The door gave way as a guard barged through, suited in chainmail, his visor was up. Grit clung to the lad’s young face and in his hand was a sealed letter.
‘Pardon me Captain, I bring news bearing a seal of urgency’
Candlelight lit the stone walls of the room in where he sat, which was on flimsy chair that could break at any moment, though surprisingly durable after all these years despite how many captains had sat in that four-legged thing. The Captain regarded him with his warm, auburn eyes.
‘Bring it here would you guardsman’, he tapped the old wooden desk, that bore as many stains, if not more, than the Captains once posted here. The guardsman placed it where he was ordered to, then dismissed.
The Captain whisked up a silver dagger, it bore a curved hilt, itself and the blade embellished by etched markings (a family heirloom); he used it to unseal the contents:
To Captain Kriegson
My fingers tremble as I write this, soon Fort Phalactreius will be under attack. Forts Vale and Lymsian, have fallen. I may be dead by the time this message reaches you. God forbid, you are already dead before this arrives. This bird, according to the guards, is the fastest. By my prayers I hope it is!
Captain, send word to the capital, you are only other vigil left and the closest.
Scout Sylv, 34th Scout Battalion
Underneath the name was a wax stamp marked with a sigil that bore a shield crest and crossed swords. Around them were what appeared to be jewels of a certain kind.
This letter must be in reference to “those who attacked at night”, as the news at first was vague. Merchants, travellers, and a handful of soldiers- drenched in blood whilst on the precipice of death, had passed by Fort Gard. A chill ran down the Captain’s spine, albeit it being nigh on the edge of Winter’s grasp, therein which snowfall shall trickle down very soon, and that the cold had already settled in; this by any means was no ordinary chill. Fort Gard belonged under his stewardship. Kriegson knew his fort would be next, although time would be in the man’s favour, whereas the other forts were based in the mountains, in which this army of the night had emanated from. His possessed distance as well as the Capital city that governed the empire he was honour-bound to. Still a stretch from the capital, but time enough to send word out and call for reinforcement. Betwixt that and now the man could only prepare.
With quill and ink he scratched away on parchment, emphasising the need for reinforcement and additional supplies. As he signed and came towards his signature’s end, the candlelight flickered out. Kriegson’s eyes widened, his hands crept in on themselves, and his body shrivelled. All was dark.
‘Must not scream, come on Kriegson, how have you got this far in the guardsmen I do not know’
With a strike a match was lit, the candle relighted.
The Captain loosened and breathed again. He stood and went out the room with the candle and sealed letter, headed over to first staunched guardsman he could see.
‘Guardsman, you are at present relieved of your post in order to find a bird and give it this letter to send a message’, Kriegson hovered the letter in the Guardsman’s face.
‘Y-yes sir!’, the guardsman grabbed it and marched away with haste.
Kriegson returned to his room, then proceeded to light a group of candles with the candle in his hand. The man undressed to his undergarments and prepared for bed (as it was already night), reluctant to close his eyes, Kriegson was always a night owl and a downright insomniac. Aside from the man’s rank, he had found ways to manage this, problem with the dark, that included sleep also; instead of long periods of sleep, he developed a pattern in which he will wake in short bursts. However, regardless of one’s degree of control, the body will do what the body demands. The Captain fell asleep, within a blink he was awake again, and a ray of sunlight spilled into the room.
_
Cold gripped onto his and his men’s cheeks, frost had permeated the courtyard below. Not only had it drew darker by the day, it grew colder to.
Kriegson stood above on one side of the fort’s ramparts, cladded in fine steel armour, embellished with gold linings in various, circular patterns. He cradled his under one arm as he watched his men below. Swordsmen sparred, archers shot at strawmen, and those who simply spectated as they talked, betted, laughed, ate bread and drank beer. God knows it will be these last comforts that shall bolster any man’s morale before the worse.
‘Captain, a message for ya’, a guard informed him, in his hand was a sealed letter.
‘Thank you Lieutenant’
It bore no seal of urgency, but it did bear a seal of meagre import. Still, it arrived in due earnest, again, fortunate because of the fort’s position and relative distance to the capital. He had no knife this time, instead, his nails would have to suffice and despite being sharp, they weren’t sharp enough. It took some wiggle and picking:
To Captain Kriegson
We understand your concern as well as the threat involved and have considered your request for reinforcment and further supplies. Unfortunately we cannot spare any manpower at this time or additional supplies.
However, for your eyes only, we know that Fort Gard has a history regarding it to be haunted, and few stories have evolved over time because of that place. Particularly being known for its distant screams and growls. Fort Gard is not haunted, least in the traditional sense, but it is inhabited by something dark and vicious. That is for certain, Underneath the fort lies a cave, obscured from the world. It took some research on my part, to think on what those builders found only exacerbated their intent on finishing the fort. It may be your only hope Captain, either way, I pray for you and your men, may them and yourself be blessed.
Chancellor Jared Ultimo
Great, no reinforcement or extra supplies, he and his men, were on their own. Understandable in a sense, why send another battalion of men or resources against such a, threat, when the inevitable would happen. Suppose you would keep all your forces, all your resources, well fortified within a capital city that itself would be a bolstered bastion, for such a thing as a glorified last stand, or for a sliver of survival. But for Kriegson and his men, it was utter doom. The chancellor spoke of a dark and vicious thing buried deep below the fort, and if it was any hope, where would they find it? They could dig anywhere in the fort, but if they do not know where the source existed, it would be pointless.
‘The growls’, Kriegson thought. As horrid as that had sounded, it was true, the screams would be at the least, a hint of an existing source if their had to be one.
Preparations of the fort had to be established, and soon, even for a chance of success, first, the Captain assigned a sparse set of archers to overwatch the defensive walls and towers, along with a small pool of swordsmen to hold the courtyard. The bulk of his force remained inside. This took a couple hours to properly set up. A small team was dispatched to search for source of the scream or any rumblings, and to not much surprise it was discovered thanks to one soldier’s still sharp ears; its location was in the basement. A sly crack in a wall far removed from everything else in the area, which were mostly old barrels, crates, shelves, shelves with dusty bottles of wine, shelves with dusty scrolls, shelves with cutlery along with worn bowls and plates and just scrap here and there. In other words, no one has been down here in forever, and even if someone had ventured down here recently it wouldn’t have been for very long.
‘Good job men’, Kriegson said. He placed an ear against it and heard distant water drips that echoed from a great below, with a quiet draft that whistled a cold tune.
‘Let’s open it up’, he ordered. His men grabbed the pickaxes and hammers they’d brought along and started a flurry of strikes upon it, bit by bit it chipped, cracked, bricks fell, then groups of bricks fell, until all of it gave way and crumbled entirely. It was already late afternoon.
In front of them lied a damp, set of natural earthy steps that led into the belly of a cave, water dripped from a high point in wherein light had shone from, followed by a gentle, yet chilling breeze. As they headed further in, another set of earthy stone steps swirled down into a deep darkness. Kriegson did not like the idea, nor be the first to descend down those cragged steps, although, his duty comes before him and as a Captain, he must set an example. He gestured for a torch. Once in hand, overwhelmed with reluctance, took the first step down. Each one took with care, as he steadily delved deeper and deeper. A pungent odour wafted upwards, musky and damp. It felt as if he would never reach the bottom, was only mere seconds since he had ventured down and the further he went his steps only became gregariously nerve-ridden. At the swivel of turning back he slipped and tumbled, his torch left him behind, and clattered on the way down. The only thing, aside the armour, that tumbled down with Kriegson was a constant, heartfelt jolt of pure terror that reverberated out from the bottom of his lungs.
It ceased the moment he banged his head against something hard.
_
Darkness was above and at his feet, to his sides, in front and behind him; his hands attempted to grip, at anything. But nothing was all there was. Kriegson clasped his face, such irony, to hide from the darkness inside another one. What else could he do?
That. however, changed with a rise of a voice.
‘So afraid of the dark I see, here, let me help a little- but not to much’
The Captain spun round, hands still clasped to face, he opened up his fingers and slices of…moonlight? Crept through, and as he drew his hands away, it was indeed, the Moon, albeit much larger and so so bright. Under it was a silhouette of a woman.
‘Who are you!?’ exclaimed Kriegson.
‘I was scared of it once to, though it took some time and a whole lot of faith, mostly faith; along with a life-altering change, but it sure made the difference’, she said, dismissing his question.
The woman moved into an angle of where the moonlight was able to reveal her face to him. Her hair, a silver blended with a faded black, wrapped over her shoulders. A scar struck across her cheek, amongst a few wrinkles here and there. The woman’s eyes a lavish green, despite the radiance of the Moon and starkness of the void.
‘Where are we?’
She smiled.
‘In a dream-space, your dream-space. With a little addition of my own, because of your desperation for light, it allowed me to alter the space’
‘You must be the secret under the fort I’ve been informed about’
‘Perhaps’
‘What are you?’ He asked
‘Depends on which me you’re asking. Hm, if my intuition serves me well and it usually does, you came down here for a reason, I don’t believe you just stumbled down here’
‘I fell actually’
The woman laughed.
‘I’d noticed, you made a right noise on your way. To be honest it was a good thing for if you met me back there…this is the best way I can communicate with you whilst in my other form’
‘Other form?’
‘Listen, theirs not much time, if any, I sense the fort and your men are under attack…’
The Captain’s face filled with horror.
‘Was it already night!?’
‘…I’ve been down here for a long time, I can help but your going to need some faith. Your dagger, it can break my chains’, the woman explained, then, she inched closer till Kriegson and her were face to face.
‘The name’s Kyla‘
Unexpectedly, she slapped him, not once but twice!
_
‘Sir!’
‘Captain!’
‘Sir!’
‘Siiiiir!!’
The languished cries of his men piqued his consciousness back into a stir, and it wasn’t right away, eventually, a feeling as if his head was kicked in by a horse throbbed into existence. He wasn’t sure if he had woke up or still in the dream-space, being surrounded by a familiar darkness, till his eyes were drawn onto the noticeable sources of light, a set of blue glowing chains.
“Your dagger, it can break my chains”
He was indeed, awake.
Those chains rustled, clanged, and scraped with something- then- a pair of lavish green eyes, burned amidst the darkness.
‘Captain!’, the guards voices were close and soon enough, two men fumbled down with torch and steel in hand.
With the addition of illumination produced by the torches, a giant thing entered into frame, its long snout, bore a stubby wet nose and rows of razor sharp teeth that gleamed with a ferocious white. It stood on its hind legs, both feet and hands glistened with eager claws. Its body covered in a faded black, with a blend of silver here and there. Their were no defined irises or pupils in its eyes, only a mixture of vicious green around pearls of white at their cores.
AHHH!
The two guardsmen raised their arms and in retort the Werewolf growled.
‘STOP! Hold, hooooold!’
Kriegson, searched himself for the dagger which was fortunately, still in his possession. He drew. A glance of disdain, the beast retreated back a little, however, it was aware enough that this was necessary in attaining its freedom. He went over to the chains, they were cold to the touch and opaque in form; and with silver in hand, struck them apart one by one. They shattered, and the pieces dissipated in mere moments once setting upon the ground. Kyla stomped by to ascend the steps, whilst the guards, confused, fearful, shocked- gawked at each other.
‘I assume a battle is going on?’ The Captain asked, confused further, the guards waste no time in nodding their heads.
They followed and huffed back up to the surface, the shouts and screams of soldiers became clear. As they made it to the main hallway of the fort, the most lit part of the fort, was filled with a blockade of men that wrestled against an overbearing force; a force of creatures that brought fangs, wings, nails and a hunger for blood. Snow blew in- the full embrace of winter had followed these foul creatures.
‘Vampires! “those who attacked at night“, they’ve breached fort already…’
Kyla growled, the hall brimmed with the sound of the mighty roar. Man and creature froze and observed, both parties felt the bite of fear. Luckily for the men, her bites are not for them, as she charged towards the doors, men shuffled against the hall’s walls- which gave her a clear shot at the horde of vampires. Tooth and claw torn into their flesh. She scratched, bit, choked, stomped; blood poured, blood flew- painted the snow in a crimson that drove her with a wild thrill she had not felt for years.
Amongst it all, the Moon shone bright and full, from the bottom of Kyla’s being, she let out a howl so fierce, so exhilarated. Kriegson and the men watched the carnage with unabated marvel. However, that was cut short , as Kriegson moved beside Kyla to be with her in the courtyard (being in a devastated condition).
‘Men form up!’ He commanded, his men followed and positioned themselves, ready for the next wave of Vampires.
The creatures, some clambered over the walls in force, some flew and preyed from the air, others skulked in the shadows. Steel was useless against them, it would slow them down at the least, with them however was another supernatural force, one that can kill them- Kyla. Kriegson and his men made it easy for her, yet so much death and chaos ensued for them as well as the Vampires. For the men, it was about survival.
Morale took a blow as those who were infected, rose from the dead, and turned upon their fellow brothers, forsook of Humanity.
Another break came, though that wasn’t to be for long as Kriegson took the high ground on one of the defensive walls, he could see another wave, it encroached from the forests yonder. Several Vampires stood out from the herd in formal attire and looked less like the creatures and turned that they’d fought. The Captain and his men grabbed jars of oil and lined key areas such as the courtyard entrance and defensive walls, lit them and prepared. The fire was to be used as a ward, they knew it wouldn’t keep them out but it would deter or redefine their strategy. A new stringent of archers formed up behind him, kyla and the swordsmen, soon enough winged Vampires swarmed the skies and darted down with an insatiable rush. Once in range, the archers let loose a volley of fire-tipped arrows, then Kyla, Kriegson and the swordsmen engaged. Again, it was a hardy battle, Kriegson, one by one lost all his men. The scales weighed undeniably against them at this point, for even Kyla struggled against the many wounds, etched, onto her body. Coerced to regenerate, their was only so much one could do. She held against another flock of them, till one got a final bite on her.
Kriegson, also weakened and exhausted, desperate, grabbed a jar and made a circle of fire around himself and her. He knelt, checked her wounds…blood ran out from them like rivers. Incapable of regenerating. The battle was over, Fort Gard, like the other forts, had fallen and the pathway to the Capital, vulnerable, to further attack. He could not fathom why they did this, or why now, all he felt was pain and fatigue, perhaps whatever disturbed them in the mountains finally took its toll? Maybe they had an army in the making and they saw a weakness in the empire that itself was not aware of?? Deadly creatures as they were, though brave of them to strike the heart, regardless of peril; it was the if. It mattered not for Kriegson, his part was done…or, what if?
‘Kyla?’, he breathed. She whimpered at the sound of his voice, her eyes half shut, barely conscious.
‘Faith…I have faith’, he gestured and exposed his neck.
Her eyes widened and released a last howl before those large jaws clasped down and the teeth sunk in, just enough to pass it on.
_
The light of the morning would soon rise, a sky of a fiery orange and cool blue hung over the Fort (which they’ll be force to occupy) and the remainder of their horde. After their battle the snow had settled, fires extinguished, they, the Lords, with their cold faces; glided in. Kriegson’s dagger laid partially covered, though a glint was enough that it had caught the attention of the Lords; one claimed it. However, Kriegson was not there.
Kyla was dead, cold in her Human form.
There was a trail, as if something or someone had been dragged. It led back into the fort. In their minds, was a cornered prey, and they tracked…all the way down to the basement, through to the discovered cave, down to its deepest depth- with no source of light in hand, for they needed none. Till they entered Kyla’s prison, then it became obscure, too dark for even their eyes to distinguish.
They weren’t left to wonder long, as a pair of lavish, auburn eyes burned against the dark and met their gaze.