Dialogue with Death

The Fall of the Empire

Footnote: It's not time that destroys us, but the belief that we have enough of it.

"The Abyss! How I hate this place," Master Sergeant spat disdainfully over the wall into the pitch darkness. How unlucky he was. Everyone said he had no luck in gambling, but no, he decided to challenge fate by playing with the centurion. The result-a month of guard duty on the wall.

"You shouldn't grumble so much, Master Timis. Lest the Creator forbid, the centurion hears you and remembers who tasted his wine from the personal stash," one of the guards couldn't resist commenting, as it was rare for them to be assigned officers. The night watch stretched on forever, and here was at least some entertainment.

"Keep your mouth shut, or look, you might slip, and it's oh so high to fall to the inner courtyard," Timis responded.

"Come on, Master. I meant no harm," the guard shook his head and went on to patrol the perimeter.

"Spawn of the Abyss," Timis spat angrily again, took out his pouch and filled his pipe. A light snap of his fingers, and a spark glowed in the night. But he's right, only a complete idiot could end up on guard duty at the Northern Bastion wall...

The Gorge of Doom. A narrow passage, squeezed between two cliffs, stretched for dozens of kilometers and was the only relatively safe and short road between the North and South. On one side, sheer cliffs plunged into the sea, on the other - into the swamps of the northern barbarians, who weren't particularly welcoming to strangers. The Gorge of Doom was considered the shortest and relatively safe road, despite its name, as during the day it was a busy route for caravans and travelers. But when night fell, the gorge was completely enveloped in darkness and became a place of danger. At night, the wind came from the sea, which, trapped between the sheer cliffs, gained tremendous force capable of tearing the skin off any creature. And woe to anyone caught on the path by it.

The Northern Bastion, like a reliable cork, blocked the passage, protecting the "soft underbelly" of the South. One of the All-Father's personal creations, which had never surrendered to barbarian raids and was considered truly impregnable. Sheer walls, polished by wind and time to a mirror shine, left no chance to grip, and their height dismissed any dreams of a ladder."Master, could you spare some tobacco?" the guard returned from his patrol. Timis flinched slightly, absorbed in his thoughts."Damn you, why are you sneaking?..." Timis began to scold the poor fellow, but was distracted by a strange sound. A light creak, as if a mouse was scratching stone. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"There it is again." The sound was getting closer. "Torch, quickly."

The guard didn't argue and immediately handed over the torch from the stand. Beyond the wall was pitch darkness, the bottom invisible due to the height of the walls. Timis was about to curse the Abyss, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one of the spots detach from the darkness and rush towards the light.

"Alarm!" his hand reached for his sword, but the shadow was faster. An enormous force knocked him off his feet, and he flew into the inner courtyard. The runes on his armor glowed ominously. Timis felt the impact, and then darkness fell.

Flickering lights penetrated through closed eyes, a wild ringing in his ears, and screams erupted. "What's happening? Where am I?" Consciousness returned with difficulty, a vile taste on his lips. A flash of light broke through closed eyelids, bringing back memory. The Northern Bastion was under attack. Timis sat up abruptly, finding himself in the wall of a shed, punctured by his body, and a stack of merchants' goods bags had cushioned his fall. "Thank the Creator it wasn't in the foundry storage. Otherwise, I'd have gone straight to the Abyss." One eye wouldn't open, covered in blood. Timis tried to wipe the blood away, but his hand wouldn't obey. "Need to get out and figure out what's happening."