Chapter 459: Chapter 456: The Dawn Before the Dusk

Chapter 456: The Dawn Before the Dusk

 

  A knock rang in Sabina’s study room. She glanced up from her desk and stared at the door pensively. “...Come in,” she said after a moment.

  The door creaked open and the source of her worries stepped inside. 

  “You wanted to see me, Mother Elect?” Stryg asked tentatively.

  Getting a closer look at him, Sabina noted he wasn’t a particularly imposing figure. He was taller than other Sylvans, but so were dire goblins, and unlike them, Stryg wasn’t covered in rippling muscles. He had a lithe body, wiry almost, with a hint of toned muscles peeking from underneath his shirt.

  His lilac irises were peculiar and though his pupils were the familiar vertical slits of goblin-kin, his eyes did not react to the light in the room like others. Something was slightly off, it reminded her of that man who had visited two decades ago. Perhaps the goblin in front of her had inherited more of his side than the mother’s.

  Such a thought didn’t bode well for her hopes and plans.

  “Mother Elect…?”

  Sabina looked up from her thoughts. “You came.”

  “You asked me to.”

  “You don’t strike me as the kind of person to listen to others. Your continuous  antics at the tribunal chamber are proof of that.”

  Stryg frowned. “I did what you asked during the trial. I played by your rules.”

  “No, you played the game, but you changed the very rules that the rest of us are bound by.” She scoffed with incredulity, “Or do you think there is another who could convince Lunae to intervene against her Elected?”

  Stryg looked away.

  “You are so much like your father.”

  Stryg’s pointy ears perked up. “What?”

  “Like you, he came into this city all innocent and naive like a child, and yet somehow he managed to take away everything I worked so hard for.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Aurelia was meant to be my successor. Thanks to your father she abandoned her duties and left Evenfall altogether. So I spent the last two decades trying to prepare this city for her return and our people’s rise to their former glory.” Sabina glared at him, but the anger slowly died in her tired eyes. She sighed, “Now none of that matters. Because of you.”

  “You act as if protecting our people in Hollow Shade is the doom of the Sylvan Folk. You said you spent the last twenty years preparing our people, trying to help them return to their former glory? Lunis would have ridden to war and protected their people, all their people.”

  “And Lunis is gone. Because their armies rode to war and defended the outskirt villages. Lunis was betrayed and the capital was attacked while their armies were protecting stray villages. We lost everything because we as a people could not let go.” Sabina stared him in the eyes, “Sometimes we have to sacrifice, even if it seems wrong. It is difficult, it is painful, but that is what it means to lead.”

  “...We also must pick the right leaders,” he growled. “Several of Lunis’ council colluded with the Ebon Lords. They helped betray Lunis and bring the city down. Without the right leadership, even the greatest city in the realm can fall.”

  Sabina smiled wryly. “And you think I’m the wrong leader? Perhaps I am. After all, I was unable to stop our people from being dragged into this war.”

  “We were always a part of this war, ignoring it did not change that fact.”

   “So you think you’ll be a better leader? Say you succeed, Chosen One; after you’ve ridden to Holo’s Shade and driven off the enemy, after thousands of your brothers and sisters lay dead in the mud, when you’ve won your war, what then? What will happen to the goblins living in bondage in Holo’s Shade? Will you liberate them?”

  “What?” Stryg furrowed his brow. “They aren’t slaves.”

  “Really? Being treated as less than everyone else, unable to pursue their dreams, forced to work menial jobs for their ‘betters,’ that doesn’t sound like slavery to you? Do you think the other Sylvan will see it that way too? After all their sacrifices, do you think they will be content to simply let things be as they are?” 

  “That’s…” Stryg opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t know what to say.

  Sabina leaned forward. “Or do you think our Sylvan warriors will turn against our ancient enemy, Holo’s Shade? If you truly fight for the goblins, then the answer is clear, and you should have no problem with whatever doomed fate befalls that city. But seeing as you keep close company with a drow and an orc, I wonder when the time comes, will you make the right decision?”

  “I…” Stryg stared at the ground. “I don’t—”

  “It probably won’t matter,” she cut him off. “The chances of any semblance of victory in this war seem slim enough as it is. Either way, whatever happens out there, I will not be there to advise you, I will not be there to make those difficult decisions for you. As Mother Elect I must stay here. Which means, that no matter what happens out there, whatever triumphs and mistakes befall our people, it will fall on you, War Master. Remember that, if nothing else.”

  “...Thank you.”

  Sabina looked at him, mildly surprised. “Are you mocking me?”

  “No,” he shook his head. “You may see me as some sort of problem, a disruptor of your city and its ways, but to me, you’re the woman who trained my mother. If she trusts you, then so do I.” He bowed deeply, “Thank you for your words, I will take them to heart.”

  Sabina looked at him, really looked at him, past the strange visage, and the unsettling aura. “You’re scared… aren’t you?” There was no mockery or derisiveness in her voice, only genuine concern.

  Stryg tried to smile, but it broke midway. “Yes,” he admitted quietly. “...They’re all trusting me, I’m afraid I’ll fail them.”

  Sabina pushed herself to her feet with what little strength she had left and hobbled over with her cane. With a shaking finger, she poked him in the chest and glared at him. “Do not fear your failures, it will only poison your decisions. Face your problems head-on. As War Master you may think of yourself alone in this endeavor, but it is the opposite. The might and faith of the Sylvan stand behind you. Do not do them a disservice by not trusting them as they trust you.”

  “Listen to me, son of Blood Fang,” Sabina grabbed him by his tunic. “I do not tell you all these things to make you afraid, I tell you so that you are prepared for what is to come. The night of battle soon approaches and there will be no room for hesitation. You will not fail our people because you cannot fail them. You owe them that much!”

  Stryg nodded slowly. “I understand.”

  “Then stand up straight and find your courage.”

  A horn blared in the distance.

  They both glanced at the window.

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  “Dawn has come,” Sabina whispered. “And now your burden begins.”

  Stryg glanced at her uncertainly and walked over to the balcony. He looked down from the Silver Keep and froze in mute surprise.

  In the dawnlight, thousands of goblins stood in straight lines forming a multitude of battalions. The sun gleamed off their armor and weapons. The horn blared once more and the drums of war began to resound to the roars of the warriors. A multitude of banners were raised proudly, each representing the 63 Sylvan tribes.

  It had only taken a few days and yet they had already assembled one of the largest armies in the realm. Stryg hadn’t thought it possible.

  At the front of the army stood proudly the cavalry of over 800 riders and their wolves. The personal banners of the Warrior Elect and the Storm Howler tribe stood at the forefront. Lykos himself sat upon a frost wolf that towered over its smaller cousins. 

  Another set of riders, far smaller, stood beside them. These riders were not wrapped in armor and fur, but blue cloaks, the symbol of the shamans. The personal banners of the Shaman Elect and the Frost Whisper were raised high at the forefront. A frost wolf lay curled on the ground next to them, Lumi rested her back on the giant wolf’s leg. 

  Arden, the Guardian of the Sylvan, and chieftain of the Frost Whisper tribe sat cross-legged in meditation next to Lumi. He suddenly opened his eyes and glanced up at Stryg on the balcony and looked at him expectantly.

  “The army awaits its War Master,” Sabina said from behind him.

  Stryg swallowed hard.

 

~~~

 

  The face of every warrior lit up and they stood up straight as Stryg passed by. The word of his arrival quickly spread through the men and women and they began to beat their fists onto their chestplates as he walked between the battalions. Cheers of his name echoed loudly in his ears in rhythm with the war drums.

  Virella, the Silver Mother, stopped by each of the tribes, praying for them before seeing them off to war. A small group of warriors, one of the smallest battalions, stood at one corner of the Sylvan army. Stryg recognized them in an instant. They were the hunters of his tribe, not just the ones who had accompanied him to Evenfall, but many others as well. They had come from their village, answering Lunae’s call to arms.

  The Blood Fang warriors led by his uncle Jahn spotted him and bowed respectfully. Stryg breathed a sigh of relief and made his way towards them when Lumi stepped in his path.

  “War Master, I’ve been waiting,” she smirked.

  “Shaman Elect. What is it?” he asked warily.

  “Did you think I’d allow you to ride into battle alone?” Lumi gestured to the group of blue cloaks behind her. “Your honor guard awaits. I have chosen each one of them carefully. They are elite warriors and mages who will ride with you into the fray of battle and if necessary give their lives for you.”

  A familiar woman stepped up from among the honor guard. 

  “Elayne?” Stryg asked, surprised.

  “War Master, I ask for your forgiveness over my— difficulties during our training session.” She bowed deeply. “And thank you for speaking with my father. He has allowed me to join the wolf riders if I wish.”

  Stryg cocked his head to the side, “Then why are you still here? Lykos would surely want you by his side.”

  “My father underestimates me, he only conceded because he thinks I’ll be safer with him. But I am tired of being underestimated, something I hope you can sympathize with.”

  “It is,” he admitted.

  Encouraged by his response she pushed on. “You will be riding in the heart of battle and you will need an honor guard who will fight tooth and claw to the end. If there is a glorious place to die in this battle, then it will be by your side. I wish to join you, if you’ll have me.”

  Stryg inclined his head, “I’d be honored to have a daughter of Storm Howlers by my side, especially one as fierce as you.”

  Elayne broke into a smile and beat her fist into her chestplate in a traditional salute. “I will not fail you, War Master.”

  “Room for two more?” a familiar voice asked.

  Stryg turned around and saw Tauri and Plum standing in front of him. A painful, but warm pang struck his chest. His eyes burned and he smiled. “If you’ll have me.”

  Tauri smiled, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Plum grinned, “What would you do without us?”

  A frost wolf trotted up to them, scarlet metal plates wrapped around its body and face. Aurelia rode atop its black saddle, armored in a similar scarlet color and a black cape hanging behind her. Her white hair was tied in a small bun behind her and the black wreath of the First Mothers sat atop her brow.

  Aurelia slipped off the saddle with a deft touch and landed softly. “I am coming with you,” she said in a no-questions-asked tone.

  Stryg recognized the scarlet and ebon colors of Veres she wore and he unconsciously wrapped his hand around Krikolm’s hilt. He had never truly considered himself a part of the House of Veres, the fact that he was even related to them still felt surreal. But as he watched his mother, a goblin, striding forward proudly in their House’s colors, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride for the surname he had never dared call himself aloud.

  A collective song of howls reverberated through the air. The air turned cold and a white mist flowed around the Silver Keep. A pack of frost wolves appeared atop the hill of the castle and at the center stood a 4-meter tall goddess clad in sapphire armor and a silver lunar crescent emblazoned on her chestplate. The entire army fell silent at her arrival, every goblin holding their breath in anticipation.

  “My children,” her voice echoed across the encampment. “Today, we right a wrong, three centuries old. Today, we do not abandon our own. Today, we are better than our enemies. Today, Lunis is reborn!”

  Lunae raised a silver-white spear high into the air, the azure flag of Lunis attached to its shaft billowed in the wind. “Are you with me!?”

  The army of Lunis roared in response.

 

 

 

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