The traces of war were nearly absent from Spostalea. Maru had waltzed into the continent's second largest city after scattering Dream's leftover forces with barely a bullet fired. He had heard of the incredible duel between the young SKT general and the incumbent King Life, and he regretted not having had the opportunity to witness it himself. More than that, however, he rued the disappointing climactic battle for control of the castle. His cold hands belied a malignant itch for combat.

Dream would have been a worthy adversary had he endured his marathon against Life, Maru thought. The junior Terran reminded him of himself from years ago: always eager for a fight and direct in his approach. Yet he was still too young and too naive to comprehend the demands of leadership.

On the other hand, Life would have been the greatest test had he weathered the bombardment from Dream. The king had been Maru's contemporary in the academies, and they shared remarkably similar backgrounds. They had been considered the two brightest young officers in training, and they arguably reached their potential in full. Yet in the past few months, Life had hurdled past Maru even though the latter had been elected Chief of Terran. Obviously, nothing compared to being King.

Strange, then, that Life had risked his crown for Spostalea when he already had his seat of power in the capital. Was it greed, man's primitive sin? Was it foolishness, or poor counsel from his peers? Or did he simply misjudge his power? Maru preferred to believe, however, that the young man had become a tyrant. The continent had known such beasts before, and the reigning monarch wore the indelible marks of the god of destruction.

Maru's stream of contemplation refused to abate, his mind overactive from a restful day of routs. His stale expression hid a wandering mind, but his commanders could not tell it apart from his routine indifference. After all, Maru was never quite one for celebration, and only ever showed excitement when his gauss rifle was drawn. The electricity of battle disappeared the moment his finger divorced the trigger.

The commander of his vanguard grabbed Maru by the elbow, jolting him into the present. It was customary to wave at these ceremonies, and Maru had once again forgotten. The crowd sang cheers as the army passed, their homes and businesses spared from ruin, and Maru marveled at what Spostalea could become. They reached the castle at dusk, and everyone knew it would be a soft night.




After a tiring evening of congratulations and compliments, Maru could barely keep his eyes open. His page led him to the royal quarters, and they needed 3 people just to manipulate the door. It was the biggest bedroom Maru had ever seen; in fact it was bigger than the entire headquarters of his previous clan, Prime. The young general had to squint just to see across the room, and the lilting fire—perhaps it could more accurately be described as a bonfire of vanity—could not even touch a single corner. Maru saw a bed, a desk, a couch, and a set of closets near the light, and everywhere else was dark. The chamber set dwarfed the little prince; instead of comfort it drew unease.

Maru attempted to fall asleep, still in uniform, but he laid awake drifting in a foamy sea. The tide was calm and the air was cool, yet he could not find his place. He had come a long way, he mused. He still wasn't used to this new life. Nor a bed. Maru paced around the vacuum of his chamber, again lost in his thoughts.

It was only five years ago that he lived in squalor. Prime wasn't exactly a clan known for extravagance, and the unification of the continent three and a half years ago only introduced more competition. They lived on the spoils of successful campaigns with no commercial ventures or support from wealthy investors, which led to a difficult life for all those under its banner. Maru was 13 when he joined as street urchin, and even though he started as an ammunition mule, Prime understood that he would one day raise them into relevance. Yet the clan was poor and could only provide Maru with basic necessities. He had grown used to sleeping in bunks with his mates and now that he had the luxury of his own room, he found it lonely.

He wondered where his old comrades could be and what his mentors were doing now. He wondered who was left on his old clan and whether they would all fit in this giant bed. He wondered how they were doing in their new clans and how Prime had been disgraced by scandal. Maru's thoughts trailed off and he eventually fell asleep on the couch, lithely hanging by the edge as if he were about to tip over.

The next morning, his page found him nestled in a pile of blankets and cushions. He must have fallen in the middle of the night without noticing, and the attendant wasn't sure how to wake him. But when the regimental horns blared in the distance, Maru automatically rolled into attention and dressed without dismissing his messenger. Finally, another day of action, he assumed.

Instead, it was a day of procedure. Because the entire region of Spostalea was secure, Maru had nothing to do but drill his forces and assign regular maintenance. While he was no longer required to fulfill these chores, the little prince still considered it better than sitting in an office all day. He stomped to the barracks and everyone moved out of the way, obvious as it was that he had not gotten a good night's sleep.

Maru herded company by company into an open field and ran them through a day's worth of exercises in under an hour each. His troops huffed and wheezed, but not a single one complained as they were still fueled by the pride of recent victory. It was the first time since the end of battle that Maru had spoken more than three words. By lunch, however, he had exhausted everyone, down to the armory clerks, and had nothing left to do. He checked on his command post for updates, eager to discover any news on Life or anything suspicious from SKT.

"Anything to report," he asked his communications officer.

"None sir. All's quiet on every front." The officer realized that this wasn't the answer Maru had wanted, but before he could add anything the young general was away in a puff of angry steam. He had badgered just about everyone in the castle keep, and by 3 in the afternoon everyone was hiding from him. No one else could withstand his aura of anxiety, and he spent the rest of the afternoon emulating new year's eve at the gun range. Eventually—or thankfully, depending on who you asked—the sun set and Maru tired.




After another round of dinner festivities, Maru returned to his uncharted chambers. He walked over to his bed questioning how he'd ever fall asleep on such a thing. After 5 years of war, anything more than a roof over his head felt strange. It was his time with Prime that hardened Maru and instilled in him the habits of constant warfare. He attended every small skirmish and joined every possible campaign, believing that experience could age him faster than time.

It was experience, after all, that allowed him to seize the boom town of Ognalea three years ago against SKT's mighty general Rain. The small city prospered after striking oil, and it became the hottest property on the continent. All the clans wanted in on it, but SKT eventually prevailed. Rain governed for a year until Maru bamboozled the Protoss commander and ousted him with special tactics. It was that conquest that put him on the map, and it would not be long until Jin Air adopted him from the orphanage that was Prime. Now he was the leader of Jin Air's army, five straight years of war older.

He paced around the room gathering blankets and cushions, determined to find a way to fall asleep. While his body was in the castle, his heart was out in the field. The only conclusion he could reach from another interminable night of reflection was that he could no longer stay in Spostalea. Tomorrow, he would march, and no one would be able to stop him. And as he said those words he ran out of building materials, only to discover he had built a pillow fort with the table. He crawled in and began his descent into slumber.

He wondered when Jin Air would recall him for redeployment in a contested zone and who he would have to face there. He wondered where Life could be now, how powerful he had become and what strategies would be able to defeat him. Maru's thoughts trailed off and he eventually fell asleep under the desk, huddled as if he were back in the trenches.

The next morning, his page found a fort of blankets, cushions and wood, but Maru was already up and dressed. He had decided that 2 days in the city had been more than enough, and it was time for him to get going. He had his Jin Air jacket on and his squire knew he was serious.

"Sir, you mustn't. We have orders to hold this city," his alarm clock fearfully admonished.

"They can hold the city without me. I'm going on patrol. A 50 kilometer patrol."

Attempts to calm him down proved futile, though his assistant didn't really expect Maru to relent. He buzzed straight to the barracks, where his personal guard were waiting. They knew their chief well and yesterday's infernal training session had telegraphed this would happen. They would have followed Maru to the ends of the earth, but they collectively cringed as his top officers—one with shaving cream still on, one with a single boot, and another still in boxers—chased after him. Their own attendants followed with the rest of their clothes.

Maru looked back and yelled, "You're not going to stop me!"

The three men panted and paused. The army's comms officer had apparently been waiting for Maru, and it gave them the time to finish their morning routines.

"Sir, you're going to want to read this," the comms officer said while handing Maru some documents. It was a thick folder full of reports and updates from last evening. Maru rolled his eyes as he prepared to read, a burden he didn't exactly enjoy. Fortunately, the clever officer was again prepared: a bulleted list of headlines summarized the novel underneath.

Jin Air declare war on SKT.

Life loses scepter of power in battle, finders keepers losers weepers.

* Finders become king, by the way.

Glostalea and Spostalea expected to be contested throughout the year.

Maru smiled. This was going to be a good year yet. He closed the folder and handed it to his page—not to read, but for kindling—before the rest of his officers converged.

"They want us back at Jin Air HQ, sir."

"Right. Finally. I was starting to get in a bad mood."