Chapter 2: Beasts and Bandits

Chapter 2: Beasts and Bandits

            The sick, constraining smell of smoke woke him.

Xavier sat upright, coughing, his lungs straining for fresh air, his eyes watering in a desperate fight against the smoldering blackness that clouded his vision. There were voices shouting, he could hear them, orders being given, people screaming; soldiers. Leaping to his feet, Xavier stumbled through the corridor, feeling along the wall as he searched through the haze for the doors. Who could’ve attacked with such a force? Xavier thought as he moved past a now useless torch in the heavy smoke that blanketed the air. Bandits would never have made it inside the barracks; Wilt was on guard; he has the sharpest eyes. Finding the doors, Xavier moved into the courtyard, the air becoming slightly clearer and his sight regaining depth.

            It was ablaze; he could see the flames twisting their way towards the black sky, at least twice the height of a man, spreading quickly, having already engulfed the stack of equipment that lay at one end. It was impossible; the equipment was all metal; fire should not have been able to continue once it reached there, yet it was. In fact, as far as Xavier could see through the haze, the fire was growing on top of the swords, chest plates, and shields that were both hung against the wall and scattered on the ground nearby. He watched the flame leap, turning from a dark blue at the base, to a pure white in the middle, before finally becoming alive and bright at the tip, the orange and red colors flaring as if the fire reignited with more energy than it began with there. Looking across the courtyard, Xavier could see soldiers engaged in combat all around him; Xavier’s eyes darted towards the wall walkway as he saw Wilt firing arrow after arrow into the darkness, shouting to the other archers that had taken up position around him.

            The soldiers themselves were struggling; the bandits moved with superior grace and fluidity. Their axes swung through the air at blazing speeds, a blur of arm and iron followed by harsh cries of unfortunate soldiers. Watching a few soldiers fall across the courtyard, Xavier saw their bodies go limp and turn slightly as they crumpled, deep cuts running across their chests. Turning away, Xavier felt fear crawl along his skin, rippling from the horror his eyes had just seen; he had never seen the death of a fellow soldier, let alone as brutal a death as the ones the two soldiers had just suffered. A cry from his right attracted Xavier’s attention and he turned. His father was in the middle of the courtyard, fending off two bandits that had him penned between them, their axes turning slowly in their hands as they closed the gap between them. They were brutes, short but exceptionally built, their muscles bulging from underneath their worn tunics, and they moved slowly and deliberately, each step taken with precision, unlike the typical bandits fighting approach which was to charge and swing relentlessly. With a flash of sword and armor, Xavier watched his father turn and stab the first bandit, a horrific cry escaping the man before he collapsed backwards, his axe falling useless beside him. Xavier began to shout, a battle cry coming up his throat, when he saw the body of the fallen swordsman begin to move.

            It was impossible; his father’s sword had gone clear through the man’s body; nobody could have survived such a blow. Yet the bandit was not rising, the figure was becoming indistinguishable now, an absolute blackness overtaking what was once a pale bandit. Looking at the grass around the body, Xavier saw no blood forming, no ring of dark liquid that should have covered the area of the dead bandit; there was nothing, as if no wound had ever been inflicted. Moving forward, Xavier began to approach the mass on the ground, before his father’s voice rang out to him.

            “No! Xavier get away from that!” Doreius shouted, his voice a sense of order mixed with a desperate plea. Surprised at the tone, Xavier stepped back, and could not hold back a gasp of terror as he saw the form turn into a new figure, as alive as the previous one had been.

            The bandit had gone, but in its place now stood an incredibly large beast. Not like any Xavier had ever seen, this animal had a huge head, with short fur except for a long trail extending from the top of its head down to the base of its neck. There were two sets of long canines extending from either side of the bottom of its mouth, reaching up towards the eyes of the creature, glistening white even in the smoky air that still covered the battleground. In between the top fangs Xavier saw teeth sharp as sword tips lining the roof of the mouth, as the beast roared in anger and faced his father, whose attention was focused on the one remaining bandit. It was completely black, the hair on its neck barely distinguishable with a dark red color to it. He saw the beast flex its legs, the muscles rippling underneath its skin, as it prepared to attack.

            “Father, watch out!” Xavier cried as he lunged forward, grabbing a sword off the ground in front of him and advancing towards the beast.

            Before he could reach it however, the beast leapt, its claws extending like daggers promising death, at his father. Once more, Xavier saw a flicker of movement come from his father, heard the slight whoosh of his sword cut through the air as smoothly as it did the beast’s flesh a half second later, and watched as the beast crumpled on the ground in front of his father, a dark black blood oozing from the deep cut that ran across its chest. His father brought his sword above his head, bringing it plunging down in the head of the beast with a mighty yell that echoed across the barracks. The skull split, a loud crack sounding out, and the beast convulsed briefly before becoming perfectly still. At the same time, Xavier heard an arrow whiz through the air and the scream of a bandit that followed as Wilt killed the axe man that Doreius had previously been engaged with. Turning quickly, his father repeated the movement he had just performed on the beast, his sword digging deep into the bandit’s head, who had yet to form into a beast like the previous one.

            What are these things? Xavier thought as he saw dozens of beasts and bandits engaging his comrades, screams of terror erupting from his fellow soldiers as many of them failed to notice the bandits resurrecting as the immense creatures that then attacked them from behind.

            “NO!” Xavier heard his father shout to his right. Turning, Xavier watched as his father sprinted, sword held ready to strike, towards two beasts bent over the body of a soldier they had just murdered. One beast raised its head, its muzzle red, matted with wet blood, its jaws gripping the neck of the fallen soldier. As Xavier ran after his father, he saw the dead, quickly becoming pale face of Murtello, his father’s second in command.

            Murtello had been the closest to Doreius, and Xavier would hear stories from the other soldiers about the days when his father and Murtello served together in the Aldonyan Army. He had been the first soldier to join with Doreius at the barracks, serving with unflagging loyalty and support, regardless of his personal feelings and opinions; he was the perfect soldier.

            Smashing his shield against the one leaping cat-like creature, Doreius advanced on the beast holding Murtello in its death grip. His sword arced in the air as he split the head of the beast straight down the middle, turning to the other, his eyes now beginning to water at the loss of his long-time friend. Cutting horizontally, Doreius sliced open the second creature, its body shuddering as it slumped sideways, a large pool of blood forming quickly in a circle around its body. Dropping to his knees and shaking violently, Xavier watched as his father dropped his sword and shield on the ground and bent over the body of his former comrade, his former soldier, his former friend.

            Scanning the courtyard, Xavier saw the fighting was subsiding, but not in a way beneficial to the soldiers; the bodies of his comrades littered the courtyard. Wilt remained as the lone archer, although Xavier could see his quiver rapidly depleting as he tirelessly fired at the enemy, now more beast than bandit.

Grabbing his father by the shoulder, Xavier spoke urgently in his ear. “Father, we must flee. All the men are dead and dying, we cannot continue to fight; we will perish alongside them”. A long silence went by as his father stopped his cries, released the body of Murtello, placing it gently back on the grass before rising and turning to face Xavier.

            “Help Wilt escape Xavier,” His father commanded, the sharpness returning to his voice, the traces of grief still apparent but disappearing with each word. “Tell him I will meet him in Rivweld, near the eastern mill, three days from now.” Without another word Doreius ran, fighting his way towards the open gates, attempting to flee, whilst shouting at Wilt and beckoning back towards Xavier. Moving towards a ladder, Xavier climbed to the wall walkway. However, he discovered bitterly, that he was on the opposite side of Wilt, who was now gazing at him across the courtyard, indicating with his hands for Xavier to move until he stood above the gate. Sprinting along the stone wall until he was between the towers, Xavier recalled randomly how Wilt had, only a few hours prior, peered over this area of the wall and rescued him from the inevitable punishment of his father. Thinking of this, Xavier became aware of the wound he had suffered yesterday, and once he reached the area and awaited for Wilt, who was running down his side of the barrack towards Xavier, he placed his hand against his side, feeling his bandages. They were still there, although now damp, and inspecting them quickly, Xavier saw they were stained a deep red from his blood; the wound had clearly not healed and likely gotten worse. He would address it later he thought, the concern now being to escape with his life.

            Wilt arrived next to Xavier, his footsteps unusually heavy and he heaved, catching his breath and casting a look over the inner side of the walkway, scanning the courtyard for the beasts, which now prowled along the grass, sniffing the fallen bodies eagerly, looking for those still breathing.

            “We have to jump.” Wilt finally spoke softly, tilting his head slightly in the direction over the wall, his eyes unblinking as they locked onto Xavier’s frightened gaze.

            “Jump?! We’ll die if we jump Wilt.” Xavier responded, his voice rising. Wilt jumped at him, his hand rising to block Xavier’s mouth, a short “shhh!” escaping his lips as his eyes flashed back to the courtyard briefly. Nodding, Xavier felt Wilt’s hand release from his mouth, before turning and peering over the exterior edge, seeing nothing but blackness on the other side; the sun was still hours from rising, there were no torches lining the outside of the barracks, and the smoke was still settled around the walls, lingering like a misty darkness that casted a permanent shadow across the great stone structure.

            Following Wilt’s finger, which now pointed downward towards what Xavier at first assumed to be the hardened ground, and for a moment he prepared to speak up again about the danger. Before he could however, Wilt reached down and grabbed some loose pebbles that lay against the wall, dropping them over the side. For a few moments Xavier heard nothing, and then, the faint splashes of water as the rocks penetrated the surface of what must’ve been a deep hole.

            “It’s deep, but only wide enough for one at a time,” Wilt whispered. “I’ll go first, wait a minute afterwards, then jump in front of the lit arrow.”

            Xavier nodded and watched as Wilt climbed up, bunching himself on top of the wall, looking once over his shoulder before dropping. A silence hung in the air before a splash split the air, relatively quiet for the size of Wilt and Xavier could not help smiling; even when he dropped from forty feet, Wilt was silent. A few seconds later a small flame cut through the blackness, its flickering light moving slightly before remaining perfectly still. Climbing on top of the wall and settling for a moment, Xavier positioned himself right in front of the flame that lay below. Jump in front of the arrow, Xavier thought, repeating Wilt’s directions. Without a second thought, Xavier pushed himself off the wall, his feet aimed at the spot a few inches in front of the lit arrow.

            He felt the wind rush, his body plummeting for a brief period before the icy chill took over as he plunged into the water. His knees bent in slight shock as his feet hit the bottom much faster than he expected, and Xavier saw air bubbles escape from his lips and dance upwards past his eyes as he fought against the pain. Kicking off the ground, he flailed his arms towards the surface, breaking through and sucking in sweet air, much cleaner than the smog he had been breathing inside the barracks. Xavier felt strong, lean arms grasp him and heave as Wilt pulled him from the water and dragged him into a nearby thicket, backpedaling rapidly. He felt Wilt lean him gently against the base of a tree before collapsing to his own knees, water droplets shaking off the tips of his hair as he rocked forward.

            His eyes quickly growing heavy, Xavier leaned his head back, unable to fight off the sleep that was coming onto him, his mind now giving in to his exhausted body which pleaded for rest. Just as his eyelids shut however, Xavier was abruptly shaken, and opened his eyes to meet Wilt’s shaking head, his finger pointed outwards, away from the barracks. Remembering the beasts that still prowled only a long stone throw away, Xavier nodded and gathered himself, rising to his feet slowly and quietly. Wilt did the same, turning and moving through the thick brush as the two moved quickly and silently away from the barracks, the only survivors outside of Doreius of the terrible bloodshed that had begun only an hour before.