"The two most common excuses for every act of evil ever committed are "I had no choice" or "I was just following orders." One always has a choice no matter the circumstances but those choices may not always keep you alive. Such trials will always be a test of ones soul and your true beliefs. Choose wisely."
-Warlord-

A servant rapped on the door before standing quietly while waiting on their master to bid them enter the room. Everything was quiet in the lushly decorated manor with its immaculately kept interior that showed a marked degree of wealth, its decorations also spoke of the owners lack of interest as nothing had changed in years. The bedroom was a testament to this spartan view and hardly bore any kind of creature comfort beyond what was required of their station. Appearances had to be kept up and of this Ismat never shirked her duty as an officer and noble, always dressing the part and remaining immaculately groomed as befitting her rank.

Sitting upright Ismat looked out the nearby window before closing her eyes again and bid the servant to enter but one hand stayed on her dirk just in case. Being paranoid came with the rank but something was in the air, something was wrong. Was it within her families manor or a problem at large? Trusting ones instincts was all important in the realm of politics and assassins but for a week now the feeling wriggling in her gut went beyond the petty day to day dealings. Things were actually quite safe as Fareed was ever watchful and took great offense to anyone poisoning or slitting the throat of those he considered "his."

Ismat spoke the word quietly as she watched her servant bustle about laying out a clean uniform before taking their place beside her dressing stool. She trusted this one to not stab her in the back as she did most of the servants but somewhere amongst them was the ever present spy that Fareed had secretly placed. Removing herself from bed Ismat walked to the stool and disrobed before sitting down, letting out a small sigh she waved a hand at the mare.

This one had been a servant for many years and knew what to do and how to accomplish her tasks quickly. Every brush stroke was well rehearsed and as the one worked diligently Ismat went about her own preparations and as the servant finished combing out her tail and mane Ismat finished her own tasks. Spitting into a bronze bowl she gave a quiet, toothy snarl at the mirror displaying her pearly teeth before regaining her normal blank stare. Not a word was spoken as the process continued and after dressing in simple undergarments she walked to her armor stand and waited.

A gambeson went on first and after buttoned securely the servant heaved the chainmail off its stand and after aiding her master in donning the steel chainmail Ismat belted it securely in place. Presenting the uniform that went over the ensemble Ismat stared at it quietly and ran her hands over its surface, it was becoming somewhat worn from age and seeing it made a knot form in her stomach. Many years ago when her grandfather Adil had presented the officers uniform to her she had been elated, overjoyed even at having proven she was learned and capable enough to be fit for duty as a ranking officer.

But now as she slipped into it and stared ahead blankly as the servant did up the buttons the reflection in the mirror across the room haunted her. A long time ago she had just stood in her room grinning like a fool admiring the uniform but now every time she put it on as of late Ismat understood her grandfather a little more. It had gone from a point of pride to a heavy burden that made the sixty some pounds of steel feel like three hundred and when the uniform went over top...

Holding up a smaller mirror to look over herself Ismat glared at her own reflection before passing it to the servant who handed her the last piece of the ensemble: a simple mail coif with a red turban attached. It was far from being entirely effective but it was not her actual helmet, this was for appearing in public. If there was to be fighting the real helmet was removed from its protective case, a veiled helmet with reinforcing plates to protect her nose. Fareed would be irate if anyone wore such armor other than the guards or mercenaries as it obscured the face and was deemed "unseemly" when worn in his presence by those of higher standing.

There were two sets of everything. One for showing off in the palace or public and then a second set for when there was killing to be done.

Ismat grabbed her sword belt on the way out and strapped it on quickly before leaving her room to wander the building on her way out. Walking the halls of the family manor was eerie since the last of her immediate family had passed leaving only Adil who seemed to haunt the place more than live there. Most rooms were now unoccupied and used for storage or simply forgotten as they had been killed off one by one in the various wars. Bad luck had struck time and again no matter how well protected they had been on the battlefield, no matter how far they had been from the front line. Some stray arrow had always found its mark or misfortune struck. Only one had died by an actual blade but that had not even been in combat, an assassin had slipped into the camp and mistook her father for Adil.

They never did catch the assassin as they only found out come morning when a servant discovered him with his throat slit and still in bed. Whoever the assassin had been they were either very lucky or a master of their craft but fortune had spared one but damned the other. Fortunately the assassin did not return for a second attempt as they were either content with their task or the message they wanted to convey had been delivered. Not that it actually changed anything in the end as the battle happened anyway and once more they marched away having accomplished nothing.

That was not entirely true however, Fareed's slaver allies reaped a great harvest as the army passed through the area and every settlement was looted for everything it had. The campaign was more a show of force that they could and would march out and threaten to beat the hell out of someone than to do anything else.

Leaving the manor grounds and walking through the portcullis that marked the manor's boundaries Ismat did not bother to look back at the small wall that surrounded her families home. Each manor in this well protected district which housed the nobility and wealthy had an adobe wall surrounding it of some sort. Most were joined in with the next but a few stood on their own marking those of higher standing with more elaborately designed homes. Most of the passerby were servants at this hour hurrying on their way to or returning from the market. Very few were up at this hour as the sun had only just risen and breakfast was not for another hour in most households save the workers.

Ismat on the other hand was an early riser much like her grandfather Adil but not quite so early as him and one had to wonder if he ever slept. Or could he? Her own sleep was becoming more troubled and coming harder and harder as the years wore on and after seeing the soldiers, Adil's soldiers, burning out the fever for the hundredth time it weighed on her.

Any attempt to talk to Adil was pointless as he would either cut her down immediately or go into a long winded speech of loyalty, duty and honor. Why bother? The die had been cast a very long time ago and now they just had to bear with it and survive.

Mercenaries guarded the only entrance and exit from the district and hiding her disgust with them Ismat continued to walk without slowing. There was no illusion in anyone's mind that the army had taken a backseat to the mercenary forces when it came to political power but it was only getting worse. Of her own forces three had been found dead in only one month as the two forces muscled each other back and forth in an attempt to see who was truly in charge. Of course "General" Xerin was always quick to point out that the soldiers had started every fight and never once the mercenaries.

Making matters even worse the mercenary captains had adopted a policy a few years ago where they kept meticulous track of the soldiery. Any that looked like they were particularly skilled and brutal were offered better pay and fortunes if they quit the army and switched sides. Normally that was desertion and would result in a hanging but Xerin had cleared it with Fareed, better the best of the best go mercenary and have better officers than the army. A smaller, more highly trained and downright savage force was better than loosing the talent amongst the masses.

Ismat could not imagine why Fareed would agree to this loss of talent but he always had something up his sleeve and no doubt had some kind of hold on Xerin. There was always a catch when dealing with Fareed, he would never allow this without some kind of safeguard which would allow him to strangle Xerin right back. But what was it?

Nearly letting out a snarl Ismat controlled her temper and stared blankly at the mercenary guards.

"And now that you have seen my face and uniform up close it no longer applies, ranking officers of the army are not required to identify themselves to commoners and you will not impede my access again."

Not once did their expression change nor a single snicker pass amongst them. Giving a nod the mercenary stepped aside and waved at the gate keeper who swung open the smaller door allowing servants to come and go. Ismat locked eyes on them and glared, shutting the servants entrance they pushed open the gate proper allowing her to pass without having to duck through the narrow side door.

Was this harassment or were they actually serious? It was impossible to tell anymore and any attempt to find out would result in nothing but endless headaches as the mercenaries knew they were outside her grandfathers chain of command. They answered only to Fareed and Xerin, no one else.

Traveling the street alone was not something she feared unlike other nobles and wealthy merchants as carrying a heavy coin purse was not something she cared to do most of the time. Indeed there was a small pouch with some coin in it but that remained tucked away underneath her uniform where thieves would have a hard time reaching it. Others who were far more paranoid however hired special servants who carried the coin and were all but under lock and key by the accompanying guards.

Guards. Soldiers. One and the same depending on if they were garrisoned or in the field. However, the farther she walked the more it made her cringe at how the quality of soldiers was falling rapidly. Any effort to corral their corruption or punish them was largely stonewalled and the junior officers were so corrupt now that unless the higher ranking officers caught them in the act it was impossible to catch anyone. Countless rackets had been exposed by a handful of spies and the soldiers loyal to Fareed but short of a handful of hangings and whippings there was little anyone could do.

The sultan did not care because the soldiers performed to standard in combat and could be fully expected to stand the line but beyond that he did not care. Corruption was overlooked so long as they did their job first and so they did, but as time passed things were ever so slowly getting out of hand. There was a cure for that of course and Xerin had been given leeway in handling it, those who got too out of line were killed or tortured as an example to the rest. Corruption remained however, but now it was carefully controlled.

Not that the entire army was out of control, Ismat and a few other ranking officers had managed to crack down hard enough that some ranks were better than others. Something that bothered her about it all however was how much time they spent looking at each other rather than outside. Infighting was unacceptable within the ranks but it was so carefully contrived it reeked more of purposeful baiting than actual grievance. Was this just one more of Fareed's little ways of keeping them under control?

Deciding to see what the gate guards were up to this early in the morning Ismat removed her helmet and slipped in with the peasants and merchant wagons. Before long the bored guards were within earshot and staying out of sight she listened to them shaking down a merchant for extra fees. It was a piddly amount but hearing the conversation made Ismat's eye twitch, this was perfectly normal in the city but it was illegal. Technically illegal in that it was extortion but no one was ever punished for it so long as someone higher up got a cut of the coins collected.

Putting her helmet back on Ismat walked from the masses quickly and reached the arguing merchant and guards before they could react. Standing over them she glared down on the parties involved making one side nervous while the soldiers choked. She had established a bit of a name for herself by hanging anyone she caught engaged in these activities and as ears flattened Ismat motioned for them to stand to one side. Holding out her hand the guard shakily dropped the coins into her hand and after passing them back to the merchant and waving them through she snarled at them a moment.

"You know the price for breaking the law, do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"While it means the gate will remain unguarded for a short time you two will disarm, I will then escort you to the city barracks where you will be shackled and await punishment."

Ismat's glare shifted from the guards to the mercenary who had run over from one of the smaller shops. He was not one of Xerin's by the look of him but one of the smaller and less aligned factions that hung on like leeches to the larger and more organized forces.

"Because this gatehouse and these guards are under my command and that puts them outside of your jurisdiction."

This one could actually read and that was a minor miracle but they forgot something more important, the guards were under Adil's command first, not theirs.

"Incorrect, these guards wear the uniform of the army and that puts them under General Adil first and not you. Any command that was transferred to you, which is highly unlikely, will confirm it at once. This also means you are now under my command and no longer that of your captain."

Pulling out his paperwork the mercenary smiled as Ismat snatched it away and read over it carefully. He was half correct, the guards were temporarily under his command for this one gatehouse but his control was quite limited. Was that a purposeful loophole or a mistake? Rolling it up and handing it back Ismat smiled at him which wiped the smile off his face.

"Unfortunately for you I caught them in the act of extortion and that means you are also responsible for their actions. Your command is quite temporary and only partial which means they are still under Adil's command and therefor liable for their actions. As they were engaged in illegal activities under your command you too are under arrest-"

"I was away while the crime was committed as you could clearly see and therefor I can not be held accountable for them."

"True... Do you suppose it will keep you from swinging?" Ismat's eyes caught sight of a patrol coming up the street and shouting at them sent them running to her. "They will escort you to the prison in the city barracks. Guards. Keep that one separate from the other guards and if they are not still locked up when I get there your necks will stretch for having let them go."

Nodding quickly the sergeant motioned to the others and gave a sigh of relief as they departed with the prisoners. Ismat knew full well that only yesterday that patrol had been the ones shaking down passerby at the gatehouse. However, they usually kept a lookout posted so they could drop the act and pretend to be honest and trustworthy guards. This lot had not been that smart and as she continued on her way there was no doubt that two would hang, the last whipped for being caught and then returned to duty.

Walking to the small shop she waved one of the servants over and pointed towards the gatehouse.

The mercenary was not entirely dumb, he stayed in the area he was supposed too but did not directly handle the shakedown. He did make one mistake and that was being dumb enough to accept payment in the open air where all could see and with any luck she might just hang this one.

"I doubt it... His captain will step in and demand proof. I will name the servant and they will immediately make them disappear or suffer a family accident so they are no longer willing to testify. At best I can use my own testimony to at least have him whipped for incompetence but it will only be to the ends that he learn from his mistakes and do a better job of shaking down merchants in the future."

Wandering the city aimlessly Ismat watched everyone either clear a path for her or try their hardest to ignore her passing. Her uniform drew a great deal of unwanted attention at times as passing patrols would freeze up or ask if she required an escort to wherever she was going. There was no answer as she had no idea where she was going and after crossing the two grand bridges that spanned the Thriti River she finally stopped to look around. Rarely if ever did she cross the bridge as most military matters were conducted on the other side of the river and the few times she did come this way it was to inspect the camp outside of the city.

It was not under her command but now and then Adil sent her to check on things and that was the only real exposure she had to this side of the city. Standing on the side of the street and looking around at the decrepit buildings Ismat's vision traced to some crumbling walls nearby. Without thinking she walked across and followed it till she found what was left of the entrance and entered walking down the wide, long stone path she climbed the steps and entered the massive building.

Caught up in her own troubles and still walking on sheer motion and the desire to find a quiet place to think never once did she stop to look around. Inside there were no seats but several mats had been laid out on the well worn stone floor and wandering to one Ismat sat herself before sighing.

Ismat quickly grasped her sword out of reflex and jerked around to stare at the speaker. Looking the tan colored mare over quickly she released her grip and turned away before looking around at her surroundings. At some point she had wandered into the temple and was now seated not far from the altar.

"So tell me servant of Fareed, why do you enter this holy place while wearing such and unholy uniform."

"Perspective. But why do you come here, your kind are either to scared to set foot in this place or too busy trying to destroy it."

The mares face and dress finally rung a bell as a few years ago she had been in the palace throne room and had dared to face down Fareed. For whatever reason he had allowed it but the argument had been short and swift as... Dana, yes that is her name, argued in favor or something or other while Fareed shot her down again and again. She was drug from the throne room kicking and screaming as he smiled and waved while Xerin laughed to himself. He allowed her to live because it amused him, it pleased him to permit her to exist just a little longer.

"Dana, yes. I remember you. Fareed had you drug from the throne room most unceremoniously."

"Or else what? Fareed will take my head? I will be publicly whipped, stoned, sold into slavery... Every threat that could ever be made has been so get in line because I dont care anymore. So, why are you here?"

"That is far from saying you have done right. One can be a loyal, dutiful servant of a devil and be an evil, wretched demon themselves."

"Ah yes... The same law that destroyed the city, enslaves people... I am familiar with your last campaign so tell me Ismat, after helping to enslave so many how does your dutiful and virtuous heart feel?"

"Is there a point to this? Do you have a reason for attempting to torment me when all I want is some peace and quiet? Is your duty as priestess to harass those who enter the temple?"

"Priestess?" Dana paused a moment before a twisted grin formed on her face. "I am the librarian from next door and your master is responsible for the death of the last priest."

"Unfortunately for you this temple was left in my care which also means I have a duty to protect it and if I so choose... To help those who come here."

Dana regarded Ismat quietly for a moment studying her features and how she was sitting, something was bothering the officer quite deeply. Her ears were somewhat pinned back but not so much in deep thought but more that something was eating at her and the cold, dead eyes were troubling. Furrowing her brow a moment before giving a very quiet sigh she remembered what the old priest had said about his duties and days such as this. That at some point your enemy may enter the temple but to choose wisely in treating them as an enemy or as a troubled mind in search of answers.

"Sometimes an enemy is only our enemy because they have not found their way yet and when the divine brings them to us it is my duty to show them the way. Only they can choose to walk it however."

His words whispered quietly in her mind as the other mare twitched irritably now and then. Deciding to take his advice Dana ground her teeth and sat down on one of the mats but stared straight ahead at the altar.

"I have found that those who come here without knowing how or why are often seeking something. Answers to their troubled mind and soul. Perhaps they are brought here to seek absolution for what they have done or find a new path."

"Yet here you are, seeking comfort and solace in their temple. This is a place to seek help and answers but unless you ask them no one will answer."

Dana made a motion towards the altar and then higher towards the engravings that decorated the pilars, walls and ceiling. Ismat laughed for a moment before becoming somber as the librarian stared at her blankly and finally turned away to stare at the altar.

"Oh ye of little faith, who stumble in the darkness and when offered the candle to light the way, whom turn it away for fear of what it might illuminate."

"No, it is something the last priest of this place said to an officer much like yourself many years ago. Or so I was told."

"And you are as dense as he was... But I believe I know why you are here now because you look the same and sound the same as he did. All I can tell you is what he said and hope that you take it to heart."

"Maybe, but let me see if this sounds correct... You are bothered by the state of affairs but not in the same way is disturbs most. Your army is becoming less your own and more corrupt, an extension of someone else's twisted will and that it does not serve to protect the nation or bring it glory but to grind everyone to a bloody paste. Despite this you still serve and hope that things will get better but you already know they will not, it will only get worse. Enough blood stains your hands to make the river turn red and not one drop of it can you honestly say had any honorable end. Your liege tears the world around you to pieces and no matter how you try and voice this concern you are silenced because it is not your place to question, only obey. But no matter how much you repeat loyalty, duty and honor the burden only becomes heavier and heavier till you can barely stand upright while wearing that uniform."

Ismat twisted around on the mat and narrowed her eyes in a mixture of curiosity and anger but the librarian ignored her completely content to stare straight forward.

"So you come here attempting to figure out the truth, is it worth it? But, you already convinced yourself it is, that if you simply do as you are told and serve the devil that somehow you are absolved from of your complacency in affairs both small and large. That slogan has been so burned into your mind with its contradictions that to even contemplate disloyalty no matter how well deserved, is to break ones loyalty and honor. A vicious cycle has formed in your mind so that no matter how much you object those "sacred" words snare you. But... That snare brings comfort because it is not your fault. After all, what is the alternative? Treason? Rebellion? That would fail immediately so you laugh it off but every time you scoff at the idea of saying "no" another small piece of you dies inside. So you come here, hoping that by just sitting here you will be forgiven of your sins without having to actually do anything. Does that sound about right?"

Opening her mouth to say something Ismat couldn't form any words and closed her mouth again before glaring daggers at Dana who continued to face forward and ignore the deadly glaze.

"I have everything to loose." Dana motioned to the building around her for a moment. "This is only the temple, there are the homeless and destitute in the university I see to as well and to say nothing of those who come here to pray for help. Quite contrary, I have everything to loose and little to nothing to gain."

"It is better to be called a traitor than serve a devil... Glare all you want but as I have said before you would be far from the first to try and put a rope around my neck. I do believe your master has made more threats of that than anyone else."

"From what? Another Fareed? Let us see then... You serve Fareed so that all of this can continue, you are his right hand in stomping out any opposition which might improve things. Every time you march to war to "protect" me people who I have never met or will ever know die or are enslaved so someone else can profit from it. Of all the "enemies" that surround us I can think of maybe... Two? That I would not care to see sit on the throne but they would still be better than Fareed. As for all those others you protect us from they have been at war with each other or themselves more than us and only wage war on us after Fareed does something to them. I believe Labrad was the last to suffer at his hands. Good job by the way, massacring all those pitiful peasants just trying to live their lives just so Fareed could control the trade road at Tuli."

"No of course not, Adil was as he gave the order not you and he was only following Fareed's orders... Or does he take orders from Xerin now? No? Well give it time. Dont worry, none of this is your fault, nothing is. You only carry the blade that deals out the punishment by their order."

"I should certainly hope so because I am not about to tell you it will all be okay and to just carry on as you always have like the rest of them. If you came here to hear an echo you will not hear it in a million years, everything you fight for is contradictory to this place and what it stands for."

"If only it were so easy. But then again if everyone packed their rags up and ran in the hopes of escaping this evil country led by a devil where would we be?"

"Exactly, there would be no one left to protect this place and the innocent who seek shelter here because gods knows you will not lift a finger to protect them. Though you do proclaim to do so while beating them down."

"Oh please... We both know that will hardly be a drop in the river and ten more will take their place before noon tomorrow, better ones too that will be harder to catch. Tell me though, does it help to hang a few now and then? Knowing that you killed some insignificant gnats that mean nothing on the grand scale, that their deaths makes the world a better place and you ushered in this new ray of hope? If you want to help why dont you walk down a back street in one of the less... Savory? Districts and find some foals with bloated bellies about to die from starvation and offer your little candlestick of hope to them. Tell them all about how by your glorious service they are safe to die in some gods forsaken hell hole and have the flies feast on them."

"You try my patience librarian!" Ismat stood quickly and put a hand on her sword but Dana laughed at her.

"Go ahead if you dare to draw a weapon in this place. It is you who came here to search your soul and I am merely holding up the mirror to your own wickedness. You wish to have peace of mind? To quiet your screaming soul? Or whatever is left of it... Then gaze deep in that mirror with both eyes open and see things for what they are instead of hiding behind that uniform and the lofty walls of the noble district. Walk the street some night and take a good, hard, long look at what you have sown and go to sleep thinking on what you will reap."

"What I will reap? Is that paltry threat supposed to scare me? To make me repent and turn my back upon my duty to my sultan and country?"

"No, it is supposed to make you think for yourself. Reflection is the key to understanding and only then can you see the way. So long as you keep telling yourself that what you do is out of duty, loyalty and honor the more your mind will drift back here till you grow cold inside and die."

"So you would turn away from everything you know and abandon all that you have worked for-"

Ismat tried to form a retort to everything the librarian had said but the mares words had not only gotten under her fur but dug deep beneath the skin and burned into her bones. No matter how hard she tried to formulate something it sounded more like an excuse than an honest answer. The more she tried the more it burned till all she could do was growl and walk away from the annoyance that had harassed her from the moment she entered this place. Regret burned in her mind from having come here but as she stormed out Ismat knew it was regret from having been told a truth she did not wish to hear.

Temples were supposed to be places of peace and tranquility, of finding answers and forgiveness but instead it had been thrown in her face. A mirror had been placed before her and the reflection had made her turn away with a mixture of fury and disgust. As the librarian had said there would be no echo in this place offering comfort, instead it had glared back into her eyes daring her to make excuses for her actions.

The air around her had grown colder as she walked out and each quiet clack of her hooves on the ancient floor made her more nervous till she was nearly running. No one had the right to judge her or so she kept repeating in her mind but with every repetition the air grew colder and she struggled to suck in air.

Part of her was dead inside, it had died years ago and this morning she saw something all too familiar in the mirror. Adil's eyes had stared back at her in the mirror and not her own, the old stallions cold, dead stare had made a jolt go through her spine. This place was not helping either, the more she screamed against what Dana had said the more she could feel it ripping her apart from within. Attempting to replace the feeling with anger or indignation made matters worse until she was confused and shaking. Exiting the interior of the temple and entering the outer cloister did not help either, the weight bore down harder as her mind screamed with everything said and done.

Stopping to lean on a pillar Ismat stood as best she could while her legs shook beneath her threatening to bring her down. Gasping for air and looking down at her hands all she could see was red dripping from them and her uniform was covered in it as well. Everything was red and panicking she slipped on something and fell down but instead of a hard stone floor the impact was soft and wet. Her eyes roamed down and the floor had become a verdant mattress of corpses, soldiers, slaves, young and old alike. Fighting to her hooves Ismat tried to run but fell down again and stared into a familiar face, it was the face of her first kill.

Everyone had been proud of her and congratulated her on dispatching an enemy of her lord but now that she stared down at the face properly, it looked no different than anyone else. It could have just as well been anyone she had seen this morning going about their lives and for the life of her she could not remember why she had killed them or why they had been at war. Why had it been so important that this one die for Fareed? Why had he willed it and why had she been so eager to appease him?

Trying to stand up and slipping on the blood, entrails and bodies Ismat felt part of her try and shut it out, force it away. Duty, loyalty, Honor. If she could shut out what she was seeing and hold onto what was most important it would go away and her vision would clear. Three other words drifted through her mind as she slipped and slid wildly trying to stand: Fealty, obedience, complacency. Part of her wanted to grasp hard but another fought against it and it terrified her, everything around her was mortifying and after the amount of death she had seen to have this disturb her was nerve wracking.

Deep within she knew that if she swallowed hard, stood and walked forward it would end in the blink of an eye, the nightmare would forever be over but there was a price to be paid. Ismat knew the price as she had seen it in her grand-fathers eyes every day of her life but she also knew what her life would become; but also what it would mean doing. What her life would become. Instead of living the nightmare, she would be the cause of it. A living, breathing nightmare. Staring down into the lifeless eyes beneath her Ismat could see her own twisted visage in their eyes.

But how could she not? To pursue things as they were it would never end and neither could she just drop it all and run as there was no doubt what Fareed did to those who tried. How could she escape this fate? Slipping again she caught sight of a hand from the corner of her eye and part of her retched while the other reached out for it. Pulled to her feet Ismat stood in the empty room looking around confused, something had happened but she could not remember what it was.

The argument with Dana was fresh in her mind but something was missing now, it was all hazy and incomplete. Deep within a haunting feeling chilled her bones but what it meant eluded her completely. A choice had been made that much she knew, however the details were missing. Looking at her hands and turning them over slowly Ismat looked down in confusion trying to figure out what had just happened. Trying hard to remember all that came to mind was a single, fuzzy thought: that when it was time to run, run and dont look back. But until then, bite her tongue and do the best she could.

Ismat walked around the pillar leaning on it for support and breathing hard, it felt like she had run for hours in her armor but the sweat on her body felt like stinging fingers of ice. Rounding the pillar a voice drifted to her ears and as a conditioned reflex she straightened up and snapped to attention.

"General, I- I dont know. I wandered in while taking a walk to think and clear my head."

Adil looked around the room carefully before settling his gaze on her again and Ismat noticed that for the first time in all her life, she was seeing Adil not wearing his uniform. Looking her up and down quickly he made a quick motion with his hand for them to depart and began walking.

"General, if I may ask, why are you not in your uniform? Never have I seen you-"

"No you may not." He turned quickly and glared down at her making Ismat fidget uncomfortably. "Swear to me you will not come back here again."

"This is for your own good and safety." Adil's cold stare did not wane but his tone changed to nearly a whisper. "It would not be wise for you to be seen entering this place. Avoid it if you value your life."

Ismat was confused for a moment as they walked through the temple grounds and reached up to touch her face. It was completely wet and the fur matted down as if she had both sweated a river and cried one at the same time.

"Extortion. I know, two of the soldiers were already hung but the mercenary walked away after taking ten lashings. You did your duty and upheld the law and justice has been done, feel proud of what you have done for the nation and its people."

Zebrican Warlord

by Arelak

Chapter 45: Life Choices