[b]Tashi al Dorje in Parna - Dawn[/b]

[i]Too soon...[/i] The young man thought, rolling onto his back at the hoarse, bellowing call of the camp crier. [i]I feel like my head just hit the bedroll... There's no way it's morning already...[/i]

"Tashi, get your armor together!" Came the whispered urging of one of his tent-mates, a thin, dark-skinned lad who had come to the division not three days prior. Tashi struggled again to remember his name for a moment and recalled that it was Ferran.

Then the realization of Ferran's words finally settled into his sleep-clouded mind.

"We're leaving?" Tashi asked, his fatigue suddenly forgotten as he sat upright and threw his blanket away from his body.

"As soon as the division is mustered, we are. It would seem that we are to discourage some peasant rebellion."

As quickly as he had become excited, Tashi's mood fell. He sighed in exasperation and kicked his bedroll hotly, before bending to start the process of packing for travel.

"I was not trained to quell rebellious peasants, Ferran."

"And yet, it is what we shall do, Tashi. Ours is not to question the merits of our orders. Only to follow them."

Seeing no legitimate argument against his fellow soldier, or at least none that would carry any weight should he bother to voice it, Tashi settled for brooding in silence.

-----

An hour later, he was mustered with the rest of the Sixth Division. A glorious sight, a legion of men lined up in columns and rows, the rising sun shining off of polished metal armor plates. Most men wore full plate, and sat atop war horses. Others, like Tashi, wore only half-plate armor, desiring a bit more maneuverability in combat. Still others were clad only in lamellar, chain, or leather armor. Many of the division went unarmored entirely, most of them serving as archers and camp workers.

They were different in many ways, save one. The desire to serve, and the drive to protect their country. While some may have joined for the benefits of food, lodging and pay, others simply wanted nothing more than to fight for their country. Tashi belonged to this group, as did his father before him.

After a few minutes of waiting, the Division was greeted by Lord Commander Kalsang, a tall, powerfully built knight who wore gold-trimmed armor, and a black cape that carried the sigil of the king. He sat atop a mighty warhorse, similarly armored, and carried a brilliantly shining lance.

"Sixth Division!" He roared, his voice carrying throughout the whole of the field they had assembled in.

"Yes, Lord Commander!" Came the unified, bellowing reply. It sent shivers down Tashi's spine, to be amongst the force of Balenia as they rallied to the call of their commander.

"Today we ride for Marne! I'm sure you have all heard the rumors. Peasants stir in Marne, and aim to begin a rebellion against the kingdom! We shall not allow this!" Kalsang raised the point of his lance as he drove his warhorse down the line of his soldiers, meeting many of their eyes as he passed.

Tashi had been on the receiving end of his gaze some years ago. He did not care for it then, for it preceded the knowledge of his fathers death. Now, however, it brought a certain motivation that he had been lacking that morning.

"We ride to keep the order of Balenia!" Kalsang cried.

"Yes, Lord Commander!" The division replied.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Move out!"

With a singular purpose, the entirety of the Sixth Legion turned about, towards the road to Marne, and marched. The unity of their movements was awesome to behold, as hundreds of hoof beats and footfalls created an audible thunder from the earth.

Tashi felt pity for whoever decided to stand against them. For surely, they would be hopelessly outnumbered and outmatched.

-----

"Tashi!"

The young soldier was stirred for the second time that day by someone calling his name. He had just settled in for a nap in his saddle, it seemed, when he felt a hand slap against his shoulder.

Tashi shook his head and turned to see Jeroen riding alongside him. Grinning, he held out a closed fist, which was met by Jeroen's own.

"Come to gloat?" He asked, still feeling the sting of numerous blows dealt to him by the older man.

"On the contrary. I'm here to ask after you again, on behalf of an old friend." Jeroen said, passing a rolled up piece of paper to Tashi, who sighed as he accepted it.

It was not the first time he had heard from the Sendai, and as Jeroen was demonstrating, it was unlikely to be the last. In his youth, he had been told that he possessed something called a spark. At first, he took it as a typical compliment, akin to being told he had potential.

Eventually, however, the true meaning became clearer. Tashi did not like the idea of abandoning his career, but he wasn't able to deny all of the merits of the arguments that had been presented to him.

"To what end?" Tashi finally said, opening the note and reading it over. "What do you gain from helping the Sendai?"

Jeroen chuckled, shaking his head and looking to the sky.

"I gain nothing, at present. However, that does not blind me to what I - what we all stand to gain in the future, should you accept their offer."

"And what of my wishes?" Tashi said, a bit of irritation in his tone. "Does no one consider that I may not want to live in seclusion for an indeterminate amount of time? That I may not want to abandon my country for some dusty old mystic order?"

"Tashi, no one ever said that you had to join the group. However, your objections, to me, beg the question... Why have you not told them 'no,' if you truly have no desire to become Sendai?"

Tashi opened his mouth to speak, only to find it empty of words. Jeroen's knowing smile did not serve to calm the young man.

"I think you owe it to yourself to try it. And if you truly wish to remain, another mundane soldier in an army of men, then you owe it to the Sendai to give them a real answer." The old man said, settling into his saddle for comfort.

Tashi looked down at his hands, lost in thought, and rode on in silence.