Red Axe, Black Sun

Bad Arrival

Dryston was the first to set his boots on the quay. The two deserters had last been seen in a habitation block, a multi-leveled stone house with several apartments. Kyra must have also known that much from Jarnsaxa Ornsdottir, who had been the one providing the funds to rent the premises used by her scouts as undercover sleeping places while they pretended to be looking for work. These facilities needed to be changed every month, Dryston thought, along with the spies inhabitating them. Buildings like the one used by the two deserters were rare, but not in Skybridge.

The masses of the buildings surrounding them left the group marveling. In no other town under Godfrey’s reign could buildings that big be seen. The cult of his personality became evident the time they passed the first statues of the governor that were seamed with roses and other flowers of admiration. His mission to defend the denizens that lived under his strong hand must have been well executed, if his popularity among his people was anything to go by. He was a protector of humanity, even if there was nothing human left on the streets now by nightfall.

The courtyard they found themselves in was devoid of any form of higher life. Ravens settled on the trees and the roofs, gathering for their journey into the surrounding forests.

Dryston went on, glimpsing the habitation block. A burning smell penetrated his nose. It was only a heartbeat later that Dryston saw smoke rise from the building.

“Thaena, am I right in assuming that you shot swamp-rats in the crypt with your crossbow?” he whispered and broke into a run.

His companions followed him.

“Yes, why?”

“Now would be the right time to use that skill.”

Thaena swallowed. “I’m not sure if I can do that, Dryston.”

“Thaena, it’s okay if you’re scared. I could finish every sentence that goes through your mind right now; I know how you feel.”

“I fear I’m just too afraid to do this,” she said.

“It’s okay,” Dryston told her. “Everyone feels that way and I can tell you it never goes away. But you have to accept it and learn to live with it.”

“I don’t want to fail you,” Thaena said.

“They always tell you failure is not an option,” Dryston said. “That’s nonsense. Failure is always an option; it is the easy option. But it is a choice. You can go this way with us to victory, or you can go the easy way back to defeat. Now, come. I know you can do it.”

They took cover behind the edge of another building, taking off their rucksacks and lying on their gear.

Dryston unbuckled his fist weapons and slid into them. He held them up and grabbed the grip hard in each hand.

“Now, Sifnar Red-Shoal and Gorm War-Anvil,” Dryston said to himself. “What do you think about those names, Cormack, real or contrary?”

Cormack snorted at the potshot.

Thaena was bracing her crossbow.

Dryston gave them signs to spread out, with Thaena at the front.

She nodded, took the vanguard and laid a bolt from her thigh quiver on the crossbow.

Dryston followed her, the weight of his immense metal fists being comfortable to feel, while the burden of his rucksack was missing from his back. This was it, the feeling when you lay off your equipment to travel and survive in the wilderness, knowing that there would be fighting instead. And after it was done, you would return and pick it up again. Still, there was the nagging thought at the back of one’s mind that this would happen only if everything went according to plan.. There was no guarantee of that. There were so many possibilities that things could go wrong, that it left a bad feeling behind.

His guts twisted as the heightened sensation of danger pumped up his poisoned metabolism. His knees were weak and he knew his companions felt the same at that moment. That wasn’t good. He had to fight the thrill and get acclimatized. It had been too long now, since he last had seen real action, outside the practice drills. You forgot how well you could fight and how it felt over time. Dryston had to focus to get all the memories back, his confidence in his heart, mind and body, and the memories of his muscles over his skills. It was there. Deep down, he knew that it was still there, waiting to be awakened.

Dryston broke into a run and sprinted over the courtyard. His thoughts for Kyra were a sting in his chest and sent a shudder through his spine and knees. If she had arrived an hour earlier, he hoped she had proceeded with more caution than they had. Then there would be a chance they would catch up with her before she got into any trouble. They were four, she was alone out there. Empathizing with her, Dryston would have used fear and paranoia alone to proceed to the objective extra cautiously, circling the building and closing in from several angles while surveying the surroundings. With vigilant eyes, he observed their own route of approach. They only had one shot, straight into it without the luxury of time to check for traps or an ambush. His heart raced and made the collar around his neck feel uncomfortably closer. Was she nearby? Was her life in danger? With grim concern, he swore to himself that anyone trying to harm her would witness his wrath as the last thing that they would feel in life.  

Thaena’s heart pounded so loud in her chest that she could hear it in her ears as clear as the same rhythm of her steps. The aching sorrness in her muscles forced her to hold her weapon low, but she was ready to reposition her crossbow at any movement. She had left the crypt because she was afraid of the darkness, but now she regretted that, instead, she had joined something like this. She should have known by now that a dark place in a crypt was a safer place than any other site occupied by humans. She was afraid. Afraid of something appearing in the windows, afraid of what would be lying in the building, afraid to shoot her weapon at an adversary. Afraid of getting attacked and hurt… or worse.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the hulking form of Cormack jogging behind her. His muscles and clanking war gear made him look more intimidating than normal. She was grateful to have him on the same side, at the same time knowing that the men they were looking for were probably of similar stature, and there were two of them. Not untrained men, but mercenaries accustomed to the trade of killing.

She reached the door of the house and got down on her knee, her shoulder pressed against the solid wall. Not once did she let the door out of her sight, while she grabbed down onto the earth and smeared mud across her fingers.

For Jade Cyrus, the day of death already felt like a part of her past. She’d already died years ago, losing her life before the beginning of her long journey, on which she was remade as a woman with a new soul. She had seen and felt things that some men wouldn’t witness in their whole life. Her personality had been broken, wiped out and rebuilt from the ashes by use of hallucinogens and opiates. The only reason she followed Dryston was to keep him able to fight, just as she would have to give something back out of gratitude. She asked for no reward in this life, because every moment after she had met death was merely a gift of fate.

Cormack knew fear like every other human being. But it was diminished as much as possible by asking the same question again and again, as he reached the door and stretched his hand down to the handle: What would my forefathers have done in my situation? and, Can I live up to the demands they make? He slowly pressed down the handle and opened the door a crack.

There were three sources of fear with fighting: fear of the reputation of an enemy – which was not known; fear of the appearance of an enemy – which could not be seen yet; and fear of having not prepared his whole life enough for the moment of confrontation. Cormack at least made sure that he could say he had done everything he could to be ready. Beginning from the trials in his childhood till his intense sparring sessions with Dryston, the saga of his life would go on, till one day, whenever that day was, it would meet a bloody end in glory.

With breath held, he pushed the door all the way open, and he and Dryston entered the building.