Avengard: The Fall of Senvia

Eskir led the way back to the wagon.

"The world's gone to shit," said Jenny, as she climbed back aboard. Eskir's expression contorted, as if to ask what she was still doing there.

"Everyone's turning on each other," she continued, ignoring him. "And war was bad enough before Senvia vanished."

"War's the natural order," I said. "It's an empire. It happens. Senvia expanded its border to survive."

Eskir hollered a laugh. "Okay, even I have to agree with the pacifist on this one. Senvia was fine. It didn't need to expand." I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off. "No, don't start on about the separatists. They weren't trying to split off as a hobby. They had a reason for leaving. Senvia could have fixed the problems rather than invading them again."

"Everyone's a politician," I mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!"

"We live here too," he said. "We have a right to care about politics, don't you think? Even if we don't all have democracies."

Jenny leaned back in the wagon, eyeing him as a wide-toothed grin spreading across her face.

"You can't just fix the world with the drop of a coin," I interjected. "It's not as easy as changing a few laws. Lyana was trying her entire reign to make Senvia less warlike. It takes time to change a culture."

"It takes less time if the people are on your side," said Jenny. "And even less if you do bother to change the laws. But she never did."

I shifted in my seat as the wagon hit a bump. I didn't like the way either of them were talking about Lyana.

"It wasn't like that," I blurted, but held my tongue when I felt heat rising to my cheeks.

Eskir looked at me with an odd look in his eyes. It wasn't pained, but his features softened in much the same way. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed his eyes and stopped.

I paused to stare at him, wondering if he'd speak. Something told me that the words he wanted refused to come.

"Okay, you two need to stop doing that," remarked Jenny.

Eskir shifted back and raised his eyebrows. "Doing what?"

"That weird look! You've been giving her the weird sympathy eyes even when her back is turned. Is she dying or something?"

I slowly turned in my seat, my face contorting in mock amusement. "Am I dying?"

I knew what she meant, of course. But Jenny didn't know about Eskir's stolen voice, and I wasn't about to tell her.

Eskir laughed, but my focus had already shifted. I didn't have time to worry about Jenny's suspicions. The path behind us had darkened. It was still midday, but the light had faded where we'd been only minutes before. The horses were on edge, ready to bolt.

"What is it?" asked Eskir, sobering his laughter when he noticed my shoulders tense.

I glanced from one side of the wagon to the other. I couldn't see anything, and in the rapidly growing dark, focusing my eyes wouldn't do me much good. It wasn't just shaded, it was a rolling pitch black, and growing darker by the moment.

Jenny noticed the dark itself before Eskir. Her hair flipped around when she turned, looking for the cause.

"Hunak," I announced. "Get down."

"Hunak?" said Eskir, bewildered. "Here? Why?"

I grabbed him and forced him down to the floor of the wagon, then tossed a sack of rice on his back. He let out a grunt of air as it hit him.

Jenny didn't need me to tell her twice. I reached for her after Eskir, but she was already down, tucking herself down in between the bales. She knew magic, I remembered. Likely not a great deal, but at the very least, she understood the severity of Hunak.

The horses had stopped, ignoring their guidance charm. The dark had surrounded us now, and even with my enhanced vision, it was difficult to see beyond the confines of the wagon. I couldn't even see the heads of our horses.

A faint screaming came from the other side of the road, deep in the forest. Not a panicked scream. A war cry.

"Is it another ambush?" whispered Eskir.

I held his head down against the wood. "No. Be quiet."

I could hear Jenny shivering, but not from the cold. It was the adrenaline coursing through her body.

"I'm starting to get the impression that you two do this a lot," she said.

I gave one more look around the wagon. There was nothing. Nothing that could be seen. But I could hear the pounding of feet against the ground from ahead of us, and more coming from behind. Faint lights trickled through the forest, barely bright enough to break through the darkness. It wouldn't enough to remove their disadvantage, not when their opponents would have been marked to be immune from the darkness.

I gathered two rough wool blankets from the bottom of the wagon, pulling one up from beneath Eskir's legs and the other from where Jenny had been sitting, and vaulted over the wooden sides.

They were so close now, and we were caught dead in the heart of both. Merity Point and Durn, I could only assume.

I hurried to the front of the horses. I could see the fear and confusion in their eyes, with only the guidance charm keeping them from bolting. Though, bolting may have been better than freezing in place.

We had two, both powerful draft horses. I tossed the first blanket over the chestnut coloured one. It didn't quite calm it down, as I felt its coat bristle from the sudden occlusion. But it was better to stare at a blindfold than off into a darkness thicker than an overcast midnight. One was like closing your eyes. The other was an ocean, and everything in it lurking just out of sight.

I couldn't even see the wagon from where I was standing. I knew it was in front of me, but I might as well have been swimming a thousand leagues under the sea for all the light I had to see.

I wrapped the second blanket around our other steed, taller than the first, and pitch black on colour. In daylight, his coat shined in the sun. In that moment, I nearly poked him in the eye just trying to get the blindfold on.

I darted back to the wagon, making sure to keep a hand following the body of the chestnut until the wagon came back into view. It took longer — I nearly had to touch it before I could finally see it. Eskir and Jenny must have been unable to see anything at all with their human eyes, even with their faces pressed against the wood.

I climbed in, and Eskir let out a startled gasp. "It's me," I said. "Just keep quiet, no matter what you do."

I let my hand float near his hair, so I could feel his head nod.

I fumbled around a bit, eventually managing to grasp a few more sacks of food to toss on their backs, before settling in myself. We had food, but not enough of it was conveniently sack-shaped. I had only packed two blankets when we set out. I would need to ride it out with next to no protection from the sky and potential falling arrows.

I tucked my body in as best as I could, took a deep breath, and waited for the charge.

"They're coming."