The Blood Lands

Chapter 1

An evening battle seemed like the most inconvenient way to settle a war. Wars were tiresome the entire time, but fighting in certain places at certain times was more tedious than others. People were usually tired at night, most children were being put to sleep, warm hearths were being put out by their elders. The night was for rest. This night, men were going to be put to rest.

This is probably the worst time for us to fight, but it's not like we have any choice. Lancel stood tall on the soft grass. This was his land, why else would he be waiting for a storm of swords to impale him. His land was mostly large trees except this one. Close to the borders with Segnovia, it was full of lush plains with thick grass cushioning Lancel's leather boots.

It was a cold night, but his soldiers were probably sweating. They know we have the advantage, but that doesn't scare the fear away. Their deaths tonight will be wasted. He was not scared, he had fought many skirmishes like this the past three years and battles didn't scare him anymore. Not because he didn't fear death, he definitely did. I will murder the enemies, but to what end? Another battle will not end this, I've been here four or five times since the start. We need to attack and actually do something worthwhile with the lives we are wasting away. Lancel knew he needed to do something more worthwhile. They needed to take the fight to the enemies, kill someone important. Put damn Drellidan's head on a spear and wave it around. That will definitely put a stop to this fighting.

His muscled arm gripped the handle of his Thracite blade, Stain. Lancel was a Thracen, someone who wielded some form of Thracite, a weapon or shield or even armor. His Thracite sword gave him strength, not just in its ability to kill, but in the confidence it instilled in him. Stain, you really hold up to your name.

Lancel's great-grandfather had forged it after gathering enough Thracite, a rare metal found in random mines all over Hastriel. It was so rare and valuable, people try to make a living off of searching for it deep in caves, endangering their lives without any assurance that they will find anything. There was proper reason for it being so valuable, not just for its rarity. With Kanna, it can cut through anything, Lancel thought. Only way to protect yourself from Thracite, is with another Thracite.

Old Lord Sadelyn wasted much of his life for the sword, and called it Stain to ensure that everyone remembers the bloodshed that their house went through for the weapon. Its four feet long blade was straight and sharp on both edges, and it gradually pointed in its tip. Its hilt had no designs or engravings, and it had a very short cross-guard. Lancel didn't think Stain looked impressive or imposing unlike those of the other cities and houses. But it works, and it works really well. It was designed to kill, and why use a cross-guard when its wielder was trained in maneuvering the blade to cut down enemies and avoid being hit.

That was all Lancel needed, an edge that made him a better killer than anyone else in the battlefield. Years of training went down the drain if when facing someone with Thracite. Wish I can face a Thracen. Its a waste of good metal when I'm just cutting down men with no chance of protecting themselves from me.

Lancel let the natural light gleam off his blade. The two moons were up and bright in the sky, casting its glow on the future graveyard. Another battle, another one Lancel was going to win. There had been many of these recently, ever since the Fardean army moved closer to Scalgue's borders. As the strongest settlement on this side of the Valse Kingdom, Lancel and his house were obliged to defend it. His father could no longer get up from his throne, much less raise a sword. I have the privilege of fighting his battles, but why does it feel like nothing is changing? I win every time but to what end?

Lancel wanted glory, and there was no glory in small squabbles like this. People already knew he was Thracen, on another league of his own. He needed to do something that was worthy of being Blessed. Charge through the Fardean castle by himself, cutting down everyone and making Lord Drellidan surrender, winning a strategic location for the Valse Kingdom. Even if he could just face another Thracen in the field, or any kind of Blessed - an Argon most likely - then he would get the renown he deserves.