Each year the Kingdom of Khearia throws a festival in remembrance of one of their most beloved kings who had tragically perished along with his wife and second son. His first son, Prince Fabian, was the only one to survive. Witnesses claimed his cro...
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Demanding shouts oppressed the fearful cries of commoners as soldiers tore men from their beds and away from their wives and children. Sons, husbands, fathers; they broke into each house and took anyone fit enough to fight, abusing the objectors into submission by any means necessary; violence, threats, and insistence of their citizen duty.
ㅤA woman grabbed at James' cloak, her face blotched red as she sobbed. "Please, he's my only son! Please don't take him away!"
ㅤShe was quickly pulled away from him.
ㅤSwords and spears were thrust into these men's hands as they were rounded up, their bewildered eyes fearful as they were forced on and away from their villages. Although they'd always known their king could summon them to war, in an era of deceptive peace, the possibility had never crossed their minds.
ㅤWith no knowledge of where they were going nor who they were fighting, they marched on with the rest of them, going on from village to village, their numbers steadily increasing over a single day.
ㅤCatching sight of a troubled Alex, James had approached him to say: "Ignore them. A war is a battle of two, not a thousand."
ㅤAlex hadn't ever replied.
ㅤJames watched from the safety on top of his horse. Eventually, the tremors of news spread like fire. The villages started expecting them and, shocking still, that wasn't all they'd heard.
ㅤ"Is it really him? Oh the Gods, it's true..."
ㅤThe news of Prince Julian's return had finally descended on Khearia.
ㅤ"Your Majesty, the deserters are becoming harder to manage," Duke Chamberlain informed the king, pulling his horse beside him. "Many are taking advantage of the chaos to steal our supplies."
ㅤ"We expected this when we'd planned it," King William replied. "Don't waste too much of your time. Our rear is too slow."
ㅤ"I'm on it."
ㅤThe disorganisation had only gotten worse the more people they'd forced with them. This wasn't an army of comrades strengthened by their unity and sense of justice, this was a collection of commoners suffering the worst day of their lives for an unknown cause.
ㅤFor James, he only felt the tug of inevitability— the acceptance that this had always been destined to happen, even if he hadn't always known it. As his mentor had always warned: one couldn't run forever.
ㅤ"We'll be heading to Arkingham now, boy," King William said, donning his extravagant silver helmet, the plump blue galea stretching high like a crown. "We will be the ones to lead this pack."
ㅤJames didn't need to look behind him. The tired dragging of heavy feet, the shouts and the commotion all reminded James exactly what they were leading. He would pull this army from the front.
ㅤ"I'm ready," James stated. And it was the truth.
ㅤIt struck James painfully— the thoughts of his father, that he would have done exactly this many times before his death. King Leonardo had led many armies into the deserts of Ashad and must have done so confidently, sword in hand.
