ARC 1 - SANCTITY

CHAPTER 1 - THE SENTINEL

Raegn wrenched his spear from the throat of the creature and black blood poured from the wound as it slumped to the ground. A few of its carapace legs twitched at the joints, but he cared not for delivering the finishing blow - the disgusting monster would bleed out all the same. He took the final steps to ascend the Ridge and gazed out across the desolate land before him. Normally he would revel in the fight, the snarls of voidlings quickening his heart only to be met with crisp satisfaction when his spear struck true. This trip, though, the voidlings were slowing his pace and amounted to little more than an annoyance.

The fire visualized within faded to smoldering embers and Raegn rested the bottom of his spear against the ground. Surveying the landscape may have taken careful coaching once, but dozens of trips had honed his eyes. He searched the sides of mountains that jutted up from the ground and studied the dark pools and jagged folds that stitched together the otherwise barren landscape.

The air carried the slight stench of decay, but the embers within spared his lungs the slow poison. Behind him, snarls and shouts echoed up the steep path and turned to yelps as steel met flesh. Silence blanketed the area and the faint breeze found little but dust on hard earth to stir. Raegn scanned every nook and crevice he could see, letting the world reveal itself through his senses until his focus was interrupted by a soft thumping. The pattering grew and soon another set of boots stood next to his own.

“What do you see?” Raegn asked.

There was a long pause as Raelle took in the geography as he had.

“No movement. I don’t see anything out there,” she replied.

Raegn scowled. His grip tightened until the shaft of his spear might shatter as he slammed it against the ground. Where were they?!

“Damn it!”

Raelle recoiled from the sudden shout, but stayed still as Raegn scanned the landscape again. They had to be there. Somewhere. His eyes darted between every shadow, but found nothing. His head snapped toward the gentle hand that lay upon his shoulder.

“So there’s nothing. It doesn’t diminish your efforts, Raegn.”

“Doesn’t it?” he snapped. “Who cares about our speed if we return with nothing to report? They’ll think we lied!” He pivoted and stormed off the Ridge. Raelle followed close behind, carefully weaving her steps around the dark puddles of blood that he trudged through.

“Well, if you’re concerned about that then what’s the rush?” she mused. “We could rest for a day and look again.”

Raegn rounded on her. The incline gave her the needed height to stand at eye level and he studied what little of her face he could glean from beneath her helmet. Her eyes were darkened by shadow, but steadfast. They carried a hint of the blue that filled his own, but were more akin to ice— a faint gray that matched the short strand of hair plastered against what he could see of her brow. Were it not for all the years he had known her the eyes would have led him to believe she was serious, but Raegn knew better. It was her lips that gave her away—a small crease at the corner that revealed a subtle smirk.

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“How long has our home protected the entire realm, Raelle?” he growled with no intent to wait for an answer. “Our people cry out to the Heavens to no avail, but we can be the answer! I want to be the answer! Completing this trip as planned proves there is a better way. It was supposed to change how we scout the Void entirely! Only you would mock me.”

“Which is precisely why I do it,” she teased and knocked her spear against his shoulder. “Someone has to keep you humble.”

Were this a normal trip he might appreciate her light-heartedness, but not now. Not when they had been so close. The days when things were simpler, when they could laugh and play and be in what a child might call love, were long gone. Age had brought the weight of responsibility and Raegn no longer had time for pursuing such things. When she had first become a Sentinel there was a small part of him that believed that with more time spent together they might bridge the gap that had grown between them, but after nearly five years he’d given up on that hope.

Raegn rolled his eyes and turned away. “Landon and Ulrich handle that role just fine.”

“Landon perhaps, but the Old Bear’s gotten soft with you,” Raelle said, her words chasing him downward. “After all these years I think you might finally be wearing him down.”

He scoffed, though it was true if he gave it enough thought. Ulrich’s methods of instruction had become less physical in recent years. Yet Raegn had learned the disappointment in his mentor’s worn face could weigh far more than the sacks of grain he had once hauled back and forth across the courtyard for his mistakes. He had hoped to make Ulrich proud with a successful outing at nearly twice the usual pace, but with nothing to show in terms of a scouting report the Old Bear might be amongst those who believed the whole expedition to be a fable.

They continued down the narrow path with Raelle’s footsteps echoing his own. Ten others had finished dragging corpses into a pile and waited in silence for the two to finish their descent. Each held a spear and shield and wore the deep red cloak of the Sentinels. Their armor was not identical, a privilege afforded them by their Sentinel status. Anything worn was tight-fitting and their armor choices were leather or thin metal. Even the cloak reached no further than the waist to prevent slowing their run. The trips were long, there were few resupply points, and they had to move quickly.

One Sentinel with a squared jaw and brown hair hidden by a loose hood stepped forward. “So, what news do we carry back to Bastion?” Landon asked between heavy breaths.

“We’ll talk about it on the return trip,” Raegn muttered and pushed past his friend. He heard Landon whisper something and there was a soft giggle from Raelle, but he ignored the mockery they’d likely made of him. Chastising his two closest friends in plain view was not how a leader demonstrated confidence in themselves. The rest of his vanguard waited in a half-circle as Raegn approached. “A good fight brothers and sisters,” he said to the group, “and a pace well kept. We begin our return immediately.”

Raegn glanced at the heap of dead voidlings. Some were made of carapace segments with multiple legs like massive insects and others were of muscular flesh similar to large, deformed dogs. Black liquid dripped from severed limbs and leaked from mouths filled with vicious teeth. Raegn ground his jaw at the sight. The Void thought it could hide and make a fool of him? No. He would have every one of the foul beasts die by his hand each and every time they dared crawl out of the Scarred Lands toward his home.

He swung his shield across his back and raised his now-free arm. The embers rose to crackling flames at his bidding, the heat surging from his chest and down his arm. A small, golden-white ball swirled into life at his outstretched hand and then blew outward, dousing the corpses in white flame. The smell was putrid, but satisfactory. Raegn let the fire in his chest fade back to warm embers and seep down into his legs.

“We move,” he said, and without so much as a glance to his rear began the long run back to their home.