Paragon of Destruction

A half-hour after his return, Arran found himself in the garden of a wooden mansion, not far from the barracks that housed the Wolfsblood Army. Spacious and well-maintained, it more resembled a noble's home than it did a soldier's quarters.

"I didn't expect they'd give outsiders so warm a welcome," he said, taking another portion of the grilled meat and flatbread that stood on the table before him. "If I'd known about this, I might have returned sooner."

Kaleesh grinned. "The Governor provides barracks and training fields to all groups that pass through the city," he explained. "And the areas for the larger groups come with some luxuries for their leaders. I don't think they expected an outsider to end up in here."

Arran nodded thoughtfully as he took another bite of food. With most of the large groups led by the sons and daughters of Lords, it made sense that they'd be given greater luxuries than others. Yet while that explained why the Wolfsblood Army had a mansion, it did nothing to clarify how Kaleesh had amassed so many troops in the first place.

"How did you do it?" he asked. "This army — I knew you'd succeed, but this is far beyond what I expected. How did you find all these soldiers?"

The captain gave him a small smile. "I'd like to credit my charm and leadership," he said, "but the truth is that I simply emptied the city's prisons."

Arran felt a feeling of foreboding rise from the pit of his stomach at the captain's words. "The prisons?", raising an eyebrow as he looked at Kaleesh.

"In the Imperium," Kaleesh said, "prisoners may earn their freedom by serving in the Desolation for a single year. Those who choose to do so are taken to border cities like Knight's Watch, where they wait to be recruited by groups heading into the Desolation."

Arran narrowed his eyes. He understood now why Kaleesh's soldiers had such a rough look to them, but he also recalled that none of the other groups had looked like that. "Then why didn't I see any prisoners among the other groups?"

"Most groups recruit a few dozen prisoners, at most," the captain said. "Any more, and the Darians fear that they will rebel. A reasonable fear, since there are many cases of prisoners doing just that — killing their commanders and escaping the Desolation."

For several seconds, Arran remained silent. Finally, he said, "I assume you have reason to believe we will not end up having our throats cut in our sleep?"

"Of course," the captain replied, and as he spoke, there was a hint of excitement in his voice. "Most criminals in the Imperium are outsiders, born in poverty without any hope of improvement. It's hardly a surprise that they resent the Darian nobles. But we're outsiders, as well."

"You think being outsiders will win us their loyalty?" Arran cast a doubtful look at Kaleesh. While being outsiders might be of some small help in winning the prisoners' respect, they would certainly need more than just that.

"Don't take me for a fool," Kaleesh replied in an irritated tone. He took a deep breath, then continued in a calmer voice, "I've also offered them a fair share of the rewards — a chance to not just win their freedom, but to build a future. And unlike the Darians, I will not use them as mere battle fodder."

Though Arran remained unconvinced, he saw in Kaleesh's eyes understood that he would not be dissuaded. The captain had grown up as an outsider in the Imperium, and for him, these men — these criminals — were likely a reminder of his younger self.

It was obvious that the captain's purpose in recruiting them wasn't just to build an army, but to offer the outsiders the opportunities he himself had been denied. And while Arran wasn't certain whether the idea was a wise one, he could tell that Kaleesh had long since made up his mind about the matter.

"What about the Governor?" he asked instead. "He didn't object to an outsider emptying his prisons?"

"I expected that he might," Kaleesh said. "Which is why I sent Rangers to every prison at the same time. By the time word of what was happening spread through the city, the deed was already done. Since then, I've done my best to avoid the Governor's messengers."

"And with the prisoners already freed," Arran said, now understanding the situation, "you figured that capturing an entire army would be more trouble than it was worth for the Governor."

"That was my hope," Kaleesh replied with a nod. "So far, it seems to have worked."

"That was a dangerous bet you made. What if the Governor had decided to take action?"

Kaleesh hesitated before answering, and when he finally spoke, there was some uncertainty in his voice. "The Governor had no real grounds to step in. There are no laws limiting how many prisoners a group heading into the Desolation may recruit."

"Just common sense," Arran replied. "But clearly, those who wrote the laws didn't have you in mind."

At this, Kaleesh rolled his eyes. "You wanted me to raise an army, didn't you? And whatever you may think of my decision, these prisoners are more competent fighters than the farmers and shepherds I would have had to take without them."

"I suppose they are, at that," Arran admitted. Despite his doubts about the captain's plan, he could not deny that the prisoners seemed far more capable than the villagers he had seen in some of the other groups. "But what about the Rangers? I take it you didn't find them in the Governor's dungeons?"

"If the prisons held treasures like that, they would have been plundered long ago," the captain said with a laugh. "Most of the Rangers in our army come from smaller groups that joined on the promise of getting a fair share of the rewards we earned. And others have joined, as well — caravan guards and mercenaries, mostly, many of them outsiders like us."

Arran nodded, then asked, "Are there enough?" Although he'd seen several new Rangers within the Wolfsblood Army, he hadn't failed to notice that there were far fewer of them than in the other large groups he'd seen.

"No," Kaleesh replied flatly. "We have just over two dozen Rangers — more than most groups, but nowhere near as many as I'd like. I've been sending Arjun out to recruit others, but most Rangers are hesitant about joining an army of prisoners."

"Can't say I blame them," Arran said. "But perhaps we might not need as many as you think. My progress these past few weeks has been better than I expected."

"Is that so?" The captain narrowed his eyes as he gave Arran an appraising look. "Just how much better?"

Arran thought for a moment, then answered, "I should already be close to matching Knights — normal ones, mind you, not Imperial Knights. But if I'm correct, it's only a matter of months before I reach the level of Knights in earnest."

"You—" Kaleesh stared at him with shock written across his face. "You were gone for under two months, and you've returned with a Knight's strength?"

"Near enough," Arran confirmed. "I finally recognized some flaws in my training, and resolving those brought some unexpected benefits."

"Most Rangers never become Knights, and those that do usually take decades. You're telling me you already achieved the same thing, and without any guidance?" The captain looked at Arran in disbelief, then stood up from his chair and drew his sword. "Show me."

Arran gave a small nod, then stood up as well. That Kaleesh would want to see his progress was no surprise. While the captain wouldn't suspect him of lying, he probably feared that his commander had lost his mind — and not without reason, given the outrageous claim he'd just made.

And that the claim was outrageous, even Arran had to admit.

Only a single step lay between Rangers and Knights, but that step represented a vast difference in ability — a difference that was far larger than the one between Rangers and common soldiers. A skilled soldier might have some small hope of defeating a Ranger, but no such hope existed for a Ranger who faced a Knight.

Both Arran and Kaleesh had experienced this when they had joined forces against a Knight. Although Kaleesh's speed had far surpassed their opponent's and Arran's body had been awash with the power of battle, that they had even survived the confrontation owed more to luck than it did to skill.

And so, if Arran wanted Kaleesh to believe that he had bridged so large a gap in so short a time, mere words would not suffice.

The two faced each other silently, Arran's expression relaxed while Kaleesh eyed him cautiously. Then, with a small nod, Arran signaled that the fight had begun.

Kaleesh was the first to attack. Without warning, he struck forward, his sword shooting out toward Arran's chest like a bolt of lightning. The movement was fast enough that Arran could only barely see it — clearly, the captain did not hold back in using his true insight into speed.

Yet Arran didn't need to see the attack to stop it. His opponent might be impossibly fast, but the understanding he had gained in fusing his insights meant that he had seen through the strike even before it was even launched. And so, a lazy movement was enough to deflect the thrust, and a second casual swing brought his sword to a stop against the captain's throat.

Kaleesh looked at Arran's blade with wide eyes, then quickly stepped backward. "That could've been luck," he said, though his tone made it clear he didn't believe it. "Again."

Arran shrugged. "If you wish."

Again, they faced each other, and again, Kaleesh was the first to move. This time, however, he did not rely on speed alone. Rather than blindly rushing forward, he began an elaborate series of movements, a rapid series of strikes that formed a near-impenetrable defense as he cautiously approached his opponent.

But near-impenetrable wasn't enough. As Arran observed Kaleesh's movements, it only took him a second to recognize the flaws in the captain's defense, minute though they might be. Once more he moved lazily — a simple forward thrust that slipped neatly through Kaleesh's defenses and came to a stop against his chest.

"Son of a goat!" Kaleesh cried out, his eyes wide with a mixture of frustration and astonishment. "Again!"

Arran raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Kaleesh replied gruffly. "I'll admit that you appear to have made some progress, but I refuse to accept that the difference between us has grown this large."

A third exchange followed, then a fourth, and then more still, but each ended the same way — with Arran effortlessly besting his opponent. Try as the captain might, it soon became painfully clear that neither effort nor luck was enough to close the gap between them.

Finally, Kaleesh could no longer deny it. "You rotten bastard," he said, still panting from the exertion of launching several dozens of failed attacks. "You were actually telling the truth."

Arran was unable to keep himself from smirking in triumph. "I can teach you," he offered gracefully. "If you wish."

"You'd better," the captain said. "But first, tell me how you did it."

"That," Arran began, "is a long story. But then, I suppose I have the time to tell it."

Kaleesh wiped the sweat from his brow, then made his way back to the table, where he poured two large glasses of wine before sitting down. "And I have the time to listen," he said. "Now get on with it."

Over the next hour, Arran carefully explained what he had learned during the preceding weeks — how he had come to understand that insights could be fused together, and the path he had followed to arrive at that understanding.

He didn't tell Kaleesh everything, of course, nor did the captain attempt to dig too deeply. Even if there were few secrets between them, neither failed to understand that some truths were best left unspoken — especially in the Imperium, where Arran's background being discovered would risk both their lives.

When Arran finally finished, Kaleesh let out a wistful sigh. "I'm impressed. To gain the understanding you did with what little knowledge you had — not many could do the same thing." He frowned, then added reluctantly, "I know I couldn't."

"Then it's a good thing you have me to teach you," Arran said with a grin. "With the insights you already have, your progress should be rapid. The hardest part is developing insights in the first place, and you should have an easier time at that than the Darians."

The captain nodded thoughtfully. "Then I will welcome your help. Still — I suspect it will take me months if not years to reach your current level."

"Probably. Which is why we should get started immediately."

"Immediately?" Kaleesh cast a glance at the half-emptied bottle of wine on the table, then gave Arran a helpless look. "Surely we can wait a few—"

"We start now," Arran cut him off. "Time to get up, you lazy fop. There's work to do."

Despite the captain's protestations, a few minutes later found them hard at work in the quiet garden, with Arran meticulously detailing the techniques that Kaleesh would have to master before fusing his insights.

He'd chosen only a small selection of techniques to teach Kaleesh, ones adapted from both the Forms and the Darian foundation, but they should be enough to give the captain a path forward — even if the two of them were somehow separated.

Despite his complaints, Kaleesh proved a quick study. It took him less than two hours to pick up the basic techniques he was shown, and although that could only barely be considered the first step of a long journey, Arran still found himself surprised at the captain's progress.

Once he finished the lesson, satisfied that Kaleesh understood the foundation he had been shown, he gave his student an appraising look. "You've been studying the Darians' techniques while I was gone," he observed. It was the only explanation. Though he wouldn't dare underestimate the Kaleesh's talent, progress this rapid couldn't be explained through talent alone.

"So I have," Kaleesh confirmed. "I've seen what Knights can do, and only a fool would fail to recognize the foundation they're building on. Still, this single lesson of yours was more useful than anything my Rangers have shown me so far."

Arran shrugged. "The Rangers don't yet know what they're working towards — not truly, at least. Nevertheless, you'd do well to keep learning from them. What I've just shown you is only a path, and to reap its benefits, you'll need to gain many more insights."

"I gathered as much," Kaleesh said, scratching his chin in thought. "If I understand correctly, fusing your insights should yield better results the more you have of them, right?"

Arran gave a small nod in response, and the captain continued with a grin, "Then it seems that, despite your newfound power, you still have some use for my army. None of the troops might have anything near your strength, but together, they still have a thing or two to teach — even for you."

At this, Arran could not help but shake his head in wonder. Although he'd had the same thought days earlier, he hadn't expected Kaleesh to catch on quite as quickly.

But then, he'd learned long ago not to underestimate the man.

"You figured it out more quickly than I did," he said. "And you're right — without Knights to teach me, I'll have to take my knowledge piecemeal, taking parts wherever I can find them."

"Then the troops are at your disposal," Kaleesh replied. He refilled their glasses with wine, then added, "But now, I think it's time you give me the bad news."

Arran smiled wryly. Though he'd skirted around the topic for as long as he could, there was no more avoiding it. "I encountered a creature in the Wilderness, near the Desolation," he began. "A Warlock, the Darians call it."

As he recounted his encounter with the Warlock, Kaleesh's expression soon turned grim, and when Arran finished, he let out a loud curse.

"A Blightspawn Archmage?!" the captain snapped. "The Blightspawn have Archmages?! How the hell are we supposed to fight Archmages?" He began another curse, but halfway through, he suddenly fell silent. Then, brow creased in a deep frown, he peered at Arran. "If the Blightspawn have Archmages, how do any of the Darians manage to return from the Desolation?"

"I asked myself that question, as well," Arran said. "And not all the news is bad. Though I cannot be certain, what the two Darian Lords I met said suggested that Blightspawn are somehow weaker in the Desolation — as if the Desolation itself somehow suppresses the creatures."

Kaleesh considered this for a moment, then gave a slow nod. "Has to be," he said in a thoughtful voice. "You've seen the groups here in Knight's Watch. If those peasants and farmhands had to face Archmages fighting at their full strength, the Imperium would have run out of soldiers long ago."

"That's the conclusion I reached, too," Arran agreed. "If Archmages ran wild in the Desolation, this entire conflict would have long since ended." He took a sip from his wine, and cast a curious glance at Kaleesh. "But shouldn't you know more about this? The Rangers in the Wolfsblood Army — surely they've told you about their experiences in the Desolation?"

"If only," Kaleesh replied, his expression turning dour. "I've asked them plenty of questions, but the common soldiers know next to nothing and the Rangers are unwilling to speak of anything I didn't already know. It's strange, really. Not even the outsiders among them are willing to betray even the slightest of the Imperium's secrets."

Though Kaleesh seemed puzzled more than anything, his words caused Arran to feel an instant surge of suspicion. Soldiers were notorious gossips, and Rangers were no different. For even one of them to remain silent was unlikely enough, but for two dozen to do the same — that stretched the limits of credulity.

"None of them said anything?" he asked intently. "Not even a slip of the tongue or a careless word?"

"Nothing," Kaleesh confirmed. "It's as if there's something holding them back. You don't think—?"

Though the captain stopped short of actually saying the word, it was obvious he'd had the same thought as Arran — that there was something more than just laws keeping the Rangers from talking. Magic.

Arran gave a helpless shrug. "I don't know. It's possible."

In truth, he thought it was more than just possible. He'd long wondered how the Imperium managed to keep its secrets so well, and he had already concluded that the tight lock it kept on its borders should not be enough. Over the course of the centuries that the conflict between the Shadowflame Society and the Imperium had lasted, there should have been at least some Darian defectors.

But if the Imperium used some sort of magical bond to ensure the loyalty of its troops — something akin to the oath that bound mages within the Shadowflame Society — then it was a different matter. Then, the Society's ignorance of the Imperium made more sense.

Yet if that was the case, it also meant that Arran faced a problem. If becoming a Ranger required that he be bound in a similar way, merely learning the Darians' secrets was only half the challenge he faced. And the other half — finding a way to break the bond — might well prove the more difficult part.

Worse, with his recent increase in strength, he knew that the moment he was made a Ranger was fast approaching — whether he wanted it or not.

His strength already approached that of a Knight, and it was only a matter of time until some Lord decided that his efforts should be rewarded. And when that reward came, he had no doubt that refusing the honor would not be an option.

As he sat silently in the garden, he considered his options, and quickly found that he liked none of them.

The first choice he had was to flee the Imperium while he still could — to take what knowledge he had gained, and return to the Ninth Valley immediately. Doing so would mean abandoning his hopes of gaining a Lord's power and the bloodlines he hoped to earn in the Desolation, but it was easily the safest choice he had available.

The second option was to hide his strength as best he could — to pretend that he was nothing more than a common soldier and hope that word of his past actions would not find its way to the wrong ears. But then, Arran knew that such a plan would be doomed from the start. He'd already shown far too much of his power to go unnoticed, and any attempts to hide his strength now would merely draw suspicion.

The third option, finally, was to forge ahead on his current path — to seize whatever secrets the Imperium held, and trust that he would overcome the obstacles this path would bring — both known and unknown.

He pondered the question for some time, weighing his options as he sat quietly opposite Kaleesh. Then, finally, he stood up and faced the captain.

"I think it's time you show me this army you've built."

Kaleesh gave him a suspicious glance. "You look like you've just made a decision. Care to tell me what's about to happen?"

A grin crossed Arran's face. "I expect you'll find out soon enough."