Chapter Text
Mapicc groaned and collapsed his head on the table in front of him, lightly grabbing his hair and dislodging his bandanna in the process.
They had lost. Again.
His right hand man, Zam, read off the reports they had gotten from the front, only a few miles from where they stood in the War Command tent on the hill overlooking a massive field.
“Any land past the river was retaken by their army,” he sighed, “Thankfully it’s nothing critical. We still hold this hill and the river remains secured–”
“But we still fucking lost!” Mapicc slammed his hands on the wood, causing a few of the other advisors to jump. The prince swept his gaze around the room, locking eyes with each and every one of them. “And none of you have anything? No one has any ideas on how we can stop getting our ass beat by their stupid army??”
Silence.
Mapicc fell back into his chair with a tsk. He waved his hand, dismissing everyone from the room except Zam. He waited for everyone to file out the room before turning to his friend.
“How do they keep winning?” He strode over to the map in the middle, picking up the peg that represented the same tent they stood in, except on the opposite side. “What’s going on in here,” he tapped the little peg, “That’s able to stump every single person here?”
“Granted, most of our advisors are dumbasses anyway.” Zam muttered, moving to stand opposite the table so he could get a better view.
Mapicc huffed a laugh. Suddenly, an idea struck him.
“Advisors! Who was that guy Leo had mentioned?”
“Leo? God, you want me to look through his reports?”
Mapicc smirked, “Just do it, Zam.”
After a considerable amount of grumbling and ruffling through reports, Zam pulled out the file that held the information Leo had gotten from his undercover operation.
“Uhh, it says here,” he squinted, “‘Ro is by far the best advisor they have. He coordinated the attack on Fort Shade and leads the war council. Clutch, on the other hand, don’t even get me started–’”
Mapicc clapped, “There!”
“Huh?”
“Ro! That’s the name, right? Head of war council, took Fort Shade from us?”
Zam retraced his way through the page, landing on the description Leo had written about Ro. “Oh, yeah. Looks like he’s the brains of the other Command.”
Mapicc grinned in approval. “Great. Find me whatever you can on him. I need to know more about this Ro fella.”
“Fuck no. Ain’t no way you’re forcing me to read through all of Leo’s reports!”
The prince dragged a hand across his face, “Fine, I’ll help.”
—
One thing was for certain. They needed Ro.
“Full name Roshambo, age 16 and head wartime advisor.” Zam read off. He didn’t need to, Mapicc had already memorized everything about the guy.
Younger than him, but just as talented at leading an army. Even more so, if the tides of this war were to be consulted.
“Origin: unknown. A vital member of the King’s cabinet.”
That still struck him as odd. Mapicc had been raised as a warrior prince; he’d been reading books about military formations and attack patterns since he was out of the crib.
But no one seemed to know anything about Ro.
“He’s an enigma.”
“One that we need on our side.” Mapicc stood up from the pile of papers in front of him. Zam raised an eyebrow.
“And how do you plan on doing that? I doubt he’ll betray his kingdom that easily.”
Mapicc grinned, “We’re just going to have to convince him.”
Zam took a single glance at the glint in his prince’s eyes before groaning.
This was going to be such a bad idea.
—
“Please Zam! My dad is going to be so pissed if I don’t win this war for him!”
“That’s not my problem!” Zam tried to dart away from the prince’s pleading stare, trying to keep out of his reach as the other tried to get him to help with his plan.
“Uh, yeah it is.”
“Please explain to me how-” he yanked his yellow cloak from Mapicc’s grasp as the brunette managed to grab it, “-sneaking behind enemy lines will convince their council leader of war to join our side?!”
“Well, do you have another plan?” He grinned in triumph when Zam remained silent, still trudging towards the food tent where he could finally get a break.
“C’mon man! It won’t take too much time, I know how busy you are–”
“Do you realize how dangerous this is??” Zam finally turned to look at the prince. “You could get caught! How would I explain to your father that I managed to get his son captured?!”
“Just don’t, duh!”
Zam fixed him with a death stare. Mapicc was wise enough to sigh and back down.
“Fine, I won’t go to him. But what if we could pass him a message instead?”
Zam’s expression didn’t change, though this time it was less because of Mapicc’s dumbassery.
“If I have to talk to Leo I’m going to kill you.”
—
Zam ended up having to talk to Leo.
Thankfully there was no way to actually talk in person, with Leo still being deep behind enemy lines. Instead, Zam wrote out a short note and tied it to the leg of a carrier pigeon, trained to fly directly to Leo’s hub for his agents. In spite of the exasperated way he acted around the other, him and Leo were actually pretty good friends. He respected the business of information, and appreciated Leo as their spymaster.
The other was the perfect candidate to anonymously deliver the note, a concise message instructing him to request an audience with Ro. Hopefully, the mysterious advisor would say yes.
He patted the bird’s head before letting it fly off in the direction of the war front. He watched it until it was no more than a speck on the horizon before turning away.
“Thank god that’s out of the way.” he muttered under his breath, strolling past food and supply tents and bustling soldiers. More than a few saluted as he passed by, while others smiled and waved. Zam greeted each of them, playing well the part of an admirable general.
Eventually he reached the center of their temporary camp, housing the largest, and by far busiest, tent. Everyone from errand boys to high ranking advisors ran about, shouting and tripping over each other. Zam glanced around, confused by the level of chaos. Usually the central tent was busy enough, but it was always much more systematic. Nothing like the panic that had taken everyone around him by the throat.
Luckily, he soon found out when a messenger boy ran up to him, out of breath and slightly terrified, “General! Thank god I found you,” he huffed, “There’s been an attack on the riverfront.”
Zam clenched his jaw, gripping his cloak and looking down at the boy in front of him. “Where’s the prince?”
The other glanced at the big tent behind him, and that was answer enough for Zam. He sprinted towards the entrance, darting around soldiers gathering weapons and scouts delivering reports from the front. He ducked under the cloth threshold of the tent, entering to see an identical version of the table map they had in the war command tent. Across the table stood Mapicc, moving the pegs that represented their troops into defensive positions. The brunette made eye contact with him as he strode up to his side, sighing in relief.
“Good, you’re here.” he gestured to where the other side’s miniature models were closing in on the river, attacking the right flank where the flatlands made it difficult to defend.
Zam swore, “That’s not looking good.”
Mapicc just nodded. He called for another scout to give him updated information, while Zam examined the board.
There were too few troops defending the right, that was for certain. But sending more forces would spread them too thin.
“We can’t even send backup.” Zam muttered. Mapicc glared at the attacking army with blatant anger, “This is all Ro’s doing.”
Zam glanced at him questioningly.
“It’s perfect,” the prince stepped back, spreading his arms out to encompass the entire board, “Something even I wouldn't have thought of. Attack our weakest flank. Then, if we take reinforcements from the other side, attack there. Even if we don’t fall for it, we still lose the right.”
Zam closed his eyes for a brief second. There wasn’t anything they could do, besides send whatever little troops they had here at the main camp.
Suddenly, Mapicc whirled around and strode towards the exit. Zam jerked up in surprise, before running after him. “Woah, woah! Where are you going?”
Mapicc shed his red cape to show an already partial plate of armor covering him, with a sword sheathed at his side. “To the front. I’m not sacrificing the rest of the river for this pain in the ass flank.”
“But you’re sacrificing yourself?”
The prince tsked and continued outside, with Zam desperately trailing him.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle. We need all the men we can get.” He quickened his pace in the direction of the armory tent. Zam groaned and slid a hand down his face.
“The king’s going to kill me.”
He shed his own cloak.
—
Somewhere deep behind enemy lines, a hooded figure with a bow trained his weapon towards the sky, patiently scanning the clouds.
There.
A dot on the horizon at first, then as it got closer, the shape of a bird formed against the expanse of white and blue.
He waited. Waited until it got close.
Then, snap!
The arrow hit its mark.
The pigeon fell to the ground in front of him. He kneeled to untie the note from its foot, unfurling it and standing to study the writing.
The figure grinned.
“You want an audience, Prince Mapicc?”
He pushed back his hood, revealing vibrant violet trained eyes towards the war front. Miles past it, as if he could see where the enemy’s leader stood.
“I’ll give you one.”