Chapter 73: The Bonds of Command
The days following the grand reorganization of the Black Dragon Corps settled into a new rhythm, a hum of preparation and adjustment. While the divisions began the process of mobilizing and integrating, Tatsuo took a rare evening to simply exist within the walls of his castle, the weight of command momentarily eased by the presence of his family.
In their private quarters, Ahtris gently rocked the cradle where five-month-old Zaltaron slept soundly. Tatsuo sat opposite her, reviewing a final summary of the troop dispositions.
"Three Divisions," Ahtris murmured, her gaze soft as she looked at their son, then sharp as she turned to Tatsuo. "Rota leading the spearhead north, Valerius guarding our flank here, and Ragnar watching the forest. It's a sound strategy, husband, leveraging each man's strengths."
Tatsuo nodded, appreciating her grasp of the situation. "Rota's loyalty is best placed at the forefront of the campaign. Valerius understands the politics and defense needed for the heart of our domain. And Ragnar... his strength, combined with Kael's command of the Hobgoblins, is precisely what's needed for the unpredictable southern border."
"It places great trust in men who were once our enemies," Ahtris observed quietly, referring to Valerius and Kael.
"Trust must be earned, and also given, to be solidified," Tatsuo replied. "They have served well since pledging loyalty. Binding them closer with greater responsibility is the surest path." He looked towards the cradle. "We build not just an army, Ahtris, but a future for him. That requires stability within." Ahtris met his gaze, a shared understanding passing between them – the weight of leadership balanced by the simple, profound reality of their sleeping son.
Northward, near the designated site for the new border town, the command tent of the 1st Flame Division was a hive of activity. Maps lay strewn across tables, scout reports piled high. Chief Vanguard General Rota Uno stood studying the terrain markings, his brow furrowed. Sir Reeldos Umbra, his 1st Class Clash Commander and second-in-command, approached with a fresh dispatch.
"The latest reports from Sir Ehdeec's scouts, Vanguard General," Reeldos stated formally, handing over the scroll. "Confirmation of Greenvein border patrols, lightly manned watchtowers at these locations."
Rota took the scroll, his eyes quickly scanning the details. "Good. Their initial posture is defensive, as expected." He looked at Reeldos. "Your Drake Battalions are ready for reconnaissance-in-force?"
"Sir Edald and Sir Rudy report full readiness," Reeldos confirmed. "Their orders are to probe, not engage decisively unless cornered. Their speed is key."
"Excellent." Rota clapped Reeldos lightly on the shoulder plate, a gesture of camaraderie bridging the gap between their ranks. "Your planning is meticulous as always, Reeldos. It gives me confidence."
Reeldos offered a rare, thin smile. "And your decisive command ensures those plans are executed effectively, sir. We make a good team." Though Reeldos was now technically subordinate, their shared history and mutual respect formed a solid foundation for the division's command.
In Ifelon Town, Junior Vanguard General Ragnar Sternguard found himself juggling duties. He had chosen the Elven town as his headquarters, a decision influenced as much by strategic placement near the forest border as by the presence of Elder Kaylessa Balren. In a quiet grove near their shared residence, Kaylessa watched as Ragnar awkwardly tried to soothe one of their twin sons, Gordian, who was fussing. Glacian, the other twin, observed silently from Kaylessa's arms. The boys, now over a year old, were a striking mix of their parents' heritage.
"He has your lungs, I think," Kaylessa teased gently, her emerald eyes sparkling as Ragnar struggled.
Ragnar grumbled good-naturedly, his massive hands surprisingly gentle as he cradled Gordian. "He just misses his mother." He looked at Kaylessa, his expression softening. "How fares the town? And the patrols?"
"The patrols report quiet along the border, husband," Kaylessa answered, her tone becoming more serious. "Kael Elmsworth arrived yesterday and has already begun coordinating the Hobgoblin deployments with your commanders. He seems... capable, though driven."
"He is," Ragnar agreed. "Tatsuo trusts him." He sighed, looking from his son to the dense woods bordering Ifelon. "It is strange. Commanding thousands, watching this dark forest... yet holding him," he looked down at Gordian, "feels like the greater weight sometimes."
Kaylessa reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "You carry both well, Ragnar. You protect this family, this town, and the Vanguard General's domain. We are proud." Ragnar met her gaze, finding strength in her serene confidence.
Back in Dragonsden Castle, Lady Anya Stillfire moved with practiced efficiency. One moment, she was conferring with Tatsuo in his office, relaying messages and organizing his schedule as his Personal Aide; the next, she was in the Prince Guard's barracks, reviewing training reports with 1st Class Rare Commander Valerius Thorne.
"The Wyverns require specialized drills, Commander Thorne," Anya stated, her 1st Class Clash Commander rank subtly underpinning her authority despite Thorne's seniority in age and experience with the beasts. "Their integration with ground support needs refinement."
"Understood, Lady Stillfire," Thorne replied respectfully. Leading the original ten Wyvern Knights was his primary duty, but he recognized Anya's position as overall commander of the Prince Guard unit they now belonged to. "We will begin coordinated exercises tomorrow."
Later, alone in her own office, Anya allowed herself a brief moment. She touched the simple noble crest – the 'Stillfire' sigil – now subtly incorporated into her uniform. Clash Commander. Personal Aide. Lady. The titles felt heavy, yet earned. She drew her practice sword, the movements fluid and precise, a reminder that behind the administrator and aide, the warrior remained, ready to serve her lord in any capacity required.
As night fell over Dragonsden County, Tatsuo stood on his balcony, watching the city lights. The pieces were moving, his commanders taking their places, his family growing. The path ahead, starting with Greenvein, was fraught with danger, but looking out over his domain, he felt the strength not just of his twenty-one thousand soldiers, but of the bonds connecting them all – loyalty, duty, family, and a shared hope for the future they were building. The Black Dragon Corps was more than just an army; it was a living entity, and its heart beat strong.