After a while, an old man dressed in black entered the bathroom, carrying a neatly folded pile of clothes and a towel. The man looked at Balder with destain but tried to force himself to smile.

  Balder was still sitting in the bathtub, thinking about what his brother had said. He couldn’t just give up. His brother was right, humanity wasn’t going to live on for much longer, at least not in this part of the continent, but Balder wouldn’t just give up. If he managed to reach the north, Balder would rally what was left of his people and go for a final grand campaign, like their god would want them to.

  The old man cleared his throat, his forced smile flickering as he was clearly uncomfortable in Balder’s presence. He folded his hands neatly in front of him, waiting for some sign that he was acknowledged. When none came, he spoke: “Your clothes, my lord.”

  Balder finally glanced up at the man.

  “Thanks,” he said, smiling at the fact, that the man referred to him as lord.

  Balder left the bathtub and dried himself of with the towel. He then handed it back to the man and took the clothes.

  Balder sighed loudly after taking them: they were imperial, similar to the ones his brother was wearing.

  The old man now picked up his scattered old clothes including the chainmail. A glimpse of disgust was going over his face as their smell hit him. The man then bowed just enough for it to be considered respectful before retreating.

  Balder put his hand on the doorknob shortly after, but he hesitated. Just a moment ago he had been sure, that returning to the north was what he wanted, but now that his third confrontation with his brother was close, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

  “Would you tell me to stay, Father?” Balder murmured to the empty room, taking the hand of the doorknob again, to enjoy the warmth of the air for one more moment.

  The door opened with a loud creaking sound, startling Balder, who instinctively put his hand to where his weapon would usually be, but there was nothing.

  “What is it?”, Balder asked, his voice sharp.

  “Heard, that you’re finished here and I wanted to show you something”, Hrym answered.

  “What?”, Balder asked again.

  “It’s a surprise”, Hrym said with a smile on his face, “Come with me.”

  Balder followed Hrym along the corridor. Eventually they stopped before a door that was very familiar to Balder: his old room. He had lived here during their previous stay in the fortress.

  Hrym pushed the door open and gestured for Balder to step inside. The room was eerily unchanged. Though it had been abandoned for months, it was meticulously clean, and the belongings Balder had left behind were untouched, as though frozen in time.

  The many books Balder had taken from the fortress's library were still carefully stacked on top of one another. They told about the history of the empire and the Tarto family in detail. The books talked about tactics, diplomatic plays, intrigue and many more things that had been used historically in great detail.

  Balders father had always told him, that history was the best teacher and Balder had internalized that. He had always dreamed about one day being an adviser to Ivarr and help him with the running the empire their father would build for their people. These dreams almost seemed foolish nowadays.

  Balder noticed one big difference in the room. Usually there were many pages spread all over the desk, pages that Balder had written himself. They told about his father's campaign out of his few. He himself was aware, that he had glorified all of it, but he didn’t mind it, as the imperials did it too.

  There where Balder’s ink, feather and spread-out pages would usually be now lay a bound book, Balder didn’t recognize.

  “Open it”, Hrym said noticing his brother's gaze.

  Balder scanned through the pages: it were the ones he had written.

  Balder chuckled slightly: “Do you seriously think this stuff will keep me here?”

  Hrym offered a sad smile: “So, you’ve decided?”

  “Obviously”, Balder responded.

  Hrym nodded slowly, his expression hard to read: “When will you leave?”

  “I’m going to try and gather some more men to come with me first, so it’s probably going to be a bit longer... if you allow me to”, Balder answered.

  “Of course... I’m going to make sure you find some good men”, Hrym said.

  An awkward silence followed. The brothers exchanged glances, neither sure how to end the moment.

  “I should probably get some sleep,” Balder said eventually, breaking the tension.

  The last thing Hrym did before leaving the room was returning the sack with the ashes to Balder, who put them on the desk.

  The whole room was lit up by two lamps. One hang over the bed, the other one over the desk. Balder put the one over the desk out, he then walked over to the bed and laid down. The bed was very comfortable. Balder felt like he could just sleep right now, but then he thought of something.

  He put his hand under the bed and pulled forward a book. Balder was surprised, that no one had taken it from there. Judging from the layers of dust on the book, it hadn’t been found at all.

  Balder would usually read a bit before sleeping, often in this book, but as of now there was no need to do so. He already knew all its contents and had memorized them. Or at least the ones he deemed important.

  The book was the full history of the Tartos. Starting with the houses founder Lothar Tarto and ending with Adair’s predecessor, his older brother Cendric. The book talked about the reign of each of house Tartos Patriarchs over the last thousand years of its existance, no matter how insignificant.

  Emperor Rijard “the Great” had built the fortress Orcs End after destroying the last of the great orcish kingdoms, that had been built during what was today known as the Age of Blood.

  The Age of Blood had started around 1000 years before the empire's foundation, when the Orcs had started their invasion of the human realms.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  It is said that only few humans back then even knew of their existence, as they lived in the mountains surrounding the province Balder was currently in and consumed most who dared to enter them.

  The first culture to be destroyed were the Otthon, which had built many petty kingdoms in the province. The Otthon back then are said to have lived in peace and harmony for thousands of years. They were surprised by the Orcish invasion and most of the kingdoms were consumed within a decade.

  The Orcs then went on to attack the other human realms who were taken equally off-guard. Although the human realms did score some major victories, which ended up being the thing that kept them alive, it is said that a third of all humans alive were killed during the first century of the age of blood.

  The remnants of the Otthon had fled north. Where they build up for the eventual second Orc invasion. When it came the Otthon managed to repel them, but many of them now fought under the guide of a new deity, as they felt abandoned by the human goddess Emberi. Most of the Otthon would from now on pray to the war god Haburo, though to which their culture changed so much, that people stopped seeing them as remnants of the peaceful high culture the Otthon had built. They would eventually come to be referred to as northerners instead.

  Although the Northerners would be known for winning many victories against the Orcs, they wouldn’t play a major role in ending them. Instead, some of the southern human kingdoms formed the empire, centred around one of the oldest cities on the continent: Var.

  The empire would spend the next millennia slowly retaking the continent from the Orcs. Rijard “the Great” would be the one to destroy the kingdom of Tog, which had been founded in the ruins of the Otthon.

  The Orcs would be driven back to the mountains, which would prove to be unconquerable, so they would instead build Orcs End and task Lothar Tarto with guarding the newly formed province of Vrelin.

  Through founding the province, they would betray the northerners, with which they had previously made an alliance and promised the territory to. This would start the long rivalry between the northerners and the empire.

  Balder smiled, while remembering, how his father would tell them bedtime stories about the legendary northern heroes like Joakim “the Strong” who was said to have slain ten-thousand orcs by himself or Tobbe “the Despoiler” who is said to have slain three emperors in retaliation for the empire's betrayal.

  It was a time Balder often had to think about, when he was left alone with his thoughts. It was the same right now. He spent the next few minutes thinking about the many heroes that had existed within the northerner's history. But suddenly he was ripped out of his thoughts by someone nocking at the door.

  Balder hesitantly opened the door: before him stood Adair Tarto.

  “May I come in?”, Adair asked coldly.

  Balder waited for a moment, thinking about what to do.

  “You may”, he said eventually, trying to mimic the man's coldness.

  Balder stepped aside, allowing Adair to enter the dimly lit room. The older man moved slowly, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room. His every motion was calculated, the kind of presence that demanded attention without saying a word.

  “I hear you intend to go back north,” Adair said, his tone cutting.

  “Thats none of your concern”, Balder answered.

  Adair smiled faintly, though it held no warmth. “Everything within my territory is my concern.”

  “What do you want?”, Balder asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “You’re an interesting person Balder”, Adair answered.

  “How so?”, Balder asked.

  “Most people, your brother included would not leave these walls unless they had no other option, but yet you want to return, despite your brother promising you everything to stay here. Is your life truly so worthless to yourself?”, Adair asked.

  “Normally no, but I made a promise to my god and my father”, Balder answered.

  “You think you will be able to fulfil this......promise?”, Adair asked mischievously.

  “If not then I will die trying”, Balder said, “It's what my god would want.”

  “I understand. I really do, but wouldn’t your god appreciate it much more if you’d save his people altogether”, Adair asked bluntly.

  “If I’m successful with my task this will be the obvious next step”, Balder answered.

  “I could help you to do it”, Adair said, “If you help me with something.”

  “I’m not helping the empire”, Balder answered with an angry expression, “and if I would want the provinces help, then I could simply wait a bit longer or simple push you of a balcony, so that my brother would inherit the province.”

  “I don’t think your brother is exactly committed to your task. Sure, he’s going to help you, but he isn’t going to sacrifice everything for it, and everything is what you need to reach the north alive”, Adair answered emotionlessly, “And even if he was committed to it, you’d have to hurry up, both with killing me and with setting up the expedition.”

  “Why is that?”, Balder asked curiously.

  “The truth is, that we won't last that long. Our supplies will not last another year. The few magicians your father left us with are tasked with crowing crops, but at the current pace it’s far from enough”, Adair said, his words a bit more loaded with emotion this time.

  “My people are going to make it”, Balder said, “or at least last longer than yours. I couldn’t care less about imperials dying.”

  “Do you think I like this?”, Adair asked angrily, his composure breaking completely, “Your family took three sons from me and now I had to marry the last of my children off to one of you monsters. I gave the future of my dynasty to him. Everyone keeps telling me that a father should never have to bury his children. But you know what? I wish I could bury them. My two oldest sons were killed when the fortress fell, and their bodies were burned with the rest of my men. The only thing I can do is hope that they died quickly. My youngest on the other hand, he was barely 15 survived all this, but he wanted revenge for his brothers. Who could blame him? So, he went against my orders and went off with most of my cavalry to kill your brother Ivarr. The last time he was seen he had entered single combat with him. I never saw his body, but I know he died there and his body’s now rotting on the fields, where no one will ever find him. If I could choose, I’d kill you and your brother right here together with all your people, believe me there’s nothing I’d more like to do, but I need you to save what can be saved.”

  Balder remained silent for a moment, both to think and to let the man come down, as his head was red from anger. Then he spoke: “Very well, I may listen to your proposal.”

  “Before Orcs End fell, I had my last communication with the capital, requesting aid. The emperor granted my request for aid, but not only did the aid never arrive; despite being supposed to be here months ago, this was the last communication we had with the empire altogether”, Adair said.

  Balder wasn’t sure what Adair’s request would be, but he was interested what he had to say nevertheless: “How did you try to contact them?”

  “Pidgeon's, human messengers, even magic and none of it did work”, Adair replied bitterly, he didn’t seem angry anymore, instead he seemed desperate, “none of it did work. I sent a third of my remaining army south to check the situation. You know how many returned? One, and the guy was done for, talking to him was like talking to a toddler, all I could get out of him was, that something must have happened while they tried crossing the Varial river.”

  “And now you want me to try it?”, Balder guessed.

  “Yes, exactly but I have a different plan for you”, Adair said again, getting more and more desperate, by now he seemed almost like a madman, “I want you to go through the western mountain range of the province, thus avoiding the Varial river.”

  “You want me to pass straight through Orc territory?”, Balder asked annoyed.

  Adair leaned closer, his voice steady but pleading: “You are one of the few people brave or foolish enough to try amd I have no other options left.”

  “Why care about the emperor? There are others who are holding on well. Why don’t you try retreating to the northeast? It’s said that the magic academies still hold on quite well”, Balder said.

  Adair regained some of his composure, now he seemed angry again: “In eight hundred of the thousand years in which my family has existed the biggest threat to the empire was itself, with every house that deemed itself important trying to get the throne at some point. The only exception were we. Not one of the dozens if not hundreds of pretenders carried my family’s name. We always fought the empires true enemies: the outside threats, and we always remained loyal to the man sitting on the through no matter how bad he fit the position, and now in the last days of my family’s existence I’m not planning to change that.”

  Balder shook his head slowly, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

  “Think about it Balder, for the good of both our people”, Adair tried to appeal to him.

  And with that, he left, leaving Balder think about the weight of his words and the choices ahead.

  Balder became somewhat angry with Adair for dumping all of this on him now, as this was the first time in months that he had a truly comfortable place to sleep and he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to tonight. Despite this he still decided to try.