THE LANDS FORSAKEN | ??? | FOREST EDGE

  600

  “Alright, ladies and gents,” announced an idle youth. “Gather round for a little speech ‘fore we desecrate unholy ground and do what can’t be undone.”

  The six subordinates pushed through the crowd of emaciated prisoners to stand before their leader.

  “Ahem. We’ve gathered here today to mark a new dawn for the Nine Wolves."

  A young man no more than twenty years of age, sitting comfortably on top of a protruding boulder. His eyes were gemstone shades of emerald embedded into a chiseled olive face, like a depiction of a cavalier deity sculpted in the volatile presence of the subject. His jet-black, shoulder-length hair melted into the landscape of tainted sand stretching behind him as far as the eye can see.

  The Prodigal Son baptized the crowd in his gaze.

  "A few years back, the six of us were no better than the rest of you, cockroaching through our days in some no-name, backwater village.” He chuckled pitifully at a crown of gold that stood out among the rest. “Lemme give you all some credit,” he continued. “Making it this far took more than just steel balls and the will to live. Hell, the things I hear some of you crying about in your sleep, I don’t even know if I can call you bastards human. I know at least three so-called mercs who’d have shit themselves to death on the first day, and I’m two of them!”

  Raucous laughter exploded from the men in front of them. “That must mean I’m number three!”

  “Three? If he’s one and two, then you gotta be number zero!”

  He waited for the noise to follow its course, then raised a hand.

  One of the captives flinched slightly, though he could not have seen the motion.

  There is silence.

  The mercenary leader spoke again, his voice no longer containing its signature carefree aura. Instead, his flame simmered, fueled by a certain captive’s frustrating resilience.

  Having spent most of his youth trailing behind a single man, the accent of a people he never knew saturated his words unconsciously. “Trust me, I know what some of ya’ did to make it this far. Fighting. Stealing. Selling out. Dragging yer fallen comrades through the desert and ignorin’ the pleas that came muffled through the sand as you burned their faces off.

  “Must’a’ been hard choosin’ yourselves over the others. I mean, I assume the lot of ya’ never done it before. But now that we’re already here, let’s take a moment to think how our lives would’a turned out if we chose ourselves from the start? If, instead of lettin’ crazy old bitches tell us to wait on some light to come down and change everything, we pulled our heads out of the safety of our asses and made something of the world as it is.”

  Most of the prisoners were confused. Whether it was the crazy old bitch or the light from the heavens, they hadn’t heard of such a thing their entire lives.

  The mercenary leader went on regardless. “But what do I know? I’m just a sinner who’s yet to be saved.” He unsheathed a rusty short-sword of unremarkable appearance. “Oh, well. The game ain’t fair from the beginning, so I’ll just keep playing my cards till it kills me.”

  “The rest of you can just take this one as a lesson for the next life.”

  The rest of his men did the same, stacking the blades on top of each other.

  With his short sword at the top, the young mercenary leader exchanged a resolute stare with each of his men, reciting, “Ten for the wolf.”

  Then his men, “Three for the shepherd.”

  And then, finally, together. “None for the sheep.”

  “Alright.” He finished. “Your turn, Eunuch.”

  The Eunuch stepped forward and clears his throat. “Yes, and just so there aren’t any doubts on what I’m about to tell you, I will now formally introduce myself. My name is Sir Rudeos Penn, and I am the capital’s leading motifoir. Four years ago, Her Radiance had a dream regarding a rogue comet that escaped from a nearby system.”

  Comet? Pantheon? System?

  “I’m sure some of you would have seen it passing overhead, and the less intelligent, by which I mean sparing none, would have mistaken the rogue body for the subject of many a drunken story and childish legend. Well, reel in your wishes and tuck them back away, for that is not the shooting star of your wildest imagination. Instead, it is a calamity that will leave irreversible scars upon this planet if we are lucky, and destroy the world outright if we are not.

  “Therefore, several teams were gathered and dispersed from the capital, composed of a genius scholar and a team of prodigious and similarly expendable hired killers to protect them along the way for the sole purpose of advancing upon the impact zone calculated by yours truly and neutralising the fallen one while it’s still disoriented from the fall.”

  As a renowned scholar in the capital, Eunuch Penn’s pause for question came naturally.

  “… does this have to do with it?”

  "What was that?"

  However, he’d forgotten these weren’t the eager youths to which he’d grown accustomed. From the shackled crowd came a parched hiss.

  “Forgive me. My throat is quite dry, you see. These prodigious mercenaries of yours—they seem to have forgotten to give me food or something to drink.”

  Chain links cackled as the captives forgot their restraints, creating as much distance between them and the troublemaker to show he spoke alone.

  “What I asked you before, sir. It was this…” The boy lifted his head slowly, his neck muscles bulging under the collar.

  A punishment devised by the one called Goodhall to add another level of protection from his gaze.

  “There was a girl in this procession when we entered the forest. Was it for this noble goal that she was brought into your pavilion? If so, I ask that you let me express my gratitude to this ruler of yours.”

  A scholar’s prompt scoff sent ridicule over the entire group.

  “Why do you laugh, my dear friend? Allow me to join in praise for your ruler’s forethought. The brilliance of decapitating a child before defiling her. The heights of such wisdom can only be surpassed by the compassion required to conceive it.”

  The eunuch’s flame went stiff. Dead-stiff and frozen as he laughed to the high heavens in contempt. “Oh, Solly! I’d almost forgotten you knew how to talk! Despite our differences, please rest assured that I knew nothing of what these animals were doing to your little friend. At the moment, I do believe I was caught up inside some other matter.”

  “Aha! Yes! You are innocent, aren’t you? The most innocent of them all! Hahahaha!”

  His laughter broke off with a dull crack to the skull. Wilhelm—The Spineless’ shadow—towered over him, smearing blood from his gauntlet. “Shut it.”

  “Nine-hundred and ninety,” the captive counted, dazed.

  “Thank you, Wilhelm,” The Eunuch cleared his throat as the forest returned to its usual ambiance. “Oh, right. Picking up where I left off, shortly after dispatching our teams from the capital, her radiance had another startling dream concerning the invader. Having modified the contents of the Tablets of Exodus, it has made itself exempt from the confines of the fifth commandment. In layman’s terms, it can no longer be killed by conventional means.

  “Or more accurately, anyone who deals the fatal blow will become its vessel and dawn a second life for the invader. That being said, she saw one way to vanquish this foe permanently. By surrounding it with lesser beings who are already close to the ends of their lives, we may be able to bypass its ability, causing it to perish alongside the host.”

  Hushed whispers circulated among the prisoners.

  They were villagers less than a year ago. Making the best of the hands they were dealt, with little to ponder but supplying themselves with the three basic needs of food, shelter, and clothing.

  To most, the Eunuch’s explanation was little more than a web of fancy words. But one truth rang clear: The reward for their resilience was now in sight. And it looked a lot like being ground up in the maw of a shadespawn.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Rest assured, the Men of Fer have gone ahead to meet the enemy first. And upon arrival, the Nine Wolves will support their leader as he takes over the battle. He will face the fallen one in one-on-one combat and create an opportunity for one of you to deal the killing blow."

  A hush slid over the clearing like frost. The Eunuch’s voice thinned to a thread. “But please, save your tears until I’m through,” he said sternly. “There is a silver lining to this, yet. Based on my calculations, most of you don’t have to worry about sacrificing yourself; you will be dead long before you are faced with that decision. And those of you who survive will have no trouble making the right choice, having been so thoroughly hollowed by what you’ve seen on the other side of this forest that you will view death as the only escape.”

  The wind slipped out of existence, leaving the captives smothered by a humid horror at the scholar’s words. “I tell you this as a man who makes no mistakes. Because beyond this stand of trees lies the central point of the universe. What I have fittingly termed the Forsaken Land of Genèse…”

  The words fell, and the air tightened. Somewhere in the crowd, a man made a small, animal sound that was almost a sob.

  “Or, as they call it in filthy bars and backwater villages,” the Eunuch added softly, “The Forsaken Land of the Gods.”