Shield of Fire
Tolm

The heels of black boots crash the wooden floor with each heavy step. A tall form - taller than any Ethnian and dark as the pits of the abyss - walks with confidence in the giant corridors. The massive stone walls are decorated with portraits of the same figure.

Below each portrait, a small metal sign indicated the year. The dates are too many and cover an extremely large span, yet the one depicted is the very same person. The same flesh and bones since millennia ago.

A pair of ebony eyes scan every fragment of the area where he passes. The uniform is clinging to his body like a second skin. Blood-red breeches and suit with a short collar, decorated with a thick golden line on his sides and a dark metal emblem pinned on his chest above his heart level, depicting a dragon with three heads.

A dark belt circles his waist with a sword on its sheath attached to it. Not that he needs it.

Blood magic is always more efficient and quicker, leaving no proof or stains behind. But it requires a lot more than the blood supplies of its user. It requires souls as well. Little animals were not enough, but thankfully he had much larger toys to play with.

The abominating creatures standing guard outside the throne room stepped aside, holding their spears to their sides while with their free hands pushing the doors open. The man strode without stopping for a second.

The analogy of stone to glass was turning towards the latter in this area of the fortress. Large arches were spread at the outer wall showing the snow-coated slopes of Gremos peak.

A view that only suits to gods. The tall figure thought as he ascended the two small steps leading to his throne. Sitting down, he absorbed the strength this seat was giving him, admiring once more the veil of mist covering everything outside.

“General Tolm!” a filthy-looking creature dressed in remnants, with short horns on its forehead and sharp claws covered in dirt, approached the room, with swift steps. It stopped before the throne, dropping to its knees. “Queen Tesfira has just arrived.”

A low growl of disgust rumbled in the general’s throat. “Queens and Kings. Lords, Counts, and Duchesses… These are fake titles, Gubar.” His low voice slithered like a snake in the empty space. “Pitiful creatures… they think they have control because I let them keep their title. How pathetic.”

The creature before him started to shake with fear. He could smell it. Fear of his wrath.

“Very well,” he sighs. “Cover her head and bring her here at once.”

The creepy creature answering to the name of Gubar gave a large bow - his face almost touching the floor - before he lifts up on his feet and runs away.

General Tolm remains seated, his posture straight to match the hardwood where he sits. Arms stretched, places on top of the arms of the throne. He had the posture of a true leader. Proud and intimidating, with a fearless look that could cut like the edge of his sword.

General Tolm was never afraid to show his power. To remind them why he is the ruler of Ethnos. He acted like nothing could affect him.

However, things had changed.

The visit to the illusionary realm had resulted in his return in agony. There was a threat on his doorstep - so small it was almost invincible to notice - but he should address it as soon as possible. His mind was whirling. Who would have thought that just a tiny creature could bring his doom? He had to act fast while he still had the advantage of prior knowledge.

“Get your filthy hands off me, you despicable creatures! I’ve visited this place plenty of times, there’s no need to drag me blindfolded!” Queen Tesfiras’ voice echo floats from afar. Her high-pitched voice pierces his eardrums, causing a headache to strike.

The two creatures which were dragging Queen Tesfira stopped at the door frame of the throne room and pushed her inside, removing the blindfold. The Queen opened her mouth - ready to unleash a chain or curses to the abominations that treated her so poorly - but she immediately shut it when her eyes widened at the sight of General Tolm.

The once strong and confident strides converted instantly to a hesitant and cautious tiptoe. When she reached the throne, she courts deeply letting her extravagant multi-layer dress mop the floor. “General Tolm” she announced with an impeccable tone in her voice, “I’m honoured by your summon.”

General Tolm stood up with a swift move, making Queen Tesfira step back. He came down the few steps on the base of the throne and stood with his hands behind his back. With the eyes of a raven, he studied every expression of her features. She was terrified. Good.

“I have summoned you here today for a special purpose, Tesfira.” the cold voice of general Tolm lowers the temperature by a dozen degrees, sending chills to the Queen. “If I recall correctly, about a decade ago, you had come here with the information about a new creature that was found wandering in the desert. What was it called…a human?”

Queen Tesfira quickly nodded, “Yes, general. You are correct.”

General Tolm starts walking around Queen Tesfira - deliberately hitting his heels in a slow and steady tempo that caused the hair at the back of the queen’s neck to stand on. “I have acquired information recently that this creature is a threat to the harmony in Ethnos and should be addressed accordingly. That is why I want you to deliver me that human at once. She will be brought to trial and executed in case she’s proven guilty.”

Queen Tesfira answered with silence. The general was sure that the answer would not like him.

“Is anything wrong with the human, Tesfira?” he asked in a threatening whisper. The shaking controlling her body was clearly evident now.

She parted her lips and then closed them again. How to gather the courage to say this to him?

“I… I’m afraid that will have to wait for a while, general.” Queen Tesfira’s voice cracked with an amount of dread.

A deep frown appeared on the general’s forehead. His nostrils dilated, taking in a long breath. The warmth spreading in his body was a sign of his blood boiling and his patience reaching its limits. “And why is that?”

Queen Tesfira’s quick breath could be heard in the empty throne room like a pleading whisper for help. Anger filling his senses, the general placed his hand at the handle of his sword, circling his pale fingers around it.

“The human is not in the capital. I send her to the tournament as my son’s guard.” Tesfira spat with tears rolling down her face.

“YOU DID WHAT?” furious, General Tolm screamed while the fingers around the handle tighten to a white-knuckle grip.