Chapter 21

Rain ticked on the lone window in the headquarter. Eric laid on the covers of his bed, staring sorrowfully at the crude drawing in his hands. The legion first to reach Riverside recovered it from the wreck of his home, and he collapsed onto the ground when it was handed to him. It was a drawing from seven years ago. He, Victor, his surrogate family and his friend’s surrogate family were pictured standing besides a tree. Now, they were all gone, thanks to the cult.

Someone knocked softly on the door. Eric stashed the drawing away in his nightstand, and lowered himself onto the corner of his bed. “Come in,” he said. The door flew open. It was William.

Eric bit his lip. “Will? What’s the matter?”

“I wanted to talk for a moment, If that’s okay,” William said.

“That’s always okay in my book.”

William lowered himself onto the bed, a small space between him and Eric. He scratched his cheek, and coughed up a bout of air.

“Everything alright?”

“No. I’ve been feeling awful these past few days.”

Eric laid a hand on his shoulder. “Well, what’s bothering you?”

William rubbed his eyes clean. “It’s just… I’ve been struggling these past few weeks. I find it hard to motivate myself to get out of my bed everyday, let alone get started on actual work.”

With great difficulty, Eric shared his own feelings. “To be honest with you, I can say the same about myself. It’s like the world itself is out to get me. Sometimes I just want to walk away from everything, from all these duties and responsibilities that have been thrown onto my shoulders, but I can’t. No one is going to avenge them if I’m not here to lead.”

”I can see it in you,” William said. “You look as if you’ve aged ten years in the past few days alone.” He pointed towards Eric’s unshaven beard and mustache. Both were still thin, nowhere as impressive as the late Guildmaster’s facial hair, but that would change in due time.

Outside, a squall and a thunder announced the gathering storm’s arrival. “It somehow feels right, growing a beard,” Eric said. “I don’t know why exactly, but I feel as if I’m paying my respects better. To my family, and to Victor...” He lowered his face into his hands, and let out a minor sob. Deep within, grief overwhelmed him. He’s too young to die… He never did anything to deserve it, and they ate him anyway...

William laid his arm over Eric’s shoulders, a face filled with guilt. “I miss him,” he said, shaking his head. “He was such a good friend to me. Why did we let him go?”

“Please...” Eric’s eyes and cheeks reddened with guilt. “Don’t say ‘we’, I’m the one who made him leave, and no one else.” He shuddered, and stared down at the wooden floorboards, without the strength to look William straight into the eye. “Why didn’t Roderick believe me…?”

“But why? Why did you follow his orders? You’re the Guildmaster now, aren’t you?” William asked, puzzled. A gust blew ominously past the window; Lightning reigned the skies for miles around.

Eric threw his hands in the air. “He coaxed me into it. In the Justitian religion, one must respect the final wishes of the deceased. It’s very important to them. If I didn’t follow, we’d never get out revenge, but...it just isn’t fair! Now he’s dead, because of me!”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, Eric,” William said. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. We had to join the imperials, you said so yourself.”

“The morning afterwards, I wanted to go search for him. I wanted to tell him he could come back. Roderick wasn’t going to stay for very long, I could have hid him until then.. But I got distracted, and by then he had already left for home.” Eric shuddered; his blood boiled with anger. “We’re going to wipe this filth out, I swear.”

“Yes. Let’s teach that cult a lesson they won’t forget. Right?”

“They’ll forget soon enough, Will. I’m not out to teach lessons, I’m going to wipe them off of this planet. Do you hear me, you filthy cretins? OFF THIS PLANET!”

Thunder struck the surface of Terris the moment Eric yelled out his intent for vengeance, sending William, and even the window quivering. He clenched his fist, and felt a surge of power flow through his arm. Justitia had given her verdict.

“W-wow Eric, that was an awfully frightening coincidence.”

“Or was it?”

Hearty laughs and arms slung over each other’s shoulders, the two friends raised their spirits. “Just a week left, until the raiding party heads out.Have you made your mind up about joining, Will?”

William nodded. “Yes, I am joining the force. I can’t let Victor die without me doing anything about it. But I’m still nervous about the whole thing, Eric. You’ve told me so little about the attack. It’s not like the hideout raid at all, where we rehearsed the whole thing several times before..”

Eric clicked his tongue. “To be honest, the general’s told me next to nothing about the actual raid itself. Apparently Bellona’s going to explain her plans for the operation when you’re in Westedge, at least that’s what I’ve been told.”

“Bellona? Isn’t that the captain from-”

“Yes, it’s her. She’s a nasty person, I know, but she’s volunteered to take up lead, and I trust her ability.”

“But… what if she mocks me again, like last time?”

“Just stay calm, and do what you gotta do. Just enjoy slaying dragons, that’s the miracle cure for stress after all.” Eric winked at William, who smiled in return.

“Thanks, Eric. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, Will.”

“I’ll be going back to my duties now, if you are okay with that.”

“Sure thing. Good luck out there.”

William closed the door gently behind him as he left. Eric’s mind slipped back into the tar pit. A lethal mixture of overwork and grief had been last week’s order. On one side, duty’s call sounded, loud and clear, neverending. Those were the times, and hard work alone would silence it one day. On the other, no one besides William understood his pain. No longer was his surrogate family there, to send him support and encouragement, his actual family had left his life long ago, and no longer did he have Victor to cheer him up.

Dad, Mom and Sebastian, where in the name of the gods have you gone? Why did you leave me to fend for myself?

Life had been a struggle, a journey into the abyss and back. But at least now, there was hope on the horizon. When this war is over, and the cult has been stamped back into the dirt, a sunbaked future waited. A good career as Civil Defense leader, a network of friends far and wide, perhaps find a sweet woman to marry and have children of his own with. In the end, such is the ideal life.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

But, those were thoughts for later. For now, his mind had to stay focused on the trials and tribulations to come. And as such, he changed his clothes, and went for an early night’s rest. Dinner hadn’t been too long ago, but an early rest in these penultimate summer days, set to the oddly calming ambience of a thunderstorm was most pleasant. That grump of a general awaited him next morning, and Eric wasn’t about to earn his contempt. So, he doused the candle on his nightstand, slid into his bed, and let his fantasies take root.

* * *

The next morning went like any other. He awoke at the earliest sign of dawn, and changed clothes. He had breakfast courtesy of the cooks, held that morning’s roll call without much out the ordinary, and sent his men on their way. Nine o’clock approached; the time of the meeting. After a quick detour to his bedroom and the toilet, he made his way towards the court.

Alas, he was too late. The clock on the nearby Justitian Temple sounded the bell for nine as he walked past the guards. As mice from a cat did he sprint into the court, leaving stunned guards in his wake. Once inside, the baroness gave him a tepid welcome.

“You’re, uh, Eric right?”

“Yes, we’ve met before. More than once, I might add.”

“Yes, yes, that is, uh, correct. Please, hurry, before Stefan tears me to shreds.”

Agatha guided him upstairs, towards Sanctullator’s study. The hallway connecting the study was dark; no torches or candles anywhere to provide light. Agatha explained to Eric this was simply the way Sanctullator preferred his environment, nothing more. Nevertheless, it set a foreboding atmosphere, one whose purpose might not be so innocent as Agatha claimed.

“Who’s there?!” yelled Sanctullator as Agatha knocked on the door.

“It’s me, Baroness Agatha. I have Eric here with me.”

“About damn time! Come in.”

Eric opened the door, and shielded his eyes from the chandelier hanging high above. Agatha slammed the door shut, and ran away as fast as she could, the swift echoes of her feet treading upon the marble floor growing dimmer by the second.

“You know, I thought you’d be the mythical person that was above showing up late. But that’s my optimism speaking, and it has a habit of being wrong. So, welcome,” Sanctullator said. His arms were folded over the desk, one hand poking at the table with a pencil.

“My apologies, sir. I didn’t mean to be late,” Eric said.

“Yes, yes, the usual routine. I suppose it’s not too late, and I’m far too tired to pester myself over it, so why don’t we just get this meeting done and over with.” Sanctullator corrected his posture. “How are you today?”

“Oh, uhh, I’m fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary.” I hope.

“Good to hear. So then, how has your guild been doing these past few weeks? Is the recovery progressing well?”

Eric nodded. “Yes, most certainly it has. We’ve opened up recruitment, and we have plenty of new Initiates in training. We’re getting more done, and money’s flowing in like you wouldn’t believe. We’re looking into growing our operations, in fact. New quarters, better equipment, that sort of thing.”

“Good, good.” Sanctullator stared with a bored gaze at his paperwork. “Let’s get to the real meat of this. Have you managed to convince some of your men to join the operation?”

“Indeed I have. I’ve got ten of my men I can send your way. My best bowman is among them.”

A wide, grin spread out over Sanctullator’s face. “Excellent! That’s all I wanted to hear.” The general leaned back in his chair, smiling with his hands on the back of his head. “Everything’s exceeding plans. We have all the men needed, thanks to you and Bellona, and the required provisions have been secured. And that’s not even including the prototype we’ve received.”

“Prototype?”

“Look at this. Don’t put your grubby fingers on the trigger device, please.”

Sanctullator grabbed a black-greyish ball from his desk, and handed it to Eric. It was an object unlike anything he’d ever seen. Cold metal with thick grooves, and holes on the sides revealed a white orb in the center.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Sanctullator said.

Eric stared at him puzzled. “What is it?”

“That is a flash bomb. Allow me to explain how it works. Once the trigger device, that white orb, is touched from both sides, it’ll detonate in ten seconds. When it detonates, it produces a blinding flash, powerful enough to leave anyone caught within its blast sightless for half a minute. Now imagine for a moment. Our men can throw this thing into the room the beasts are hiding in, and then have free reign to hack them to pieces for the next thirty seconds. Amazing, is it not?”

“Haha, indeed it is!” Eric chortled with glee. A fantastic reprieve from the misery of his life, a gift from the gods themselves. This weapon was dawn’s breakthrough upon the world, casting away the darkness of the dragon cult. “How many of these do we have? We can kill ‘em all in a day if we have enough of these!”

Sanctullator shook his head. “We have this one, and that’s it. Remember, it’s a prototype. The men of the Weapons Research Institute are still perfecting the thing. Depending on how well it works though, they’ll make more. That’s why I asked you to be careful, because else it’ll be a month before the facility in the Core can send us another one.

“Ugh, that’s a shame. Imagine the good we can do if we had a hundred of these laying around.” Eric stared off into the vast rows of bookshelves. “Do you want me to take care of it?” he asked belated.

“Keep it here. I’ll have it sent off to Bellona soon enough,” Sanctullator said.

“Got it, your excellence.”

“Do you have anything else you wish to discuss with me, Guildmaster Eric?”

“Not anything that I’d know of.” Eric shrugged.

“Alright. You are dismissed. Off with you.”

Eric’s chair screeched against the floor, as he got up to leave. The guildmaster mumbled something underneath his breath, but it wasn’t audible. Paying no further heed to the general’s cranky attitude, Eric headed back to his guild.

* * *

A perfectly ordinary day of tiresome administration awaited him when he arrived back at the headquarters: Paperwork, new recruits to consider and integrate, hanging up new requests from the townfolk and those beyond the walls, all regular day to day duties of his new life. After eating dinner at his office in the main hall, he returned to his bedroom to unwind after another day of labouring away at the desk.

But not long after, without any work or other souls to keep him busy, his mind dwelled back into the tar. A melancholic atmosphere haunted the air, as he sank onto his bed, and fished the drawing out of his nightstand. His attention was solely devoted to the crude stick figure representing Victor. A tear trickled from his eye, as he gazed out of his window, towards the starry skies.

I hope the afterlife’s treating you well, my friend...