Beyond The Frontline

Fragment Oscar

A week had passed, and supplies were being unloaded from carts and wagons of all sizes. Colt stood nearby, overseeing the operation with none other than Aran, who had once again volunteered—along with the same group as before—to escort the delivery.

"I was expecting to wait a little longer," Colt said, eyes scanning the crates. "Usually, things like this take a mess of paperwork and back-and-forth agreements before they're finalized. Surprised it only took a week. Color me impressed."

Aran, ever the proud one, replied with a slight smirk, "For what you did, exceptions were made. Not just by Lady Celestine, but by many others who were grateful. If that eases you any."

A short pause followed as they both seemed to search for the next topic. Colt spoke first.

"Still...what's the current condition of Thorn? And how did all of you hold the line during the early days of their attack, if you don't mind me asking?"

Aran looked a bit conflicted, her jaw tightening before she finally spoke the truth.

"It was bad at first. But after what you did to ease the burden at the gate, we thought things would get better."

She exhaled slowly, her voice heavy.

"Unfortunately, that didn't happen. The number of injured and casualties kept piling up, soldiers, guards, civilians...you name it. As for your second inquiry, it all happened too fast. One moment, the Black Dogs were just lingering, keeping their distance, then suddenly, they turned against us when we least expected it. We managed to quell the threat inside without too many losses, and for a brief moment, we thought that was the end of it. We were very wrong."

Her gaze shifted towards the village outskirts, as if she could still see those days playing out.

"Not even a week passed before our scouts returned, every one of them reporting attacks on towns, villages, and settlements. That's when we realized it was already too late. Lady Celestine made the hard call to fortify Thorn. And just before the gates were sealed, that was when the flood began."

"I still remember it clearly. Hundreds of them, refugees pouring in. We were stretched thin, trying to provide even the bare minimum of aid. None of us had the luxury of rest. The moment the gates closed behind them, the Black Dogs surrounded us. Completely."

She paused, the weight of the memory setting deep.

"They struck us from within to sow unrest. Then came the chaos of tending to the wounded and sheltering the fleeing. And just when we thought we might catch a breath...came the siege."

She shook her head slowly.

"Chaotic is the only word that fits."

"But all of you held out for months. That's an impressive feat in and of itself, correct?" Colt said, glancing her way.

"What you say is true," Aran replied, "but given the circumstances, we were completely unprepared. We lived in peace, and then all of a sudden...this happened. It hit hard. So much so that we had to start drafting militias."

Not wanting to dig too deep into those memories, Colt shifted the subject slightly.

"After we came in and caused mayhem...what happened to the rest of the Black Dogs?"

A slight smirk tugged at her lips, as if she had been waiting for that question. "We finished it. Cleaned up what was left. The ones who were nearby and heavily wounded, we cut them down. Those who ran, we chased. While the rest scattered with no sense of order. Thanks to you, the entire force fell apart into small, disorganized groups. From there, it was a matter of tracking and taking them out little by little."