Dawn of the Nephilim

61. A look at the other side

Some men say they never get used to the screams. Pathetic. The wounded were dealt with and forgotten in Monno's eyes, not worthy of attention. He was blind to the sight of them laying on the ground, some wailing and screaming. Fallen brothers and sisters yes, but they had now become a liability. And no liability was acceptable. Only the smell was hard to ignore. Thirty men dead and another twenty wounded, not exactly sunshine and rainbows, as far as that was concerned. Shaking his head he had to admit he had underestimated the enemy. In all my twenty years of service I never encountered their like.

Some vague warnings had been conveyed from higher up – vague of necessity, because a smaller group had already been wiped out. But nothing had prepared his attack group for what they encountered. The enemy had been fast and strong. And they had possessed magic he had never even heard of. They had killed of a number of his best magicians. Blocking every single arrow shot at an entire group? I barely believe it even now. He gritted his teeth as he thought about the perfect ambush they had set. They had been so close, should have succeeded. Now here we are, next to this cursed forest. Licking our wounds and humiliated like never before.

"Commander. "

Monno perked up. "What is it Mamba?" He sort of liked his second in command. A strong man, stocky and simple. A man that knew how to lead in battle, but not how to plan. No threat to him, but extremely handy to have at his side. Mamba snorted. With his huge hawk-like nose, that was quite an impressive sound. Mamba spit out a large bulge of phlegm and scratched a dirty finger through even dirtier ruffled black hairs. A good man, but cocky.

"Why haven't we gone after them yet commander? We still have over a hundred men battle ready. We were surprised once, but that won't happen again."

Monno stared at the man for a moment. Intrigued rather than offended at the apparent lack of trust in his orders. Yet at the same time, he stood staring at him with empty brown eyes, stupid as a goat. He forced himself to put on a stern face. "We're not going after them Mamba."

"What?! Our brothers and sisters deserve vengeance. We can't just..."

Monno raised his eyebrows and stared the man in front of him down. Mamba averted his eyes to the ground and mumbled an apology. "I'm sorry commander. It's just... I lost some good fighters out there. And I don't understand why we're not going after them."

A forgiving smile curled across Monno's lips. Even a loyal dog needs the boot sometimes. "It's alright Mamba. Orders have come in from some of the higher ups. They have decided to put... other assets to the chase." He felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought of these 'assets'. Monno frowned in confusion, but did not ask for clarification.

Good man. "What we will do instead, is travel to the location where the others are gathering. Gaïns group should be finished with that pesky village by now. Our time of hiding is finally over. The moment has come to claim our rightful place as rulers, no longer steering events from the shadows." The man in front of him perked up with hopeful eyes, drawing another supercilious smile from Monno.

"What do we do with the wounded though commander? Some of them are unfit for travel."

"Those that can keep up can come along. Release the others from their misery." Mamba replied with a curd nod, and turned around grimfaced, to convey Monno's commands.

Monno turned around towards the river, clasping his hands behind his back. A soft morning breeze cooperated with the rising sun to elicit a staggering display of light from the water. A lock of brown hair was blown from his face. No gray hairs yet. Who could have ever imagined that he would age well? Hills, sun and water. He was proud that he hadn't gone blind to beauty in his life. Not many men his age could say the same. It proved that underneath it all he was still human.

Behind him pitiful cries emerged. He scowled at the disturbance. What wretches do the wounded become, losing all grace. I wonder what's so addictive about misery that nobody wants to be free from it. He heaved a sigh and kept on staring at the river. So many believed them to be simple mercenary guilds. If only it were that simple. A wry smile crept over his face. Soon this world will burn, and see us for what we really are. Kings and kingdoms shall fall, and out of it, the order shall rise.

The screams had abated. With a broad smile on his face he energetically turned around. "Move out, we march to Jarred's peak."