she needs. The only thing we can do is help the people that can be helped.”

As Leuca continued to crawl away, whimpering in the corner of her own palace, the Elder Illya’s hand remained steady on his hilt. He was waiting for Fedor to step out of the way, not out of malice, but out of genuine belief that he was doing the right thing.

“Look at her, Fedor,” Illya said, insisting this was the right course of action. “If we leave her alive, we risk leaving our front vulnerable. If we kill her, we do it out of good faith. Also, Fedor, have you not thought people would not believe she died from starvation? This does not have to be made public, you know.”

“Do what you want, Illya,” Fedor said, stepping out of the way. “Just know, her death is on your consciousness.”

With the path clear, the Elder Illya moved with the efficiency of a butcher. There was no grand speech nor resentment between him and Leuca. It was simply business.

As he wiped his blade, Fedor turned to his friend. “Now what shall we do? Set up another puppet government, like we have been doing?”

“Not yet,” the Elder Illya replied. “First things first, order our subjects at Nori and Belgae to bring supplies over. Grain, clothing, you get the gist.”

“Understood,” Fedor replied. “Shall we bring the physicians over too?”

“Yes, please,” Illya said. “Lastly, send an envoy to Belomas. Stanillo owes me answers to what is happening with Rostov.”

“Indeed, he does,” Fedor said.

“Well, get that done,” the elder Illya ordered. “Meantime, we will spend the time securing our new territory and aiding the people. The piling of corpses must be disposed of. They are the cataclysm of a plague, and that is the last thing we need for a population recovering from starvation.”

As the sun finished rising, the young Illya and his servant, Deva, arrived at Stalavat. Deva recognized the place at first glance, pointing out how it was Stalavat.

“You have been here before?” Illya asked.

“No, I never had the opportunity to visit other city-states,” Deva replied. She was fascinated by the shield maidens, who she could not believe were real.

As the two chatted, approaching them was none other than the shield maiden, Philippus, who embraced the young Illya openly. Illya was stunned by her embrace.

Meanwhile, Deva was led to believe that she was Diana.

“Illya!” Phillippus exclaimed, excited to see his face again. “So many good things have happened since you left! My sister destroyed the walls!”

“Destroyed the walls?” Illya repeated.

“The walls, yes,” Philippus said. “It is a long story, but it is better that you hear it from her. And who may this woman be?”

Illya looked at Deva, who grew flustered and scared that she had been noticed. “She is my new servant. Do not pay her any mind.”

“Hmm,” Philippus said. She looked at Deva from head to toe. Something about her was different. She did not seem to be a woman from Belomas. “Is there something you are not telling me? This woman does not like one of your own. Where is she from?”

Illya began to grow irritated at her questions, growing visibly red in the face. “It does not matter where she is from. Starting from today, she will be by my side. Hopefully, it is not a problem. I mean, a person like me can have a servant, right?”

“I am not saying you cannot,” Philippus replied. “It is just unlike you to have one. Is it necessary she follows you everywhere? Or can I chat with her?”

“Yes, it is very necessary she follows me,” Illya said. “Now please take me to Diana.”

Philippus sighed. “Okay,” she said. “You were much more fun to talk with last time, but like every other person of power — you have let one measly victory get to your head.”

The three reached the heart of Stalavat. Diana stands where the wall once stood, overseeing the men and woman cleaning the leftover debris. Illya was a bit surprised to see the men and woman together — finding the situation to be odd.

When Diana turned around, she left everything that she was doing. “Ilya,” Diana says, her voice echoing in the open space.

Philippus stepped forward, speaking up for Illya, who could not believe his eyes on the developments at Stalavat. “He has brought a ‘servant’, sister,” Phillipus said, pointing out the one thing that Illya did not want Diana to notice. “And she happens to be very cute too. They are oddly attached to one another.”

“Philippus!” Illya barked.

“Hey,” Philippus replied, shrugging at him. “I am just pointing out the obvious! I do not need you breaking her heart, you know.”

Diana took a look at the ‘new’ servant. She had never seen her before. The woman was dressed a bit too extravagantly to be a servant. Sizing Illya up, Diana stared into his eyes. “Illya,” she asked. “Who is this woman? Remember what we agreed on. We will always tell each other the truth. So tell me, who is she?”

Illya looks at Diana, then at the rubble being cleared by the people. “Philippus, leave us,” Diana says, her eyes never leaving Illya’s. “Go, Phillipus. This is a matter concerning me and him.”

Philippus lingers for a second, glancing at Deva, before turning back to the debris. The three of them — Illya, Deva, and Diana — stand alone in the center of the ruins.

“The truth, Illya,” Diana repeats, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Is she your servant, or is she another woman that you failed to tell me about? I will not forgive you a second time, so talk.”

Illya sighed, wiping the sweat off his face. “If that is what worries you,” Illya said. “Then, I cannot imagine how you will get the truth of who she is.”

“Now you have me feeling insecure,” Diana replied, her voice growing stern and cold. “Now you have me worried. What did you do, Illya?”

Illya takes a step closer to Diana, lowering his voice so not even the wind can carry his words to the ears of others. He looks at Deva, who is trembling, her eyes fixed on the dirt.

“She is not my woman,” Illya whispers. “And she is not a servant. Her real name is Eleni. The former lover of Alkibiades of Rostov.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Diana’s eyes went wide, her hand instinctively moving toward the sword in her belt.

“Remove your hand from the sword, woman,” Illya commanded, his eyes wide and serious. “There is much more to her story. The truth is that I was walking around the outskirts of Rostov, and I found her and Kynaios together.”

“The pair were mourning the late Alkibiades,” Illya continued. “I killed Kynaios. It was a swift and quick death. And I was going to do the same to her, but I hesitated Diana.”

“Why did you hesitate?” Diana asked.

“She is pregnant," Illya said. “I could not bring myself to do it. The woman has nowhere to go and no way to escape. The only solution was to bring her along, and give her the opportunity to raise her child. Whenever she is ready, she and her child may leave my care. Until then, she will remain at my side.”

“You killed Kynaios,” Diana whispered, her voice trembling. “He was one of the two people that I heard were being hunted down. The rest had submitted to Stanillo, except Kynaios and this woman. What makes you think Stanillo will stop finding her?”

Diana lifted her hand from the hilt of her sword, grabbing onto her face. She could not believe the foolish mistake Illya had made. Not only did he kill a powerful man, but he had brought with him, a ticking time bomb.

“I could not do it, Diana,” Illya said, his voice raw. “When I saw the life in her. It reminded me of Coria and my child. Not too long ago, my father threatened to kill her and the child if I did not leave her to marry you. Please, Diana, I beg you. Do not tell anybody about this…”

Diana looked at Eleni — the woman who trembled before her. She looked at the people around her, realizing her new Stalavat fought tooth and nail to get to this point. She drops her hand from her face, her eyes narrowing with a dark, newfound clarity.

“You ask me to hide a woman that Stanillo is actively hunting,” Diana said. “You ask me to risk everything for one woman that you decided to take mercy on?”

Diana chuckled, her smile warm and welcoming. “You really were worth taking that gambit on!”

Diana’s words left Illya and Deva speechless. They did not anticipate her to be so accepting. Deva got on her knees, kissing the feet of Diana.

“Thank you, thank you!” Deva exclaimed.

Diana grew red in the face. She quickly got Deva back on her feet, not wanting her people to see this. “Please, do not use such ways to show your gratitude,” Diana said. “It attracts a lot of unwanted attention.”

“I am so sorry,” Deva replied, clasping the Jarl’s hands. “It is just that I am so grateful for your mercy.”

Diana sighed. “I can see why Illya wants to help you,” she said. “If that is what my love wants, I will support him, too. However, you will have to do a better job at concealing yourself. I will provide you with clothing that will fit your ‘new’ role.”

“Wait,” Illya said. “So are you completely fine with this? Like actually?”

“Is there a reason I should not be?” Diana replied. “I mean, unless the child she carries is yours? Well, Illya, is it?”

“No, no,” Illya retorted. “The last thing I need is another problem. Coria, the child, Belomas, you, and Deva are enough problems for me.”

“Five problems,” Diana remarked. “You forgot the sixth. Your friend, Stanillo. He does not need to hear a secret to know it exists. That man is quite cunning. I would know.”

“Stanillo and I are close,” Illya stated. “If we are being honest here, I believe your nosy sister is the actual sixth problem.”

“Philipus?” Diana said. She looked over at her sister, who was helping the people clean the debris. “Do not worry about her, Illya. She is the least of our worries. I do not know how you are going to do it, but you have to make Stanillo believe that Eleni died.”

“And how do I do that?” Illya asked.

“Simple,” Diana replied, pointing to the dress and jewels that Deva wore on her wrist. “Leave her dress and jewelry on the outskirts of Rostov, but make sure not to leave them too far away. We have to make it seem believable that she did not make it too far.”

“I will handle that,” Illya said, looking at the golden band on Deva’s wrist. “But Diana, I came here for something else. Now that everything is settled, it is about time you and I get married. My father has likely learned that Rostov defeated us last month.”

“He will be insisting on learning the truth of what happened,” Illya continued. “After all, he ordered me and Stanillo to be the ones operating at Rostov. Bay was never supposed to be there.”

“Our marriage, huh,” Diana muttered. “So much has happened in the last two days that I forgotten about that. How does tomorrow sound?”

“Tomorrow!?” Illya exclaimed.

“Yes, tomorrow, Illya,” Diana said. “We do not have the time to wait. Your father is likely to send an envoy, and Stanillo will probably not like your behalf, again. He has already been deceiving your father. The man is on thin ice.”

“Good point,” Illya said. “Well, Diana, get Deva settled in and bring me her things when you two are done.”

As Illya and Diana prepare for tomorrow, the young Stanillo has finished settling the matters at Rostov. In two days, he succeeded in taking the city from the people. The people were not told how they would be governed, but Stanillo promised to give them an answer in the coming days.

Stanillo did not execute any of Rostov’s politicians. Those who committed suicide out of fear were ordered to be granted a funeral at the expense of Belomas. As Stanillo prepared to leave the city, he was met by an envoy.

The envoy was sent by the Elder Illya, who demanded answers about what Stanillo had been doing this entire time. The Elder Illya demanded an explanation for his absence at Rostov. The chief’s message was that he had failed to send an envoy last month because he had found himself busy with alleviating his allies from the siege.

Now he had put an end to the siege, leaving him busy with rebuilding the Sejuku’s city and their military. Additionally, the chief demanded an explanation on why his son had not been married to the woman from Stalavat.

Such a message brought the young Stanillo to quiver in fear. He could no longer beat around the bush. The Elder Illya was demanding an answer to the situation at hand.

Stanillo sighed. “Even a victory cannot be celebrated without more problems emerging.”