Title: copper dreams and crimson stars

Rating: M

Summary: In the ashes of a young man's funeral pyre, a little boy opens his eyes in a small country far to the east. A country in an entirely different world. [OC-Insert, AU]

Warnings: Description of gore, violence, gender inequality, dark themes present. Be prepared for lots of AU ahead. Additionally, certain views of characters portrayed in the story are not necessarily reflective of the author's beliefs, and should not be perceived as acceptable.

AN at bottom.

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copper dreams and crimson stars

"02: sever, ride, scattered tide"

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It is quiet, mostly.

In the crisp chill of a cold, overcast morning, a pale sun peers blearily into the murky gloom, scattering faint hues of red and pink across the mostly-dark sky. There is a certain stillness in the air, a sort of unnamed tension that is difficult to pin down or put a label to. Yet, there remains no doubt that this eerie lull is directly linked to the strange energy surrounding the slumbering encampment itself.

For this particular encampment is one that numbers five-hundred strong, consisting of battle-hardened soldiers and blooded warriors under the command of the Wolf of Myo.

It is early, though, and most have yet to rise. The silence is only softly interspersed by the scattered sounds of sleep, the quiet whickering of horses, and the scant, stray rustles of nebulous movements far into the distance. Perhaps they belong to soldiers, to animals, to the wind in the grass –it makes no difference.

In a small clearing not far from where the troops have made their encampment last night, Ayumu repeats yet another sweep-lift-turn with the spear in his hands. Clean execution, practiced and smooth.

(Genius, they say, but that's not quite true. Ayumu's skill is born through countless hours of repetition, and the only reason why he even spends all those hours in the first place is–)

"Working yourself to the bone when we are on verge of reaching the battlefield is beyond foolish."

A sudden voice cuts through the relative silence in the air, severe and disapproving. However, the rebuke slides off the black-haired boy's shoulders as easily as water does a duckling's feathers, for all the acknowledgment the young child gives those words. Ayumu nods, a near-imperceptible movement that is only a faint incline of his head and nothing else, then twists into one last thrust-pull-hold, slowly drawing back the polearm to finish the practice form.

Behind him, General Sou clucks his tongue in sharp reprimand. "Are you deaf, boy?"

Ayumu straightens, sliding his spear into the harness on his back. Almost as if entirely oblivious to the disapproval lurking behind the older man's coal-dark eyes, he takes a respectful step back and bows, son to father.

(It does not matter that, to this day, the boy still remains perplexed by the complexities of respect and etiquette and propriety in this strange new world that everyone is assumed to know, and thus no one ever bothers to stop and explain. It's confusing and frustrating, but after eight long years of immersion, at least Ayumu has become proficient at mimicking the behavior that is expected of him, even if he still doesn't quite understand.)

"I apologize, lord father," he says simply, because a noble house's son must always show that he is obedient to his father, a soldier deferent to his general. He casts his eyes to the ground and does not look up. "It has become habit for me, to rise early and review my forms. But if it so pleases you, I will refrain from doing so for the remainder of the march."

The old general regards his son for a long moment in silence, anger slowly fading away. "… This is not about pleasing me, son."

Isn't it? The thought springs to Ayumu's mind unbidden, and the boy quickly bites down on his tongue before the meaningless words escape his lips. In front of him, his lord father is already speaking again.

"You are young, so you do not understand. Consider this your first lesson of the battlefield: You must always be prepared. We are no longer ensconced within the safety of the capital city anymore. We are on our way to cross blades with enemies, with bloodthirsty soldiers of the Kou Empire. Tiring yourself out like this –just what were you hoping to accomplish here, exactly?" General Sou shakes his head. "A single morning of practice will not increase your skills in any meaningful manner. What if we were to be ambushed right now? Would you rather be well-rested and ready, or tired and weary from unnecessary physical exertion? Travel and tension already sap at a soldier's strength, why add to that strain?"

The soot-haired boy remains silent and does not answer. His father sighs, letting out a gusty breath. "You are not the only one with strong dedication to hard work, amongst the men of Myo. Why do you think you've never seen other soldiers up and about at this hour, pushing themselves as hard as you have been consistently doing these past several days? There are other, better ways of working off restless energy, in situations like these."

Ayumu… understands, somewhat. He understands where the general is coming from, and his words, born of experience, certainly deliver sound advice to an unknowing child's ears. It's not hard to see things from General Sou's perspective. As a father witnessing his son make juvenile mistakes, why would he not step in to correct them when he can?

Mentally, Ayumu might be far older than the age his physical body portrays, but when it comes to war experience, the boy easily admits that the old general has him beat by a landslide. The man has fought and bled and lived through more years of battle than Ayumu has been alive, both lives included.

He might have his fair share of misgivings about General Sou's… child-rearing tactics, his methodologies, but Ayumu cannot deny that the older man means well, when it comes to his only son. Decision to drag an eight year old with him to a military campaign aside, that is. So…

"I understand, general," is all he says in the end. Tactfully, Ayumu mentions nothing about recurring dreams of non-existent worlds, of nightmares involving painful death and dark, suffocating silence. There is a reason why Ayumu prefers working his body to the bone, rather than the silence of his own mind. But it does not stop him from appreciating his father's gesture, somewhat.

Part of his mixed feelings on this matter seem to come across to the old general somehow; the man sighs, and it's a weary sound. "You are far more clever and talented than I was at your age, my son. But that does not change the fact that you are still young, and there remains much for you to learn."

"Yes, lord father."

General Sou lifts his eyes. "… It is good that you understand. Now, come. We will be beginning the day's march soon."

The boy nods, and follows.

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As the leading general, Sou Shinshou travels at the head of the vanguard, flanked by his commanders. Behind him follows the main army, the bulk of his soldiers, and the rear guard marches at the very back. Surrounding this massive formation are several mobile teams of scouts, constantly scanning and searching the road ahead, reporting back at regular intervals.

Horseback riding for prolonged periods of time is… not a pleasant experience. In the beginning, at least. As the son of a general, riding lessons had been par the course, but neither had the lessons themselves lasted for days on end with no end in sight. Ayumu has bruises in some very uncomfortable places as a direct result of this, but he's learning, adjusting.

(It's not as if he has any other options.)

Ayumu follows the march of his fellow soldiers somewhere around the middle of the main army. It had been somewhat of a surprise in the beginning, as he'd assumed the general would at least want to keep a close eye on his eight year old son, but also… not. No, he can't really say that he was surprised by the general's decision to throw his son in along with the rest of his soldiers.

"You are a son of the Sou Family. You will either learn to stand on your own two feet –or not at all."

… No, Ayumu isn't surprised in the least.

It does make him wonder, though, what the standard for educating children in this strange new world is. If General Sou is harsh on his son simply because he has high hopes for him, or if this type of treatment is somehow considered to be the norm. Most of the men in the army look to be well into their twenties or thirties, but Ayumu has glimpsed several other midget-sized soldiers wandering around camp, too, and it's… confusing.

Until he overhears a conversation regarding drafting protocols, of conscripted soldiers, men sent forth from each family–

His cousins, he knows, are also stepping out onto the battlefield. Not with General Sou Shinshou, but with the great general's younger brother General Sou Shinyou instead. There is no draft forcing them to step forth; strictly speaking, under the drafting laws, neither Ayushu, Ayuto, nor Ayumu are required to march beneath the emperor's banner as soldiers of his army.

Nothing forcing them, aside the name they carry and the blood in their veins. The duty passed from father to son, the honor that the family has sworn to uphold.

(Ayumu doesn't understand. Not that it's ever mattered…)

Sou.

As far as Ayumu knows, it's only the males of the family who are indoctrinated as such, groomed from birth to become the perfect fangs and claws to bare against Myo's enemies. General Sou has never paid much attention to the education that his sisters have received, leaving the girls' teachings up to the discretion of Lady Amake. The man seems content to play the alternating role of distant-doting father to his daughters, constant only in that he never breathes a word of military strategy nor martial training when the three girls are around.

"Jealousy is unbecoming of a son of the Sou Family. Your sisters are yours to treasure and protect, not to entreat with petty envy."

… The general is not a good father. One only has to look at his decision to bring his eight year old son onto the battlefield with him in order to realize that. Still, there's no denying that he tries, and… in the end, that's all Ayumu could ever really ask for, isn't it?

The young boy's grip on the reins of his horse tighten, then loosen.

"Somethin' eating at your mind, kid?"

Ayumu blinks. "… You could say that."

The soldier riding next to him snorts. "You've been awfully silent, unlike the other brats running around. Relax, you're serving under the Wolf of Myo! Cheer up a little, son."

… Wolf of Myo, indeed. If only he could take comfort in that.

The man grins widely. "Trust me! It'll be fine, you'll see."

.

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Trust me, he said.

It'll be fine, he said.

Just follow my lead, he said. This is my third battle, I know what I'm doing. You remind me of my son. Just stay close to me and I'll keep you safe, okay?

Ayumu roughly sloughs off the fleshy meld of blood and dirt and god knows what else splattered messily across his arms, spinning on his heel and swinging his spear overhead in a wide arc. A child's strength, even a mildly talented one, is absolutely fucking useless when pitted against a grown man, and the force of the backlash from Ayumu's spear colliding against the enemy's own quite literally launches the small boy into the air.

Which is just as well, given that it'd been what he'd been aiming for in the first place.

Ayumu lands clumsily, stumbles over the arrow-riddled corpse of the soldier who'd one-sidedly decided to take him under his wing, and ducks. It's more instinct than anything else guiding his movements right now, and he doesn't register that there had been an arrow aimed at his head until it lands, goring another hole into the still-warm corpse of the softhearted man beside him.

Seasoned soldier his ass.

You can't even protect yourself. Why did you try to protect me? … Just because I reminded you of your son?

Ayumu rises to his feet –and abruptly dives for the ground again, biting his teeth down on a curse. Fucking archers, he'd heard older soldiers grumbling about the past few days. Now that Ayumu has had his own experience with enemy archers, he feels inclined to agree. Fucking archers. He hits the ground and rolls, barely clearing all three arrows chasing him in close succession one after another, and he's pretty sure he's not imagining that ripping sound at the end, there.

Lightweight cloth armor more suitable for children? See if he's not going to shake someone down for at least a few armored plates if he makes it out of this place. When he makes it out of this place.

Ayumu rolls into a crouch, spear sliding into his hands more from habit than any conscious action on his part, and –there!

A choked sound. A wet gurgle.

Ayumu had never much appreciated his lord father, in his infinite wisdom, forcing his son to learn how to hit his targets blind, even when he wasn't looking at them. More fool him, then, considering that it was only General Sou's teachings keeping him alive at the moment.

"Don't concentrate on the spears!" A man shouts, screams somewhere in the not-so-far distance. "Someone just get the fucking archers already!"

Sounds like a great plan, Ayumu muses. The only problem is, who can actually get to the enemy archers in the first place?!

Breaths short and ragged, the young boy roughly yanks his spear out of his enemy's throat, ducking to the side to avoid having a larger, heavier corpse fall on top of him. He's not quite fast enough to avoid the resulting spray of blood, unfortunately –and something about this entire situation makes an entirely inappropriate laughter rise to his throat, sharp and hysteric, but…

"Panic in midst of battle will get you nowhere. You must keep a level heart, and a level mind –everything else can come after the battle has ended."

Sound advice, lord general.

Ayumu sucks in a deep breath, fingers clenching around the spear in his hands. It's too-warm and too-slippery, and the coppery tang of blood in the air makes him want to scream, but–

Why are we being attacked out of nowhere this is war he said we weren't there yet ambush AMBUSH this is Beiluo Pass how in the world–?

Survive, first. Everything else comes later.

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…

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Author's Notes:

There will probably be a lot of inaccuracies and what not about the logistics and details regarding historical armies/battle/military and what not, since I only did a cursory lookup… that, and I'm not exactly a history buff by any stretch of the word. So, don't take anything too seriously or quote me on anything here, yeah?

Three guesses on how the war goes for Myo in the end, and the first two don't count. ;3

-XxZuiliu