The Exile

Chapter 1

"Get up," The commander said. "They've got questions for you." And then he snapped at Gern who was unconscious on the ground, clicking his eyes over to a large tent.

Gern quickly scampered to his boots to slip them onto his feet but was stopped by the commander, and so Gern instead ran with bare feet and only cotton sleepwear to the tent — an area which he had only seen mentioned in horrid circumstances. It was the quarters of the High Chaplain, the leader of this faction: the Celestial Knights. A meeting with the High Chaplain meant either a grand promotion, or exile, and Gern assumed by the commander's tone that it was the latter, but for that, he did not know why.

The commander approached him from behind and pushed him forward with the hilt of his blade, and Gern staggered forward, stumbling toward the High Chaplain. The High Chaplain wore gray robes tightened with a gold buckle and his head was obscured by a dark hood. He turned with his arms crossed, and from a lantern on the wooden table ahead a small shimmer of the Chaplain's face was revealed. A scar cutting through a thick brow furrowed intensely.

"Gern Tegus," The Chaplain started. "Do you know who I am?"

Swiftly, Gern knelt forth. "Yes, High Chaplain," With every word he breathed hoarse. "You are the greatest servant of the moons."

"And do you know my name?"

Gern shook his head.

The Chaplain slowly removed his hood, the light from the lantern filling in more details of his face. "My name is Parlen Onst." He said clearly. The scar over his brow stretched farther down his face, and each of his eyes revealed blind. There was light stubble crossing the deep wrinkles on his chin and on top of his head there was no hair.

"We Onsts have been the High Chaplains since there was to be a High Chaplain." Parlen said. "I assume you know of Werner Onst, my many greats grandfather." He leaned his face forward, and a glint in his eye expressed disappointment. "We bring order where there is none in this military, and in this moment, I bring order to you, Gern."

"I don't understand, High Chaplain," Gern said, before being interrupted.

"I didn't ask for your input." Parlen placed his hands firmly on the wooden table in front of him, looking across directly at Gern, who was still kneeling in respect. "Do you have any idea what you did last night, Gern?"

Gern thought for a moment, scouring his hazy memories. He remembered a fire stretching across a dry building, in which the roof fell down. He remembered a group pleading for their lives, and he then remembers running, and yet, even after seeing these memories, he shook his head 'no'.

"Is that so?" Parlen scoffed. He stepped forward to Gern and grabbed him by the collar, exiting the tent and throwing him down onto the sand outdoors. All soldiers around immediately turned firm and saluted the High Chaplain. "Gern Tegus is a traitor amongst you Knights!" Parlen announced. "He has earned the title of Officer over his heroic deeds, and yet, he has killed, spitting in the face of the moons."

Gern creased his forehead in disbelief.

And then Parlen nodded towards two Paladins each clad in royal heavy armor, adorned with beautifully shaped helmets all with runes carved into the steel. They approached Gern with a dark canvas hood and pulled it over his face. He gasped and groaned as they dragged him along the warm ground, with the small minerals of sand scraping along his legs.

They took him all along the camp until they reached the outskirts. The voices and reactions of his fellow soldiers became distant, and he was sure now that he was long gone from his home.

He felt that it was hours that he was being pulled, and after a while, he became much too tired to plead any longer. His heels were peeling and being scraped harshly against the terrain as it became rougher. It seemed now that it was just the two Paladins; some of the highest ranking soldiers of the Celestial Knights that were with him now, dragging him endlessly.