#i dont think they'd have ranks during this era but if they did itd be Solus tol Galvus

[ectojyunk]

Prompt #17 Sally

Pre-ARR. A lil piece about Young Solus.

"Sir, we are running low on rations."

The pilus waited for orders from the tribunus sat before him. Winter was approaching for northern Ilsabard- the weather would soon be exceedingly cold and what little crop season Garlemald had was already over. The tribunus however, didn't seem concerned in the slightest. "Then we will change course and replenish them after moving through the valley in the southeast. Dismissed," he responded without taking his eyes off his papers.

The pilus blinked, "But sir… though it would be faster, that is enemy territory. And moving through the bottom of the valley would make us prime targets for an ambush-"

The tribunus interrupted him, "Do you want our men to starve instead?" he said sternly, "We are proficient enough to swiftly move through that passage; we have our skills and tools at our disposal."

Ah yes, the sound detectors. The pilus nodded, he was still wary of the change of plans but his superior in this squadron was Solus Galvus. The outstanding young commander who had risen through the ranks in an unthinkable short amount of time thanks to his talents in warfare strategies and clever mechanical innovations.

"… Do we have enough in storage for borscht still?" Solus asked, his previous stern exterior replaced with a more casual one.

"We should have enough for a round tonight… sir."

"Good, tell the men to get the stew going- I will keep watch outside the main exit."

The pilus saluted and left the premises.

Emet-Selch pondered the condition of the weather outside before sighing and stepping out of his tent. There was light snowfall already, and the night would only get colder. He pulled his ushanka tight and lifted his snow mask up to cover his face.

He shooed the standing guard away, who stammered at the notion of their tribunus wanting to take their place for mere guard duty. Alas, Solus was the more stubborn one and the soldier relented after a while. He wasn't doing this out of the kindness of his heart, mind you, it was to secretly scout any enemies up ahead with his special sight. His squad did not know of this of course, Emet-Selch's Ascian abilities were expertly concealed, he had even learnt to bleed like a mortal again.

After what seemed like an hour, the broth's rich smell reached his nose. He returned to the main tent- no need to switch guards, there was no one out there in these blasted icy wastelands.

He lifted the flap to the tent and was immediately greeted with a warm bowl of borscht- and a warmer welcome. He huffed, unable to hide the slight smile creeping up on his lips, and took the bowl. He knew the other tribuni would not sit down with their men and share meals- but if Solus was to rise further, he would have to be different. He would have to be adored and feared alike, Emet-Selch would make sure of that.

He remembered to smile warmly as one soldier, an old friend of Solus, patted him on the back. "I heard we sally forth southward tomorrow?" he asked.

Solus nodded and explained his reasoning to the man, making sure to pull on Solus' memory from time to time to remain inconspicous. It had been only 3 years since his possession- the first years of pretend were always the most tedious ones.

The soldier nodded but didn't seem completely taken by the idea, "If all is as you say, it will be fine I'm sure… but it's…"

Emet-Selch searched for Solus's friendly voice, ah- there it was. "What is it, my friend?"

"Ah it's nothing. You'd usually take the more cautious route- ah but don't mind me. Everyone agrees that your plan is the most optimal one right now."

"I have taken the necessary precautions already- I would not recklessly lead my men- my friends, into danger," he took a spoonful of the soup to his mouth. "On that, you can trust me."

The soldier and the ones who overheard the conversation displayed expressions of slight relief. Good. By believing in their charismatic leader, they would follow Solus Galvus everywhere, no matter the perils. And slowly... they'd support him even against their own countrymen, if it came to it. Lastly, if he needed fodder… well, the notion of willingly becoming martyrs for their country would soon be a believable prospect for his zealous countrymen.

But he shouldn't entertain thoughts of discarding his pawns yet, he had so few after all.

He looked around the tent, his eyes wandering from little details on the tent fabrics to the motions of his countrymen's boisterous jokes around the table. He silently took in the atmosphere of camaraderie, and pinned it in an important place in Solus's mind.

Ah… the first squad on the stepping stones to the armies of an empire… they usually always die before they see the nation that'd be built with their catalytic support.

But, for now, he would huddle with them in their little tent, enjoying the hearth and merriment while building their bonds to be unbreakable chains. Chains that would likely be soon covered in the blood of the fallen. Yes. For now, Solus would enjoy the warmth, before the bitter, bitter cold.