-ebony rose-

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“Damn those lowly Vanixians!” the rotund and rather unpleasantly odoriferous Commandant of Rear Brigade slammed his fist down hard upon the table. “Where in Tartarus did those two-bit rebels get siege weaponry?”

The offensive man looked at me as if I had all the answers to this sudden downturn in our plans.

“You have the king’s ear, Sebastian,” he continued in accusation, spittle striking my face, “You surely don’t mean to tell us this is a complete surprise to him?”

I wiped my face with a handkerchief, “Firstly, you would do well my dear Commandant Fontaine to refer to His Majesty with reverence. Secondly, You’d best watch your words lest you be incarcerated in your own prisons. And thirdly, you should refer to me as Consular Bernard. I am one of His Majesty’s Roses and the Captain of his royal guard.”

“Self-appointed.” the overseeing consular of Rear brigade, Vincent Dumont, chided.

“The manner in which I was appointed matters not,” I countered, “His Majesty approved the form himself.”

“BAH!” Fontaine stood from his chair with a shout—and a creak. “I was here before you and I’ll be here after you. I don’t care what you call yourself! What in the hells is Forward doing about this? My men are being slaughtered by redcoat scum as we speak.”

“Consular Masson is still dealing with the loss of Lieutenant-Colonel Fenn. It would seem his death caused a small power vacuum in the Forward Brigade. I shall head to their location and gather reports for His Majesty as soon as my brigadiers are ready.”

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“Man… where did those Vanixians get their hands on all that siege weaponry.”

Consular Masson’s opener for our meeting echoed the one I just left in a strange manner, almost like I’d experienced déjà vu.

“Consular Bernard, you have His Majesty’s ear,” he continued, the conversation descending further into the uncanny, “were we truly in the dark about their capabilities?”

I pushed myself back in my chair and raised my hands in playful defense, “It appears the Vanixian heir was quite ardent in her efforts to maintain secrecy about many things, your Seventh Regiment and His Majesty’s own agents were unable to uncover the weapons as well as a purported next-generation heir.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Haaah,” he sighed, “I suppose it’s my fault for this lack of foresight as well then. Am I to take my own life now? Is that why you’ve braved the invaders to visit my office?”

I frowned, “I’ve no such orders. And truthfully, I’d never deliver such orders to you myself, I see you as a friend. You’re His Majesty’s Golden Rose, I’m certain you’d never be asked to do so.”

I hoped to assuage Masson’s fears, but my words seemed to do little to improve the man’s mood.

“I’ve actually come to gather reports,” I continued on, “I was just at Rear Brigade’s command post and they haven’t received any updates.”

“Updates…?” Masson’s inflection on the word was odd as if the idea itself made no sense. He sat up from the table and opened the doors to their command post.

“Raymonde, Joelle, the consular would like a report.” he called two officers from their seats, and they followed him back into the meeting hall.

Both men sat across from me at the table, staring through me with blank looks.

I raised a brow at Masson, “Are they alright?”

“We’re all doing just fine. All things considered.” his response lacked any emotion.

All things considered?

When prompted by Masson, the two men began to recount a terrible and gruesome scene.

Major Raymonde was stationed at one of the forward positions in the Maarin district. An hour after the first explosions occurred at the city walls, they were alerted by rapid pounding at the doors to their outpost.

When they opened the door, pure horror awaited them.

Half a dozen gendarmes were barely clinging to their lives. Some were missing limbs. Others were clutching their stomachs to keep their innards from spilling out.

Lieutenant Joelle had an equally disturbing story.

When the soldiers tried to describe what had done this to them, they said it wasn’t a what.

It was a single creature.

They called it an Angel of Annihilation.

When I asked about its whereabouts I was assured that they last encountered it on the other side of the district, and it had Vanixian handlers of some sort.

Another mysterious secret that damn woman has kept.

BOOM!

The four of us jumped from our seats as the entire building shook.

BOOM!

The wall furthest from me, which led out to the command post, was blown away. Splintered wood and dust filled the room, clouding my vision.

“What in the hells is that!?” I screamed.

“I-It’s got to b-be the Angel of Annihilation!” one of the men screamed back in response.

“O’ Great Darkness beyond the veil! Protect your faithful servants!” the other man prayed.

Figures were moving around in the other room and I heard the cries of our men being subdued.

“Show yourselves!” I shouted.

A woman’s voice called back, “Yeah, yeah. We’ll get to you assholes in a moment. Specter-Two, that wall just led into another room. Are you sure you know what building I’m in? We’ve been at this for an hour now and we’re more lost than we were at the start.”

Five women and two men cleared the dust, coming close enough to see clearly.

The woman spoke once more, “Stand by, Specter-Two. I’ve gotta deal with some posh looking Renaultians. You led us straight into some sort of military outpost.”

I had no idea who she was speaking to, but I recognized the one in the lead—the woman who’d just spoken.

She had crimson-red hair—the very same shade of freshly spilled blood. Proof that a curse had been laid upon her family by the almighty Gods of the Veil Beyond for the sins they committed against humanity—and violet eyes which were the result of centuries of vile human experimentation to emulate even a fraction of our great Gods power.

“The heretical demimonde of Vanixia.” my voice uttered unconsciously.

Our enemy, the leader of this rebellion, Airis Vanixi, stared at me with her sinful eyes.

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

One of the women, a blue-haired elven knight in crimson-red armor the same shade as the heretic’s hair, became nothing but a blur of motion in my eyes.

And then, everything went dark…