-One Year Ago-

Anatol held his hands up to the fireplace in an attempt to stay warm, the wooden logs crackled and popped under the stress of the heat. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t get warm. A sheet was wrapped around his shoulders, and he wore every inch of clothing the Daceria Guard provided. The gloves and thick pieces of cloth under the leather harness still wasn’t enough. He cursed under his breath, and questioned why he even joined up. He should have stayed on the farm with his family, but he knew that wasn’t much of an option either.

“Kid,” A ghostly breath danced in the air, vanishing in wisps. It was one of the three other guards he deployed with leading the mission, “I made some tea with Eato Berries to warm us up, would you like any?”

Anatol smiled weakly, “Yes, please.”

They both spoke in low whispers, another guard named Droif, the same age as Anatol slept peacefully in one of the small beds. He didn’t seem to mind the cold as much as the others. On the traverse up the trail he spoke quickly, with a funny accent, explaining that he was originally from Tridol where this chilling weather was normal all year round, so this was nothing but nostalgic for him. Anatol was happy he was sleeping, the man was very talkative unlike the rest of them. Yet Anatol found the sound of his snoring mixed with the chilling winds outside and the popping of the fireplace quite soothing.

The older man handed him a tin cup, and took a seat besides him. The cabin they were stationed in was in a remote area in the Ardenine Mountain range that overlooked Daceria. Daceria was the capital city of the Federation of Naradana, humanity's biggest nation on the face of Pantheon. It was home to hundreds of thousands of people, including King Phillips the Third and his royal family.

“Can’t believe they sent four of us out here for this mission,” Anatol spoke up, taking a sip from the cup. The Eato Berries made the liquid a brown color, but it was naturally sweet and warm as it went down his throat. “It’s very good, thank you very much.”

“Your welcome, it was my wife’s favorite,” He nodded, removing the fur hat from his head. It revealed a receding hairline, “I can see why they sent us. The generator to the city blew out because of yesterday’s intense winds. With the snowstorm coming in today we have to make sure the path is clear enough for the engineer coming at day break while also making sure no civilians come up here. Kendall should be back soon with some more logs for the fire.”

Anatol drank from the cup, his emerald eyes reflected the dancing flames, “Any civilian that comes up here tonight is crazy,” The older man let out a chuckle, and after a couple minutes of silence between them Anatol asked, “What happened to your wife, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“The local shaman said it was some type of Cancer,” He paused for a couple of seconds, looking into the flames. His brown eyes had many bags under them, he was visibly tired, “The medical center said it was some sort of blood disease. We didn’t even have time to register what happened before she passed. It was about six years ago.”

“I’m sorry.” Anatol replied. For another couple minutes they sat there in silence, drinking their tea.

The older guard broke the stillness,“This-,” He hesitated, tapping the brim of the cup with his thumb, “This will be my last mission out here.”

Anatol paused, he hasn’t known the man for long but he held a level of respect for him. He was much older, he'd been in the Daceria Guard for an extremely long time, and he was his superior.

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“I could live peacefully with my daughter and grandson. Don’t have to dye the beard any longer,” They both laughed heartily and he wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes, “I know it doesn’t mean much to you. You hardly know me. But you’re new to this, and you seem like a good kid. So I thought I should provide you with some of my knowledge.”

“Sure, yeah.”

He crossed his arms, “Well, as a young guy in the Daceria force I know it could get to your head sometimes. You can get any girl in the realm you want, free food, and you could sleep wherever you want. Life is good, and it’s hard as hell to get in. Which means you’re a part of the best of the best. But don’t let it.”

Anatol was aware most people in the guard were braggadocious, only worried about their own benefit and what they can take as their own. He experienced this after graduating from the academy, the recent recruits were changed quickly.

“I made the same mistake many years ago. A young man in Daceria, with the whole world in his hands. Took advantage and I ended up losing many people along the way. Us humans tend to forget the world we live in, we’re so stuck in our own ways that we believe we’re untouchable. No one is ready for war in Daceria, and the same thing is reflected across all human nations in Pantheon. We believe we’re invincible, but what happens when someone or something shows up to take that from us. ”

“Why are you telling me this?” Anatol broke his silence, and their eyes locked.

“Don’t be naive son,” He smiled again, taking his tin cup and heaving himself up onto his own two feet, “Don’t live life believing nothing can happen to you. All nations are at peace until they are not. Not all great nations last forever.” He held his hand out for Anatol’s cup.

Anatol passed it to him, with a warm smile. He felt much warmer than he was twenty minutes ago. “I never got your name, sir.”

“Brock Hollandse.”

“Anatol-”

“Anatol Rey,” He cleared his throat as he walked to the end of the room to put the tin cups away under the cupboard, “Son of Vancee Ray, former Dacerian guard and general. I read your report.”

“Of course,” Anatol nodded, still attempting to speak in a whisper. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“HELP!”

The bloodcurdling plea for help made the hairs on the back of Anatol’s neck rise up. Droif sat up in his bed, his long braided ponytail was undone in his sleep, “The feck’ was that?” He mumbled wearily.

Then another shout for help came and he sprang out of bed. The three of them quickly went for their swords that rested by the door, Anatol and Brock were the first out the door while Droif fell over getting his boots on.

“Bloody hell!” Droif’s deep bellow came from within the cabin, “Wait for me will ye!”

He was drowned out by the winds of the storm, it was so powerful Anatol couldn’t feel his ears and could hardly see Brock who was six feet ahead of him. The scream came again, and Brock attempted to turn to Anatol, signaling it was coming from the left. They traversed over mountains of snow that covered their knees with every step, unbalancing them.

Anatol lost his balance, and fell face first into the white fields. His face was numb from the piercing winds and grainy snow, sucking all the color from his skin. His hands shook uncontrollable as he took a couple minutes to get himself back up, but he could no longer see Brock.

“Please!!” The voice came again, but it was close.

Anatol’s heart pounded, it pulsated from his chest up to his head in hammering succession. It was like a drum, playing a constant badonkbadonkbadonk. He was freezing and scared. But he ignored all of that. The adrenaline was flowing through his veins, and his hands shook in anticipation of the unknown. He came across a tree, then another, and realized he was within a couple feet of the forest. There, on the circumference of the forest he saw them.

It was the other guard they came with, Kendall. Another young man, the same age as Anatol and Droif. The snow around Kendall was a bright crimson red. His mouth was open, as if he was trying to speak, but his eyes were lifeless. His hand was held out reaching for someone that wasn’t there, and his left ear planted into the ground. He was dead. His body disfigured in such a way that was horrifying, neck slit and his insides torn inside out.

“Adios…” Anatol couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The gust of wind carried a scent that he’d never smelled before and he dropped his sword, his hands flew up to his nostrils and he fell back on his ass. He could feel his stomach bubbling and he turned to his right, vomiting heavy chunks of meat and the eato berry he drank minutes ago.

Droif ran up besides him and his eyes shot open, “Bloody hell!” He touched the top of his fur cap and glanced at Anatol, “Where’s Brock?”

“Anatol! Droif! Over here!”

This would be the day that Anatol’s life would change forever.