Aftermath

Chapter 1

I shuffle along the small dirt path, glaring at anyone who passes me as I wind my way through the strongholds shops. It reminded me of a fair from before the epidemic, booths lining the streets, people dressed in colorful old-style clothes, performers and guards mingling with the peasants clogging the street. It's all so familiar I almost want to smile.

Almost.

Instead I continue on my way, passing the kings guard easily and making my way through the castle to the servants quarters, where I'd been living for the past month so my leg could heal, it having been broken by a nigh, a servant of the undead. The first time I ever face one and I break my leg and lose my charge to a fucking newborn. Who does that? Who fucks up that bad?

Apparently, I do.

And because of that, I've been stuck in some random, and not very well known, stronghold in fuck it all Arizona, populated by desert dwellers who don't know left from right, seeing as their sole purpose is to farm.
And farm.
And farm.
It's sickening.

I've taken to healing, learning from Derek, the town physician. He came from a stronghold 30 moons away, in ancient Nebraska.

In merely a month I've treated everything from a small cough to a fractured skull, a broken bone to severed limbs. Not a single person has died. I'll say this, Arizonians are tough.

I mainly brew and deliver potions, only helping mend people when there's been an attack, leading to an abundance of injuries.

There was an attack earlier today, and the people have caught word that there's another wave coming, which is why I'm heading to my room.

I grab my staff, twirling it once before leaving it to float level with my head as I grab my bow as well, leaving my daggers. If I had anything to do with this fight, the nigh would get nowhere near close enough for me to need them.

I leave my room, hastily pulling up my hood as I hear footsteps approaching. Guards near me, whispering to one another and, once they catch sight of me, pointing.

I sigh silently, rolling my eyes at their antics. Half my face is shadowed, not to mention I carry obvious weapons, but still they insist on attempting to seduce me.

I tilt my head, and the one on the right sighs loudly, reluctantly stepping back to make room for me to pass. At least he knows.

It's the one on the left that doesn't understand. He grabs my arm in an attempt to stop me, and I pause, speaking.

"Release me immediately and you shall remain unscathed"
He scoffs. "I'll be fine either way darlin', don't you worry bout' me"

I turn to him and tilt my head slightly, allowing light to reach inside my hood, revealing my eyes. He gasps and steps back, shock clear on his face.

"But, but, you're female. How is it possible?"
Now it's my turn to scoff. "You think only males are capable of fighting? Ha! Both I and The Guardian are females, only The Angel is male."
"How on earth would you know that?!"
I allow a small grin to cross my features. "Even I am not so insolent as to have no allies, that would be certain death. Now, may I pass?"

He nods dumbly and I step past him, nodding to the man on his right, who I now recognize as Burlen, one of the eldest knights in the stronghold. He returns the nod, attempting (and failing) to hide a smile at his comrades shock.
_________________________

I climb the ladder to where the archers stand on the platform along the upper wall.

Taking position, I give a silent gasp when a hand touches my shoulder.

"Aren't you a little small to be an archer, boy?"

I turn to see the commander staring at me warily. I merely shake my head and pull the now back, admiring my bow as the sunlight shines upon the wood.

"Kind of a girly stance" He continues, causing me to tighten my lips to hide a smile.
"What? Are you mocking me, soldier?"
He say it in a harsh tone, but his eyes betray his amusement.
"Nay sir, I am simply enjoying the honor of being spoken to by a man so respected as you."

He smiles at my voice, opening his mouth to reply, only for it to be drowned out by the sound of men shouting. I see fires being lit in the stone towers, signaling to those on the other walls that an attack was coming. Two flames, two towers of smoke. Werewolves.

I nod at the commander and turn to my post again, looking across the barren lands for the first of the beasts. Expecting them to be at least a mile from the farthest of the villages, I'm shocked to see them mere feet from the nearest of the villages, flames and bodies littering the streets behind them.

Hordes of them appear out of what seems to be thin air. I'm going through the possibilities of werewolves using magic, attempting to determine how it was possible, when I notice that the ground seems darker where they're appearing.

They're coming from underground. The thought surprises me so much that I loose an arrow early, shooting what seemed to be the leader in the eye, instead of the heart.

The surrounding archers take that as they're cue and begin to loose arrows, the sky turning black from the sheer amount of the flying projectiles.

The battle has begun.