Tyrant of the Ruined Sun

The beggar stumbled tiredly through the small rural village as exhaustion clawed at his feet, trying to trip him, while weariness tugged enticingly at his eyelids, slowly seducing him into visions of a warm bed and peaceful slumber, yet the man pushed onwards with drunken like steps that were brimming with an unfulfilled purpose.

Within a few minutes he had made his way to the settlement's only temple, where a handsome young man with wavy dirty blonde hair, piercing brown eyes and wearing the clergy's signature white apparel, spoke casually with a group of rugged, yet kind looking farmers and herdsman from the village as they seemed to hand him several satchels of produce from their farms, seemingly in a gesture of gratitude.

The village's temple was little more than a slightly larger barn, made of the same basic materials, such as wood and clay, as the rest of the structures in the small hamlet. The only distinguishing feature was the small, waist height white stone fence that encircled the grounds, meant to act as a rudimentary bulwark to any of the local's husbandry animals, as well as to show their own respect and appreciation to the gods and especially the patron god of their nation, the Lord of the Underworld, by distinguishing his place of worship ever so slightly from their own abodes in their own meager but sincere way.

Yet despite that, the beggar in his haste and delirium completely missed the existence of this stone fence and quite comically stumbled head first over it.

The gathered men rushed to his aid upon seeing this, only for the beggar to clutch the priest's robes firmly in his hands as he weekly whispered through his parched lips "The Head Shepherd... I need to speak to the Head Shepherd."

"Who?" The men asked among themselves as they looked at each in confusion, not recognizing the title of which he spoke of.

"He looks like a lost beggar. Maybe he's just been out 'n about under the sun for too long?" One of the men voiced out.

"Or just ravin' mad." Another of the more younger of the group replied mockingly.

"Who cares about that now?! Help the poor man inside for the sake of the gods!" The rough voice of the oldest among them, a tall man with broad shoulders in his mid forties, with a thick mane of greying hair and an even thicker beard bellowed out.

Quickly scampering before the older man's howl they swiftly brought the beggar in, and laid him on the priest's bed so he can rest and have the priest, Droghab, heal him even as he continued going on and on about this Head Shepherd of his.

"Thank you mister Timios." Droghab thanked the older man.

"Don' mention it lad, it's the least we could do after what did for us. And haven't I told you to call me uncle?" He replied as he side eyed him accusingly.

"Understood, uncle." Droghab answered with a defeated smile.

"That's more like it." Timios said as he lovingly slapped him on the back.

Soon after the men all left to go back to their fields or cattle, as life in these parts of the world didn't allow for much leisure time, as that would spell nothing but doom in the coming winter months.

Yet the moment they were no longer with in Droghab's sight, his humble and cheerful smile vanished as he approached the beggar and cryptically asked "Who do you serve?"

"The people's future." The beggar replied unhesitatingly.

"Why do you serve it?" He asked again.

"For the greater good." The beggar answered again.

"And what is the greater good?" He questioned with a tone of finality.

"A world of and for the mundane." The beggar replied in a tone of maniacal fanaticism.

Droghab's face finally eased as he asked "What's your name soldier? And why are you here?"

"My name's Akara sir, and I'm from the Bathisma Flock in the west. My shepherd ordered me to come to this church and deliver his message to someone he called the Head Shepherd." The beggar explained, clearly not fully aware of the significance of his own words.

"Hmm... I see." Droghab muttered, before standing up and saying "You stay here and rest up. I'll be back shortly."

"No! Absolutely not! I don't any rest, I must deliver my Shepherd's last message... Please!" Akara replied almost frantically, refusing any comfort before his duty is done.

Seeing this, Droghab stayed silent for a moment before yielding to the desperate man saying "Alright then. Just stay here for a few minutes and then you can meet the Head Shepherd."

"Thank you." Akara sincerely expressed his gratitude as he bowed his head. Though he felt that something was off, as he thought he detected a hint of pity in Droghab's eyes before he left.

True to his words, Droghab returned within ten minutes and quickly dragged him to another room in the temple where he found himself before a plain looking woman with looks so ordinary it almost felt eerie to Akara, though he couldn't exactly tell why.

The woman wore ordinary clothes that were no different than those any commoner would sport and she had no accessories adorning he ears, neck or wrists with the sole exception being the ordinary looking silver ring that rested on her left ring finger.

Akara turned his head to Droghab, as if asking for confirmation, seeming to not believe that this small, frail, and plain looking woman could actually be the one he was after. But when he saw Droghab quietly nodding his head to him, he had no choice but to relent and accept this odd turn of events.

Taking a deep breath, Akara began "Greetings Head Shepherd, I am Akara from the Wes..."

"I already know who you are, soldier. Tell me what the message the Shepherd of the west gave to you." The woman interrupted, as she spoke with a monotone voice seemingly so detached it sounded arrogant in Akara's ears. Yet he didn't voice any complaints as he awkwardly cleared his throat and continued.

"... My Shepherd sent only four sentences. The mission has failed. The butcher has completely unleashed his hunting dogs. The Western Flock is no more. Forgive me." Akara finally stopped as the tears that pooled in his eyes were threatening to fall.

"Is that all?" The woman asked in the same monotone voice.

"... Yes." Akara answered, growing more and more irritated with each passing word uttered by this woman, as he felt insulted by her seeming apathy as she heard the last words of his beloved leader, as well as the news of his friends' and comrades' demise in the service of their cause.

The woman calmly nodded and said "I see. Thank you for your efforts and sacrifice."

Hearing this Akara felt slightly better, as his impressions of the woman began to slightly improve, until his throat suddenly erupted in a crimson guizer of fresh blood, as a dagger's edge protruded from his Adam's apple.

Akara felt a maelstrom of thoughts and feelings engulf his mind in these last few moments of his life, and though he wished to say and yell out a thousand different words, he couldn't. As all he managed was a mouthful of spit and blood as his lips parted and soundlessly mouthed 'Why?' before he unceremoniously slumped to the ground.

"Make sure you bury the poor lamb properly." The woman said casually in her monotone voice.

"Understood, Head Shepherd." Droghab replied as he saluted.

"And send a message to our fox ally in Appethus telling him that the mission had failed and that he must prepare for the worst case scenario." She ordered, but this time Droghab remained in his place not moving or saying anything.

"Is something the matter?" She questioned.

Yet Droghab still remained silent for a few more seconds until he sighed saying tiredly "May I speak my mind Judith?"

Hearing him call her by her real name was a bit of a shock to her initially, as it's been many years since she's heard him say it last, and she also knew that he meant to talk to her from this moment onward not as her subordinate and right hand man, but as her oldest and dearest friend.

Feeling a slight tug at the edge of her lips that she hadn't felt for years, while the smallest of glimpse of a smile graced her features, as she replied "Of course."

Hearing this Droghab breathed in a huge lungful of air, as he confidently said "We should stop and cut our losses before it's too late Judith. This is starting to get way out of hand, and it's only going to get worse from here on out if we continue down this road!"

"We have completely lost the Western and Eklepsus Flocks, with the only one remaining being the heavily damaged Eastern Flock and your telling to cut our losses now?" She said calmly before resolutely declaring "No, it's far too late for any exit strategies, we can only continue."
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"But it's not too late yet!" Droghab exclaimed "You once said that we'd never be truly defeated until they killed every last one of us, well we're both still alive and so is the Eastern Flock. We can rebuild, slowly and methodically, like we did before." He argued desperately, trying to convince her.

"Do you honestly believe that that butcher would allow us to quietly rebuild our lost strength while he's at the helm of this empire?" She argued back.

"Of course it's going to be more difficult, but when has anything not been challenge of near insurmountable heights in our lives." He replied confidently, with a hint of nostalgia in his words.

Hearing this Judith remained silent for a few moments, before replying "This is the first time you've ever been so adamantly against one of my plans or decisions." Then she paused again for a moment, before saying in an assuring tone "Tell me what's really weighing so heavily on your mind."

Knowing that he could not skirt away from this any longer, Droghab sighed one last time as he answered her with a question "Do you truly believe that a fox can swallow that dragon?"

"What do you mean?" She questioned, but Droghab was having non of it as he sharply countered "Don't play dumb with me Judith. You and I both know that Zadkiel is a crafty, conniving little fox, but that is all he is. He has the courage to desire what is above him and try to reach for it, but he lacks the backbone to actually get his hands bloody and dirty when it truly matters. Do you honestly believe someone like that... can face that monstrosity?!" Droghab finished while a terrifying chill raced up his spine, as he remembered the streets turned pyres of Thalab a few months ago, when that butcher's executioners came on swift wings to deliver his merciless judgement.

Droghab has frankly never seen something like that before and it deeply haunted him. Most rulers would try to placate their subjects or at the very least give them some meaningless and empty promises to appease their anger and dissatisfaction, before quietly disposing of the real trouble makers, but Alexander never did. He slaughtered all who stood against him without so much as a single whisper of an appeasement or attempt to safeguard the lives of his citizens before he brought down his sword.

"You're correct. Zadkiel can never be his nephew's equal. A fox can never slay a dragon." Judith's voice brought him back from his thoughts, as he looked at her with hopeful eyes, begging her to stop this mad plan, but all he received in return was disappointment, as she continued "But it matters not, we're going to continue to see this plan through to the end."

Droghab opened his mouth to speak, but was instantly hushed by Judith raising her hand in a clear gesture to stop as she continued "I understand your worries. Truly, I do; but there are other powers at play here Droghab, ones that desire the butcher's death more than even us, so calm down and put your trust in me like you had done so many times before." She finished at the same time as her once small smile completed it's transformation into a wide, toothy grin.