《Reawakening: Part I - The Hunt》
— Prologue: Affairs of the Fifth Cohort —
¡ª Introduction ¡ª
Seventh of Maenar¡¯s Dusk, 1701AE
The Ancient has commanded that we, His senior officers, shall keep a written log. I read reports, not write them, so I hope command shall forgive any oversights. I have been told that He has decreed that these logs ought to detail reports of weekly summoning, training of the dregs, any anomalies found during scouting, among other things.
The seven Veil Renders under my command assigned summoning have bound around four dozen of the fallen today. A dozen of these have been men fit for duty and shall soon join the rest of the dregs in training. Three are boys who shall be sent to logistics. Seventeen are women and girls who shall be sent to command for distribution. The rest were unfit who were condemned to The Pit.
One of the Drill Instructors returned five dregs to me today fit for scouting. They were therefore bound to a Veil Render fit for scouting duty. Staff Sergeant Marcus Limas shall therefore commence scouting duties on the morrow.
Fifteenth of Maenar¡¯s Dawn, 1702AE
The fifth cohort finds itself nearly fully manned, barely even a year past the anniversary of its founding. Lt. Marcus Limas assures me that the dregs are being drilled relentlessly. Of the dregs, the forty-five Veil Render¡¯s assigned summoning in the cohort have brought forth nearly one-hundred able bodied fallen ready to be sent to basic. Four hundred and seven have been committed to The Pit. One hundred and fifty three have been sent to Distribution. Fifty seven have been sent to logistics. A good week, all in all.
Lt. Limas has also put forward that one Corporal Lance Kron ought to receive a promotion for his crucial part in putting down a plot among the dregs of the third squadron. Captain Reiner Kron, as well as I, second his recommendation. The Colonel should be pleased with this. Further, the Render who failed to properly bind the dregs has been stripped of his rank for his ineptitude.
Fourth of Silvera¡¯s Sun, 1702AE
Lt. Limas has reported that Sergeant Kron¡¯s brigade has yet to return from their scouting assignment along the Yera River, having departed twelve days ago. Lt. Limas assures me that Sgt. Kron¡¯s dregs were thoroughly bound and this is not likely a mutiny. Lt. Limas has sent out the fifth and seventh squadron of Sgt. Luka Charim and Sgt. Reman Kyn to search for the missing third squadronTaken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
The Veil Renders report diminishing amounts of fallen fit for duty of late. It is my opinion that we are cleaning this area of the Veil dry and ought to move on soon. Command is, of course, welcome to reject this assessment. This week forty two have been found fit for basic. Seventy three sent to distribution. Seventeen sent to logistics. Three hundred and forty three committed to The Pit.
Eleventh of Silvera¡¯s Sun, 702
Squads five and seven have not returned. Lt. Limas believes our position compromised and I would concur under any other circumstances. I am sick of code, so let me sleak clearly. Due to Operation ****-*** and the fact that ** *** **** ****** ********* *** ****** *** ************, I suspect it is not the enemy that has found us, but something else entirely. I strongly advise command to move us out now.
Seventeen found for duty. Three sent to logistics. Five sent for distribution. Five hundred and seventy two committed to the pit. This section of the Veil is drained, the only fallen found have been gone for far too long to be of any use. I reiterate my advice to give us command to move.
Lt. Limas has put together a group of volunteer Veil Renders who wish to go searching for the three missing squads. This group is headed by Captain Reiner Kron. The Colonel has denied them permission, a decision I second, yet they disappeared through the night. I advise command to be lenient with them should they return with insight.
Twenty-second of Silvera¡¯s Sun, 702
David Crass, formorally a Lieutenant of the logistics division, among the officers that deserted to search for the missing squads, was found half dead some miles from camp. Interrogation only found that he had gone mad. His voice was fixed in an ancient language, one that he has no right knowing. He kept repeating a phrase that means ¡°***** *** **** ******?¡±, the implications of this are not to be underestimated. As of this morning, he is missing. As far as command should be concerned, Operation ********* never occurred, as any who knew of it are now dead with the Kron brothers. I have received word that the Ancient Himself as sent the Night Stalkers of Yetyr after David Crass, may the fates have mercy on him, for they shall not.
The Veil gives us nothing. Fifty two of fifty two fallen raised have been committed to the pit. Orders have come in from command to begin marching west where the Veil might have more to give.
— David I: Deserters —
David shifted nervously atop his steed, running his hand through his short red hair. He was thinking about how to respond to the man riding at his side. He cleared his voice before replying to his comrade, ¡°And I¡¯m telling you, Lyial, that they are no mere deserters.¡± He said, his mousey voice barely audible over the beat of hooves. ¡°Reman wouldn''t just¡ run.¡± He added. The larger man scoffed and spit in reply.
¡°Not merely deserters, no. Traitors too.¡± Lyial replied, his voice gruff, the giant still full of bravado and thoroughly bellicose after six days of riding - six days of finding nothing of their lost comrades.
¡°You¡¯ll recall we¡¯re traitors now too.¡± A cold voice called out from in front of them. Lord Reiner Kron, or Captain Kron, depending on to whom one spoke. The young lord with sky blue eyes fiddled with the grip of his officer¡¯s sabre absentmindedly as he rode at the head of their throng, his sharp features set dead ahead.. Lyial cleared his throat and spit again.
¡°Seems so.¡± The gruff man replied. David shook his head. It isn¡¯t right, he thought to himself. Six days of pathfinding and not a damn trace.
¡°Maybe something got them, some beast.¡± A voice called from behind David. It was a high voice - high for a man anyways. David shook his head as if he hadn¡¯t been thinking those selfsame thoughts moments ago.
Lyial laughed lightly. ¡°Like what? Some mutant deer that feasts on the flesh of dead men walking?¡± He replied in an amused tone. A few of the others shared his laugh, though neither David or Reiner joined in the laugh. ¡°The only thing that got them was cold feet and cowardice, Feanias, you¡¯ll see that soon enough.¡± He added. The younger man leaned forward and whispered something to his horse, blond hair hanging down as he did so, though David did not hear what. As he looked over his shoulder he could see a small smile on the lips of the man, as if he had said something funny.
Reiner nodded, finally letting part of his thoughts be known. ¡°Aye, it takes a bold man to march behind the Ancient.¡± Reiner said in a quizzical tone. ¡°Yet, it seems that cowardice has not found them. For, brothers, does it not take a bolder man still to run from Him once one is known to Him?¡± He finished, thinking aloud, inviting someone to reply in disagreement. None dared. After all, they were musing indirectly about the young lord¡¯s own brother. David shifted uncomfortably again in his saddle, as if Reiner¡¯s words were meant for his own darkest secrets. Indeed - David had considered fleeing before, but surely none knew such a thing.
¡°It was the Wolves.¡± mused a cryptic voice from behind David. Riding alongside Feanias was the Conjuror Simmeon. He was the oldest of the group, and the only equal in rank to his fellow captain, Reiner. His face was wrinkled softly and his dark hair had sprinkles of pepper. While all five of the men were Veil Renders, none were so¡ touched by the otherside as Simmeon. Lyial scoffed.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
¡°Haven¡¯t heard a wolf¡¯s howl in weeks.¡± Lyial responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, the true meaning of Simmeon¡¯s words evidently lost on him. David swore he heard Reiner chuckle for the first time since he had met the man, though if he had, it was gone as fast as the wind blowing through their green and grey officers¡¯ field kits.
¡°You dolt.¡± Reiner called out to the big man, amused. Of course a lord would know of whom Simmeon was referring. ¡°He doesn¡¯t mean wolves, he means the Wolves.¡± Reiner said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. David shivered as the autumn wind blew against him, though it were not the wind that put fear into his spine.
At the mention of the Order, David recalled the education he received many years ago when he lived a different life. ¡°The Sacred Order of Saint Wolfrick.¡± David said quietly, looking at Lyial, who¡¯s face only showed confusion. ¡°You know¡ the order of witch hunters?¡± David said, trying to remind the man. Lyial only shook his head.
Feanias lightly cleared his throat to interject, ¡°Not all of us received a lord¡¯s education, gentlemen. Yet he is with us here regardless. Some of us had to learn the role of officer, as well as the grander affairs of the world, in a manner much more crude.¡± the young lord said in defense of the giant, giving a nod to Lyial who offered a kind smile in response. ¡°Regardless, the Wolves are far too busy trying to contend with those demon worshippers in Teryn to come this far south.¡± Feanias added. Simmeon shook his head.
¡°We¡¯ve spent the last year tearing a hole into the Veil the size of Raedon itself,-¡± the wise man pointed out, ¡°-if you don¡¯t think they could spare a few men to investigate such an anomaly, then you¡¯re a fool.¡± Simmeon asserted in his mystical voice, rough from years of drill.
There were few times David recalled his childhood, but now was one of those times. Go to bed or the Wolves will find you, his mother (and teacher) would say to him. He scraped his mind, and not for long as, despite ignoring most of his history he did listen to the tales of the Wolves. The line his teacher had said was burned into his mind: ¡°The Order fell from grace, exiled from Raedon and the greater Empyrium for allowing the Eclipse to occur. In their corruption they deigned to wipe clean the rest of the world of Sin, if only to see opened the gates of Raedon once again¡ if only to earn Her mercy.¡± This tale made him delve into just what the story tellers meant by ¡°Sin¡±, through this he discovered tales of the Forgotten and the powers they offered¡ all as orchestrated by his dear mother. Taught by his own mother - a fabled witch of the south, a land rife with disdain for the New demigods of the North - he had learned the art of Veil Mending. But this wasn¡¯t enough, to merely alter energy wasn¡¯t enough. In finding the Ancient, David discovered an aptitude for Veil Rending: an art most profane: to tear apart the gifts of the Gods.
David was ripped from his thoughts as Reiner¡¯s hand shot up in front of them, an open hand to signal an immediate stop. All of the men took hold of either sabre or flintlock, expecting combat after such talk of witch hunters and beasts, David himself unslung his carbine and readied himself. Reiner swung one of his legs over his steed and took to foot, running to a ditch where he seemed to be inspecting something. The men relaxed ever so slightly, surely a Cuirassier would not dismount if he saw a threat. That was, however, all but David. ¡°What is it?¡± David called out, curious but fearful of what they might find. Reiner looked up at him, stone faced and frozen, and held up something David was not pleased to see.
A broken sabre, hilt leading to shattered blade.