Here's the second instalment. Apologies for the wrong tag associated with the last chapter. Read up.
Droplets pelted the forest canopies by the millions. No lighting flashed, no thunder clapped. Just peaceful rain blessing the northern woodlands in the dead of witching hours.
But the calm wouldn't last. The sound was barely audible at first. And no, it wasn't the bellow of toads, nor the howling of wind. An untrained ear could easily miss it. That repetitive drumming on god's cold earth resounded in the distance. The echo of on my thumping hooves fought hard through the incessant patter of rainfall as accompanying vibrations shook more prominently.
There was a disturbance in the wilds. One could feel it in the trees, in the air you breathed. The atmosphere was thick with tension.
Water splashed violently as hooves descended in rapid succession. The horses flew past in a blur, sprinting the final leagues without restraint. Scores of mud were chucked into the air as hooves made brief contact with the ground below, digging in before hurtling their riders forward.
No words were traded. None were needed. With arses suspended mid-air, the steeds were pushed harder with a whip of their reigns. It couldn't be helped. Despite the rain, regardless of the cold that came with it; they simply had to get there.
They blitzed through various selections of foliage, weaving through obstacles like politicians running from responsibilities.
Trees and shrubs shot past, often snagging and tearing at their burlap. The damn things were barely visible under cloud cover making them an utter bitch to dodge. A soft yank at the reigns told Marlin to vault over a fallen trunk. The beast didn't miss a beat.
Upon landing, a secondary thud vibrated from behind him, bearing reminder of how closely his comrade shadowed. Knowing backup was near brought an artificial sense of safety. A notion he would not be foolish enough to entertain.
'Eyes front. Breathe. Concentrate. We're almost there,' Bryce told himself.
And just as the thought passed, a dim light glittered through the dense flora up ahead. Blue eyes widened in recognition. His arm shot out and pointed at the target.
"There!" he alerted.
It wasn't necessary. Clause had already drawn his gun up into the air. Through the canopy of leaves, shot out a bright yellow flare, rocketing through the atmosphere and dousing the rainy scene in its majestic hue.
But as they sped in closer... no response returned. A glance back revealed a just as confused Clause. Where was their feedback? Clause reloaded, pointed and pulled the trigger. The bang resounded throughout the trees, rocking leaves with booming vibrations.
No bang returned, however. No green or red flare. Not a thing. What was going on over there? The two burst out of the tree line and into the grass covered clearing surrounding the outpost.
Rain thumped down even harder without the protection of leaves, but they would not falter. Just a few couple of hundred metres away stood their goal: A construct of wood and stone seated atop a hill. This was Soba core's eleventh base on the north-eastern frontier. Inside dwelt a certain class of elite. One that all soldiers aspire to become. A breed of wolf that foxes have nightmares about. Tonight however, they were silent.
Studded hooves stormed up a soaked green slope. Steam puffed from the steed's nostrils with every grunt. And when they neared the summit, they galloped alongside the massive stone wall. Flags representing the twelve houses hung from steel shafts. One by one, they shot past the coloured cloth from below, dashing desperately for the southern entrance. With just a few more strides around the enclosure, the lamp came into full view, shining unbridled onto the open drawbridge below.
'No...'
Bryce yanked on his reigns, rapidly breaking pace. Clause bolted past.
Not good.
It was way too dark for open gates. With no acknowledgement to their flares, who'd be crazy enough to drop the bridge?
And where the fuck were the guards? There existed no bodies nor blood on the scene. No signs of a struggle...
'No signs of a struggle,' he whispered.
Puzzle pieces started falling into place... albeit a little too late.
"Clause, wait!" he bellowed in panic. Dark pupils zoned in on his friend streaking for the open gate "Stop! It's a setu-...!!"
Blazing white lights flashed across blue eyes. Bryce screamed in denial as he bore witness to the eruption of a blaring firestorm. A panicked neigh broke out as Marlin leaped onto hind legs whilst belts of white-hot flames spread out.
Bryce strained for grip, battling to stay onboard. Clause, however, wasn't given the option. The shockwave catapulted mare and rider alike through the rain, flying together with flaming shards and splinters.
Heavy thuds splashed out as bodies smacked dirt, one after the other. Mud and grit splattered whilst a ton worth of horse barrelled through the ground. Long broken legs flailed as the beast crushed its former owner beneath its massive weight before grinding down the muddy slope.
Yellow flames burned and cackled all across the open drawbridge, defiant against summer showers. In the midst of it all, stood a long thin construct jammed into wood. Very few weapons held enough weight to deal carnage of such magnitude. Let alone in a single blow.
Searing hatred poured itself into the observer's bloodstream. Like acid, unchecked rage sunk deep into bone. 'These fuckers,' he fumed in a whisper.
With all the cascading rain, discerning droplets from the warmth of tears became infeasible.
'They're... they're dead,' growled the aggrieved. 'They're all dead.'
Irate hands ripped out the flare gun and sent a blazing round into dark skies. Bright, it shone. Billions of droplets sparkled as the round rose before bursting into a proud yellow flame. In that second; wet stone walls, falling water and drenched hillsides lit up. In that second, he saw the enemy.
Bloodshot eyes registered their positions lining the zenith of the barricade. Each invader manned a wall mounted ballista. Ballistae which the wolves erected. These assholes couldn't even be arsed to bring their own arsenal?
A sharp clang rang out as a fox reloaded the next javelin. Mechanical clicking rippled down soaked walls as the catapult wound taught.
"Wait!" the scout called out from below. "Just hold on a damn second!" Cracks of frustration lingered in his tone
Nobody cared. The clicking continued. Clearly these demons weren't here for prisoners. Irritated, Bryce swore viciously under his breath.
He slid off a thoroughly startled Marlin, nearly crumbling on top of his bad leg. "You got me, alright?!" he yelled, stumbling for balance. A hand found the reins and latched on. "I give!"
His free arm delved into the saddle bag and yanked out the archer's trophy. "Look! Before you burn me, at least consider taking this first!" The moment he raised it mid-air, the clicking stopped. "You wouldn't deny your comrade's ancestors their legacy, would you?"
Deathly silence followed. The flare above burnt out and darkness came rushing back in. Dying flames on the bridge were all that were left to illuminate the scene. They shone just bright enough to illuminate a figure atop the wall. The caped silhouette regarded him a moment before turning and walking out of view.
"Thought..." - cough - "as much..." Wiping the rain off his eyes, he gestured to his horse. "Stay here Marlin."
Then step by agonising footstep, muddy feet hobbled their way towards the flaming drawbridge. Disobediently, the stallion followed, but only for a moment. Horses don't like fire. They don't like certain death either. Yet this idiot regarded as 'master' simply limped on, side stepping smoking wooden shards. A neigh rung out in protest, but Bryce raised a hand.
'For the love of god, could you just listen to me this one time,' he begged.
As he tread on, the boy unholstered his flare gun and dropped it with a squelch. A dagger was discarded next, followed by some shuriken.
That cursed aching throbbed harder with each boot print left behind. Audibly, he winced as the last weapons were pulled out: Reloads for the recently disposed flare gun.
Overhead, javelins trained their explosive heads on their prey below, creaking as their aim matched every step. And even when he boarded the bridge, sights stayed levelled on him, despite dropping his arsenal.
With a toss, he threw the bullets away and raised both arms in submission. While waiting on his executioner, the last dying flames danced at his feet.
'Fuck all left to lose, right?' he thought while standing shakily on the drawbridge. 'I don't know how you illegitimate bastards did this, nor can I compute your reasons, but you don't get to dictate how this ends. Not to me.'
Blue eyes dilated, searching for their nemesis through pellucid smoke. A mere shadow initially, the figure materialised, exiting the wide arched gate. With every armoured step, wood vibrated. A second soldier emerged from the smog. These were different. More prepared.
They wore metal instead of leather. Donned capes in place of cloaks. Helmets replaced the masks. But through the visor, Bryce could spot something vulnerable underneath.
Swords were drawn. Silver tips dragged across the wooden surface of the drawbridge. The scout resembled a lamb awaiting slaughter. Then again, leaving alive had always been a long shot. But he'd be damned if he went out alone.
One last glance was spared unto his fallen comrade and his steed down the slope. Clause was right all along. These abominations were not to be classified as human. To think he wasted all that childhood ambition in hopes to communicate... to reason with a beast that moonlights in murder. Showing mercy would be nothing short of suicide.
Suddenly, the wood beneath him quaked, bringing his attention back. But by the time blue eyes glanced back around, the first knight was already at his flank. The second charged through flames like they didn't exist. Iron-clad boots displaced ash and rubble as they shook the drawbridge. Metallic waste flew out amidst the dirt, settling among the embers.
