The Bedlam Realm, Kingdom of the Dragon circa 1.337.958 Unmei Period
The journey was long, hard, and cold. Master’s Left Hand, Sir Gonkuro, led the long march from the landing port deep and deeper into the thick forest set against the dark sky. Bālthazar stopped for but a moment to turn, stealing the last glimpse at the land port busy with star ships departing and arriving. It shined like a beacon in this bleak star-less night, and the boy almost found himself starting to return to its safety and high, dry walls. A sudden blow to his back convinced him otherwise, forcing him down to his hands and knees as he struggled to gasp his breath. The Knight barked for him to get back in line and keep moving, in fear of another reminder. The march continued as if Bālthazar was not there, the others stepped over or around him. He could feel their looks of disapproval. The Knight made to kick him but a strong hand yanked Bālthazar to his feet and practically shoved him forward. The stranger was a young man, probably an age older than himself, one with dark hair and hard features. Bālthazar tried to thank him but the stranger only urged him to walk on his own and not to fall behind again.
His home in Midgard was a desert with a scorching sun and red sand. This Realm was entirely alien to him, dark and cold, almost lifeless. The trees were out of place, their trunks were enormous, and the overgrowth blocked out the many moons of the night sky. The path Sir Gonkuro walked them on was tight and winding with uneven footing and prone to deep puddles. Others began to fall and slip and wander from the path, but Gonkuro’s company was swift to remind them. Their features were obscured by the darkness but Bālthazar knew all the Horn Knights had a decoration of twisting horns on their armor. They posed quite a menacing sight, standing on slopes and stalking to the sides of the paths, long capes casting imposing but distinctive silhouettes. He kept his head low and pulled the flimsy garb they provided closer over his person, gathering any warmth he could. It stayed this way for hours, no light, no talking, nothing but the sound of a depressing march through what was surely hell itself.
“How much further, you reckon?” a whispered voice croaked out, somewhere in front of Bālthazar. “Gods if I know,” another, this time female, “but I doubt half of us will be alive when we arrive.”
Their conversation faded from Bālthazar’s senses until it was just another sound of march. Until it wasn’t. The party was halted, and Knights came down the line barking for them to get low and stay quiet. What few of them had lights were ordered to put them out and soon true darkness fell over the march. Bālthazar stayed pressed against a cold rise, a large stick extruding uncomfortably into his lower back and two other Squires were pressed far too close to him for movement. The ground was wet and uneven, and insets began to nip at his face, but his aches were quickly forgotten when a blood-chilling roar cut through the night, one so loud that it seemed to rattle the very foundations of the great world tree. Bālthazar gripped his chest and suppressed a yell from escaping his mouth. More shouting near the front and others around him began to shuffle about. He flinched, hard, as the first blasters were fired somewhere not far from his location followed by more yelling. It was Gonkuro, commanding his company. Bālthazar thought the worst until another roar cut through the night, this one is more painful than the last. He exhaled heavily, not realizing he had been holding his breath, and struggled to regain himself. Whatever had attacked them was either dead or in retreat, and Gonkuro commanded the march forward again. The Knights roused the Squires from the ground and forward they went.
Hours more passed and soon the rains began, and by the gods did they begin. Bālthazar found himself quickly missing the ominous quiet of the night woods as the waters began to make their way up his legs and encroached on his torso. He misplaced his foot and let out a scream as the ground gave way to racing torrents. He, instinctively, reached out and caught hold of another’s arm, fearing he had condemned another to his death. However, quite the opposite, as the arm easily yanked his small frame up from the water. In between gasps for air and through his muddied sight, Bālthazar made out Sir Gonkuro, holding him fast. With a single motion, he threw the boy over his left side, landing in waist-high water, shoved forward by more Squires and Knights as the march crawled on. Bālthazar was moved forward by the mass of bodies as the storm waged forward, constantly forcing his hair back from his face so he could see, though still not much with a wall of rain in front of him.
By the time the dark night sky began to surrender itself to the orange hues of the breaking dawn, the march had finally broken out of the impossible forest and the storm was beginning to break. The Knights moved with rhythm and purpose, but the Squires were now reduced to a slow shuffle, one they were strongly encouraged to speed up from the company. Bālthazar and the others collectively gave a sigh of relief as the sight of what they assumed was their destination was within sight, just across a grassy and soggy field. It was an old temple of an old build; its arched ceiling was supported by pillars in the shape of polished historical figures. At the feet of such pillars was Master Ar’Rygin herself. She sat on the steps approaching the temple whisking a tea concoction together, patiently waiting for her Squires to arrive. She was an alien creature, unlike any Bālthazar, had ever seen, furred and tall, although hunched over, she shuffled about on a short wooden cane. Her long face ended in a twisted beard and great twisting horns sprouted from the side of her skull, spiraling out to dull nubs. A series of charms and keepsakes hung from their rungs and swayed ever so slightly with the turn of her head. Ar’Rygin was different from the others, she wore simple garbs and robes, concealing her hands in loose sleeves. She seemed utterly unconcerned with the rising temperatures or the mass of tired bodies making their way to her.
Gonkuro had the squires shed their garbs as the scorching heat of the suns began to set on the day. While most found the sudden temperature change unbearable, Bālthazar was most comfortable with unbearable heat. Compared to the dunes of Mars, this sudden change was most welcome. They were ordered to form themselves into rows and columns, feet together, and head forward. Not a sound was to be heard and not one was. In the daylight, Sir Gonkuro’s silver and white armor were plain to see, as was his company, although it made them no less intimidating. He approached Master Ar’Rygin and bent the knee, before rising to sit on the steps below her. Bālthazar struggled to keep them within his view through the gaps in bodies but eventually, Gonkuro’s voice came through.
“The March was long, but I won’t deceive you; it is not over. Not yet, that is.” He turned and gestured to the peak behind him, “On the other side of that mountain is a valley. That valley is where the Einw Stronghold rests, it will be your home for the next five cycles. Or more.” The Knight came to look up and down all the rows of shaking recruits, “Good food and warm quarters await any who survive the journey over it. But you will be responsible for making it over the mountain with your Fireteam. Look around yourselves, your Fireteam will be made from similar stock and will remain as such until you are relieved of this life. Failure to make it to Einw either means death or rejection. You signed up for this, no one forced your hand. If any of you have doubts, now is the time to turn back.”
Without hesitation, a young female stepped forward pulling two nearby Squires with her, proclaiming them a Fireteam and ready to go. “What are their names?”
“I-I don’t know. Who cares, we’re ready to go- “before she could finish her sentence Gonkuro kicked her, hard, laying her out on her back.
“Who do you think we are, girl?!” Gonkuro yelled, he moved forward and yanked the gasping female to her feet, struggling to steady herself, “We are the Order of the Archdragon Knights, our ilk waged war with the Second Name of God and we alone stood between the Great War and Midgard. Do not take this lightly as a chance of a random encounter. Only an animal is ruled by their base desires, Dragon Knights always move with purpose.” Bālthazar watched as the other two Squires helped the female gather herself, Sir Gonkuro had made them remain as a Fireteam after all. May the Gods smile at them, but Bālthazar had to worry about himself. A Fireteam seemed to be forever, not something to be taken lightly if the previous example was any indication. But he was starting out with a severe handicap.
With his garb removed, the true weight of his small body was laid bare for all to see. He was ten-and-seven of age, but his frame could convince you otherwise. The others didn’t want a runt on their Fireteam, and some urged him to quit now.
“Can you climb?”
Bālthazar turned to find the stranger from before. He could see his dark brown hair clearly now, but his hard features remained. He was tall and lean but had a sort of blank or dull look on his face, drained of any sort of emotion.
“I can.” He narrowed his eyes but Bālthazar reassured him, “I swear, I can. Not particularly fast, but I can get the job done.” He seemed convinced and extended his right arm.
“I’m Émeric.”
Bālthazar grabbed his upper arm, “Skyburner, Bālthazar.” Around the new pair, most Fireteams were already formed and began to move towards the mountain. There were not many options left to choose from, but in the dwindling crowd, Bālthazar spotted a tall male with copper skin and wavy black hair. He could have easily been mistaken for a Knight had he been wearing armor. Bālthazar caught his attention and waved him over quickly.
“Greetings my friends, mind if I join your Fireteam?” He leaned in and placed his hands on their shoulders. Émeric shrugged it off.
“We are not Friends. And you are probably the strongest male here, obviously. Why have you not been chosen yet?”
He smiled slyly and threw his hands up. “I ‘arrived’ here before most of you lot. I had some time and got myself into some trouble back at the spaceport. The others stayed away because they don’t want to make things harder on themselves going forward. You know, seeing as how these Fireteams are for life and all.”
“And what makes you think we want that kind of attention?” Bālthazar asked, realizing this might have been a mistake. Almost all the other stragglers have teamed up by now.
“Well seeing as we are about to climb a mountain where more of those things from last night could attack us, I doubt a cripple,” he motioned to Bālthazar’s weak body, “will be very useful. I would argue you need me more than I need you. Unless you think you can make it up with the handicap tagging along.”
Émeric looked at the male with the same blank look he had before, “I do not need you, nor do I care if you come. But if you do come, you need to understand that we are a team moving forward.”
He clapped his hands, “This is great! I am Yād of House Sarkari, and who are my brothers in arms?”
It looks like they were now bound together as a Fireteam, although if he was as strong as he claimed, it would be more than worth the trouble Bālthazar reasoned, “Skyburner, Bālthazar.”
“Émeric.”
“All Fireteams ready to head out, gather around me.” Sir Gonkuro stood near the base of the marble temple as groups made their way around him. Bālthazar followed Yād who pressed his way through the teams, with Émeric right behind them. “As I said before, the Einw Stronghold is just on the other side of the mountain. Before you leave, you will be provided with climbing gear and a survival kit. I am sure you all will recall the visitor from last night’s march, well get used to creatures such as that. All manner of especially hostile and dangerous fauna has been imported into this Realm. Not only that but Bedlam is a Realm that you will find to be most unfriendly to all people. Right now, we, fortunately, find ourselves in a calm belt, but it won’t last forever and very soon storms much worse than the light shower you have experienced will be upon us. As such, it is vital that you be aware of your surroundings, watch the skies, and most importantly, work together. You will be turned away from Einw if you arrive without your entire Fireteam in one piece.”
“And if we cannot make it to Einw?”, a female asked stepping forward, “Are we expected to just die in the storms?”
“Failure to make it to the stronghold is ill-advised. But if you cannot, you will be escorted by one of my Knights to complete your training at the Stidw Stronghold.” Gonkuro pointed to the east, “About a three-day march somewhere in that direction. My advice? Don’t fail.” The crowd began to disburse as the Fireteams made their way to the Knights to receive their equipment. Yād fell onto his toes in a low crouch and began to tap his fingers on his forehead.
“Still think this will be a breeze.” Émeric poked but Yād didn’t acknowledge it, “We shouldn’t climb today.”
“What?”, Bālthazar turned to face him, “Why not? The sooner we get there, the sooner we can miss the storm. He said one was coming.”
“It’s already here. Can’t you smell it?” Bālthazar didn’t, but he felt it, the temperature had begun to slowly die, and the wind was picking up. Another storm was coming, and he somehow felt this one was going to be worst than the last one. But if this was true, getting higher was the smart move to make, right? If they didn’t, the waters would flood them out.
“No, we do need to climb.” Émeric cut in, “But only high enough to find a cave. I doubt the entire valley will be flooded. But we should distance ourselves from the others here, it will be hard enough to climb together in this wind, let alone worrying about potential opposition.” Yād seemed to agree and turned to Bālthazar, seeming to finally take a good long look up and down the skinny boy, “Still not sure about the cripple. Might slow us down.”
It was far too late to have second thoughts about the Fireteam, and he was only here because Bālthazar called him over in the first place, “Don’t worry about me, I can pull my weight.”
“Good.”, Yād came to his full height, standing almost a full foot over Bālthazar, “Because technically, we only need your corpse to make it to Einw.”
