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To His Majesty, King Alexander of Diafortia

It is a pleasure to speak with someone of your stature, and I pray that we continue to communicate in more letters, both formal and personal, in the coming era. I've been tasked by my king to create a preposterous treaty that intends to end the war with as little leniency as possible. However, choosing my voice to be the voice that you heard will hopefully lead to his downfall. King Alexander, if I may be so bold as to call you, I propose another offer, one that I anticipate you being in favor of. As you can guess from the sigil placed on the back of this letter, I am the human army's Commander, Luther Krisban. As you've seen on the battlefield, my strategies and tactical prowess have proved beneficial in leading the human army to victory.

I would like to change that, Your Majesty, and turn the tables in your favor.

You see, I've grown disinterested in my kind, seeing their hateful, demented nature for what it truly is, and in turn wish to end their unjust conquest of your lands. I am not asking to replace your current commander, despite his failures in besting me, but I will offer my services in counsel and, if necessary, prove my battle capabilities on the field. Your Majesty, I have a family. In total, there are three of us, my wife, and my son. If you'll entertain yourself with my knowledge, I only ask that they are protected from the heinous dictatorship that is the human monarchy, and the repercussions from my betrayal. They are the only ones I hold dear, and their status will determine my support in your cause. I want a home for them, preferably within a close proximity to the castle or wherever you choose to place me to work. I want armed troops nearby, in the unlikely case that the human army reaches the heart of Diafortia. When my information proves influential in keeping your nation alive, I'd like to see that their lives are kept to that regard, if you understand my meaning. To prove that this proposal is not a fallacy, there will be a night raid in Havenport five days from now. There will be two squadrons, a grand total of thirty men, who will strike from their ships at around midnight. If you heed my warning, you'll save your port and preferably the many lives that would be lost that day had the ambush succeeded. Of course, I anticipate your men to be prepared, but I ask that you be discreet. If you believe this to be a trap, then I pray that you have the room underground for at least (By our calculations,) a hundred bodies.

There is another matter for your consideration. Using humanity's best resources, I've learned of ways to bring back the Deux. I understand this information will be ill-believable, but even if you believe nothing else in this parchment, believe me when I say that I have already brought back one of them. I will explain in great detail my discoveries, and I will bring the one with me as well. While I understand that this revival of your holy ones may appear disrespectful, I can see no other option in winning this war. With me in command, I can buy you time, but one man, despite my power, cannot win a war. A god can, and I can give you one. I can win you this war. I beseech you, return my proposal with an agreement, and I'll flee for your land as hastily as my family can prepare for travel.

If you're not interested in the possibility of an alliance with the man who has pushed you back to the brink of surrender, then please consider that the treaty I was asked to write up demanded a portion of your resources as well as your ports. Such a treaty is disrespectful, and ridiculous in every way, shape, and form. However, I will request that you this letter, perhaps burning it would suffice. I consider you a man of honor and dignity, and as such I'd like to keep this proposition a story between us if you choose not to accept my terms.

With highest regards and the utmost respect,

Luther Krisban, Commander of the Union

The Wolf of Humanity

To Luther Krisban, Wolf of Humanity,

Considering your abilities and battle mastery, I must confess that the strongest trait you have shown me is that you can keep a King without sleep for numerous nights. Truth be told, I did not believe your words to be true. I ask, why now? Why strike up this bargain if thousands have already been lost, most of whom by your hand? I followed up with your advice on the night raid, and 'lo and behold, you were dead on. My men were spared, and the battle resulted in no casualties (Humans are so quick to surrender when their cause is fruitless). This event eased my concerns, for the most part, and eventually I decided to accept your terms. You're a capable man, Krisban, and Gods know how many of my people have died from your battle strategies. If you are in need of safe voyage, write me and I'll have a discreet vessel prepared for your arrival. Perhaps you could claim that you were invited to discuss the peace treaty. As for your wife and child, I will grant them a home in my castle, the safest place for them, as I'm sure you'll approve. You will work directly there, and they will have access to you whenever necessary. As for their treatment, they will be welcomed with open arms, practically one of the family, if I may, provided that you prove beneficial.

In regards to your other information, I greatly look forward to discovering how you have done the impossible task of bringing back one of the Deux. I have my doubts; grant me those, as this has been accomplished by no one prior. I'll admit, I want to believe it to be true, despite the repercussions that my beliefs bring about regarding the revival of the holy ones, but, despite the acid that fills in my throat when I say this, we are in desperate need of a miracle, no matter how bloody the price.

If any preparations are necessary, I plead you to write to me before your departure. If not, then I would enjoy your company within the next month.

His Majesty, King Alexander of Diafortia

A man of brilliant stature rested on his throne, his fingers relaxed in the center of his lap and his face displayed a sense of pride and self-degradation. His age shown in the discoloration of his fur, silver streaks defined himself to those that did not know him personally. Those the man kept close knew that the silver streaks were superficial. Despite his age, his grey eyes still shone brightly, his spirit unaffected by time. Their brilliance could not hide the man's fatigue, however, the red strains depicting his sleepless nights.

The room in which the man sat in was nothing to squander at. Regal red curtains covered the windows and bronze stone covered the ground. The curtains were pulled back, allowing the morning light to pour into the chamber. The throne was crafted from emberwood, the strongest, inflammable material native to the Terran lands. Much of the castle was fireproof, a necessary precaution after the last war. Despite their lack of magical talent, humans became capable of launching flaming projectiles. Now, they're burning this awful substance and sailing ships that travel without sails.

The door at the other end of the room opened and a young squire entered. He was a stout fellow, a dwarf compared to the man on the throne, but loyal. He kneeled before the man and said his graces. The man beckoned him to rise, and the squire did as told.

"What news do you bring sir?" said the man on the throne, removing his hands from his lap and placing them on the arms of the throne.

"Your Grace, Sir Luther Krisban has arrived." The small man appeared frazzled, his breathing heavy as if someone pressured him to deliver the message immediately.

"Send him in, along with any who traveled with him." The man gave the squire a short amount of time to rest himself, and when his breathing returned to normal, he dashed out of the room, fulfilling his duty as efficiently as possible. This act softened the man in the throne, inspiring a smile of relief.

When Luther entered the room, the world around the two men changed. Gusts of wind filled the room, forcing the red curtains to crash against the open windows. The sun's position had changed, and as such the light that once embraced the room dimmed, leaving only a faint speck. Despite these distractions, the man's grey eyes met with Luther's fierce blue ones. The room grew tense, one man staring at the bane of the other. Luther never saw Commander Pryce as a threat, he was weak, timid, and his war tactics dated. Truly, the only reason Luther lost battles was because of the strength and resolve of the man before him. The fortitude buried beneath the man's eyes were what kept this nation alive, being a foundation for his subjects to believe in. The man on the throne rose, and Luther approached. Luther was dressed in a fine piece of chainmail and a well-woven black cloak, one that nearly hit the ground. When he walked, the metal that he wore clanked to the steps, revealing a longsword at his side and a heavy satchel that was draped around his neck. When the two were but a few feet away from each other, the man spoke.

"I will only ask you this once, as I must see that your words are not false. Kneel."

As to his last king, Luther kneeled. His treason nearing its completion.

"Do you swear to serve me to the best of your capabilities, to lead my men to victory, to forsake your past alliances and forge new ones under your new flag? Do you swear to Alkiel the Holy, Lyria the Maiden, and Neera the Sinner that you will serve your new people with respect and loyalty until the end of your days?"

Luther remained silent for a moment. He lifted his head slowly and stared right through the man before him. He gave a very small smile.

"I do, Your Grace. I swear to the gods above, and I swear to you."

The time for the man to remain silent began. Luther comes with great promises, so much so that the apprehensions that the man had thought repressed were returning, believing the situation to be too benevolent to be true. Despite this, he nodded and commanded Luther to rise.

"Let us begin." The man spoke after the silence. "I will not lie, Sir Luther, I have my doubts, a fact you must grant me all things considered. I hope to enjoy our partnership, and that my doubts are eliminated from my thoughts."

Luther rose, standing to meet the man's height. The two were near the same height, and both stood proudly, unwavering.

"A traitor's words may be difficult to believe, but I will prove myself to be loyal to our cause, Your Grace, provided I have the time to eliminate your doubts. After all," Luther turned away from the man; facing the door and allowing a sickening yet sad smile appear on his face. "I've already brought you victory."

Before the man could question Luther's words, Luther called out an unfamiliar name across the room. A small child appeared, dressed in a similar fashion to Luther, a heavy black cloak that must have been twice his size, as well as a small dagger to his side. Just like Luther, the child carried a small bag that appeared ready to explode, releasing parchments and maps across the gust-filled room. His black hair was long, covering his cloudy-grey eyes that matched the man. The child stared up at Luther and avoided eye contact with the man. Nearly stumbling from the weight of his equipment and the fatigue of travel, the small boy made his way to the two men. He appeared perturbed, whether through the fear of meeting this proud man or disappointing Luther. As if rehearsed, Luther made a hand motion, and finally the child stared upon the man and kneeled.

Curious, the man gazed at the child for a moment and then returned his stare towards Luther, who had remained silent throughout the event. His smile remained however, and almost grew as he noticed the man's confusion.

"What is your name, child?" The man asked kindly. He could see the child's uneasiness, and as such did not wish to frighten him further. Besides, the mere thought of traveling with Luther Krisban for an entire month was more than enough to pity the boy.

The child kept his head down. "Zack Krisban, Your Grace."

The man smiled. This poor, poor child.

The man asked Zack to rise, offering his hand as well. Respectfully, Zack declined, not wishing to venture away from what his father had planned. The man asked Zack if he could retrieve the squire that escorted them in, as the meeting would be over shortly and the two could now rest after the long journey. Zack nodded and bowed before heading back towards the door. The man faced Luther, who was standing emotionless, waiting for the expected questions.

"You'll explain this in due time, correct?" asked the man, combining his hands behind his back and turning towards the open window. The wind had not died, and the last remnants of light were beginning the fade. The scholars anticipated rain around noon, and the clouds had heeded their predictions.

"Believe it or not, the child is crucial to winning this war. If it'll please you, I can discuss the details now, but I must warn you: You may begin to hate me after I explain."

The man wondered for a moment, thinking of the troubling ideas that this madman could have. He shook his head, believing such a dark secret to be discovered in private and possibly after a few drinks.

"Take the day to rest, you and your son. When you are ready tomorrow, meet with me at the command room. You will meet with your staff, and we can begin formulating plans. I'll have a guard posted outside your room to serve as an escort. As for your son, you can either share a room, or he can have the room next door. We've too many spare rooms in this castle. We don't receive many guests; most I despise or despise me. As for the day after, your son is free to travel around the castle, provided he has a guard escort him. A human child is as rare as a celibate priest in these lands, much less the castle. Over time, I'm sure I'll remove that restriction."

Luther thanked the man and asked to be excused. The man allowed it, and Luther began to leave towards the door where Zack and the squire had been waiting. Before he left, Luther glanced behind him, where he felt the king's eyes staring at him. Even though you do not realize, Alexander, my son will be your shining light to victory.

---

Zack

The first night was not as dreadful as Zack had imagined. His father had chosen the separate rooms, an action that didn't bother Zack. At this point in his life, he had to grow used to having his opinion rejected, despite the severity of the situation. Sure, Zack thought to himself as he lay in the overly-large rose-colored bed in a room that shared the same regalia of the throne room, crimson curtains and all, it's just a little different, that's all. In truth, he was frightened. Everything in this place was alien to him, the walls, the bed, the people. Zack tried his best to quell these fears, but his troubles prevented him from sleeping as easily as his neighbor, who was snoring gleefully over his new found place. With the unfamiliar new home and the noisy neighbor, Zack could not help but ease his mind on thoughts of the past. Eventually, these soothing thoughts of Zack's real home enabled him to sleep.

In his dreams, Zack could see his hometown. The small village was distant from the world's conflicts, and the humans were as friendly as they could be to anyone who entered their home. Even Zack's mother, an outsider that would have been tossed to the side and left for the wolves in most other places, was well-received and treated almost equally to the other villagers. Luther was rarely there, a happy time for Zack, as he was able to spend more time outside and exploring the forest outside the village as opposed to the intense studying and training that Luther would instill on him when he was around.

_ Zack was returning home from a day of adventuring, his muddied shoes and small tears evidence to his journeys. He opened the front door and saw the faint image of his mother. The image began to fade faster and faster, seeming to dissipate as Zack approached. Zack wanted to run, and scream to her, but by the time he reached where she was, the image was gone. Without ever really knowing why, Zack began to cry. He left the house and stared out to the woods. Slowly again, the woods began to burn, and while the trees screeched in agony and the laughter of men demolished Zack's eardrums, he could still hear his scream._

_ _ When Zack awoke, he wiped the tears from his eyes. He shook his head and sat up from the bed, still under the red covers, and huddled as if he were cold. His heart rate had risen tremendously from the experience and his legs were shaking as if he almost vomited.

Why was I crying? Mother's back in Lucina and she's going to come visit me and maybe I can go back home with her and never have to stay with father again and...

Unlike before, when the tears ran, he knew the reason.