"The sky's aglow with flecks of melted gold and rubies...and now the heaven themselves weep rivers of crimson out of unfortunate memory..."

Solon Jhee allowed a faint, crooked smile to crease his marble-like face as he stared out over the dusk-enshrouded horizon, his steely eyes reflecting the myriad of sunset colors like disks of glass. "Ho, how eloquent we've become," he chuckled faintly to himself, averting his gaze slightly to the thick pine forests that seemed to try to swallow up what remained of the waning sun. He closed his eyes, his near-smile growing even more wry as he faintly shook his head in mock-sadness. "My age must be catching up to me if I can spout poetic nonsense and be touched by it..."

A few seconds passed, eventually dying as the sun was finally engulfed by the forest below, their thick, needle-like foliage consuming what little light their captor attempted to shed before disappearing. Above, the skies took on a richer, darker shade of crimson...resembling all-too-painfully like a sea of blood. Maybe his own words, coupled by the mourning sky overhead, were a tribute...an ode to the lost young lives of the massacred Unicorn Brigade camp. Such a terrible pity, the general thought ruefully, his expression melting into its normal serious facade. If the treaty had stood, they would have returned to their families...but now countless mothers have no one to return to their open arms.

Further off to the distant southwest, much to Solon's distaste, a thin whisper of smoke drifted up into the waning sky, its fragile, pathetic existence serving as a recent reminder of the terrible bloodletting that had occurred what seemed like mere moments ago. The general's nose wrinkled in disdain. What did all the work for the peace treaty amount to? All the border skirmishes that broke out ceaselessly after Han and Genkaku's fateful duel within the State capital of Muse, all the young lives lost, all the young boys taken from their homes and trained as soldiers in the name of "national security"...in the end...wasn't it all just in vain?

At least the boys never had the chance to grow up as part of a lost generation...one of which he himself was a member...

"'Give them all the same grub and all the same pay and the war will be over and done in a day'" Solon muttered to himself, repeating the favored motto among the drafted young men that had been forced to fight in the border battles against their will. "That's right...everyone's weary of fighting. Now it's just a personal vendetta amongst the government officials on both sides of the border. It's not a matter of the nation's honor anymore. The people tired of constant battles...but Lord Ruka Bright...that's a different matter."

Ruka...that was the name of a man who had literally BRED upon warfare. Ever since Her Majesty, the Queen of Highland, had been slaughtered by soldiers of the State...Ruka had changed terribly, reverting to an almost feral state, constantly craving for soft flesh in which to sheath his ever-hungry sword within. With his own eyes, Solon had seen Lord Ruka actually drink the blood of slain State commanders, those maddened ebony eyes still desperately thirsting for the metallic tang of the crimson fluid even after the terrible deed was done. Ruka was a beast of the battlefield; bloodlust was his mother, anarchy his father, and the heaped bodies of defeated enemies his home away from home...

Ruka might as well have been the physical manifestation of Fear itself. But there was no better man to ask upon the concerns of warfare than he; Ruka knew more than even the most experienced generals.

So maybe it was no surprise that Lord Ruka had predicted the Jowston City-State's treachery. No sooner than a day had passed since the peace treaty was signed within the walls of Muse when the Unicorn Brigade was slaughtered and all the work that had been wrought to that ultimate end had shattered into uselessness. The nation was quickly thrown into the maw of righteous anger, the loss of their pride, their future, their CHILDREN, becoming the fans that stoked the fire.

Now...the war was returning...and with the same fervor as it had thirty years ago. He quickly understood why Lord Ruka had ordered him to keep his troops, the Second Royal Highland Army, under arms and ever vigilant even with the process of the treaty commencing. Once again, he would become a tool under justice's disposal, a weapon that would cleave a path of sanguinary, violent vengeance for the nation. Lord Ruka was the new commander of the Highland military, taking the place of his father, King Agares...and it was more than certain that their drama of revenge would run thicker than tides of blood. All he could do himself was to await the orders of his new lord, for he had sworn to Lord Agares, upon his very honor, that he would serve...

"Glory in battle, eh?" Solon Jhee muttered, his deep voice low and almost foreboding, as he turned his back to the dimming violet skies. He stole a quick glance behind, his lips tightening into a normal, grim setting. "What glory is there in dying like that...?"

A weak, whispering howl of wind clawed at the vacant air of the white marble balcony as if answering the question of a man who had no way of understanding. All that was left of Solon were his armored footsteps echoing emotionlessly down the adjoining hall.

Voices...echoing nearby, one belonging to a man, the other, seemingly stronger one belonging to a woman...their tones a mixture of annoyance and near-submission...

"I don't have any interest in your so-called 'favors', Rowd...now or ever, am I clear on this?"

"But Mi'lady, what of Lord Ruka? Think of what might happen if you decide to--"

"Ruka may be my brother by blood and much stronger than myself, but if you think I'm buckling under out of FEAR, you're sorely mistaken!"

Solon immediately halted his monotone pacing, his eyes darting over to where he figured the sounds were originating from. The unmistakable, strong feminine voice could only be that of Lady Jillia, the younger sister to Prince Ruka Bright and princess of Highland. A wry smile creased the general's marble'esque face; Lady Jillia always knew how to carry herself and her words, paired with a strong voice like hers, were as sharp as daggers. As he stopped at the meeting point where the two hallways met at a t-junction, he could see the young princess standing resolute beside the tall, armored form of who appeared to be an oddly familiar Highland commander, the wine-red and black folds of her courtly dress giving an almost morbid quality to her fair face. At that moment, Jillia's expression was tightly locked within a mask of impatient irritation; it was rather obvious that the man accosting her was causing her a good deal of grief.

"So, 'Commander' Rowd, was it?" Jillia said curtly, her words snapping painfully like a wet towel. "Would you be so kind as to get out of my way so that I may continue with my business, or do you enjoy annoying young ladies with pointless questions and empty promises?"

Rowd...? Solon fumbled through his mind for a moment and quickly matched the name with the face; Rowd had been the commander of the slaughtered Unicorn Brigade and had recently been promoted by Lord Ruka himself. His face wrinkled in mild disgust as he glanced at the slip of a man out of the corner of his own narrowed eyes. How could a snake in the grass like Rowd be given command of an actual platoon of highly trained soldiers? He was hardly a man of honor and he also seemed to have the most disgusting and impossibly obnoxious habit of flirting with considerably younger women. No wonder he had been the only survivor of the Unicorn Brigade camp massacre...the man was a damnable snake and probably slithered away to safety upon his belly. Lady Jillia hardly needed a man like THAT nipping and dragging at her heels...

Rowd, however downed as he might have been internally by Jillia's caustic, below-the-belt remark, was far from giving up, much to Solon's disgust. "Her Highness needn't be so harsh," he replied in the smoothest voice he could manage, unwittingly making himself even sleazier than he had originally passed off as. "I'm only looking out for your well being, Mi'lady...is that such a crime?"

"If you're so eager for a woman, Rowd," Solon suddenly cut in, "there are plenty within the city haunting the street corners that should be more to your flavor."

Rowd promptly spun around as soon as he heard his name being voiced, his expression less than amused and more akin to a man insulted. "Who dares to--!!" he started, his gloved hand reaching for his sword until he spotted Solon Jhee, his superior, approaching with an unamused expression upon his stony face. His own features fizzled into one of sudden embarrassment when he realized that he nearly spat into his commander's face. "L-Lord Solon!" he stammered, his voice reflexively jumping an octave or two up as he immediately moved his hand away from his weapon hilt. He fumbled a clumsy salute, a cold sweat breaking out upon his face. "W-What a surprise, I didn't expect to see you s-so soon!"

Jillia gave Rowd a chilly smirk. "So conveniently we've forgotten our rank, have we?" she remarked, her tone light and almost close to an iced laugh. "Or did Lord Solon's remark honestly hit a nerve?"

Solon Jhee raised a thin, graying eyebrow, his grim, unsmiling expression barely shifting as he regarded Rowd with his ice-blue eyes. Now he was even MORE convinced that man was less of a man than he'd first thought. "Lady Jillia asked to be left alone," he said, deepening his voice to such an intimidating level that he caused the other to flinch noticably. "Now...are you going to honor her request...or do you need a little...convincing?"

A large sweatdrop trickled down the side of Rowd's russet-blond head as Solon took a casual hold of his sword's scabbard, clicking the blade out with an audible CLACK as he eased it out with an armored thumb. "N-No convincing at all, Lord Solon!" the sleazy soldier uttered, his voice rattling more than his light armor. "I was just about to leave, honestly!"

"You'd better do so while I'm still feeling generous, Rowd!" The blade audibly slunk out another good inch from its sheath.

"Y-Yes, r-right away!"

Rowd hastily saluted once again, looking more like a man condemned as he quickly brushed past Jillia and Solon and walked briskly down the hallway, soon vanishing from sight. Solon shook his head in genuine disappointment as he allowed his sword to sink back into its lacquered scabbard. "Forgive me for nearly having to bear arms, Mi'lady," he apologized, bowing respectfully before Jillia, his expression locked within its usual seriousness. After all, a general was still but a servant to the royal family, and he DID know his place, unlike the yellow-bellied commander that had fled mere moments before. "I hope you weren't offended by Rowd's imperiousness...you don't deserve to be the center of his base attentions."

"Don't worry over it," Jillia replied, her voice still caught up in a strictly-business tone. "I'd be a shame to the royal family if a man like Rowd could get the better of me." She smiled faintly, almost bemused. "Although I DID relish that his expression when you served up your comments..."

Solon snorted humorlessly. "Insulting a so-called man like that is hardly a challenge," he responded flatly, his personality shifting to one more befitting of a general once again.

"I suppose you're right about that," Jillia said, curtsying faintly in respect as she had been brought up to do. "But thank you for your intervention. If I may..."

Solon bowed respectfully to the princess as he moved aside, watching as the young lady passed with the grace and finesse that her mother had been known for. For all he knew, as he watched Lady Jillia disappear into the shadows of the adjoining hallway, maybe the queen HADN'T died...but lived on as part of her daughter. She was becoming much like Her Majesty had been before the State had... ...

With a sharp, jerking shake of his head, Solon did away with the vagrant thought that clouded his mind, chasing away the ghosts of the past that had been plaguing him as of late. He was tired, his armor was weighing heavily upon his body, and night had taken its full grasp upon the Highland capital. Cracking a wide yawn, the general eased his cloak aside and began his own trek down the hallway, towards his quarters, where his bed was calling for him.

"Honestly, Solon...things were becoming most interesting before you interrupted Rowd..."

Solon felt his body tense up reflexively at the mere tone of Lord Ruka's chilling voice. The prince had decided to pay a visit to the general's private quarters not even thirty minutes after the other had gotten out of his bulky armor and into a loose-fitting gray tunic, black breeches, and soft brown leather boots that he was so accustomed to wearing when in a more casual environment. Even as Solon reached for the wine-filled decanter sitting upon the desk within the corner of his chambers, he could feel Ruka's black-glass eyes center upon him, watching his every move like a cat stalking its prey. The feeling was almost unbearable...

"I only did what I thought should be done in the name of decency, Mi'lord," Solon replied, his voice cautious yet strong as he walked lightly over to where the prince sat and offering him a wine-filled goblet. "Lady Jillia hardly deserves someone like ROWD chasing after her, anyhow..."

Ruka slumped further into the plush cushions of the ornately-carved chair as he took hold of the cup with a gauntlet-covered hand, peering into the wine as if something unappetizing were floating around in it. "Hmph," he snorted disdainfully, taking a small sip from the goblet as he frowned, "a man like yourself could afford a sense of humor. You should learn to take pleasure out of your job!"

Solon wordlessly poured himself a cup of wine and gently set the silver-wrought decanter back upon his desk before he settled himself into a chair of his own. "Perhaps so," he murmured, taking a sip of his own drink. "Still...I doubt this is the reason why Mi'lord has visited at this urgent hour...?"

"You catch on quick, Solon," Ruka grinned, his sharp canine teeth glinting savagely within the dim lamplight of the simply-furnished quarters. "I like that in a general. But yes, you're right...that's not why I'm here..."

Solon watched silently as Lord Ruka lifted his bulky-armored form from his seat and slid over to the room's only window, involuntarily shivering at the new wave of madness that washed over his lord's wolf-like features. For a brief moment, there had been a sentiment of his former nobility within that lupine face...but the relapse of murderous insanity that flowed thick like blood quickly drowned the sliver of nostalgia that had once been there. The prince stood straight by the high glass window that was enshrouded by parted, deep blue velvet curtains, the goblet clutched firmly within his gauntlet, his crazed eyes staring out past the thick grove of trees that smothered the ground three stories below. Solon just wished the man would finish his business and leave...his presence was becoming unnerving and almost...frightening.

Ruka suddenly turned aside, cape flowing as the prince set his unsettling gaze upon Solon. "You and your trips will journey south in the morning," he said, his voice almost taking a hissing quality that did nothing to ease the general's already-tensed nerves. "Go to the southern border by Kyaro and await further orders there."

Solon felt his eyes widen at the suddenness of the orders. He was being dispatched so early? "T-The morning, Lord Ruka...?" he stammered in surprise, jerking bolt-upright out of his chair, nearly dropping his cup.

Ruka Bright fixed a dangerously blazing gaze upon Solon, a frown nearly carving his maddened face in half. "For your safety, Solon Jhee, I hope you're not going DEAF," he spat, the goblet within his armored hand groaning in pain as the prince squeezed it almost mercilessly. "Or is there something about that order...that doesn't SUIT your tastes...?"

"I-I beg your forgiveness, Mi'lord," Solon quickly answered, knowing it would be suicide to push Lord Ruka's unpredictable nature any further. "It shall be as you've ordered."

A thin, strangely reptilian smile replaced the enraged frown that had been on Ruka's lupine face mere moments before, obviously indicating that he was pleased with the answer he had just received. "Very good, very good indeed!" he smirked, setting his empty goblet aside as he paced over to the oaken chamber door. "Enjoy the rest of your night, Solon...it may be a long while before you set foot within this room..."

With that, the prince was gone in a flurry of silver and blue, the door to the living quarters shutting with a dull thunk, leaving the general residing within to his now-troubled thoughts.

Solon's gut twisted uneasily. The morning...he was to take the Second Royal Highland Army with him to the border in the morning. He quickly swigged the rest of his wine down, its taste suddenly even more bittersweet than its normal tang, before setting the cup aside. Oddly enough, it wasn't the fact that he was having to depart L'Renouille so early that made him feel inexplicably queasy...it was the final words Ruka had said to him that had his stomach turning top side over. Reflexively, his left hand clenched over the thin, platinum ring that dangled upon a thin, silver chain around his neck...clutching an old memory almost as a gesture of self-security...