Hope's Road

At some unholy hour of the morning, the very first rays of light would begin to creep in. Its dim glow shines through the cracked window of a neglected and disorderly room, gradually illuminating it and its sole resident. A lone griffon at rest, still clad in chain and plate, whose sleep has been hopelessly troubled. And as that gray light fills the room, the old soldier would awake with a sudden flinch.

For a moment longer, he remained motionless. His eyelids heavy, his limbs feeling as though they’ve been anchored down, and that horrible, sickly feeling of dread returning to his stomach. Or perhaps it had never left. Covering his face with his two talons, he let a deep breath out. However, regardless of his own wellness, he knew he’d have to force himself up and out the door. After all, there was no better choice in the matter.

A moment longer, and this lone knight has risen. One talon, then another, all bearing the weight of a burden no griff should carry. That same weight a leader dreads. A look in that cracked mirror, and a bit of tidying up. After all, it’d be a sin to appear anything but his best in such circumstances. Only the best, he’d demanded of himself.

Next he’d taken his sword. He’d long since stopped sleeping with it at his side, ever since this whole mess had turned his world upside down. After all, what good was a blade behind a wall? What good would it do him when he’d never see it coming? What good was it when a wall of spears and axes stood well in the way? As far as he was concerned, it was no more than ceremonial to wield it. The real weapon was a tactical mind.

Finally, his morning prayers. Perhaps in vain, perhaps not. But always necessary, as far as he was concerned. Whether answered or not, they gave him strength. Believing that he and those under his care were not alone, that was something powerful. It was that strength that allowed him to hold fast, and it is with that strength that he will see everyone through. Everyone left, that is.

Taking the chains locking his door shut down-- More a method of early warning than anything else-- the knight cracks it open. And not a moment longer, he sees himself out into that cold and dark hallway.

“Commander? You’re up early...” A voice just beside the door pipes up. Another griffon, posture perfect yet his appearance worn out and ragged.

Without answering at first, the knight simply nods. Then, as though he hadn’t heard, he’d softly ask, “The update,Théo?”

“Of course sir,” The guard hesitantly responds, clearing his throat and slipping a piece of parchment from his belt, “Doctors say the last of our poisoning victims either passed or recovered over the night. seventeen dead, but are expected to make a full recovery within…”

For a moment, he hesitates. The young griff casts a glance to his superior, whom only solemnly nods in response, “... Within the month.”

“I see. And what of the night sentry’s defense?” The knight would ask, turning toward the soldier with this look in his eye, as though he already knows the answer.

It’s a moment before he gets his answer. The young one checks the note, then once more. In the end, his answer is a simple, “Nothing to report.”

“Excuse me?” This gives the knight a moment of pause. Day in and day out, the undead were relentless. Never feeling fear nor exhaustion, they’d thrown themselves at their barricades and gates. To hear such news after so long? He was surprised to say the least. His eyes narrowed, he casts a glance to this parchment, cautiously ordering, “Give that here. Don’t you still feel the necromatic energy? That suffocating feeling in the air? That can’t be right.”

“That’s all they told me, sir.” The guardsgriff says in turn, relinquishing the paper, “And I believe it. Not counting our poisoning victims, not a thing has happened last night. Food and water stores are low, but stable enough.”

Despite his pessimistic certainty, no matter how many times the knight would skim through, the intel remained the same. It was exactly as he had said: This was an apparent calm amidst the raging storm around them. Processing this, he almost wasn’t even sure how to respond to such news.

Letting out a previously stifled breath, the knight quietly rolls the parchment up. He returns it, staring the guardsman down with those weary yet resolute eyes, “The night guard. Did you notice anything off about them? Anything at all, Théo?”

“No sir.”

The knight’s expression only darkens. While he wasn’t sure what vampire would be so foolish as to be so blatant, that was his only answer for this. Of course, there had to be something wrong on the front. For all he knew, they had already infiltrated and taken some of their meagre population. His mind racing with possibilities-- None of them good-- he knew something would need to be done.

“Well now,” He calmly begins, sparing a brief look down the hall, “I suppose we’ll just have to have a look. Would you please accompany me Théo?”

The young griffon perked up a little at this, his eyes wide. It wasn’t often that he was asked to accompany his superior. Typically, nobody ever does so! Despite this coming as some surprise to the griff, he’d bowed slightly and responded, “Of course, sir.”
On their brisk march down the hall, the guardsgriff’s mind would wander. Now, this sort of thing didn’t happen often, that much was true. So clearly, this had to be happening for a reason. He soon speaks up as his curiosity gets the better of him, “Sir Heidrich? What is it we’re doing?”

“What is it we’re doing?” The knight would repeat, never breaking his pace as his gaze flashes toward the guard, “It’s simple. You’ve heard the news around the fort, have you not?” Swiftly rounding a corner, the two begin looping down a spiral staircase, “Around the Order’s land, even?”

Keeping up with ease, Théo hops down step by step with incredible balance. At the knight’s questioning, he’d idly glance from the corner of his eye, “Yes sir. But to be fair, there’s a lot of that going around. News, I mean.”

“That is true, I suppose…” The commander would mutter under his breath, so low you could barely hear, “Vampires, necromancers. Both uncommon, but no less dangerous. And far more capable of infiltration than you may realize, Théo.”

The guard would shift around the knight as they draw closer to the exit. Grasping for the handle, he pauses a moment and quirks a brow at Heidrich, “You think they’ve tampered with the reports? Out of all the things, why that? Not like news is hard to spread here.”

Heidrich pauses a moment, giving his bodyguard a pensive stare. Then, nodding, he’d simply respond, “Of course, that’s no concern of mine. No necromancer nor vampire would be so foolish as to attempt such a thing,” He reassures, “It would be too much of a waste. Rather, I believe there may be something else wrong. Something off…” Something much, much more dreadful, Sir Heidrich had thought. Something most definitely worse.

The guard furrows his brow, “Suppose that’s right, sir. It never hurts to be careful.”

With that, the guard twists the handle and cracks the door open for his superior. A frosty wind wispily blowing its way on in, and that dim light shining on through, the two step outside and march off through the snow.

The fort was a dreary place. That much had always been true, being so far north and smothered by snowstorm after snowstorm. But after this whole mess had begun, it had changed. It wasn’t just the border, nor was it the loneliness of the location anymore. It was the smell of rotten or burnt flesh. The crushed bones of griffon and pony alike littering its darker corners. And perhaps above all else, the knowledge its residents held and feeling of helplessness such a curse bears.

Today, however, something was different. There was silence. The usual thick smoke poured out from in front of the barracks, as usual. Ponies and griffons both with uniform and without filtered through the streets and alleys doing all manner of work. Yet, amidst it all, the sound of combat was oddly absent. Without that, the fort held an almost deafening quiet. The knight didn’t-- No, he couldn’t let it show. But it unnerved him.

That walk took, or perhaps simply felt longer than it should have. Regardless, the duo soon found themselves at the northern barricade. Their fallback point after a section of the wall had come crumbling down, they’ve held on that front thus far. And now, he was going to see just how much longer that would be.

As soon as they arrive on the scene, his eyes dart from knight to levy. One, and another, and another, yet he comes up with nothing. He’d like to think he has an eye for spotting those suspicious few in the crowd, but amongst the saluting or bowing garrison, he didn’t catch a thing.

“Hoi there, Commander!” A voice calls from the roof above, “I take it you’ve seen the reports?”

Peering just over the edge was a pegasus stallion, all covered in plate and barely recognizable from down there. But the knight knew. Without him, this entire front was as good as gone. There would be no recovery. And here he was, as sprightly as ever. The North was still secure.

“Of course! You claim ‘nothing happened’, Erastos? Surely not.” The knight calls back.

“Well, there was something in the sense that there’s nothing.” The stallion says, shooting a little look beyond the barrier before waving up with a wing, “What I mean is, today nothing’s our something. Just get up here, have a look!”

So, the knight and the guardsgriff did. Taking off, one after the other, they quickly find themselves atop the roof. Slowing to a halt, they’re greeted by the pegasus who soon kneels down by the ledge and points with a hoof, “Look, down there. Course, nothing there. I bet you were already hearing silence on the way. And beyond that…” He pans out down the street, to the breach…

Empty. The bodies and bones from the burnings were still present, all scattered across the ground and broken beyond any sort of repair or use. Destroyed or lost weapon amongst them, yet none of them stirred to wield them. Nothing beyond that, as far as the eye can see. Wide eyed and bewildered, the knight motionlessly stood there, watching that horizon.

“I checked the Southern Gate as well as the guard securing the rivers. If you look close you can still spot some of them off in the distance, but they’ve yet to move.” He explains to the speechless griffon, stepping away from the ledge with a slight limp.

“Course, we’re still falling to pieces here. But it’s a nice change of pace, don’t you think?” He quietly mutters to the guardsgriff, who only gives a stiff nod in response. The stallion’s gaze shifting to the knight as he flips that visor of his up, he’d softly add, “‘Ey, so you’re his door guard. Has Heidrich been feeling well?”

The guard, about to respond, is soon cut off as the knight quickly steps away. A renewed, determined look in his eyes, the knight orders, “I need to know who we have available. The gods have provided us with an opportunity, I’m certain of that.”

“Who we have available?” The stallion quirks a brow at Heidrich, offering up a little smile, “Who we have available, huh? Well, not enough for a counter-attack, that’s for sure.”

“Not a counter-attack. You see, this isn’t Tarpain Rock. This is not even The End,” The knight explains, motioning outward, “Look at us, Erastos. I know you understand already; We’re wasting away behind these crumbling walls, that of which barely separates us from them. We’ve been dishonored, poisoned and shamed by those unholy abominations. Faith and hope for better days keep us standing, as do the iron will of the garrison, but for how long?” He hesitates. And for a second, he falters. The knight, as tall as he stood, almost appeared smaller in that moment. Yet no less determined to see things through, he softly adds, “We’ll go no further alone.”

Erastos’ expression falls, that little smirk fading from his lips. Nodding once, he gives his solemn response, “By Arcturius, I know. I’ve known.”

“We’re… We’re getting help, then?” Théo warily chimes in.

“Yes. Of course…” The Knight says, returning to the ledge. He starts scanning the ground below, watching the sentries and soldiers, “I understand we cannot send our best-- Anything close would mean death for those within our walls. But we may send our fastest to deliver a message.”

“That would be best, aye?” The stallion says, joining the knight by the ledge as that young griff behind them simply watched on, “Who, then? Don’t suppose we could see to the levies or civilians, then? There’s bound to be at least one natural courier amongst them.”

The knight simply nods along, silently mulling over his options. Then, glancing back from the corner of his eye, he’d beckon his bodyguard over with a talon, “Théo, come this way.”

To which his guard dutifully responds, stepping forward.

“I trust in you, my friend,” Heidrich would start, just as the two griffon stood side by side, “You’re from the local village, are you not? You understand the land and its people well. That more than anything is what we need right now.”

Théo simply gave an anxious little nod in response. He was no soldier, that much was certain. And that much showed, even after the both levy and knight had proven themselves time and time again, he’d had doubts. What the knight had to be suggesting here? The young soldier held his breath.

“I… We do need help.” The Knight reluctantly says, “We’ve held here, do not mistake me. But what we need more than anything is somebody to let the land beyond the horde know that life still continues here. We need a team of volunteers assembled, prepared and led by night. Can you do that for us, Théo?”

Dread filled the young griff. To go out there was surely suicide. But were he to never try? What then? Though his heart was beating out of his chest, his mind racing and fear palpable, he was quick to answer. After all, he’d known his answer all along, hadn’t he? After all, why else would he be so anxious?

“Yes, sir.”

The knight let out a breath, one he hadn’t even realized he held. The older griffon nods once more, “Thank you. Erastos, would you kindly help him get equipped?” To which the officer responds affirmatively. Finally, turning completely toward the young guard, the knight’s eyes would gaze into his, “I know you can do this. I’m counting on you.”

It’s a stiff nod the guard gives the knight, that uncertainty plaguing him and only growing deep in his gut. But he’s committed nonetheless. Turning away once more, Heidrich lets out a deep exhale. And thus, he uttered his final command, “Théo. You are dismissed.”

“Of-- Of course…” The guardsgriff responds, respectfully bowing his head. And with that, he himself turns away and begins to depart. He walks off, rears back and--

“Oi, where’re you headed off to?” The stallion swiftly interrupts, hobbling his way over with surprising speed, “He told you, you aren’t doing this alone. I’m here to see you get sorted!”

The griffon, of course, stops. But he finds himself at a loss, merely stuttering an incoherent, confused little mumble. The pegasus, narrowing his eyes at the kid, pauses himself. Then, closing that gap, one of his wings would grasp the griffon’s shoulder. With a gentler tone, he whispers, “Théo, was it? I’m sure you need a second just as much as Heidrich does. So how about we head down, have a seat for a moment and think things through? I’ll help you plan it all out, and you’ll be as prepared as we can make you, aye?”

With his beak shut tight, the guard gives another stiff, almost shaky nod. The stallion, in turn, gives the griffon a hearty pat on the back and a confident smirk, “Right. Let’s be on our way then. Even though they can, the undead won’t wait forever.”