World's Edge
Authors: Ryan Kirk
World’s Edge
World’s Edge
Copyright
© 2015 by Ryan Kirk
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
For information about this title, please visit
www.waterstonemedia.net
Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited. The author greatly appreciates you taking the time to read my work. Please consider leaving a review wherever you bought the book, or telling your friends about it, to help spread the word!
Thank your for your support!
Cover Design by: Rizky Nugraha
This one is for Mom and Dad,
Still putting up with me after all these years.
Prologue
Akira, Lord of the Southern Kingdom, ran his hand through the grass. He closed his eyes and focused on the warmth of the morning sun on his left side. The morning was early and the predawn silence still held, the fort behind him silent as men rolled bleary-eyed from their sleeping pads. Akira had been up before the sun, driven by curiosity.
He kept his eyes closed as he listened to the soft rustle of a morning breeze through the prairie. If it was possible, even the wind sounded empty and hollow. The grass here was high, coming well above Akira’s waist. If he wished, he could sit and disappear from the view of those behind him. For a moment his imagination got the best of him, racing ahead of logic to present solutions to his confused mind. He pictured the Azarians, spread out in front of him - thousands of them, just sitting in the grass, hiding and laughing at their own private joke.
But when he opened his eyes, the rolling prairie in front of him was empty. He looked down at the grass, tall and strong, and thought of the amount of blood this field had been fertilized with. The grass here would grow strong long after he and his men had rejoined the great cycle. Their blood ensured it.
But there was no death here this morning. The sun rose on three armies that faced no enemy. Akira turned and looked at Fort Azuma, stone walls built tall and strong with sweat and lives. Behind it lay the Three Sisters, mountain peaks Akira could just make out from where he stood. Beyond them, even further to the north, lay the Southern Kingdom. Akira’s father had fought for ten hard cycles to retake the pass from the Azarians, and Akira had finished the work through the completion of the fort named for his father. He believed he had ensured the safety of his kingdom. No more would the Azarians be a threat to his people.
Today he wondered if his dream had come true. For sixty cycles the Southern Kingdom had fought and died against the Azarians, fighting to protect their border. The fighting in the pass was as regular and predictable as the seasons. Some winters were harsher than others, but winter always came, and spring always followed it. With the spring came the Azarians. Sometimes more of them and sometimes less, but they always came.
Now, spring was here. Even the prairie, usually burned brown by the sun, was green. The air smelled fresh and clean. But though spring was in full bloom, the Azarians were nowhere to be seen.
It should have meant rejoicing. Behind Akira stood fifteen thousand men and boys who might not meet their ends in this empty grassland. But Akira didn’t trust it. He couldn’t trust it. The silence in front of him wasn’t pleasant. It was oppressive, menacing. It felt like the wind when it stopped right before the storm hit, tearing well-rooted trees out of the ground.
Akira turned and walked back to the fort, causing the bodyguards he had ordered to stay behind to breathe a silent sigh of relief. Questions raced through his mind, but no answers. He couldn’t explain it, but when he looked out on those empty plains, he only felt one emotion, and it wasn’t relief. It was fear.
Chapter 1
Akira studied his maps. They were large, almost as large as the bedroll he slept on. Although he’d not say as much out loud, they were one of the prides of his reign. Maps were knowledge, knowledge of the terrain that could mean the difference between success and defeat in a military campaign. His were the most detailed of any in existence, and with the addition of small wooden figurines to denote armies and units, it gave him all the information he needed to run his kingdom.
The sun wasn’t yet up, but the candles in his tent provided plenty of illumination as he puzzled over the maps. He commanded five armies. The Fourth and the Fifth were far away, up north guarding the borders of the Western Kingdom and the Northern Kingdom, respectively. It was quiet duty, but Akira didn’t dare leave his borders undefended. The Lords needed to be watched, Tanak especially. Tanak, Lord of the Western Kingdom, was building his armies. Akira’s shadows reported Tanak already had three full armies with over six thousand men apiece, and a fourth was in development. It worried Akira, but it was a matter for another day. The treaty had held for over a thousand cycles, and Akira couldn’t see anyone breaking it soon.
Down here, at the southern edge of the Three Sisters, Akira held three armies. He had hoped to test his new generals in battle, but no battle awaited them here. His generals would have to find experience elsewhere.
Akira shook his head. There was nothing on the maps he hadn’t already thought about. He stepped out of his tent as the first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon. The morning was still. His sleep-starved guards stumbled to attention, but he motioned for them to sit once again. He was in the middle of his armies. There was little for him to fear. No one made it this far unless they were personally known. Ryuu’s casual breaking and entering of his castle grounds two cycles ago had caused significant tightening of Akira’s personal security. He preferred not having a sword to his neck.
His guards knew his penchant for wandering without company. His advisers objected, but it was a small way he could show solidarity with his soldiers. They risked their lives every day for the kingdom. If he couldn’t step outside his own tent without a company of soldiers, what type of leader would he be? His guards would report his wanderings immediately anyway. He never had much time to himself.
Akira wandered to the spotting tower and returned to the view he had looked upon the day before. The morning sunlight bathed the land in brilliant orange hues and Akira couldn’t help but think that Azaria was a beautiful land. Empty, but beautiful.
He forced himself to turn away from the beauty below. The land was still empty and nothing had changed. When he reached the bottom of the lookout he was met by members of his honor guard. He almost asked how they had found him, but he knew the answer. They may have given him space, but they couldn’t risk giving him freedom. Captain Yung, the head of his honor guard, was a strong soldier, but an even better bodyguard. Akira knew the captain had issued orders that Akira be trailed discreetly at all times.
Akira greeted his captain with humor in his voice. “That obvious?”
Yung, to his credit, did not smile. “There was only one place you would have gone, my Lord.”
“You never will call me by my given name, will you?”
“No, my Lord.”
Akira laughed. “Well, hopefully these generals will follow orders better than you!”
Yung shook his head and let out a short laugh. “Unlikely, my Lord.”
They covered the ground to the command headquarters in short time. Even though the morning was still young, and the camp wasn’t awake, all the generals were assembled. The command of a kingdom waited for no one.
When Akira entered the headquarters he scanned the room and took in the three generals of the armies he traveled with. They represented the best of the Southern Kingdom, and Akira considered himself fortunate to have their skills and expertise.
General Toro was the oldest, having seen almost fifty cycles. He had been promoted to general of the First after General Nori had died, making him the highest ranking general in the kingdom. He had the experience in the room that balanced the impulses of the two younger generals, Makoto and Mashiro.
The two of them were as brothers. They had served in the same units growing up and had formed a bond that could only be created on the battlefield. Makoto was the older of the two by a cycle, but he was still only twenty-seven. They were the two youngest generals in the history of the Three Kingdoms, but their skills on the battlefield, both as soldiers and as commanders, had earned them the trust and respect of all. They were both brilliant strategists and charismatic leaders. On their shoulders the Southern Kingdom would continue to grow in strength. Although only a single cycle sat between the two of them, they couldn’t have been physically any more different. Makoto was a giant of a man. Akira, who himself was tall, came only to the general’s well-muscled chest. Mashiro was thin and of average height, but his speed, both mentally and physically, was astounding. Akira wouldn’t want to be on the other side of the sword or strategic table from either of them.
He nodded a greeting and the four of them sat around a table covered in smaller versions of Akira’s maps. They all knew the decision that sat before them. There wasn’t any time to waste. “Thoughts?”
There was silence around the table, an unusual occurrence for the four of them.
Toro spoke up, echoing the thoughts of each of the generals. “There is no way of knowing the best course of action. We’ve never encountered this, and we don’t have any worthwhile information from scouts to base a decision on.”
Akira glanced at the other two, seeing nods of agreement from both of them. “Suggestions, then.”
Mashiro spoke up first. “We should march deeper into Azaria with a significant force. This is an opportunity too good to pass up.”
Toro disagreed. “It’s too big a risk. It presents an opportunity, true, but at what cost? I share Akira’s unease about the absence of Azarians. It could be a precursor to greater action - perhaps a trap of some sort to get us to leave our position here.”
Mashiro scoffed. “What sort of trap could it be? Our scouts have scoured the lands for leagues. There aren’t any Azarians in any direction.”
Toro eyed the younger general coolly. “There are many types of traps. It wouldn’t be a very good one if we knew what it was. I believe caution is warranted.”
Akira turned his gaze to Makoto. The giant was usually the last to speak, but his advice was always well thought out. There was silence as they waited for him to speak. “I agree with Toro.” He held up his hand to stop Mashiro’s outburst. “Our records of the Azarians go back over sixty cycles, and I have studied them extensively. Nothing like this has ever happened. Something beyond our knowledge is happening. Here we are safe and defensible. If we were to spread our forces we incur unnecessary risk for little gain.”
Akira nodded. The majority of the generals agreed with him. Mashiro would chafe, but he would follow orders.
“Remember, the Azarians are not my main concern. If we can build the defenses here so they are impregnable, that is what we will spend the season doing. Speed is of the highest priority. Work your men as if their lives depend on it, for they may. I want you all to figure out a rotation. One army focuses on construction while the others train and simulate maneuvers in the foothills. In a cycle or two we will make our move and our men need to be the best they can be. Understood?”
