Five centuries of cold war. Five centuries of mistrust and espionage, attempts at assassinations and undermining of one another's domestic and foreign ventures. The war had been brewing for five hundred years but it took whispers and dark rumours to finally set in motion.  Ancient, evil machinations that had been found by a lost spy looking for a path in the dark. 

With the war machines going and diplomacy a complete farce between the two powers, one last mission of peace was all that stood between them and falling into the plot of powers beyond their imagining. 

One mission involving a border fort high in the mountain passes that divided Aupana in the east and Sellexu in the west.  A mission that saw one of the Queen's newly formed diplomats, who all went by the name and title, Foxes, defending a castle with a handful of back country rangers. 

It was a silly little castle. One forgotten stone bastion in the mountains on the edge of the sea, standing alone against the onslaught of armies and time.It hadn't had to do much more than stand there, alone, amongst the mountains and crashing waves below, for several hundred years. 

The enemies it protected against had remained on their side of the vast bay that separated the two lands through most of its history. They had not traversed the unforgiving monolithic peaks that would bring them here in recent memory, though the threat had hung unspoken through failed diplomacy and wars by proxy waged by either side.

Neither of the two nations had, whether defender or aggressor, until just recently. The castle was a remnant from another long ago battle, held on to by one side as a main turning point and victory before being ultimately forgotten. 

Ranger sections from Aupana would move through the passes and inhabit the castle along their ever varying routes, sheltering out bad winter storms and providing an early warning to any chance of invasion from their sleeping neighbours. But there was no village nearby, no liege holding court within its damp stone walls, for it was a forgotten, silly little castle.

"And suddenly, all the world is willing to die for this damned thing." Foxes murmured softly to herself, looking up at the ramparts as she surveyed its defences.

"Now you're just being melodramatic. No one wants to die for this." The reply came from her second in command, the grizzled, one eyed warrior called Nathax, a man who had been a Ranger of Aupana all his life. He had lived in these passes, sheltered in this castle for longer than he could remember, longer than most his section had been alive.

She chuckled and pulled her white hood back over her painted features. "Yeah. But this is the only open pass, during the first season Sellexu has wanted to wage war in five hundred years."

Nathax smirked as he inclined his head. "Aye. So why is it that the Queen-heir has decided to reinforce this tiny forgotten Ranger platoon, with one of her white diplomats?"

Foxes sighed softly, looking over to the man, though he couldn't see her eyes, cloaked in the shadows of her hood as they were. "I could regale you with the same nonsense of how this is important and that everything will make sense and that we are here to give them time to assemble on the battlefields below this pass..."

"But I don't give two dog farts about diplomatic poetry." Nathax cut her off, as she knew he would. "Not when the lives of my Rangers are on the line. They're good men and women who don't ask for much from their country." 

"Then just take faith that I am here because all the reds and the blacks and the blues were busy."

"There are that many colours to choose from?"

Foxes barked out a laugh and clapped the man on the back, leading him back indoors. "Did you know she even had white diplomats before I arrived?"

***

"M'lord, they beat us to the pass." The scout stumbled in, dripping wet from the rain pouring outside, looking like he had not stopped running until arriving at the tent of the  Sellexu commander.

Shiar looked up from the map and waved the man in, motioning for him to stand by the fire. "How many of them?"

The scout shrugged out of his cloak, letting one of the servants take it as he looked from the fire to his commander. "A section or two, they look less like heavy fighters and more like the ranger scouts that patrol the mountains in Aupana. They have leather armour, bows, swords, some provisions. Not much."

"Are we sure that they are specifically sent in or even know we're here? Perhaps they are just passing through." Kael, one of the lower lords standing to Shiar's left piped up, tapping the map. "We could wait for them to continue on."

"No, m'lord, they were tucking in. Reinforcing things, getting dug in and quick." The scout disagreed, ducking his head in respect for his betters. Though his expression was stubborn, he had been doing this a lot longer than most of these nobles had.

"We have two hundred warriors here for front party. The remainder will be here in two weeks, a dozen or so men in a castle can hardly be a stumbling block." Sakil, another lord, sniffed disdainfully and looked to Shiar.

Shiar caught himself before he winced in disgust at the preening and misquoted lack of military understanding being flung around the tent, finally shaking his head. "Our remaining force expects the pass to be open to march through, the Prince Heir will lead us on the plains. It is our job to make that possible"

"They are weak. They send a small party and they let women fight with them. Not to mention that their heir is Princess. We will have no difficulty in defeating them." Sakil wheezed through his nose as he puffed out his chest, supposedly to prove his point.

"Do not ever underestimate the enemy, Lord Sakil." Shiar said coolly, watching the man deflate under his glare. "But you are so confident, take fifty of your best men, and lead the first attack on the walls."

The other man froze for a moment, eyes bugging out at the sudden challenge. He was a coward when it came to real action, but Shiar had enough of the mans bluster to last him the rest of the campaign. "M'lord Shiar..."

"Think of the glory... Lord Sakil..."

The scout near the fire opened his mouth to speak but Shiar D'Ilnza raised his fingers just slightly to signal him to be quiet. There was a stretch of silence before Sakil bowed, muttering excuses of preparation and rushed out of the tent  quickly followed by the other Lords. They all bolstered themselves with talk of their own bravery as they strode out into the haze and rain, letting in a waft of coolness that settled far quicker than the remaining High Lord would like. Winter was a fickle mistress this far north.

"What is the rest of your report?" Shiar murmured softly as he took a seat near the fire, watching the scout with his mossy green eyes, a half smile hidden under his well-trimmed beard.

"M'Lord, their commander is a female. She wears all white." The scout said carefully, watching the other man as if unsure if the information was relevant. "I got close enough to hear them talking. they called her the Queen's diplomat."

Shiar narrowed his eyes at the fire, staying silent for  such a long time that his soft voice came as a surprise when he finally spoke. "Do you agree with Sakil?"

"M'lord?"

"Do you agree that this target is weak?"

The scout immediately shook his head, which was surprising enough even without the following statement. "M'lord will excuse me but you have the luxury of being born in a class that treats its women as weak. I do not and besides that, I have been to international ports and seen their women fight as warriors in games, in street brawls, in combat. They're smaller yes but they make up for it in other ways. Women just, don't get as prideful as men do. My mother used to say that women will find peace long before the men will."

"Women have no place on the battle field." Shiar said, standing again, looking at the scout with a queer expression. "Men seek to protect them. They get distracted from the mission."

The scout shrugged, looking off to one side. "My mother used to ask, why a woman was considered weak for a man's flaw. I never really used to understand it, m'lord." 

There was a long silence that stretched between them as the scout waited for his berating for arguing against him. Shiar didn't demand absolute servitude from his soldiers. As a scout, the man needed to make judgements and give opinions based off what he saw. In battle, his higher ranking warriors needed to be able to feel confident in themselves.  His father had taught him that. Leadership wasn't absolute control over everyone, but the humility to listen to other's thoughts and ideas. It was unconventional, but it had never steered him wrong before.

Shiar finally chuckled, setting the man at ease. "Rest, warm up, feed yourself. In the morning, go to the Prince. Tell him that we may yet get the end he hopes for, if there's a diplomat here."

***

"The messenger wishes us to know that the High Lord Shiar, Commander of his majesty's forces, wants to take control of this pass and this castle. There are over two hundred fighters ready to attack, with thousands more only days behind. We have three hours to surrender..." The younger ranger, a dark-skinned youth reported with a casual drawl, squinting through the darkness of the predawn morning as they watched the horizon.

"Three hours is dawn. He'd be an idiot to attack into the sun, they wouldn't be able to see us. Not to mention that with their shiny armour, they would be sitting ducks in the brightness." Nathax snorted, looking to the woman sitting on her pack in a group of Rangers, sharing a meal with them.

 She appeared to be unassuming, unless you noted the Royal white cloak she wore. A sign of the Regent herself. Or perhaps it was the unsettling black war paint that covered the top half of her face, giving her bright green eyes an eerie glow. Either way, despite her lack of pomp, it was clear that she was not your run of the mill spy.

She nodded, smiling ever so slightly. "He would be."

 She stood up and motioned to the youth to lead the way, pulling her hood up as they headed out to meet the Sellexun representative.

The messenger was well armored, mainly in metal plates joined by leather for ease of movement. He had kept his helmet on but she could tell he had dark olive skin and deep brown eyes and he stood there cockily as she approached from the side door of the fort's gate.

 "You have accepted the terms." He stated in rough Aupanan, as if it were obvious.

"Who's colours do you wear?" She said, pointing to his shield, stopping well away from him with two rangers standing easily behind her.

"Lord Sakil D'yantha, the dragon." The man said carefully.

"So, you speak for Lord Sakil. Not High Lord Shiar?"

He shook his head, looking a bit confused and taken-aback at her line of questioning. "I was told to get the commander's surrender."

She paused then pulled her hood down, smirking as he started and took a step back. Her hair was bright red and braided in rows on one side which pulled her hair back and to the left side of her head. There was black paint over the top half of her face, making her features hard to discern, even as her lips were painted red to mimic blood. 

It was understandably  an unexpected sight, for even in Aupana they didn't dress like this but at least her Rangers weren't as afraid of her visage as the man was. "Tell both your Lords this, then. That we will hold this castle as long as we need to. Send as many people as you can fathom against us and we will remain in place. Tell them that we will negotiate on behalf of Aupana with a spokesperson for Sellexu. But we will not surrender."

"You have till sunrise to be gone!" The messenger stumbled back as she took a menacing step forward, scrambling onto his horse which he wheeled away and galloped into the darkness. His bluster was surprisingly short lived.

"The idiot is going to break his neck before they get that message, M'lady."

"Call me Foxes, kid. Am I really that scary?"

Both rangers chuckled sharing a joke about the fright in the man who had fled but Foxes merely frowned as she tried to calculate the rashness of her words. She let the two have that moment of levity, knowing that by allowing them to stay as a boy and a girl for a moment more, she was allowing them a small sense of peace she couldn't necessarily guarantee in the future.

She waited, watching the darkness for several breaths before returning to the safety of her walls. A nations youth must die so that the rich can feel more power, it seemed. She glanced upwards towards the hidden stars, feeling the rain hit her skin, letting the coolness wash away the nostalgia that hit her unexpectedly. 

Foxes wasn't sure where she was in that equation of youth and opulence but she was beginning to feel as if she would be seen as one of those power-hungry types, leading innocence into battle for her own pride.

She prayed it wasn't so but the darkness gave no ground to the weak at heart.