After tidying the mess that was the inside of our wagon after our speedy dash yesterday, we departed the small village. The weather was bright, with blue skies for as far as the eye could see. Charly was talkative for the first time in days. Unfortunately, both Donte and I were too embarrassed to chatter much, leading to more than a bit of teasing from Charly.
Maybe only I was embarrassed. Based on the looks Donte kept giving my father, I think he was more scared than anything. Tonight’s training would probably be brutal for him and he knew it. The few times I heard my father mutter under his breath about raising a wolf in his home confirmed it.
I pitied Donte slightly, but there was nothing I could do for him. If I spoke on his behalf, I had no doubt that would only make things worse.
After some time traveling uncomfortably, I decided to distract everyone by telling stories of some memorable moments in my past. After four hundred years I had more than a few epic tales and hilarious mistakes.
“What are the Five Calamities like?” Charly asked curiously after a few of the more interesting yarns. “The records all paint them as monsters, but your stories do not seem to match that.”
“Do you want the truth or the propaganda?” I asked.
“The truth.” Everyone agreed.
“I do not think I have ever tried describing them honestly. Despite our reputation, if I was to sum us up in one word, I think… ‘misfits’ would be the most accurate,” I mused thoughtfully, “Our leader is Azreal. His moniker is the Death Calamity, though he prefers to be called the Void Calamity. He is the strongest out of all of us by a large margin. His innate talent is absolutely terrifying beyond reason, and even he cannot control it at times. It is mostly due to him alone that we are called Calamities. If you want to wipe everything out, leaving nothing behind, he is the one you call. Subtlety has never been his strong suit.”
“Is he really that terrifying?” Charly asked in awe.
“When we can get him to act, yes. Honestly though, unless it is an emergency, he never does anything. If you let him, he will sleep the entire day away without a care in the world. He is unmotivated, lazy, and will start slacking off the moment you take your eyes off him.”
“How does someone like that lead an army?” My father asked.
“He doesn’t,” I replied, “He is only the leader of the Thirteenth division on paper due to his strength. The one who truly keeps everything working is his wife Kora, the Blade Calamity. She is the only member of the five calamities besides myself that can be called normal.”
“Normal? You? That is pushing the definition, isn’t it?” Charly remarked with a grin.
Ignoring Charly with a scowl, I continued. “Even then, she is absolutely obsessed with swordsmanship. It is all she really cares about. She was even publicly declared as one of the top Swordsmen in the Thirteen Divisions. Considering the other two are a division leader and a former king of Tressa it is an amazing accomplishment. Next is Samson, the Brute Calamity. As his name suggests he is a giant lumbering oaf who only cares for combat. That does not mean he is stupid though. Samson is one of the best battlefield strategists I have ever seen. He is a genius in the art of war, capable of predicting what the enemy will do before they even know they are going to do it. Just… do not ask him about anything outside his specialty. He is a complete idiot about everything that does not involve fighting. He is completely incapable of even the most menial tasks, and whatever you do, never ever accept anything he cooks. He keeps trying to learn and every time we end up with food poisoning.”
I shuddered, remembering the horrible experiences. If it was not for his excellence in strategy, I would have tried to get him kicked out of the Five Calamities years ago. Unfortunately, he was also Azreal’s oldest friend. Though, why he put up with his idiocy, I will never understand.
“Then there is Esther,” I said, pausing with a frown, “Officially she is known as the Creation Calamity, but I prefer calling her the Deranged Calamity. She is a brilliant inventor, capable of doing things no one ever thought possible, and absolutely, completely, stark raving mad. Nine times out of ten, when you hear about the Five Calamities causing an incident, it started when she blew something up. She was even kicked out of the first division before Azreal found her. While she can be useful at times, more often than not she is nothing more than a liability.”
“You do not seem to like her very much.” My mother commented.
“Of course not!” I yelled in outrage. “One time she spent the better part of a year rigging stink bombs throughout the Thirteenth Division’s central command. More than half of which were centered around my room. She always had it out for me ever since I joined. Never gave me a single day of peace. I would strangle her if I did not think her neck was laced with more explosives.”
Charly was laughing, earning him a glare from me.
“The Five Calamities certainly seem…” My mother hesitated, trying to find the right word.
“Crazy.” Charly finished. “Insane. Unfit for commanding one of the Thirteen greatest armies in history. Seriously, how did a group like that ever create their own division?”
“Power,” I replied, “If you are strong enough, people will flock to your side regardless of any command defects you might have. More importantly, we were aware of our deficits. We put competent commanders in charge that compensated for what we were lacking.”
“What was your role in the Five Calamities?” My father asked.
“Scouting mostly. My innate talent allows for instantaneous transfer of information across millions of eyes, allowing us to react to the enemy in real-time regardless of circumstances. Of course, my undead are also excellent front line meat shields and were usually used as such when large battles took place.”
“I wish we could have had something like that while serving General Arthur.” My father mused.
“What is General Arthur like?” I asked, “you two always talk about him, but I know nothing about him.”
My mother replied first. “General Arthur is a brilliant man. Though you would not know it when you first meet him. He comes from an island nation in the northwest so his heavy accent surprises a lot of people the first time they meet him. Despite migrating from a foreign country, and starting near the bottom, the general was quickly promoted up the ranks due to his numerous victories in battle. He is actually a Duke now and holds massive influence in the Novus Kingdom. Some say he is second only to the king.”
“Your mother and I followed him since we were squires. We were there for each and every one of his victories. Let me tell you, there were more than a few times I did not think we would win, but somehow we always managed to pull through,” My father spoke, “I will always remember on battle early in the general's career. It was the battle of Asey River. The enemy outnumbered us five to one. They positioned themselves in a fjord and the only way to engage would be a suicidal attempt to cross the river. The enemy and allies both expected a long, drawn-out battle of attrition, but not general Arthur. He had discovered a crossing point on the river further upstream, and without hesitating led the entire light infantry to battle. While the enemy was focused on the main army setting up battlements on the other side of the river, we had already circled behind the enemy catching them off guard. It was still a bloody battle, and we were heavily outnumbered, but our victory at Asey river completely demolished enemy morale. We won the war less than two months later in one of the biggest expansions of Novus territory since the kingdom’s creation.”
“That is not even General Arthur’s most famous victory, but for us, it has always been the most impressive,” My mother said, “General Arthur was always willing to take risks others would deem too dangerous. He would often use the enemy’s arrogance against them. When the enemy feels they are safe, that is when he attacks. When the enemy thinks he will retreat, that is when he leads a full-scale assault. When they try to bunker down, he makes their fortifications useless. That is the type of general he is.”
“I would love to meet him,” I said thoughtfully.
“You may get that chance sooner rather than later.” My father replied. “After the general became duke, he was given the entire territory bordering the Kala Kingdom. While we can pass his territory without entering it, I would prefer if we stopped there and spoke to him in person. I have been keeping him informed through letters of everything that has been happening, but only so much can be conveyed through written words. A small detour to his lands would be well worth our time.”
My mother nodded in agreement as the wagon continued to rumble forward. For the rest of the day, we continued to tell stories. Even Charly and Donte got to tell their share. Charly knew a great many stories that the church told about the Thirteen divisions, while Donte’s stories were simpler. He did not know and grand tales of war and conquest, but he knew a great many folk tales and tavern jokes that made everyone laugh. For hours, Donte’s stories ended up being the most popular.
My father found a riverbank for us to set up camp for the night. This time, we had no major incidents. I was starting to think I was cursed. Everywhere I went disaster struck. I wished more than ever that I had my army of undead to deal with all it, but it was not to be. Despite my daily training, I could still only command nine more undead with my current strength. I wanted to save those nine places for something special. The body of a Demonkin would be ideal. They were incredibly powerful and only became stronger once I took control of them.
I could have used the Demonkin we killed in the last village, but current circumstances made that impractical. With us traveling halfway across the continent for the next few weeks, it would be impossible for undead Demonkin to follow us without causing a panic wherever we went. It was best to wait. Once we had a more permanent base, I could start raising as many undead as I wanted without causing a witch hunt.
Taking the opportunity while we were camped near the river, we each took turns bathing. I made sure to have Sylvie and Nox keep watch in case a certain peeping tom made another suicidal attempt.
Despite how nice it was, the one downside of our little wagon was the complete lack of privacy. It was designed for sleeping and keeping the weather off you during your travels, but the small cramped space was claustrophobic at times. I was fortunate to be completely knocked out last night, but just the snoring from five people in the tiny cabin would probably drive me crazy.
After enjoying the peace and quiet from a long bath, I rejoined my family. My mother was hanging wet clothes she took with her to wash in the river. Donte and Charly were gathering kindling, and my father was feeding wood into the small furnace inside the wagon.
The wood began to burn and smoke puffed out of the small pipe at the top of the wagon. My father leaned back with a sigh as he watched the flickering flames.
I sat down next to him, laying my head on his arm. I closed my eyes as the soothing light of the fire and his warmth comforted me. My dad placed a hand on my shoulder as the two of us cuddled next to the fire. The moment reminded me of when I was little. My dad would hold me tight when I was sick, never letting go until I fell asleep.
My eyes grew heavy as the two of us sat in silence. I felt safe in his arms as the world faded away. I sat with my dad until I fell asleep. The crackle of the wood and the chirping of insects echoed in the night.
Special questionnaire for the readers.
One day, I want to write a book for each of the five calamities. Tell me who your favorite is in the comments down below.
After tidying the mess that was the inside of our wagon after our speedy dash yesterday, we departed the small village. The weather was bright, with blue skies for as far as the eye could see. Charly was talkative for the first time in days. Unfortunately, both Donte and I were too embarrassed to chatter much, leading to more than a bit of teasing from Charly.
Maybe only I was embarrassed. Based on the looks Donte kept giving my father, I think he was more scared than anything. Tonight’s training would probably be brutal for him and he knew it. The few times I heard my father mutter under his breath about raising a wolf in his home confirmed it.
I pitied Donte slightly, but there was nothing I could do for him. If I spoke on his behalf, I had no doubt that would only make things worse.
After some time traveling uncomfortably, I decided to distract everyone by telling stories of some memorable moments in my past. After four hundred years I had more than a few epic tales and hilarious mistakes.
“What are the Five Calamities like?” Charly asked curiously after a few of the more interesting yarns. “The records all paint them as monsters, but your stories do not seem to match that.”
“Do you want the truth or the propaganda?” I asked.
“The truth.” Everyone agreed.
“I do not think I have ever tried describing them honestly. Despite our reputation, if I was to sum us up in one word, I think… ‘misfits’ would be the most accurate,” I mused thoughtfully, “Our leader is Azreal. His moniker is the Death Calamity, though he prefers to be called the Void Calamity. He is the strongest out of all of us by a large margin. His innate talent is absolutely terrifying beyond reason, and even he cannot control it at times. It is mostly due to him alone that we are called Calamities. If you want to wipe everything out, leaving nothing behind, he is the one you call. Subtlety has never been his strong suit.”
“Is he really that terrifying?” Charly asked in awe.
“When we can get him to act, yes. Honestly though, unless it is an emergency, he never does anything. If you let him, he will sleep the entire day away without a care in the world. He is unmotivated, lazy, and will start slacking off the moment you take your eyes off him.”
“How does someone like that lead an army?” My father asked.
“He doesn’t,” I replied, “He is only the leader of the Thirteenth division on paper due to his strength. The one who truly keeps everything working is his wife Kora, the Blade Calamity. She is the only member of the five calamities besides myself that can be called normal.”
“Normal? You? That is pushing the definition, isn’t it?” Charly remarked with a grin.
Ignoring Charly with a scowl, I continued. “Even then, she is absolutely obsessed with swordsmanship. It is all she really cares about. She was even publicly declared as one of the top Swordsmen in the Thirteen Divisions. Considering the other two are a division leader and a former king of Tressa it is an amazing accomplishment. Next is Samson, the Brute Calamity. As his name suggests he is a giant lumbering oaf who only cares for combat. That does not mean he is stupid though. Samson is one of the best battlefield strategists I have ever seen. He is a genius in the art of war, capable of predicting what the enemy will do before they even know they are going to do it. Just… do not ask him about anything outside his specialty. He is a complete idiot about everything that does not involve fighting. He is completely incapable of even the most menial tasks, and whatever you do, never ever accept anything he cooks. He keeps trying to learn and every time we end up with food poisoning.”
I shuddered, remembering the horrible experiences. If it was not for his excellence in strategy, I would have tried to get him kicked out of the Five Calamities years ago. Unfortunately, he was also Azreal’s oldest friend. Though, why he put up with his idiocy, I will never understand.
“Then there is Esther,” I said, pausing with a frown, “Officially she is known as the Creation Calamity, but I prefer calling her the Deranged Calamity. She is a brilliant inventor, capable of doing things no one ever thought possible, and absolutely, completely, stark raving mad. Nine times out of ten, when you hear about the Five Calamities causing an incident, it started when she blew something up. She was even kicked out of the first division before Azreal found her. While she can be useful at times, more often than not she is nothing more than a liability.”
“You do not seem to like her very much.” My mother commented.
“Of course not!” I yelled in outrage. “One time she spent the better part of a year rigging stink bombs throughout the Thirteenth Division’s central command. More than half of which were centered around my room. She always had it out for me ever since I joined. Never gave me a single day of peace. I would strangle her if I did not think her neck was laced with more explosives.”
Charly was laughing, earning him a glare from me.
“The Five Calamities certainly seem…” My mother hesitated, trying to find the right word.
“Crazy.” Charly finished. “Insane. Unfit for commanding one of the Thirteen greatest armies in history. Seriously, how did a group like that ever create their own division?”
“Power,” I replied, “If you are strong enough, people will flock to your side regardless of any command defects you might have. More importantly, we were aware of our deficits. We put competent commanders in charge that compensated for what we were lacking.”
“What was your role in the Five Calamities?” My father asked.
“Scouting mostly. My innate talent allows for instantaneous transfer of information across millions of eyes, allowing us to react to the enemy in real-time regardless of circumstances. Of course, my undead are also excellent front line meat shields and were usually used as such when large battles took place.”
“I wish we could have had something like that while serving General Arthur.” My father mused.
“What is General Arthur like?” I asked, “you two always talk about him, but I know nothing about him.”
My mother replied first. “General Arthur is a brilliant man. Though you would not know it when you first meet him. He comes from an island nation in the northwest so his heavy accent surprises a lot of people the first time they meet him. Despite migrating from a foreign country, and starting near the bottom, the general was quickly promoted up the ranks due to his numerous victories in battle. He is actually a Duke now and holds massive influence in the Novus Kingdom. Some say he is second only to the king.”
“Your mother and I followed him since we were squires. We were there for each and every one of his victories. Let me tell you, there were more than a few times I did not think we would win, but somehow we always managed to pull through,” My father spoke, “I will always remember on battle early in the general's career. It was the battle of Asey River. The enemy outnumbered us five to one. They positioned themselves in a fjord and the only way to engage would be a suicidal attempt to cross the river. The enemy and allies both expected a long, drawn-out battle of attrition, but not general Arthur. He had discovered a crossing point on the river further upstream, and without hesitating led the entire light infantry to battle. While the enemy was focused on the main army setting up battlements on the other side of the river, we had already circled behind the enemy catching them off guard. It was still a bloody battle, and we were heavily outnumbered, but our victory at Asey river completely demolished enemy morale. We won the war less than two months later in one of the biggest expansions of Novus territory since the kingdom’s creation.”
“That is not even General Arthur’s most famous victory, but for us, it has always been the most impressive,” My mother said, “General Arthur was always willing to take risks others would deem too dangerous. He would often use the enemy’s arrogance against them. When the enemy feels they are safe, that is when he attacks. When the enemy thinks he will retreat, that is when he leads a full-scale assault. When they try to bunker down, he makes their fortifications useless. That is the type of general he is.”
“I would love to meet him,” I said thoughtfully.
“You may get that chance sooner rather than later.” My father replied. “After the general became duke, he was given the entire territory bordering the Kala Kingdom. While we can pass his territory without entering it, I would prefer if we stopped there and spoke to him in person. I have been keeping him informed through letters of everything that has been happening, but only so much can be conveyed through written words. A small detour to his lands would be well worth our time.”
My mother nodded in agreement as the wagon continued to rumble forward. For the rest of the day, we continued to tell stories. Even Charly and Donte got to tell their share. Charly knew a great many stories that the church told about the Thirteen divisions, while Donte’s stories were simpler. He did not know and grand tales of war and conquest, but he knew a great many folk tales and tavern jokes that made everyone laugh. For hours, Donte’s stories ended up being the most popular.
My father found a riverbank for us to set up camp for the night. This time, we had no major incidents. I was starting to think I was cursed. Everywhere I went disaster struck. I wished more than ever that I had my army of undead to deal with all it, but it was not to be. Despite my daily training, I could still only command nine more undead with my current strength. I wanted to save those nine places for something special. The body of a Demonkin would be ideal. They were incredibly powerful and only became stronger once I took control of them.
I could have used the Demonkin we killed in the last village, but current circumstances made that impractical. With us traveling halfway across the continent for the next few weeks, it would be impossible for undead Demonkin to follow us without causing a panic wherever we went. It was best to wait. Once we had a more permanent base, I could start raising as many undead as I wanted without causing a witch hunt.
Taking the opportunity while we were camped near the river, we each took turns bathing. I made sure to have Sylvie and Nox keep watch in case a certain peeping tom made another suicidal attempt.
Despite how nice it was, the one downside of our little wagon was the complete lack of privacy. It was designed for sleeping and keeping the weather off you during your travels, but the small cramped space was claustrophobic at times. I was fortunate to be completely knocked out last night, but just the snoring from five people in the tiny cabin would probably drive me crazy.
After enjoying the peace and quiet from a long bath, I rejoined my family. My mother was hanging wet clothes she took with her to wash in the river. Donte and Charly were gathering kindling, and my father was feeding wood into the small furnace inside the wagon.
The wood began to burn and smoke puffed out of the small pipe at the top of the wagon. My father leaned back with a sigh as he watched the flickering flames.
I sat down next to him, laying my head on his arm. I closed my eyes as the soothing light of the fire and his warmth comforted me. My dad placed a hand on my shoulder as the two of us cuddled next to the fire. The moment reminded me of when I was little. My dad would hold me tight when I was sick, never letting go until I fell asleep.
My eyes grew heavy as the two of us sat in silence. I felt safe in his arms as the world faded away. I sat with my dad until I fell asleep. The crackle of the wood and the chirping of insects echoed in the night.
Special questionnaire for the readers.
One day, I want to write a book for each of the five calamities. Tell me who your favorite is in the comments down below.
