Rated Mature for mass amounts of violence, blood, and gore.
Chapter I - Shades of Gray
533 T.E - The Battle at the Gray Plains
Dark silhouettes seemed to dance on the surface of the bronze band that was firmly wrapped around Tristan's finger. If time was available to closely examine him, you would find that the gleam of that ring was easy to spot due to the mud and grime that coated his skin. In the midst of the fighting he had lost his helmet revealing his face which was covered in dirt and blood. Donning the imperial colors, black and gold, he waltzed through the chaos around him. He raised his shield to thwart off a colonial soldier. The knight waited until he heard the sound of his opponent's blade hitting against his shield to initiate a counter-attack. He held his richly decorated sword over his head and brought it down without mercy, consequently leaving a large bleeding gash over the man's face and torso.
This afternoon Prince Kastor lead the Imperial Army, and the battle had started off with great success. The tanks rolled over the hills, scattering the colonial's petty excuse for an infantry and all the while the famous colonial spell casters were no where to be found. Morale was high, and the battle seemed like it was coming to a close. The Prince himself decided to lead a charge straight towards the Witch's main camp and all was well....until nightfall. It turns out that this chain of "fortunate" events was part of a trick for in the midst of the darkness, the Witch managed to flank him and surround the Prince's plattoon from all sides. Guided only by moonlight, and the flickers of hundreds of torchfires that burned brightly like will-o-wisps throughout the battlefield, Tristan lead his own platoon to save Kastor.
Slow and steadily they marched through lines of colonials, killing off all that stood in thier path. Squiredom could have never fully prepared Tristan for war. He wasn't the fighting type, but here he was covered in the blood of those he had killed. He brought his sword up, just in time to parry an enemy soldier's sword quickly following it by bashing him in the face with his shield. The enemy soldier immediately fell to the ground with a bloody nose, subsquently being trampled to death by both Tristan's platoon and the rushing Colonial army.
I shouldn't even be here. I should be back home flirting with Rosy, the local merchant's daughter.
Trained to be organized and efficient Tristan's Imperial Platoon, cut through the ranks of colonial rabble until finally over the next hill the Prince's silver lined crimson cloak could be seen shimmering in the moonlight. The Prince had his men dig in and take defensive positions, but to no avail for the enemy spellcasters had finally shown themselves around the western flank. Many of Kastor's soldiers were being incinerated by the mages, and others were forced into intense panics due to mind-affecting charms.
I shouldn't even be here. I should be helping mother take care of my sisters.
Just as Tristan had gave the order to charge in and reinforce the Prince's position, a man with burn scars across the left side of his face managed to cut Tristan's right shoulder causing him to drop his shield. The scarred-man was dual-wielding a bastard sword and a spiked flail. He was a Champion, the colonies greatest warriors. The young knight held his sword with both hands in anticipation of his opponents attack, whom almost immediately began attacking again. The flurry of attacks were difficult to evade. The scarred man even barely caught Tristan on the chest with his flail, luckily it didn't do any real flesh damage but it did rip his black and gold tabard nearly half off.
I shouldn't even be here. I should be sleeping under the tree on Baevars's Hill as I skipped out on chores.
In the next flurry of attacks, Tristan parried the flail wrapping its chain around his sword successfully throwing both weapons aside. The scarred man rose his sword up with both hands to cleave but before he had the chance Tristan had quickly stabbed him through the throat using a dirk he had hidden in his sleave. The Champion dropped his sword, and fell backwards to the ground choking on his own blood. Tristan recovered his tossed aside sword and moved on.
I shouldn't even be here, but where would Kastor be with out me.
Kastor was right in his view, so Tristan made his way holding his sword in his right hand and his wounded shoulder with his left, fortunately he met little opposition. The young Prince was fighting as valiantly as any King could hope to. He defended his fatigued soldiers to the very last; shimmering as a shining beacon of hope to all who looked upon him. Tristan was prepared to make light of the situation, exchange laughs, and immediately get his friend out of that hell, but in a single moment Tristan's hopes were shattered.
An explosion. Suddenly Tristan was lying on his back, there was no way real way of telling how long he was lying unconscious. The sounds of the fighting seemed to have dimmed down to only a few scattered cries, so it must have been long although it was still night out. The cool breeze brushed against his sweat soaked skin which was a great feeling after all the fighting. He looked to the night sky and saw the stars glimmer in the darkness. The knight realized this may be the most beautiful moment of his life.
It didn't take long however before he caught sight of the Prince beside him impaled by a long spear. The Prince lying on his back was left to die slowly. He was breathing irregularly and violently like a fish struggling on land. He moved his head to face Tristan revealing his glossy gray eyes. "Tr-tr-t-istan".
"Yes, my liege."
"Th-the Witch is dead", he had said before coughing up blood leaving a crimson trail running down his chin, "but at the same time she's very much a-alive."
"What does that mean? How can she be dead, but at the same time be alive."
"You will soon learn in time, my cousin. I have much to say, but so little time. You think she is your enemy now, b-but she will be a friend in time."
Tristan tried to put together the cryptic message, but to no avail, "Your confusing me, Kastor. None of this makes any sense!"
"You will learn in time. Just know that this battle was a victory, and tell that to all who should speak of this day.", the Prince looked away and began to stare up at the stars, "Tris-Tristan, you've been a good friend to me, and I thank you for that but you must follow your destiny, just as the Witch has foretold. Follow your destiny and all will once again be well. Goodbye, my friend."
The Prince than closed his eyes and never opened them again. Tristan weeped for awhile, thinking on his confusing words. What could he have possibly meant? After an hour of pondering, he eventually grew tired and attempted to rest. The last thing the knight had seen before he closed his eyes for sleep was a bronze band that was wrapped around the Prince's finger; one that matched his. They were given to the two as gifts to represent their close friendship.