The Darkness of Dawn

by Braden Michael

  “Adrian, would you please search the upstairs floors for a new outfit for Elizabeth?” Vai asked.

  “Of course.”

  Adrian speed-walked to the stairs, disappearing as he ascended them.

  “Sweet girl?” Vai asked.

  “Um, yes?”

  Vai leaned forward, clasping her hands. “I think it’s time we discuss what you deserve for the role you played.”

  Elizabeth’s emotional absence faded as her eyes brightened and a smile curled on her lips.

  “Tell me what you want,” said Vai.

  Elizabeth furrowed her brow, appearing deeply contemplative. She looked downwards, twisting her lips for several moments before looking back up. “I don’t want to ask too much of you,” she said innocently.

  “If it’s within my power, and you want it, I’ll see that you have it.”

  Elizabeth shifted in her seat, appearing slightly less hesitant to speak. She briefly opened her mouth, but hesitated. After staying silent several more seconds, she finally obtained the nerve to speak. “I want to be a lady.” After the words came out, she looked at Vai with a hint of uncertainty.

  “I can do that.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course, sweet girl. I’ll write a proclamation on your behalf and give you land and a stronghold. Plenty of potential suitors will want to line up.” Vai smiled playfully.

  “Will I get to pick the suitor?” Elizabeth asked, smirking subtly.

  “You’ll be able to choose your husband. Most Ladies don’t have that privilege.” Vai briefly recalled her wedding to Peter. Her father had looked extremely pleased with the wedding, but not in the way a father ought to be. Her mother and siblings had not been invited, so she had stared out into the crowd of countless noblemen and noblewomen she had never met, with their everlasting fake smiles. Vai snapped back to the present when Elizabeth spoke up.

  “Do you know which stronghold you want me to have?”

  “Does Starfall sound good to you?” Vai asked.

  “Starfall? I thought it was Lord Tarlbeck’s?”

  “He’s not offered any meaningful help to the war effort over these past few years, and he is an elderly man with no true heirs to speak of.” How many Rockland lords are sterile? Vai wondered offhand.

  “I don’t know what to… I’m… I’m so grateful!” She popped up and gave Vai an enthusiastic hug.

  Vai slowly hugged back. “Not as grateful as I am. You went above and beyond for me, and you deserve this.” The hug ended, and Elizabeth sat back down. “I’ll write the proclamation on a scroll then send you back to the Robinsfort with dozens of riders.”

  “You’re too generous.” Elizabeth was giddy.

  Vai smiled. Before she could speak, Adrian’s footsteps pattered from the marble footsteps, then he came into the room with a handful of clothes.

  “There’s a room upstairs you can get changed in,” said Adrian.

  Vai turned to Elizabeth. “Go ahead, my Lady.”

  Elizabeth offered Vai another gleeful smile before she stood up and practically skipped over to Adrian. The two were both headed towards the stairs until Vai called out to them.

  “Adrian, I’d like to speak with you.”

  Adrian handed the clothes off to Elizabeth, gave her brief directions to the room he had mentioned, then walked over to Vai, his armor clanking with each step. She slid to the side and gently patted the seat next to her. He obliged.

  “She’s in a good mood all of a sudden,” he observed.

  “I’m making her the Lady of Starfall, for the role she played.”

  “Lord Tarlbeck won’t appreciate that.”

  “Lord Tarlbeck is lucky I allow him to breathe air and be the unappreciative weasel he is.” Vai sneered.

  “Vai—uh, your—your Majesty, how are—well, are you okay? You aren’t as I remember you,” Adrian said with concern.

  Vai was about to lash out but wised up and held her tongue. He’s right, she realized. Ever since she had dropped that pill in Peter’s drink, she had been completely inconsistent in her composure.

  “I’m not all right.” She began to shed a few tears and strained to maintain the clarity in her voice. “Ever since Peter… ever since I inherited his position, I’ve only had terrible things happen.” Her voice turned from sad to mildly angry. “I’m in charge of a war on two fronts, King Hiroshi threatened my family—”

  “Hey.” Adrian placed his hand on her thigh. “Your family will be okay, Vai.”

  Vai immediately began to calm down slightly. “I don’t know if I—”

  Before Vai could finish her thought, Adrian met his lips with hers with passion she had never known before.

  CH 34 – Alexey VII

  “The Rhoska farm is not much further. Your job is to make them donate their harvest, and you do not want to fail,” Petrenko barked.

  “What if they are foolish enough to resist?” Alexey asked, feeling like he was acting.

  “Don’t even bother planning for such an impossible situation,” Petrenko scoffed.

  “Meaning no offense, Captain, but so many of these farmers are even dumber than they let on. They may prove the impossible is possible!” Alexey said.

  The Captain snorted and cackled. “No offense taken, recruit! If they’re stupid, then we start breaking knee caps.”

  The Winterguardsmen politely chuckled but did not show Petrenko’s passion so outwardly. Would they dare stand up to him? Viktor and Anton would, but they aren’t Winterguardsmen, he reflected.

  As they got closer to the farm, Alexey grew increasingly anxious. If you kill Petrenko now, you’ll scatter the rest and then flee. But what if they don’t scatter? What if your knife misses Petrenko’s throat and he tortures and kills you for it? Despite the frigid weather, sweat was glimmering on his forehead.

  Viktor trotted up to Alexey and whispered into his ear. “I can tell you’re planning something stupid. Do I need to choke you out again?”

  “No, you need to follow my lead.” Alexey scowled.

  Viktor looked around to make sure no one could hear them. “Follow your lead? Tell me what you’re planning to do.”

  “The right thing.”

  “What do you mean, the right thing?” Viktor asked.

  “Just make sure Anton is on board.” Alexey trotted away.

  Viktor looked at him with stifled anger but held his tongue and continued trotting forward. He went to Anton and spoke softly with him.

  “We’ll be at the farm in a few minutes,” Petrenko informed.

  The group began up a low hill. Once they reached the top, the entire Rhoska farm was in view. Three massive grain silos stood tall adjacent to a large crop field. A modest fountain occupied a central courtyard with a barn, stable, and house surrounding it. A half-dozen people were walking around at various spots throughout the farm, carrying buckets, bags, or moving barrels.

  “This place produces more food than any other farm in all of the Winterlands,” Petrenko claimed.

  Still less than the average Northern farm, Alexey thought.

  “Recruits! Take point,” Petrenko ordered.

  Viktor and Anton glanced at Alexey with mild hesitation. Alexey passed everyone as he descended the hill. As he got closer, the intoxicating aroma of freshly baked bread began to fill his nose, rousing his stomach. For a moment, he felt the desire to seek out the farm’s food and gulp down as much as he could, but he refused to abandon his principles. You can’t make these people hungry just because you’re hungry, he thought.

  As Alexey entered the courtyard, he received several fearful glances from those nearby. The farmers were women of various ages and a few young boys. They were all working on similar tasks involving manual labor. Where’re all the men? Any doubts he had about stopping the Winterguard immediately evaporated: when it was the right time, he needed to make a move. Alexey looked back at Viktor and Anton, his eyes telling them that he was currently planning something. They looked back at him with uncer
tainty, but a lack of protest. If I make a move, they better back me up.

  Alexey stopped right in the center of the courtyard. “I must speak with the head of this farm, immediately.”

  The eldest woman muttered at the children, who all abandoned their tasks and ran into the house. She then shambled over to Alexey, stopping ten feet in front of him. She wore a dirty linen coat and thick wool pants, but still shivered in the cold Winterland air.

  “Where’s the head of your farm?” Alexey asked.

  “That’s me, ever since my husband passed.” Her voice was frail, stifled by the cold.

  Alexey disguised the shame he felt, maintaining his appearance of determination. Anton, and Viktor were shortly behind him to the left, and Petrenko and the other Winterguardsmen were behind to his right. Petrenko crossed his arms and glared Alexey down, anxious to see his next move.

  “Tell me your name,” Alexey said to the woman.

  “Vera.”

  “Vera, the Winterguard needs your help. If you donate a large portion of your harvest, the Winterguard will not forget your generosity.” Alexey nearly cringed at the artificial tone in his voice.

  “Please sir, I want nothing more than to help you, but we barely have enough to feed ourselves, the soil has been getting weaker with each passing month,” said Vera.

  Alexey looked back at Petrenko, who furrowed his brow at him. Does he want me to threaten her? Am I supposed to act like any Winterguard brute?

  “Vera, come here please,” said Alexey.

  Vera shambled over, shivering.

  “Please tell me you understand what’s going on here,” said Alexey.

  Vera looked behind Alexey at the others. When she noticed the spears in the hands of the recruits and Winterguardsmen alike, she gulped and nodded solemnly. “I don’t have a choice here, do I?”

  “Listen to me, Vera.” Alexey leaned down from his horse until he was at eye level with her. “You don’t want to deal with the Captain. I hate having to be the one to do this to you but working with me is the best thing for you.”

  “If you hate doing this, then why are you!?” Vera shrieked.

  “What’s taking this hag so long to comply!?” Petrenko roared, galloping next to Alexey.

  “I was simply asking her—”

  “YOU DON’T ASK! YOU TELL!” Petrenko screamed.

  The Captain pushed Alexey aside, forcing his horse to the side. Petrenko dismounted and stood directly above Vera threateningly.

  “Please sir, I—” Vera began.

  Petrenko punched the woman in the stomach, making her cry out in pain and fall to her knees. Alexey flinched angrily and glared at Petrenko but did nothing. He glanced at Viktor and Anton, both of whom looked at him expectantly. What do they want me to do, kill him? Alexey fidgeted nervously, frantically going over his options. He clutched the Artifact in his pocket, hoping it would provide him with a solution, but none came to him. He bared his teeth but remained docile.

  As Alexey trembled with anger and indecision, a massive blur rode past him towards Petrenko. Before he was aware of what was happening, the point of a spear shot out of Petrenko’s neck, and Viktor yelled furiously at him.

  “FIGHT!” Viktor screamed.

  Anton fumbled for his weapons, and the surviving Winterguardsmen had absolute shock plastered on their faces, but they readied themselves for battle.

  “FUCKING TRAITORS!” one Winterguardsman shouted.

  Fierce war cries roared from both sides. The Winterguardsmen charged and Anton threw his spear and hit an enemy horse. Realizing his disadvantage, Anton frantically retreated but was overrun and thrown from his horse. Viktor charged from the side but was thrown from his horse as well. Steel clashed against steel, and horses whinnied triumphantly or screeched in agony. A few Winterguardsmen departed from the recruits they unhorsed and began to charge at Alexey. Free from any semblance of doubt, he viciously pulled the Artifact out of his pocket and threw it out in front of him. The Artifact’s cocoon lifted, and the object’s mysterious light shone all around itself. Alexey recoiled, wincing and closing his eyes, completely blinded by the light.

  “What the—”

  The sounds of fighting quickly dissipated, and only the Artifact’s intoxicating and revolting hum filled the air. Alexey kept his eyes closed for a few moments before sheepishly opening them. The light began to dim down subtly, which allowed him to observe his surroundings: multiple horses were dead, and the rest stood completely still with their riders still atop them. A couple bodies were sprawled across the ground, but Alexey could not recognize them as the Artifact’s light still hindered his vision.

  “Anton? Viktor?” Alexey meekly called out.

  The light continued to shine, but its intensity now waned, allowing Alexey to fully observe the scene. He saw Anton lying in the snow with a spear handle protruding from his chest.

  “NO!” Alexey cried out.

  Alexey frantically jumped off his horse, landed on his knees, then frantically crawled over. Anton twitched, coughing up blood and barely clinging to life.

  “Anton! Stay with me!” Alexey grabbed his hand and held tightly.

  Anton continued to cough and wheeze, but gripped Alexey’s hand and looked up at him. He tried to speak but gurgled his words, blood spitting from his mouth.

  “C’mon, say something to me!”

  “G—g…” Anton continued to cough up more blood. His grip on Alexey’s hand began to loosen and his spasms grew fewer and less intense. Within seconds, the life in his eyes disappeared, and his grip was released.

  “N—no,” Alexey trembled, tears beginning to stream out of his eyes. Alexey sobbed, screaming with devastating grief.

  After several moments, Alexey regained some of his composure and stood up, looking around. The Winterguardsmen who still lived now stood completely still, their faces expressionless, and their eyes occupied by blackness. Alexey paced around them carefully and cautiously, scanning them intensely. The horses were unaffected.

  “Viktor? Viktor, where are you?” Alexey muttered, carefully stepping around the enthralled Winterguardsmen.

  Alexey laid eyes on Viktor, who stood motionless, blank-faced, and black-eyed.

  “Viktor! Viktor, no!” Alexey grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him violently. “C’mon! Don’t do this to me!”

  Alexey punched and slapped Viktor. Out of nowhere, Viktor’s arm struck Alexey in the gut, launching him over a dozen feet away. Alexey grunted with intense pain, clutching his ribs and breathing with extreme difficulty. As he flailed helplessly on the ground, he looked up at Viktor, who remained enthralled.

  “No…” Alexey’s voice was raspy and almost completely inaudible. He struggled to his feet, wincing from extreme pain that originated from his core. Many of his ribs were broken, and his breath grew heavier with each passing second. As he felt himself dying, he looked up at the Artifact. The object shone excessively brightly, causing the wounded Alexey to hold up his hand. As he closed his eyes and turned his head away, the Artifact’s hum disappeared as his hand wrapped around it, the scalding and frigid sensation engulfing his entire body. Alexey’s pain mysteriously vanished: his ribs began to repair themselves and his breath returned to him.

  “What is—” Alexey stammered. He was befuddled as he tried to comprehend his inexplicable turn to good health. He looked back at Viktor, who appeared filled with incomprehensible rage. He bared his teeth as he stared down the cocooned Artifact in his palm.

  “I DON’T UNDERSTAND YOU!” Alexey screamed with unadulterated rage. “WHY DID YOU TAKE HIM! WHY DID YOU TAKE HIM TOO!” His fierce rage was accompanied by a river of tears streaming from both eyes. He clenched the Artifact, trying to break it, and roared in confused agony as it refused to bend.

  Alexey let up on the Artifact, looking at the enthralled men and Anton’s corpse, feeling defeated. Time to go, he thought. His mind began to numb as he walked towards his horse, mounted it, and galloped away.

  CH 35 – A
sher X

  More farms, villages, and towns crossed the path of Asher and his raiders as he continued his campaign. On his northwestward route, he regrouped with several other raiders he had initially split from, now bolstering his numbers to just under seven hundred men. One of the other Captains said their squad had encountered and ambushed three hundred Headland soldiers.

  “All the survivors surrendered, but we only let one of them loose. He should be scurrying to the Furakuhold right about now,” the Captain boasted. “He also told us that hundreds of our countrymen have been taken prisoner there.”

  “Then we’ll free them,” Asher decided.

  “If we’re clever enough, it can be done,” the Captain said.

  Despite the victories in his campaign, Asher was deeply affected by Damon’s demise, even if he tried his hardest to disguise it.

  “Do you want to talk about Damon?” Andy had asked him earlier.

  “The monster that murdered him will suffer for the rest of his life,” said Asher.

  “There’s justice, yes, but it’s my duty to check in on you occasionally. You haven’t been the same since he died.”

  “I haven’t been the same since I was forced into fighting a war against deceptive cunts that executed my father,” Asher contested.

  “Point taken,” Andy conceded.

  Asher’s recently bolstered army could not travel such great distance anymore due to the plunder it had acquired being so bountiful and heavy, especially the cannon.

  “Why didn’t the Emberland Army just bring its own cannons?” one of the officers had muttered.

  “Because all our cannons are made for warships and frigates,” Asher informed.

  “That may be true, your Majesty, but how come we don’t just build cannons for the sieges before deploying? Granted, I am not an expert in manufacturing.”

  “Evidently not,” Asher said with spice. “Don’t you know how long it takes to build a properly functioning cannon? Months. Not to mention how expensive it is. We had to march from home without delay, so no time for that.”