Preparation for the war on the mountain.
“Third position!”
Nellens Far'et switched his pose becoming erect both feet pointing forward his shoulders squared with his left hand thrust before him, palm out.
“Eighth position!”
Far'et widened his stance lowering his main body and push both arms up and backwards into the air.
“Incoming!”
In a split second the young Dynast lept back, pushing his arms forward, and gaining momentum. This softened the blow as he snatched Myar's incoming attack from the air. He held the hatchet mere microns from his face. It disappeared in a puff of Essence.
“We are done for the day, go rest.” Myar walked away form the other Water aspect. He would finish the second part of this exercise later, after Far'et had a chance to rest.
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“We will win,” she said. Alano wasn't answering any question, nor was she trying to steel herself.
Myar had settled into one of his “quiet times”. Most of the day he was loud, outgoing, irreverent. He was lovely. In times when he thought noone would notice, or care, he was silent, pensive, and on edge.
“Against the Fey? Yes I agree.”
Great, she thought, another non-answer. “And against Mnemon?”
“We still need allies. A fight against her directly would require more than a legion. It would be a fight of allies both martial and political.” He had quit speaking aloud and the last essence carried words were whispered into her ear.
Alano approached him, embraced him, and then pushed him onto the ground, straddling him. He whispered his plans into her ears, as she dove into him, providing the acoustic cover.
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Something started Far'et from his sleep. In the corner of his tent he could faintly see a shadowy form sitting in the entry way. He hand grasped for his weapon. It was gone. The figure put his hand to his lips, “Shhhhh....”
Far'et finally calmed, it was Myar who had snuck in. “It is time for some lessons in truth,” he said, moving closer to the young Nellens. “You, by being here, have chosen for your house a path on out side of this war.”
“No, they will know I was here just to fight the Fey.”
Myar chuckled, “Oh really? They will believe that you joined Ejava's army at the behest of the Scarlet Slaying Brotherhood only to fight a few Fair folk on the Imperial Mountain? If they would believe that then why hasn't your house already sent a legion to save the place?” Myar watch Far'et's face go shock pale. Youth had left him vulnerable to manipulation. Myar would force this twist into obedience. “If you listen to me very carefully, I will tell you exactly what you need to say to...” he paused for a second. Far'et felt a strange chill run through his mind, “... your house head, Nellens Arryssa so she won't throw you out to the Black Helms”.
Thirty minutes later, Myar left Far'et in his tent to return to sleep.
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The ceremony began the next morning in the middle of the Amarantine Spine with General Ejava presiding. It was to be beautiful and poignant, if a bit short. Myar's right wrist had been bound to Alano's left in a symbol of unity. The thread held to them a small piece of black and green jade.
“In times such as these,” she began, “We must take the future in out hands as these two have. These two have chosen to shape the fate of the Isle many times over, and I am proud to lead them into the next part of their shared destiny.” Ejava continued. His companions jostled about in hurried excitement. This was not the wedding that they had been expecting, but nothing about their lives was as expected right now.
“Raise your hands.” Clasped, their hands rose to salute the Imperial Mountain. “If anyone, has a reason, that these two should not be wed, please speak now or forever hold your piece.” It was the first time that the camp had been entirely silent. Whether out of respect for the ceremony, or fear of the two dozen Dragon Blooded and their combined wrath, the Legion was respectful.
That was why they heard it. A bowstring snapped. The binding and jade shards on their hands fell to the ground. Between their arms, perfectly caught, was a glamorous arrow. Ejava drew Thorn and turned, “BATTLE STATIONS!” The ceremony was over, and the war had begun.
