When Gods Go to War

By Brian Rompre

The peaceful village of Tleth is set upon by evil, demonic creatures, and no one knows why. Almost the entire town is massacred, but one man survives. Young Layth watches his father die. He watches the evil creatures destroy his home and try to destroy him, too. Near death, he flees, with no idea that the band of demonic brothers was actually sent to find him

In his severely injured condition, Layth is visited by the gods, who bestow upon him a divine power. His new abilities make him the perfect weaponfor good or evil. Its up to Layth to decide on which side he will fight. When he is apprehended by the very men who ruined his village, their abuses twist his mind. Darkness is awakened inside the young man, and his sense of moral right is irrevocably disturbed.

Layth escapes, but he will never be the same. Now, a war rages in the world of Lionet. Layth holds the key to the survival of all that is good and right, but will his own darkness threaten to block out the light? With the help of a few peaceable allies, Layth will struggle to use his powers for good. He alone can conquer the demons but can he conquer his own immoral impulses?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 10, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462018147

Brian Rompre

Brian Rompre is a marine who served from 1996 to 2000. He is currently a registered cardiovascular invasive specialist working as a certified anesthesia technologist. His love for Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy inspired him to begin writing. He lives in Phoenix, Arizona, with his wife and two children. This is his first novel.

Book preview

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Prologue

The shadows danced upon the wooden wall. Darkness battled to engulf the orange hues of the flickering candle. Goblins and all sorts of cruel beasts lurked within the darkened areas of her bedroom, just beyond her sight, as they gazing hungrily at her. However, when she found the courage to look at them, nothing was there but the dark shadows.

She wanted her mother. She wanted to scurry out from under her bed to go find her, find the comfort of her arms that always seemed to banish all her fears when she felt scared. Nevertheless, her mother had been very clear when she had sternly told her to go hide under her bed; hide until she came to get her. She had seen the fear in her mother’s eyes, heard the quivering in her voice, felt the intensity in her hands as she had grasped her shoulders.

The little girl awoke to a commotion from within her house. She had heard her father grunting, and there were sounds of a struggle coming from the entryway to their little cabin. Feeling dreary as she got out of bed, she started to seek out her parents, when her mother appeared in the doorway, looking frantic, disheveled, half dressed in her nightgown, which she now remembered looked torn. That is when her mother had told her to hide. That is when she knew something must be terribly wrong.

She had been hiding under the bed for what seemed like an eternity. Strange noises had sought her out under her bed: strained screaming, fearful shouts, and voices that seemed filled with terror. She had not heard her mother or her father, not for a while now. Now she heard very little. Even when she strained to hear, she could not discern any sounds. The wind blowing through the cracks and spaces in the walls of the house created a low moaning and the shutters banged against the wooden frame, pushed inwards by the blowing wind, their loud protest to being forced shut. The moans terrified her. She never liked it when it was windy. That is when she searched out her mother’s comforting arms. There was no mother to run to now, just the cold embrace of fear.

She felt as though the space under her bed was closing in on her, the oppressive darkness threatening to envelope her; banish her from the light of life forever. Scared, she breathed heavily and rapidly; her chest heaved as she sought more air for her lungs. She wanted to run out and seek escape from the oppressive small space she had constrained herself to, but her mother had told her to stay in the confining area under her bed. She hoped her mother would come soon to get her and tell her everything was all right.

A shout sounded through the night. It was high-pitched, loud, sharp, and it made her tiny bones rattle. Her ears hurt from the vocal assault. She did not like that shout. It had just been a noise, but it sounded evil, primal. She hoped she would never hear it again.

There it was, again, one more time. Her heart was beating fast and heavy now, her breathing coming in gasps. She wanted to cling to something, but had nothing to cling to grasp. She pulled her legs to her chest and hugged herself tight. Her eyes were wide with terror, and they searched left and right, from under the bed, for anything that might enter her field of vision. She hoped she would not spy anything unnatural, something that would frighten her even more!

Then she heard something unnervingly weird. It was a thump, followed by the swishing sound of something dragging on the floor, something fleshy and wet. Repeatedly she heard the thump and swish. She did not like it. She wanted it to stop. She pleaded for it to stop. She moved her hands away from her knees and put them against her ears, trying to block out all sound! She wanted to shut her eyes too, but she could not. She could only think of all the noises that were inducing terror into her little body.

Silence.

After what seemed like an eternity, she released the pressure from her ears. She wanted to see if maybe the sound had stopped, hoping, praying. She had pressed so hard against her ears that a suction cup effect had developed, and when she tried to pull her hands away, terrible pain assailed her. A small yelp of pain escaped from her clenched lips. To her dismay, she realized that she had made a noise, and hoped nothing had heard her. However, the hope vanished just as quickly as it had come; a sickly moan came from what had to be the room next door.

The thump swish returned, moving closer, growing louder; the sound echoed through the wooden floorboards. She could feel the vibrations of the thumps in the floor now, getting stronger as they grew closer.

She heard a swish coming from the doorway, and spun her head towards the sound. She caught a sight that made her cry out a soundless shout of terror. A sickly looking foot appeared at the entrance to her room. She could see that this foot could not belong to anything remotely good. The skin of the foot was of a blue and black color. Missing patches of skin revealed yellowed bones and pus underneath. A few of the toenails were missing; the rest had bulged out because of an unhealthy growth festering between the nail bed and the nail. Unnatural ooze seemed to cover the foot entirely, giving it a glossy shine. The sight had been a terrible assault to her mind, but what made her feel real terror was the fact that the foot was sideways, the ankle resting on the floor, as if the foot was broken off and simply staying attached to the leg thanks to the putrid, stretchy skin.

Thud! The second foot appeared in her field of vision, standing as it normally should be, but as terribly sickly as the first. A sniffing sound was heard; a sound that reminded her of her father’s hunting dogs as they sniffed the air to track their prey. She also heard raspy breathing, as if someone was breathing heavily through clenched teeth.

The sight drove her mad with terror! She screamed out for her mother, shutting her eyes tight and holding her legs against her chest, making herself as small as she could. Her mother would come save her, she always did! It would be okay. It always was.

She never saw the fleshless hand that reached under the bed to drag her away. Never saw the dead, unblinking eyes that looked upon her. She was numb to the feeling of a hand wrapping itself around her neck to squeeze the life from her. She wouldn’t notice anything anymore.

She belonged to evil!

Chapter 1

Raustag walked along the dimly lit hallway. A small breeze had invaded the castle, flowing around him; causing his blue cape to flap and making his long red hair tickle his ears.

A messenger had arrived in the barracks earlier and had sought him out as he was putting some of the initiates through their paces. He had been informed that Lord Silkon demanded his presence with the greatest of haste.

After delegating the training regimen to one of the Brothers, Raustag had donned his mighty silver armor, and the beast of a man had taken the short walk down the wide avenues of Siranet, arriving at the Order’s fortress in a short amount of time.

Even though he was a seasoned warrior in the best physical shape, he had broken a sweat by the time he reached the floor where Silkon had elected to have his offices. Raustag could not fathom why Silkon believed his high offices demonstrated his superiority rather than be a leader amongst his own men.

His armored boots echoed down the hallway, reverberating clearly off the massive stones from which the building had been constructed. Soon enough, he spotted the large doors illuminated by the flickering torches; he had arrived at the border of Lord Silkon’s domain. He lifted a hand and pounded on the door.

Enter

When Lord Silkon spoke, his voice was deeper than someone would have expected of a sickly thin man. Yet one could sense the venom of contempt for the world that he held towards everyone. Some of the men whispered questions behind his back: they wondered how or why he would have even been allowed to become a Protector.

The large double doors opened and the armored mountain of a man walked through. The few candles that barely illuminated the room caught on the perfectly polished surface of his massive armor causing Lord Silkon’s beady eyes to squint as he hid his face under a large hood.

Lord Silkon, I am here as you have requested.

Lord Silkon’s smile was hidden in the shadows of his garb. Silkon enjoyed his position over the man that had plagued him and his reputation in the Order. Now that he had maneuvered successfully higher in the ranks of the Order, Raustag’s banter would never again be able to damage his plans.

I have had a vision, Raustag, and the Prime Protector has agreed to their validity.

Raustag stroked his red beard as he was lost in thought and looked upon his superior with a questioning look.

I thought the Prime Protector gave little weight to visions as they are easy to manufacture?

Silkon coughed and a bony finger extended from the hidden folds of his robes, to be pointed at the man who stood defiantly in front of him. Do you dare doubt my words and name them as though they spell a lie?

Raustag bowed his head, yet his blue eyes refused to show apologies.

My mistake, Lord Silkon, if my words have brought up thoughts of such an offense. I only remember the only time the Prime Protector has trusted in a vision that had brought the whole Kingdom on the brink of war. Ever since, he had decreed that no weight should ever be hoisted upon visions, only proven facts. Raustag straightened up once again before continuing. Of course, coming from one of his trusted advisors, he may have reconsidered.

The person of smaller stature in sitting in the large chair in front of Raustag bowed his hooded head.

And that he has. The vision is a warning from the gods, and the reason for your summons, as so ordered by the Prime Protector.

And what task shall I undertake?

An evil has arisen in the West. It has not been divined what exactly this evil is, nor if it is one entity, but it has been showed to me as all-consuming, something that will threaten not only the safety of the Kingdom of Lionet, but of every other Kingdom and Empire.

Silkon produced a scroll and threw it onto his desk.

The written orders from the Prime Protector. You are to dispatch one of your best men from Camplet, with a detachment of the regional guard, and search out the western reaches of the Kingdom for this evil.

Raustag placed a gauntleted hand upon the pommel of the large mace that hung from his hip. The weapon seemed to glow with a soft blue light as tiny electrical discharges played along its surface.

Is that all sir?

The hood shook. Slowly, the small frame of Lord Silkon arose from the large chair he had been sitting upon. The heavy robes swished against the ground as the man moved from behind the large desk that could have served as a defensive position. He walked to the wall of his chamber, running a hand against an old tattered battle standard that hung from the ceiling.

Raustag waited patiently as he looked at his superior. As the hooded figure stroked the standard, Raustag had to force himself not to wretch in disgust at the display; Silkon had never once tasted the gamble of battle. Instead, as brothers died for justice and honor, Silkon had always positioned himself out of harm’s reach, near the rear or in areas so heavily laden with defenses that the enemy had spared them no thought in their assaults.

The hood turned to face Raustag.

There is another task the Prime wishes completed; a task he deems as important as vanquishing evil in all of its forms. I have been shown that a being exists in the western regions, a force that has not reached its potential yet, but one that could be molded by the forces of evil into a great weapon that would secure their victory. Silkon walked past the statuesque Protector, falling into shadows behind him.

Then we should secure him to be turned into a warrior of light and justice Raustag stated.

The shuffling of feet stopped.

Mayhap, but for now, you shall have your man find this person, and bring him before me. His fate shall then be decided.

Raustag didn’t like that the snake stood behind him within the shadows. Even though Silkon lacked in stature, he did not lack in skills. Maneuvering, plotting, and strategizing: Silkon grasped those as if his mind were a trap clasped around an animal’s foot, yet the diminutive man did have certain other more lethal skills, especially when striking from the shadows.

Lord Silkon, is there-

Address me by my rank, Commander.

As you wish, Thricius Silkon. Raustag almost spit out the word and Silkon’s hidden smile at the man’s displeasure was well hidden in the shadows.

Raustag couldn’t believe the gods would have granted this man this high of a position within the Order of their most powerful holy warriors. That this conniving snake had skipped being a Commander to rise to the rank of a Thricius, one step away from Secundus and then Prime, was indeed unbelievable. The steps to the rise in the order were established for a reason; one was never supposed to reach the higher echelons of the Order unless they were able to prove themselves a worthy and honorable combatant on the field of battle; and able to prove themselves of clear thought while leading their men into battle. Silkon had never proven himself in such a way.

Now resume the question you had started to ask.

Silkon’s robed shape resumed its shuffling, walking around Raustag not unlike a shark.

Thricius, is there any inkling as to where we should search out this being or what we should be searching for?

Yes, Silkon’s beady eyes stared directly into Raustag’s as he lifted his head towards the taller man, tell him to start his search in the Village of Tleth. The gods have shown me a conundrum; a man that has arrived in his parent’s lives in a most unnatural way. And he should have white hair, but I feel that this trait is of lesser importance than the first.

Raustag nodded, somewhat perplexed, and started to walk out of the chamber. Silkon watched the titanic figure depart, smiling once again. Little did the brainless brute know that he was now going to aid Silkon in his rise, a rise that would see the Order of Protectors undone, and give Silkon a weapon to use in forging a new Order, and Order capable of dominating the weak souls the King of this land was so intent on protecting. His new Order would be a power to behold; one not even this evil sentience in the West would be able to match!

The scythe swung, slicing the stalks of wheat as the sharpened blade met vegetation. Layth hefted the tool once again and brought it down on another patch of wheat. Sweat covered his brow and his disheveled shoulder length blond hair was wet with sweat.

He stopped for a moment and leaned on the scythe as he took a breath. He used the front of his shirt to wipe away the annoying beads of perspiration that were clinging to his forehead.

Layth, get back to work and do it with more gusto than the limp effort you have been giving this afternoon.

Standing at the edge of the field, near their home, he could see his father staring at him with his fists on his hips. Layth cast his piercing blue eyes upon Astlo, who returned the stare in kind with a tinge of anger, causing Layth to wince; his father was no man to trifle with. Even though he was physically larger than Astlo, Layth was still easily intimidated by his father.

Astlo had a tendency to cast a large shadow even if he did not number amongst the tallest men. He was stocky, his muscles were well defined, and the many calluses on his hands spoke of the physical labor he was used to enduring. His bald head and hard stare seemed to be the perfect fit for the brutal honesty and the high morals the man had chosen to live his life by.

Layth had spent many days cursing his father’s demands, as he toiled away in the wheat fields, or while working in the smithy during the colder days after harvest. His father would never let him get away with the barest of efforts; he had always demanded and expected the best from him. And that is how Layth had grown up, raised to be a man who always did his best, and in most times, exceeding the expected, spurred on by the values his father had instilled in him.

Father, could you just give me a little bit of room this afternoon? Layth asked, hoping his father would leave him be for a short while so that he could gather his thoughts.

You can do so after dinner. We have work to do, quotas to meet.

Layth shook his head and resumed the work he had been doing. He noticed his mother had joined his father, and they embraced on the edge of the field. His mother giggled like a young girl, her long golden curls bouncing as she laughed. She pushed herself against Astlo as though she felt a need to be near him, as though she needed her husband to exist.

The love his parents had was one of a kind, one that he had never seen replicated. Sure, many of the couples in the village or the neighboring areas displayed their affections for one another, but none had the fire for each other, the fire that burned brightly in his parent’s eyes.

He took a moment to look at his parents, at his burly father touching his mother with the gentlest of touches, how she then in turn embraced him with firmness and vigor, and how their gazes never shifted from each other; their eyes drinking from the never ending well of passion they had for one another.

Thinking about love and affections only served to deepen his previously darkened mood. As his mother extricated herself from Astlo and meandered back into their log home, Layth could only think of how inept and clumsy he was when it came to the matters of the heart and his frustrations at dealing with them.

Anlia had been his best friend ever since his father had first taken Layth into Tleth one snowy morning. As they had arrived at the smithy his father operated, Anlia had run out of a group of playing children and had stepped right up to Layth. She had quickly stuck out her hand and introduced herself. She then had demanded to know who he was since she had not met him yet. Layth had been a shy child, and still was mostly as a man, but had been smitten with Anlia’s bold actions.

Ever since that moment, the two had been the best of friends. They could be seen everywhere together as youngsters; running through the streets playing games or exploring imaginary lost ruins as they explored the dark areas under some elevated homes.

As they got older, the games were replaced by afternoon excursions into the forests, diners at the Inn, fireside story telling, even joining Layth’s family by their outdoor fireside as they drank Shania’s special brew.

Anlia and Layth were indeed close, and could read each other very well, but Layth was unable to broach the subject that both desired: advancing their relationship into the domain of love. Anlia certainly displayed her love for Layth and made it quite evident, but she would remain a lady, and wait until Layth found the confidence to make his advance, although her father was getting inpatient with her stubbornness; many of the young men in the village and of those surrounding Tleth had expressed desires for her. She had politely refused all romantic advances.

Anlia’s father had more than once had a heated confrontation with his daughter about finding a proper man of education and higher station for her, but she was her father’s daughter, and defended her heart’s desires with the same pertinacious character that burned within him.

Layth knew all of that. He knew she loved him, or he thought he did. So many times, he clearly saw the signs as she displayed them for him, but the more he thought about it, the more reasons he could conjure to belittle what affections she showed for him. Self-confidence was a very big hurdle for him to jump, and so his soul was kept from soaring.

And on this day, Layth had decided to go to the village while they had stopped for the mid day meal, and tell Anlia how he felt about her. He had stayed up late all night thinking of what to tell her and had found the perfect way of doing so. But when he had arrived in the village, he had found her with other friends purchasing vegetables from one of the vendor stalls. Layth spent a moment observing her as he leaned against a post. She had been wearing a simple light brown gown that seemed to complement her long loose brown hair and her big brown eyes. The gown hugged every inch of her petite frame gracefully, displaying her perfect curves. Her red cheeks added to her beauty on this beautiful day, a day made even more beautiful by her wide smile and joyful candor as she discussed matters with her friends and the vendors. She seemed as though she had no care for the evils of the world, and Layth could had stared at her for an eternity. His heart swelled and he felt ready to confess his love to her.

But he had lost his courage when she had spotted him and pointed in his direction causing her friends to turn and wave; he feared she would have rejected him in front of all of her friends.

He had downplayed his reason for being in the village to an errand demanded from his father, and had left Tleth, greatly upset at his failure.

As he swung the scythe, he beat at the wheat with all of his might, taking out his anger upon the vegetation. His muscles tensed and burned, yet he continued, and it felt good. His mind cleared itself while he worked the fields, and soon his boiling anger died down to a simmer and quickly cooled to refreshed thoughts.

He loved Anlia, and she loved him. She had but eyes for him, and he would, in due time, profess his love for her. He would. He made up his mind that he would tell her . . . Maybe.

As the sun fell beneath the horizon, Layth and Astlo found themselves deep in conversation as they sat next to their fire pit behind their home. The subject of their evening conversation found itself to be Layth, or his thoughts about getting a home of his own and a method for making his own way in life.

Astlo was greatly pleased that his son had displayed great intelligence while conversing and knew exactly what it is he wanted: the same thing Astlo had at the moment. He couldn’t help but smile as Layth had professed his admiration for him and desire to get the opportunity to be as good a man as his father was.

The conversation was interrupted as Shania came waltzing up to her husband and nestled herself in his arms. Astlo offered her a sip from his mug and Shania accepted it gladly.

I think I may miss these quiet evenings more so than ever, this year . . . Astlo stated in a soft, pensive voice.

Starting to feel your bones getting older, my love? She teased as she kissed his shoulder tenderly.

Astlo laughed. I am strong, but not invincible! He added.

Want to go get us a few more logs so we can make this fire last a bit longer tonight? Shania crooned into her husband’s ear.

Layth looked over to his parents. I’ll go! You two stay there!

Layth started to get up from where he had been sitting near the fire when his father lifted a hand.

No, no, son. You’ve done plenty enough for this day. You worked those fields as though you were possessed!

Astlo extricated himself from his wife’s embrace, even when she teased him by refusing to let him go and pouted her lips when she finally caved in.

You keep this up and I will have to teach you a lesson tonight, Astlo firmly stated, demonstrating a stern expression.

You promise? Was all the answer Shania gave him as she fluttered her eyes at him. Layth covered his face, feeling some embarrassment at his parents’ flirting.

With a big smile, Astlo headed for the woodpile on the eastern side of the house, well away from the sight of his family.

As he reached the pile of logs, something made him go for the knife he kept in his boot. He drew it out just in time to spy a youth walking out of the woods, following the path that had come from the village. Astlo shook his head at his own skittishness and sheathed his blade.

As the boy drew nearer, Astlo waved at him. Can I help you, Dillon? Astlo recognized him to be one of the younger son’s of Tleth’s innkeeper.

A message for you, Astlo. It’s from the baker. The youth replied, his voice crackling slightly, most likely because of how frightening the forest must have seemed to him at night.

Astlo took the sealed note and watched the young boy turn and run back towards the village.

He opened it and read. It indeed was from the baker. As he read, a small piece of paper fell from his hand. It had been concealed within the note. He bent over, picked it up off the ground, and noticed there was just a strange symbol affixed to the piece of paper with three words: You know where.

To anyone else, that symbol and message would have meant nothing at all, but to Astlo it meant something else: something was wrong. He would have to go and find out why he had been summoned. He turned and headed back to the fire.

Chapter 2

Everything was illuminated in a surreal brightness as the full moon hung low and shined brightly in the sky. A few whiffs of clouds tried to pass in front of the moon to obscure it, but they found themselves quite impotent to the task being attempted.

A lone figure slowly detached itself from the cabin it had stealthily exited. The person strode quickly and determinately towards the tree line closest to the building. Draped in a cloak that concealed his appearance, he reached the wood line hastily and disappeared within it. Nimbly and quietly, he made his way around the trees and shrubs as he strode through the woods. As he moved forward, his cloaked shape blended in with the natural shadows cast about by the bright moon and tall dark trees. Even for a trained eye, it would have been extremely difficult to discern his moving shape from the enshrouding darkness.

It did not take long for the hooded person to reach his destination. It was an open glade a short ways into the forest. Not many people knew it was there, as very few individuals ventured anywhere near the woods north of Tleth; they tended to keep to the roads. Only Layth navigated the woods on a daily basis, even though he had no inkling of knowledge that his father used to take very long walks to what he called his ‘meditation dale’. More than once, he had brought Shania along for a romantic escapade.

The cloaked figure stepped out of his shadowy concealment from within the forest and stepped onto the soft grass of the clearing. A casual observer would have thought he had materialized out of nowhere, entering the glade as an apparition would have done. He strode purposefully towards a lone figure standing in the middle of the clearing. It was a beast of a man, big, tall, muscled, wearing heavy leather armor; its metal studs caught and reflected the moonlight brightly, giving the person a brilliant radiance. The black haired head swiveled and spotted Astlo has he stepped into the glade, and his thick mustache moved as a wide smile split the man’s face.

Astlo, my dear friend, I am glad you came! He stated quietly as both men met and clasped hands.

Of course I would have come, Lucian. Your message made it quite clear that my family might be in danger. What is it you wished to convey?

Aye. I’ll get right down to it then. I am heading to the frontier on a quest that has been bestowed upon me by someone high within the order. I won’t bore you with the details, but I am to search out for a single individual also: I believe the individual being sought out might be your son.

Layth? What could anyone want with Layth? Astlo stammered, surprised and angered that someone would want to harm his son, or use him . . .

I do not know, but he is being searched out, Lucian said. He put his hand on Astlo’s shoulder and grasped him reassuringly. But given our history, I wanted to warn you. I will not be looking into your son while I am here, I have to press my troops forward towards the frontier, but it would behoove you to look into your son’s past, or see why he might be searched out.

Astlo shook his head. There is nothing. He’s a hard working, caring, attentive lad. Sure, he should have maybe left my house already to start a family of his own, but it’s not uncommon for one his age to still be at home. I can’t think of anything-

Lucian cut him off with a wave of his hand. Speak with your wife. You and I both know his birth was not natural. Your wife has never been with child, Astlo, so heed my warning and think. Think of why someone would want your son, and maybe we can protect him.

Astlo peered down at the ground. A saddened expression flowed over his face. Lucian squeezed his friend’s shoulder one last time, made to leave, when Astlo reached up, and held him fast.

Lucian, promise me one thing. If something were to happen, anything, promise me you will fight to protect my son, keep him safe.

Lucian flashed a big bright smile towards his friend.

Of course Astlo, I promise. Isn’t that what Protectors are for, after all?

Therefore, the sun rose the next morning. The bright warm rays had to fight through a heavy layer of dark clouds clinging to the hidden blue sky. The winds blew strong, carrying along a chill that negated the sun’s warming influence.

The father and son had decided to eat a quick breakfast before leaving as Shania busied herself with cleaning duties.

Donning their hooded robes over their usual brown trousers and white cloth shirts, Layth and his father headed off down the small path that led from their farm to Tleth. It wasn’t well travelled, but the ground was worn down sufficiently for Layth to be able to pull the cart full of wheat towards the small strand of forest that separated his farm from the outskirts of the village. Astlo asked if Layth needed a break, but Layth refused the offer; he knew his father was getting older with every year, even if Astlo would say otherwise, and he was a strong young man after all! He could manage very well on his own.

They traveled quietly during the sojourn. Following the simple path through the woods, they could hardly hear any of the usual animals that lived throughout the region. The creaking trees made plenty of noise though, their leaves were being rustled and the smaller trees swayed as the strong wind flung them to and fro. The dark skies hung low right above their heads, making the air feel heavy. There was a prevalent peaceful and quiet feel to it all, the oppressive calm before the storm.

Gonna be a storm soon, I can smell it. Astlo said, breaking the silence.

Layth could only agree. He had grown very accustomed to nature, and how it behaved. He loved being out of doors. This was one of his favorite moments, when all of nature spoke aloud against the violence that was about to be thrust against it.

As the woods thinned, they could spot the first of the village’s buildings. Tleth was a small village, nestled within the woods and farmlands of the western region. Most of the buildings were built of woods gathered from the forest, with the exception of a few shops and smithy that were built of stone.

A cacophony of unusual hurried activity could be heard from the village. The whinny of horses carried well through the air accompanied by shouts from men that could only be soldiers. Layth could see men clad in the uniform of the regional guard, hustling and bustling, grabbing their weapons, checking the straps on their armor, some of them mounting horses. A few men busied themselves trying to load the last of their provisions into a wagon train.

It’s kind of early for the guard to be rotating, isn’t it? Layth asked, pulling on his cart. His muscles burned and he strained to continue, but he only had a short distance to go until they reached the bakery. He was also sweating, but the cool air being blown about kept him quite comfortable.

Sure is . . . Astlo answered.

Plus there are so many more than usual . . . And look, Layth gasped! When was the last time you saw a Protector in these parts?

Layth had suddenly stopped his trek in the middle of the road. The reason for his slight stupor had just stepped out of the small inn that was the largest building in the Tleth. He was a bull of a man; tall, muscular, everything about him suggested strength.

Protectors; they were the mightiest defenders of the realm. All were highly skilled in warfare and its conduct, being trained extensively to fight with every weapon imaginable. They wielded powers beyond that of the average citizen: holy and magical, they used their powers to heal and help the wounded and their own brothers in arms, and to smite evil wherever it lay.

The Protector in question wore thick red leather armor, studded in places with strong iron metal plates. The plates shined brightly, despite the lack of sunlight because of the cloud cover, almost as if magically imbued. His head, covered in long flowing black hair, looked back and forth, speaking commands and praising the soldiers for their efficient hard work. A thick bushy black mustache occupied the space below his nose, almost obscuring his upper lip. As he scanned the area, he seemed to catch every single bit of activity down to the smallest of details. His eyes were of a light grey, tough, but a touch of wisdom could be seen within them. He moved about with confidence, a picture of heroism. One of his big gauntleted hands rested on the hilt of a massive war hammer that hung from his right hip.

The hammer was an attraction onto itself. The shaft was thick, made of straose, the strongest wood in the kingdom. Thick leather bands were wrapped tightly around the shaft, allowing a strong comfortable grip. The head of the hammer was the most special part; made from starrock, it sparkled and seemed to glow with a bluish light, and looked as if lightning coursed along its contour. Righteous weapons: only Protectors had the strength and power to wield those mighty weapons. To everyone else, their limbs would be shocked numb the moment they attempted to grasp even the smallest pieces of starrock.

Layth was shaken from his reverie as Astlo pulled on his arm, urging him forward. Layth followed his father, who quickly walked towards the center of the village. It took quite a bit to impress his father, but Layth would have thought the sight of one of the mightiest heroes in the Kingdom would have done it . . . He was apparently wrong. His father seemed very much at ease with the sight of a Protector.

Astlo and Layth had to navigate their cart through small pockets of concerned and interested villagers; Astlo moved in front and politely asked people to move out of the way. They noticed the baker standing outside of his small store, looking towards the soldiers.

What seems to be the occasion for such a visit to our village, Struggs? Astlo asked as he walked up to the baker.

Ah! Astlo, my good man, he said with a big smile that spread across his more than plump face when he noticed the pair approaching him. These troops have almost bought me out of bread!

His brow then furrowed and he ran a hand over his mostly bald head. It can’t be good when so many soldiers set out for the frontier. They told us it’s just a routine matter, but they are too early for the usual change over and there are so much more than needed to man the outposts! Plus, who has ever heard of anything routine when a protector is sent along? He whispered loudly in a conspiratorial manner.

The baker continued on, spinning quite the rumor, one that involved all sorts of nasty beasts and evil witchcraft. Astlo laughed out, slapping his friend on the shoulder and telling him that maybe he should think twice about his chosen vocation as a baker; being a tale-spewing bard was his true calling!

Layth gazed around the scene, he had quickly lost interest in the conversation between his father and the baker. He looked on as the foot soldiers drew up in ordered ranks, hefting long lances onto their shoulders or made final adjustments to their armor and short swords hanging from their hips, while others fought with the shields strapped to their backs. Mounted horsemen moved about, ensuring that the men were in proper formation, themselves heading to their assigned positions after a satisfactory inspection of their men.

Pretty interesting, is it not?

Layth jumped at the voice. He turned to find Anlia smiling at him. Her long black hair was now tied back in a long ponytail and her big bright brown eyes seemed to peer at everything with a deep curiosity, the perfect translation to her open personality and hungry appetite to learn. She was hugging herself within the robes she wore in an attempt to banish the chill in the air that was making her cold.

Layth felt his cheeks redden. You can always sneak up on me! I swear you could pass for one of those thieves from the cities! He stated with a big smile. He knew she didn’t care to be referred to as a thief, even though she was able to move about without being seen at will, it seemed.

You know better than that! I would not ever mingle with those types! She answered, slapping him on the chest.

Have you heard anything? He asked her, nodding towards the soldiers.

Nothing serious, she answered, except for all of the stories that everyone are making up . . . She shook her head. I do not like it.

I am sure everything’s okay. It has to be . . . especially with a Protector along to guarantee everything goes well, whatever it is they are off to do . . . Even he had a hard time believing his own reassurances. Most times, the sight of a Protector out here on the frontier meant serious business.

I hope you are right. She stated, as she stepped to Layth’s side, leaning against him as they both gazed at the soldiers.

They stood there, close together for a short time, observing the activity. Layth felt Anlia’s body pressing closer against him, feeling her warmth. He wanted so badly to wrap an arm around her, to pull her close against him; but he couldn’t muster the courage to do so. Having her so close made him feel as though butterflies fluttered in his stomach, made his whole body feel light, made him feel strong and weak at the same time. He didn’t think she would mind at all being closer to him, to feel his embrace. He couldn’t explain just what was holding him back from doing so, it was as though there was a force preventing him from lifting an arm and wrapping it around her, he wasn’t ready to smash through his insecurities . . . he did not want her to return his affections as unwanted; reject him.

She nudged him with her shoulder, leaning into him. "Well, this scene is not going to get much more