Paragon of Destruction

Arran glanced at Muna. "You’ve been in the Desolation," he said. "What’s it like?"

"Worried about your captain?" she asked. She shook her head, and continued, "As I told you before, I can’t tell you about the Blight."

They were sitting atop one of the tall hills that overlooked the mining camp, eating a small meal of fresh bread and cold meat while watching the priest grant the mercenaries their citizenship.

Even from a distance, Arran could see that the white-haired man looked weary. And no wonder — already, the man had turned over a hundred mercenaries into proper Darians, and although he barely spent a minute on each of them, it still added up to hours of work.

"I know you can’t tell me about the Blight," Arran said. "But what about the Desolation itself?"

He’d asked Muna about the Blight many times, and each time, her answer was the same: that only those who traveled into the Desolation were allowed to learn of it.

Arran thought the law ridiculous, but he had some suspicions about its purpose.

While Muna claimed it was a matter of honor, he doubted that was the real reason. Rather, if the Imperium forbade talk of the Blight, then he figured the situation could only be dire — dire enough that Imperium’s leaders feared that the truth would cause a panic.

Still, he thought he could get her to reveal at least something.

Not because he was asking about the Desolation instead of the Blight — that was merely an excuse he offered, and a weak one at that. But rather, because he knew that she still hoped to convince him not to go.

And indeed, she gave him a hesitant look, appearing to be on the verge of breaking.

"I’m not asking to hear any secrets," he said. "I just want to know enough to make up my mind."

Finally, she sighed. "I suppose there are some things I can say. Not about the Blight, but about the other dangers the Desolation holds."

"Other dangers?" Arran asked, his curiosity instantly awakened.

Muna nodded. "The Desolation is the front line in our battle against the Blight, but it also serves as a proving grounds. Every year, many thousands travel to the Desolation — untrained youths to stand watch at its borders, and ambitious warriors to travel deeper into the ruined wastes."

Though her meaning was subtle, Arran understood it at once. "With so many people looking to prove themselves," he said, "I imagine that they fight among themselves, as well?"

"They do," she replied. "The Desolation is a place to prove one’s worth, but also a place where alliances are both forged and broken. And if one’s enemies happen to disappear... well, many who enter the Desolation never return."

Arran took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm and suppressing the urge to loudly curse the Imperium.

"And a group of outsiders would have no shortage of enemies," he finally said.

Muna gave him a small nod in response, and Arran could see there was a hint of shame in her eyes.

"Not all Darians hate outsiders," she said uneasily. "But there are many who do. And if a group of outsiders takes the glory they believe is rightfully theirs..."

There was no need for her to finish the sentence. Arran already understood the situation.

In the Desolation, he could expect to face not just the Blight, but Darian warriors as well. And between those two threats, the latter might well be every bit as dangerous as the former.

"That’s why you should wait," Muna continued, her tone growing firmer as she spoke. "Lord Rannoc is a generous ruler. A few years in his service, and you’ll travel into the Desolation with a Lord’s backing and his troops at your side." She gave him a sideways glance, then added, "Perhaps you’d even have a Knight by your side."

Had Arran been a Darian, the offer would have been a tempting one. But as it was, he did not have years to spare.

Not to mention that he had no wish to get too deeply involved with the Darians — not with war on the horizon.

For several moments they sat in silence, Arran trying to find the right words to tell Muna that he had no plans of remaining.

But as he glanced at the camp, he noticed that the priest had finished his work with the mercenaries. And now, the mercenaries were gathering around someone — the captain, most likely.

"It seems the priest completed his task," he said, glad for the distraction. "We should go take a look. I think the captain is about to make an announcement."

Though Muna looked disappointed, she followed Arran down the hill and back into the camp, where the mercenaries were still gathering around the captain.

From the look of it, nearly all the members of the Wolfsblood Company were present, and those few who hadn’t yet arrived were already hurrying over.

Several more minutes passed as the last of the mercenaries arrived. Then, when it appeared all were there, the captain called out, "Wolfsblood Company!"

The mercenaries responded with a roar of enthusiastic cheers, and when the noise finally died down, Kaleesh continued, "Today, you have become citizens of the Imperium, free to choose your own path."

Again, a round of cheers sounded, though less enthusiastic than before. Between the Imperium and the Wolfsblood Company, it seemed the mercenaries favored the latter.

"Lord Rannoc has asked me to relay you an offer," the captain went on. "Any among you who so wish can enter his service, to become soldiers under his command. Those who take the offer will be well-rewarded, both with training and with riches."

This time, jeers and laughter sounded among the mercenaries. Yet Kaleesh silenced them off with a sharp gesture, then said in a loud voice, "I encourage you to accept his offer."

The crowd went silent instantly, shocked looks on the mercenaries’ faces as they stared at the captain.

Just moments earlier, they had booed and jeered at the suggestion of joining Rannoc’s forces. Yet now, their leader was urging them to do just that.

Several seconds passed in silence, with the mercenaries dumbfounded at the unwelcome surprise. Then, a voice sounded, "You’re abandoning us?!"

"I am not," the captain replied. "Any of you who wish can accompany me. But the path I must take is a dangerous one. Even with luck, most of those who join me will not return."

"So you’re leaving us behind?" one of the mercenaries shouted, a shocked tremble in his voice. "Just like that?"

Kaleesh shook his head. "Those of you who enter Rannoc’s service will be joined by Gar and Lasha," he said. "And when I return — if I return — the Wolfsblood Company will be formed anew."

At this, Arran cast a curious glance at the captain. The only reason he could imagine for Gar and Lasha leaving was if Kaleesh had ordered them to do so. Otherwise, he was certain no amount of danger would scare them off.

More questions and objections came from the crowd, all of which the captain answered patiently. Yet although the mercenaries were clearly shocked by the announcement, eventually the truth sank in.

That wasn’t the end of it, however. When the mercenaries’ questions ran out, Kaleesh had them split into two groups — those who would join him and those who would take Rannoc’s offer.

Some small part of Arran had expected — or hoped — that the mercenaries would take the first choice, to join the captain and himself in traveling to the Desolation.

Yet Kaleesh had told them again and again how dangerous it would be, repeatedly stating that joining him meant near-certain death. And though the mercenaries might be brave, the captain’s dire warnings proved effective — all the more so because he’d made no mention of rewards.

In the end, barely fifty mercenaries chose to join the group that would travel to the Desolation. And even their eyes held some doubt.

The others looked no less doubtful, but they gathered around Gar and Lasha nonetheless. Arran could see shame in some of their faces, but shame and doubt notwithstanding, few of them hesitated in joining the larger group.

As Arran watched the mercenaries say their goodbyes, he suddenly realized that Muna was looking at him.

"You’re joining him, aren’t you?" she asked. "Traveling to the Desolation, despite the risk."

Arran nodded silently.

"No need to look so uncomfortable," she said, giving him a small smile. "In truth, I knew it from the start. I could see it in your eyes. You don’t have the look of a man who’s ready to give up his adventures."

Before he could respond, she suddenly stepped forward, then briefly kissed him before stepping back again.

"But maybe that will change after you’ve seen the Desolation," she continued, speaking as if nothing had happened. "If so, visit me when you return."

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