General's Question

The General's usually stoic and unreadable face registered shock as he stared at Roland.

"I thought the items were important? Portal makers, if I'm not mistaken?" He asked. 

"Special ones, that the Void wants. If we destroy them, it might break the lure our city holds for its machinations." Roland's lips pressed together.

"Come with me." The General turned and motioned that the barred doors of the City Hall should be opened. A special knock ensured that the inside bolts were unlocked as well. 

The remainder of the Council stood inside, swords drawn, ready to be the last line of defense. Almost all older men, they were nonetheless steadfast in their resolve. The two new men stepped inside and the door was closed and sealed behind them. 

"Treasurer, the box that was entrusted to you?" The General asked. 

"Is safe." He assured with a nod. 

A tense pause made him stutter.

"O-oh, you would like me to retrieve it?" He asked in bewilderment. 

"Yes, please." Roland's patience was strained in light of everything he'd seen outside. 

The Treasurer scampered off, returning after several minutes holding the wooden container. 

"Here you are, everything exactly as it was delivered to me." The man said confidently. 

Roland examined the box carefully, noting with alarm that one corner was not fully intact. He dropped to his knees next to a lamp, carefully turning the object so that he didn't upset the contents. 

"Was it like this already when you received it?" He pointed to the place. 

"Yes, I did notice that. It looks like it's been chewed on by a rodent, doesn't it? However, the hole is small. I covered it with my hand while carrying it to make sure nothing spilled out." The Treasurer explained. 

"But did anything fall out… or get taken… before it came to you?" Roland worried aloud. 

"That, I cannot know." The Treasurer conceded. The prince sighed. 

"Of course." Roland gave him a tight smile. "Thank you for your help." 

"What will you do now?" The older man asked.

"Destroy them, if I can." Roland explained. He opened the box and began taking out the things inside. 

It seemed a random assortment of a few dozen small items: an ebony-colored stick, a beautiful translucent green rock, a smooth reddish sandstone mixed with amber, a block of yellow striped wood… the list went on. 

A fireplace near the door was meant to help mitigate the cold. Roland took the stick and shoved one end into the hot glowing coals. He had a sinking feeling that the destruction of items the Fae called 'special' would not be so simple as burning them. 

The Council watched for several tense moments, but the stick never caught fire, never smoked, and didn't so much as seem warm. 

Roland closed his eyes and thought to himself. Would it take magic to destroy them? Gwen had made it clear that she didn't know what would happen if the items were destroyed, but did she even know how to destroy them, if he wanted to do so? 

He thought loudly at her, but received no response. 

Removing the stick from the fire, he took it back to the box. The reddish sandstone mixed with amber would be his next try. 

The walls were decorated with various weapons, used throughout Klain's history in training and preparation of warfare. Roland walked up to a great warhammer and, with a bit of effort, lifted it down from its place. 

The remaining men continued to watch in silence. No one dared protest the actions of the prince that had saved them before, and was their best hope of saving the city again. 

Positioning the sandstone on the floor, he lifted the hammer over his head and brought it down with all his might.

A sharp CRACK resounded through the chamber, and Roland's heart lit with hope until he saw that it was the stone floor, and not the object, which had given up under the strain of the heavy strike.

"What do we do?" The Treasurer queried. "I have not the knowledge of such objects, let alone the ability to destroy them." 

Roland dragged a hand through his beard in frustration. 

"Anybody else have any ideas?" 

____________

Edmar looked out from their shelter in a stand of trees. 

"The snow is beautiful, isn't it?" He asked quietly. 

"I hate the cold." Brenna said bitterly. 

"Me too! It's never this cold by the sea." The man matched her tone. 

"Please stop talking." She sighed. "Let's just wait for Tamas to return." 

"I hope it's soon," Edmar tried again to make conversation. "I'd like to start a fire and stay warmer, but not until we know the gargoyles are gone."

"Why would they be gone? Wouldn't it suit Tamas better to leave them loose in this world to scare any wayward humans left into submission?" Brenna asked. "If there are any."

"What do you mean, if there are any? Tamas is destroying Klain because of its treachery. There will be plenty of people left elsewhere." Edmar wanted to reach over and take her hand to comfort her. She seemed so sad. 

"I'm not so sure there will be. Don't you know what we serve, Edmar? The Void is evil, and we are too." She sighed. 

He contemplated her words in silence for several minutes. 

"I don't think you're evil." He said at last. For himself… well, he had to admit he'd thrown away the lives of hundreds of his own men, if not more.

He'd also rallied an army of goblins to wage war on his people's allies. Of course, politics was complicated. That didn't make it evil, right?

"I am." She declared, glaring at him. He swallowed in alarm. He wanted her to like him, not hate him! 

"All right, whatever you want to be, I'm on your side!" Was that the right thing to say? 

She didn't seem to react well to that either. 

"If you insist on talking, How do you think the battle is going?" She changed the subject. 

"I don't insist on talking. I just like talking to you." His heart sank a little. 

She threw a glance at him. "You remind me of one of my guards in the jail. He couldn't keep quiet for more than three minutes in a row." 

That didn't seem to bode well for him. 

"You're not my prisoner," He said carefully. 

"No, you're mine." She pressed a thumb and forefinger to her temples as if she were getting a terrible headache. 

He let the matter sit. Brenna seemed set on insisting that he was there against his will. Arguing with her didn't seem productive. 

Edmar looked toward the city again. The snow was lightly falling here as the sun rose on the far horizon. The clouds diffused the light into a faint glow, but an intense blizzard blanketed Klain. He doubted any sunlight at all was visible there. Thunder and lightning concentrated over the populace like a tumultuous fog. Along the edges, he could see…

"Look there!" He leaned closer to Brenna, pointing. 

She didn't flinch away from him, to his delight, and followed his finger with her eyeline. 

"Is that–" 

"A giant… being fired at by—" 

"That flag. Cetoan?" She asked, squinting.

"Not just any Cetoan. That's the Commodore's flag. My father has come." Edmar stared forward. 

Perhaps the giant would crush him. It looked like the youngest giant. He couldn't remember its name. He'd petulantly chosen to put their names out of his mind after their queen stubbornly refused to call him by his correct one. 

It was a point of principle. 

The giant put something on the ground that ran toward the army of hundreds led by his father. The arrows stopped. 

"What's happening now?" Brenna scooted closer, a little out of the wind, peering towards the city. Edmar suppressed a triumphant smile at her nearness. 

"It looks like they're talking…" Edmar observed. Had a new person appeared, clad in dark clothing? It was hard to see through the low visibility of the snowy landscape. 

Suddenly, the new person exploded into a cloud of dark smoke. 

"Tamas!" Edmar cried in surprise. He wasn't sure what their leader had been up to since leaving them here in shelter, but clearly, he was at work preventing the new army from aiding the besieged city. 

Great tentacles of black streaked outward, absorbing what little light there had been in the area. One snatched a man and pressed him into the snow, holding him there. Others, like great whips, tore into the scattering army of Cetoan soldiers. 

Though it was hard to make out individuals, his father's distinctive figure was visible under the flag that represented his presence. A black whip wrapped itself around his leg and lifted him high into the air, dangling him above the men below. 

The giant surged forward with a roar that both humans could clearly hear even at this distance. The smoke ballooned into a great obsidian wall that slammed towards the young giant, knocking him soundly to the ground. 

"Will your father die?" Brenna asked with concern. 

Edmar hardened his face. 

"I don't care."