~Chronicles of Thrusious~

The hoofs thundered through the ground as the noble steed raced his companion to their destination. The rain poured down from the heavens above, the air was still, almost none existent. They continued to gallop into the horizon, avoiding the sunken dirt, now saturated in the waters that kept on coming. As they rode through the valley, the slopes either side echoed their progress. The streams of dull water swept down and began to suffocate the ground and illuminate it in the ever present moonlight. The ground began to loosen and Heratiie slipped and swayed as the ground beneath him gave way to the pressure. The stallion slid round the end corner and out of the valley but as he did, lost control and strafed too far to the outer edge, giving into the pressure the dirt parted and the steed began to fall, his rider thrown from his saddle and pulled down by gravity to the wet ground. He was too late to react to the last whines of his noble companion, as Heratiie skidded off the edge and down into the depths of the lower valley of Kesanstine. The rider managed to slither his way to the edge just in time to see the last shimmer of moonlight reflect from upon the broad, smooth chest as he disappeared in the darkness, where the moon was unable to reach. The man wept and mourned, he had lost a true friend, a faithful companion. 1

The heavens seemed to never stop pouring down; the earth began to swell as the ground could not soak up any more of the torrents of water that fell. He had walked for several days now; lack of nutrition began to set into his broken stature. His sword at his side, his armour now became loosened, his awareness dwelling and his health, heart and soul fading; his spirit began to die; his existence began to seep away into the night. Collapsing from exhaustion on the tenth day of his afoot travels; he was near death, but only for an instance, when a familiar voice was heard from nearby. “Thrusious, is that you?” the words echoed out, bouncing off every last drop of rain. The man looked up to see what he recognised as a past friend, now in front of him, arm stretching out to help elevate him back to standing. “It is you Thrusious!”2

“I must get to her...” Thrusious uttered, barely able to even breathe “…I must make sure she’s ok!” he continued to speak. “Please! Take me to her!” he pleaded with one last breath, and then collapsed to the ground once again.3

The roof fluttered in the desert winds. The rains had stopped and the suns had majestically risen to their highest spots in the Fartharious skyline. The Yorchest birds flew in their flocks, making their way north west for the spring; as they flew they made the bare, screeching mating cry. Thrusious awoke abruptly, humorously coming in contact with a tent pole upon his head but Thrusious was by far from a happy mood. Whipping back the sand grated veils on his tent he came to terms with his surroundings. His sword and armour were no longer on him and there were no belongings in the tent. However as Thrusious’s eyes came to focus under the ever beating down Suns and his ears adjusted to the right frequency; he was amazed to see the site that the desert held. Hundreds of rows and columns of tents and makeshift shelters made the empty, barren desert landscape into a bustling encampment. Solider after solider marched through the crowds, all making their way in the same direction, all that was left over were stable boys and assistants. Thrusious struggled to walking pace. He swayed and he stumbled and eventually found his balance. He made his way down the tents, seeing various coats of armour that he recognised, had heard of or some that he had never seen before. 4

Another flock of Yorchest birds flew across the above skyline and like the first flock; they screeched and cried out into the sky. This moment’s distraction was enough to put Thrusious off from realising his arrival finally at the meeting point of all the soldiers. There was a great roar from the crowd as a man appeared upon a constructed stage in the centre. He bore the coat of arms of the Count of Desiemus; the most courageous man in the seven regions; Thrusious’s father, a man now slain by the traitors of regions of Loladiser, Piradema and Hearufusch. The man began to speak to the crowd, Thrusious stood by and listened. “Quite! Quite please!” the crowd came to silence “Thank you, now the matter at hand. The army of Piradema is moving our way; we have been unable to make contact with Struchalia or Addettio yet and we must as it is imperative or this war is already lost!” there were various outcries from the crowd at this point but the man continued to address his audience “Now, I need a two hordes, one to ride to Struchalia and the other to Addettio” There was a sense of surprise and some shock in the crowd “That is madness!!” came a shout from the rear of the right hand side crowd. “No one will ever make it across those lands!” came another shout. Then a feeble old man appeared from the tent. A man Thrusious knew very well. “Let me speak to them Phorites?” the old man asked the speaker. 5

“They’re all yours.” Said Phorites, the sound of all hope lost in his voice. 6

“Now then, men of Desiemus and men of Fartharis. It has become evident to me, ever since the treacherous death of a man that united these regions came to our knowledge; there has been nothing but confusion and panic. The battles that we have fought so far, we have barely escaped; we are loosing men quicker than we are gaining them. We need to unite once again if we are to defeat these traitors we once called neighbours, friends, companions.” The crowd began to murmur. 7

“Oh yeah old man! How do you expect us to do that?!” a soldier cried, with various nodding heads and shouts of agreement from the others. “How? Well with Thrusious leading us, that is how!”8

There was an uproar in the crowd, not of detest but of bravery, of courage, of the uniting already beginning. Thrusious then realised what he had heard and before he could react the old man, an advisor of the late Count, had pointed him out and the crowd were around him like a pack of dogs. He was carried and pushed along to the stage, hands patting him and people shaking his hands. Upon the stage Thrusious became fully aware of what was happening, he straightened up and shook the old man’s hand, the same man that had found him that rainy night a week ago. “Thank you for finding me Archeite.” Now embracing the old man “You proved a tough man to trace dear friend, with the rain and the disappearance of the horse tracks” replied Archeite. Thrusious had forgotten about Heratiie; he let out a sigh but then turned to greet the men.9

The soldiers stood in awe. He wasn’t in the best form, or the right clothing; but even like this Thrusious was a hero. After his fathers death Thrusious had killed many of the intruders. He had valiantly driven the assassins from within the castle walls and one by one slain them all. The loyal bodyguards had stood by him and side by side, a companionship of no more than a hundred men; had killed twice as many, maybe more.  “Men of Desiemus and men of Fartharis, here me now, the time has come to stand for what we believe in, the time has come to fight for what is right, this time is ours, take it!” The men roared far beyond the edges of the desert, far beyond the mountains of Reichul, deep down into the valley of Kesanstine. “I made a promise to my father during his last breaths, that promise was to defend the freedoms of everyman here now living in the seven regions, every child that breathes, every woman that works, every last living soul that defies the three traitorous regions, are a friend, an ally, a companion, a brother and sister of mine!” the roars now reached beyond the beyond and the men were once again united. Phorites brought out Thrusious’s armour and sword. His armour, already bearing the coat of arms of Desiemus, now boar the count’s sign; he was ruler of Desiemus, overall commander of the allied regions. Thrusious wore his armour and raised his father’s sword high into the sky, the suns casting a mighty shadow upon the men.  “For Desiemus, For Fartharis, For Struchalia, For Addettio; For Freedom!” Thrusious turned to his cousin, “Phorites, I need a hundred men for my horde, we will ride to Addettio, take another two hundred men to Struchalia” Phorites nodded to Thrusious orders, embraced him and turned to return back to the tactics tent. Before he had taken three steps Thrusious added “Tell Jeriasato to lead the second horde Phorites” Phorites turned once again to his cousin and replied “It will be done dear cousin” With that Phorites was gone and Thrusious continued to walk into the crowd that was still cheering for him. He was reaching the back of the crowd when he heard a woman call out to her husband in the crowd. That is when he remembered her.10

“Archeite! Archeite! Where is she?!” the old man burst from the tactics tent. “Thrusious! Who? What is the matter?” the old man looked confused and startled. “The woman Archeite! The woman I loved!” Son I know nothing of what you speak of. Come, come, we shall speak in here.” Lead to a nearby tent Thrusious and Archeite sat at a long table and while the racket continued outside Thrusious divulged to the man about the girl he had grown to love. Once finished the old man was amazed, “I never knew such a beauty could exist Thrusious, Are you sure in the midst of battle you did not see an angel of such form?” Thrusious began to explain his and the woman’s history and where she was last before his father’s murder. “I must find her Archeite, she is my everything!” the advisor contemplated Thrusious's story and wondered how it was possible the girl was still alive, or even if she did really exist. None of the family knew of her, and they knew most people. “My dear son, I will enquire into this matter, leave it with me, when I have located her, I will inform you, for now you must gather the hordes and ride out.” The man arose from his seat and began to leave. “Thank you Archeite, please use everything in you power to find her. I cant bare to loose another so dear to me, Sepherene, remember her name, it is Sepherene” The old man cringed at the name, now he knew all too well the woman that Thrusious loved, he had had his suspicions as he had described her, now the name brought a chill to the old man and the wind picked up. “Looks like it could rain Thrusious, you better warn people.”11

“Rain, in this desert? You are fading in you age dear man, there has been no rain here for centuries!” As Thrusious exited the other end of the tent, a single droplet fell on his nose, and as he looked up to see the origin of the droplet, his face was once again drenched in an onslaught of rain.12

~ 5th November 2005 ~  Note : Story to be taken up again soon, for moment motivation has gone 13