Soulshocked | ONC 2021

Spotted flames

The pack of deer grazed peacefully among the flowered plains, looking up every once in a while.

Garranis clutched the wooden handle tighter.

The animal lowered its head to feed.

He threw.

The axehead soared in an upward arc, somersaulting beautifully through the air an inhumane distance.

The deer fainted, spreading pollen and dust from the ground; its former family fled in fear from the sound of its collapse.

The hunter ducked underneath the tree branches and walked up the hill to collect his bounty.

He plucked out the small throwing axe from the deer's heart, then slung the body over his shoulder, wound to the sky.

"And so it begins."

Garranis turned around wildly, searching for the voice, and in the panic, the corpse fell from his arms. He drew the small axe from his belt, scanning the flat, pristine plains.

"Who was that? Where are you?" He yelled.

The only motion of the moment was an orange butterfly fluttering by.

"Hagsin, wherever you are, that isn't funny!" Garranis shouted.

He knelt down to pick up the deer once again. The entry had been opened again by the drop, and blood leaked onto his leather vest.

"Goddamn it," he sighed.

The hunter returned to the dark green forest; it was the fastest way to get from these plains back to the town even though he had to maneuver between trees and fallen logs.

Through the dull, stone hovels and wooden huts, was a mass of burning lights even visible from the forest.

Garranis slowed his steps. What could it be? There was no plan for a festival or campfire, no one in a town like this had the time to congregate during this time of the year.

The deer still weighed on his shoulder, making his right steps heavier than his left. It was accentuated further when he stepped on a pile of sticks.

As he made it to the forest's edge, he could finally see his hometown. The lights were growing brighter, more distinct, and more numerous.

And what they reflected off of was sinister.

Bronze centurions marched, a torch between every five. There were hundreds of them; complete overkill for a town like this. Why were they even here? What was to be had?

Garranis stayed crouched underneath the trees, a few dozen metres away from the town. The soldiers had their sights focused, and the legion melded into a large block, a mass of copper glowing in front of the unimpressive village.

It was subtle, but the heart of the army was focused on one; he was hidden behind the buildings of the town. His words were incomprehensible at this distance.

So the warrior prowled forward, the forest stretched for miles adjacent to the western side of the town. He stopped when he could see one side of the battalion, but also the man who commanded them.

Garranis' jaw dropped.

There he was, dark gray hair, olive eyes, with a banded crown wrapped above his forehead, where a third eye sat in the form of a beautiful clear crystal. The only armour he wore were the hundreds of men at his attention.

The Emperor had come to their town.

In front of him were only a couple of soldiers, holding their steel spears at the ready. And at their feet, bent over with their hands to the ground, were the men and women of Garranis' village.