Remnants

A smoking suit of empty armor leaked ash. A broken spear rested beside it. The overlord was dead. This meant the battle was over, they won. They actually won? Why didn’t he feel relieved?

Adam rubbed the back of his neck and felt divots of the sigil carved into his flesh.

Perhaps that was the reason.

The mark House Hannover gifted remained a constant reminder of his hatred. They killed his brother. He killed their youngest son. The only difference was they got away with it, while he rotted on a battlefield protecting their interests.

The firing position dug earlier was a good enough place to stew in his juices, to lean back, hug his rifle, and dream of revenge. The grave shaped hole was lined his affinity material, stones of various shapes and sizes. A wood cannon cart toppled over the front gave him cover from airborne projectiles. He heard the lords of House Hannover laughing from their protected mansions. Fingers clenching cold steel squirmed against each other.

“I did this for my squad. House Hannover can rot in hell as vampire cattle,” Adam stewed until some deep breaths centered his head, “This isn’t accomplishing anything. I can think about them later. We need to survive. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not over. Am I insane?”

He glanced across the hill. Frederika quietly stitched their captain and Roxanne stood guard.

The rifle clicked as he crawled toward the front of opening of his emplacement and stared over the horizon. He raised the weapon to peer through his sights. In front of him, the white haze settled along with the sun. Soon it would be dark. If the vampires fought like this in the sun, what could they do at night? A chill shuddered down his spine.

The sights turned left. He heard cannon fire in the distance. The white haze wasn’t settling here. Wasn’t that haze beyond the vampire’s range? From what he’d observed, it was. The sights turned right, slightly more distant he observed another fog cloud obscuring the battlefield.

Though he heard nothing from the south, he realized they sat in a clearing between two clouds of pale dust. The realization sent a stronger shiver down his spine as he remembered the screeches. He aimed his rifle at the empty armor, still smoking, still blowing tufts of ash from the holes.

The rifle sights centered on distant creaking. A lone skeleton wandered as if confused in the valley ahead, back and forth along the dirt road between burnt broken forests. The bone debris nearby was thin, incredibly scattered, as if much was quietly pushed aside. But in the distance, through his scope, piles of powder sat waiting.

Another marble bullet with a silver tip pressed into the rifle's chamber. He inserted the powder packet into the proper slot, closed it, and cocked the trigger mechanism.

“Do not tell me you have companions,” he groaned.

In any case, he had to warn the others. Without Kurl, the best course of action was getting somewhere else, anywhere else, hiding until it was over. But then his palm slapped over the winged spear insignia centering his sigil. Hiding wasn’t an option. Adam yelled a curse.

He stumbled from the enclosure with his rifle in one hand and pointing back at the milky clouds with the others, “I think there are more of them. At least two, one to the south, another in the north. Same affinity, just as strong if not stronger. It screamed for reinforcements; we may not have much time.”

“Impossible,” Roxanne said, “Your paranoid. There can’t be that many like him so close together.”

Stitches interlaced tightly about Kurl’s neck. Thread snapped apart at the edge of a tarnish blade. Frederika grabbed the ivory blade and slid it out carefully. It wasn’t lodged tightly and she was careful not to aggravate the wound. The bleeding remained a slow trickle, so she sighed with relief. She washed her hands in distilled medical alcohol and applied a slight coating of silver oxide powder.

“I don’t think it pierced anything vital,” Frederika ignored Adam while inspecting the wound, “No sign of a bowel rupture. It’s too low for the liver. We have to hope the damage is superficial. I’ll stitch it superficially and wrap it in bandages. She rolled Kurl on his side, looked for heavy bleeding but found none despite the wound. She decided against stitching heavily; it needed to drain. She sutured it so it wouldn’t tear easily, then padded with gauze. Once she stitched both sides. She wrapped Kurl’s torso heavily and laid him supine, replacing his uniform down, “I think he’ll be fine for now. He’s suffering mana depletion. I’ve done everything I can do.”

“So, what do we do now? We killed their general. So, who is coming to save us? Our captain needs medical attention,” Roxanne set the empty tanks upright by the overstuffed backpack.

“Are you even listening?” Adam asked, “We might have two enormous problems here!”

Someone approached from behind. Roxanne’s axe came free of its harness. She jumped with the weapon upraised but halted herself. A small group of Polish conscripts, still very much human, approached with muskets on their back. Their corporal saluted as Roxanne lowered the weapon.

“Announce yourselves! I thought you were legion!”

“Sorry. We saw the battle mam, the whole thing. We thought we should come this way and see if we could be of assistance.”

“Unless you have a really good doctor,” she shifted her hip, “You can take the abandoned positions around the hill and try not to die. Or you can retreat. Are any of you mages.”

“I’m a talent of cheese,” one offered.

“Oh,” Roxanne rubbed her head, “I think I’m going crazy.”

“I’m a lower-level talent of albite.”

The remaining soldiers shook their head, “We’re mostly no mana conscripts.”

“Send word to Tarnobrzeg, we defeated the overlord. Our captain is injured. Send a recovery team. We’ll hold the hill until they arrive.”

“There are two more,” the corporal said.

Adam peered from his bunker to watch the conversation angrily.

“Say that again?” Roxanne pointed a big axe at the corporal’s plump nose, “One more time.”

“There are two more vampire lords, one confirmed in the north and the other in the south. We only realized it when they separated to dismantle the trenches. But you collapsed the center. That’s the worst one. The others should be a piece of cheese!”

Fingers gripped at her axe as it rested over her shoulder, “I really do think I’m going crazy. We need reinforcements! Are there any reinforcements?”

“We’re retreating back to the city as we can. You should go to. We have no carts, but you are welcome to come with us. We can put your captain on a stretcher.”

“Great, you have a medical staff!?”

“No, they’re dead. But we have a stretcher.”