III
Guyel’s Workroom at Fort Astora
“Colonel, you need to rest. I don’t mean to presume above my station, but you are working too much.” Guyel’s attendant Vim set the empty teacup on a tray while looking at Guyel, worry clear in his eyes. Guyel looked over at the grandfather clock and saw that the hour hand already pointed to midnight. He laid down his pen and sighed deeply.
“I have no choice,” he replied. “I’m the supreme commander, even if I’m only standing in. I don’t want her ladyship coming back to find her affairs a mess and laying into me about it.” He laughed, a little self-deprecatingly. Vim immediately shook his head.
“Excuse me, ser, but I can’t imagine Lady Rosenmarie would say such a thing. On the contrary, you could hardly face her if you work yourself so hard you collapse. Please, ser, you must take better care of yourself.” Vim bowed as low as was physically possible, and Guyel recognized they weren’t going to reach an agreement here. He thanked the attendant for his concern, then stood up slowly.
“All right,” he said at last, “I suppose I can allow myself a short break.”
“Not short, ser,” Vim replied. “You ought to take a proper rest.” He opened the door wide and saluted as though to hurry Guyel along. Privately amused, Guyel made his way back to his quarters.
“What’s all that noise...” Guyel had only been asleep for a moment when he was roused by the sound of many footsteps running back and forth out in the corridor. Soldiers rushing about at this hour of the night could only mean trouble.
“Something’s happened,” he said to himself, then leapt out of bed and quickly pulled on his uniform. Just then, a pale-faced guard came barreling into the room.
“What’s going on?” Guyel demanded.
“It’s...It’s a surprise attack, ser!” the guard replied. Guyel’s eyebrows shot up. He had expected the Seventh Legion to move on the fort, and had thus given strict orders to the watch on the gates to not to let their guards down for a moment. Hearing now that despite this they had allowed a surprise attack to slip their notice, he felt his blood boil with rage.
“Our enemy is the Seventh Legion, then?” he asked, fighting to keep calm.
“No, ser!” the guard cried out, spittle flying. “It’s the army of some other nation!”
“Another nation...?!” Such a possibility hadn’t even crossed Guyel’s mind, and his face twisted in horror. Four years had passed since the war to unify Duvedirica began. There were no longer any nations other than Fernest who defied the empire, and it was predicted that in a few years unification would be achieved. Yet here was a guard telling him that an unknown army had launched a surprise attack on Fort Astora. For a moment, his mind went to the jewel of the south, the United City-States of Sutherland—but they had made a secret alliance with the empire. It didn’t make sense.
Whoever it is, there can be no doubt that the Crimson Knights’ defeat sparked the inspiration that brought them here, Guyel thought. His shoulders felt heavy as though they were weighed down with lead.
“What’s our current situation?” he asked.
“W-We’re... I...” the guard stammered, their eyes flicking about the room. It was glaringly apparent that something terrible was happening.
“You’re not telling me we’re losing?” he asked. A surprise attack was one thing, but this was only the army of some unknown nation—nothing like the Seventh Legion and its death god. He hadn’t even considered that the Crimson Knights could be losing, but the guard’s reaction was more than sufficient to make him question that certainty.
“We are, ser. The enemy has already penetrated the fort. The battle has descended into chaos...”
“Eh...?! Impossible! How could you allow them in so easily?!” The gates of Fort Astora were made from black glass, the hardest of all stone. Even if they’d used siege weapons like a battering ram, they couldn’t have gotten through in a single night.
“The reports are so confused, ser, I can’t tell if there’s truth to them...” the guard said. They then went on to explain the situation. Guyel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The guards on the gate had killed all the soldiers in the gatehouse before breaking the bolt on the gate and leaving the fort wide open. If that were true, the question of how the siege had been won so easily was answered, and yet...
“You mean to tell me that imperial soldiers, proud warriors of the Crimson Knights, turned traitor?”
The guard, wiping sweat from their brow, nodded. “Yes, ser. Based on what’s happened, we can say with reasonable certainty that they were collaborating with the enemy.”
Collaborators. Guyel stood slack-jawed, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing.
The guard, looking like what came next was even harder to say, went on, “And about those watchmen, ser, they... The unnatural power and speed with which they moved... It wasn’t human...”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Seasoned warriors tried to stop their rampage, s-ser, but they were so easily slaughtered... It was as though the traitors had transformed into wild beasts.” Guyel felt like he was losing his mind. He could no longer make any sense of what was being said to him.
“We await your orders, Colonel Guyel,” said the guard, stepping toward Guyel with a look of desperation. As much to calm himself as anything, Guyel tapped them lightly on the shoulder.
“I need to get a look at the situation myself first,” he said. “Then I’ll decide what to do.” He went to where his sword rested at the side of his bed, swiftly fastened it to his belt, then set off from his room at a brisk pace.
As soon as the gates to the fort were flung open, all the Winged Crusaders surged through. The shock of being betrayed by their comrades combined with the surprise attack threw the Crimson Knights into chaos. Amelia, the architect of it all, cut down around ten of them. Then, as their blood congealed on her blade, she slowly ran her tongue down its length.
“Pah,” she scoffed. “These are the Crimson Knights? In the end, they’re just savages. Savages that ought to have stayed holed up in their mountains where they belong.” She was looking out over the two armies as their swords clashed furiously when a Mekian soldier came running over to her. The badge at their collar marked them as a ten-wing.
“The surprise attack went perfectly, Thousand-Wing Amelia,” they said. “Our forces are pushing forward with an overwhelming advantage.”
There was a pause before Amelia replied. “I can see that for myself. Did you need something?”
“Yes, ser!” the ten-wing said. “Our secondary objective of locating their food stores has been accomplished!” Amelia ran her fingers through her hair.
“Then set it alight. I want every scrap of food burnt. If anything is missed...” She paused. “You know what happens then.”
“Yes, ser!” said the ten-wing, raising two fingers in salute. Amelia watched as they dashed away again, slowly raising her left hand into the air. The cerulean mage circle tattooed on her palm flashed repeatedly with blazing light.
“My sweet puppets must be reaching their limits by now,” she said to herself. With one last glance at the bellowing soldiers, she headed deeper into the fort alone.
Guyel left his quarters and headed for the watchtower. He ran up the spiral staircase and at last beheld the furious battle just as the first rays of dawn reached out across the land.
“So that’s our attacker...”
“Yes, ser.”
“It’s true, then. I don’t know those colors. Where did they come from?” he wondered aloud. The soldiers of the mysterious army all wore armor of vivid leaf green with triangular purple sashes tied at their waists. At the very least, they weren’t an army from any of the empire’s vassal states.
“The ones raging there in the center of it all are the spies I told you about,” said the guard, holding out a spyglass. Guyel took it and looked in the direction he’d been told. He immediately sighted a man wildly brandishing a pike and shouting something.
“There?”
“Yes, ser. The other will be somewhere nearby, if he isn’t dead yet.” Searching with the spyglass, Guyel saw a man straddle another soldier before ripping their throat out with his teeth. There could be no doubt that the man was out of his mind.
“I see, he really is a beast... Eh?” Guyel, suddenly gripped by a sense of unease, directed the spyglass down and to the right. There, he saw a woman with pale blue hair strolling through the clashing armies heading toward the fort. She wore pure white armor and a resplendent purple cloak. The thought that she must be their commander had only just occurred to him when his attention was caught by something strange about her left hand. It shone with blue light from some unknown source. Guyel lowered the spyglass, rubbed his eyes, then looked again, but this produced no change in what he saw.
What’s that flashing blue light...? he thought. No, it couldn’t be! He remembered a past conversation he’d had with Rosenmarie.
“No matter what, mages always have a mage circle tattooed into their palm. Felix says it glows when they use magecraft,” she’d told him.
“So if I see such a glow, I can safely assume that person is a mage?” he’d asked.
“Yeah... Although, I mean, I was only half listening to what Felix said. I couldn’t care less about mages.”
The phenomenon he witnessed now matched perfectly with the identifier Rosenmarie had described. He resisted the urge to gulp in fear in front of the other soldier.
“Make sure this reaches all the troops,” he said. “Our enemy may have caught us unawares, but they are few in number. We have the clear advantage in position. Crush them, for the honor of the Crimson Knights.”
“Yes, ser!”
“You have my orders.”
“Huh?!” The guard cried out in alarm from behind him, calling him back. “Wait, Colonel Guyel! Where are you going?!” Ignoring them, Guyel leapt down the spiral staircase.
Amelia made it into the fort without the slightest bit of difficulty. She kicked down every door in her path, then cut down all the Crimson Knights who came running out to challenge her.
“So this must be the barracks,” she said to herself. “In which case, I suppose I need to go farther in?” She shook the ichor from her blade as she continued down the corridor, past the mounds of corpses and pooling blood. Once past the barracks, she noticed the entrance to another tower across from her, and she stopped.
“You really scurry about like mice...” she muttered, looking over at the men who stood across the entrance, blocking her path. From how they carried themselves, she guessed they were a step up from the sorry excuses for soldiers she’d killed so far.
“Well, well. Someone of importance has come out to see me,” she said, then pointed to the man who stood in the center, glaring over at her. “That white hair and gray eyes—do I have the honor of addressing Colonel Guyel Neurath?”
His eyes went wide with shock. “How do you know my name?!” he demanded.
As the other Crimson Knights drew their swords with violence in their eyes, Amelia replied casually, “Oh, it’s not just your name. Let’s see...” she continued. “I also know, for example, that you live in Orsted with your beautiful wife and adorable twin daughters.”
“How... How could you know all that...?!” Guyel gasped, the blood draining from his face. Amelia wondered how much more shocked he would be if she told him about the new life growing in his wife’s belly.
“There is nothing the owls cannot find out,” she said.
“Owls...?” Guyel repeated. “Where in the hells’ name are you from?”
“We are from the Holy Land of Mekia. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Amelia replied, giving him the truth without any attempt at concealment.
“Mekia?” Guyel said slowly. “That’s the land to the west, where the founding church of the Holy Illuminatus faith is located, isn’t it?”
“You are correct. It is a glorious land, blessed by the goddess Strecia.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you tell me that so easily?” Guyel said, looking at her questioningly. She’d answered what he asked her, and now he was asking why she’d answered? Amelia cocked her head, confused by his response.
“The point of your question is unclear to me,” she replied. “Did I err in answering with the truth?”
“After the empire hears about this, do you think Mekia will be left alone? Your tiny land will be snuffed out in a heartbeat.”
“Oh, I see what you mean. You needn’t worry about that—the Holy Land of Mekia isn’t so feeble that it would lose to the empire,” she said. “And besides, you’re not going to be able to tell anyone what you heard here.”
Guyel was quiet for a moment. “She’s a mage, for sure,” he said at last. “Be on your guard.” At his words, the Crimson Knights all charged at Amelia. There were six of them, including Guyel. Amelia licked her lips, then held her left hand out toward them. She concentrated the mana in her body, and cerulean light poured out from the geometric lines of her mage circle.
“C-Colonel Guyel?! My...my body?!” wailed one of the crimson knights.
“What the...?! Why can’t I move?!”
“D-Damn you! What the hell did you do to us?!” As they cried out in panic, Amelia watched with pity in her eyes.
“Yet again, your questions are all very dull,” she said. “Weren’t you listening to Colonel Guyel’s warning? I am a mage.” They could no longer respond, so she went on. “Mages use magecraft. It should have been blindingly obvious what I would do.” She walked up to the soldiers she had frozen with Bonds of Immovability, then, one by one, she went around and stabbed them in the heart. Their faces contorted with fear until at last they cried out in despair as the life went out of them.
Amelia finished with the others, then turned to Guyel. “Now then, only Colonel Guyel remains...” she said, then stopped. “Well, I never. Are you still moving?”
Guyel grunted with effort. “You...You won’t get away with this, you...”
“Have you undertaken some basic training yourself, then?” she asked. As she spoke, Guyel was struggling against her, trying to draw his sword. His will to fight was as strong as ever. Amelia found the sight quite touching. She leaned in to bring her mouth to his ear, and whispered, “I’ll make sure to just miss any vital points. I imagine you will have five minutes or so before you die. Think of this as a small gesture of thanks for cutting down the time I had to spend searching for you.” She slowly snaked her left hand around Guyel’s waist, then pulled him toward her as though in an embrace. As she did so, she plunged her blade into the center of his chest. She enjoyed the sensation of flesh rending apart and saw the tip of her blade peek out from his back. Guyel’s pupils dilated, and his body shuddered convulsively. But he didn’t make a sound.
“You didn’t scream like your men. That does you credit. I suppose as Lady Berlietta’s aide, I should have expected nothing less?”
“My lady...” Guyel gasped. “Forgi...”
“Goodbye, Colonel Guyel. May the blessings of Strecia go with you.”
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login