Loopbreaker

Francis heard the bell and groaned.

How the hell did I die again?

As he started to roll over, his hand felt the weight of the blankets, their softness caressing his skin.

Sitting up quickly, he could see the small amount of light streaming through a pulled-back curtain.

“Hey, dumbass, it’s time to wake up,” Michael called out.

Groaning, he sat up and saw his brother chewing on a hunk of bread.

“What are those bells?” Francis asked.

“Beats me. I wasn't fighting, so I didn’t feel the need to check. Besides, if it’s that bad, surely someone will come to summon the great and powerful Sage Francis Lancaster.”

Smiling, Francis stepped out of the bed, then laughed as Michael groaned and quickly turned away.

“You really need to put some clothes on. I don’t need to see that while I’m eating.”

“Please, you still owe me for the other night with those two women. Besides, I’m fairly certain I may never sleep with clothes again if I have blankets that feel like those.”

“Yeah, yeah… Still, I’m going to wait out here where we have some food. Once you're dressed, we’re supposed to find that Stendon guy.”

“Stenson. General Stenson. The main tactician of the camp.”

Michael shrugged, waving the half-eaten loaf of bread in the air as he ducked out the opening.

“That’s your problem to deal with. All I know is I will keep eating as much food as possible. If this is some crazy dream, I’d rather know I made the most of it.”

After his brother vanished, Francis quickly grabbed the clothes sitting on a chair for him, grinning the entire time he got dressed.

Part of me wants to ask for permission to go visit my family and punch my dad in the face… I mean, they wore things like this every day, yet I was given something that felt more like a sack.

Grumbling a little, he considered the facts of everything that had happened.

I wonder how we’re going to deal with this whole no-magic thing.

Lost in his thoughts, he mimicked his brother’s earlier action and scarfed down a quick meal before stepping out of their tent.

“What the hell is going on?” Francis said out loud, frowning upon the confusion he saw taking place in the camp.

“Forgive us, sir,” a guard replied as the guard stepped forward from the side of the tent. “It’s been a difficult night as we attempt to return to old ways of communication here.”

“Without magic?” Francis asked, noticing the man he was talking to looked familiar.

“Correct, sir. All of the normal means of communication have broken down, so we’ve been using old methods that haven’t been practiced in… Well I don’t know exactly how long. Still, the General and some of the others had sheets of paper passed around earlier today and we’re all quickly adjusting to them.”

As the guard was talking, his brother returned and motioned over his shoulder with a thumb. “The bells,” Michael muttered. “That’s how they’re communicating orders.”

“Correct, sir,” the guard replied.

“So that previous bell was to wake everyone?” Francis asked.

“Indeed,” the guard said. “There should be a call to arms with horns if required, but the fog that covers most of the battlefield is still there. Who knew a whole system of bells could mean so much?”

“I believe you’re here to take us to General Stenson?” Francis asked, stretching as he peered out across the camp with warriors shouting and moving all over.

“I am. Are you ready?”

Both boys nodded.

“Very well, follow me if you would.”

As they trailed behind the guard, each of them occasionally pointed at different sections of the camp that were being taken down and moved elsewhere.

“Why are they–” Michael started to ask, but caught himself.

“Did you have a question, sir?” the guard asked.

“No… forgive me,” his brother said.

Francis frowned, knowing what had happened.

All the dead troops... The army is making space to spread out those who are still alive. Limit the exposure and create a new line of defense.

“You see it also,” his brother whispered.

“Yeah… You didn’t see the battle, did you?”

Michael winced. “No… I was… busy.”

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Rolling his eyes, Francis shook his head—he knew exactly what Michael was talking about.

“So… what’s your plan?” Michael asked. “I mean… what the heck are you going to do today?”

He could see his brother start chewing on his lip and knew a lot of concern was behind that mostly calm demeanor.

“I’m not sure. I just know that whatever happens next, I have no clue how it will turn out,” Francis whispered as he motioned with his hand, “I just know we need to get stronger.”

“How are–” Michael started.

The guard leading them grunted and pointed at the tent Francis recognized as the general’s.

“He is inside waiting for you. His guards will let you in.”

“Thank you,” Francis said as he watched the soldier bow.

“It is my pleasure, Sage. Word has spread of how you saved so many of us. For that, know I am always here to help, provided it does not go against my King or General.

With those words spoken, the man saluted and quickly moved off.

“So… like I’m seriously confused,” Michael said. “You still owe me an explanation, especially since everything keeps getting weirder.”

“I’d prefer weird than having been in the spot we were supposed to fight from.”

His brother grunted and nodded. “That… I can’t complain about.”

Pointing at the two guards who were eyeing them, Francis motioned for him and Michael to move toward the tent.

***

Francis almost felt bad at the size of the bags under the older man’s eyes. Stenson yawned again for the third time in a minute.

“Forgive me. I’m just… exhausted. Not having the runes and enchantments has made me realize just how soft I am.”

Snorting, Francis shook his head. “Somehow, I doubt that, sir. You could easily still kill anyone in this camp.”

The general chuckled and nodded, his brown eyes shifting between the two, Michael and Francis.

“Many aren’t sure if yesterday's actions were the best decision. Even King Baxter is trying to determine if we made the best choice.”

“I mean, we saved a chunk of the army from certain death,” Francis stated. “How is that a bad thing? Who cares if people are tired and there is no magic right now?”

A small smirk appeared on Stenson's lips. “You have no idea how much power has shifted within this camp because of that change. All the mages who demanded respect and power are now useless, most with headaches that haven’t vanished yet, and a third of them are still sleeping. Everyone who only a day ago felt they had value or worth because of the artifacts they possessed or the power they commanded from our gods is useless. I have almost no doubt that either of you could easily walk into their tents and slaughter them without any real risk, as most mages refuse to learn any melee skills. Only a few were smart enough to pick up a little self-defense as they trained.”

“Why is that?” Michael asked.

Francis and Stenson both looked at Michael, who was waving a small piece of meat on the end of his fork.

“Why is it they didn’t train in self-defense?” his brother asked again. “I mean, we’re nobodies and we have training.”

“Did you have training before youvolunteered or after?” Stenson asked.

Clearing his throat, the older brother swallowed the piece of food in his mouth. “I mean… obviously after, but–”

“Would you have spent every hour of your day training the magical arts, then learning to use a sword and shield once that day’s training was finished? Knowing that you would get no sleep until you passed out?”

The general’s question made Michael frown--he averted his eyes, staring at the carpet. “I… I guess I’d only have done one.”

“Don’t think I’m saying you’re wrong,” Stenson said. “I’m simply pointing out the obvious. When most are given a chance, they will choose to rest and recover. Very few are willing to endure actual pain and suffering to improve.”

Francis felt the general's eyes almost boring into him as he spoke that last sentence.

“So what are the King’s plans now?” Francis asked. “Has anyone gotten any intel on the enemy?”

“Sage Francis, you are always inquiring about things that most wouldn’t ask about--especially given your status and role so far. Kels mentioned to me this morning, before setting out, that you had wanted to possibly go into the woods. You do realize that right now that is where the next battle is taking place?”

“It seems like the logical area. Without the battlefield and open area, each side must be trying to find a way through the forest so they can learn something about the other. Has anyone spotted any of the bird creatures?”

“Not yet,” Stenson replied as he fought back another yawn. “We’ve been keeping a close eye on the sky, but none have been spotted yet with our lenses. A few have hypothesized that perhaps they cannot fly without the power of magic. If that is the case, we are very fortunate. For only one side to have information about the other is a boon and can change the entire course of a battle. Similar to how you knew what they would do with that spell.”

Francis couldn’t help but nod-- he knew at some point he would have to die again. His only hope was that before it happened, he could learn something useful about what would happen after this decision.

I’m not even certain there is a way to defeat that tiger-kin leader.

“You’re thinking,” Stenson said. “About what?”

Seeing the general studying him, Francis nodded. “Who is stronger? Fighting wise. You or the King?”

Shifting in his chair, Stenson scratched his chin for a moment, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

“Now… that is a good question. One that I’m not sure I could actually answer. He is gifted and skilled in many things, and fighting with a sword is one of them. I would wager a few gold Reevotort crowns if I still had both arms. With just one… we should be close to the same strength.”

“Can you tell me what his other abilities are? I mean–”

Holding up his only hand, the older man shook his head.

“You remember how I reacted when you spoke about my sword and what I could do with it?”

Francis chuckled for a second and then stopped after seeing the look he was getting.

“I… do.”

“No one likes their true power to be revealed. Many men consider themselves stronger than others, only to find out they are wrong the hard way. Some get a quick death, others a slow one, and the truly unfortunate souls receive a mark no man wishes to bear like the one tasked with training you.”

An image of Phillip flashed through his mind, and Francis grimaced.

“Yeah… our trainer had one of those,” Michael blurted out.

“I am well aware,” Stenson said. “One thing I did was research as much as I could about you, where you came from, and who trained you. Phillip… he was a good soldier if the reports are true. Lots of potential. His pride cost him everything.”

“Does this mean you know what happened?” Michael blurted out.

“I do, but that is not something I will share with either of you. He accepted a position far below his skill and trained many warriors over the last six months. He was only here this time because we knew there wouldn’t be but one more round of reinforcements coming.”

“How did you know that?” Michael asked.

Stenson sighed and looked at Michael, who shrank back slightly in his chair.

“Because all of us in my position know the cost of a long war. We weren’t prepared, and this isn’t against a different kingdom. We have faced an enemy that hasn’t seemed to be impacted by the countless troops of theirs we have cut down. Not only that, they continue to assault the other four kingdoms without any sign of being affected by those losses as well. The truth…”

Once again, the general couldn’t stop a yawn that came upon him.

“The truth is that within six more months, perhaps a year, if something doesn’t drastically change, all four kingdoms will fall.”

Francis glanced at his brother and could see him biting his lip.

“So what are we going to do to win?” Michael asked

“If I knew that, Michael Lancaster, eighth son of a man I have promised your brother not to name, I would tell you. The truth is… until Francis showed up, I had already prepared myself for the end of everything I knew. Now… for the first time in so long, I think we might have a fighting chance.”