//------------------------------//
// Odium 
// Story: The King 
// by ironwolf 
//------------------------------//

The freezing wind blinded everypony in the same way, both the high-born knights, who marched proudly at the head of the column, the commoners, the low-born spearponies and axeponies, the cooks, as well as those, against whom this armed column marched against. Nopony, though, thought about the frost, the snow getting between the slits in their armor or their stiffening limbs.

Nopony’s gaze graced the exhausted figures falling at the side of the road. There was no future left for them, no struggles with the barbarians, no return in the glory of unfolded banners. Nearly shapeless silhouettes fell to the soft snow, welcoming the liberation from pain and fear. How simple a choice it was. All one had to do was to stop believing in victory, give in to the wave of doubt and embrace the deceiving warmth of the fluffy featherbed of snow accumulating at the side of the courtyard and to fall asleep for a little while, giving ones last breath. The brothers in arms only reached awkwardly to grab the abandoned coats and kept walking only to fall a little further.

For those that lived long enough to partake in supper awaited much worse a fate then an eternal, painless sleep. Gathered in silence around huge fires, shooting fountains of purple sparks into the air, they kept looking at each other with empty eyes. Faces without expressions used to have names once, used to, under a mask of feelings, hide a beating heart, ready to either love or hate. Now their muscles coagulated from cold and cruelty, their faces frozen in single grimaces, like a theatric masks. This whole grotesque troupe, covered with chain armor and gripping their weapons, waited restlessly for the break of dawn. If the troubled soldiers thought that nine days and nine nights of strenuous march through the frozen wastelands of the Empire was a road to a deepest abyss, then they certainly thought of the coming battle as an infinite void, where the rivers are full of blood and the mountains are formed entirely of dismembered corpses.

In a spacious tent standing in the middle of the encampment similar thoughts have troubled the mind of the future king.

Although he was believed to be the bravest of the brave, his devotion for the just cause of the Empire knew no equal, he fought the cruelest battle of them all. How much easier a battle with the barbarians seemed to be. He would have hundredfold preferred to stand at the vanguard and charge to meet his fate eye in the eye. There, in the foul heat of battle, his uncertainties would have melted, he would have cleansed his guilt with the vaporizing blood of the enemy. For these few hours he would not have to battle the forces he could not comprehend, against which a sharp sword was for naught.

For how many years has the Empire been the victim of powerful blows that reason could not explain? Firstly, groups of terrified refugees coming from the south, bringing terrible news of war fought between the tribes from faraway lands. He took these rumors lightly at the beginning, knowing full well, that the Empire’s border is well defended by a number of strongholds garrisoned by seasoned and valorous knights. But the defenseless groups of refugees were soon followed by hordes of starving barbarians. As long as the battles were nothing more than skirmishes fought with groups of reavers counting on easy loot they did not give the Empress much of a concern.

The captain sighed thinking about her. Some of the ice covering his heart melted immediately, changing into a distant, faint smile. She was the incarnation of the whole Empire locked in a delicate body, gifted with so many virtues that it was hard to believe that such beings grace this troubled earth with their presence. It was her wise rule that kept the Empire bound together. When she appeared before her subjects, speaking from a balcony of the castle tower, all of them became silent and listened as if they were enchanted. Which knight, scholar, citizen, or even a member of one of the lowest states would not have given his life for her? They all would and he, the Marshal of the Imperial Armies, would be the first one to do it.

It was no secret for any noble that hearts of these two beat as one. Maybe if the times were different they would have already been united with bounds stronger than steel. Alas, dark clouds were hanging above the Empire since winter began and had no intention of moving away. Chilling manacles did not leave the Empire’s borders, as if fueled by hate that was consuming the hearts of raiders constantly storming the borders. The merciless winter lasted, even as months have passed, blanketing the fields with snow and bringing hunger and disease. What little pieces of the once fertile lands were left have been sown with utmost difficulty. Not enough crops, not enough to feed everypony.
The raiders looked akin to the Empire’s knights. Born from noble blood, learned in both writing and the art of war, they became a worthy opponent of the Empire. Although they used to be divided into separate clans, fighting against one another, now they stood united against the Empire, banished from their lands by specters of hunger and domestic battles. They were said to be led by magi of great prowess, who were compared to the great sages of the Empire. Indeed, they must have wielded awesome powers, because the undefeatable regiments of the Empire began to suffer defeats even against much smaller opposing forces. Was it because of the hunger, the weather, the skill of their commanders, or their wizardry? It did not matter.

The bordering castles were taken by force and the citizens of the Empire, thus far living in peace, have felt the deathly breath of war upon their necks. The Empress, once aglow with happiness, now torn apart by doubt, was roaming the throne room trying to find a way to save the serf of her endangered feudum.

- Let the blood of our knights buy enough time for our subjects – boomed the future king with all force he could muster, unaware of his fate – we will break through their lines, reach the borders and cut their forces in half. Let us give them a choice, to attack further with no food, so the Grandmasters’ regiments would crumble them to dust, or to turn to us, concealed behind the high walls!

And so it came to be, and the coming day when the fate of the whole Empire was to be decided, for failure would leave the whole country nigh undefended from further raids.

That was the enemy the Captain was facing.