Fable - Ask Darkest Night

"Who is in command here?" asked Kristen.

One of the surviving Guardsmen, known aptly by his fellows as "Cold Blood", took a perfunctory glance around. And then he said, "You are, ma'am."

Kristen tried to get a reckoning of their number, the Guardsmen, and she found the task shockingly easy. "Is this all that's left?"

Cold Blood held her gaze, and he gave his dour estimation: "Can't be much more."


They had been tasked to hold a forward position, blocking off a route by which the Cortosi forces might flank the Anirian advance upon the city of Maguilla. They had been assured of reinforcements by higher Anirian Command.

The reinforcements never came.

Yet, for days after which they were overdue, still it was believed by the detachment that the reinforcements would come. No one had trust in this more than Major Pilesdat himself, commanding officer of the detachment, and indeed, his steadfastness steeled his men. The detachment fended off probing attacks from the Cortosi, and still they waited. The detachment fended off the first assault upon their position, and still they waited. But when came the second assault—in overwhelming numbers as compared to the first—the Anirians broke. Not only had the Cortosi come from the front, but had through means unknown managed to nearly envelop the Guardsmen from the sides, from terrain thought to be impassable. All became chaos, and desperation reigned. Only the coming of night saved what Anirians still lived, and allowed for them the chance to run and regroup.

This regrouping happened upon a Hilltop. And there, under the light of the moon, would their fate be decided.


Can't be much more, Cold Blood had said.

Kristen felt the knot in her stomach tighten. First and with greater pain she thought of the woeful Guardsmen, they who had been her brothers and sisters-in-arms, either fallen at the forward position or run down by Cortosi outriders in the scattered retreat. Second, however, came the dread, the uncertainty...for, had this disaster been orchestrated by the cunning of Garron Banick, or was this all precisely as he said of Vel Anir itself, and Kristen, these Guardsmen, all of them, were viewed callously as disposable, expendable?

With an officer now on the Hilltop, the Guardsmen gathered round her. One of them asked: "What are your orders, ma'am?"

"We could make a run for it," interjected Miller, a strong lad, young like many of them, on his mandatory service. "All of us. Together."

"Maguilla is miles away," said Cold Blood. "And there's nothing but open plain between us and there. We'd be cut down to a man by outriders."

"But we can't stay here!" Miller protested with an innocent, though naive, earnest.

"We can, and we must," said Kristen. "Cold Blood is right. We would not survive a mad dash for Maguilla, and it would be folly to give up this defensible position."

"It's okay. The reinforcements will come," said Flower Girl, who, much like Miller, was young and recently enlisted, and who prior worked as her nickname suggested.

Silence followed this hopeful sentiment. Flower Girl began to glance around nervously, seeing in the moonlit faces of her comrades that none seemed to share her bright outlook. Kristen pitied the girl...and saw a bit of herself in her, from yesteryears which now felt a lifetime ago.

"They will come...right?" said Flower Girl.

Silence again.

And Kristen answered, "No." She drew in a breath. "We are on our own. Pray, if any gods dwell in your heart, that we live through the night."

Miller, now pale and wide-eyed, spoke up again, saying, "Lieutenant, what...is this to be our last stand?"

Kristen merely looked at him, and she need not say a word. In her visage she told no lie, and all knew now how dire their plight. Flower Girl clapped a hand over her mouth, dropping to her knees, as vomit leaked out from between her fingers.

Only a trickle more Anirians were coming up the rocky, singular path to the Hilltop. Barely a company were they, all told, against a potential legion of Cortosi, who could attack at their leisure.

The chill of night felt like the cold hand of death, reaching ever closer.

When Mortivore spoke, there came but a small comfort to the Guardsmen: at least two of the Dreadlords had survived. The Red Guard of Cortos hadn't slain them all.

"Come on," said Cold Blood to his fellows. "Let's give the Dreadlords some space."

Miller helped Flower Girl back to her feet, and then the gathered Guardsmen meandered away. Mortivore and Kristen needed not go so far themselves to effect privacy.

Kristen let out a sigh of relief. "Mortivore," she said, "It gladdens my heart to see that you yet live."

Major Pilesdat, their commander, Kristen knew for a grim fact was not so fortunate. A Cortosi blade skewered him, and Kristen had not been so far away in the battle to miss seeing the life fade from his eyes. It had not been long after that when the Anirians broke, and the wild flight began.

Mortivore Urn