Chapter One - March to War:
50 Years Before Reawakening of Wings (50 YBP)
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On that beautiful day, I sat within the confines of my command tent, the cool pre-dawn air hangs heavy with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, its rich scent mingling with the earthy undertones of the flatlands of Worcestershire. With each sip, the bitter warmth of the black brew invigorated me and awakened my senses for the day ahead.
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Outside, the camp stirs to life with the piercing notes of bugles, their brazen, brassy call rousing the men from their slumber and setting in motion the intricate dance of military life. The rhythmic cadence of boots on packed earth reverberates through the morning mist, the sound of preparation that fills me with a sense of pride and purpose.
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At this time, I was War Brigadier of the 35th Rifle Brigade, a position of responsibility that I did not take lightly. My uniform, complete with the crossed sabres below a single star that denoted my rank a the 4,000 men under my command that came with it.
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They were more than soldiers; they were my comrades, my brothers-in-arms, and I was humbled by the trust and loyalty they have placed in me. They respected me for my competence, my humility, and the respect I showed them in return. A trait that was unfortunately not present in the majority of high command.
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My camp was one of five, War Brigadier Galius Starfall of the 36th Rifle Brigade was both a neighbour and dear friend and confidant of mine. The twenty thousand men of the 7th Infantry Division that my Brigade was under were only a mere third of Grand Warlord Egoni's sixty-thousand strong 3rd Corps. The well-oiled contraption that was the Grand Narcissian Army had around two million men in total, and I was proud to be a cog in it - albeit a tiny one.
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The sun had really begun casting its golden rays across the camp. The recent escalation of hostilities weighs heavily on my mind, casting a shadow of uncertainty over our preparations. Yet, even in the face of adversity, I remain steadfast in my resolve to lead if required.
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The delicious smells from cook pots began to waft across the encampment, I remember being calm despite the escalation of pan-regional tensions that even the most humble of privates could inform me of.
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There is a clatter of hooves, an officer in a uniform with a single brass bar on the arm dismounts in front of my tent. He saluted me respectfully.
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I recognised my aide, Ego Lieutenant Solaris of the 480th Platoon, immediately. I bid him good morning and asked him if he had brought orders from Warlord Egoni.
Brigadier Worce, Sir," he begins, his voice steady but tinged with urgency, "I do indeed bear orders from Grand Warlord Egoni. All units of the 3rd Corps and the Divisions under its command art to gather around their radios tuned to 500kHz promptly at noon. This is not a drill, sir. Whatever it is,it'ss important."
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I nod solemnly, absorbing the gravity of his words as they hang heavy in the air. The directive is clear: every man under my command, from the lowliest private to my four Captain-Commander's must hear the broadcast.
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But there is more. Solaris pauses, his gaze meeting mine with a worried expression on his face. "In addition, sir, we art to prepare for immediate deployment. The destination is Nyctrae. Thy Brigade needs to be ready to march with the rest of Division." I take a moment to absorb the weight of his words, the enormity of the task ahead settling like a heavy mantle upon my shoulders. Nyctrae is a coastal settlement near the border with the Estrin Dominion. The order to march there was a worry to me, for it means that the Earldom is preparing to defend itself.
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With a firm nod, I acknowledge the orders, a silent vow passing between us as we steel ourselves for the trials that lie ahead. I sent Lt. Solaris to gather the men at the company level, there were four, with 1,000 men each.
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As noon approaches, I finish a second cup of coffee and leave my tent to where the Captain-Commander's will be gathering their men.
The sun reaches its zenith in the cloudless sky, casting a harsh glare upon the parched earth below, I stand at the head of my brigade, my heart heavy with the weight of impending destiny Around me, the men of the 35th Rifle Brigade stand in stoic silence, their faces etched with determination and resolve, their eyes fixed upon the large amplified radio.
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With a sharp intake of breath, I brace myself as the static gives way to the voice of the Earl of Narciss.
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"This morning, news was received that the diplomatic delegation sent to the Estrin Dominion in the East of Empyrea has been massacred!" His voice reverberates with righteous indignation, each word a condemnation of the barbaric violence that has shattered the fragile peace of our realm. "Amongst them was the heiress to Narciss, Lady Elera Narcisina, and the Grand Vizier, Lord Ulric Tarsus, as well as several prominent diplomats and ambassadors."
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A ripple of shock and disbelief courses through the ranks as the gravity of the Earl's words sinks in. The loss of such esteemed figures causes a yawning chasm of a pit to open up in my stomach: the Earldom must be declaring war.
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"Therefore," Earl Ignatius continues, his voice only slightly crackly on the radio, "I do solemnly declare, in the name of retribution and in the defence of our noble homeland, that a state of war exists between the Earldom of Narciss and the treacherous Coalition of the East, Southeast, South, and Southwest."
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The declaration was not a surprising on. Even the enlisted soldiers had been discussing the power keg that was the Empyrean political climate even since they had set up camp. I did not expect that power keg to be lit with a flamethrower, however.
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"For each precious drop of bloodspiltd in defiance," Earl Ignatius proclaimed, "a hundred shalt be exacted in vengeance, until our enemies' dry husks bear witness to our unwavering triumph! Let the resounding calls of our Grand Military's bugles echo through the ages, as we answer their brazen calls with the unyielding courage and unwavering pride of the Northeast."
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"Ad Astra Per Aspera!" he declares, his words a rallying cry to arms. "We shalt not bend, and our resolve shalt never be broken."
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As the broadcast comes to an end, the impact of the Earl's words hits them hard. With a silent nod of affirmation, I turn to face my men, all of them salute me, awaiting orders.
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With the echo of Earl Ignatius's declaration still reverberating in our ears, I raise my voice above the murmurs of my men, my words a clarion call to action. "We march for Nyctrae!"
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A ripple of anticipation courses through the ranks. Theinfantrymann quickly collect their tents. Everything is packed away with haste. We art joined by the 36-40th Rifle Brigades.
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I am mounted on a horse at this time.
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Bugles can be heard indicating that the march had begun. I can see and hear the band beginning to play.
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"Quick march!" I order to the nearby Ego Lieutenant Evenstar, my voice booming with authority as I set the pace for our journey ahead. With disciplined precision, the men fall into step behind me, their boots striking the hard-packed earth in perfect unison with the rest of Grand Warlord Egoni's 3rd Corps.
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I recognise the famous march: "Arise Narciss" so do the men, clearly, as the entire 3rd Corps belts out the lyrics.
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"Arise for war, o Narcissian land!
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We art all heirs of this noble domain,
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We cherish the wisdom of our ancestors:
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For the Earl, Honour, Glory,
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Show no mercy to foe nor to self."
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"Rise, Narciss, from thy bonds of restraint,
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The call of victory beckons: it's time for war!
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Lift high the banners of battle,
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For Glory, Greatness, and Good"
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"And once more, the bugle calls to us,
We stand united, ready for the fight,
Marching forth to the battle."
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"Arise for war, o Narcissian land!
Our people await the triumph of our Earldom.
Answer the call, o sons of greatness!
Where lies our courage, where lies our might?"
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"The realm summons her sons of war,
United under the banner's gaze,
We advance, war cries on our lips,
For the righteous cause of Narciss,
We shalt shed our blood with honour."
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"And once more, the bugle calls us,
We stand united, ready for the fight,
Marching forth to the battle."
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The Narcissian soldiers definitely did not want for enthusiasm, but I could not help but worry how they would faire against the brutal combatants of the Estrin Dominion.
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3 YAP
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As Worce finished recounting the events leading up to the declaration of war, the memories seemed to swim like fish in his tired blue eyes. He looked up at Lance Corporal Harvester, who had been writing and listening diligently.
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"That's how it all began, for me." Worce concluded.
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"What happened at Nyctrae?" The words tumbled out of the Lance Corporal's mouth before he could stop them.
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Worce looked deep in thought.
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"Dost thou have a fleet veteran? Azure is still alive, I believe."
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"Yes."
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"Good, I'll let thou know when we need his recount."
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"What happened at Nyctrae and beyond was an utter mess...Azure should be able to tell us what happened to him at Narca Gulf and Mara Sanguinis after I tell thou my part."
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