Matthew
Hubby
1506
IH-35 Apt 1914
San
Marcos, TX 78666
(410)
570-1498
The Swords of Kal’Tora
By
Matthew Hubby
Word Count:
Chapter 1
The war had ended. Ten long years of blood, sweat, and violent upheaval
ended as the Kal’toran armies pushed back the forces of the Greater Hegemony.
The peace was tentative, strained at best. Those who had fought for so long on
both sides were less than inclined to trust that the others would uphold their
end of the armistice. The Kal’toran Empire finally pulled back its armies for
the Greater Hegemony, disbanding all of its conscripts and sending them home.
Villages changed overnight. Men returned home to their wives,
some brought home new brides, others didn’t return at all. Some of the women
knew their husbands would not return, but still they waited for them. They
would return to their homes alone, and mourn in their own ways.
The village of Doussen was lucky in that regard, Most of the
young men returned a little older and wiser, happy to embrace their wives once
more. The boys who had left in the conscription line returned home men, many
with new wives of their own. A few even returned with children, ready to start
their lives once again, no longer fearing the dark shadow of war.
The Lord of Doussen, Lord General Alvos McClaire, had died in
the war, and having had no heir, had passed his titles and lands to his squire,
a local boy in the village who had gone by the name of Regas Anvilson. Regas
had been the bastard son of the village blacksmith and had served his father
for many years in the forge before being called into Lord McClaire’s service as
his squire. Now he was Lord General over Doussen, and he returned home with a
wife and child of his own. His wife was Alvana Wiess, a healer of the Order of
the Azure Flame. A Mage of some prowess, she hailed from the lands north of the
Greater Hegemony, and had come to Kal’tora from the Mage Academy in Kingdom of Halim
before the war. The two had had a son, who they named Algas, to honor both his
father, and his father’s master. Algas had been born halfway through the war,
and now a boy of five, he knew little of the sedentary life. But he looked forward to the promise of being
able to stay in one place for a long time.
As their coach approached their new home, Doussen Manor, Algas
was awoken by a rough bump as the coach stopped suddenly in the middle of the
road. Blinking and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he lifted his head slowly
but felt his father’s hand on the top of it and froze.
“Shhh…” Regas told his son as he leaned over to look out the
window of the coach with a frown. His lips where pressed thin and his eyes were
slightly narrowed as he attempted to see what was going on outside the coach without
being seen himself.