Dawn of the Tenth Age Ch 1 - The Man in the Marketplace

General Brennon did not remember the man, and as he made his way deeper into the decrepit alleyway he still couldn’t place him.

The alleyways behind the Sin bazaar were a stark contrast to the bustling marketplace nearby. The only life was the vermin that occasionally moved through the waste left behind by centuries of merchants. Not even the voices and shouts from the market stalls dared venture back here. It was the last place the old human general expected himself to end up.

While he still was uncertain he'd ever seen the man before, there was a desperate honesty in the man's eyes that he could not ignore. The ragged remains of a man claimed to have been in his forces back during the Southern Campaigns, and his mind seemed to still bare the scars of that horrific war. "Please, there is something I must show you," the man had pleaded. Brennon's curiosity must have clouded his caution.

The guards flanking him on four sides clearly did not like this invitation. Their hands remained on their hilts, eyes scanning for anything that could justify leaving this pit. The group pressed through rows of crates and rotted nets, each smelling worse than the next. If this was an ambush, their attackers were indeed taking their time.

"In here." The urchin urged, pushing past the tattered remains of a tapestry. By some twisted humor, the cavern on the other side of the makeshift entry was actually even more disgusting than the alley from which they came. The air was thick and putrid, the walls black with grime and mold. Just walking into the room seemed to contaminate every inch of General Brennon's being. Yet in the middle of the dark and dank space, one object stood out: a basket, looking as clean as those for sale in the street, set with blankets draped over the edges. The tattered man approached slowly, reverently. He peeled back one of the blankets. Even in the dark, the general could see the look that came to the man's face. It was the smile of a weary person at peace.

"Come, general sir." The man beaconed, his shaking hand quickly quivering with excitement. The general, guard on either side, approached the basket and peered inside. From within the basket, two bright blue eyes gazed back. The sparkling gems would have made the stone-cold veteran's heart melt had he not been distracted by the rest of the baby's form. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen. The infant was clearly not a human child, but that was all Brennon could be sure of. The small ears came to a point above his head, placed too high on his skull to be an elf. Its skin was covered in a very light brown fuzz, mouth and nose raised into a slight muzzle. It resembled one of the cat-like Hoomiku of the deserts a world away, but not completely.

"You've brought me here to see… this?" Brennon scoffed. His guards gripped their swords again. "Did you hope to sell me this child?"

"No! Sir, please hear me out." The man said, kneeling in the slime next to the basket. "I served you with honor and without question for fifteen years. I beg of you…" Tears rolled down the man's lined and faded face.

Truth be told, the man might have served under Brennon, but over a million had been under him command by the end of his career. Even if the man had been his finest soldier in all of Tamara they still might never have met, protocol keeping the General from interacting with his men most of the time. Brennon still wasn't sure why, but he motioned for the man to continue.

"Thank you, General sir." He said, taking a breath. "After I left your service, I made my way south towards my old village. I was hoping to return to my wife and daughters. But… But…" The man collapsed into his hands once more. "The Spiral had come through before I arrived. They killed everyone and…" He shivered, sniffing hard as his face grew wet with tears once more. "It was the third village they had razed. They were making their way along the coast. I rushed to the next village to warn them, but they were already preparing their defenses. They… they knew they would not survive the night."

Brennon stood stoic over the man. The otherworldly Spiral were a vicious force that consumed all they came across. From the black expanse of space, they had descended on Rym following the Twilight War when the Creators stood victorious over the gods. Part dark cult, part living plague, they moved like a sandstorm of death, fast and merciless. The only way to outrun the spiral would be for the Spiral to stop chasing you, and even then it seemed that they would always be somehow just on the coattails of your very soul.

"As I was about to board a ship back to the Capital, a woman came up to me. Elven, I think. She carried a baby with her. She didn't tell me where it had come from but I assumed it was hers. She begged me to save the child. Take him someplace safe." His lip quivered. "And I have. The child made it here, and has begun to grow. I've tried, giving the child all I could get my hands on. Stealing and begging and being beaten by guards and thugs, but I can't go on for much longer."

The man lurched forward and grabbed the general's cloak. The guards drew their weapons, but Brennon motioned for them to hold. "Please, General sir." Tears flowed from his red, sunken eyes. "Please save this child. Save it from the horrors of the Spiral or the chains of the slavers. For all the children we could not save, please just save this one! By my oath, please!" The man was a slobbering mess by now, face streaked and shaking, body crumbled at the general's feet.

All sound left the old general's mind. He looked down at the child wrapped in swaddle, eyes peering back with curious warmth. Every moment since Brennon's youth had been spent serving The Decider, first in combat as a soldier, then as a general. Now his time of service was through and he had retired, but now he had nothing to serve. No family to speak of, and nothing other than a legacy he cared little for. All his service, all his conquests, all he had ever known was now just books on a shelf.

"Very well." The General nodded, motioning to his guard to take the basket.

"Just please… before you go." The man whispered from the floor. "Release me." Just speaking the words seemed to make the man feel lighter. "I kept my oath and served you with all the honor I could give. Give me the death I deserve… a soldier's death…"

Another long moment passed, and Brennon took in his breath. The dank cellar air filled his lungs, but his mind was strangely clear. He reached down and pulled up the baby, gently wrapping it in the cloth and handing it to his guard. Brennon then turned to the man, reaching down and lifting him to his knees. He held his hand out over the man's head.

"Soldier of Tamara." He said, voice clear and calm. "In recognition of your service to the Decider and your honorable dedication to the Empire, I hereby release you from your duties and relieve you of all rank and responsibility thereof. I declare you to be a citizen of the Empire once more, and may the smile of the Decider be upon you always."

Brennon let his hand rest on the man's shoulder briefly, a smile crossing the tattered remains of his weary face. He took the baby from his guard, holding the odd child for a moment. Brenna then nodded to his guard. The old general headed out with his escort, save one who remained behind and drew his blade.

The man would be dead before the group re-emerged in the alleyway. Brennon still couldn't recall him.