Birth of the Golden Orbs – Excerpt
In the heart of the capital, General Kaelen held fast to his bronze shield. The metal warmed, almost unbearable where it pressed against his palm and upper arm as the heat from the winds seeped into the alloy. His skin was protected only by the leather he wore and the wrapping around the handle of his weighty shield. He glanced down at the vertical lightning bolt—the symbol of Andraste, the Goddess of War. He has carried this shield through a dozen sieges, used it to crush the ribs of men who had begged for mercy. It was his weight, his truth, his very meaning in life.
“My Goddess, where are you?” Kaelen’s voice cracked, dried by the superheated air. “Why have you forsaken my men and me? Have we not bled for you? Have we not offered you the ash of a thousand fallen cities?”
The air shivered, not from the white fire of Pyreos and Ventus but as their sister Andraste manifested before her General. She was a vision of copper and steel. A vivid scar cut across the bridge of her nose as she looked at Kaelen intently. Her eyes were an unnerving iron colour that did not reflect the fire’s embers. As she spoke with him, time stood still. She didn’t look like a queen; she looked like a soldier who had seen her armies commit terrible crimes.
She stepped closer to the General, a whetstone at her hip that scraped against her belt with a sound like grinding teeth.
“You call for protection?” she spat, her voice cold rain hitting a red-hot blade. “You turned my banners into shrouds for the innocent on the Cinder Plains. You claimed my name to justify your evil. Your ego runs unchecked, Kaelen. You have proven my fool of a brother right, even as you attempt to do the opposite. He is right; you are a gangrenous limb that must be removed.”
“But we marched for Justice!” Kaelen shouted, his knuckles beginning to blister against the hot bronze. “We marched to prove our worth; we put the heretics to the sword so the Just One would see our devotion, and we prayed to you to guide our blades in the battle. Victory justifies the sacrifice, does it not? That is the law of the blade!”
“Victory?” Andraste leaned closer, her rage a heavy, crushing pressure. “There is no victory in slaughtering those who cannot strike back. You didn’t fight for me, General. You fought because you enjoy the feeling of a blade slicing through flesh. You used ‘Justice’ as a mask for your own cruelty. There is no honour in what you have done. I renounce you and your troops; my protection is withdrawn.”
She reached out, a finger of polished copper touching the lightning bolt on his shield. At her touch, the bronze groaned.
“You thought you were pleasing Pyreos,” she whispered, a dark pity in her iron eyes. “But all you did, ‘General,’ was confirm my brother’s darkest fears. You gave him the evidence he needed to tip the scales. You are the reason the world is screaming!”
“I followed the path!” Kaelen bellowed, his eyes stinging. “I was a soldier of Ascendia!”
“No,” Andraste replied, her form blurred, blending into the shimmering air. “You were a monster in a uniform. I will shield you no longer.”