Chandaea, Year of Severus, 15, I.R., the 69th day of Fall, Arenfall

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The late hour of Obscura was at hand. There were only a few hours left before dawn peeks at the horizon. As the rest of the camp slowly settled in for a night's rest, Lord Prestonheim's tent was still burning his midnight oil. From the outside, his silhouette could be seen moving on and about, pausing at his huge table pointing at it or throwing rolls of parchment to the ground. The old Commander had a lot on his plate and even in his silhouette, it was obvious how his shoulders slumped from the heavy burden he has and yet, he kept on going.

It has been more than three days since Lord Prestonheim went out from his tent. The recent letter they intercepted from 305-M caused him and his godson to go ballistic on the conniving bastard of a slave. A few days prior, they learned that the red-haired slave was currently reporting their goings on to the Senate. Now that their activities were expose, the governing body was planning to inspect the camp and judge the campaign whether it should still continue or not.

He stood up from his seat and massaged the bridge of his nose. The table was filled with red dots and formations as if they were going to war. Make no mistake, they weren't going to war, but with Senator Lucresia leading the senators, he might as well prepare for a skirmish.

Senator Lucresia had been the major detractor of Prince Arterius. If anything, he was surprised that he hadn't ordered some assassin to just kill the prince, since that has always been his method when dealing with people he doesn't like. Lord Prestonheim knew that the Imperatur wouldn't bat an eye if his least favorite son dies.

Lord Prestonheim stood up from his seat and stretched his back. It had been a tiring toil for him the past few days. As if the sleepless nights of careful planning weren't enough, he was also trying to communicate with the Crovars and the few allies Prince Arterius had to ask them to join the Senatorial entourage and keep the detractors at bay. Unfortunately, none of them had replied yet.

He went to his nightstand and took a swig of water from his jug. At times like this, a strong wine could've been better to help him calm his nerves, but that wouldn't help him in this scenario. He needed his mind sharp as he had to sort out the chaotic mess 305-M had brought them. Aside from that, he also needed to boost up the morale of his men.

He may not have told his godson about it, but his knights had been whispering about regretting being there. One time he heard a knight commenting on how the mission was a death sentence to all of them and that they had been led by nothing more than a crazed insignificant shameful son of a great Imperatur. The same weak-willed son that got 305-M in and ruined the entire campaign.

Lord Prestonheim could've chastised his men for how they spoke on the prince's back, but he preferred to remain silent. He knew that wasn't the best course of action at this point. If he had chastised the knight or punished him for speaking bad against the royal family in their current situation, it might lead to a revolt and that was one thing he never wanted to happen—not with Senator Lucresia and Lady Bieroff looming around.

The convoluted situation had made his head ache. Lord Prestonheim took out his coat and decided to take a walk outside. The cold breeze blew into his direction as he went out of his tent. There was not a single soul roaming around the camp aside for the guards who were occasionally manning the area.

He walked around the camp. The silence of the camp was something that he needed. There were no horses and carriages roaming around, no clanging of metal from the forge, nor any men shouting up and about. He walked into a tree near the edge of the camp and sat by its shade. The moon peek shyly behind the thick cloudy sky giving the land a dim, gentle light that matches his somber mood.

He tried to close his eyes and get some well-needed sleep, but his mind wouldn't let him take a nap. He sat there at the shade staring blankly at the moon drowning in thoughts about the campaign, his godson and the damned Senate.

His mind was filled with thoughts of the plan he had for his godson if the Senate wished Prince Arterius to end the campaign. He wrote to one of his closest allies in the far southern region of the Great Dune to house Prince Arterius there as he will try and plead with the Senate to not kill the prince but rather put him into exile at the Western Continent. Or if ever Senator Lucresia would command to kill Prince Arterius on the spot, he planned to get his knights ready to defend their prince.

He also thought in convincing the prince to just leave the campaign behind and ran away from Arteria. That way he could save the prince while avoiding a bloody struggle with the Senate and their knights. But this option was highly unlilkely, not with the Prince's pride. He knew Prince Arterius would simply dismiss that option. If he tried to muscle his way out of it, he knew it would dishonor his House and along side that, he will be trialed for treason for endangering the Senate, a most likely scenario.

Every plan he had in mind for his godson seemed to be too risky and dangerous for the both of them. They could end up dead or worse, his House might be dissolved in the process like what happened with 305-M's house.

Suddenly he felt angry. He felt angry and frustrated with how the red-haired troublemaker caused the entire campaign to go worse than what it already was. He cursed under his breath and spat at the ground just by sheer though of how his poor godson's fascination over the crazy slave got them to the mess they had now.

He never trusted 305-M since the very first time they've met. He hated his arrogance and brilliance to fabricate stories and manipulate people into doing his own bidding. What he did to the prince was no different.

305-M used his mentorship to Prince Arterius to get inside his head and got him to believe that most of the things he told his poor godson. He wanted to beat him senseless for what he did the moment they knew about his betrayal but his godson beat him to the punch.

Prince Arterius punched him in the face and threw a knife right in front of 305-M. The lucky bastard was able to dodge it at the last second and only suffered a bruise from that punch. But even then, Lord Prestonheim wasn't satisfied with that! He wanted to teach 305-M a lesson and maybe spill some of his conspiracies with the Lucresias.

Out of nowhere, he saw 305-M emerged from his tent. Lord Prestonheim could see him from the distance and decided to hide himself behind the tree. The red-haired slave was placed under arrest and was instructed to remain in the tent at all times as what Prince Arterius commanded, but it looked like his guards cared less for that command. They still let him out of the tent and do whatever he wanted in the dead of night.

Seeing this only angered him even more. 305-M was holding something in his hand. The red-haired slave raised his hand and released a raven out in the open. He was sending letters to the enemy once again. But before it could fly far away, Lord Prestonheim already shot it down with his elemental magic.

305-M noticed this and frantically went back to his tent while yanking the guards in front of his tent to protect him as he pointed at him.

Lord Prestonheim smiled and quickly rushed into his tent, even calling two of the roaming knights to follow him. When they curiously asked why he needed them he stared at them and said, "We will be disciplining some traitors. So, no more questions and unsheathe your swords!" He said.

The old Commander grinned as he approached 305-M's tent. He knew that 305-M will get his just desserts tonight.

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JULY PROMOTION!!!Please read AUX Chapter if you want to join!