Brant trudged through the thick Jasmidianite mud alongside Baird and Aaron. The party had landed the two ships in a rare clearing a few miles south of the stronghold's location, and now they hiked the rest of the way through unforgiving terrain.
"You alright back there, bud?" Aaron asked, glancing back at Ace, who limped along with one arm draped over Sila's metallic shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm good." Ace replied. His words proved incongruent with the wince that followed them.
Aaron shrugged and turned to Baird next. "And what about you? You seem awfully down."
"Not down," Baird answered, "just thinking."
"Oh yeah? About what?"
Baird slipped a few folded pieces of paper from his pocket. "I'm just...really not sure whether I should sign these or not."
"Ah, I see. I get you. It's certainly a big commitment for a married man like yourself to take on."
"Exactly. Because on the one hand, I've got the love of my life, and the kindest man I've ever known, to take care of. And on the other, I've got all of you, my friends, and countless others who I don't know, who can still use my help regardless. I'm just not sure whether numbers or closeness are of greater priority."
Aaron nodded. "Yeah, I'm not sure I could answer that myself. But knowing you, I'm sure you'll make the right choice."
Baird smiled. "Thanks."
Several minutes of silent plodding later, the party approached a tangle of vines. Brant stepped forward, formed an axe in his hands, and chopped through it. He walked through first and found himself in a clearing, humid in atmosphere and foul in odor. Before him stood the demolished remains of the insurgents' stronghold.
Stone bricks lay strewn about on the damp ground, burnt corpses littering the spaces between them. Blue-faced swamp vultures perched atop the rotting bodies and ripped chunks of flesh off the bones. Visible steam ascended from their hindquarters as they groaned at one another.
Chariya raced ahead, startling both Brant and the swamp vultures. She leapt over a row of jagged bricks. The princess inspected the bodies with fear and urgency in her eyes.
Brant ran over to catch up, and all the others followed suit. The whole party spread out over the ruins, searching for survivors.
Brant snapped his head over to look when one soldier burst into sobs. The man held up a feline skeleton with only an isolated chunk of flesh here and there remaining. He collapsed to his knees and buried his face in his hands.
"Brant!" Aaron called as he bent down near a massive pillar, "Help me lift this, would ya?"
He obliged and slipped his hands underneath the opposite side from Aaron. They hoisted the pillar up and tossed it aside, only for Aaron to gasp.
"All my stuff!" he shouted. He stared with wide eyes at an immense jumble of crushed metal objects and snapped wires trapped under a mountain of rubble.
"Brother." Sila said, pointing at a smashed black robot resembling itself.
"Oh dear." Aaron replied, placing a hand over his heart.
Wendy approached the scene and growled. "Whatever bloody bastards did this deserve hell even before dying."
"I think I can arrange that." Aaron said, his voice devoid of any lightness.
Baird studied the ruins with a furrowed brow. "Lord have mercy..."
Aaron glanced up sharply. "On us. Not them."
YOU ARE READING
The Iron Skeleton
Fantasy(BOOK 2 OF THE IRON HALLWAY SERIES) Two years after the emptying of the Iron Hallway, Brant Nayan finds himself on a quest for divinity. A member of an organization devoted to restoring the Alcontean gods to the world, he constantly pushes himself...
