Chapter 4

One of the Minister of Magic’s servants quietly walked into the closed off room with a tray of wine. Arsenio sat across a small table talking with the other Minister about the Kings orders for more Vivificus.

“Now, Minister Landon, we just need your signature before we can officially spread the order.” The magician nodded and reached for a long brown and white quill. He dipped it into a bottle of ink and scratched his name onto the paper. When he was finished, he handed it to Arsenio who folded it back up and placed it inside his pocket.

The Minister poured the dark purple liquid into small a glass cup and handed it to Arsenio.

“This business with the Pugnators is getting out of control,” said Landon, “Simply looking for more Vivificus will only delay the fact that they will grow scarce and our troops will go out unprotected.”

“The king understands that, we have also sent out new orders to our generals, telling them to up the punishments for those who squander their privilege.”

“Will that be enough? These new punishments might turn out to be little annoyances for them. Hardly anything that could really change their minds.”

“What do you suggest then?” asked Arsenio. Landon appeared to mull it over in his mind before answering.

“Well, I am unsure of how to say this but…they have lost fear.” Arsenio gave the magician a look of confusion. “They are immortal,” explained Landon, “and so forget the real fear of death, the vigor of cherishing every moment. I would hope perhaps to ignite that fear again.”

“That’s dangerous and given to the wrong people, inhumane. We shouldn’t be trying to harm them, they are after all our citizens. They are giving up their lives for us already.”

“That’s their duty, is it not? The Vivificus takes the wounds so the Pugnator can continue fighting. Edessa doesn’t agree and that is why they won’t win.”

“So you don’t think we can achieve peace through negotiations?” asked Arsenio.

“They attacked first, why would they agree to anything if they started this war?”

“People change. 18 years of death and slow economies can do a lot to anyone.”

“Arsenio, you were always the optimist. I would think this war would’ve changed that by now.” His smile was smooth and masked. Arsenio hated that about the magician, he flit like he was to a statue or a snake.

“You and I never could really agree on anything Minster, thank you for your cooperation in the matter. Let’s hope there is room in the Vivificus camps still.”

“Oh don’t worry, I make sure there is always room.”

Arsenio left the room and took a deep breath. He moved on to the city’s local printer and distributor. He handed the notice to the man and waited as copies were made and sent off towards the rest of Ascalon. The citizens would get the orders within the week and new Vivificus would begin their training the following weak. It would still be a while before they were field ready but there was nothing they could do.

To take off the edge of the meeting the minister, Arsenio sat in a local pub and drank cheap mead. Not many could afford the cheap alcohol but some were there anyway, dreaming of the end to war. A stranger sat next to Arsenio and stared blankly at the Minster.

“You’re out defense guy aren’t you?” said the stranger.

“Yes.” Arsenio said calmly, he was used to this upcoming conversation.

“A new order for your beloved citizen’s right? Do you still live in comfort up on high with our king? I bet you don’t even know of the atrocities on the fronts. Or the camps.”

Arsenio drank some more and offered no response. People were mad, who wouldn’t be? Their sons, daughters, father and mothers are out dying for pride. The stranger was silent for a while.

“All joking and hatred aside, when do you think this war will end?” Arsenio rolled his cup between his hands, “Don’t gussy it up either, I want your honest opinion.”

“Honesty, huh?” Arsenio said, “I couldn’t tell you. I dream and hope tonight. But I do know that it won’t be this month.” He dropped a few coins on the counter for both their drinks. He nodded in respect to the stranger and walked out solemnly, ready to home to his wife.

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Arsenio had ridden about 3 hours from the village. He would have to make camp before the sun set. He had two more days before getting home. He didn’t need to exhaust his horse, wouldn’t help nor was it necessary. The new orders would take their time; action wouldn’t happen for a while either. He could take the time to get himself rested before getting back to work at the king’s side.

He found a small nook in the woods, a stream close by and a good spot for his campsite. He tied his horse close to the stream so it could graze and drink. He gathered some wood and began a fire. He cooked some fish and laid himself down to rest. Arsenio’s mind wandered and raced. E thought about the war, the citizens, the Vivificus and everything else that was a problem in his life. He watched his fire dance and crack. Small wisps of flame drifted in the wind. It was quiet, peaceful.

Snap!

Arsenio jolted from his bed with his sword partially unsheathed. He looked about in the dark woods. Another stick cracked in a different direction. His senses now heightened from the adrenaline he heard the shuffling of feet. He doused out his camp fire and waited for the first strike. It came from all sides.

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Cullan slapped open the flap and kicked over his sword and shield. Liam watched as his Pugnator sat on the other cot and seethed in silence.

“So, how was our beloved General Kurt?” Liam jeered. Cullan glared angrily trying desperately to kill Liam with his mind. “That good, huh? Well, I imagine it could’ve been worse because you’re not packing and we’re both still alive.” Liam smiled and waited for Cullan to give him a short, indifferent answer.

“Because I am not a soft moron like the rest of you here, I have to start training with the first Lieutenant and be babysat for hours while fighting new recruits. Not to mention I have to play nice with you,”

“Really, and you made it seem so bad.” Liam continued to ignore Cullans fierce and obviously annoyed gaze. It was actually amusing to Liam to see someone so livid about good things. “So, when do you start?”

“It’s at eight in the morning. Since you’re one of the cuddly children here, why is it so important to be…cuddly?” Cullan really couldn’t wrap his mind around the concept of being kind to others. What is the point if they’ll just die tomorrow?

“Oh, nothing really…it’s just respectful, being human, and setting yourself apart from barbarians.” Liam replied. Cullan grumbled and really wanted to punch Liam and just about everything else. He leaned back against a pole and crossed his arms closely to his chest, pressing them hard together to restrain himself. The last thing he needed was to pummel Liam’s face in and get sent into prison or something.

“Well, since you have full day tomorrow then why don’t we rest. I can see you are about to kill me anyway so we can just continue this wonderful conversation tomorrow when you are done with Lieutenant Miller and those cute new recruits.” Liam stifled a laugh, kicked off his boots and blew out his candle. The tent became shrouded in darkness along with Liam. The candle near Cullan flickered light in a small space on his side. Cullan straightened and kicked his boots off roughly with a loud thump on the ground. He snuffed out the flame and lay stiffly on the cot. He felt his mind buzz with activity, predicting a long night ahead with little sleep. He hated life now more than ever, there was no way this could get any worse.