War General Baria sits in deep thought in the midst of the strategy room, encircled by maps of battlegrounds scrawled in black ink and armories of greatswords and axes. Stark portraits of each general that’d come before her.

All around is the bloodied history of the Ashen Lands, beckoning at her to make a decision.

One would lead to nothing. A decision leaving two empires still at war for another century to come. Villages and kingdoms burned and left in flames. Traitors still roaming the Dead Lands with ease.

_As for the other…_

The second would lead into massacres. Warfare. The death of the Gurial Empire’s royal family. Innocent children dead and left in a storm of blood.

General Baria shuts her eyes, drawing in a sharp breath.

_What will you do? _The eyes of the portraits suffocate her with their gazes.

_Think of your empire! _

_Think of the innocent lives! _

_Think of—! _

__

“General Baria,” __

__

The Grand Emperor’s voice cuts through her thoughts as he enters the room, rich silk robes threaded with gold finery flowing like water behind him.

His eyes are sharp and unmasked as they land onto hers. Eyes that have witnessed bloodshed and death for decades. “Have you made a decision?”

_You’re running out of time, General,_ one portrait hisses with a bite of venom in his tone.

General Baria balls her hands into fists, stealing a glance outside the window of the strategy room one final time.

_An entire empire at stake. _

There’s only one solution.

“Yes,” She answers, words tight as she speaks. “The only answer is arson, my dear Emperor,” With a narrow of her eyes and a speeding heart, she whispers, _“We must paint it all in blood.” _