Flowered Metal

/// One Week Later

The more this man speaks of peace, the more I think we’re going to war again…

Marlon thought as he stood at attention.

Above him was one of the Emperor’s advisors. He spoke of how the war has come to an end, and with it, the beginning of a new chapter for the Emerald Continent – what the Empire had been named after. At 25 summers old, Marlon looked up at the advisor with dead eyes and a face that resembled his grandfather more than his own father. The war had taken its toll on his body and mind, and he did not bother to pretend to try and stand at the proper attention.

His leather-gloved hand gripped the top rim of his weathered breastplate. The other rested atop the battered-shaped leather pouches attached to his sword belt. The ringed around his back, stopping at his sides to not hinder his legs. Unlike the fresh recruit behind him. His plate armor polished to a shine, a shine that carried up to the boy’s own eyes as he looked up to the advisor as Marlon once did.

“Remember: you are the proud knights of the Empire!” The advisor’s voice rang out magically. “You have brought nations and warlords to their knees! Once your enemies, you will enter the Kingdom as Conquers! I implore you to keep this in mind, but do not let the commons or nobles alike tarnish our honor! We are lions still!”

Marlon harbored a small wish that the advisors had died in the war as well. They were at the Fort City of Godswood – their home – but had been recalled to the Capital after the war ended for ceremonies and the pony show the nobles loved to do when they won their games. And for the last three fortress cities, some big wigged noble has given a speech for each time they departed. The Knight had no doubts they’d scribble it down in their books of notable things done…

And like this, the departure ceremony ended. Soldiers, veteran and fresh blood alike, began the final preparations they’d been interrupted in when the Advisor called them all for an assembly for his speech. Marlon and the Godswood Knights didn’t. He’d expected it by now, and had his soldiers finish it all last night.

So, he and his soldiers assembled around their section of the caravan that was to make its way to the frontlines.

“Sargent Marlon,” A voice that tried to sound elegant spoke up. “It’s nice to see our… Knights… Come home.”

Marlon closed his eyes and counted to 10 before turning to face the speaker. “Lord Ronald…”

“I see dogs are incapable of learning human manners.” Lord Ronald spoke with unhidden annoyance. “And that they also shirk their own duties of preparing for their departure.”

Marlon’s eyebrows raised and gave him a mocking contemplative look. “And last I checked, my men had already prepared it all last night. As for manners… I'm not sure what you mean. As you say, dogs know only how to bark and bite.”

The lord man glared at the knight who towered a head or so over him. “You are quite unfortunate, Sargent Marlon. You escaped the Godswood battle with your life, and yet the Empire has granted you a title that does not allow me to punish mongrels like you and your men. Then I find you here back in my City on the way to the Tress Frontier! Oh oh oh! My, how the gods smile upon me to know you are marching to your sure death…”

“I do believe me and my squad were left out to dry by your own orders, Lord Ronald.” Marlon said, bored of the interaction. “We didn’t escape, you just made a terrible call that we managed to survive. If you hadn’t ordered us to hold the bridge and allowed the Kingdom’s forces to enter the city’s main street like the Knight Sargent wanted, all the glory we gained would have gone to you!”

He gestured to the Lord and continued. “So, unless you want to try something right now, I'm tired and I’d rest in the wagon before something requires being dead….”

Marlon turned away, the Lordling turning red just as the Advisor appeared in a doorway of a nearby tower. The nuisance turned off, stomping towards the person in question, and left the knights to embark.

“Think he’s gon’ cause trouble sir?” Knight Tim asked as he helped Marlon into the back of squad’s lead wagon.

“Likely…” The Sargent sighed as he settled himself into one of three makeshift beds. His men were the most lax of the column. Of course, they were also a ragtag group of drafted farmers who’d always fought to protect themselves.

The Godswood was the forest that framed the entrance to the First Isle. It was where the portal that humans came through all those years ago. In generations past, it was once considered a holy site, but fell to the wayside as wars rose, rulers died, and humans did what they did best. Forget their roots. Those who'd protected and watched over it also fell to the wayside, forcing them to fend for themselves as they tried to stick to their roots desperately.

A kind of life that allowed them to survive the Godswood bridge.

Marlon sighed and took off his barbuta, tossed it onto the crate labeled “DRIED BEEF”; settling in as best as he could while in full armor, only to see that his soldier was still looking at him, clearly expecting an answer. This made him grumble. “The Empire has sent the general army ahead to secure most of the major points during the last 20 odd days. It is clear our magnanimous Emperor requires us there immediately – hence us leaving at the ass crack of dawn. The last thing that man would want is to prevent us leaving later than we can. If we’re here, that advisor will have eyes on everything and I'm sure we know he doesn’t want someone sniffing around here.”

The knight acquiesced before finally turning away.

It was a hard 25 days to Eagle’s Fort on the northern edge of the Tress Kingdom. Yet, Marlon felt worse for the men and women He had noticed they worked like dogs to pave the road here.

In two months, the first lateral trans-nation highway had been created, Ignoring that the Tress Kingdom would slowly be absorbed into the Empire as it had done to others in the past. It was a historical feat that would no doubt ignore the massive use of prisoner slave labor. He had seen several mass graves of POWs who’d been worked to death in the last month’s time.

And of course, the Empire had kept its promise to return its people.

Marlon just figured they hadn’t expected it would be in the form of mass graves to build one long road that would cut the path to Eagle’s point down from three months down to 25 days for a determined convoy. That was not to account for the fact that the convoy had broken up across the route.

The timeline was a death march for horses, and many were run down before being sold to the locals as food before acquiring fresh stock. Many of the other squads were of “honorable” birth. They’d refused to kill what they viewed as their companions whereas the Godswood squad cared little for them. They had done what they needed and crossed the Town’s outer boundary before supper.

Only two other squads had managed that – 40 men of the original 350-strong convoy.

But that was not Marlon’s problem.

“Papers!” An empire’s foot soldier ordered as they came near the southern gates as the sun flared its goodbyes, casting a warm orange glow across the fortified town on a hill.

Next to him was an all too familiar uniform of an Administration officer. A prim and pressed charcoal cotton button-up with a ruby red Gatsby cap. The Sargent had switched with one of his men at their last rest stop and thus sat on the coach bench. Pulling the orders from a belt pouch, he handed it over where the Admin officer looked it over, cast a spell on it before handing it back with a smile.

“Welcome Godswood squad.” He looked behind us. “Only twenty wagons? How many men do you have with you?”

“40 men. The full 20 of Godswood and the full 20 of Greyrock. Two carriers and two suppliers.” Marlon had answered.

“Where’s the rest? I was expecting a full corps to roll through.” The Admin pulled some paper from a hidden enclave where a small makeshift closet office was.

Marlon nodded. “Lt. General Arnold allowed any squad to go ahead if they so chose to, but refused to sacrifice their horses to make the timeline the Strategic Office set.”

The sergeant felt weird wording it that way, but the time spent in the capital beat in military etiquette within the short span of four months. While not even up to the stuff of his given rank, it was enough for a squad that was essentially a ragtag group of draftees.

“Heh… That sounds like that Lt. general.” The Admin chuckled, his expression softening to reveal exhaustion.

“You alright, Sir?” Marlon asked.

“The operation has taken quite a toll on us paper pushers,” The officer said. “Up and down all day, forced to rest my head when I can. You aren’t the first ones through. Similarly, this force-march has scattered all the troops to the wind. Each arriving as fast as they can or following their own time. I was praying the next arrivals would come all at once – on schedule.”

“I believe we are on schedule,” Marlon said pointedly.

The officer smirked. “That you are. That’s more so pointed at the rest of your convoy that will arrive when they damn well please. Well, that’s enough of your time I’ve taken up of both our times night comes and the metal beasts become restless from what the scouts report.”

Passing through, Sargent Marlon pressed their four wagons through the town. As promised, they had arrived on the exact date their leaders picked for them. And stationed here… Was the general army itself. At least, a small portion of it. Dull grey armor could be picked out by the dozen along the main street. It cut directly across the town to the northern gate. Soldiers took up posts every 30 feet to the next gate. Archers even were patrolling across the roofs. Their eyes trained on the sky oddly.

The citizenry looked of a more rough and tumble sort. Different from rural little folk. These people were no doubt problem stock if they were out this far. Marlon may not have gotten a formal education, but being on the fringes of Godswood taught him that few people lived there willingly. They were not to be trifled with.

Fortunately, policing these people was not their objective.

The few people walking about at this time scattered upon seeing their quaint caravan. Shifty eyes sized them. Calculating ones attempted to picture what coin could part their hands. A few, however, looked at them with mockery. And of all the kinds of stares, this was the one he hated most. They were the ones that would most likely try something. But nothing happened. They went unmolested through the rough dirt streets, turning where prompted by the posted men. At the end of the line was the garrison.

Marlon could feel himself relax slightly once passing the threshold. Its massive thick wood doors shuttering inches from the rear of the last carriage.

The garrison was set up in a large circular fashion with a statue of the Emperor himself erected at its center. A large roundabout for carriages to ease in and out of the complex. The buildings surrounding the roundabout were two to four stories tall. Sentries stood watch on the rooftops. The tops of several ballistas were visible as well. And all of this was new, judging by the fresh-cut wood smell. In a rush no less if Marlon knew his carpentry. All the exposed wood sections were roughly cut, with plenty of excess wood that should’ve been cut before their job was finished.

A hastily built compound to house a hastily thrown-together subjugation force. All to kill off an unknown monster-type that supposedly appeared nearby. All in all, Marlon did not like this assignment one bit.

Not like he had much say in the matter though.

With horses directed to come to a halt as close to the buildings as they could, Marlon and the men disembarked. To greet them was another Administration officer who also checked his papers.

“Ah, Marlon of Godswood? The same that held the bridge?” The mousy-faced officer asked with raised eyebrows.

Marlon nodded.

“Ay. there’s another famous soldier amongst our ranks it seems,” The officer chuckled to himself before he gestured to follow. He led him and his men into the largest building – up unstained stairs and into a large office.

Marlon stood at the foot of the officer’s desk after he took his seat. Several stamps were slammed at the paper’s bottom, signed, and filed into a basket behind him. That was when he turned to address him and the other officers who’d come with him. “Now that the formalities are over. Can I ask you some unrelated questions?”

Marlon nodded his slowly, unsure of what it could be related them if not their deployment to the frontier.

“Did you guys really hold that bridge?” He asked. “... What I mean to ask is… Did you really hold off several assaults while holding the Godswood line?”

Marlon sighed… He was tired of answering this particular question. But the officer had a boyish delight in his eyes that told Marlon that this man was still looking for heroes in this world. “Yes. Our Lord… Failed to get a message to us about retreating. Because of this, we dug ourselves into the bridge. It was a long two hours of fighting.”

The officer’s eyes went wide in wonder, not noticing the distant looks of the Godswood officers.

“You and your men must be from good stock, or maybe you guys have a hardy training regiment? I have yet to see a lot of these men last longer than 30 minutes in training!” He beamed. “You must be proud of them for holding the line!”

Marlon gave a troubled smile. “Yes… Proud… We lost a lot of good men. We would have all been killed if we were not Godswood forest folk. We spent most of our days milling away in the forest. Logging. Scavenging. Fighting off the lesser monsters that have become part of the local fauna. It made us hardy and resilient. Enough to hold down to the survivors.”

He nodded. “My condolences. War is never easy from what I can tell. Millions of lives were lost in this war. Years we could have spent building up against the non-humans – wasted on infighting. At least its all coming to an end now. We’re back to exploring the frontier!”

“I thought we were here to fight off the unknown monster types that appeared?” Marlon asked.

“That too,” He laughed. “But the initial group from the empire was the exploration corps. They said the Emperor is keen on fighting for new resources to help push us back into a golden age. All we have to do is survive!”

Marlon agreed, just… without the officer’s enthusiasm. “Survive is the key part of that sentiment. Well. It’s been a long journey. I think I’ll be going retiring for the night.”

“Ah!” The officer yelped and stood up. “I almost forgot! Here, let me show you to your quarters! What you saw earlier wasn’t the whole garrison. Unfortunately, building and fortifications are behind schedule. You won't be sleeping in our quality beds tonight!”

He grinned, amused at his own joke, and led them back outside. The path he took seemed to be a sort of alleyway between the buildings and the new well they had built. It was wide enough for a single wagon. Beyond this section appeared to be a far older fort. Most likely the original fort itself. It looked like repairs had been done to it. And the old insignia of the previous order – the one killed by the new monsters – was still painted upon the closest building.

“The bones of the original fort was good, just needs shining up.” He said. “When we got here, we decided to keep it for housing since it could house the entirety of the incoming troops. The exploration corps themselves decided they would camp in the wilderness. They will report via Manabird every morning and night. So, you lot will get it all by yourself. And since you're the first here… Go ahead and pick whichever rooms you want. If the Lt. General complains, let him know to talk to me. Latecomers don't get to complain about getting the shitty rooms!”

Marlon sighed, already opting the pick the furthest room in the complex to avoid potential fights.

Looking up, he said a prayer of protection. For him. His men. For his family back home.

When he did, he noticed for the briefest moments a strange figure outlined in the dying light. He most likely would have missed it if he had blinked. But he stared at it as it curved slightly before turning towards the northern wildlands…

He felt it was a bad omen of what was to come…