February, 908 E.C. 

The Great Sacking was what they called it. In September of 907, it was the single most devastating loss of Elsiran territory in centuries. An army of 25,000 Albar troops had managed to cross over into Lylaserien over the course of a few days. From there they had a direct line up to a number of valuable and important settlements within Elsira. The banner of the Black Rose was synonymous with devastation. They had destroyed the teleportation setup behind them, however given the lush and well supplied Elsiran countryside their army had plenty to loot and plunder. 

The Albar mages blocked magical communication between the cities and towns in their path and the army of the Grand General to prevent another attempt to teleport her army from Albar. All she could do was march back as the first signs of winter took hold over the region. Short of supplies this saw attrition set in for Nalista’s army. They had been robbed of friendly strongholds. Robbed of places to stay in. Where the Black Rose of Albar went, the lands were raised, the people scattered about into the freezing winter and all potential salvage claimed. 

Defeat. This was actual defeat. Nalista had been forced with nowhere else to go to retreat deeper into Elsiran territory. It was a long and miserable march that saw them lose thousands to the cold and starvation. Her hope had been to take the capital before snow had set in but this. This was not something she had predicted in her wildest nightmares. 

The Grand General had been forced to retreat all the way to Rethelielat, stewing over her defeat at the hands of the Black Rose. Many of the elven army had wanted to pursue him. They had the numbers yes. However they failed to understand his goal wasn’t to hold territory. It wasn’t glory on the battlefield. It wasn’t a single decisive battle. It was to bring the cost and horror of war to Elsira. It was to rob them of resources and force them to reassess the cost benefit of fighting in Albar versus other regions. 

Umyemelluven had fallen after Lylaserian had been burned to the ground completely. Fort Lylren had been depleted in manpower due to their offensive. And now he was laying siege to Elnead. The casualties were staggering. There was no more a person that was aware of this than Prince Rickard himself. 

The cold winter air stole the heat from his lungs with every breath. Albar winters were always quite cold so this wasn’t anything new to him. Sieges in winter were a tricky thing. However they managed to blockade the port city as well. With the surrounding villages and fields taken and stripped by Albar, Rickard knew they would have to surrender eventually. The Elsirans were not used to the conflicts being taken to their lands. It was evident in how unprepared they were. Time was of the essence of course. 

“You shouldn’t stand outside so much, your grace. Nose might fall off.” Remarked Franz next to him. His bodyguard was offering out a wineskin for him. 

“Tent is too warm and insulted for the season, feels unnatural.” The prince chuckled as he took the wineskin and took a long drink. 

“Concerned, your grace?” The man asked.

As the booze warmed his insides he shrugged. “Constantly. We managed to take advantage of Nalista not accounting for my using mages. She’s probably already started to work on responding to this.” He sighed. “The same trick won’t work twice. Not on her.” 

“You sound like you admire her, your grace.” The man took back the wineskin. 

Admired… that wasn’t a bad word. “She has ended whole nations. Crushed opposition wherever she could find it. Defeated countless enemy generals across the ages. She’s a brilliant commander. A mind unmatched by any humanity has to offer. When I was growing up I would have called her something of a personal heroine. I’d have loved for all the world to meet her in person and just ask her so many questions. Part of me honestly would still enjoy that.” He answered. 

Franz seemed taken aback by that. “An elf? I do hope you aren’t spreading that around to those that aren’t your close friends.” He said. “Half the nobility would string you by your ankles for that statement.” 

Rickard started walking along the hill overlooking their siege camp. His boots crunched through the snow and another breeze nipped at his exposed face. The night was alight with little fires through the camp, really it looked like a city all of its own and indeed it was to some degree. A city of tents and siege equipment. 

“Of course I don’t share such things beyond you, my friend. I’m also not blind. She’s the leader of an army that enslaves and casts down humans. She has no doubt happily stepped upon countless innocent people. Sentenced them to slavery forever. No doubt she would happily do it to me as well. I’ve humiliated her in the theater of war after all. I can’t imagine she appreciates that.” The Prince remarked. 

There was some part of him however that wondered what such a woman was really like. Was she an irredeemable cruel tyrant? An inspiring leader? He had never seen an illustration of Nalista. He didn’t even know what she really looked like. He closed his eyes and tried to picture the face of his enemy. The face of the one that he was fighting for the survival of his nation. A desperate struggle. 

His eyes played out over the city in the distance and the sea beyond there. He could see the firelight in the distance of the ships in the blockade. Count Lastrem was a great friend of his, a brilliant sailor as well. His contributions were what made this siege possible. If they could just take the city in a few more days… then they might be able to sue for peace. Losing such a major hub would be a blow hard to recover from. 

The firelights of the fleet were dwarfed moments later as a massive green plume of flames fell over them, lighting up the whole of the night. Ships splintered under the force of an explosion large enough to be seen for miles around. The shockwaves of it sent snow and water flying into the air. The heat from the explosion was such a massive wall of steam filled the cold winter air. Rickard’s dark eyes reflected the green glow as he watched in disbelief for a few moments. 

Another explosion further down the fleet lit up the night however there were also more flickers of light in the vast distance of the sea. More ships. He didn’t have to look long to know who those ships belonged to. He gritted his teeth as more explosions shattered through the fleet and more magic burned through the night. They might as well have been toy boats before the Elsiran ships coming in. 

“Your grace…” Franz sounded mesmerized by the sight like so many in the camp were. 

“Looks like we took too long.” Rickard said with gritted teeth. “Find as many of the captains as you can. We are breaking the siege and redeploying. I have no doubt she’s got another army marching here as well by land.” 

Damn it, if only they had a few more days. Just a few more days would have seen the city break. No chance of that now. If they stayed here they were going to be pinched between her fingers. He looked back out into the darkness of the sea now lit by hellish flames born from magic. Perhaps she was out there. 

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Nalista gazed out from her flagship as the ships of the Albar burned to magical flames. She saw the flagship of the enemy was trying to turn and mount a defense. At least until it seemingly vanished into the waves. It didn’t vanish of course. A simple flick of Dalia’s wrist nearby had sent the vessel and all of the crew reduced to a mere toy ship in the waters before her own glorious gleaming white and gold vessel. 

The tiny human vessel bobbed in the water as the shadow of Nalista’s hull fell over them. They screamed before they were crushed to splinters by the massive elven vessel passing through the space they had once occupied. They weren’t even a speedbump on her path. Not worthy of notice. Her eyes were searching for something else. On the shoreline beyond them. The sharp blue orbs set upon the firelights on the shore. A grin split her lips as she saw the lights starting to move. 

“I’m coming for you, little prince. Run toward Albar as you like, soon enough you’ll realize you are an ant trying to scramble from my palm.” The Grand General spoke aloud.