As gunfire rang, rank by rank, in the endless distance, the battle drew further away. The war had become an afterthought in the moment which concerned not the seven that their comrades continued to wage violence and suffer for it on the frontlines whilst they enjoyed an audience with a general, perhaps in no such manner they had initially thought. The sun soon emerged out of its cowardice, illuminating the golden armor of the colonel general with its flares. It nearly blinded all those who stared directly at their aurelian reflections. The battlefield’s winds had grown old and weak. It could not breeze away the rot of the bodies who had been felled by the squad alone. As the dead were hauled away, they were almost sure that his plan was as clearly laid as food on a table was. Vasilevsky sighed, placing his hands on his helmet. Removing it, he feared not of his enemies’ possible conspiracy, trusting the squad that they would not hound for his neck anymore and believing that the young were sensible enough to be spoken to on negotiable terms.282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcViJ1piGsE
At last, unneeding to be confined by the uncomfortability of his helm, he eased his tone, “But without the Aelon,” Vasilevsky gave his helmet for his third general to guard for the time being and told without a flaw in his cadence unlike a lie, “You could be generals before your coming of age.”282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ52UY3t7QKv
“Are you bribing us?” Lev inputted, hoping that the general would admit it straightforwardly.282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmZPjUABz2y
Shaking his head, Vasilevsky corrected them, yet to understand how the squad did not, “A choice is not an incentive nor an ask.” He placed his hand on his neck and warned, “Better than being beheaded the second you step foot on that hill again.”282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa34scjnAjH
A brute spat on the ground and stamped forward, drawing the general’s attention towards him. Marching ahead of his comrades who he pushed aside as they failed to calm and keep him steady, he had enough of talks and lacked the patience for someone needed to explain it to him afterwards. Moreover, he was faced with words that he could not comprehend. His brightlessness had always antagonized him.282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYDJ29OqYyw
“I’ve ‘eard ‘nough o’is shit.” Gin snarled, baring his canines, searching for a fight.282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKLjnb7hqDc
His blade was turned aside with its edge glaring and its steel ringing. Charging at Vasilevsky, he escaped the grasp of his comrade who had fatally forgotten to hold him back.282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8WGSWYdsQQ
Stumbling ahead at a loss of balance, Lev called out to his deafened ears, “Gin!”282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcCLpcuFEzT
Arminius turned around to a raging bull and dashed to one side, dodging a collision. Gin rushed by, releasing a cry as he lifted his saber and aimed its edge at the general’s head. Digging his feet into the dark earth, he leapt and shot at his mark, swinging his blade toward the neck that the general had exposed. The path of the blade curved and his arms extended. At no regular pace, the cut quickened, reaching for his trophy. But mid air, like anything without wings, he could not defend himself when suddenly, without ever seeing what had done so, a pain of a thousand blades impaling him thrusted into his abdomen. Like a punch, he felt it pierce him through his back and his assault had been halted within a second of his declaration of intention. The grip on his sword weakened and was loosened out of his fingers. Held by hooks, his body was trapped afloat with blood running out of his limbs and head, drained of vision before slumping over, gone of consciousness. The colonel general jolted his arm forward, launching Gin at his comrades. Ripped from a golden shield, the squad rushed to him tumbling, calling his name to keep him awake. As blood dripped from the metallic flares of a sun, thick with an amber hue lining the droplets, the colonel of the staff sighed with gladness. His shoulders slacked and his jaws unlocked when he was shaken by the feeling of an omnipotent aura.282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvxnZLv1wMG
Vasilevsky pointed at Gin with his shield and excluded him from his offer, “Except for him—”282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd7jtHbDX73
A shadow had come over his head, looming with bloodlust. Though it exhumed no fear from the general, the wrath of the power had stunned him awake. The lightning snapped down on Vasilevsky, who without a change in his expression, turned to face his new foe. Above, the clouds brightened, and the gongs of thunder bashed. A saber struck with an emission of eifer and met the shield that deflected it. There was a horrendous screech from the metals which scraped against one another, like a knife on a plate. Sparks and embers burned as the senses in the boy’s arms numbed. He held not enough strength to break through the lion’s claws and the lion, knowing that the lancer could not do much more, tightened his fists and prepared to deliver a blow. But when Vasilevsky pounced at his prey, his shield suddenly met nothing but air. The Aelon lancer had gone. Disappeared into the winds. The general searched his flanks, to the front, behind and above, but there was nothing. Not a hint nor a trail of the bloodlust that sought his head. He never turned his body entirely lest to give his opponent the element of surprise. The work of feeling where he might have been was left to his ears. But distractingly, his army would not stop shuffling and mumbling. The Summer Lion watched his flanks carefully when out of the dust emerged the shine of a blade. Extending at Vasilevsky’s neck whose shield was too far from his head to defend, a slash came. But within a second, a moment that called for his brilliance was emitted out of his warrior’s instinct. Arminius had become too taken by the battle that he had fatally ignored his error. Having the thought to fight costed him much when he realized too late. Vasilevsky turned himself just slightly and there his sword was being drawn out of its sheath. The curve of the scabbard was like a highway for the accelerating blade and before it could be exercised out of its slumber, the sword hacked into the boy’s body. His arms were too short despite his saber’s tip being laid just a nail’s width away from the general’s throat. As he was cut into his stomach, his fingers flinched and weakened, before he was flung across the field and crashed into his squad. Tumbling into the arms of his comrades who caught him, blood poured without a seal. The color of Arminius’s face slowly trickled away as he shuddered, as if his breath had been stolen out of him by a monster that not a demon could best. Paralyzed, the squad laid helplessly, watching two of their own wither beneath the shadow of Vasilevsky, towering over them. Dissatisfied by the conclusion that he hoped that could have been avoided, the general shook his head and lowered his sword and shield. He was not so devilish to deny them all of their chances, but the lion thought it may well have been impossible to convince them already as he retracted his bloodied claws.282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF3akkMDgr4
Vestige XI
Extract from The Summer Lion, Ch. I
A Sacrifice for Old Victory, Pt. II282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsrWL1z24kP
The Cossack House of Vasilevsky was a minor name, barely a footnote in history, unlike their distant Yolken relative who dominated large swathes of the Rus armed forces. Yet they were proud warriors. Always the first to send their own into the Tsar’s guard and into war and battle. As if every one of them held the divinity of immortality. To a certain extent, they did. Many Vasilys retired and died old, having worn their bodies enough to warrant them the statuses of small landlords. But that was all they earnt. Come the turn of the century, it was the year three hundred and ninety-nine, they were all offered a chance to change their fates.282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxlJNpU8kZl
This was no threat at the time. This chance was entirely voluntary. Even the Eos learned, eventually.282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtmvnxdEVTY
The twenty-seventh Tsar, Alexei II von Roman, was assassinated. The once stable empire that was the Rus crumbled under its own weight of vying nobles and treasonous conspirators. It was clear that those who did not defect and grovel at the feet of the new confederation would be skinned and made hides of. They were the first to be approached by the new regime and were the first to decline. Not the Kolchaks nor the Eos, but the Vasilys. Leonid Vasilevsky’s forefathers fought alongside the imperials but this honorable act only earned them a crest of defeat. After the collapse of the Triple Axis, they contemplated defecting to the Middle Kingdom, the last stronghold of the alliance. Half of which did, but those unfortunate enough stayed their ground and were reduced to the titles of commoners again. Centuries of trying for the nobility was wiped out by a single misjudgement.282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3SLWQTZ3zT
They learned and understood the costs of defection and loyalty. Sometimes the latter weighs greater than the former.
— Regulus von Eos
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