Ezmeralda gazed across the northern lands as she and her company of mages, engineers, and advisers headed towards the capital. They were accompanied by a small contingent of horsemen. These horsemen were lancers of Aruslan, men that were lightly armed and armored, carrying little more than a spear, shield, and short sword. Their armor was of chain mail and they wore a simple skull cap helm. They were fast and fine for scouting, but also lethal in a charge, as they trained since birth in the use of the lance.

Her thoughts wandered a little as she observed the landscape from atop her horse. This was the country she had been born in, many years ago, and even though she had taken a new land as her home, Ursulam still held a small place in her heart. At this point, they had already passed through any territory occupied by Veyorn, but the geography was still very similar to the place she had been born and raised. The slight chill in the breeze, despite it being near the end of spring, was nostalgic for her. It pierced even through her red mage robes and the undergarments beneath. The rugged mountains to the west and great flatlands and plains to the east caused a stark contrast that showed both Ursulam's harshness and its fertility. It was a duality that brought beauty as well as conflict. When the fields produced Ursulam was wonderful, and when famine came the nation descended into strife, as people fought for what remained.

To the north of their small column, along the road which they were traveling upon, was a small forest. It obscured their vision of the horizon, but Ezmeralda wondered that if it were not there, whether she would have been able to see a point where the mountains and hills faded into the horizon. What a wonderful picture it would make, to have that point directly in the middle. She imagined that it would look like the mountains falling to meet the earth.

Her thoughts strayed from art and the scenery as one of the company rode up beside her. The man had a thin face, dark skin, and wore a hood and cloak concealing much of his body. He threw his hood back to talk to Ezmeralda, and his hair was a dark black. His eyes were a deep brown, giving a dark and mysterious impression.

“Ezmeralda,” he spoke, neglecting any title. He had a thick accent to his Aerician, giving a bit of a slur to some of his words. He also spoke quietly, as if someone were to overhear that he did not want to. “, I meant to tell you this morning but did not catch you as we broke camp, that our progress may be slowed a bit. The new artillery is heavy, and it gets stuck in these muddy roads easily.”

She shrugged. “It is of no consequence. I am hardly in a hurry. This isn't our fight anyway, so whether we are actually there for it or not does not matter so much to me.”

He grunted in the affirmative. “Why then are we here? Was Azara's request so desperate?”

“No.” she replied, her tone a bit sing-song, as if she hardly cared that they were on the march to aid in a coup or civil war. “Azara, however, is our ambassador, and it helps to show Aruslan acting independently of the Aerician crown. It shows us as an independent state acting apart from the capital. You know, we're acting the part we've claimed to have."

“Yes, and that is why the king is already mustering his forces to make sure that is put to an end. If we had not had such peace for so long, and he was not so weak a leader, we would probably already have an army at our doorstep back home. You claim what Aruslan is doing is a form of secession, what it is, is rebellion.” Fawsu replied. “The Paladin would certainly not have entertained such.”

“And that is why he was put into an early grave by a crazy mage.” A pubescent voice said from behind Ezmeralda. It was defiant, a little angry sounding, and had the slightest crack to it.

Turning in her saddle Ezmeralda glared at the teenage boy on horseback behind her. His hair was as black as a raven's feathers, kept messy, and he had a somewhat sharply featured face. He glared back into Ezmeralda's emerald eyes, his own eyes were nearly the same color.

“Andreas that wasn't necessary.” she chided, though she said it as if he had simply spoken a mild curse rather than defiantly spoken out against her.

“Fine,” he replied, averting his gaze. “I still don't like it. he may have been a bastard, and stubborn like you say, but he didn't deserve to die.”

“Well I don't disagree with that,” she said, nodding. “I didn't enjoy that task either, but as you said, he was stubborn. Besides, I wasn't the one that killed him. I just set up the situation for him to die. Also, while I may not disagree with you, I'd not call him names. You should respect the dead."

He smirked, cocking one eyebrow. “Really? And I suppose you were doing that when you destroyed that ancient tomb in Sukarram or robbed the grave of that elf five years ago?”

She sighed with frustration. Why did he have to be so much like her as a teenager? Neither of her daughters had gone through a phase of such rebellious and argumentative behavior. It had started when he was about thirteen and just gotten worse since. Azara, it seemed, had always been sweet - well, except for a few times. Astra, even in her worst moments, was usually not very abrasive, she just kept to herself and pouted if she was mad.

“Don't make me get off this horse. When you are in a position to make decisions like those maybe then you'll understand, until then, simply do as I say,” she replied angrily, then turned away and looked back towards the road. She didn't like this unreasonable way of dealing with the situation, but he was still a child and needed to be reminded of it sometimes by not getting answers.

He huffed but didn't shut up. Instead, he raised a single extra defiant question. “I just still want to know why you didn't try anything else before you decided to off him.”

A female voice other than Ezmeralda's suddenly spoke up. "Are you just mad you can't study under Ignatius anymore, and can't see that Magi girl you had a crush on?"

The person who had suddenly appeared to speak the words was a young woman, perhaps in her late teens. She had a petite figure and a small nose, with brown hair. Her eyes were lilac, as were her mage robes. She did not ride upon a horse like the rest of them but walked along the road. Strangely, however, her steps did not align with the amount of movement she made, and she kept up with the horses while walking at a normal pace. Furthermore, she made no footprints. It was as if she were floating along the road, at an imperceptibly small height from the ground. It gave the impression that she was sliding and walking at the same time.

Andreas blushed when she said the words but looked more hurt and sad than angry or embarrassed. His head hung and he sighed.

“No, and you didn't you have to mention that. You know what happened.”

“See what I was saying,” Ezmeralda chimed in. “Sera, anything else to report?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing in particular. Elise is doing fine and the troops from Souster have almost arrived at the capital. I fear we will be late. That was two days ago.”

It was at least a week more of marching till they reached the capital. Late indeed.

“Thank you. Now go rest, reaching out that far and traveling so fast takes a lot of energy, and you'll need all you can get soon,” she replied. The young woman nodded and then vanished with the next breeze, whisked away by it.

Not a moment after the ghostly visage had disappeared, a group of several men on horseback came galloping out of the forest. The rider leading them was dressed slightly differently than the other riders. Upon his shield was a crest of some family's coat of arms, and he bore both a longsword at his side as a weapon.

“My Lady!” he said as he rode up, dismounting and bowing.

“Sir Addryn,” she responded, nodding her head to acknowledge him. “Is something wrong? Why have you ridden back here instead of attending to your duties of scouting? You are not to report until we make camp this evening.

“Indeed,” he replied, breathing deeply from riding hard. “There is a terrible emergency. It seems that our incursion upon Ursulan territory was not undiscovered. We may have been told that we would not be expected, but it appears we were lied to. An army approaches to meet us!”

This didn't make sense, Ezmeralda thought. Even if the news of their approach had spread, their force was hardly large enough to send an army after them. Was this a portion of the force from Souster that they had happened upon?

“How large Addryn? How many fighting men?” she asked.

For a moment he breathed deeply, before speaking in a quiet tone.

“Some eight thousand five hundred.”

“Eight-thousand? No, nearly nine thousand. That wouldn't even include their train and camp followers would it?” Worry spread across her face for a moment, before vanishing to be replaced with a stern expression.

“It would not. Their total force may be some ten thousand. They are close too within a day's march, and they have some cavalry as well.”

She turned around on her saddle again, but this time not to scold her son, and instead to look back over their column. Even if they ditched the siege equipment, they did not have enough horses for everyone. They would be overrun. Far behind them, the road went up a small rise in the ground. The crest there would make a fair defensive position. However, they had less than five hundred in their total force.

“Ezmeralda,” Fawsu began. “If we were to ride quickly some of us could escape to-”

“No,” she said, visibly a little annoyed with the suggestion.

“Understood,” he replied and fell silent. He watched as the politician and arch-mage he knew disappeared, and Andreas watched as the mother he knew also vanished, all to be replaced by a cold commander. She turned her horse around and signaled the column behind them to stop with a motion of her hand. Slowly, it did. She then turned back to look towards the forest, the direction of the enemy. Addryn spoke up, as several other commanders and mages approached on horseback - Astra among them. He informed everyone of the news, and then addressed Ezmeralda again.

“My Lady, I will follow you into battle, to the very end,” he said, his face truly showing no fear, and his dedication clear.

“Addryn, I know that you have a valorous heart, but you need not waste it here,” she said, giving him a slight smile. It did not last, however, and her face once more became cold. Her gaze, however, filled with fire, still looking towards the horizon. When she spoke again she spoke loudly, for all gathered around to hear. “Fawsu, set the artillery upon the ridge. Addryn, get your horsemen ready on the left flank - position yourselves out of sight behind that small hill over there. Andreas, you get back to the artillery and put your magic to use once they get out of the trees.”

Without quibbling upon the details they rode away to execute their commands. All except Andreas of course, who waited a moment and addressed his mother once more.

“Are you going to stay here mom?”

Ezmeralda dismounted from her horse, her gaze still toward the horizon, almost as if she were angry at it.

“Yes. If they are sending ten thousand men to meet a single mage and her tiny entourage, those men at least deserve to know why,” she replied. Then, her tone sinister, she continued. “As I said earlier, you have to respect the dead.”