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The sky wasn't blue;It was red. I remember that red, a dusty orange of a red, the sky was never blue in that hell hole.
The only blue in the desert was that of his eyes. Bushi was thrown off the ship, those blue eyes that reminded me of home
along with him. Blue was the color of Dyne, at least until Cardian's death, now it's almost always gray, not like the rainy
Macbettin skies though, it is one of an ominous sign. Watching those blue eyes fall into that yellow sand was like watching
the fall of all the beautiful blue in the Dyne kingdom. I stood back, doing nothing as that blue slipped out of my grasp.
At last those blue eyes closed, the rushing winds filled with sand would do it, collecting in that sunflower blond hair.
I could feel the heat of the wind from under my clothes, I would imagine it was already taking its toll on him, shirtless
and unprotected, yet he still looked strong, even at the face of death, Bushi showed no signs of fear or weakness, that's
what drove Ellious crazy, he hated Bushi and those blue eyes so.
Ellious was a short king, too young and inexperienced, but ambitious, sometimes maybe too ambitious for his own good.
Everyone thought Bushi was dead, word was he had fallen in a great battle; leave it to Ellious; keen and diabolical mind to
make the story believable. None the less, a great mourning fell over the city. I saw the collapse of the kingdom with Bushi's
absences. The rich got richer, and the poor got poorer, soon there was no middle class at all. Slums began to take over
a majority of the city, it came down to such a low that I would be heckled and have rocks thrown at me if I was to step foot
in the lower city.
Knowing the location of Bushi's abandonment, I quickly and secretively fetched a small search team and private nurse
to find and nurse Bushi back to health. Luckily I wasn't too late. Only a month later did I get a letter from the nurse
that I had dispatched, it was written in code and her name wasn't included, my own way of keeping confidentiality just in
case the letter was to fall in the wrong hands. I wouldn't want anyone knowing of Bushi's survival, he may become a target
of a bounty, and I don't even want to think about what may happen to the city if it got out. Everything went as planned,
he was back in health and living with an old blacksmith in Macbett as a mercenary, it's a good thing no one ever asks about
mercenaries, as long as they get the job done.
As I dawn my armor for another day of groveling and standing at his highness' side, I sigh to myself, seeing the letter
that I had written to Bushi still sitting on the table aside my bed. I shake my head and walk over to it, it was awfully
cold in the room and since there isn't any letters allowed outside the city, I wouldn't want my letters getting into the wrong
hands, I tossed the letter, envelope and all into the fire. As I watched the flames catch hold of the paper, I could almost
see those blue eyes staring back at Ellious with such fury; it would seem that that fire and fury alone burned the letter.
Fastening the last strap on my chest plate, I grabbed my helmet and walked out of my room, locking the door behind me.
I walked down the stone hallway, one would expect the over exaggerated echoes of my metal boots, but with the posh red carpeted
floors, there was little but a muffled footstep. I made my way down the highly decorated hall up to the thrown room and walked
through the guarded doors. It was all business as usual. There was King Ellious on his thrown, tossing his royal sword sheath
and having the dog fetch it over and over again, he didn't seem too amused, but the dog was quite happy with it. I frowned
and waited for him to give me the wave, in then I walked closer to him, catching the sheath in the air as he threw it. I
quickly wiped it off with my cape and retuned it to him.
"Please sir, do not disgrace your father like that." I said in a low voice so the guards would not hear and
hopefully not embarrass him. He snatched the sheath from me and stood, throwing it into the other room, the dog barking and
running after it. His eyes were red and puffy, it looked like he hadn't slept in some while, perhaps I was out of my place
in correcting him, I was about to apologies but I was too late. I felt the all too common hand come upon my face. It only
stung a little; I didn't even close my eyes, it would have hurt more if he was not wearing gloves.
"You do not tell me what or what not to do! If I wanted you to be my mother I would not have made you my advisor
of war!" He cried out, pulling his hand back from me and I nodded, bowing at his side as I saw the dog return with the
sheath from the corner of my eye. Clearing his throat, he sat back down on the soft cushion thrown and I stood up straight
behind him. He began, combing his short chestnut colored hair back out of his face. I took a moment to massage the cheek
he struck for a moment, making sure no one saw. "How is the western front? Is there any activity?" He asked,
his firm voice echoing throughout the thrown room, still showing signs of adolescences. He was only the age of eighteen,
hardly an adult and still he is so cocky.
"Its clear sir, but the southern isn't doing so good, there are signs of mobilizations in the Veradou providence.
I looked straight ahead in attention as I answered. "I feel it is cause for attention." I could feel him becoming
even more agitated as I spoke.
"Is that all?" He sighed and looked back up at me. "You never fail me Delius, you know that." I
could see that sparkle in his eyes, he had an idea.
"What is it you think we should do sir?" He smiled just a bit and nodded gently, pulling the sheath out of
the dog's mouth and resting it on the table next to the thrown.
"We can't afford to lose men, send the hired division; you know the one with the Dark Messenger." I was surprised
that he even knew what division had the half breed in, I nodded gently. "If anything goes wrong, we can always blame
it on the half-demon." He gave a small chuckle and scratched his chin, there were only three small blond hairs coming
up, still nothing like a man. I nodded, not too happy with the situation, it had to be done though and there was no getting
around it.
"For reconnaissance only, I'm sure." I was hoping to avoid unnecessary blood shed.
"Full on attack." He was quick to respond
"But we don't even know if they're ready..."
"This is why we don't normally appoint women for anything other than house work! If it wasn't for your victories
with my father, you would have been out on the streets! Just do it!" He wasn't so harsh all the time, but this time
he had gone too far.
I knew my place though, angry as I was, there was nothing I could do at the moment.
"DO IT NOW!" In my musings I had forgotten the furious king under me.
"Yes sir." I snapped at him a bit then quickly walked out, the guards opening the front doors out of the thrown
room for me. I gripped my helmet tightly and waited for the heavy wooden doors to close before I turned and kicked one of
the vases at my side. I was livid. That brat! I took a deep breath and looked down at the shattered ceramic at my feat.
Raising an eye brow, I looked up at the guards on the outside of the door to the thrown room. They seemed to understand
my frustration and gave a gently chuckle. I slipped on my helmet and whistled for one of the maids. They quickly came, broom
in one hand and dustpan in the other. Once I was sure that the mess would be taken care of, I made my way to the stables.
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