Brekock looked out over the walls of the fortress - Dregunrooks Fortress, due west of Prushtinja. This was one of those blessed times when he could look out over a united Bulkhai.

But even though Vanbools was not by his side now, he could still feel his presence hovering over Brekock. Like a tempest, a storm that he once weathered in Fiyer.

No, a siege. That's what Vanbools was. And he was weathering Brekock down, just like he was doing to all of Bulkhai.

And not just Bulkhan Bulkhai either. Right now, Vanbools was off with his men. He was writing letters, enforcing recruitment. One in every ten able-bodied men were to be conscripted. Bulkhai was vast - and one in every ten men would be a hundred thousand.

One hundred thousand men to be sent to die. Ever since the Viceroy arrived, it was crimson torrent or another.

Brekock became disturbingly aware that he could no longer count how many men Bulkhai had lost. Not just Fiyer. Not just Lushnii, or Tirania, or the ruin that was now Shkodriana. All of Bulkhai.

And now Marxhui too would be irrigated with blood. Vanbools would make a staircase of corpses if that would help his scale those mountains - but Brekock feared that there would be some even more catastrophic, abhorrent loss of life, that Bulkhai's future would get ever grimmer.

Brekock did not know how Vanbools would take Marxhui. He said foreign words, and sent foreign letters. He did things. He made Brekock Grand Shqipojn of all of Bulkhai.

But was it really worth it?

Yes, he was no longer the Shqip in Fiyer. Vanbools had made good on his promise - he had given Brekock all of Bulkhai, and more. Glimmer had brought knowledge, and strength. Protection. Wealth, so much wealth, wealth beyond Brekock ever dreamed to exist in all the world. Glimmer had brought all of these things. But was it better that a Bulkhan was to rule all of Bulkhai, than to let it waste away tearing eachother apart?

Was it better than an Aimerian Emperor, or one from Oxjoldov, or some other more oppressive power? Was Bulkhai best off under a Bulkhan puppet controlled by a Mad Glimmerite?

Perhaps, perhaps not. Perhaps it was the decision of the dragons. Perhaps it was Mother Glim's decree. Perhaps a Golden Elephant did rule from the sky.

Or perhaps no god existed, and none would save them now.

Brekock looked out over his territory, and looked to Marxhui. Bulkhai once seemed so verdant, so magical, so... wonderful. Marxhui had once seemed so distant, indomitable. Separate.

But things change, don't they.

Bulkhai would just need to soldier on.

[M]: Takes place in 962. We're preparing to invade Marxhui!