The Arrival.

Arthur.

The weight of the bucket of water dragged my shoulders down with it as I carried it from the nearby lake. On my way, I saw a couple of pigs hop over Mr. Lewis’ fence and try to run away. I quickly put the bucket down, splashing water on my hands and pants and spilling some on the muddy ground. I ran as fast as I could towards the pigs to scare them back, tripping over a fallen branch and falling face first into the mud.

The pigs quickly ran back to the pen, and jumped over the fence and back in. I sighed with relief as I got up from the mud and cleaned myself. I went back to the bucket and carried it again, taking it across the village to our small stead.

“Whoa, boy, what happened to you?” My dad turned to me, and put down his hammer on the anvil.

“Mr. Lewis’ pigs got out again,” I said, as I pried the seal of the barrel open.

“Heh, Eighth time this week,” He took the hammer again.

“He has to make the fence taller.” I poured water from the bucket to the barrel.

I finished pouring the water into the barrel, then called on my brother to help me carry it to the cow pen.

“Come on, now, can’t you even carry a small barrel for three feet on your own?” He got up from the doorstep, frowning.

“No, I can’t. Now, stop being a lazy idiot and come carry this with me. Cows won’t give themselves water.”

He finally came to help, and we carried the barrel over to our cow pen, putting it in the corner and leaving it open. The cows quickly ran to it and started drinking from it, shaking it slightly and spilling some water on the ground.

As we got out of the pen, the red glow of the rising sun shone in our eyes, reflecting over the water puddles in the pen. My dad put down his hammer on the bench, then came out and closed the shop. “Alright, boys, let’s head out.”

My brother and I made sure one last time that the pen and house doors were closed, then we walked over to our dad, who was standing at the beginning of the grass pathway, waiting for us.

We walked across the village, and behind Mr. Lewis’ house, where I saw the same pigs that I had to chase about ten minutes ago sleeping peacefully inside that fence. Then, we entered our village’s church, pushing over the squeaking oak wood doors.

“Greetings! Mr. Smith! Always here on time,” Mr. Moore, our priest, waved at us warmly, then shook each of our hands as we sat on the benches.

“I see no one came yet;” My dad looked over at the empty church chairs.

“Ah, well, I’m sure they will come,” Mr. Moore smiled, disappearing behind the altar.

I got up from my chair, went to the nearby bookshelves, grabbed a book from it, then came back to sit down. I blew the dust away from the book to read the title, which was written in cursive gold letters.

”Solum et Ferrum - A truth to be read.”

“Have you read Varylen yet?” My brother nudged me, rubbing the book in my hand.

“Haven’t reached that yet, why?”

“Varylen is all about prophecies and stuff like that, I have read it multiple times. You should definitely get to that chapter.” My dad interrupted.

I opened the book to page four-hundred and one, where the start of Varylen was, the title of the chapter was written in bold black cursive at the top of the page, and below it was the actual text.

“Man must not be the one to fear what is to come, for time shall never harm those who art pleasing The Spirits. The blessings shall be upon them, and goods and sustenance will grow out of their earth as crops grow out of soil.” Varylen 1:1. Quite inspirational.

I read through it while waiting for the rest of the people to come so that the service may start. After around five minutes of waiting and reading, the benches were finally full, and Mr. Moore got on top of the stage to start the service.

“Dear attendees,” He waved his hands at us, “We have gathered today to honor our Mighty Lords.”

He raised his right hand up, and opened a book that was on the altar with his other hand, glancing at it slightly. “In the name of the Forces - The Mighty Lords of the Land.”

He then started reading off Marylem, the chapter of the Solum et Ferrum we had reached in the morning services, and we repeated after him, with our right hands raised up like his.

After about twenty minutes of reading, he dropped his hand, and so did we. He then disappeared off inside the church, cueing us that the service was done with. My dad, brother, and I got up and left the church, heading back to our house.

On our way home, I saw Mr. Albert, our village’s clerk, leaving his little crib from the backdoor in a hurry. He seemed really troubled, and somewhat trembling, as he quietly locked the door, and rushed out into the fields. I wanted to ask my dad about it but it did not seem important enough.

“Hey, Arthur, I bet you can’t beat me in a race home right now!” My brother smirked, stopping dead in his tracks.

“Oh, come on, now. We’re grown adults, you idiot,” I sighed, pushing him forward.

“You just know I’ll outrun you any time,”

“Mhm, and that only means that you are better at running away, William.” My dad replied to him, giggling.

I burst out laughing, and William just frowns and continues walking forward.

“Alright, boys, you’re gonna help me today,” Dad turned to us, smiling gently.

“With what?” I replied curiously.

“I’ve got a new request by Mr. Albert for new golems to be sent to the southern part of town, and I need you to help gather what I need to fulfill that.”

“Oooo! Are you gonna teach us how to make those golems?” William stole that question right out of my tongue.

“No, you are yet to be ready for that. Your task will be to gather pumpkins, carve them, then bring them to me.”

“Carve them into what?” I crossed my hands.

“Faces. Whatever faces you want. Just carve them and get them to me, and you may watch while we make the golems. Now go! We need six new golems, so get six pumpkins”

William and I ran into our crop farm, heading towards the left corner where my dad grows his pumpkins. He told us once long ago that those seeds were given to him by grandpa, whom we never got to meet.

“We need six pumpkins, so you get three, and I’ll get three,” William pointed out, smirking like he discovered fire for the first time.

“Well, no crap. That’s how division works,”

I grabbed a knife from the tool barrel, picked three pumpkins from the pile, then carried theù out into the open wind. I kneeled on the grass, and started carving. I had no clue what on Earth I was doing until I was done.

The result was three pumpkins with squared eyes and an…ill-shaped mouth, to say the least. I never was the carpenter type. William brought out his pumpkins already carved into a shape I can only describe as ridiculous. They had little vertical rectangles as noses and what seemed to be failed attempts to make a circle as eyes.

“Mine looks better!” He carried his pumpkins, smiling.

“Riiiight,”

We carried the pumpkins to our dad’s shop, and found that he had already started working. There were six iron bodies, shaped like a T, aligned on a row across the shop. Mr. Albert was there too, he was carrying a bottle of some strange purple liquid, smiling forcefully.

“Thank you, boys,” Dad carried our pumpkins in, and put each one on the top of each iron body.

I felt a little tense watching this, and I guess William did too, because we both synchronously walked to the far end of the shop, and leaned against the wall to watch.

Mr. Albert got up, and opened up the bottle of purple liquid he was carrying. A scent of lavender and something else I couldn’t make out quickly filled the shop. He poured some of that liquid over each of the bodies, making sure that it completely covered the middle section by wiping it in with a little cloth he had in his other hand.

The substance was quite sticky, and its smell was intense, but Mr. Albert poured the rest of it on the ground in front of the statues. It seemed to make a lot of bubbles when touching the green grass.

“Wow,” William whispered to me, staring intensely.

The bubbles quickly popped, and the ground in front of the statues was still covered in the same substance. Dad then brought a sharp piece of iron, and a pointy rock. He rubbed them together for a while, until a spark came out and caught the grass.

The grass which was covered in that substance quickly caught up into flames. Massive red and purple flames which somehow didn’t turn the grass into ash. It just kept burning and swayed into the sides until it touched the first statue in the row, which also caught up into flames.

Eventually, all of the statues were burning. William and I were speechless at that point.

The flames completely engulfed the bodies, until no part of them was visible whatsoever. After a minute or so, we started hearing strange voices. They sounded like screaming mixed with heavy whispers. William and I start looking around us in fear.

Dad raised his hand to calm us down, but he did not speak. He simply signaled for us to settle back down, which we did. The voices only got more intense, and I had to put both of my hands in my ears to stop them, which only worked so much.

Mr. Albert got up, stood in front of the burning iron bodies, and then said with a rather unusual tone, “Pelytra, Lorymo, Esto, Thematra”, which I had no clue what it meant.

The voices though probably did, because they started to calm down, and so did the raging fire. The flames became more controlled, and started raging upwards instead of in every direction. Something that normal fire does not do…

Strangely enough, while the iron bodies were completely invisible behind the purple fire, their shadows were, and these shadows…They were moving, I think? I’m still unsure of whether this is real or if I was just going insane because of the voices. Regardless, the fire kept calming down over the course of time, until it started slowly dying out.

The flames went out, and behind them, was something that was not there before. The iron bodies now were more humanoid. Large bodies with massive hands and legs, and eyes that were yet closed. They were also covered in green vines and red-ish flowers.

Dad raised his right hand, then said flatly, “Golems, awaken,”.

The bodies suddenly open their eyes, their irises are red, and the backdrop of their eyes is pitch black. William was squeezing my hand so hard it hurt, “What the flip is this?” He whispered, shaking.

“Not like I know any better than you,” I replied, staring at those things.

Mr. Albert, then, quickly tapped each of the golems, and each golem he taps snaps its head towards him and starts following him in a robotic manner. He kept going until all six golems were following him, and he let them out of the shop.

“Dad…What was that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll explain to you when we’re home, it’s lunchtime,” He moved towards the shop door, and we followed him in utter shock.

Luke.

Knock knock..

“Get in,” I waved my hand up from my paper, gesturing to whoever was at the door.

“Sir, the daily report from Outpost 8 is in, Do you~”

“Just put it on my office,” I cut the Vindicator off, “I’ll check it later,”

“But sir, you should really see it” He held the paper tighter, sweating.

I put down my pen and looked at him, “Can’t you see that I’m busy now? I said put it on the damn desk.”

“O-Okay,” He carefully put the file on my desk, then practically bolted out the door.

I finished writing my letter roughly after twelve minutes, then I picked up the report that the Vindicator brought from Outpost 8. “Daily status report.” The white text on the file, and then under it in smaller text, “From Outpost 8, Pillager Military District (PMD) 53 to Commander Luke Blount.”

I quickly skimmed through it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except maybe the rising shortage in food which I’ve been trying to deal with, and failing, for the last six months or so. Outpost 8 are really bad at managing their food supplies.

I put it down, and left my office for lunch break. The mail hall was empty except for me and three other Evolkers, whom I had lunch with. Lieutenants Micah and Colm.

“Hey, Luke,” Micah tapped my back while I was pulling a chair to sit down.

“Greetings, Micah,”

“So, how are things?”

“Good, I suppose, I am breathing for what it’s worth,” I pulled my lunch and set it on the table.

“Aren’t we all?” He set his lunch on the table too, “Still dealing with that food thing with the 8th?”

“Yeah, these suckers can’t keep a single barrel of wheat to save their damn life,” I laughed bitterly.

“Have they done any raid in the last month or so?”

“Bloody hell no. The sergeants there keep telling me that ‘they’re planning’. I have tried everything to get them to move,”

“Well, that’s some crap,” He started eating, and so did I.

All this while, Colm was deep into some papers. His lunch was sitting on the table, getting cold, and he was just nervously staring at files and humming.
“Colm;” I pointed my spoon at him, “What’s the matter with you?”

“Got an outpost that suddenly went up in flames overnight, just checking the report now” He didn’t lift his head from the file.

“Huh, wouldn’t it just be lightning or something? I said in a confused voice.

“No. The night watch guy says there was no storm or anything. He says he just went to the back to grab his crossbow and the entire thing was burning.”

“Damn, need some help with that?” Micah put down his fork.

“Oh, no. We’ve got some supplies left from the Third Sector Raid, I’ll just use them.”

“Alright,” Micah and I said in unison.

I finished up lunch, then climbed up to my office. I picked up the letter I was writing to Outpost 11 about holding up all raids until further notice, and put it in the outgoing mailbox by the office door. It’ll arrive at the outpost in about two weeks, depending on how busy the communication lieutenant is.

I sat down on my chair, and lit a cigarette, then I kept staring at the window of my office, which was peeking at the lush dark oak forest outside. The library by the window side caught my eye; so I got up and got a book from it to pass the time.

“Chalybs calidus” The title was, “A Warrior’s Delight”, it said in smaller text under it.

I haven’t read the Chalybs in a good while, and I probably should, but I got too busy with the whole Outpost 8 thing. I haven’t even been to our Mansion’s church in a week. At this point, I’m too ashamed of myself to meet the priest there.

I open up the book to a random page, and my hand pulls out one the bulkier chapter-start pages. The chapter title read, “Lyriana”, the first verse was:

“A man’s delight shall stem from his way with his blade, for from its pleasure comes his pleasure, and from its disease comes his disease.” Lyriana 1:1.

I read for a somewhat long time, skipping some sections because they felt too boring. Until I reached verse 41 of the sixth chapter, which caught my attention:

“The blood which men must fight by and for, it is the purest thing to ever be. Through nothing but it shall be everything else, and no power can ever defeat it but the Arriver - He Who shall be at the end, and no blade nor arrow shall put Him to a finale. Warriors will bend the knee before His very self, and destruction and creation shall be the swords that His hands will wield.”

That scared the ever living crap out of me, what power can be so strong like that? I don’t think the book is being very literal there. It seems to be really heavily metaphorical. An hour passed by, and the bell which signifies the end of today’s work shift had rang. So, I put the book back on the bookshelf, then locked my office and headed up to my quarters.

I opened the door to my bedroom, and turned the lights on, “I’m here,” I said, out of pure habit.

My two daughters, Alice and Adelaide immediately ran to me and hugged me at the door. I hugged them and kissed each of them before letting them go to greet my wife.

Eleanor greeted me with her tired face, “Greetings, honey, how was your day?”

“Survivable, what about you?”

“Somewhat the same, Adelaide poured flour in the oven again,” She giggled slightly, staring at Adelaide, who was now swinging her on a chair near the table.

“But mom, I wanted to make bread,”

“Not like that, sweetie,” Eleanor turned back to the kitchen, “You’re probably hungry, let me get dinner,”

I sat on the couch while waiting for dinner. I watched Adelaide and Alice play with their little wooden dolls, and I probably slept for a short period of time while watching them. Eleanor shook me awake when she had put dinner on the table.

I picked up a boiled potato from the plate, and ate it, “Mmm, this is tasty.”

“Really?” Eleanor turned to me, curiously, “I had very little time to cook it,”

“Well, from now on, please start rushing all of your cooking,” I joked, picking up another piece of potato.

Eleanor smiled, and the girls laughed audibly at my joke. Midway through the meal, Eleanor asked; “I heard from Ms. Bennet next door about her husband having something to do with a burning outpost?”

“Yeah, one of Colm’s outposts went up in flames overnight, apparently. Not sure how.”

“Not even thunder?” She raised an eyebrow.

“No,”

The rest of dinner was in pure silence, then I washed my hands, and went to sleep because I was extremely tired. I didn’t even remember Eleanor coming to the bedroom to sleep too, I just remember waking up and seeing her on my side.

That night, I did not have a very good sleep. Nightmares hunted me like a hungry lion. There was no apparent meaning to my dreams too, just random horrifying scenes of explosions and wildfires.

The next day, I woke up earlier than usual. I left Eleanor and the kids sleeping, and quietly left my room, going down to the base floor of the Mansion.

“Sir, you are here right on time,” The leading Vindicator said, putting his axe behind his back, “I just got word that our fleets that our raid against the Riverside village has succeeded.”

“Perfect,” I put on my robe, and followed him out into the wild.

Outside the Mansion, there was a massive fleet of around nineteen pillagers, five Vindicators, and two Ravagers saddled up and ready to go. I got on one of them, and the leading Vindicator took the other one, then he led the way outside of the forest.

We rode for miles, until we reached Lake Victoria, which we looped around to get to the plains. After that, we rode for another few miles East, until the signs of a village started to emerge from the fog.

The buildings and houses were still up, as we were early, but the cage wagons were already there carrying villagers and golems.

“Commander Luke, we’ve been waiting for you,” The Evolker there turned to me, smiling, “We’ve completely defeated the Riverside village, finally.”

“Well, it’s about time, Thomas. It’s been five bloody months of constant raids,”

“I know, sir, but now they’re down now and~” He was cut off by a loud screaming sound coming from the hilltop.

“You will never defeat us! The Spirits will curse you for what you have done!” The village clerk was held down by two pillagers, but he was kicking and thrashing in their arms while screaming about some spirits or whatever.

“Silence!” Thomas shouted at him, and gestured to the pillagers to move him.

“Actually, no,” I raised my hands to stop the pillagers, “I want to talk to him,”

They stopped, and I put my hands behind my hands, and walked towards him, “What makes you think we won’t defeat you, Old Mark?”

“Because The Mighty Lords are on our side!” He shouted back.

“Huh, are they, now? I’d think that if they were, they would have helped you, wouldn’t they?”

He didn’t respond, just kept thrashing and kicking. I waved for the pillagers to get him out of my face.

“So, when will you loot this?” I tapped Thomas’ shoulder.

“In a moment, sir”

While waiting, I looked around the area. It was mostly flat plains, except for some mountains in the far North. “What is up with that~” Something pushed me down before I could complete my sentence.

I turn to see, and it’s a villager, holding a wooden sword, with a rather furious expression on his face. He tried to run at me, but luckily I was wearing my protection robe. A Vex came out of the ground and head-butted them straight into the grass.

A pillager quickly grabbed him by his shoulder, and yanked him up towards the cage wagon.

“Ugh,” I got up, and turned back to Thomas, “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by this minion, what is up with that hill?”

The hill I pointed at had a section of it just gone. A square-shaped void that just didn’t have any dirt or rock in it. Nature doesn’t usually do that. “Uh, I’m not sure, probably just some excavation or mining thing by the village miners.”

That did make sense, but miners usually don’t break squared sections of hills. I simply stopped thinking about it because I do not want to get caught up in random stuff.

The pillagers started looting, and they weren’t done until sunrise, which is when we gathered up our stuff and headed back to the Mansion. The loot and cage wagons diverged to Outpost 21, which is where I dispatched them.

Miles of riding later, we were at the Mansion, which is where I was suddenly told that Colm had called an eùergency meeting in two minutes regarding his burning outpost. I sighed of fatigue, and climbed up to the meeting room.

There were about five Evolkers already there including Thomas and Micah, Colm was sitting at the head of the table, clutching his stupid files. When the room finally filled up, he got up and started talking.

“First off, I’m sorry for the bad timing, I know that some of you have been pulled out of your duties for this, but it is of grave importance,”

I adjusted my sitting position to look at him, and he continued, “Some of you have already been informed of this, but I’ll explain for good measure. The night before yesterday, Outpost 5 which is under my command as part of the 51st PMD reportedly went up in flames. The outpost’s storage room, prisoner cells, and bottom floor have been completely erased by the flames.”

He raised his head up from the files, “The person tasked with night watch said that he did not see anything out of the ordinary, and there’s no apparent reason for this burning. Anyone got ideas?”

“Are there any rival villages close to Outpost 5?” Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, all rival villages have been raided and neutralized, and the nearest village is the on the other side of Lake Demaro, which is about two hundred miles away,”

“Would it be possible that a rival villager had sneaked by and thought to maybe take revenge?” I suggested, crossing my hands.

He thought for a bit, “Perhaps, but how would they get past the spotters and the night watch?”

A guy from the far end of the table replied, “Cammoflage, studying soldier schedules, multiple ways.”

We went back and forth like that for about an hour, then Micah suggested that we could send some patrols out into the fields around Outpost 5, which I voted for because it was a good idea.

“Outpost 12 of the 53rd PMD is near the area in question, I can have them send spotters South to check for anything of the ordinary,” I said, shifting in my chair.

“And there’s an outpost of the 54th East of the area, they can help too,” Thomas followed up.

“Well, in that case, anyone here who commands any outposts near the general area of Outpost 5 of the 51st PMD, please be sure to provide help,” Colm concluded, standing up from his chair.

We all stood up after him, and left the meeting room to go to our corresponding offices.