“Beware the monster with one eye!” - Hysterical survivor of an ambush outside the city of Submersio, the day before the city's sacking.
For several days things went smoothly for the group. The Six Strangers rode fast and true, passing several more villages, once more keeping to the outskirts whenever possible. They were reluctant to spend time in any towns or villages unless they had to. The wagon was far from comfortable to sleep in, but the weariness of the previous day’s action made up for it.
The only thing that was concerning to Leo was nighttime. He spotted a single yellow glowing eye. It was coming from the outlying conifer forest. Pine trees had slowly replaced the oaks and maples as they pressed further north. The mysterious light never got bigger or closer, yet it followed them. It made Leo uneasy. The light reminded him of something, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
The only other person who saw this strange eye was Elizabeth. She agreed with Leo and felt the same way—a memory of a memory struggling to reach the surface. She didn’t want to raise the alarm until they could figure out what it was.
At one point, they had no choice but to stop. They spent a night in the town of Vetorefug. Mercifully the place was untouched, the Godshards there had evacuated, and the undead never attacked. Their reputation had already spread, and “the Six Strangers” were welcomed with open arms. All food and board were free, and they slept well for the first time on the journey.
A week had passed after their business in Ventoso when they entered the next big city, Submersio. It was a smaller city where many buildings sank into the mud and bog—a troubled city with a troubled history.
The group rode slowly and cautiously as they entered. This time they hoped just to pass through. There was nobody in what felt like an eerie repeat of Ventoso. Even by the city’s standards, it was deserted. Buildings were empty, the market was closed, and the temple was untouched. Dust was building on top of its stalls, and the doors hung open in the breeze.
“This again?” grumbled Elizabeth as she pulled out her guisarme.
Etheros scanned the crumbling edifice and said, “I don’t sense anyone. If there was danger here, I’d be able to tell.”
“Agreed,” said Petro.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and retorted, “That still doesn’t explain why it’s empty.”
“Submersio has always been troubled,” Martin said with a dismissive wave. “It’s nothing new. There are entire books written of its woes. Any hope the city had was tarnished when Primus attacked.”
Leo turned to Martin, perplexed by his nonchalance. “But there were still people. Even Ravensend had some scattered souls.”
Martin raised his eyebrows. “Did they really need a reason to finally cut their losses?”
Leo shrugged and said, “I guess not, but the timing would be abysmal.”
“There’s never good timing for such an action," Petro said, sheathing his sword. “Perhaps this is a good thing. The last thing we want is more trouble.”
“That’s true,” Leo said, nodding.
“What’s that over there!” Martin said, pointing up ahead.
An array of shining metal appeared on the horizon, turning the corner. A slow rumble came next, followed by the whinnying of unicorns.
“Lanze Spezzate!” exclaimed Leo.
Petro scratched his head. “Why do nobili need to act as mercenari? Don’t they already have enough money?”
“At least they’re doing something useful,” replied Elizabeth.
Martin nodded. “Besides, you know how much it costs to maintain such equipment? Or to keep their steeds healthy?”
The riders were covered head to toe in plate armor; their armets held tall and intricate crests. Colorful tabards were adorned over their thick breastplates and shoulder pads. They had small shields and heavy lances.
Their unicorns were massive, far bigger than even a maxime horse. Black and white, their eyes burned with a passion rarely seen in such beasts. They were also covered in plate, and even their horns had spikes attached.
Row after row of heavy metal trotted down the path. As they grew closer, it became apparent many of their lances were broken, some had arrows sticking out of their armor, and others were dented.
“They were just attacked,” noted Leo.
“Should we ask them what happened?” asked Annabelle.
“It might be a good idea. I’ll handle this.” Leo hopped out of the wagon and waved them down. A nobile pushed to the front of the column. In place of his helmet, he wore a tremendous red cap nearly as tall. He had silvering hair, stoic eyes, and a rugged face. His right arm was made entirely of metal, shimmering of star iron, colored in his livery. “Ah, Claudius Ironhand.”
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“What happened to his arm?” asked Petro.
“He lost it in battle. Years ago, a rampaging leviathan rose from the shore and attacked Raveno. The city would have fallen had it not been for the combined efforts of both our compagnie. He lost his arm as he battled the beast. In gratitude, Signore Alessandro gifted him his new metal one.”
“He lost it saving Filippo,” grumbled Annabelle. “He was eight then. I remember it when it was the talk of the town.”
“Well, Filippo was still a boy,” murmured Elizabeth.
Annabelle scoffed. “Please, I heard he was always a brat.”
Martin tilted his head. “That was thirty years ago. How old are you?”
Annabelle rolled her eyes. “I’m forty years old. I know I’m not remarkable, but I’m still a Godshard; we age slower.”
Etheros turned to her, his face soft. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
“Alright, let’s see how this goes,” said Leo as Claudius approached the group. “Saluti Maestro Claudius.”
Claudius squinted before his face lit up. “Ah, Leo della Guardia Grifone! Come sta il capitano?”
“Tenente now.”
“Congratulations,” Claudius said, beaming. “At this rate, you might end up as generale soon!”
Leo huffed. “Let’s hope not.”
“What is your bidding?” He looked over the group. Etheros stared acutely at the man. “Such strange friends you have.”
Leo shrugged and said, “These are strange times.”
Claudius peered over, intrigue in his eyes. “Are those Godshards? What a rare sight at present. Daemons are taking them, I hear.”
“The rumors are true. We’re headed to the Island City to keep them safe.” Leo gestured to the other riders. “Any warning or advice for what’s up ahead? You seem to have been attacked.”
Claudius frowned. “Indeed, a Maelim warband attacked this city two weeks prior. Aggressive riders, ravagers who came without warning. The cittadini hired our services. It was a good change of pace from the blasted undead. The cittadini fled. Last I heard, they were heading to Ventoso. A lot of people are saying it’s a safe haven in these trying times.”
“And what about the Maelim?” asked Elizabeth, tired of the idle chat.
Claudius raised his arm, the hydraulics in the apparatus whirring as he puffed himself up. “They were good, but they were no match for us! When it comes to our cavalleria, we are peerless! Your path should be clear.”
Leo nodded. “That’s good to hear. Where are you off to now?”
“Signore Alessandro has summoned us to Raveno. Something has him on the warpath. Probably a petty dispute. Easy money. Terra knows he’s a senile old man these days.”
“I see. Take care!”
“You as well!” Claudius whipped forward, rejoining the others. Soon the riders were out of sight, leaving the city behind them.
Etheros grumbled.
“What’s wrong?” asked Leo as he hopped aboard.
Etheros eyes narrowed, the glowing lights dimming. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw it too,” said Petro.
“Do you think he’s lying?” asked Martin, his voice terse.
“You don’t have to lie to be used for deceit,” murmured Etheros.
Petro nodded. “Indeed, he was truthful, but something tells me things are not what they seem.”
“What are we gonna do then?” asked Leo.
“We just need to be on our guard,” answered Etheros. “The journey isn’t over yet. We’re still a few days’ ride from the Island City.”
They exited the city, and the number of trees gradually grew more numerous as they pushed forward. They were tense, and everyone kept their guard up. Every pine became a potential hiding place; each boulder was dangerous. Etheros had tried to reassure them that those among them with Soulsight would be able to give a heads up before any attack, but it was of little comfort to Leo. The rest of the day continued like this. Leo was tense, his muscles tight. He rubbed his temples, desperate to lessen the pounding in his head.
As night fell, the harbinger of their troubles made its presence known.
Leo saw the eye again.
Elizabeth too. It was brighter than before and was moving ever so slightly closer. Etheros frowned, and Annabelle and Petro did as well. They all looked toward the glowing eye before Leo said anything.
“What is that?” asked Martin.
“I don’t know. It’s been trailing us for a few days. It’s never been this close,” replied Leo.
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “It looks familiar, but I can’t say from where.”
“Same.”
Petro shuddered. “Maybe next time, report that sooner.”
“Indeed,” grumbled Etheros. “Cause we got company now.”
“I’m sorry,” said Leo. “We didn’t want to worry the others, and I wasn’t even sure it was an eye ’til now.”
Etheros turned back toward the others. “Hang on tight.” He whipped forward, driving the wagon faster. Magnus and Rubert lived up to their maxime heritage as they blazed down the road.
And yet the glowing eye kept pace. Leo found himself drawn to it, even in the tumult. They rode through the night, the yellow light unceasingly following, getting closer and closer. It was high in the trees, no less than ten feet tall.
“What is that thing?” muttered Petro. “It’s not a Maelim, and a leviathan would be bigger.”
“Maybe a true Nephilim?” replied Martin.
Leo turned to Martin. “What kind of Neph can go that fast?”
“Much like their Novalim descendants, true Nephilim can vary widely in shape and size,” said Etheros.
Dawn broke, and the trees thinned, abandoning them to the danger slowly closing in. The grey morning sun slowly illuminated a massive figure. It was galloping toward them. Leo couldn’t tell where the rider ended and mount began.
Leo gasped, and the memories came flooding back.
Leo and Giovanni had been hired along with other rag-tag mercenari to defend the village of Venci. It was a poor venture. They stood no chance. The town was destroyed, and their forces routed. The ravagers outnumbered them. Their arrows were as numerous as raindrops, and their lances were swift.
Giovanni was dead, pierced by a giant arrow the size of a tree trunk. His body lay at the feet of a monster. He had the lower body of a horse and the upper body of a man, covered in scale and mail. A long, intricately braided black beard rained from his chin. He had only one good eye, which glowed yellow like a parody of the sun. Flames surrounded them. Smoke trailed up into the heavens.
All Leo could do was play dead. He’d pressed himself against the ground, was appearing to have been crushed by rubble. He struggled to hold his breath and fought hard to avoid whimpering or crying. All he could remember was that eye.
That cursed eye.
“Ireo is his name!” Elizabeth spat. “Bringer of Wrath!”
Leo turned toward her. “You know him too?”
Elizabeth turned to him. “Yes, he was the one who destroyed my village and slaughtered my family!”
“He was the one who killed Gio.”
“This marauder gets around,” said Petro.
“When your warband is as swift as his, you can go anywhere you want to,” muttered Etheros.
The sun rose and, with it, the true scope of their peril.