FAE the fight against entitlement

Prologue

From on top of the silver hills, Rampart watched as the great tree of the Copper Groves clan burned. The latest casualty of the Fae silver war was one of the oldest and strongest holds the revolution had. Ever since the war began two years ago, the Erlking's guard had attempted many times to infiltrate the half breed sympathizers without success. But with one large push, their army had finally broken into the city. Rampart and the other rebels fought as hard as they could, but the horde of silver, featureless helmets couldn't be turned back. Eventually Ozil's call for retreat rang through the battlefield. The destruction of such an important city would be a devastating moral loss to the revolution. One that may turn the course of the war back into the guards favor.

Rampart clenched his jaw as the fire leapt into the starless night sky. His mind churned, imagining what he could have done different. Would he have been able to help turn back the never-ending tide of the Nereus' guard? Probably not. But even with the fresh wound his vision bore into his memory, he knew it was a question that would haunt him the rest of his life. One that could never truly be answered. Rampart wrapped himself in his leathery wings. As a half fae, half imp, there were few cities that would house him in his youth. But the Copper Groves clan took him in, and only asked him to promise to help protect the city if it was in need. A promise he felt lay broken at his feet.

Black blood trickled down Ramparts chin. His fingers traced a sizable cut running the length of his brow. When had he gotten that, he wondered. His recollection of the battle was nothing more than a collage of steel and magic. Rampart looked for more wounds and found a gash taken out of his wing. Touching it caused a sting of pain which sparked a memory; the guard dragging away an unconscious Ozil. Rampart tried desperately to save his captain; however, the swarm of soldiers was too much. There was an impact on his wing he hadn't registered before, but now realized was a sword tearing through his flesh.

Rampart bowed his head and grabbed the horns that protruded from his temples. Ozil was one of the first fae to see past Rampart's heritage. He taught him how to fight, and even promoted him to ranks no other half fae have reached. Ozil was more than a captain to him, he was a friend and brother. Rampart's mind danced with horrible fates that could befall upon the man he's followed for so long now that the Erlking had him in his clutches. Two years ago, Ozil was one of the first fae to stand up to Erlking Nereus in his campaign against the half fae. Defying orders, Ozil had turned away from Nereus instead of slaughtering the innocent whose only crime was being born. If he had followed his king's orders, this conflict would have been over before it began, and the Erlking would remain uncontested for the throne.

His refusal lead way to Nereus' illegitimate daughter, Coralina, leading the half fae against him. Since then, Nereus has become more and more unstable. Continuing his reign by inducing fear amongst his people. Fear of what the rebellion could lead do, as well as fear of what will befall his enemies. Now that Ozil was in his grasp, it was likely he would be made an example of, to persuade others from following his path. Rampart knew it was likely he would never see his friend again, but he wasn't willing to admit that yet. Today's losses where too much already and giving up that last glimmer of hope felt like snuffing out the last candle of a dark room. For now, he would hold on to the belief of rescue, even if it was just a sweet lie to get him through the night.

Rampart huddled into a ball on the forest floor, wrapped in his wings. His feet would carry him no further, and it was unlikely the guard would think to look for anyone this far from the battlefield. This would be a safe place to rest for tonight, and tomorrow when the battle is no longer fresh, he could continue onward to find Coralina. She would have a plan; he was sure of it. If not, the rebellion could be heading into its darkest days. One way or another, this conflict couldn't continue much longer. Their hadn't been such loss of life since the war with the jinn, and the fae were still recovering from that conflict. Rampart could only hope the rest of his people would see their race were in its death throes, and their only chance would be to turn against their old ways of thinking and embrace the changes the half fae could bring.

But fear was a powerful weapon, and Nereus wielded better than anyone.