18 And So It Begins.

VILT STOOD BESIDE the little cot, which held the viral woman. Wallow seemed almost like a child; she looked small, hardly someone who could touch dark magic, who could wield powers that were the stuff of nightmares for most folk.

The medicus fussed over Wallow’s wounds, prodding, and probing as the mage groaned. Those wounds didn’t bleed of course, but there was a lot of damage to the viral’s body, bones exposed, broken, and a hole through her chest. Vilt didn’t know how much damage a viral could take before they were destroyed, but surely Wallow couldn’t have taken much more.

Virals also had a higher tolerance for pain, although the fact that the undead felt it at all still confused her. She’d tried discussing it with Grudge once, but the man’s mind wasn’t built for such ruminations.

‘I need to speak with her,’ the captain instructed, wincing at the shock of thunder vibrating through the old brick fort. Vilt knew it was no natural storm out there, but magic. A soldier’s worst nightmare. There wasn’t a greencloak in the legions who wanted to face magic. It was a total mismatch, neither sword or spear of any use. Against such forces, a person could do nothing but hunker down, and wait for it to end.

The Medicus, wearing one of those old Atlantian inventions on his nose, which made his eyes look ridiculously large, glanced up at her. ‘She needs rest. She may be a viral, but the damage done to her was extensive, and considering she is not technically alive, there is little I can do. Nothing, in fact.’

Now Vilt was an understanding sort of woman. She’d had a drunk bastard for a father who’d raped and beat her and her two sisters on a near-nightly basis, but she’d come to understand why such things occurred. She’d even had some forgiveness in her heart as she’d laid the old bastard down into his grave, one she’d dug herself. The fact she’d killed him with a knife to his neck as he lay on top of her was beside the point.

Forgiveness was something the angels appreciated, and so she’d given him that much. It was one of the reasons she’d found herself so fond of Grudge, at first. Not that she’d ever expected to fall in love, but the man understood her; she’d told him everything one night. He’d had his own darkness to deal with, which he did in his own unique way. They’d come to understand one another in a way that was special.

However, right then inside the old fort, with the Spectrum knew what horrors bearing down on them, she found herself all out of understanding. The fact she was holding the Medicus by the scruff of his grey robes, growling and spitting in his face, surprised her somewhat. She’d thought she’d gotten over those fits of rage some time ago. Grudge did have a calming effect on her. ‘Can’t you hear it out there, you old imbecile? There is going to be no later. I will speak to her, right now!’

The man began to protest, and so she shook him harder. It seemed the thing to do, and it worked. When she set him back down on the floor, only then realising she’d been holding his scrawny ass off it, he gibbered, turned, and vacated the room in a rush.

Minutes later, the door opened and Marshal Janus entered. The woman wore a marshal’s black uniform with braided cuffs and shoulders in gold and silver, the swal wrappings on her legs also black. The imperatrix had since outfitted most of the soldiers with bronze or iron greaves, but the marshal was a traditionalist.

Vilt often wondered why they wore dark colours, although she recalled that Sarscha Todralan, when she’d been imperial marshal, had not. Maybe it was because they presided over so much death.

‘Anything useful?’ Janus demanded, without a word about the viral’s well-being.

Vilt ignored her and leaned closer to Wallow, stroking her hair, which had turned white, though her face still looked youthful. The mage opened her eyes and looked up.

‘What happened out there?’ asked Vilt in a soft voice. She wanted to ask how she was feeling, or if there was anything she could do, but she was a soldier first and had her duty.

The mage didn’t seem disoriented, although she had a little difficulty speaking at first, before she said, ‘They were waiting.’

‘How many? Wals, how many were there? What were they?’

The viral’s eyes widened a little. ‘Tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands.’ She paused and then added, ‘Maybe millions. They stretched across the horizon, and as far back as I could see. One minute they weren’t there. We never sensed them, but then ...’

‘The other mages. Where are they?’ Of course, Vilt was no fool and understood there was no one else coming back, but they were all blind too. They needed to know what they faced. ‘Wals, the others?’

‘Lightning struck from the sky, and then the ground opened beneath us. Lots of teeth, and jaws. And then, they came.’

‘Who?’ the marshal demanded stepping closer, leaning in with that constant leer she wore.

‘Who were they?’ asked Vilt. ‘Wals, please, who did this to you?’

After a long pause, the viral mumbled, ‘The angel dead. Wights. The Fallen. Titans. Chimera, harpies – all the forces of the Darkness gathered against us.’

Vilt heard Janus give a snort of derision, but Vilt continued to ignore the woman.

‘We fought,’ said Wallow, ‘as hard as we could, but they were too many. We tried to retreat, to get back ...’

Janus snorted again and straightened, but the captain turned with a glare for the woman. ‘Something to add, marshal?’ Irreverence and rudeness were what the likes of Janus had come to expect from her, and she didn’t want to disappoint. She’d already spent two days in lock up for punching an officer out cold. It was Grudge who’d gotten her out in the end. Her reputation sort of preceded her.

The woman’s face reddened. ‘I thought she might have something useful to tell us, like what happened? The number of enemies, their formations.’

‘She just told us, you idiot.’ It seemed patience had abandoned her, right after understanding had left the room. ‘They’re endless in number, and they’ve got wights, and titans with them. Isn’t that enough for you?’

Janus’ face turned a darker shade as she loomed over her, but Vilt just felt like stabbing the woman. Thankfully she had more control in such situations than Grudge. When he got mad, it was always wise to stay clear of him no matter what your rank was. Even Janus knew that.

Vilt held her friend’s hand, which was cold and death-like, but that was normal for a viral. ‘You’re going to be okay,’ she whispered to her. ‘You hear me, Wals, you’re going to be just fine.’

‘They’re coming,’ was all Wallow whispered in reply. ‘They’re coming.’