The Generals

"The king has arrived!"

The horse neighed, stopping in his tracks. Caelum rubbed his sore neck, stepping out of the carriage. It was two stops. It took him three days to reach the training grounds.

The barracks were located just 100 kilometers from the shore. 

Anore forces had managed to push Sar forces away from the coast and reclaim the land. The number of refugees was high, though.

A crushing loss on the Anore end. 

But, it was a step to victory. They finally had the whole island to themselves. Sar initially attacked them, but it was a surprise attack that caught everyone off guard. This way, they could be more prepared, and even strike first.

As Caelum exited the carriage and walked into the front door of the barrack, a line of soldiers bowed 90 degrees. A nervous, awkward smile crept onto his face.

He pushed the door open, running upstairs.

After a few turns, he finally reached the room. Pushing the door open, he saw the generals.

"You guys..."

The room had more length than width. A presentation-type room. A long-oval-shaped table was centered in the middle of the room, while there were plenty of chairs around it.

Seven of those chairs were taken.

"Our lord!" they all yelled out, enthusiastically. They stood up and bowed their heads.

Peering through a window, soldiers could be seen, swinging their swords with vigor, in the chilling cold.

"The eighth general... will he even be good enough?"

"The new general is late? How impertinent."

"You guys dare to burst into chatter while the king is here?"

"I wanna go to the frontlines!"

"..."

"I wonder if he's cute."

"So pesky..."

"I apologize, everyone. I came a few days late. There were a few stops I had to take, and all that... but that's not important. What's important is that I'm here."

The yelling and roars of passionate soldiers subtly lingered in Caelum's ear. He moved pesky strays of hair out of his face, walking toward the back of the room.

He cleared his throat.

"I've gathered you, warriors, for many reasons. Through carefully analyzing data, you seven already high-ranking soldiers have shown the greatest ability to adapt and strategize. Along with your skill in the weapon that you utilize."

The seven generals sat quietly, waiting for Caelum to continue speaking.

"Lunan de Mumixir."

"My king."

The light-green haired elf that insulted the new general's timeliness stood up. Bright hazel eyes, with a nonchalant, unchanging expression on his face.

He wore the ceremonial military coat, with the kingdom's flag, a top-half white, bottom-half yellow flag with a light-orange star in the middle of it.

Held onto his back by a rope tied around his waist, a tall, wooden bo-staff clung.

"Pirvezon Felbinon."

"Sir!"

The one that spoke of peskiness stood up.

He towered over both the king and the elf, in both stature and physicality. A large individual.

His hairs were aged and grey, along with his face-fitting of a man around 60 or so. Piercing blue eyes filled his sockets.

"Merlyn Detsk."

"Here, my lord!" the battle-hungry one said. She spoke with the most enthusiasm out of all the generals. An overzealous smile plastered across her face.

She stood up, walking toward the front of the room with all the generals. She was just a bit taller than the moody elven general.

The woman was a demi-human. She wore the ceremonial military cloak like the two other generals. Her hair was a soft amber color, along her white-tipped tail. Her light-orange eyes were fox-like and sharp. When she smiled, she bared her pointy canines.

"Ireciez van Vavuhul."

"..."

The silent one stood up, slowly pacing toward the front of the room, to stand beside Merlyn.

While everyone wore the ceremonial dress uniform, he wore a clean black robe, with a white undershirt. His hair was cyan and tied down. His eyes were black. A dull, unnoteworthy appearance.

To his waist, he rested his arm on the scabbard containing his sword.

"Nuvian."

"King."

The sharp-eared elf who complained about chatter stood up, walking toward the front.

His head was clean-shaven. Like Ireciez, Nuvian was not wearing the ceremonial dress outfit. Instead, he wore orange and red colored robes, with a heavy-looking string of prayer beads hanging from his neck, and around his wrists.

His eyebrows were thick and his long eyelashes complimented his black eyes.

Caelum's eyes slightly lit up as he read the name. "Nueleth van Mahaut."

"My liege."

The half-elf who questioned the eighth general's strength stood up, walking to the front. Her hair was short; just a centimeter below her chin. Her eyes were yellow, the signature color of a Mahaut.

Being a half-elf, she retained the beauty of one. Her ears weren't as sharp as a regular elf, though weren't as round as a regular human.

"And finally, Liluth Muradrus."

"King!"

The white-haired girl stumbled toward the front of the room, regaining her balance once reaching it. She stood tall, and firmly.

Her hair was tied into a bun, secured by a pin. White with brown highlights. Her eyes were a lighter brown.

"We do have one more person that we should be waiting for... but he's not here. Now that I'm thinking about it, I don't think I even gave him the directions."

Suddenly, a loud rumbling could be heard. The group of people looked out the window. 

"An attack?"

"Impossible... they have the nerve to attack us again?"

"No."

Caelum stood up.

"That's not... an attack."

The rumbling got louder and louder. As it got louder, what was causing that noise could be seen. A stampede of... ice rhinos.

On top of the rhinos, Oscar and Routhu held on tightly.

Caelum rubbed his eyes, irritated. There was a relieved smile on his face, though.

"Out the way!" Oscar yelled out, waving one hand.

The soldiers of the barracks scurried out of the way, yelling.

"Who in the world is that?" Nuvian scratched his head, staring at the spectacle along with his colleagues.

"That's your colleague."

"Ehhhh?!"

"The eighth general. Oscar Tolien. And... his lowerclassmen, I assume."