Enatic Clans

"Marshal Aisla, General Clyden… good morning." the gátes bows and pays his respect to us - my lieutenant, General Clyden and I.

"Sir Talbetter, it is?"

"Uh, if you will - you can just call me 'Talbetter'. Right, 'Talbetter' is just fine, Marshal. Well, nyes. I am what you are referring to." he smiles then he extends both of his hands for a handshake.

"Sir Talbetter Avante O'Silverpelt de Alcanzantré, is it? Your full name." Clyden reconfirms and receives his handshake, as the gátes nods his head and smiles.

I have heard of this. A custom from Alcanzantré on how they gesture salutations. As our position suggests, in Talbetter's perspective: me on his left side and Clyden on his right counterpart. Hence, Clyden and Talbetter share a handshake with their rights while concurrently I shake with him through lefts of our own. He wastes no time, catering both audiences. In all honesty… convenient, it is. Nontraditional and unorthodox. Very traditional for Alcanzantré, true to their character as a collective community of sea people. Sea people as a fishmongering culture; neither mermaids, nor nagas, not merfolks.

In the known world, we always initiate to the right - regardless of what dominant hand we do. Discrimination? Yes. It is not coming from my mouth - they are all in the accounts of what the holy patriarchs would suggest. At least, all faiths and cultures: Aslab, Croisism, Romulla, Ordos, even our religion, Hrilalal; you name it - left hand is always be and very malice.

"It sounds counterintuitive - herein the feel is just right but both fringes also surface in particular." I think, silently reflecting.

His touch alone is smooth despite being truly furry. The grip is firm, the tinge is silky, the clasp is pretty not too domineering but gentlemanly. Well, it tickles my palm, to speak the least. The gesture undeniably sparks me with this brotherhood. However…

Still, I am in no shape or form to put my army's and mine's confide in him. He's of a feline überleben species - cats are known for being lazy and so I assume gátes would be as lethargic as well. Despite gátes being a higher intelligent sentient equal to humans and elves, this race is still cats - these speaking bipedal cats. Second of all, he's an Inglovian - they are our enemies. Well technically, by declaration both sides are in conflict. But as of now, no blood has spilled so that means he's an ad hoc enemy. Thirdly, as mentioned, Sir Talbetter is a man from the harbors of Alcanzantré. Geographically, Alcanzantré is part of the Inglovian supercontinent and this city is a vassal to the Crown too. I can't dictate what loyalty he entails. Inglovia or Alcanzantré? But this kind of people from the port city are known for opportunism. I need help, post-haste. No need to be selective.

"Clyden. General Clyden. Lieutenant to Marshal Aisla. Executive of the Royal Kehinan Army." Clyden smiles at Talbetter, while the tension of their handshake is rather intense than establishing common grounds.

As Clyden and Talbetter begin to immerse themselves with small chats and petty titters, I am here in-between the sideline while I focus on questioning about this, "I know Clyden and I have talked about this. Last dusk. But my doubt is not about his contribution or skills… is his commitment." as I am trying to follow along with their conversation.

"Got your accolade too in the battle? Nice. I was a phalanx captain and now I have retired for good. Nya~" as Talbetter's tone is starting to get friendly.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Well, we do have some similarities, however. From levy to footman. I was once a batman but after being a frontline soldier most of the time, I got rewarded and became an acting officer. We both got our education in University of Inglovian Occidental - Military Academy to advance to commissioned officer. Graduated, yes. And after a couple of skirmishes and campaigns in the mainland, I decided to continue my career as an officer in this kingdom. And yet and as you know, here I am now being part of Lord Aisla's war advisory diet." Clyden responds. His career alone is astounding, the flair on how he describes is minimal just like what he said to me yesterday.

"Oooo… I know about General Clyden's decorated career, Sir Talbetter…" reconsider my initial impression of him, "You, sir, an ex-captain - acquired your accolade through the battlefield… ?" as he definitely gets my respect.

"Nya~ Oh nyes, Marshal. It has definitely been a long grind since then. Left Alcanzantré. I found my way into the army as a conscript. Saved a village or two. My direct captain was dead, together with his lieutenants - cornets and subalterns. Got promoted via the war council's recommendation plus democratic vote within my maniple. Served the maniple to where I started and led these men of the very same maniple." as he shares pretty much of his excruciating experience of sweat, blood, mud, sickness, and loss. Basically, I am impressed.

It's such a profound encounter having him to our side for now, yet I am still dubious of his alignment. Clyden and him quite sync up pretty well. Emotionally, it's good. But we're talking about national security here. For the second time, this gátes lad is an Inglovian no matter what - he is still suspicious. Retired or not, an Inglovian is an enemy! A dead Inglovian is a good Inglovian. I'm not a cynic but only worry about the kingdom's safety. I promise.

"I'm just a lowly mediocre Marshal. This title is handed to me because I am one of the Queen's consorts. Favoritism is at best." I sheepishly smile, scratching the back of my head.

"I'll apologize in advance," Talbetter says, as he lunges his attack near my face in a quick instance, "Oooo…" then he whistles in a musing tone, whereas I parry his assault.

Sword to sword clash and clattering. I don't know what happened but my hand instinctively unsheathes the sword from my scabbard. For a second, I look at Clyden - it makes me wonder why there are two gátes? Is this his arcane powers? Doubling himself - one against Clyden and another preoccupies me.

I definitely curse him from the bottom of my heart, thinking: "Is this an assassination? I shouldn't have trusted Clyden's referral! Now, we are dead meat because of his incompetence…" on my mind right now.

Drawing his blade two-handedly, while I maintain utilizing my dominant hand for the time being. I still manage to hold his strength at bay. He then throws an in-between left knee while our swords are in a clashing deadlock. I catch his attack once more, using my free hand in a cross motion. I want to utter something on how I could react swiftly despite being busy. For that, the gátes loses his footing.

"You're mine…" I mutter, hefting my sword in high guard.

He readies himself to receive my downward slash, as he stances his on-guard horizontally. His left foot wedges back. In just a second, he does receive the impact but how come his fighting stance is still sturdy? It doesn't make sense! I know I should overmuscle him or at least push him back, auspicious-wise. But that's not the case. Right after the initial encounter, he counterattacks by tripping me on my foot.

"Shit… !" I attempt to fight back, trying to recover my lost ground.

Not only stumbling me is enough, he hits my groin rendering me incapacitated. My breath hitches, as I curl up and I abandon my sword on impulse. Cupping both of my hands to the injured region. As I groan loudly to release the tension of the pain.

"Aren't you ashamed of yourself?!?" I reason out with him, as I try so hard to express my emotion. For me, that's a disgraceful act and ungentlemanly and coward-like.

"Marshal, nya know? This ain't a duel. Nya~ There are no rules, nor 'Begin' that I have heard. Therefore, it's a fair play, Marshal."

"Touché…" I speak gently, as I agree with what he says. This gátes manages to soften us up and we pay the price.

So, this is it, huh? Dying like this. A blunder really screws someone over. I've got complacent. And many have died on misjudgement - well, that's on Clyden though. He got bamboozled, I'm not. Not only will he die as well, he incriminates my ass. He veers my sword on the ground away from my clasp. For his safety. He's skilled. Goodbye Kehina. Goodbye Lady Anda.