The crisp sunrise began to rise on the streets of 1857 Paris. A cold breeze blew the window of a university dorm open and let the harsh temperature inside, much to the discomfort of its inhabitant. A young man awoke to this sudden chill and a certain commotion involving a crowd outside which didn't leave him with the best impression of the day to come. He sat and began to comb his dirty blonde hair while he stared blankly at the clock by his bedside. The vision in his dull brown eyes was fuzzy to say the least which wasn't helped by the slight shivers he felt from the brisk breeze.
Just as he began to stand up another man burst into the room. He was a muscular black man with braids and no facial hair to speak of. He spoke with a presence which was hard to ignore, even to those who discriminated against him.
" Have you heard the commotion out in the yard Lumiere?"
Lumiere looked up at him, his vision beginning to focus.
"Good morning Moses. Yeah sadly, no clue how people can be so rowdy at this hour."
He stood up to stretch and let out a soft yawn.
"What's going on down there?"
"Apparently there's a prince enlisting people into a special army or something."
"We haven't had a monarchy in almost a century man"
"I'm just going off what Wilhelm said"
"Yeah but I wouldn't believe everything he says"
Moses shrugged "Get dressed and we'll go look for ourselves.
After half willingly throwing on an old white shirt and a pair of trousers, the two of them left to see what was happening outside. The halls were emptier than usual which made them feel much longer to Lumiere, though this could also come from his lack of energy. As the two of them reached the courtyard, they were caught off guard by a section adorned in large tents, very much eastern in design. A distinct scent of charcoal came from them and filled the yard. Surrounding them were what seemed to be dozens of heavily armoured guards, each covered head to toe in armour and holding a rifle with a dagger taped to the side.
Amidst the chatter, a familiar voice called out to them.
"Have you heard the commotion out in the yard, Lumiere?"
Lumiere looked up at him, his vision beginning to focus.
"Yeah, sadly. No clue how people can be so rowdy at this hour."
He stood up, stretched, and let out a soft yawn.
"What's going on down there?"
"Apparently there's a prince enlisting people into a special army or something," Moses said.
"We haven't had a monarchy in almost a century, man."
"I'm just going off what Wilhelm said."
"Yeah, but I wouldn't believe everything he says."
Moses shrugged. "Get dressed and we'll go look for ourselves."
After half-willingly throwing on an old white shirt and a pair of trousers, the two of them left to see what was happening outside. The halls were emptier than usual, which made them feel much longer to Lumiere—though that could've just been his lack of energy.
When they reached the courtyard, what caught them off guard was a corner where large tents had been set up—eastern in design, with a distinct scent of charcoal drifting from them and filling the yard. Dozens of heavily armored guards stood around the area, covered head to toe, each holding a rifle with a dagger crudely taped to the side.
Amidst the chatter, a familiar voice called out to them.
"What's happening, Wilhelm?" Lumiere asked.
"You see that guy over there?" Wilhelm said, pointing.
He gestured toward an Asian man roughly their age, maybe slightly older. The man wore lavish black and dark red armor, adorned with intricate patterns and a cotton-lined collar. A large polearm rested on his back, though the head was obscured by what looked like a mop. Upon his head sat a crown made of feathers and assorted ornaments—strange and alien to most Parisians.
"Apparently he's a prince from the Qing Empire, and he's recruiting people for some kind of army," Wilhelm explained.
"Why here of all places? And if he's a prince, doesn't he already have his own army?"
"We've all got questions, but right now, no one knows anything. I talked to a guy who said he's one of the prince's retainers—told me the prince is gonna give a speech soon."
"Well," Moses said, nodding toward the center of the courtyard, "looks like something's about to happen."
Around a dozen of the armored soldiers marched in unison toward the center of the yard. The prince stepped in front of them with a few retainers beside him, while the rest of the Qing soldiers surrounded the courtyard—almost as if they were trapping the students inside.
As the noise died down, the prince began to speak.
"My name is Tao-Da, third prince of the Qing dynasty. As you may know, Jerusalem has fallen prey to the Ottoman Empire. Alongside its fall has come the subjugation and slaughter of Christians and all who disobey the Sultan. This oppression must be stopped—for the benefit of all who believe in God."
A voice rang out from the crowd. "Why are you here then?"
Tao-Da cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Well," he said, "due to a lack of interest in this issue from both the public and the main military forces of Qing, I've come to an arrangement with the French government. Myself and my personal army have been granted permission to draft young men like yourselves into our ranks. With your consent, of course."
"Why France?" someone else called.
The prince sighed, visibly exhausted by the questions. One of his retainers stepped forward and motioned for Tao-Da to step back.
"We went to the Vatican initially," the retainer said, "but the most willing to support our crusade was the Cardinal of Paris, who connected us with the French government."
Murmurs broke out again across the courtyard.
The retainer raised his voice. "The purpose of the crusade is simple. Kill the Sultan and seize control of Jerusalem—for the Qing dynasty."
The crowd erupted in a wave of murmuring and debate—some questioning the morality of the mission, others whether it aligned with Christian values at all.
"Silence!" the retainer barked, and the soldiers echoed his cry.
"The prince has no allegiance to any religion involved in this conflict. He is doing this out of compassion for those who have suffered under Ottoman oppression. Under our rule, all will prosper."
The retainer stepped forward again, his voice ringing out across the courtyard.
"As our prince has already stated, this endeavor will not be compulsory for any of you. However, we assure you there are benefits for those who choose to enlist in our crusade."
Moses raised his voice. "What sort of compensation are we talking about?"
The retainer coughed—a dry, deliberate sound—as if to give himself a moment.
"Well, naturally, such a mission carries its share of risks," he said smoothly. "We've taken this into account and prepared a generous offer."
He paused for effect.
"Each volunteer will receive one million francs… and a sizable plot of land to suit."
A ripple went through the crowd. Murmurs broke out, louder this time—equal parts shock and suspicion.
"Details of the mission will be distributed once enlistment has ceased," the retainer continued. "So I urge you all to consider your options carefully before walking away."
Chatter returned to the courtyard like a wave. Some of the more anxious students left immediately, while others—cocky or reckless—stepped forward to enlist without a second thought.
Wilhelm scoffed as he watched a group surge toward the prince.
"For God's sake. Of course August is already up there. That uptight little rat's bound to get himself killed."
Moses chuckled. "Your brother never was the brightest... or humble, for that matter."
"Yeah, well, he was spoiled rotten," Wilhelm spat. "I get that we're rich, but it's no excuse for turning out like that."
"I guess that means you've got no reason to enlist then, right?" Moses asked.
Wilhelm faked a yawn and leaned back, trying to play it cool. "I'll do whatever you two do. No point going off on some adventure alone if I've got no one to spend the spoils with."
Moses grinned. "Well, I'm not too fussed about the religious side of things, but a million francs would be nice. You're Christian, Lumiere—what's your take?"
Lumiere snapped to attention, as if he'd completely zoned out.
"Yeah, well... I was raised by a priest. My parents died before I was born. But he used to tell me my mother always dreamed of traveling. Maybe if I do this, it'll bring her some peace."
"Maybe," Moses said, softer now, "but not if you get yourself killed."
"Oh well," Lumiere shrugged, "better to live life to the fullest, right?"
Wilhelm grinned. "C'mon, Moses—real men aren't afraid of dying."
Moses scoffed. "I'm not. I'm just saying—you gotta treat this like a job, not a holiday."
"Of course I do," Wilhelm said with a smirk. "I'm just saying... the traveling's a nice bonus."
Lumiere let out a quiet sigh, his eyes lingering on the armored figures in the courtyard. In truth he didn't want to go out and risk his life for people he's never met, after all he's an 18 year old literature student. He thought back however, both of his parents were dead and the priest who had raised him since he was a child had also died recently. All he had in that moment was Moses and Wilhelm and he didn't want them to leave without him.
"Yeah… I'm gonna do it," he said finally. "It'll give me something to tell my future kids about."
Wilhelm smirked. "Alright, I'm coming too. Gotta look out for my little brother anyway."
The two of them turned their eyes toward Moses, the unspoken pressure heavy in the air.
Moses sighed. "No need to be dramatic. Yeah, I'm coming. The money'll help out my village anyway."
Wilhelm raised a brow. "Since when did you come from a village?"
Moses shot him a grin. "Since when were rich boys like you so rough looking?"
The three of them waited in a line for about half an hour before being let into the tent for enlistment.
They each entered once at a time. Inside sat the retainer with a miniature dagger on the table.
The retainer said the same thing to each of them "Use this blade to cut open your hand. Then use your ink to write out your signature."
Moses did the deed without a problem. He was the first of the three to do so and his demeanour was if he didn't even feel it.
Wilhelm also did it without an issue. In fact the prospect of another scar on his body excited him, not that he needed any more.
The last to finish was Lumiere. He had watched his father figure die slowly not too long ago so the thought of blood made his head feel light. He began to regret his decision as he knew the violence to come but he also thought about being without his companions so in the end he sucked up his emotions and quickly withdrew the blood.
Once they had signed up they were escorted into an abandoned hall of the university. At the front of the hall stood the prince who seemed to have a second wave of confidence after his mental short circuit prior. His retainer was noticeably absent as he was busy signing papers and documents. All of the enlistees were assigned seats and were urged to stay silent by the soldiers.
Tao-Da hit his chest lightly with his fist, trying to hype himself up.
"We appreciate your assistance—and your personal sacrifice—in joining our cause. Whether you came here for religious reasons, money, or something personal, I want you to know that your choice is valued and respected."
He looked around the silent hall, confused for a moment, before remembering he'd ordered the guards to keep everyone quiet. He cleared his throat awkwardly and continued.
"As of today, you are all soldiers in my private army. In two days, we'll travel to Marseille. That's where you'll be given with your equipment for combat and board my personal warship. From there, we'll head to Jerusalem. Our first stop will be Cyprus, where we've been in contact with a small resistance group scheming against the Ottomans."
He hesitated briefly, as if choosing his words carefully.
"Of course… you won't be on the front lines right away. You'll serve in support roles—on the flanks, in reserve—but your presence will matter."
He thinks how to end his speech but his mind goes blank and he internally panics slightly.
"So… I'll leave you all now to your own devices."
He slowly steps back off the stage as he speaks.
"Remember to be in the courtyard by 6 am in two days so be sure to spend time with your loved ones… you may be on the sidelines but there's still a very real risk to your livelihood.
He quickly leaves the hall and rushes back to his tent once the masses of the room divert their attention from him in their chatter. Once back to his tent he scrambled for a scroll and a pen in order to write home to his father
"Dear father, This morning I've at last been able to find support in my plan of liberating Jerusalem. I understand your doubts in my endeavours but I promise you that the Holy lands will be a vital and worthwhile investment to your dynasty. Please have faith in me my lord, I understand your lack of belief in me but I promise that my conquest of this land will make you proud."
After sending a carrier bird to deliver his message, he lays around til nightfall. Be had a burning weight in his mind that he should have more agency in his preparation but he remembered his retainer's assurance that all the planning would be dealt with. He still felt a relative shame however.
The next day, Lumiere, Moses and Wilhelm were preparing for their departure.
Wilhelm sat at the table writing a letter home to his family back in England, he also wrote a letter from his brother as he knew August wouldn't do it himself.
Moses and Lumiere were more concerned with packing important items. Lumiere made sure to bring a set of marble prayer beads passed down from his father figure before he died. It was his prized possession and he knew that he wanted to die with it around his neck, if that's what the situation came to.
Lumiere looked puzzlingly at Moses who did not appear to be packing any keepsakes of his own.
"Don't you have anything other than clothes you wanna bring with you Moses?" Lumiere asked
Moses sighed slightly but not nearly enough to be heard.
"I don't own anything too important. When I moved here from my tribe a couple years ago I was in a rush so I didn't think to bring anything with me"
Wilhelm cut in "Where are you actually from anyway dude. Seriously, what's the deal with your tribe?"
"Well" said Moses "There's not much to say. I used to live in a tribe in southern Egypt, eventually the Ottomans found us, they decided the only just course of action was pillaging and slavery."
"So how are you here?" asked Lumiere
"We lived by the coast so they came by boat. It was dark and there was chaos so I snuck onto one. That boat just happened to be heading to France and filled with stolen riches. I took some which was enough to get me enrolled in this university, after I escaped the boat of course.
"And what about the rest of your tribe?"
"Apparently most of them are being held in a slave house, somewhere in America."
Wilhelm cuts in again "So you want the money to buy them back?"
Moses grinned "That's about it"
That night, Lumiere stood by the window while the other two slept. He stared intently at the necklace in his hands. He couldn't help but feel fear at the prospect of fighting in a war. His priest always told him that strength came through God, and that he would prosper as long as he held close to his faith. He believed this, but he couldn't help fearing for his life—and the lives of his companions. He got little sleep that night.
The next morning was even colder than the last. The grass outside was frosted, and icicles lined the upper walls of the campus. The nearby train station was filled to the brim with young men eager to embark on the crusade.
Lumiere tucked himself into the corner of his seat, a large cotton scarf wrapped tightly around his face. He leaned against the window, trying to get some sleep before having to go to war.
Moses sat beside him, reading a newspaper article about places he might stay in North America. The conversation from the day before had excited him about the prospect of freeing his tribe and living somewhere with them in the mountains. In truth, he was letting his imagination run wild.
Outside the window, Wilhelm was getting into a fight with August over something unimportant—though it culminated in his younger brother trying to hit him with a stick.
Tao-Da was at the rear of the train, attempting to order his new soldiers to settle down. Eventually, he conceded to the chaotic environment and left the duty of management to his retainer. He boarded the train instead, making an attempt to converse with the students, who were roughly his age.
As the train departed Paris, Wilhelm finally arrived and sat opposite Moses and a now half-asleep Lumiere.
He glanced at his sleeping friend's half-eaten food—and quickly snatched it, unnoticed.
"It's a bad habit to steal, my friend!"
Wilhelm turned, startled, to see none other than the prince standing behind him.
"May I take a seat?" Tao-Da asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly.
Wilhelm saw his life flash before his eyes and nearly pissed himself. It wasn't until a few awkward seconds passed that Moses looked up from his newspaper and responded.
"Of course you can, sir."
He gave Wilhelm a slight scowl. Wilhelm, now composed, clenched through the embarrassment.
The prince sat beside him, an uncomfortable smile glued to his face. For the next few minutes, not a single word was exchanged.
Finally—after what felt like hours—Moses broke the silence.
"So… what interests you about Jerusalem?"
Tao-Da jumped slightly, but responded quickly.
"I just hate to see the oppression of entire groups of people."
He scratched his neck before continuing.
"People don't generally have the best impression of the dynasty, you see… It causes problems with trade and hurts our economy, which makes my father angry. That anger usually lands on me and my sisters. Our older brother Lao used to protect us, but he was assassinated recently."
He paused.
"I'm hoping this crusade will improve our international standing. If it does, maybe my father will be easier on them."
Moses blinked, taken aback.
"Don't you think that's a bit personal to tell people you've just met?"
Tao-Da looked puzzled. "I guess so. But you're the first people I've been able to say any of this to. Besides, you're my trusted soldiers now."
"In that case, I've got a question," said Wilhelm. "Pardon my bluntness, but… shouldn't this whole crusade be for a larger reason than just, well, domestic abuse? Wouldn't diplomacy solve that better than war?"
Tao-Da raised his voice slightly. "You don't understand."
He paused, eyes darting.
"Sorry. It's more than just my own reasons. It's for my people—who are living in poverty—and for those in Jerusalem who are being oppressed."
Wilhelm leaned back slightly. "Yeah… that makes sense. My apologies."
His terror was obvious to everyone—except Tao-Da, who remained blissfully unaware.
Lumiere stirred as the train passed through a snowy valley, the muffled thunder of steel on track soothing in its rhythm. He blinked at the others—Tao-Da stiff and awkward, Moses calm but unreadable, Wilhelm fidgeting.
"This still feels like a dream," he mumbled, voice hoarse.
Tao-Da looked at him. "If it is, I hope it's a good one."
Nobody responded.
The train screamed through a tunnel, and the world outside disappeared into darkness.
It was a warm afternoon a day later when they arrived in Marseille. They had no time to spare, as their ship was set to depart in the evening hours.
The majority of the men immediately went to the ship to secure better rooms. Little did they know that those who assisted in moving supplies such as weapons and explosives were rewarded with the higher-quality accommodations.
Tao-Da decided that this was a good opportunity to bring his new comrades to the market to buy some miscellaneous items.
Moses walked off to buy some poultry, knowing it would be sparse on the voyage.
Lumiere and the prince went deeper into the market to see if they could get Tao-Da's polearm sharpened.
Wilhelm stood by the dock, watching the sun slowly begin to set. As the sky grew darker, a slight ray of sunlight happened to beam into his eye from beside him. He quickly looked toward the source, but the dense crowd made it hard to identify anything unusual.
As the crowd slowly parted, one constant remained: someone was staring at him. They were too far away to make out clearly. It seemed to be a fully cloaked figure wearing a mask, and upon closer inspection, the mask appeared to be a mirror.
Wilhelm gestured at the figure to see if it would react, but it remained still.
After a while, Moses returned. Wilhelm quickly looked away, but when he darted his eyes back, the figure was gone.
"What's up with you?" asked Moses.
A cold sweat ran down Wilhelm's forehead.
"Nah… just my imagination."
Moses patted his shoulder.
"You're probably just stressed. Let's get to the ship—it should be departing as soon as the prince and Lumiere are done."
"Yeah you're right…"
The ship left around an hour later.
The three men sat underneath the deck trying to play cards.
As the ship swayed slowly, Lumiere felt himself gradually growing more nauseous.
"Are you doing alright?" Asked Moses
Lumiere tried to form the word "I…"
Wilhelm interrupted him "Obviously he isn't doing alright dude, he's never even been on a boat before"
Moses scoffed "Yeah but I wasn't that bad on my first time"
Wilhelm sighed
"Yeah, but you're a special case."
Lumiere in the heat of the moment quickly sprinted up to the deck in order to vomit overboard.
Both of them chuckled
"I swear he's such a bumpkin" Wilhelm laughed
"Yeah but you can't blame him, he lived in a small alpen village most of his life"
The two of them continued playing cards for a couple more minutes. They heard a commotion begin above the deck but they assumed that it was just drunk celebrations. Slowly however the shouts turned into streams and footsteps into loud stamps and clatter.
The two of them ran upstairs to see Lumiere passed out from sea sickness. They look over to see a large group of the men forming a circle the size of half the dock, many of these men were the prince's actual warriors.
Wilhelm propped Lumiere up on his back and they went towards the ever growing crowd.
The atmosphere felt thick for all of them but especially Wilhelm, his chest felt heavy and his knees weak.
That's where he once again saw the masked figure. Its cloak parted to reveal a muscular body wielding an axe. Around 9 men lay by his feet, all dead.
One soldier charges at him with a spear. He evaded the assault, snapped the weapon in two, and plunged the broken tip into the soldier's neck.
Another man dashes at him from behind and wraps a rope around his neck. The masked man struggles for a second before reaching behind his head and snapping the soldier's neck.
In the brief period of relief the masked man felt, another soldier drew a pistol and aimed it in the man's face at direct point blank range.
Wilhelm's breath caught in his throat. The soldier with the gun—was August.
He looked certain, calm, even proud. He fired.
But the bullets didn't hit. They ricocheted...back into the gun which made it explode in his hand.
Wilhelm wanted to go and save his brother more than anything in that moment but in his moment, his feet froze as if they were welded in place.
The masked man began wailing on August with the axe and his screams filled the air. Two more soldiers tried to intervene but their throats were also hacked away by the man.
August stared deeply into Wilhelms eyes. It was a look of despair, terror and most of all, a plea for help.
In that very moment a roar came from behind the masked man. Tao-Da rammed his polearm straight through the man's back before he could react.
The figure attempted to swing his axe back but the prince evaded such a half- witted attack and promptly slit the man's throat with a small dagger from his sleeve.
The collective mass of the vessel breathed a sigh of relief as the man dropped to his knees, that was everyone other than Wilhelm who cried his very heart out. The deep night sky began to pour with a heavy shower. Thunder screamed as the man slowly bled out on the floor and the rain water spread that blood across what seemed to be the whole deck.
Wilhelm passed Lumiere to Moses before trying to run to August's aid but just as he was about to reach him, Tao-da held him back.
The masked man's body almost instantaneously engulfed in flames, flames which caught onto August's body.
Wilhelm screamed "Unhand me" he struggled "He's still alive"
The prince continued to hold him back, all he could manage to say was "Im sorry"
In what seemed like a hellish defiance of the natural order, the masked man's blood began to catch on fire as if it were oil, to the horror of all who bore witness. In an instant, almost the entire deck was engulfed in flames.
Outcry and panic spread through the ship. Some men were burnt instantly while others dove into the waters of the night, not to be seen again. Tao-da dragged Wilhelm away from the scene as if he were a child and alongside Moses and Lumiere, they ran to a corner of the ship where the blaze was yet to reach.
Even as they drifted away from the burning wreck, Wilhelm couldn't look away. In the heart of the inferno, something moved. Something rose. A shadow taller than any man, standing impossibly still in the flame.
The four of them boarded a life boat in order to escape the raging fire. About a dozen other men managed to join them before they were forced to leave. They hoped to sail to a nearby island and then to go back out and rescue whoever they could once the ship had sank; however in that very moment a chilling thought penetrated Moses' mind. There were explosives below deck and almost on cue, the burning vessel seemed to detonate in a roar which threw the small lifeboat a few meters sideways and in the air. Everyone on the lifeboat survived. Nobody on the ship did.