Chapter 70: Where it all Began (Volas)

Thousands of horses trod south in the pursuit of the Dogs. Yet, we haven’t found any of them. From the northern and southern borders of the Galire Desert. There isn’t a Dog in sight. Every Oasis, every indigenous settlement in this wasteland of red sand doesn’t have a hint of their presence. Though precarious, it seems my efforts were wasted as the heat from the desert sun hammers my army. A horse died of heatstroke while one of my men needed to be carried out of the desert and returned to the North. The only saving grace is we are almost out of here, if I stay any longer my army will suffer and die from this heat.
Olivia can’t comprehend the desert. She believes the world is just one big forest with lakes, snow, and a long stretch of trees and grass. Her world is small, innocent. It boggles her mind when her eyes lie on a vast ocean of sand. The place is hotter than she can ever imagine. The sun scorches her white fur, besides giving her a warm kiss that she associates with.
I have to take her. She isn’t safe up North, and I owe her some protection, at least. She dislikes riding with me and being on the horse for most hours of the day without a break. Poor Olivia will complain endlessly when my horse has to climb up or down a dune. In Galire, there are thousands of them.
Every minute that passes, I pray to my Gods that I never have to encounter a Dog during our march. If we do, I hope we don’t have to fight. There has been enough fighting and blood spilt on this island, and it is time we put an end to it. But knowing their kind, they will continue to the bitter end to maintain their freedom. I can hardly blame them for their resolve, especially when defeat is the end of their entire race.
The tribes of Galire didn’t even greet or welcome us. Our arrival is only met with them pointing in the opposite direction from where we came from. When the Dogs went through the desert to invade the North, I was expecting the tribes to be slaughtered to the last. It is good to see that they are still around, though it is clear they don’t see us as any different from those who marched through their lands before.
For days, we continue our march. Our hasty advance slowed when it became clear to all of us that they were nowhere to be found in the desert. At this point, I doubt we will ever find a Dog at all. There is no one there. No fleeing enemy to fight us or hold their ground.
Huson is quiet throughout the march. Come to think of it, most soldiers are. But I worry for him ever since Jack fell ill days prior. He wouldn’t come to participate in the final days of the war. Huson should be happy to come, my second in command, a colonist given the highest ranks in our Empire’s history.
Instead, his expression has been darkened. The dark bags under his eyes make it clear he isn’t getting any sleep. I try to pry him to talk about Jack, as I believe his mind is always on him. He will only give me a silent remark, a gesture for me to move the conversation to something else. All I can do is respect his requests. It is clear Jack isn’t doing well at all.
Eventually, after days of travelling through the hostile desert. We finally arrive at the border of the South. Only to find nothing. No fortification, no army, not a single soul. My army looks over the hill, observing the South, expecting a fight. But there won’t be one. There will never be one.
Overlooking the open field, I let out a pained sigh. The realm that was lost to the Dogs is all so quiet. All of it weighs heavily on me because this is where it all started, and it will also be the place where it all ended. Some of the greatest battles happened here, our greatest failures that made us lose all of it. The city I was in charge of burned to the ground, the webgates connecting the South forever destroyed. Deep down, I want a battle. To lash out against the people who caused so much agony. Yet for some reason that I can’t explain, perhaps the Gods know that a fight is pointless and spared me the pain of losing any more men. In that state of mind, I agree, it is relieving to not be dragged into another conflict.
‘Why aren’t we moving?’ Olivia whispers to me.
‘This was our home.’ I whisper back while lazily pointing to the South. ‘We lost it all last year. All of it. Now we come back to reclaim it.’
She raises a brow. ‘Why don’t you sound happy about it?’
No one is, child. We are all expecting a fight, some sort of resistance from the Dogs from the desert or right here. There should be a battle right here, a duel that will mark an honourable end to the Dogs. Even though the battle will just be a sentimental one. Instead, the history books will mark this moment as a tragedy. Silence welcomes us. That is our victorious moment. I can’t speak for everyone in my army. Some might want a great battle that is far more satisfying than the ambush against the Dog King. Maybe they might feel the same way as I do.
But me? I don’t know what to feel about it. Furious? Disappointed? Devastated? I don’t know. I can’t be proud of this achievement, and it is clear from how Huson is looking over the field that he isn’t satisfied either. If there is something that I can describe this moment, it is a bitter serenity.
‘A lot of us have bad memories of this place.’ I lie to her. Though a white lie with a hint of truth, it is still a lie that is comfortable for me to tell. For there is no way I can even describe any of this to her.
‘Did you fight here?’
I nod. Not exactly there, but hundreds of miles south to the Lash Crossing and the City of Tundo. That is where I drew first blood, fought my first real battles. It was where I became a proper man. But not one I can be proud of.
‘General,’ Huson speaks up. ‘We should get moving. No point staying here.’
‘No,’ I respond. ‘We will move out soon. I want to stay for a bit longer. I want to remember what we have lost… the people we have lost.’
Huson's expression calms as he looks out once again. He understands why I want to stop here for a moment to recount the events of last year. The deaths, the shame, all of it. This war is the catalyst of what I’ve become, and I am not proud of it.
The grass seems greener during this time of the year; the place seems oddly beautiful despite all the hurt it has caused all of us. I suppose, if you take the meaning away, it is just a long stretch of land next to a desert. The South of our island is our home, a place all Cinari used to have control over. Now I am not sure who really owns this land. Do the Dogs still control it?
I suppose we have to find out soon. At the back of my mind, I wonder what Hannah might think about all of this. What will she say to me if she is still here? Will she be surprised that we made it this far, or will she see this as a disgrace of what we have become? If she is looking down on me from the heavens, I hope she understands.
Memorials will need to be built after this war. I have to honour those lost to this senseless conflict that should never have happened. Thousands have died, thousands more displaced. I have to honour all of the men and women who fought for our Empire. But there is something that scratches at the back of my skull, urging me to do the unthinkable. I should also honour the people we have defeated.