ALL NOVEL ==[DEATH BY EXILE]==
>>>[FOR THE BEST VIEWING EXPERIENCE, IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT YOU SWITCH TO ROYAL ROAD'S DARK/OLED BLACK THEME]<<<
===[DEATH BY EXILE]===
==The National Service Of The Empire==
[EYES EVERYWHERE]
>>> Project CASEMATE
>>> Initiator: The National Service of the Empire
>>> Operation Goal: Use field operatives to infiltrate, observe, and collect evidence of the Human military outpost in Canau. Return evidence to the Empire for analysis. Regain the upper hand in the Kiote Crisis. Preserve Avonian Imperial Dignity.
>>> Searching Transcript...
>>> Please standby...
>>> Initializing...
==[Begin Transmission]==
Emeric had been blindfolded. His eyes only seeing dark fabric and the faint gleams of light that sometimes bled through, though that light had become rarer and rarer – only to be completely drowned out by darkness after only a few hours of the journey. His hands were tied around his back. Unbudging. The Warrior Elf savages sure knew how to keep a prisoner tied up, even his ankles had been pressed together. The ropes used to tie him must've been infused by some sort of magic, for Emeric's natural elven senses felt dull and unreachable here. Normally, he was trained to get out of situations like these but the magic suppressant, some sort of curse if anything, was taking its toll on his body. He could feel his touch fading with each passing moment.
His lack of control over his own limbs made his body susceptible to the rocking motion of whatever vehicle he was being transported in. He heard no engine sound, so it was probably being pulled by a horse or griffon. A rumor confirmed true judging by the occasional sound of something large chirping just behind him. As he was being moved back and forth, he could only hear the sound of wheels crushing rock, and of leaves blowing in the dead of night. Wherever they were, it sure was hot as all hell.
Eventually the cart stopped, and Emeric was grabbed by a pair of hands.
“Stand,” A voice commanded, and he wearily obeyed. He had no idea if they planned on killing him or throwing him in prison. He feared torture, but he tried to push that thought out of his brain. It wasn’t like asking the Kiotes what his fate was would be a good idea. Just do whatever they told him to, and hopefully they’d be merciful enough to return him back to Avonia.
Hopefully.
So he stood. It was a bit of a hassle for him to disembark from the cart whilst blindfolded, but the warriors ensured that he hadn’t fallen onto his face by holding a strong grip on Emeric’s shoulders. His feet felt the familiar crunch of fallen leaves and dirt. Soft dirt. Jungle…
Emeric had been a operative in the National Service within the Kiote Peninsula for years. He knew the distinct smell and feel of the tropical forest better than he could remember even his own home. Though most of his work was on suppressing the ULA insurgents across the border in the River Republic, he’d spent countless hours working to spread Imperial influence across the constituents of the Kiote Union. Never before had he been captured… until now. CASEMATE was looking to be a success so far. His team had the images they were looking for, and it all pointed to one thing. Those cursed humans, surprisingly enough, not the ones from Belford. No, these humans were from another planet entirely. They had infiltrated Narva right under the Phoenix's beak, and within days of their arrival they had kickstarted a major war. One that, they surprisingly, were winning. They had done a number so far, managing to sink their claws into these warrior elves quite thoroughly. A shame really. If the Warriors hadn't had their minds corrupted by Belford propaganda, they may have been wonderful allies - provided they were taught the basic manners of Imperial civilization first. But alas, the humans were excellent at the arts of deception, turning elf against elf.
He was walked further by the two warriors. But there was something odd. It was… quiet. Suspiciously quiet. He figured that the two Kitchi warriors were either leading Emeric to be either executed, or to be returned home. Both of which would generate a fair bit of noise. But instead, from what he could tell, they were in the middle of the jungle, alone.
Why?
Answers would continue to elude him when he was stopped and the sack was ripped off of his head. He expected blinding lights, but his eyes struggled to adapt to the darkness. And when they did… he was still confused. Jungle. Jungle everywhere. Tall and bushy palm trees surrounded him, next to an open field of… nothing. Just grass. A few mountains dotted the horizon. The stars were out, twinkling, they plastered a dark sky that had just faded to night. But there was nothing at all familiar about this place. There was no line of gun men or an executioner waiting to have him killed. Nothing at all.
Suddenly, the restraints binding his feet and hands were released, and the leader of the two addressed him directly. Emeric could only stare into the Kitchi warrior mask of the elf as he recited his sentence, “Imperialist… you have been found guilty of crimes against the Warrior Elf people and culture. For this, you will be released… If we capture you again, you will be executed formally.”
Relief came to Emeric almost immediately. So he was going home… until, wait… the two warriors were leaving him behind, “W-wait!” Emeric stopped them, “Do I wait here or-“
The leader shrugged, “You can wait here if you want to. But there’s a hungry pack of Hellhounds nearby, and you reek of fear and sweat – both of which they can smell. I’d suggest moving if you want to live long enough to see the sunrise.”
“But… but where will I go? I don’t know this place,” Emeric protested, “I don’t even have any supplies! If I go out there..." Emeric paused. Right then, it clicked in his mind, "I’ll be dead before morning...” he whispered.
“Yes,” Said the warrior, “We know.”
With that, the two warrior elves turned their back for good, mounting the griffon cart and hastily leaving the area. Emeric thought about begging for his life, but he knew it would not work. He looked to the wilderness around him, dark, strange. He was alone… and he could hear the howl of the hellhounds in the night…
[Thus Always to Imperialists]