The man fell to the ground with a wince. He wore a dark green uniform with two bronze quavers 🎵 (eighth notes) on his right shoulder
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All around him was ash and the twisted remains of civilisation. Æther cars warped into unusual shapes by an intense heat littered the road he had fallen onto. Glass littered the streets from blown-out windows while partly collapsed buildings, blackened by soot, towered over everything else.
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This was Eyraelynine in 81 EH: the city of ashes.
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The man was in his early twenties, likely fresh out of some grandiose Narcissian military academy. He had bright blue eyes that seemed to radiate warmth and understanding: this was a kind, well-intentioned man at heart.
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And Anya Orlè was about to kill him. Her home was in ruins because of the Narcissians and she had just so happened to find a junior Northeastern officer lost and alone.
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The woman was in the right state...her long, beautiful dark hair was singed and greasy but that was the least of her problems considering the red, angry burns she was covered by. They were from when the firestorm had caught up with her.
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She did not want to think the worst of her lover, the endlessly charming and flamboyant Lieutenant General Reinhart Narravo, but she was aware that he was one of Grosso`s senior commanders. Could he have been behind this?
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"Give me one reason not to shoot you, Narcissian." She snapped at the cowering man, drawing out an Æther pistol that she had stolen from a deceased citizen solider of the 18th Army. An army that had failed to protect Eyraelynine from the Archregion.
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"I never hurt anyone, honest! I'm a pacifist, been one ever since me and the lads left the Diamond Mines in the subregion o' Xyrolith to enlist in the Band Corps. Name`s Dorrian, Dorian Gemworth - Ego Lieutenant o' the three thousandth, two hundredth and fifty-first Platoon - who are you?" He said in a strong Xyrolithian - one of the Narcissian subregions or Exarchates - accent. The tone was surprisingly friendly for someone being threatened.
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"Anya Orlè. I used to live here, then you lot bombed, shelled and burnt it to the ground." She replied warily.
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Gemworth got to his threat. Anya took a step back in fear: he was a gargantuan titan of a man, all muscle and sinew.
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"Woah there love, I said I wouldn't hurt you. I've been a miner all my life until it turned out I was talented at playing the lupophon o' all things."
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"You play the Wolf? That's...unexpected."
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The Lupophon or Wolf was a double reed instrument, often pitched in F. It was invented in Aquiloria and made for an uncommon sight in military bands but was widespread within woodwind sections of Empyrea Orchestras.
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"I get that a lot..."
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"Dorian, I need to know who did this." She asked suddenly
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"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He retorted.
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"Try me."
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The Ego Lieutenant thought for a moment. He must have decided he was far enough away from his unit because he responded with, "Lieutenant General Reinhart Narravo."
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The woman flushed a deep crimson, first in embarrassment, then in anger.
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"That bastard! I-I trusted him and he does....THIS!?" She screamed, pointing all around her at the ruins of Eyraelynine, scorched by the firestorm unleashed by the Grand Fleet.
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"Worcesterian, Luxequinoxi and Chalcrystian Narcissians are all liars, the honest folk come from the subregions of Valerium and Xyrolith." Answered Ego Lieutenant Dorian Gemworth of the 3,251st Platoon in a careful, neutral tone.
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Anya fought back a torrent of tears unsuccessfully.
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"If I get ahold of Narravo he's as good as dead!" She sobbed.
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"Anya, he wept for hours after it. Narravo is NOT a monster, he became the heart o' every force he commanded."
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"Your point being?"
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"Grand-General Grosso forced him to do it and Admiral Taker carried out the order. The Grand Military is honourable, the people using it as a tool are not. For example...who commands the army?" He asked gently.
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Anya Orlè dimly remembered an old man in a black uniform from a newspaper. "A Marshal...Butcher? Michel Butcher?"
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"Close, his name is Mikal van Blücher. Now, who tells him what to do?" He pressed her, trying to make her understand who the real monsters were.
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"Archcount-Khagan Urlic, who doesn't he order around?" She replied sarcastically.
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"Sure, but Urlic is a peaceful man. The real threats are the BCU, the Conclave, the Media and the Academies of the Adept."
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"Are you mocking me, Lieutenant Gemworth?"
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"Course not. Take me to Aurin Province and I'll help you."
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"Aurin and Zephyr are known UEGNA sympathisers!"
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"If we don't convince the Mayors, MRs and MUs of those places, they will defect to form the Exarchate of Gaurd. They have been threatening to do so for two decades."
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"Fine. But I don't trust you."
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"I'd rather be at home, not lost in the East." He shrugged.
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