Chris Evans - A Darkness Forged in Fire

"You'll keep an eye out for me, won't you, Quppy?" Alwyn asked, craning his neck around to look at the wooden cage strapped to his back. Snoring softly inside was a small sreex-Quopparius, Rallie had said, cooing over the creature as if it was her very own child. Alwyn knew Yimt had made him carry the sreex because he was mad at him for volunteering, but Alwyn didn't mind. Having another living creature so close, and a relatively friendly one, helped-at least a little.

The plan (and on the surface it seemed reasonable) was to give a message to Quppy to fly back to the regiment when they reached Luuguth Jor. That assumed a lot of things, not the least of which was that they would actually make it to Luuguth Jor and have the time and ability to give the sreex a message. There was also the slight concern that Quppy, because he was young and new to this, would not fly back to the regiment at all, but instead head straight for the news offices where it had been trained to fly. Scolly had suggested throwing the animal into a cooking pot as the regiment was marching to Luuguth Jor. Alwyn was determined he would set Quppy free before he let that happen. For his part, Quppy continued to sleep, his wings wrapped around his body, his little muzzle twitching with each breath.

"Isn't that nice-the dwarf gave you a pet."

Alwyn jumped. Kritton walked just inches beside him. "Qupp-the sreex is not a pet, and that's Corporal Arkhorn," Alwyn hissed back, hoping his voice didn't betray how scared he felt.

"For now," the elf replied, and slipped away in the shadows.

Alwyn clenched his musket tighter and vowed not to let Kritton sneak up on him, or Yimt, again.

He scanned the countryside, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Three Section was moving quickly along the west side of the river, its progress made easy by the low grass and relatively flat land that lined the water and served as its flood plain in the rainy season. In front of him walked Teeter, his seesaw gait obvious even in the failing light, then Scolly, Alik, Buuko, and Inkermon huffing along just behind Alwyn. Nine souls-six humans, an elf, an elfkynan, and a dwarf-to spearhead the Iron Elves, who in turn were the spearhead of the Imperial Army of Calahr, into the deep, dark unknown. It was best not to think about it.

A low whistle sounded from up ahead and everyone stopped where they were. Alwyn knelt on one knee, the grass wet and sticky against his skin, and was glad he'd fixed his bayonet on his musket even if it did make the weapon unbalanced. If something came running out of the dark at him, even Kritton, he'd have a chance. He changed his grip on his weapon and adjusted his caerna, the knitted cloth twirling limply around his legs. He had a strange thought and was wondering what they were supposed to do in the winter, when another low whistle signaled they were moving again. Alwyn stood up and looked over his shoulder.

He could just make out the shadows of the soldiers behind him. Six shadows. Six shadows…Inkermon. Scolly. Alik. Teeter. Buuko. Had Kritton doubled back to try to scare him again? He looked again and counted; six. It had to be the elf, or maybe the elfkynan. He quickened his pace and moved around a large bush and saw Yimt, N'bhat, and Kritton in front of him.

Alwyn kept walking even though his legs were shaking so hard he thought he would tip over and tumble into the river with each step. Something was behind them. His breathing quickened, yet he couldn't bring himself to shout a warning. He was still afraid, but it wasn't the same as before. He turned around again and counted one more time.

Five.

He should have felt relieved. He debated saying something, but as on the riverbank, he didn't.

How do you explain to people that you see ghosts?

T he regiment left the small village behind with more than a little regret. The soldiers found the elfkynan very amenable to bartering, especially for sewing needles, brass buttons, arr beans, and mirrors. In return, the troops filled their haversacks with all manner of preserved fruits, a sweet nut the villagers called wumja, and delicately woven mesh made of plant fiber that when draped over the head kept the bugs out.

But it wasn't just the vibrant trading that had the troops looking back over their shoulders as they marched upriver, nor even the bare-breasted elfkynan women, who seemed not the least concerned by the stares of the men-they were leaving a small sanctuary of peace and calm and marching into battle.

Fear isn't something one soldier discusses with another. Women, food, officers, and the weather were all acceptable and time-honored topics of discussion, but not how one is feeling, unless, of course, with reference specifically to the approved list. It's not that they didn't feel fear; quite the contrary. It was evident in the way they carried good luck charms and amulets and little glass bottles of potions-some, it was rumored, filled with the urine of the bengar the regiment had adopted as its mascot-the warding signs they made, the laughter that was too loud, or absent entirely. Their very profession put their lives perpetually at risk, yet you would never hear them talk about the dangers, at least, not without waving them off as just part of the job. Even now, when several of their comrades were dead and they marched steadily toward unknown peril where more would certainly perish, they did not talk about the fear they must all be feeling.

It was a contradiction Visyna didn't understand.

Konowa said nothing about it. Even in the forest when it had just been the two of them, it was clear he was still a soldier. He could have gone anywhere, done anything, but without the army, he had been like a lost little boy. And now that he had his regiment back, she wondered if he would ever really want for something else.

For her. She knew he had feelings for her-Konowa was certainly not subtle about that. But whenever talk of the Empire and the natural order and the Shadow Monarch came up, he would pull back, even though she knew he felt much the same way she did.

It angered her that she should care at all. Her people and their way of life were threatened by the Empire and the Shadow Monarch, and Konowa was definitely serving one, and was in danger of serving the other. All too soon, choices would have to be made. Something deep within Visyna told her that when the time came, there would be no turning back.

"This is wrong, Rallie, this is all wrong," Visyna said, readjusting her sitting position.

She was riding with Rallie in the correspondent's wagon, and as a result, having to speak louder than she would have liked in order to be heard over the constant creaks and groans of wood killed and carved into unnatural shapes. Faint memories of the trees and what they had once been remained in the wood, and it saddened her. Why did everything that man touched cause so much pain?

Rallie took a long drag on her cigar and blew out an immense cloud of blue smoke. "When young men march off to battle, my dear, it is never right. The question is: What is to be done to make it right?"

"The Empire must be driven from Elfkyna," Visyna said simply. She felt a presence off to the right and turned to see Jir bound out of cover and pounce on a small rat dragon. There was a squeal and a crunch, and the rat dragon disappeared down the bengar's throat in two bites. She smiled as the bengar's joy and satisfaction radiated out from it. "They are an unnatural predator here."

Rallie nodded as if she understood. "I see. Tell me, who then would the elfkynan ally with to fight the Shadow Monarch? The orcs, perhaps? They've always seemed interested in expanding south. Or maybe the dwarves, if you allowed them mining rights. Or what about-"

Visyna shook her head and waved her hands in surrender. "You've made your point. But surely you see that the Empire cannot stay? This is not their land. They oppress my people and steal our resources. Even now, they send this regiment to steal the most sacred talismans of the elfkynan. How can we continue to work with them?" Her own hypocrisy was bitter in her mouth. She served the very Empire she hated, just as Konowa did. Why did she think she was any better?