“I don’t mean to be disobedient, Head Elder, but whip bearers are rarely needed on invasions. The best tool to use at the fortress is a spear, and we have the advantage of having a large number of soldiers and a wall. Whereas a sword is for ease of movement on assignments, and whips are usually a last resort against Demons.”
“Usually you would be correct,” the woman answered, before drifting back to the gaping window. Rain began to pitter-patter against the ledge softly, but loud enough to echo. As if to punctuate her next words, a beastly roar faintly thundered in the distance. “However, our foe is not a Demon.”
If it’s not a Demon... And since that sound definitely couldn’t belong to a human bandit, that meant...
Her lips tightened, not in fear but in realisation.
Lightning struck within the grey clouds.
A Duskwalker.
“The fight has begun.” Wren’s face hardened. “Someone made a foolish mistake.” When Emerie made no comment, choosing not to interrupt the woman’s musings, Wren eventually chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve sent your companion to be fodder.”
Emerie’s body language made absolutely no change, and Wren’s humour brightened.
“Good. Your attachments aren’t deep.”
“Whatever you order is for the best of the guild. I would never question your decisions.” The lie fell easily from Emerie’s lips.
Bryce meant a lot to her, even if he unwittingly made her feel like a cheap hole to be fucked every once in a while. They’d shared other pleasant memories and had saved each other’s lives numerous times. They had problems, but not enough to truly deter her... she didn’t think. Or was she just being stupidly hopeful?
Even if she didn’t outwardly show it, Emerie was exceptionally self-conscious of her damaged appearance. The scars on her face and neck weren’t the only ones she bore, and there were many others that went soul deep.
She was also missing a chunk out of her. Although she’d willingly done it, had made that choice, it still lingered in the back of her mind that she was incomplete – and therefore unlovable in the long term.
Bryce was a chance for her to find some form of companionship along the hard road she’d taken. The fact that Wren had purposefully put him in harm’s way just to test Emerie didn’t sit well with her, although she had no other choice but to accept it.
With an unfeeling expression, Emerie waited to be dismissed, hoping their conversation would end. There was much she wanted to say, but couldn’t, wouldn’t.
“How’s your fear these days?”
Wren was aware she was going through a recent bout of trauma and mental recovery.
“It’s managed. Once my wounds healed up, I remembered why I stopped being afraid in the first place.”
Wren nodded, appearing satisfied with her answer. “The Elder’s team you have been assigned to will have your whip ready. Be careful in the rain, Emerie. The creature will have the advantage.” Then she inclined her head towards the door. “You may l–”
Just as she was about to thankfully be dismissed, hurried footsteps pounded up the staircase. The person didn’t wait for permission to enter, and knocked into Emerie as he passed her.
“Wren.” He stood in the same position as her. “The Duskwalker has begun its attack.”
“What happened?” she asked with a lack of ire. “I told everyone to hold off on the attack until our whip bearers were ready.”
“One of our bowmen accidentally unleashed an arrow into its chest. It grew enraged and tried to scale the wall.”
“Idiots,” she bit in return. “What Duskwalker is it?”
“It has a beak, that’s all I know.”
“The raven.” She spared a glance at Emerie, before shaking her head. “The winged one won’t be far away. They never travel without each other. It’s likely lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to push through the gates. Double the foot soldiers, don’t allow them through.”
“Understood, Head Elder.”
The man left.
“You.” Emerie didn’t think it was possible, but her back straightened further. “Tell the leader of your unit that I no longer care if it’s alive. Two will be difficult for you to battle against, but I want one of them. I don’t care which one, and I no longer care if it’s dead so long as I have one.”
“Understood.”
When she was given a nod to leave, Emerie finally escaped.
Now that she was alone, her eyes narrowed. Her lips pulled tight to one side as worry twinged.
Shit. A Duskwalker?
She’d signed up to slaughter Demons, not face an omen of death.
Rope? Check. Whip? Emerie tapped the whip loop on her weapons belt to make sure it hadn’t somehow unbuckled. Check.
Sword? Check. She didn’t need to feel for it, since it was smacking against the side of her thigh.
Four Elders in front of me? Check, check, and double check.
It was an odd experience being assigned to their unit. She was the only Master rank present, and she thought of herself as a toddler.
She knew all of their names, not that she could currently tell them apart from behind. It was an even split of genders between them, with Emerie making it outnumbered.
Why am I the fifth person? She didn’t understand why Wren was assigning her to such an important task.
Capture a Duskwalker? What a pitiful, laughable feat. I’m going to die tonight.
There was no doubt about it. Death awaited her, and she wasn’t as prepared for it as she thought she’d be.
She eyed the backs of the Elders in front of her once more. Are they scared? She wouldn’t say she was petrified, but never in her wildest nightmares did she think she’d have to fight one of those monsters face-to-skull.
Demons were predictable, even if they were pesky to battle. Duskwalkers? Nothing could take them down. Nothing could weaken them. And... it was rare someone came back alive.
Cool air blasted over her as their troop shoved open a wooden side door to the fortress wall. It was well hidden behind shrubs and trees, and not even Emerie had known of its existence.
Figured we wouldn’t be waltzing out the front gate. Which was where the army could be heard fighting.
Her gaze lifted to the waning moon shedding a streak of light through the trees, allowing a curtain of moonbeam to touch the ground. The stars were bright, distant, and sparkling, and slowly fading as rain clouds continued to thicken. Any moment now, and the last remaining gap would shut, shoving them all into foreboding darkness.
A beastly roar vibrated her bones. She swallowed thickly, before taking in a calming breath through her nose – not that it helped much against her panting.
She tried to switch off her heart and emotions, putting her training to use.
There are plenty of foot soldiers. She’d been informed that they were a distraction for her team. Their fear will mask mine. Her own wasn’t strong, but it was present, radiating a tightness in her chest.
A handful of screams pierced the air.
Demon or Duskwalker, I have to do my duty.
The leading member of her team clenched their gloved fist near their head to halt them, before signalling to approach the edge of the tree line slowly. When the area opened up before her very eyes, mainly an expanse of dirt leading to the fortress gates, bile rose in her throat.