Children of Fire and Sun: The Rebellion (Updates Resume From July 2024)

Chapter Ten: Maysa (Æscford)

"Humour is the best shield against the hurdles of life."
— Lord Viktor V of House Ramone.
~•~

Maysa splashed cold water on her face from a leather pitcher, huddled under an ash within her and Remus's encampment.

Dusk tinged the skies in a mixture of orange and vermillion, giving the appearance that those were the cheeks of a maiden on her wedding night. The heavens were cloudless, and the moon had risen. It was a gibbous, a rounded halo of brilliance that captured the eyes at the first sight. However, no breeze blew to ease the oppressiveness in the air.

Maysa could still see the dead soldier’s eyes within the confines of her mind. As if the man begged her to do something about his unfortunate predicament. To reverse his fate, an impossible task. It was no wonder he did not want to die; there would not be one who desires so. Yet the way he was killed? That was what haunted Maysa. She could still feel the warmth of his blood upon her cheeks.

The princess of Domhnall was no stranger to violence, herself yielding it to her advantage whenever the situation called for it. Her hands were also stained with blood of many, too many that she had long lost count. Violence was their way of life. It was what had birthed their nation.

What else but violence did the first Desher kings used to subdue the regional powers? They had launched countless battles against each noble house, bringing them down to their knees with ruthless precision. Save for Domhnall, they all fell under the superior prowess of the Deshers. The Unification was no utopian dream, as the current descendants of those houses liked to believe. It was a massacre. Thus people of Namiona, no matter which region they belonged to, were born with some aggression in their veins.

But to butcher one's own men? What kind of insanity could it be? Edmund Eni was no less than King Ayan Desher with matters of mind. Both men knew not what they were doing. He was more Ayan’s son in spirit than Remus was.

"Or perhaps it was to showcase his power to us," Maysa said aloud with a grimace on her face.

That notorious prick seemed to always seek ways to establish his authority, even where it was not at all required. Even if it meant being downright cruel. A crude tactic to instil fear in his banner men. And to Maysa, a clear sign of his inadequacy. No true leader needed to use such methods to inspire loyalty from his followers.

Remus never used such questionable methods. Neither did he need to. His words were enough. It could rouse passion in the coldest hearts, cause men to lie down their lives and swords for him without a second thought. She, for once, would follow him to the afterlife itself, if the situation called for it. The thought brought a smile to her lips in an instant.

Maysa rose from the ground. Strands of damp hair clung to her skin, akin to seashells that sometimes washed into the shores after the tides. A simple emerald robe replaced the armour that she had donned earlier in the day. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Each aching joint in her body screamed for sleep.

"There you are, my sweet. I have been looking for you everywhere."

She tilted her head to find Remus, the object of her recent thoughts, standing in her presence. He was still donned in his armour, a foreign concept to him. Save for his rapid breaths, nothing else could give away that he had been on his feet for a while.

"Where were you?" Maysa asked with a grin. "Will you not change your attire?"

"Not until later," he replied. "Lord Trellis wants to hold a discussion with us."

Her face fell at the words. "What? We have to go to their camps now?"

"Yes. He wants us to talk about the attack that took place today."