Follow: Book 1 The Rose Tree Chronicles

Chapter One: Fate's Chosen

It was now Miseria 5, 470 (October 23) and the Stone War was far from over. The Bonn and Noelle empires quickly learned that Emperor Mentir had prepared for this fight without their knowledge. For the entire fifteen years that the empires were united, he had been secretly expanding his territory and the numbers were in his favor. Fortunately, Mentir made numbers his top priority over training, which offered one advantage to his adversaries. Once Bonn and Noelle could find their way around People's ambush tactics as well as their thick and layered armor, their skillset should prove victorious.

A battle to the death between the Noelle Empire and the People's Empire had left the Valley of Hills covered with the lifeless bodies of warriors; among them, the strongest and most resilient. The vast majority of all plant life had been burnt to ash, leaving the Valley of Hills looking colorless and macabre. The hot suns had cooked all that remained of the soldiers, but now heavy rain clouds blanketed the sky so that the crisp and bloodied bodies finally began to cool.

One could easily tell the two empires apart by only looking at what they wore. The Noelle Empire donned black armor with bones engraved into the metal to emulate skeletons, accompanied by helmets formed into black skulls. In contrariety, the People's Empire was dressed in a heavy silver-colored armor, beneath which they wore thick leather, and their helmets bore the image of their emperor. The two starkly contrasting images were scattered across the battlefield as though they had fallen from the sky.

Among the millions of soldiers strewn along the ground, one stood out; and not just because he happened to be the only survivor. Gerardo of Liko was a boy about twenty-five years of age with the face of an eighteen-year-old. He laid on top of another body, his chest rising and falling as his lungs were the only part of him that strived to keep him alive. Gerardo was compassionate, tender, and very handsome. His shaggy, pitch-black hair complimented his pale skin and his sad, bright green eyes could be spotted from a mile away. Nobody loved this man, including his mother and the rest of his relatives for reasons unknown to him or anyone else. The members of his family were treated cruelly because they were related to him. In fact, it was a wonder that nobody had successfully killed Gerardo, for many had tried over the years.

                                                                 ~~

A tiny speck of light floated above the bodies and the skeletal remains of the trees; a little fairy. On the face of it, she seemed no older than sixteen-years-old, but their ages were often misconceived for fairies aged slower than any other living creature on this world of Xyntriav.

The pixie fixed her shining blue eyes on Gerardo. Her black, choppy hair lay unkempt over her face. She brushed it away and then dusted the dirt off of her black and white striped sleeves and black and red striped stockings. She fixed her bent and twisted squirrel-skin boots which almost passed her knees and took time to catch her breath while she waited for more to happen.

Not too long later, Gerardo stirred. His eyes opened and gazed at the cloudy sky. He turned his head to his left to where the stream from the Sirene River flowed at the bottom of a steep hill. A sharp pang shot through his left shoulder blade as he sat up. He reached his hand back and felt the slimy remains of an arrow protruding from his skin. He glanced at his hand and found the slime to be his own blood.

Gerardo could hear the stream babbling close by and although he was in desperate need of water, he was in no condition to be hiking. Gradually he forced himself onto his feet anyway. His throbbing head spun and made it difficult for him to keep his footing. He held his hand to his bleeding forehead in an attempt to make the spinning stop. Finally, Gerardo managed to place one foot in front of the other to make his way to the hill. He paid no attention to anything else around him. All he knew was that there was water at the bottom of that hill and somehow he had to get to it.

At the pace of a dying snail, Gerardo limped towards the edge of the hill and stopped. Peering past trees and brush, he spotted the stream below. The longer he listened to the rushing water, the more intense his thirst became, but he doubted he would make it to the bottom alive. He had to try nonetheless. He took one step and immediately discovered that he was indeed too weak to handle such a journey. He tumbled the rest of the way down, crashing into tree roots and bushes and plants. His cuts and bruises expanded and the arrow dug deeper into his flesh. Though he reached the stream in one piece, Gerardo landed hard on his back, which only forced the arrow through to the bone. He wailed at the sudden increase in pain, but then strived to steady his breath. All he could do now was wait for the agony to subside. Still panting, he dragged himself closer to the stream and brought his entire body face-down into it. At long last, he was able to drink the water, which had never tasted so delightful to him before this moment.

The pixie flew down to the soldier, where she watched him flip onto his back and return to unconsciousness. She landed on the closest dry rock to Gerardo and leaned forward to verify that he was still alive. When she confirmed he was breathing, she wiped down her clothes again and waited for him to reawaken.

Suddenly an odd movement in the Sirene water caught her attention. A young naiad arose from the stream. Her flowing gown and hair mocked the pattern of the waves in the water and her dress reflected the color. She observed the pixie through the green tips of her transparent blonde hair that hung in front of her diamond eyes.

"Rein," said the naiad. "What brings you here?"

"It must be curiosity," the pixie answered with a shrug. "What other reason could I have to hang around... him?"

The naiad raised an eyebrow at the pixie. "You're curious about a war?"

"Indeed," Rein answered. "You can't deny that it is an interesting war, and I'm restless at home."

"That is quite a long way to travel due to mere restlessness."

"Which only confirms to you how restless I really am. The days are long and repetitive in the Maja Forest."

"It also confirms how mischievous you are," added the naiad.

"Mischievous how?"

"I've been instructed to speak with Gerardo alone."

"I have no intention of being present during your conversation," said Rein. "I'm aware of what's to be said; I have no reason to listen in."

"Then it seems you've satisfied your curiosity," said the naiad. "So leave me alone with Gerardo and return to the Maja Forest."

"Why should I return to the Maja Forest?"

"Rein! Leave us!"

Rein glared at the naiad and took off like a bullet. When she was expectedly far away, Gerardo reawakened and the naiad patiently waited for the soldier to notice her presence.

The first things Gerardo became aware of were the agonizing pain remaining in his left shoulder and the headache he couldn't get to recede. He winced and barely managed to sit up. When he finally saw the naiad at his right, he had to look carefully to discover what the figure was. It startled him to find that this woman was a naiad.

"Why don't you try to stand?" The naiad offered her hand in aid. "It'll help you regain your strength."

Gerardo took her hand and rose sluggishly. It embarrassed him to be in such a condition in the presence of this elegant woman. He attempted to straighten out his ragged uniform and forced a soldier's stance.

"I'm the naiad of the Sirene River," she continued.

"Pl – pleasure to meet you, S-sirene," Gerardo stuttered.

"My name is Mira, in fact," she replied. "The naiad of the Sirene Lake is Sirene."

"My apologies. I am Gerardo of Liko."

"I am aware. I've been instructed to come speak with you."

"You have?" Gerardo asked.

"Do you remember Jorge of En Why?"

"I'm afraid not," Gerardo answered. Slowly his stance grew languid as he became weaker from standing.

Mira lifted her hand above the stream to create a wall of water in front of Gerardo. A small, misty scene of a soldier fighting in a battle appeared before him. The soldier in the scene looked to be about ten years older than Gerardo, with black hair that past his ears and thick facial hair.

"This is Jorge of En Why," Mira explained.

"I do remember him," Gerardo muttered. "If there is a heart which bears the greatest loathing for me on Xyntriav, it is his. Why do you remind me of him?"

"The Xers, or Executioners – whichever you wish to call them – have seized Jorge. He's been taken to Emperor Mentir's palace and is currently being held captive there. You have been called to retrieve him."

"Why me?"

"My apologies, did you have other plans?"

"Not necessarily, however –"

"You are the only survivor of the Valley of Hills; all other warriors are preoccupied with the war."

"In which case, I locate the nearest base and continue fighting until the war's ended."

"Not this time," Mira said, shaking her head. "There is a reason why you survived. It is God's will that you be the one to free Jorge. His bloodline is very important to the United Empires in the future. By saving him you save the empires. You leave tomorrow at first light."

Gerardo would have laughed, but he was in no mood to do so.

"Just one moment," he said before Mira could leave. His perfect stance had vanished at this point. "I mentioned this before, but to clarify, Jorge wishes for my death over eternal wealth. I assure you that he will refuse to come with me. Throughout this experience I have learned that my existence carries such a foul presence that it is a dishonor to be saved by my hand in battle. I'm afraid that your plan is flawed."

Gerardo had finally grown too weak to stand any longer. With Mira's help, he sat on the edge of the stream. Mira shook her head in response to his comment.

"This is not my plan, and the situation is different from what you've described. Perhaps it is seen as a dishonor to be saved by you from a quick death, but the Executioners are doing everything within their abilities to extract information from Jorge as we speak. He would have to live in that horror for the rest of his life if you didn't help him escape."

"I expect he still finds that preferable to my saving him."

"He'll learn otherwise soon enough."

"It will take more convincing to persuade me to cross onto enemy lines and rescue a personal adversary, Miss. Let alone break into the enemy palace."

"Saving the United Empires isn't enough?"

"Could you provide proof that I'd be saving the United Empires?"

Mira chuckled. "You may try to run, Gerry. Rescuing Jorge was written into your life before you were born. You will serve your purpose one way or another. I assure you, willingly is easiest."

Gerardo remained silent with his lips pursed and watched as Mira turned toward the stream. She reached into the water and brought up a silver tray of fresh fruit, hot meat, and a warm drink in a silver goblet. The drink was called, "lona," a smooth version of water that tasted similar to cherry cordials. Usually, only royalty and nobility had the privilege of enjoying such a novelty. Gerardo gaped at the food and then back at Mira.

"Have something to eat. It'll give you strength for tomorrow." Mira turned away from Gerardo and approached the center of the stream. Then she stopped and peered over her shoulder. "Oh and if it helps to persuade you, you will be compensated for your troubles at the end of all of this. Goodbye and good luck."

Mira melted back into the stream and Gerardo watched in amazement. Then he gazed at the food and drink on the silver tray. He didn't eat it or even touch it; he simply sat there and stared at it.

"Well eat," came a voice from behind him. "It's the first acceptable meal you've had for some time."

Gerardo glanced above him and saw a young pixie dressed in dark clothing sitting in the remains of a tree.

"And who might you be?" Gerardo asked.

"My name is Rein Bow," the pixie answered as she flew in front of Gerardo so that he could face forward.

"Are you here to see that I set off to rescue the prisoner tomorrow, Rainbow?" Gerardo asked mockingly.

Rein chuckled. "My name is Rein Bow. Two words. And I suppose you could say that."

"Well, I'm afraid I don't believe that any of what has happened is veritable, but I suppose I'll feign compliance until I awaken or regain my senses. Perhaps I've lost my faculties because of the war."

"Pinch yourself and see if you awaken," said Rein. "It won't work and sooner or later, you'll realize that your mind is sound. You'd be seeing much worse things otherwise." Gerardo's attention dropped to his food again. "Eat! Are you not hungry?"

"My appetite has left me," Gerardo answered.

"I don't understand," Rein said. "The food is delicious. Mira is an exceptional cook. Her talent has spoiled me many times, it's better than pixies' food."

"Well if the food is so wonderful, you have it." Gerardo set the tray on the ground so that he could lay down.

There was too much food for a tiny creature like Rein to finish it all. She hated to see it go to waste and wondered how she could convince Gerardo to eat. She focused on his left shoulder and watched him wince at the ache. Perhaps that's what was hindering his appetite.

"If I tend to your wound, will you eat?" she asked.

Gerardo considered her offer. "How do you plan to do that?"

"Same as your miracle workers," Rein answered. "Only with less pain involved on your end."

"With less pain?" Gerardo asked in disbelief.

"Absolutely! Your miracle workers fail to live up to their name, I've never understood it."

"What can you do?"

"What can I do? Eat and I shall demonstrate."

Gerardo sat up and started eating. Rein smiled victoriously and shot off to gather everything she needed to mend Gerardo's wound. Her wings flapped at the speed of hummingbird wings, enabling her to travel at almost one hundred miles per hour. She had to fly quite a long way until she eventually found some plant-life left untouched by the previous night's malice. She searched high and low for the right type of herbs. When she returned, Gerardo had finished eating and he held the empty goblet in his hands.

"Remove your shirt and armor," she demanded.

Gerardo obeyed and did so slowly as any movement of his shoulder was excruciating. Rein removed her gloves, rolled up her sleeves, spat into her hands and ran her saliva over the top of the goblet. Then she flew it to the stream to fill it with water. When she returned, she handed Gerardo a couple of strange leaves to eat as a form of pain relief. Then she poured the water over his wound, causing Gerardo to jolt and wince. After he composed himself, Rein applied some oil from another plant to numb the wound.

"I'm curious," Rein said while she worked. "What's the significance of the design on your armor?"

"The color helps us to not be seen at night," Gerardo answered between bites of leaf. "The purpose of the design is to frighten the enemy and display that we are not afraid of death."

"Much more honorable compared to the Xer army," Rein said.

"I agree; the design of Mentir's image on their helmets only reflects their ignorant loyalty to their emperor." There was a short moment's silence. "I couldn't help but notice how you spat on the goblet before you filled it up with water."

"You know how you're made from dirt, naiads from water, and dryads from trees?"

"Yes."

"Pixies are made from stardust, and most of it is found in our saliva. Stardust lightens the weight of objects, so we spit on heavy things when we need to carry them."

"Interesting." There was another short pause. "So what happens should I decide not to rescue Jorge and simply make my way to the nearest base?"

"Why would you want to do that?" Rein asked.

Gerardo found this an odd question, but he answered anyway. "Because attempting to sneak into the opposing emperor's palace is suicide."

"Well let's observe your options," Rein said. "You only have two of them, after all. You wish to report to another base and continue fighting; that's your first option. As you're already aware, people find you... displeasing? So what makes you believe they'll accept you onto their base? What's stopping them from rejecting you and leaving you to starve to death and rot right outside their gate? In the end you'll undoubtedly submit to the second option anyway, which is taking on a heroic mission and proving to the world what you're capable of. If you fail, you'll be dead and you'll no longer have to suffer through the hatred that this world has offered you thus far. At least this way you may die honorably rather than pathetically through starvation. Which sounds more agreeable to you?"

Gerardo gave a small snicker. "You have an unusual method of persuasion."

"I only present the facts while others seem to prefer to avoid them, which accomplishes nothing aside from making life more difficult to endure. I find that when I am able to accept the facts, I avoid despair, which in return makes life slightly less difficult to endure."

Gerardo could find no reply. The lack of consistent conversation following left him to reflect further on his options. It wouldn't be the first time a base would reject him. He had been transferred to a number of bases a number of times before one brigade finally found no other choice but to let him stay. This was only because they were leaving to battle at the Valley of Hills and hadn't the time to send him elsewhere. Rein was correct. Gerardo found no point in going through the trouble of searching for another base only to be repeatedly bounced back and forth. Though the idea of sneaking into the enemy's palace still sounded less comforting, he couldn't help but remember what Mira had said about him rescuing Jorge one way or another, and that "willingly is easiest." Additionally, her comment about being rewarded in the end served as encouragement for Gerardo to make his final choice in actually going through with this ridiculousness.

When Gerardo had finished eating the strange leaves he was instructed to, Rein had him eat some red leaves from another plant to help him heal. Once every splinter had been removed from Gerardo's back, Rein smashed up four more leaves with a rock, mixed the oils together and rubbed it over the wound.

"Observe," Rein said at last. "Do your miracle workers numb your wounds before they proceed with their procedures?"

"No," Gerardo answered as he slowly slipped his shirt back on. "I appreciate it."

Rein bowed and flew to the stream to wash Gerardo's blood off her hands before slipping her gloves back on. She glanced at all of the scorched trees and searched for the positions of the two suns in the sky. Xyntriav's suns rise in the north and set in the south and the Southern sun rises and sets first. Unfortunately, as the sky was dark and cloudy it was difficult to decipher the time. Rein had to estimate according to the brightness of the day.

"We should get some rest," Rein concluded to Gerardo when she returned. "We have a long way to travel tomorrow."

Gerardo was already lying down pretending to be asleep. Rein snatched a leftover leaf to use as a blanket and made herself as comfortable as possible in one of the blackened trees. The leaf did little to protect her from the chilly night, but as long as she remained still, she should fall asleep soon enough.