Chapter 82: Side Story 6 – Al-Shan Four Generals: The Ice Phoenix of the North

"Poets used to love to extol the four generals as the greatest symbols of loyalty and courage in Al-Shan. They rarely if ever mention the times when one betrayed the nation and had to be put down. Now that we had all four betray their liege, we just put the titles down for good instead." - Halmout Mansoor, Prime Minister of the Al-Shan Empire.

 

Al-Shan Empire, Diao-Nan island, Winter solstice, year 664 FP.

 

The thirteenth month had just passed, and the dawn of the winter solstice greeted the arrayed soldiers as they warily looked over the walls. Further in the distance marched the rebel army, of at least fifteen thousand men, triple the five thousand that remained within the fort.

 

Bahram Levi, second in command of the fort wondered how things had come to this point. The rebellion - more just an escaped princess and her loyalists on the run than an active rebellion for three decades - had taken a far more violent turn in the past few years. It had started when they made more aggressive moves which ended with the third prince's death four years ago. The retaliation for that was horribly botched, as not only was the Wind Dragon general lost, nearly half his army got folded into the rebellion instead since one of his sons turned out to be on their side.

 

In the four years that followed, the rebels had gained complete control over the easternmost islands, by hook and by crook. Some governors were assassinated in their beds. Others were demolished more directly by armed forces, while the emperor's attempts to gather forces and quash the rebels were foiled because the nobles prioritized looking after their own necks first.

 

Short-sighted selfish fools, the lot of them. The one attempt successfully gathered, a force of thirty thousand conscripted men, failed disastrously as the rebels just fell back into the woods and relied on hit and fade tactics. Out of the thirty thousand sent out only half returned home, with a decent portion of the missing ones turning to the rebel side instead.

 

As incensed as he was, Bahram found it hard to fault the deserters - some of which might be among those that came to besiege his fort today -, as they had every right to be dissatisfied. Since the emperor took his throne, he had enforced stricter rulings that greatly favored the nobles, as part of his promise given to those that supported him when he usurped the throne from his cousin.

 

Many of the rulings had favored the Aqwa people, the ethnicity that formed the majority of the current nobility of Al-Shan, the one the royal lineage belonged to. On the contrary, the Huan people that formed the majority of the populace was further sidelined, which led many to side with the rebellion as a result. The divide had been one that formed long ago, as the Aqwa established what became the Al-Shan Empire, although they never prevented the Huan from high ranks in the government or the military in the past. Unlike the current rulings.

 

Bahram never saw eye to eye with those rulings, but then again, he was somewhat of an unwilling supporter of the current emperor, who only did so because the rest of his family did. The civil war has cost him much so far, his son and two grandchildren had joined the army in youthful patriotic fervour, and were lost in battle just earlier this year. His wife died of anguish from losing her children. The only family he had left was his elder sister and her family.

 

To say that he hated the rebels would not be wrong, yet at the same time Bahram Levi understood well that the spark of the civil war they were embroiled in was lit by their own emperor. The blame lay to both sides, and he was just an unfortunate participant caught in between.

 

In the distance he saw his sister, Pasha Levi, the Ice Phoenix General of the North, as she surveyed the rebel army on approach from the wall. Despite the fact that the fort was her home ground, and that they were deep in the throes of winter, which empowered her Ice magic, Bahram knew that his sister had little confidence.

 

His sister had been the one to lead the thirty-thousand man expedition which failed, and she had only escaped by the skin of her teeth when the enemy's blood mage assaulted her. That encounter seemed to have left some deep seated trauma for his sister, and she looked at the rebels with trepidation ever since.

 

Diao-Nan was the second largest island in Al-Shan, and had multiple small forts built around its perimeter, with the large central fort as the command center. The rebels had assaulted the smaller forts simultaneously with precise timing, and if reports were to be believed at least half if not more of the forts were betrayed from the inside.

 

Because of those reports and the spectre of the rebel army that loomed over them, paranoia had run somewhat rampant in the central fort, and over a dozen soldiers were already incarcerated on grounds of "suspicious" actions.

 

It was noon before the rebel army arrayed themselves near the fort, just far enough to be outside of bow range. Bahram held command over the reserves of their troops, while his sister led directly from the walls, where she could make good use of her magic in the upcoming siege. His guess of fifteen thousand proved to be optimistic, as observers estimated the rebels to be closer to twenty thousand strong.

 

Conventional wisdom stated that a force superiority of at least three to one was needed to siege a well defended location, notwithstanding force multipliers like siege mages. Bahram felt pessimistic about his family's chances in the upcoming siege, but resolved to do his best with what life he had left in him.

 

After all, that was all he had left.

 

The siege started as on a signal, sections of the rebel army charged forth with shields held high. Archers from the wall pelted them with arrows, but only scored minimal success. It was only as they entered mage range that the charge was slowed, as his sister led the fort's mage cadre to bombard the rebel formation.

 

Retaliation from the rebels was swift, and came in an unexpected form. Pasha had soldiers with large shields stationed by her mages in preparation for when the enemy tried to snipe them off with arrows or mages of their own. Those soldiers proved less useful when a space magic portal opened literally on top of them and disgorged a single figure who dropped in their midst.

 

Bahram could not see what happened at the top of the wall clearly from his station in the middle of the fort. Even so, he knew it was anything but good when he saw several heavily armored soldiers - his sister's personal guards - tossed into the air before they fell to the ground below with a sickening crunch.

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He led the reserve troops towards the stairs that led to his sister's location even as tell tale signs of ice magic used at high power showed, a sign that his sister had gotten serious. Ice had frosted over some sections of the wall and battlements where his sister was, and Bahram rushed to her aid as fast as he could.

 

As he reached the stairs he realized just how bad the situation must have been, as he counted most of his sister's personal guards dead and crumpled beneath the wall. Some of them had great indentations on their shields, as if they were struck by a force beyond what a human should be capable of, and many still sported expressions of surprise and disbelief on their features as they perished.

 

Halfway up the stairs he received another unpleasant surprise, as a corpse toppled over from the top of the stairs and nearly bowled him over. The corpse was that of his grandniece's, his sister's only grandchild, dead from a lodged machete that went through her skull from behind. If his sister was unable to protect the child she doted on so, the situation must have gone beyond bad.

 

Bahram had a horrible premonition when he heard his sister's cry of grief and rage, coupled with a renewed burst of magic. A cry that ended in a wet gurgle, which made him wince. As he climbed to the wall at last, the vision he saw was one that he would never forget. His sister laid on her back, her body pinned to the wall by the crescent-bladed halberd that went through her torso, which she still grabbed at feebly with the last of her strength.

 

A tall, half frozen figure skewered by many spears of ice stood over his dying sister, a figure he remembered quite well from his memories. A figure from his past he never thought he would ever meet again, much less in circumstances like these.

 

The figure lifted their face and looked towards him, and despite the fresh scars and cuts that marred the face it was no different from the one in his memories. The same face, seemingly unbothered by the concept of aging.

 

"Celeysria?" He asked tentatively, as he strengthened the grip on his axe, which had loosened until it almost dropped.

 

"Bahram?" Cal asked after a moment of contemplation, which she needed to place the aged features together with the face of the youth she had once known very well.

 

More than fifty years ago, Bahram and Celeysria had known each other as friends, as her family had lived on Diao-Nan until her father's passing. Their relationship as friends had grown more intimate for a time, until she broke it off when she realized she craved neither the sexual relations nor the companionship he offered. They had parted on good terms and remained friends nonetheless, until she left the island and wandered after her father's passing.

 

She had been his first love, and he had never truly forgotten her. Cruel fate had brought them together again this day, but as enemies, one that had just wiped out the last of his family nonetheless. He was not a fool, and the corpses strewn around testified that Celeysria had allowed herself to be teleported right into the midst of a cadre of hostile mages and soldiers.

 

And yet she massacred the lot of them, and remained standing despite injuries that should have killed any man several times over. It had not taken a genius to put two and two together and conclude that she was the dreaded Blood mage on the rebel's side.

 

"Spare me no mercy," he said as he stepped towards her with his weapon and shield ready, his soldiers followed behind him with intense trepidation on their faces. He felt resigned, yet at the same time relieved of a burden. Life had felt burdensome ever since he lost his family, and some part of him rejoiced that he would join them soon. "All soldiers! Relay the message and cease all resistance after I die. This is an order. There is no more need for blood to be shed."

 

After Cal had charged the mages, they were naturally occupied with the danger in their midst, and the rebels had taken the chance, as multiple siege ladders were already raised on the walls. The rebels had climbed and started to fight on the walls, and he knew the fall of the fort was merely a matter of time.

 

"May I have a last dance, old friend?" He asked at Celeysria's battered figure as he held his axe and shield in a ready position. A faint smile adorned his face as he felt at peace with death that would soon come to fetch him. Across from him, Celeysria looked at him with some reminiscence and melancholy on her face, before she nodded grimly, and held her halberd in a ready position.

 

"Thank you," muttered Bahram in a low voice as he charged.

 

Despite his request, she showed him mercy at the end. His death was both swift, and nearly painless. His expression was of one at peace when death claimed him.

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