The Scholar

"You find this funny, Silver?" This was the first time that Lakas had directly addressed her in a conversation. She could not help but shudder at the slight amusement that colored his normally stern voice. "He could have killed you."

Her smile widened.

Lakas almost mirrored her expression, but then when he realized that he had spectators in the form of the other three girls inside her cage, he erased any trace of emotion from his face. "The four of you are currently part of the most prized collection of the emperor, but let me warn you. Not all warriors in this camp think the same as I do. You girls are precious, but you are replaceable. Think before you act."

As soon as he left, the oldest of the girls, a beauty with curly flaxen hair and foliage green eyes scooted close to her. It was the first time anyone attempted to communicate with her. Most of the time, she was simply left alone in her corner of the cage. "That man just protected you, Silver," Green Eyes laughed excitedly. "He might be the key to our escape."

A dirty blonde with hair sheared off just above the shoulders nodded vigorously. "Yes! Whatever you're doing, continue to do it! Get his attention! Make him very fond of you."

"Oh, I know! Why don't you seduce him?"

"Convince him to free us! Promise him favors!"

The third girl, a petite blonde with eyes the color of amethyst, did not share the first two's sentiments. "Margaruette, Loisa, stop with your daydreaming. We will not get out of here that easily."

Green Eyes frowned. "Stop being pessimistic, Vivienne. If you have a better plan, then let us hear it."

Vivienne did not back down. "We stay."

"I will not become a servant to those barbarians!" shouted the second girl, the dirty blonde. "This is not the life my father planned for me."

"Well, I bet none of our fathers planned for the South to invade either." Vivienne brushed an insect off her skirt. "Listen, as long as we are within their camp, as long as this campaign lasts, we cannot attempt any form of escape. We might get out of this iron cage, but we cannot leave this army fast enough. If you listened to the soldiers talking, you could have found out that there are ten thousand men under this fleet. Can you run fast enough without anyone spotting you? With our color, it is unlikely we can blend in. I assure you, they will immediately kill us once they recapture us."

"B-But we are the emperor's property!" the dirty blonde argued.

"Did you not listen to that heathen, Loisa? We are merchandise. Rare, but we are merely possessions that can be dispensed with if we prove to be too much trouble."

Loisa started crying. A flicker of recognition hit Enna. Loisa was the girl from that night. The girl who cried like an injured animal.

The memory made Enna smile. 

Vivienne simply shook her head. "You have a dangerous smile, our dearest Silver. Keep doing that and you might end up dead . . . or nevermind. Keep doing that. It is entertaining to watch, these heathens' reactions to you. Be warned though, there are more important things than life. Never forget."

Heavy silence burdened them. The green-eyed girl tried to lift up their spirits.

"Shall we do introductions?" She gestured to the other prisoners in question. Each of them offered sad smiles. "All right. I am Lady Margaruette vi Lavadia, second daughter to the Marquis of Pelton. My friend here is Miss Eloisa White, daughter of the merchant guild head of Cardia."

"Just call me Loisa," the dirty blonde sniffed. "Titles mean nothing now,"

The petite girl with amethyst eyes growled at her. "Nonsense! How can you think that way? These heathens can take away our liberty, but they cannot take away our pride and our identity! Our minds and hearts will forever be ours. Those, they cannot rob!"

The prisoners stared at each other in silence.

"I-I'm sorry, Vivienne. You are right." Loisa casted her eyes downward. 

Vivienne nodded and then turned to face Enna once again. "I am Vivienne of the House of Percival, sister to the wife of the Minister of East. I am the vice-captain of the White Knights stationed at Cardia." 

The blonde was in the military. That explained her attitude and strong personality. 

Vivienne's expression turned grimmer as she continued. "Unfortunately, I was in the healer's quarters when the attack occurred. I know this is no excuse but my left knee was injured in the first battle of Larchen. I was sent home by Captain Philip with strict orders of bed rest. If I were not heavily sedated, I . . . I could have done something to save the village."

There was heavy regret in her tone, but Enna knew that not one person could be blamed for the fall of Cardia. She understood. Offering a secretive smile of sharing, she reached out to touch Vivienne's calloused hand.

"Call me Enna," she whispered softly. The three women jumped in shock. It was the first time she spoke for weeks. 

"You are not mute!" Margaruette exclaimed.

"I am not."

Vivienne had an expression of incredulity, which she shared with their companions. "Enna? As in the battlefield of Enna? That Enna?"

She nodded. "I cannot remember my real name nor my position nor the reason why I passed out, but Enna is the place where I woke up." It was the only real clue she had of her past, and she longed to escape the confines of these prisons to continue her self-inflicted quest of finding her identity.

"Enna is where the Lord General was said to have perished," Vivienne mused. She suddenly perked up. "You must be a knight like me." 

Enna smiled, her silvery eyes held in a faraway gaze.

"Perhaps."

**

Scholar Rai held the ancient scroll between two calloused fingers, studying the faded ink with narrowed eyes. The papyrus was brown with age, the content written in a verbose and grand manner, as was usually the case with writings from hundreds of years ago. Its importance could not be translated into words. In fact, it surprised him that his lord father managed to keep these imperial treasures away from the capital.

It had taken him twice the usual time to understand the runes. He found himself impressively overwhelmed not only by the sheer historic importance of these documents, but also because the prophecies spoke of the expiration of the bloods of the Old.

He feared that the first of the visions written have come into passing.

The scrolls he found were written by the last of the true prophets, during a time of historic darkness, the Legaliath Cross, back when magic was free to be harnessed by every man and woman and child. The Legaliath Cross was a devastating war that decimated the bloods of the Old into nearly a hundredth; only a handful of clans remained able to use magic, and even among them, few survived the assassinations that ensued as they fight for the thrones of the newly-constructed kingdoms.

The last of the scrolls went back into the box. Rai tiredly closed his eyes, his fingers massaging his temples in order to ward off the impending headache. His back was stiff from sitting down for hours; the cushioned seat of his study offered no comfort at this point in time.

In front of him, the bronze sheets that covered one side of the wall reflected his image. Eyes shadowed with purplish bruises, longish hair carelessly tied at his nape, his aristocratic figure slouched with lack of sleep. He was an utter mess.

Despite this, he noted that he had a satisfied glum look that was more important to him than any of the superficial features he had.

This was more than what he had bargained for. He had initially left the capital of the empire, Sinag, in order to escape the exasperating atmosphere within the Castle of the Sun. He had no intention of visiting the substantial collection of scripts his lord father owned outside the capital, but he ended up doing exactly that in his search for his late father's journal that was missing from his study. His lord father owned thousands of records and stitched books in his annals; searching for the journal was a cringe-worthy thought. Rai knew though that it was imperative he find the missing journal. He had suspicions that his father's death was orchestrated by someone close to the clan.

Besides, spending time among the dusty scrolls was better than hearing the atrocities of the emperor's decision on a daily basis.

Rai was never a fan of warfare, and he was openly against it. For him, it was nothing but a waste of the people's gold. The budget could have been better used to the maintenance of the crops, or even the health of the subjects in the east, where he heard a plague was spreading.

This campaign against the North was a mystery that stupefies him.

For what? Madness?

Both kingdoms have sealed each other away after the Lost Wars, as both vied for peace after the mass murder that occurred, resulting to the loss on both royal families. It was in the annals of history, written and taught to every person in every village and city to serve as a reminder and a warning.

The balance was maintained for half a century. It had been peaceful for decades. Why was the emperor stirring the ire of the Northern kingdom now?

It was insanity.

Rai wanted little to do with the armies that the emperor led, and wanted none of the bloodshed and death they symbolized. Even though he was a young man in his prime, bloodshed and violence never had that much attraction to him.

A knock brought him back to reality.

"You may enter."

The door opened, and a boy brought in with him a huge sack of scrolls that he carried with both arms. He was lean and reed-like, more height than anything else.

Rai was instantly on his side. "Give me that, kah! Why did you not ask Uno to help you carry this? This weighs more than you!"

The newcomer gave a shy, roguish grin. "And what, let him make a mockery out of me? I will never hear the end of it, milord."

"True." Rai gazed at the dirty sack like it was a chest full of treasures, seeming to forget his page's existence in the room. "Where did you find this?"

"This is hidden in a closet inside one of the unused chambers. The room you said you used as a boy of six." His page, Hari, paused, and a frown replaced his easy smile. "Do you plan to spend the rest of your lifetime like this, milord?"

"Like this?"

"Reading. Studying," the young page supplied.

Rai blinked in consternation. "Why, yes, of course. This is what scholars do."

The boy mulled over this for a minute. "Are we not going to return to Sinag?"

Hari was a very inquisitive boy, much to the annoyance of his parents who were also loyal servants of Rai's household. Rai, however, liked that he had found someone who shares his love for questions. He treated his page like a younger brother, allowing Hari to address him without the stricter formalities allotted to those from the noble clans, sometimes even sharing his wealth and fineries with the boy, much to the annoyance of his distant relatives. Rai could not care less.

Plus, the boy also shared his dislike of the war. Another point that costed him his already feeble relationship with his relatives.

"I'm afraid we have to, from time to time," he answered distractedly.

"When ordered by the emperor?"

He smiled at that. Smart boy. "Only when ordered by the emperor."

Hari nodded. "Milord, a messenger came bearing news of the emperor's success in his latest campaign. Word is that the royal army is coming back here to the borders as they wait for the worst of the winter up North to pass."

"Is the city locked in?"

"I'm afraid so, milord."

When the emperor arrived, there would be no doubt a banquet for his honor, and every major clan would be required to go. Rai preferred to avoid mingling with the emperor's crowd if he could. As part of the minority that was against the war, he was not a popular figure among men. "Can you arrange it with Uno to find someone he can bribe among the gatekeepers? I need to leave before the emperor arrives. In fact, we go tonight."

"Not possible, milord." 

The door opened and the speaker entered. Uno Saveedgrin, a large man even by Arrao standards, bowed his shaved head and pulled an armored fist in front of him in salute before straightening up. He had the crest of the royal army and a mantle of white, showing his high position among the ranks.

He held out a folded parchment.

"The army is only half a day away. The invitation for the banquet already arrived."

Rai swore.