A Spark in the Wind

Chapter 01: The Green Messenger

Lord Vilyánur Sarmäcil, grand-centurion of Legion VI, watched attentively as the knights galloped past the scarecrow, showering the hay body with a storm of arrows. Some of them glanced off the light lamellar padding, but a great many found their mark, delivering what would've been a fatal blow had it been a foe condemned by their lord.

"Elites," his second-in-command, Sir Glarion the Brave commented, "worth every copper."

"I know, and I'm glad to have them by my side," Vil replied, "I'm sure they'd serve me well in battle. I'd like them to be my personal retinue, and accompany me in my endeavours."

"That they will without question, the king handpicked them for you, my lord."

"Aye, give my regards to Uncle. Tell him I loved his gift and would cherish it."

"I will, sir," Glarion bowed low, "maybe you will find a good use for them next campaign. I and my knights are few days from retirement anyway."

"Yes..." Vil gave a fading reply, his mind distracted by something else.

"Vil...?" Glarion gave him a sight of query, snapping him out of his reverie. "You missed home, didn't you? Heh, I know what a year of campaigning will do to a young soldier like yourself, even if it is a praetorian like you or me. Get some rest, you deserve it."

Sadly, someone kinless as Glarion could never know what he was concerned about, and neither would most of his folk: something that only sickens those with people dear to them.

"Yes, I missed home," said Vil in an absentminded voice, "I spent too many years in the desert, and the spring warmth is a welcome change, though ominous in a certain fashion."

"You'll get used to it in no time, that I am sure of."

"That I hope," he replied somewhat dully. "I think I should retire soon, I need to get-"

"My lord! Look to the skies!"

They all looked up in unison, seeing a green comet sear across the morning sky. "Beautiful," Glarion commented, "isn't every day you see something like that."

"No," Vil replied, somewhat in concern. "No indeed, at least not that colour."

Glarion turned to Vil. "My lord?"

"I don't get it . . . why would it be green? I've never seen such a thing. Comets of yellow and blue there are plenty, but none of our records report a green comet."

"Perhaps because they're rare," said Glarion, "which only makes it that much better."

"Unless . . . it's not a comet, it's a meteor," said Vil, "but not one of ordinary nature."

Their faces went pale; the shifting winds brought with itself a stench of dread. They all could feel it – the gloom was growing, something horrible was about to happen.

As the whistling of the meteor got louder and louder, they saw it near them. In a gasp of horror and dread, they realised. "It's heading towards us," said a knight, "take cover!"

Much panic was roused in the camp, the soldiers and servants huddled for safety as the meteor neared them. "My lord!" a knight called for Vilyánur, who just stood there dumbly without any movement. "Take cover!"

"Nay, do not fear, it's not heading towards us."

Some of the soldiers stopped, the others kept running, adding to the cries of fear, but Vilyánur and his retinue just stood there looking at the course of the meteor.

...

Four minutes later the meteor landed in the dense thickets just off Angdor, exploding with a clap of thunder and bright flash of green light. The shock rippled through the land, leaving soldiers and servants alike in discomfort with ringing ears.