Waiting for the Spark

The rudimentary braziers burned at the setting of the sun, blazing in brass pans propped up upon wooden stands around the encampment. Back in the capital, the early spring flowers would be blossoming by now but it felt like nothing could warm up the chilly northern borders. Despite the military budget being approved at an appropriate time this year, despite having armour that was suitably padded to help ward off the biting cold, the patrolling soldiers still pressed together in a tight herd, as though this would provide a modicum of warmth.

This year, the new year had come and gone, but because of the tensions between the tribes and Great Ye, none of them had been relieved from their posts and reunion with their families had been nothing more than a pipe dream.