14
This Day, This Moment
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At some point in the past few days, the land around us had changed.
Once, this may have been a lush region, filled with rolling green hills. But now, the sun shone down on fields of cracked, blackened earth and dead trees. There were no signs of life anywhere; not even the occasional carrion animal or bird.
We passed by several abandoned and ruined villages, relics from centuries ago. They were all in bad condition, covered in debris and with the roofs caved in. With the bleak environment of Garan, nature didn’t even stand a chance of reclaiming the area. It was a grim reminder that we were the first people to set foot in this land in a very, very long time.
“That’s about as cheery as it’s gonna get around here,” Kieran said, rolling his shoulders. His eyes darted to and fro from point to point, inspecting our surroundings. As the leader of our small scouting party, he seemed to have a habit of doing that. Still, I couldn’t really blame him; this deep in enemy territory, anything could happen at any given moment.
“Hah… what a pain in the ass. Was really hopin’ we’d stumble into something a little more interesting than just ruins and shit.” He sighed, wiping a hand across his brow. “If I stare at it any longer, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”
“Scouting duty’s never much fun, I guess,” I said with a shrug, shifting on my horse. “Still, at least we know the way’s clear, right?”
He shrugged back, giving a non-committal grunt. “Chyeah. Ever the optimist.” With that, he turned back to the couple dozen other riders with us, and raised his voice. “Fall in! We’re heading back to the others!” Kieran dug his spurs into his horse, and we all set off back the way we came.
As the column began to move, I couldn’t help but shiver. Even though it was high summer, and the middle of the afternoon, the sun was covered by dark clouds, and there was little warmth to be had. I’m not sure if I was just imagining things, but the desolation around us almost seemed to make me drowsy and cold. I hugged my cloak tighter around myself.
It took only a few hours to return to the rest of the strike force, though by then, dusk had started to creep in. The sun dipped low over the horizon, and the sky began turning a deep shade of red. Our camp had been set up in a large clearing of decayed forest, the skeletal trees looming overhead. Still, compared to the oppressive, dead lands around, the place looked like an oasis.
The moment we stepped through its palisades, the temperature seemed to rise a little, like warm arms had just wrapped themselves around me. The cold was still there, but at least it was a lot more bearable now.
At the center of the camp, the other mercenaries lounged about, surrounding one of many camp fires. They glanced up as we arrived, nodding and raising their hands in greeting.
“Yo!” Hicks called out, standing up and waving us over. “See anythin’ interesting?”
Kieran unclasped his helmet and scoffed, running a hand over his hair. “Just like you said,” he responded, shaking his head. “Fuck all but wasteland for miles.”
“Huh, ain’t that some shit,” Hicks said in response. “Still, at least now we know for sure—” He grinned broadly and spun around, facing the rest of the assembled men. “—The way’s clear for us to advance. We just gotta meet up with the others, then it’s a straight shot from here on. The Black Citadel’s as good as ours already! How ‘bout that?!”
The rest of the mercenaries raised a cheer at that, albeit a muted one.
Hicks groaned and let his shoulders droop a little. “Fuck me, are you a bunch of downers,” he groaned, shaking his head. He then turned back to us and shrugged. “Whatever. You guys go ahead and unwind, get yourselves something to eat. Big lad’s gotta be cooking up something right about now.”
With that, the rest of the scouting party dismounted, and dispersed throughout the camp, stretching, shedding their armors, and just taking a load off in general. Including those of us who’d just arrived, I’d guess that there were roughly about two thousand men or so here in this camp. Definitely a sizable force, much larger than what I’d seen of them back in Halem, but not even half of the total
Shortly after we’d left Geofu, Vault had decided to split the Black Hounds’ forces into a number of detachments; three larger, primary prongs, accompanied by smaller secondary units to act as rearguards, flank guards, and outriders. Ours was one of the former three, led by Hicks himself.
This way, he’d explained to me once we began our march, the Hounds would be able to cover more ground without exhausting our supply.
I wasn’t much of a strategist, but I could definitely see the merit to it; it would allow the Black Hounds to spread out and advance throughout Garan simultaneously, while still maintaining a cohesive fighting force. And besides that, a force of two thousand men would be much harder to spot than one of ten thousand.
Still… I couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious about the whole thing. After all, what about the two other detachments? We’d been lucky enough to avoid running into any big aberrant warbands so far, but could the same be said for them? Where were they? How were they doing?
I took off my helmet, and sighed, scratching at my chin.
Right. No use dwelling on those kinds of thoughts. I wasn’t a leader or strategist of any kind—Vault was. So I’d just have to believe in his plan.
Besides, I had a more immediate concern at the present moment. I walked through the camp, following the smell of sizzling meat. Ahead of me, I caught sight of Fat Edd, his sleeves rolled up as he tended to a black pot and a long spit with several rabbits roasting on it. A crowd had gathered around him, their eyes longingly fixed on the still-cooking meal.
He flashed me a toothy smile as I approached. “There he is!” He said by way of greeting. “Red, we were just talking about you!”
“Oh yeah?” I couldn’t help but grin back at him. “Only good things, I hope?”
He chuckled, grabbing a ladle to take some juices from the pot, and pouring them over the roasting meat. “Depends on your definition of ‘good,’ I suppose.” He shrugged, then changed the subject. “But, ah, what’s it matter, anyhow? After all that scoutin’ and shit, you gotta be hungry, right?”
My stomach rumbled, providing a far clearer answer than I could have given.
Fat Edd laughed, and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Then join the line,” he said, his eyes briefly taking a dangerous glint. “And don’t even think about cuttin’. You do, I’ll open you up like a lemon.”
“Ah… y-yeah. Right,” I said, raising my hands in surrender as I took a step backwards. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
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It felt strange to dine with the Black Hounds.
It wasn’t that I disliked their company; the opposite, actually. They weren’t bad guys at all, but man, they definitely were rowdy.
The whole time we ate, there was loud and raucous laughter coming from every direction. Several of the mercenaries gathered around in a loose circle around a short, stocky man, and an orc cheering and shouting as they playfully wrestled.
Even this deep in enemy territory, knowing full-well that we would soon be in the heat of battle, they still managed to find room for all this excitement and merriment.
I tried to imagine something like this happening in the army, and nearly laughed at the absurdity of the mental image.
Still, it felt… I dunno, relieving to be surrounded by people this carefree. They didn’t let the battle ahead consume their thoughts, nor what would happen once it was all over. No politics. No noblefolk’s squabbles. No rumors or innuendo. Just honest camaraderie.
As I sat there, resting my back against a withered tree stump, I couldn’t help but smile.
“You’re lookin’ pretty comfy there, Red,” a voice said from beside me, startling me a bit.
I looked up to see Edd standing over me, holding a bowl of his own stew in his hands. “Mind if I join ya?”
I nodded and shifted over, making some room for him. “Go right ahead.”
He sat down next to me, crossing his legs as he set the bowl on his lap. “So,” he began, “you thinkin’ about anything interesting?”
I raised an eyebrow, a bit confused. “Uh, sorry?”
He made a vague motion towards me. “Well, I mean, you’re just sitting here all by your lonesome, and you’ve got that look someone has when they’re chewing things over in their head.”
“Oh.” I paused for a moment, now realizing that he was right. Again, my mind was wandering, and I hadn’t even noticed it at all. “Well, what can I say?” I shrugged and sheepishly smiled. “I guess your cooking’s inspired me, is all.”
Edd let out a loud, hearty laugh. “Always happy to hear from a satisfied fan!”
We dined in silence like that, watching the others laugh and joke around the fire.
After a few moments, I spoke up again. “Hey, Edd.”
Almost immediately, five men and a goblin turned to face me. “Erm, Fat Edd,” I clarified, and the rest turned away.
Gods, it was getting hard to keep track of all the different ‘Edds’ in the Hounds. So in my head, I just began referring to him by his given name, Edwin.
“I… Back in Geofu…” I started, and realized that I wasn’t quite sure how I wanted to phrase this. “...I saw Edga… Y’know, Young Edd.”
The jolly smile left his face, his entire demeanor seeming to darken. “...Slick, huh?” He finally said, turning his entire body to face me. “It’s… it’s been a while. How was he?”
I thought back to that night, remembering his words and actions. After a moment, I summed it up as best as I could; “Getting by,” I said, repeating what he’d told me then.
“Yeah? That’s… That’s good to hear.” Edwin slowly nodded. His gaze was directed forward, towards the fire, but his eyes didn’t quite seem to focus on it. He looked right through it, seeing something else entirely.
I paused and scratched my chin before continuing. “I, uh… That stuff about his arm, and getting discharged from the Hounds…” I trailed off, wondering then if this was even any of my business to pry on.
Still, Edwin nodded again and answered my unfinished question. “It was a couple of months ago now. We had a job up around Feoh, and things got bad. Slick ended up saving Vault’s hide, but he got hurt doin’ it. So, you know, even after he pulled through, he couldn’t keep on fighting.” He leant back against the tree stump and exhaled heavily. “So that was that, you know?”
I nodded. “Yeah… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought—”
“Nah,” Edwin scoffed. “It’s all good. I’m glad to hear he’s getting by, if nothing else.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yeah. He’s a pretty stubborn guy. Y’know, I tried to put in a good word for him with someone I know, but… Can’t say for sure if he’s even gonna take that the right way. He did say he didn’t want anyone’s pity.”
Edwin laughed at that. “Shit, that sounds like Slick, alright.”
After a while, he stretched his back with a groan, and glanced around the gathered mercenaries. He groaned. “Speaking of stubborn and stupid,” he said, “think you can do me a favor?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
Edwin wandered over to one of the pots, then came back with another bowl of rabbit stew. He handed it to me and said, “Keane’s cooped up in his tent again. Far as I know, he hasn’t come out all day. At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if he just starves himself. Can ya go and bring this over to him, before he just passes the fuck out?”
“Sure.” I nodded, and jokingly added, “With the way you say it, it sounds like this wouldn’t be the first time.”
He silently nodded in response.
“W-wait, seriously?”
“Ayup. Best get to it, Red.”
I stood up from the ground, thanked him for the meal, and began making my way over to Keane’s tent. Since he was one of Vault’s own lieutenants, his tent was one of the bigger ones, which made it easy to find.
The glow of several lanterns illuminated the interior, which was much less messy than I’d expected it to be. Sure, there were several thick books and scraps of parchment strewn throughout, but it felt more like an organized kind of chaos, where everything had its place, and there was a system to the madness.
Keane himself stood hunched over a table, his gaze intently focused on something there. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn’t seem to have noticed me at all.
I cleared my throat to get his attention, and he started slightly before looking up at me. His green eyes were bloodshot, and were underlined by heavy dark bags, as if he hadn’t slept for quite some time. He blinked slowly before focusing on me. “Ansel? What’re you doing here?”
“Edwi… That is, Fat Edd sent me,” I said, holding out the bowl for him. “He said you hadn’t been out of here all day, so he thought you might be hungry.”
“Did he now?” Keane stared at the bowl for a while, before looking back up at me. He frowned, furrowing his brow. “This is… dinner? Lunch? What time is it, even?”
“Early evening. Sun went down just about an hour ago.”
“Huh.” Keane nodded, taking off his spectacles and absently wiping them on his tunic. “Makes sense, then. That means I haven’t been out for… Two days now, I think?”
“O-oh…” Gods be good, I cringed internally. “Uh… Are you okay?”
He let out a humorless laugh. “Fuck no. Just go ahead and leave that on the table, would you?”
I placed the bowl at the corner of his cluttered table, careful to not spills anything or disturb any of the silvery rings he had sitting on it.
“Say, if you don’t mind me asking; what’s got you so busy, anyway?” I asked, as I stepped back. “I mean, it’s gotta be something pretty big if you’ve been at it this long.”
There was a moment of silence before I realized that I may have somehow overstepped a boundary of some sort.
“Or… I mean—”
“No, no,” he waved me off. “You’re already here, so I might as well fill you in, if nothing else.” Keane paused to grab the bowl, and sat down on a nearby chair. “Tell me; have you noticed yourself feeling odd lately? You know, chills, nausea, fever, fatigue, general unwellness? Anything like that?”
I thought about it for a moment, before giving him a nod. “Well, yeah. Even though it was warm out today, I felt pretty cold and sleepy for some reason.”
Keane nodded back and pushed his spectacles further up the bridge of his nose. “Makes sense. That’ll be because you’re dying.”
...What?
“Wha—Wait, hold on,” I stammered, “what’s that supposed to mean?!”
Keane merely tilted his head back, taking a few large gulps of the broth, before answering. “It means exactly what it sounds like; you’re dying. All of us are, really.” He spoke with a calm, even tone that didn’t fit his words in the slightest. “You can’t just waltz right into Garan. You see, the Dark Queen’s sorcery doesn’t stop at just draining the land. It also saps the life force of anything living in it. Humans, elves, dwarves, halflings… Hell, even animals. As long as it has a heart that beats, it will be affected. And eventually, it will die. The further north we go, the stronger it’ll become, until we just start dropping without warning.”
He trailed off for a second, before continuing with a grim smile. “Though, naturally, our aberrants are invigorated by it. I bet they’re having the time of their lives right now, the lucky fucks.”
I couldn’t help but shudder involuntarily. Keane’s words more or less lined up with everything I’d seen and heard about the Dark Queen’s country. I vaguely remembered reading about previous military expeditions to Garan, back during the early centuries of the war, that had been wiped out to a man. Surely, this must have been what ended them.
Still, the issue at hand remained. “...Okay. So, what are we going to do about this?”
Draining the rest of the stew, Keane placed the bowl down onto the table, and picked up one of the many rings on it, offering it to me. “That’s where these come in.”
I turned the ring over in my hand, examining it. In all honesty, it didn’t look very impressive; it was just a simple and featureless steel band. “What’s this?” I asked him.
“Fruit of my labors,” Keane said, smirking faintly. “I didn’t spend the past fifty-something hours in here just for the fun of it, you know.” Again, he pushed up his spectacles and took on a pose, propping an elbow atop another, and lifting a finger into the air. “Our encampment here is protected by an enchantment, something like an ongoing magic-killing field I put up. Without it, we would all probably die in a matter of hours.”
He picked up another one of the rings, casually flicking it up and down. “I’ve imbued these to a similar effect. Pretty basic and crude, sure, but it’ll be more than enough for our purposes. There won’t be enough for even a tenth of our forces, but anyone in close proximity to one of these should be safe from the drain. So, feel free to hold on to that one.”
I looked down at the ring with a newfound appreciation, and slid it onto my finger. “...You’re amazing,” I breathed, more than a little awed.
Keane’s eyebrows shot up, like he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction. “H-hey, where’d that come from? It’s just simple enchanting. This is hardly worth that kind of praise.” He scratched the back of his head, looking surprisingly bashful.
“No, really,” I said. “I mean, I don’t know much about how magic works, or anything, but I’ve seen you summon fire and heal wounds. And now you’re even countering the Dark Queen’s work like it’s nothing! I’m serious, Keane. You’re incredible.”
He merely glanced away, and let out a somewhat exaggerated cough. “Whatever. Like I said, all that flattery’s unnecessary.” Keane paused briefly, then sighed, taking on a more serious tone. “To tell you the truth… This is what I’m good at. When it comes to actual casting—Fire and healing, like you said—I’m mediocre at best.
“But… you’ve pretty much saved my life like that twice already,” I said.
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He shrugged. “Despite what you might think, those were more or less just the basics. I’m pretty sure any mage worth his salt would blow me way out of the water in that area. But enchantment, alchemy, preparations? Those sort of things have a rhythm to them, you know? Everything works together, all in an order that makes sense. It flows.” He gave his pile of seemingly random objects another look, like he was confirming everything was where it should be. “I’ve always been something of a perfectionist, I suppose. So this sort of stuff is more my style.”
Before either of us could say anything else, a shout came from outside, followed by another, and then by several more.
Almost immediately, both of us bolted up from our seats, and rushed out of the tent. All throughout the camp, mercenaries ran back and forth, clutching weapons and wearing hastily-strapped and mismatching armor.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I asked one of them as he ran by us.
“The watchmen saw a force approaching!” he shouted without breaking his pace. “There’s thousands of them!”
My heart skipped a beat at that. A warband? Here? Now? We’d come all this way into Garan only encountering small packs of aberrants at worst. And now, at what might be the worst possible time, we had a veritable army coming right for us?
Keane didn’t hesitate. “Grab a weapon,” he said simply, before rushing over to the palisade.
I ran over to one of the many armory tents, gathering up a spear, a shield, and a crossbow, before making my way back to the wall, where everyone else had gathered.
Even with the camp in complete disarray, the Black Hounds still managed to form a coherent, semi-orderly line along the palisade.
I ended up standing next to Hicks, who held a crossbow of his own. “Hey. Pretty lively night we’re having, huh?” I joked, giving him a weak smile.
“Shut the fuck up and aim,” he said in agreement.
Everyone stood in silence for several long, tense minutes, our eyes staring into the deep darkness of the night, waiting for an enemy to step into our line of sight.
I heard a vague, distant sound, almost rhythmic in nature. As it slowly approached, I placed it; hoofbeats.
Then, out of the inky darkness, a single torch appeared. Sitting atop a large warhorse, Vault stopped at the front of the palisade, looking up at us.
“Yo,” he greeted.
I let out a long, shuddering breath. I could almost physically feel the relief from everyone else around me as the tension suddenly evaporated. Behind Vault, several more men and aberrants quickly began to gather, thousands of Hounds bringing up the rear.
“Ures’ balls, man!” Hicks cursed loudly, lowering the crossbow. “Would it have killed you to send a messenger ahead of you, motherfucker?”
“Nah,” Vault replied with a smirk as he dismounted his horse, waving over some of the men to take care of the animal. “But I did wanna make sure you guys weren’t slacking off on the job.” He paused for a moment, and folded his arms. “So, you gonna let us in, or what? It’s fuckin’ freezing out here.”
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“Think of it like chess,” Vault said, picking up a wooden peg and examining it idly. “You’ve got different pieces that do different things, and move in different ways. The goal is to capture the enemy leader, and break the other army’s will to fight. In the end, it all comes down to outthinking and outmaneuvering.”
Around him, the rest of the Black Hounds’ lieutenants sat and listened intently. I sat among them, feeling incredibly uncomfortable and out of place there, though still doing my best to follow along.
Five days had passed since Vault and the rest of the Hounds arrived at the war camp. In that time, all of us had begun preparing for the coming battle in earnest, carrying out further reconnaissance, preparing our arms and armor, and drilling, much to the chagrin of some.
With the rest of the force’s arrival, our army had swelled to more than eleven thousand mercenaries, human and aberrant alike. Though, even with those numbers, the task of fighting the Legion was still a daunting one.
Vault tossed the peg up in the air a few times, catching it again before placing it down on the map that the scouts had drawn up. It was rich in detail, marking out terrains features like hills, trees, and swamps in the area. At the center of it all, the Black Citadel sat like a bullseye, where Olga Discordia was sure to be waiting.
“Our main goal here is the Black Citadel itself,” he said, placing a larger, black peg atop the Citadel on the map. “The enemy doesn’t know we’re here, so we have the element of surprise on our side. It’s a good thing, too, ‘cause we’re gonna need it.” He motioned to a series of small, red stones set in a perimeter around the central black peg, denoting the enemy.
“There’s thousands of aberrants between us and the Citadel. And since the Dark Queen’s magic is at full strength here, the Legion’s gonna be damn-near invincible. Meaning, we can’t take ‘em on by ourselves.”
“So, our attack’s gonna come in two halves.” Vault moved a handful of black pebbles onto the map, pushing them towards the red ones. “The aberrants are going in first, and lock down the Legion head-on.” He then moved in more wooden pegs around the map, all painted with simple images of horses, swords, and arrows.
“And while they’re busy beating at each other, the rest of us are gonna wrap around and mount a cavalry charge into their backs, and force our way inside. By the time they realize what hit ‘em, we'll already have the queen in checkmate.” With that, he slid our forces’ stand-ins forward, all crowding around the central black peg.
Vault raised his gaze then, looking to the assembled lieutenants. “Any questions?”
“Yeah,” one man spoke up. “How much of the Legion d’ya figure is gonna be there?”
Vault didn’t answer immediately, instead picking up one of the red stones and examining it. A thin smile spread across his lips. “Upwards of ten-thousand,” he said.
Reese, who sat next to me, frowned and folded his arms. “So we’re gonna be outnumbered, then, huh?”
Vault nodded. “We’ve been outnumbered before. Just means you’ve got all the more incentive not to fuck up. Battle is all about victory,” he said. “To lose means you don’t shit, got it? So no matter what happens, keep on fightin’ with our victory in mind.” Then, he smirked, meeting my eyes. “‘Course, that means doing whatever it takes to win. We ain’t them noble knights, after all.”
The rest of the men just gave a few chuckles in response.
Even though that joke was at my expense, I couldn’t find it in myself to hold it against him. After all, this coming battle was just too important for any of that. And besides, Vault’s plan, relying on sheer, brutal forward momentum, was far from a bad one.
“If you don’t have any more questions, then go and get your shit ready. We’re heading out in the evening, to begin the attack at dawn. And you, pup,” he added, still holding his gaze to mine.
“Y-yeah!” I responded, sitting up straight.
“Try not to get killed,” Vault told me. “It’ll be a waste to have dragged you all the way here just for you to die for nothing.”
“...Yeah.” I gave a short nod in response, before standing up as we were all dismissed.
I walked back towards my tent, my mind still filled with thoughts of the battle.
His plan, his words, my role in this, all of it echoed through my head as I stood before my platemail armor, candlelight softly illuminating its surface. I ran my hands along the cool steel, feeling its contours and the ribbing of the breastplate. I lifted it above me, and slipped my head through the opening.
Then I took in a deep breath as I began to put on my vambraces. Only, I somehow couldn’t get the straps and buckles on quite right.
...No, I actually couldn’t even hold them at all.
I felt it start at my fingertips, a cold, numbing sensation that spread all over my skin, giving me goosebumps. I tried to clench a hand into a fist to alleviate it, but I couldn’t even manage that.
Gods, why were my hands shaking? Why did my throat feel so dry, all of a sudden?
I collapsed onto my cot, like all the strength had abruptly been sapped out of me.
Was this the drain? No, no way, it couldn't be. I was inside the barrier, wasn’t I? So why was it getting so hard to even breathe?
I tried to slow down my deep inhales, but it felt strange. Forced. Like the air I was taking in had grown hands, and was now trying to strangle me from the inside-out.
Even my teeth started to chatter.
And I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop any of it.
I tried to call out to someone, anyone, but I couldn’t do that either. My jaw only barely moved a fraction of an inch before the muscles refused to work outright.
Why?
What am I so afraid of?
I hung on to the vambrace tightly, as if it were a lifeline, until my knuckles started to hurt. And even then, I kept on gripping.
Dammit…! I can’t let my nerves get the best of me. If I screw up the Hounds’ battle plan because I’m like this, what then?
The Alliance might never have another chance at defeating the Legion. And how many people would lose hope forever? What would become of those dreams I promised to uphold? Would there even be a future left for anyone?
I grit my teeth and shut my eyes. I tried to clench my whole body tightly, as if that was going to somehow stop the chattering and shivering.
I…
Was I not cut out for this after all…?
No. Of course not. Gods, how could I be? Someone like me? What was I even thinking? How could I protect Eostia? How could I—
Someone’s hand settled on my wrist, taking the vambrace from my grasp.
I slowly opened my eyes, to find Hicks crouching down in front of me, sliding the armor up my forearms with surprising care. I hadn’t even heard him enter.
“...Hicks?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He looked at me in silence for a moment, before speaking. “You looked like you were having a hard time of it,” he said simply. “So, y’know, I just thought I’d give you a hand.”
I let out a sigh, feeling my body finally give way to gravity, and let myself sag back. “Thank you,” I said, staring up at the ceiling of my tent.
Hicks merely grunted in response, before getting to work on the other forearm, smirking up at me. “Can’t imagine you getting all this shit on all by yourself. Don’t you need a squire or something to help out with this sort of shit?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I admitted, smiling back a bit sheepishly. “Just, uh, haven’t had the chance to ask any of the locals here if they’d be interested, is all.”
He nodded, but didn’t let the opportunity to trash talk me slip him by. “Ah, gotcha. So that’s why you’re letting a humble mercenary type do the grunt work for you, eh, your worship?”
“Humble? You?” I laughed.
Hicks’ smirk spread even wider. “Fuck yeah, I’m humble,” he proudly declared. “I’ve got humility coming out the ass. Hell, with all the shit I put up with, they should go ahead and make a saint. Speaking of which,” he added, “what strap goes where?”
“The one on the left is the back strap, and the one on the right is for the side,” I explained, then pointed to a series of loops near the top.
“Uh… So, this one?”
“No, the other one, on my right.”
“Wha—? C’mon, Red, this one? Sheesh, how do you even move with all this on?”
I chuckled. “One step at a time, I guess.”
Even as we struggled with each little part of the armor, trying my best not to laugh as Hicks cursed under his breath, we managed to finish the job in less than half the time.
“This shit is scary, you know,” Hicks said suddenly, as he helped secure the breastplate. “I guess it’s just a natural thing. Doesn’t matter who you are, everyone’s gotta be afraid right before every battle. ‘Cause it doesn’t matter how bad of a motherfucker you are, you might just get unlucky and catch an arrow, or take a bad fall, or just wind up dead out of nowhere. And this right here’s gonna be the mother of ‘em all.”
He chuckled and shook his head a bit. “Some guys drink themselves blind to take their minds off it. Others go out where no one’s looking, and shit their guts out. So, I guess what I’m sayin’ is…”
I smiled and nodded, cutting him off. “Thank you, Hicks. I’m good now.”
He looked back at me, and after a moment of silence, nodded. “That’s good to hear, man,” he said. “...But still, whaddaya say we partner up for this one, watch each other's backs? You’re a pretty reliable guy, after all,” he said, extending a hand.
I didn’t even have to think about my answer. “Yeah, I’d like that,” I said, clasping his hand and squeezing down to match his strong grip. “I’m not gonna let us lose, partner. Just like Vault said; battle’s all about victory.”
Hicks smirked at that. “Hell yeah, that’s the spirit,” he said, as we released the handshake.
“Say, what about you?”
Hicks tilted his head a bit. “Huh? What about me?”
“I mean, is there anything you wanna talk about?” I elaborated. “It’s not really fair to you if I’m the only one who gets to air this kind of stuff, y’know?”
His smile faltered for a moment, his eyes drifting away slightly. Then, he shook his head. “Ansel… You’re a good guy,” he said with a soft chuckle, meeting my eyes. “I hope you get to make it through this.”
And without another word, he turned around and walked out of the tent.
----------------------------------------
Dawn broke.
Under normal circumstances, it would have been a welcome sight. A bright new day, with the sun shining across a bright blue sky.
But not here. Not today. This far north, the sky only shone a horrifying red, like the clouds themselves were bleeding out. And the waning rays of light that managed to pierce through that red haze only served to illuminate the massive black obelisk looming on the horizon. From here, the Black Citadel seemed so small, but its presence was larger than anything else.
An air of finality hung heavily in the air, like the stillness before a lightning strike.
At either side of me, the cavalry line stretched on, hundreds of men strong, their horses snorting pawing at the ground, as if they could sense their riders’ unease.
Behind us, the footsoldiers stood by, spears, swords, and maces clenched tightly in their hands.
I looked down the lines, at the fierce and determined men around me, so many of whom wouldn’t be coming back from this.
One last time. One final battle. I adjusted my helmet, licking my dry lips.
And then, in the distance, a horn blew, its loud blast resonating throughout the entire field. I could see tiny, vague shapes begin to move from the tree line at the far side of the Black Citadel. And even from this far, I could still hear the shouts and roars of the aberrants clashing against one another.
The first phase had begun.
“Remember, hold steady!” Ryam shouted down the line. “Don’t move ‘till we get the signal!”
I nodded to myself, keeping my hand wrapped firmly around my lance’s shaft. Beside me, I could hear Hicks idly whistling a tune to himself, and I couldn’t help but smile a bit. Someone, at least, was keeping his cool.
The seconds crawled by, each seeming like hours in and of themselves. I kept my eyes locked to the distance, watching as the aberrants charged into each other, their forms barely distinct from this far away. My ears filled with the noise of the battle, which somehow even reached this far: roars, howls, screams… The air rang thickly with it.
And then, a new sound joined the chorus. A deep, bassy horn, calling out in a single long note.
Phase two.
I dug my spurs into my horse’s side, and it shot forward, the rest of the cavalry immediately following.
“Charge!”
“Eat shit!”
“Give ‘em hell!”
I heard yells and cries all around me, as hundreds more horses carried us all towards the enemy with incredible speed.
I can do this.
—No.
We can do this.
Because everything up ‘till now had all led to this day, to this moment. Each and everyone one of us was worthy of this battle. We will defeat the Legion. We will end this war, once and for all!
I raised my voice, joining in with my comrades’ battle cries. “We’ll save Eostia!”
Then, right before my eyes, a ray of pure white light swept over the battlefield, tracing a straight line all the way from the Black Citadel to the far left of the cavalry spearhead.
For a single moment, everything seemed to stop, all noise ceasing.
And with a thunder-like boom, the light exploded.
Its sheer force made the ground heave underneath me, making my horse stumble and whiny in wild panic.
I heard countless cries and curses, stunned and disbelieving. And then I saw it for myself. A straight, burning line of destruction stretched on across the landscape, like a black scar. Whatever dead trees had been there before were thoroughly incinerated. Earth and stones had turned into molten red glass.
And before I could even come to grips with it any of it, I saw it happen again.
Another white ray of light, this time sweeping to the right.
“No! You guys—!” From the angle I had this time, I was able to watch helplessly as it sailed over the aberrants near the Citadel, back through the spearhead, and finally, over the crowd of footmen beyond.
There was a slight pause… And then the second blastwave rocked us.
I stared on in disbelief as the flash faded, and saw that everything it had touched was utterly gone from this world.
Gods… They didn’t even have a chance to scream before it vaporized them.
“N-no…” I breathed, looking on at the devastation.
“Don’t just stand around, dumbass!” Hicks shouted as he rode past me. “Get to cover!”
Somehow, that managed to snap me out of it. I hurried to follow after him towards the foot of a small cliff, where dozens of others huddled together from the light.
“What the hell is that?” someone called out.
“Does the enemy have cannons, or something?!” another voice answered.
“What? Are you insane? The hell kind of cannon can do this?!”
“The gloves are fucking off.”
“It’s a damn slaughterhouse out there!”
"Quiet down, idiot! You’re scaring the horses!”
“Fuck the damn horses!”
The panicked voices blended together all around me, though one managed to stand out from the rest.
“Hahaha… Holy shit. You gotta be kidding me…” I spotted Keane standing near the cliff, his head peeking up over its ridge. And against my better judgement, I moved to join him there.
“Keane, what’s… Oh,” my words died on my lips as I caught sight of what he was looking at.
Even from this far away, it was easy to make out. It stood at the very foot of the Black Citadel, a hulking figure made of dark gray stone, looming more than three stories tall like a god of destruction.
A dim light glowed ominously at the center of its chest, but then grew brighter.
And then, it shot forward.