4 - Warrior Culture

To be a king. To protect her people. To build a place where she could decide who she wanted to live, who she wanted to die. It was that simple.

But how does one do that, exactly?

This was the question which faced Elethien as she found herself marching at the head of her people, numbering around a hundred Foresters at maximum. All of them were starving, all of them were dragging their weary bodies under the blazing sun, all of them wishing for a better life in this new ‘kingdom’.

It was definitely quite the sight to behold when she presented such an immense display of magic, the wings giving everyone a glimpse of hope into their future. She was like a saviour to them, someone who pulled them out from their purposeless lives. Her words seemed to promise such a beautiful vision.

But that was one week ago.

Now, in the endless empty plains, the lands ruined from decades of war and strife, there was little to be seen other than small dust clouds and half-rotten houses from ages past. There were dried-up riverbeds and mounds with the occasional parched bone sticking out, but otherwise, the land was completely flat, home to nothing but scavengers who roamed the area at night. Their individual food and water supplies were running low and some were pushing themselves solely on willpower. Elethien’s kingdom was already at threat to end before it even started.

However, from her four years as a mercenary in various battlefields, fighting for both the kingdoms of Trelven and Rhinn, this was a common sight. She and the others knew that, after marching west for a certain amount of time, there would be signs of civilisation, of fortified cities they could conquer and loot. They were hard to take, naturally, but those were the only ones that had enough resources to last them a while.

Fate had not spoken to her since that day, preferring to keep itself quiet. The only remaining sign of its presence was her sword which remained clean and sharp throughout the journey. Perhaps it was a trial of some sort, testing her commitment and determination to her goal.

For now, all she could do was to endure.

‘Say, Elethien… Our first target should be here soon, right?’ a young man by the name of Teion beside her spoke. Compared to the others, he was surprisingly energetic even as he lugged a heavy axe behind his back. Throughout the one week, he had consistently stayed at the very front, his radiant cheerfulness a stark contrast to most of the warriors Elethien had fought with over the years.

‘Hopefully,’ she replied. ‘Usually there would be at least a settlement a day’s distance from each other, but this is the Central Plains, after all.’

They were reaching more fertile soil now. Instead of sand and dust, there was now moisture in the air, the environment teeming with life. The summer heat was still unbearable, but at least they could smell signs of life. Still, there was no town or city in sight.

‘I can help scout out the area with a few companions if you want,’ Teion suggested. ‘We still have a lot of energy left in our bodies, and it’s always good to at least familiarise ourselves with the landscape, right?’

‘Come back before the end of the day,’ Elethien said. Even as the leader of her kingdom, the voice of the people she led was still important to the wellbeing of everyone. That was how she and her different companions survived, leaning on each others’ experiences in the harsh climate of war. And when one died, their ideas would at least live on, serving as a lesson for the survivors.

This was the Forester way of living.

‘Thank you!’ Teion saluted before he turned and faced the crowd. ‘Hey! Those still with a lot of energy to spare, follow me! We’re finding a fortress for our kingdom!’

Soon, Teion and around ten Foresters diverted away from the main group, departing further ahead while the rest of the group continued their cumbersome march. Still, it was not long until Elethien found a road, a stretch of paved cobble and dirt leading to what seemed to be farmland in the distance.

They were finally headed in a solid direction.

‘We are nearly there!’ Elethien shouted. ‘The road before us will lead us to our destination!’

The Foresters’ weary bodies were suddenly invigorated, excitement building again amongst their ranks. Their hunger was temporarily suppressed by their anticipation, their footsteps more light and quick than before. With Elethien’s white hair a beacon of guidance, they all now marched with revitalised morale.

The destination was near.

Soon, they arrived upon the fields of wheat and vegetables. Despite their intense starvation, they simply stood before the fields, not particularly knowing what to do. They knew how to loot, how to consume, and to an extent, how to preserve, but they just halted. Elethien herself stopped right before she entered the fields, staring at the vegetables but not laying a hand on them.

It was far too long since they saw a proper, uninterrupted field, the crops just growing leisurely away from the fires of chaos and destruction.

‘Everyone…’ Elethien slowly raised her hand. There was no hope of fully controlling them from devolving into chaos. She could only wish they’d not overfill themselves. ‘Let’s all do this calmly, with discipline. When the hand falls… you may loot.’

At the drop of her arm, the Foresters rushed out like a host of locusts. They devoured nearly everything in sight, plucking every vegetable from the ground before stuffing them into their mouths while collecting stalks of grain into their pouches and bags. The tranquil fields were soon trampled by many feet, the soft soil and complex irrigation systems beneath turned into a complete mess. Like hoarders they grabbed everything they could, fearful they would never see such a complete field again. There was no sense of discipline at all, very different from the strict control back when they served as tools of war.

In a sense, however, this was gratifying in its own way. For once they could live freely as they wished, filling their stomachs and roaming around without any ration, any order, anything to hold them back.

Elethien couldn’t care less about keeping them in line, herself being part of the starving horde. They were all overdue a taste of freedom.

‘GET AWAY FROM MY CROPS!’ a voice suddenly shouted from afar. It was a rather large, seemingly well-fed farmer, in his hand a pitchfork as he rushed towards the Foresters. His face was flushed red with anger, his body barrelling towards them like a battering ram. It was only then that Elethien noticed a house beyond the fields, a wooden isolated structure with only fields to surround it with.

In that moment, he was the enemy, an obstacle in Elethien’s path.

Elethien stood up from her hunched position and pointed her sword at the man, his figure still some distance away. Without a moment of hesitation, an energy blast fired from the tip of the sword towards the man. This was something every Forester did in battle: a blast towards the enemy, watching a fraction of their own life force being sapped away to take away another life. Without hesitation.

The man’s head flew off into the distance, smoke billowing from the rest of his body. He was dead.

It was the first murder since the foundation of the kingdom. Everyone continued to loot, not even noticing the man’s lifeless body fall to the ground.

After nearly emptying out the field, Elethien’s Foresters resumed their march. And finally, at sunset, when the air finally began to cool, they saw it.

A fortified town, complete with a small castle at approximately its centre. Elethien couldn’t see any sentries manning the walls, but it was assumed there’d be a garrison anyway. It was the case for all the walled towns she went through in the past. But that wasn’t the point.

They had finally arrived at their destination. And just in time too, as Teion and his companions returned… on horseback.

They were clumsily sitting on top of those majestic beasts of war, which was to be expected; they had always fought as infantry throughout their careers. Horses were an expensive commodity especially in Trelven, reserved for the richer noble warrior class. Even when they served in Rhinn, a kingdom that had far more horses, they could only watch the Rhinish charge on horseback while they fired their blasts from afar or engaged in bloody melee against fellow Foresters.

‘Sorry it took us a while!’ Teion said apologetically before he hopped off his horse, his bag filled to the brim with vegetables. ‘As you can see, we got, uh… distracted after finding a stable.’

‘That’s fine, we were as well,’ Elethien replied. ‘What did you find?’

‘The entire area is very flat,’ Teion reported. ‘There are many roads spreading in all directions, but I don’t see any army nearby. As for the town itself, it has two gates: one to the north, the other to the south. We’re currently facing the northern gate.’

‘Good. We’ll take a rest here, and tomorrow, we attack at dawn.’ They needed the rest. After their indulgences in the field, they were in an even worse state for battle. The prolonged hunger had weakened their stomachs, and with the sudden intake of food, some were already feeling unwell. Elethien sighed. She had practically no experience leading a unit beyond twelve people, but building a kingdom required much more manpower. If not for the Foresters’ own discipline from many years of constant warfare, it was too easy to simply desert her, a young woman with a fanatical dream of creating her own domain.

They believed in her words and followed her this far. It was time to prove it in battle. The rest she could only put in Fate’s hands.

‘What do we do exactly?’ Teion asked.

‘Concentrate as one and attack the gate,’ Elethien answered. ‘Fire with your blasts or attack it directly with your weapons. I’ll protect you all. No Forester will die tomorrow.’ There was no tactic, no trickery, no intelligence to her plan. There was just a strong faith in what Fate had given her: a power able to transcend the limits of magic, a quantity only possible to be drawn from an infinite life force.

And that was enough.

‘What about the town itself?’

‘We’ll collect everything in one place and distribute it to everyone.’

‘The people?’

Elethien looked into Teion’s eyes. ‘They’re not Foresters. What I want is a Kingdom of Foresters.’

‘I… don’t understand.’ Of course, Elethien could tell he was lying. There was an uncertainty in his tone. Well, if Teion wanted her to spell out exactly what she wanted to do, she shall.

After all, as a king, she would decide who to live, who to die.

‘Simple. We kill them all.’