After passing a small handful of buildings, the group reached the village square. Surely enough, the entire village was gathered there. Courtesy of the Emperor, an elevated platform made of fine marble sat in the center of the square, and a thirty-foot-tall flagpole rose from it. Atop the flagpole hung a red flag with the same image as that on Asher’s breastplate, the Emberland Flame. At the base of the pole, a naked and bloody man was tied by rope. Cloth was wrapped around his eyes and more was densely rolled into a gag, securely fitted into his mouth. Unable to move or talk, the man was surrounded by a vicious mob that shouted furiously at him. Distraught, Asher looked at the scene and quickly approached the mob.
“What’s the meaning of this!?” Asher bellowed out to the crowd. They quickly shifted their eyes to him. Their faces were filled with hate and contempt, which quickly melted away into empty stares once they noticed him.
“Your Majesty,” a man’s voice echoed from the crowd, then continued, “it is good to see you again, son.” An elderly man emerged from the crowd with a proud posture, strong broad shoulders, and a stern look.
“Answer the question, Kano,” Asher insisted.
“This man has been found guilty of heinous crimes,” he said. “He raped and murdered his mother and sister both.”
“Why he is he naked? It looks like some weird torture and bondage fetish,” Black Eyes chimed in.
Kano gave a slight smirk. After a moment, he returned his eyes to Asher, speaking directly to him. “Let us speak in private, your Majesty. If you’ll follow me.”
Asher dismounted and ordered his men to stay in the square. Kano led Asher to one of the taller buildings in the village. It was impressively constructed, painted red and gray, and reached twenty feet into the air. The front entrance had two side-by-side doors. The first room to the building had merchant stands filled with various items including fruits, meats, wines, and silk.
“Why here?” Asher asked.
“Strange things have happened the past few days, Asher.” Kano’s hand explored the texture of the silk in the merchant stand, rubbing the fabric between his wrinkled thumb and index finger.
“The apparent rape and murder committed against a man’s own family? That why you had him bound and gagged?” He pointed outside towards the scene. “Strangely enough I agree with Black Eyes about it seeming very torture-fetish-like.”
“A crime so heinous must be punished heinously,” Kano said.
“Violence breeds more violence,” Asher said. “Have him taken down and I will bring him back to Steeltower’s dungeons,” he commanded.
“Very well, your Majesty,” Kano replied, “but there is something I must show you. That same man brought it back here four days ago.”
“Brought back what?”
Kano gestured his head to the stairwell. He marched up the stairs with Asher shortly behind him. The second floor had the look of an office, containing hand-crafted furniture. Kano walked through the room to a black wooden door on the far end. Kano stood by it, gave Asher a look, then opened the door. A faint blue-gray glow emanated from the room. Slowly, Asher walked into the room, and then he saw it.
It was ancient yet futuristic, ghastly yet beautiful. It was two pyramids that met at their respective bases and extended opposite from one another. Its surface appeared as a blue-gray steel, but its hypnotic texture was of no substance Asher had ever seen. It emitted a trance-like hum that satiated and grated the ears and mind alike.
“It’s an Artifact,” Asher muttered in disbelief.
“I had never seen anything like it, but ever since it got here, things have not been the same, for better or worse,” said Kano.
“I’ll take it back to Steeltower. The castle can house it safely and properly.”
“You’ll get no arguments from me, your Majesty.”
Asher took a leather bag he found in the room and carefully placed the Artifact in it. As his fingers traced the face of the Artifact, the hum filled the air more intensely, disorienting him. He quickly stuffed it in the bag and sealed it. Asher turned back into the main room of the second floor, rushed down the stairs, and went outside the building back to the square.
“That’s what the fucker deserves!” Black Eyes shouted.
Half of the mob cheered while the other half looked on in fear and disgust. After a few moments passed, the mob shifted its position, allowing Asher a clear look at the man tied to the flag pole. The man no longer squirmed, remaining completely motionless. Asher carefully nudged forward and was overcome with disgust as he saw gouged-out eyes and a bloody gash where the man’s genitals used to be. He looked over to Black Eyes, who appeared proud and accomplished. Black Eyes turned his gaze to Asher and gave a contemptuous nod.
“What did you do!?” Asher roared as his face filled with rage and he closed the gap between himself and Black Eyes.
“Cut off his cock and stuffed it in his mouth,” he looked back to the dead man with whimsy, “and I guess he choked to death.” He let out a chuckle.
Without a single word, Asher smashed his fist into Black Eyes’ temple. Black Eyes crashed into the dirt with a pained grunt, followed by laughter.
“You’re gonna give Black Eyes a black eye? I didn’t take you for a poet,” he mocked.
“You fucking monster! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Asher screamed.
“Well,” he gently cupped his face and rubbed at where Asher struck him, “my face hurts.”
Asher glared at Black Eyes with fury, amazement, and disbelief. He darted his eyes around the villagers, all of whom looked at the pair with suspense. Asher looked back at Black Eyes and tried to calm himself. Unleashing anger is unbecoming of an Emperor, Asher said to himself. An Emperor does not throw a tantrum, no matter what.
“Why did you mutilate him like that?” Asher asked stiffly.
Black Eyes’ sarcastic and playful attitude quickly evaporated, and he gave Asher a completely serious stare while rising to his feet. He calmly and confidently inched his steps towards Asher, eye contact unbroken.
“I asked these people what he did.” Black Eyes pointed his finger to the flag-pole corpse.
“He is an incestuous rapist and murderer, I know. Kano told me. Is that why you—"
“Did Kano tell you how he did it?” Black Eyes’ stare grew ever more contemptuous and unnerving. He continued to inch towards Asher, now within arms’ distance.
“No,” Asher replied curtly.
“He gouged out his father’s eyes with his own bare hands, then tied down his own mother after pinning her eyes open.” Black Eyes’ voice grew louder, and he was face-to-face with Asher. “He forced his mother to watch as he raped her daughter, his sister. He raped his sister in the mouth and she choked to death! When he was done, he flayed his mother to the bone.” Black Eyes shouted at the top of his lungs, “That is why I gouged out his eyes and choked him to death with his own cock!”
Asher’s hostile stare was not fazed by Black Eyes’ speech. “You impulsively mutilated a person, and you did it on your own authority.” Asher leaned even closer towards Black Eyes. “I swear I will—”
“You’ll what?” Black Eyes interrupted. “You’ll lock me in a dungeon and do your best to rehabilitate me? Is that why you’re throwing this pathetic tantrum?” Black Eyes taunted, “Is that what you hoped to do for that savage?”
Asher’s rage crept up the surface of his skin as he harshly clutched the handle of his sword. Black Eyes refused to yield, clutching the handle of his dagger. Their eyes remained locked in place and both men slowly began drawing their blades. Before anything could happen, the Artifact’s strange humming invaded the air. Everyone appeared to feel the hum creep into their minds. Black Eyes, Asher, Garret, and Danny looked disoriented, whereas the villagers seemed debilitated. The hum started to increase in volume and pitch.
“What is—” Asher mumbled.
Before Asher could finish his thought, the villagers grasped their own heads and started to scream in pain. Black
Eyes, Asher, Garret, and Danny gaped at them nervously. The screaming lasted several more seconds, until all the villagers stopped, collapsing to their hands and knees, face in the dirt.
“What the hell?” Asher gasped.
Before anyone else could speak, the villagers all thrust themselves to their feet, and immediately started to brutalize each other. Eyes were gouged, limbs were broken, and heads were caved. Several villagers savagely descended upon Asher and his men, giving them no choice but to fight. Without thinking, Asher dropped the Artifact bag and drew his sword, slashing the nearest attacker. Terrified and disoriented, he swung his sword erratically at the others. Over a dozen villagers were mobbing Garret, Danny, and Black Eyes. Asher wanted to help them but was overwhelmed, dropping his sword.
Several people were on top of Asher’s body, clawing at him viciously. They looked upon him with inhuman, feral expressions. Asher felt a crushing pressure encapsulating his body and he struggled to find his breath. He used his left arm to block the attackers from his throat while his right arm squirmed to find anything he could use as a weapon. Somehow, Asher managed to find a dagger within the chaos, and took several moments to carefully and precisely stab each attacker one after the other. He plunged the dagger into whichever body part he could, going from belly to throat to leg. He frantically stabbed at his attackers, killing all but one.
The remaining attacker pinned both of Asher’s wrists down. He struggled to free himself as the attacker bared his teeth, preparing to bite him. Before the attacker could do so, Asher’s eyes were splattered with blood. Shortly afterward, the paralyzing and crushing pressure was lifted off his body. He rubbed the blood from his eyes, then looked up to see Black Eyes pulling Asher’s own sword out of the corpse’s face. Asher took a moment to collect himself as he struggled to his feet.
“Are you wounded?” Black Eyes asked.
Asher shook his head. Black Eyes handed Asher back his sword. He then wiped the blood off the blade on the attacker’s rags, then hastily stuffed the sword back into his sheath as he looked around. He saw Danny and Garret lying in the dirt, lifeless. They were grotesquely mutilated, making Asher feel a dense knot in his gut.
“They took many with them before they died,” Black Eyes said.
Asher looked around the village square and saw a swarm of dead bodies, many of which had been torn to pieces. Scanning carefully, his eyes moved from one body to another, and he gasped when he saw Kano’s severed head in between a pile of corpses. The formerly light brown dirt had been darkened by an ocean of blood. The once-shiny white marble foundation was now entirely dark red, painted over by death. Asher was speechless as he processed the scene.
“Excuse me, but what the fuck?” Asher cried.
Black Eyes ponderously glared at Asher. Asher glared back with grief and anger.
“What the hell happened?” Asher asked. “How did we get here? Tell me everything you saw!”
“Same thing you saw, I reckon.”
“Before I got tackled, I saw dozens of people fighting you, once I stand up, everyone is fucking dead! Tell me what you saw!”
“They weren’t just attacking us. They started to attack each other. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Black Eyes said.
Asher waddled through piles of body parts to find the Artifact bag.
“The fuck you got over there?” Black Eyes asked, fixated on the bag.
Asher dropped to one knee, reached for and picked up the Artifact bag. Black Eyes was about to try to get his attention, but Asher simply handed him the bag. Confused, Black Eyes undid the strap and opened the flap on top. He stood amazed and entranced by the hypnotic glow of the Artifact. It continued to emit the same hum in a less-intense manner, but Asher still rushed to close the flap.
“We need to take this thing back to Steeltower, now,” said Asher.
“Did it do this?” Black Eyes asked, looking at the sea of dead bodies.
“I’m not sure of anything right now, except we need to isolate this thing and Steeltower is the only place to do that.”
Asher took the bag from Black Eyes and walked backed to his horse. He gave the stallion a few strokes on its neck, then took one last look at Danny and Garret. These were the first people who have ever died under my command, he thought. And they won’t be the last.
CH 2 – Alexey I
Alexey was a Winterguard hopeful. At the age of fifteen, he was the youngest of the current round of recruits. He and the other ninety-nine recruits were organized in a large field of snow surrounded by stone ramparts and guard towers. Frost gathered in Alexey’s junior beard and the snow reflected off his youthful blue eyes. He and the other recruits wore white fur-lined tunics and dense wool pants: the traditional Winterguard recruit uniform.
To Alexey’s left was Anton, a twenty-year-old with a likable face. To his right was twenty-two-year-old Viktor, who stood taller than Alexey with an intimidating build and apathetic eyes.
Listening from atop the ramparts, the officers wore simple white and gray armor. Each of the one hundred recruits stood in silent anticipation as the Arch-Commander walked through the columns of men, scanning them one after another. The Arch-Commander had an impressive black beard and neatly combed black hair to match. He wore brilliant white and gray armor that softly clanked with each step. Alexey could not see his face clearly from his position, but the Arch-Commander towered at least a foot over every recruit except Viktor, and he was densely muscular.
“Every single one of you has decided to try to be a soldier in the fabled and honorary Winterguard,” he bellowed out. He continued to march through the field of recruits, scanning them intensely. “But we have yet to see if the Winterguard wants you to be one of Hers!” He stopped his steps and began to shift his glances around him in a full-circle. “The Winterguard does not want dastards, or inept cretins to be Hers!”
The Arch-Commander continued to saunter throughout the field, continuing to scan the recruits. After a few short moments, he reached Alexey and stopped moving. He faced his dauntingly large body towards him, making unwavering and intense eye contact.
“State your name,” the Arch-Commander ordered.
“Alexey Sokolov!” he shouted.
“How many years you got on ya?”
“Fifteen!”
Faint chuckles echoed from the recruits, scattered across the field in random locations. The officers leaned forward from the ramparts, watching the scene with pure enjoyment.
“What is so amusing about this recruit? Is it that he’s fifteen or is it that he sounds like he’s ten!?”
The laughter grew denser and louder, making Alexey feel claustrophobic, but he maintained his proud and determined stature the best he could.
The Arch-Commander looked at the rest of the recruits with a hint of disgust in his eyes. “What were the rest of you doing at fifteen? Half of ya were still getting milk from Mommy’s teat while the other half only just upgraded to a bottle!” The recruits immediately went silent. A few officers chuckled. “This recruit may be a child, but he probably has a pair of balls between his legs unlike the rest of ya,” he snidely concluded.
Alexey felt a sense of pride. That’s what you all get!
The Arch-Commander continued, “But none of you would be here, yearning for the Winterguard if you lacked balls. But it’s not balls that the Winterguard wants!” He pointed his finger in the air triumphantly. “People that have balls die more often than not, and a corpse is not fit to be Hers!”
The Arch-Commander walked back to Alexey’s position in the formation and stared him down. Alexey refused to make eye contact and continued to focus in on the head of the recruit in front of him. The Arch-Commander’s stare went unbroken as he seemingly addressed every recruit.
“The Winterguard wants brains and survival instinct more than foolish courage. Every Northern soldier that ever marched on the Winterlands was incredibly courageous, but every Northern soldier that marched is incredibly dead!” Laughter erupted from
recruit and officer alike. Even Alexey let out a chuckle, despite the Arch-Commander’s unwavering stare.
“You all know what lies ahead.” The Arch-Commander continued walking through the formation. “Your trial in the Frozen Forest happens at the end of our march. Your section officers will inform you of all the details during your march.” He looked around yet again, nodding with satisfaction. “As of this moment, you are dismissed!”
Earlier, the one hundred recruits had been divided into squads of three, four, or five, and each squad had been assigned their own quarters. Alexey, Anton, and Viktor now rushed to their quarters. The room was gray all over, with candles spread throughout. It was not comfortable, but it was good enough shelter from the cold.
Anton grabbed a flint rock from under his cot and struck it against the blade of his dagger to light the candles throughout the room. Alexey practiced the proper folding of his uniform, and Viktor went to lie down on his cot, using his fur coat as a makeshift pillow.
“Sorry the Arch-Commander gave you a tough time,” Anton said, looking right at Alexey. He sat down on the edge of his cot and started to sharpen his dagger.
“He gave everyone a tough time, didn’t he?” Alexey said.
Anton chuckled. The kiss of steel on stone echoed into the air as his blade slid across the sharpstone.
“The way he insulted the rest of us, I suppose he wanted to remind us that we aren’t as impressive as we think,” said Anton.
Alexey smiled as he stowed his uniform under his cot. He then pulled out a book he had stored there. It was leather-bound with the Winterland Snowflake sewn onto the front cover. The words Feats of the Winterguard were sewn onto the book’s spine. Alexey remembered his father giving him the book when the boy was only five years old, and he had read it countless times since. He opened the book halfway through and started to read it.
“Whadya find so fascinating about that book?” Viktor asked.
“If someone plans to join the Winterguard, they ought to respect the accomplishments of Her past soldiers,” Alexey said.
The Darkness of Dawn Page 2
