The tireless castle walls were strong, study. Vahn felt the stone bricks against his back, and he knew they were unshakable. He knew in his soul, beneath everything. The dragoon castle would never fall, it could not fall. It was the only thing holding the lands together.

Vahn commanded the army. They fell to his orders. And even so, he believed, that meant he should have temperance, some residual moment of peace which allowed him to reason with not only himself, but those outside, those beings who captured the moments of perception.

General Braak was no pushover. Taken as his army collapsed beneath him, five dragoons had to hold him down as he was captured. He was not taken easily. Vahn had Terius as proof of that. Terius had been a good soldier, but during the night, Braak strangled him with a tent cord, and took off into the night. It took seven dragoons at full speed to bring General Braak down. He had killed three men.

Vahn knew Terius from childhood. They had both gone to the same school, and grown up during the war.

But Braak was there now, in his cell, and he never did give up. You had to give it to the man. He was like a dog chained, who never stopped fighting.

"Shut up," Vahn said.

But the general would not. Vahn had been standing in this cell for hours, watching the general, waiting until he would break. But Vahn felt as if he would break.

Dragoon Darius was standing next to the stairs. He wore the armor of a fledging combat officer, the hard, black armor, colored like ash. His face wore the same grim visage. He had that same sort of temperance as General Braak did, although he did not wear it out of honor. He wore it out of a self-controlled pride in himself, in his abilities, in his mind and his strength.

"You will be executed tomorrow, you dog," Darius said as he strolled over to the general's cell. "I will have that honor of doing so."

Vahn stared open-mouthed at Darius. There was no execution scheduled. The residing king, the dragoon general Adder, would have never ordered such a thing. Yet he could not ploy this down, and risk losing face and command in front of their most high-ranked prisoner.

"Darius, stand down! You are not to speak of such things to him," Vahn said, stepping towards Darius and staring him down.

Darius laughed, as if he expected his gesture to call down Vahn.

"Darius!" A dragoon appeared at the stairs, his face flush. "Step away from the cell!" That was Hans, third in command of the dragoons, second to Vahn.

"Or what?" sneered Darius. "Oh, right, so the two of you haven't taught this prisoner his place yet, so you leave it up to other, lower-ranked dragoons to do the job for you."

"You could never understand, Darius," Hans said. "That would require honor."

Darius rushed at Hans with a blinding speed that surprised even Vahn, and sent Hans crashing into the wall.

"I have more honor than you'll ever have!" Darius howled. He gripped his hands into fists, the leather of his gloves cracking under his grip. Darius kicked Hans in the stomach, and then angrily stomped up the stairs of the castle. His footsteps could be heard as Vahn came up to Hans.

"Are you all right?" Vahn asked.

Hans, with some pain, pushed himself against the wall, and sat right-side up.

"Yes," Hans grimaced. "I should not have said that. That boy has more pride than anyone I know. It was a mistake to call him down."

"You are above rank! He must learn his place," Vahn replied calmly, helping Hans up to his feet.

"No matter," Hans replied. "General Adder wanted to speak with you, Vahn. He said it was important, so I came down here right away."

Vahn nodded. General Adder hadn't called upon him much since the dragoon force had occupied the kingdom of Branch and taken the castle. They had managed to stop the war, but in the stead, were left with the management of a simple country, and as most of Branch were small merchants and farmers, hadn't really needed to exercise physical force yet. Vahn was the leader of the military, and mostly, save for a few scuffles, hadn't been forced to draw the sword yet. Soldiers like Darius were the affects of that, not having much to do, and feeling the need to find excitement or blood elsewhere.

"You get that looked at," Vahn said. "I'll make sure Darius knows his place."