"Not going to lie my child, you fucked up on more ways than one." He started, the ever stoic Szeulla teared up. For the first time in almost thirty-five years, the Cro-Allar was reduced to tears in her bedroom. He pat her on whatever she had left of a leg, smiling ear to ear like he always use to, the black-steel gauntlet hit her thigh with a thud or two. She found she could not speak, that was funny, why could she not speak? But he continued on further.
"Now you can do two things when you get up from this cursed bed. One, reclaim your glory, command the armies and make me proud. Secondly, you could kill the Yanar, you would have to be smart, but I believe you could pull it off. Or thirdly, leave to Hadar and set up your own digmaan, it is for you to decide." He paused a moment, looking to his daughter who could on stare, he smiled once more and continued. "I think reclaiming you glory would be the best option for you and the Azigiss Clan. Don't piss the Qar-Digmaan off more than you have to or our clan, the clan you spent close to decades restoring, will fall in a footnote on a history book somewhere. Make something of yourself, make yourself a history book tiled The Mighty Undercro Szeulla and make my forty years of dedication to you worth while, understand? I gave you that gauntlet for a reason." He finished, Szeulla simply shook her head. How could she do anything? She was in a reduced state, close to everyone hated her, and she only had a Keel and a Zu to depend on."I see your problem my child, worry not I have the antidote. You need reminded, you forget what you have done and are instead focusing on what you have failed to do. Let's take a trip down memory lane, don't you think?" He said with a smile, taking off the gauntlet and fixing it on her hand, she had not noticed the gauntlet from her hand had been missing, but now she regained it. Suddenly, a flash of bright lights and colors appeared in her eyes, soon clearing into an outright battlefield.
A thirty odd year old Cro-Szeulla walkes up to the front of the battle line, Ssuilaz somewhere at the back commanding the main line of Jogro. She looked around to the Sa-Allar around her, she had been the only one to train them into a formative line where she could command with ease. Their armor flecked with blood, the men tired and hungry, and the enemy appearing ever closer on the horizon. The Azigiss fort stand tall and proud behind them, some of the more curious citizen came out to inspect closer on the ensuing battle. This would be the defining fight for the entire short war they were having with a rival clan, they must drive them back before the fort fell. The enemy got closer, closer still by the second. Suddenly, a large, imposing roar came from the thirty year old Cro, her Sa-Allar shock force charged the field in all of it's glory, war cries heard for miles. The mainly Mu-Allar enemy line stared in horror at the strong shock force of troops charging, some shit themselves and others simply ran further behind the ranks. They clashed, Szeulla slamming her bare fists in whatever got close enough to hit, her commanding voice was blurred as the scene changed. Szeulla stood at the head of her army with the Rhax and the Digmaan, kicking the decapitated head of the other Cro to them with loud cheers.
Another showed of her diplomatic presence, going all the way to the capital a few years before the Chrysant, again, an older thirty-year old Szeulla accompanied her Digmaan there. She saw the Queen and her Cro-Allar council, Szeulla gave a small speech on the importance of front-line commandment. She was heard but it was futile in the end. It got them thinking though for Sendras, the fact she was even allowed to talk was a feat in itself, though she kept her cool the entire time. She commented on things she agreed with and challenged those she didn't with skill. This was a memory she had long forgotten, smiling at those good old days when it was just her and her Digmaan.
Next was a scene of her trudging through the thick jungles of Hadar, finally coming upon a small lake to set up camp and hunt game. However, she slathered the Mu-Allar's feathers with mud to darken them, telling them to go over to the forests and hide, waiting for any ailor to pass. She herself dove into the lake itself and waited close to the opposite bank. Surely enough, a mercenary detachment found it's way to the lake, the jibber jabber of Common rang in their ears as they stayed completely silent. Suddenly, one of them looked down into the lake, only to see a wolfish smile coming from a bright orange allar, a smile ready for revenge. She jumped out and grabbed the Ailor, screams of surprise coming from his friends as she pulled him to the bottom. The Mu-Allar then came out to aid Szeulla drag the rest of them down to the depths, their armor holding them down. This was the beginning of the Chrysant War, the beginning of when Szeulla became a true leader of those around her. She bore her black-steel gauntlet with a mind of revenge and hatred to the Ailor, something she would harbor for years later. She walked back to the tent, taking a bite out of a juicy piece of deer.
Then she woke up. It had been a dream, she searched frantically for Ssuilaz, but to know avail. She realized it was a dream and groaned loud, punching the bag right off it's screws and into the wall. She looked at her hand in suprise, her muscles were tensed, not weak like they had been for the last couple of days. She also noticed her gauntlet was strangely polished, the name Ssuilaz gleaming out to her in that moment. She realized what she had to do, a confident smile appearing on her lips.
@Ceilidhe
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