From the Hellfront - Cyrus
"I prepared myself for the worst..."

The everlasting winters of Rivengarde put the innate fear of isolation into me. The sheer thought of being out here alone—the thought of being abandoned was enough to send shivers down my spine. Fortunately, I wasn’t alone—I was part of a reconnaissance unit. I wasn’t sure what the name implied—but I was assured I’d be getting paid by the end of my term. If only I’d known what kind of a fresh hell this place would devolve to—I wouldn’t have jumped the gun.

My job was simple—stay alive and check back with any sort of oddities or peculiarities that may stalk the battlefield. There wasn’t much gunfire nor any explosions on this kind of land. For people like me, this was the perfect kind of job, no risk and big pay. For those around me, they hated it. I could see it in their eyes—they longed for something they weren’t ready for. I, myself, only heard of the horrors that shadowed these lands.

I took out my focus lens and placed it above my eye. The heavy snowfall only made more work for the new blood—endlessly digging out the snow that covered the long trench. With small adjustments and small turns of the dials—I got my lens to focus on something that was catching my eye. Amongst the barren snowy landscape, through the hellish blizzard I saw a single ghostly discolouration setting on the horizon. I put the lens down and squinted with my naked eyes—It looked like some sort of light being distorted—I just wasn’t sure what it was.

I stepped off the little alcove I dug out with my shovel and hung my body low. I crept along the sides of the trench, past some newbies smoking and past those shoveling the tide of snow. Near the end of this snaking trench I could see Sergeant Jyalir fiddling around with radio equipment. These devices were new and I sure as hell had no idea how he could operate it—but the uses it provided were leaps and bounds above anything else.

“Sergeant, I have a pressing matter—figure spotted. Please advise.” I asked him quickly and efficiently. A very unsettling buzzing sound emanated from the radio—it was erratic and grating on the ears.

“Goddamn ray-tech. Fucking never wor—figure spotted? Give me that fucking lens.” Jyalir was turning some sort of knob but he snatched the lens out of my hands and took a quick peek over the trench. He knelt back down and fidgeted with the dials on the lens—with another peek through the damning sleet he turned back to the radio equipment with a panicking frenzy. He picked up a small device attached to the radio and started to yell sequences of numbers.

“THREE, THIRTY-FIVE, FORTY. REQUESTING ASSISTANCE—OVER.” The static that irritated me was starting to get more and more shrill—I could almost hear someone trying to talk through it, but the sound was getting lost amongst the pelting precipitation. 

“PLEASE ADVISE—OVER.” Jyalir’s voice seemed to be getting more and more desperate. I shook my head and took an extra lens from my pocket to peek over the top. I already dialed in the settings but was surprised when the figure looked different. I kept twisting and turning it until I realized something odd—it was closer. Much, closer.

“Sarge, that thing is moving at an alarming pace. Orders?” I asked—my voice still monotonous. Jyalir yelled a couple of slurs and slashed his sword through the wall behind the radio. He was breathing heavily and looking around in panic. The couple of newbies near us were starting to get panicked too. I was about to tell the Sergeant to get his shit together when the radio started to crackle to life again.

“CHHHZ....Hearing code...BZZZZZT...ASTRAL. HOLD POSITI...CHHHHHHZ.” It barely managed to signal anything but the order was clear. I wasn’t sure what code Astral meant—but it clearly wasn’t anything to retreat about. I let loose a silent laugh but froze as the Sergeant took his sword and cut the radio into a million pieces in a flash of a second.

“FUCKING PIECES OF SHIT,” The Sergeant turned to the rest of the squad. “EVERYONE, START MOVING—WE’RE MOVING BACK!” He tossed a couple hand signals and everyone openly complained back with slurs and moaning. Everyone was tired from the arduous journey it took to set up this trench and they were just told to abandon it—anyone would get pissed.

“Farrier, how far’s the Astral?” Jyalir asked me.

“I’d guess five minutes out based on consistent pace. I don’t see why we’re shif—”

“You’ve never seen em, have you?”

“No sir.”

“I’ve seen entire platoons die to those fucking things.”

“Sir, I kindly suggest you refrain from drinking on the job.” Sergeant Jyalir gave me a dirty look.

“I don’t understand why an Astral is in here of all places. This should have been the deadlands.  Who the fuck sends people out in such horrible weather?” Jyalir continued. I chuckled under my breath—seems like Rivengarde does.

“Headquarters told us to hold position, why are we absolving those orders sir?” I asked. All five of us were now fully packed and ready to move at a moment’s notice.

“Fuck HQ! If y’all don’t want to die. We’re moving—NOW! Guns out, get ready to delay fire.”

“YESSIR!” The rest of the crew shouted.

With minimal signalling, everyone was out of the trench and into the unrelenting storm of a blizzard. I’m sure whatever was getting closer had a clear view of us now. Out in the vast open snow plains we were just sitting ducks for whatever it was. I was near the front of the line, just behind the Sergeant. He was fighting the hurricane and marching through the deep snow at an almost unbelievable pace. He looked quite old—but you’d never guess it now. The sword on his waist was flapping in the wind and his overcoat barely hung on.

I took a quick look behind me. The three other privates that made up this squad were struggling but still making the pace. Further, beyond the trench we climbed out of I could see it with my naked eye. Headquarters and Sergeant Jyalir both called it an Astral but to me, it seemed like an ordinary person—granted an insane person. What kind of soldier treks this far out—in the middle of nowhere—with no one but himself?”

“SERGEANT, WE’RE NOT GOING TO MAKE IT! DO WE START DELAY FIRING NOW?” I screamed it at the top of my lungs—nothing else could make it through the whistling wind.

“OFFICER BRADLEY, START FIRING!” Sergeant screamed back at us.

“YESSIR!” Bradley responded. He was different from the other two. There was a new training project back at Rivengarde that produced people like him—codename vultures. Supposedly there was a new weapon frame being offered and trained. Something well beyond the range of our flintlocks. I didn’t believe it at first but when Bradley took the leather case off his back—which I thought was a sword sheath at first—and procured an unmistakably long gun from it, I believed the stories.

He knelt down and pulled an oddly shaped hammer from near the trigger of the rifle and with a sound I’d liken to cannons more so than guns, he fired a shot at our pursuer. Everyone was stunned still—except the Sergeant. Sure, the sound of the gun was enough to stop us, but when the bullet reached its target—it disintegrated. It didn’t ricochet. It didn’t pierce the flesh. It didn’t miss. It disintegrated. That stopped everyone in their tracks. The stalker I thought was a decent distance from us was now only metres away. I could see it in plain view now—a white cloak with gold accents. A bluish—silver ring of metal that hovered over the head of the individual—this was an Astral.

Time seemed to stop the more I looked at him. He had long blonde hair that reached long down his back and his golden irides didn’t have whites—just an eerily blue texture filled the leftover space. The metal ring hovered above his head at an odd angle—blue sparks constantly buzzing off of it. His hands were glued onto a sheath underneath his cloak. He was eyeing us up—scanning each and every one of our faces. Almost the instant afterwards—everyone pulled out their flintlocks and shot him to no avail. Each and every bullet hit their target—but as soon as they got close to hitting him, they burned up and disappeared. With another shot from Bradley, Sergeant Jyalir finally turned around and I could see his wide eyes—he was looking death in the eyes.

I slowly pulled out my service sword from its holster and the rest of the squad followed suit. If flints didn’t work—we had to problem solve.

“EVERYONE, GET BACK!” Jyalir shouted, he was running back to us with his sword in hand. No one listened, we all simply charged as we were trained. Bradley was trying to load another shot into his lensgun as he called it.

The four of us rushed into slashing range—the deep snow preventing us from moving with any decent speed. We needed absolute power in every strike—we couldn’t rely on any parries or thrusts. Private Ren brought his service sword above his head and jumped at the Astral to try and catch his shoulder, Private Feyrin ran into a tackle to try and catch him dodging. I slowly walked my way over and prepped some sort of thrust attack—I wanted to see how these fabled Astrals moved—he looked like a lost dog.

Private Ren was the first one to die. The blood poured from the wound where his heart once lived. The snow around his body slowly turned into a disgusting red. In almost what seemed like an impossibly short amount of time the Astral had his ornately decorated sword in his hand—completely covered in Rivengarde blood. I didn’t even see him move. Private Ren was just in the air a second ago—but now his body laid in the snow, sword at his side.

This didn’t stop Private Feyrin, he continued his movement and tackled the Astral with enough force to knock them both into the snow. The deep snow sprayed everywhere as they both struggled to get up. Private Feyrin got to his knees and brought his sword in a full one-eighty degree spin to try and slash the Astral with any force.

The Astral, with wide eyes and gritted teeth, brought his sword up—barely in time—to block the slash. Just as the swords made contact, a distinct TWING spread across the battlefield. Private Feyrin’s sword did make contact, but it broke. The Astral used the force to roll backwards and get himself back on his feet. I rushed over—as fast as the snow allowed me—and grabbed Private Feyrin off the ground.

“STAND DOWN, CHECK REN!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, exercising good air transfer. That’s what these fights amounted down to. Especially with the insanely heavy snowfall that seemed to get heavier the more we trudged through it.

“YESSIR!” Private Feyrin scrambled back to Ren. Sergeant was trying to talk to Private Bradley—it seemed heated but Bradley was still aiming his rifle with the Astral and I downsights. I casually walked a bit to the side so Bradley could have an open shot whenever he wanted. The Astral conveniently mirrored me. It seems he was accustomed to duels.

I rolled the blade in my hands and tasted blood in my mouth. From a bystander’s viewpoint—I was outclassed. That didn’t bother me, I was raring to go. The blood from Ren’s body dripped from the Astral’s sword and clothes. I wasn’t sure any human could counter what he did to Ren—but I was ready for anything. The downfall of good swordplay was feints—and I planned to sell them well.

My first move was a forehand slash. I aimed for his sword to lock it in a block. The Astral brought his sword up and blocked—perfectly. I then used the weight of my attack to push him back and spun my sword around. This was the perfect slash for people like this. If he didn’t block this—he would die. If he dodged this—Bradley would open fire. This Astral had no idea that he just waltzed right into my plan.

The Astral didn’t block—he dodged backwards and almost fell back into the snow. It seemed he wasn’t comfortable fighting in the snow. This was exactly what I wanted. As the Astral struggled for his balance—I heard the loud scream of the rifle from Bradley. I could see the bullet moving in slow motion. It was the absolute perfect shot—straight for those creepy eyes. I could see the Astral move his head just in time to see the bullet approach him. With another few long milliseconds I saw the bullet move further than before—it wasn’t disintegrating. A shit eating grin filled my face as I knew it was over. The bullet approached his eye but before it made contact—TWANG.

My chest filled with a burning sensation and a warm liquid oozed from the newfound hole that was ingrained into my stomach. My grin was gone and my eyes were wide. I could feel my heart working overtime as Bradley started to shout indiscriminately. I only saw the blur of movement—the Astral brought his sword up and baseball batted the bullet straight into my stomach. The sheer amount of timing, the sheer amount of coordination, the sheer amount of force he could squeeze out in an insignificantly small amount of time. How?

I pulled a couple steps back as the Astral got his balance back. I bent my body over and let some blood pour onto the snow. They say once you shed blood on this desolate land—you’re forever part of Rivengarde’s legacy. They say once you die, your body fosters growth for nature’s bounty. Yeah, as if anything is going to grow in this hellfront. I scoffed and looked back up to see a sword slash going straight for my neck. The smile that faded came back in full force as I easily ducked underneath it. The Astral was getting overconfident, I could see. His entire body was now open for a thrust—I had a choice, but there was only truly one. I aimed exactly at the same spot he executed Ren with.

Like my previous incursions—this was to no avail either. The Astral brought his boot up and stepped onto my blade—stopping it dead in its tracks. With insurmountable force, he whipped the butt of his sword onto my head, slamming me into the ground. The Astral didn’t follow up—he simply started to run. I gathered myself and pushed off the ground.

“BRADLEY!” I screamed through the blood. I knew exactly where he was going. Hopefully Bradley could connect the dots. As I turned my body, I could hear Bradley scream in panic—he was still alive. The Astral reached Bradley in record time and brought his sword into a thrust—right for the head.

Bradley fell onto his back as Sergeant Jyalir quickly parried the blow. It seemed he was done doing whatever he was doing. The Astral took a couple steps back—I guess no one has parried a blow yet. Sergeant Jyalir took his few steps in front of Bradley with the confidence of a ship captain.

“BRADLEY, GATHER FARRIER, REN AND FEYRIN!” Jyalir shouted at the top of his lungs. This was the first time I’ve seen Jyalir act like something to be reckoned with. Even with the punishing snowfall—the air somehow got heavier when the Astral and the Sergeant faced off. I got off lucky—whatever the Astral decided to do was something so out of my league that it didn’t need to be wasted on people like me. My lungs struggled against my wound and the insanely heavy atmosphere. I could see Bradley running to me with his dagger in hand. He stole a couple of glances at the Astral and managed to shoulder me.

“How bad’s the wound?” He asked into my ear.

“I can still fight.” I replied.

“HAH—you’re not moving anymore.” He laughed, which caused me to chuckle a bit. Bradley started to take a couple of bandages and anti-wound serums out of his ammo bag.

“No idea how you fought that...thing. It moved faster than my bullets.” He managed through the snow.

“It was going easy on me—look at him now.” I pointed over to the Sergeant.

“I saw sarge down those pills. You know—the ones he told us never to eat?” Bradley explained.

“That’s why he looks worth his weight now. Those things are a fucking death sentence.” I said with a chuckle.

Sergeant Jyalir took a step closer to the Astral. The Astral took a step back. The pressure that they both exuded was something truly befitting of Astral. With a quick flick—Jyalir whipped his blade to try and land a hit on the Astral. With a fluid motion, the Astral parried with his own quick slash. The both of them once again at a standoff.

Suddenly a voice started to come from Bradley’s side pocket—the small radio that the Sergeant Jyalir gave to us was emitting static—amongst it was a voice piercing its way into our ears.

“BZZZT...Confirmed Astral, standby for—CHHHZZZZZT...” That was all the radio had to say.

“Goddamn radio, always cuts out the important info. Stay here—I’ll bring Feyrin...and what’s left of Ren.” Bradley scrapped himself to his feet and marched over to Feyrin—screaming at him. 

Jyalir was locked in combat of speed with the Astral. I couldn’t even see the attacks that were happening—It looked like Jyalir was on the offensive but he couldn’t land a single hit on the Astral. Meanwhile he was taking cuts and scrapes all over. The speed at which their swords flew was greater than the bullets released by flintlocks. All I could hear was the horrible sound of grinding metal as the swords impacted and scraped. For a second, I almost thought we could win. Come on Cyrus, you have to get up—
BOOOOOOOOM

My thoughts were halted as my entire body flew several metres. I gasped for air and writhed in my pain. The intensity of it was nothing like anything I’ve ever felt before. Snow, dust and dirt was all riled up into a sudden squall that slowly got out of control. My whole body was already numb to the disheartening snow—but I could feel my body getting colder than ever before. I tumbled back and forth as I tried to right myself. Through my flutter of meaningless movements, I could see Bradley running back towards me.

“CYRUS! CYRUS! RESPOND!” The private ordered.

“UGH—ARRRRGCK!” I screamed back—I was still alive.

I could feel my body slipping away. Every ounce of my strength was oozing out of my wounds. I know I have to get up. I know how important it is for me to get on my feet again—but I can’t do it. At this moment, I can’t do it. I screamed as so did my body, the more I tried to move it—the more we dealt with the pain. A pair of hands grabbed my shoulders and started to drag me away from the rising storm. Through my lapses of vision I could see Bradley cursing while struggling to move my deadweight body.

“B—Bradley...” I managed.

“We’ll be outta here in no time, don’t worry.” Bradley smiled back. That made me scoff and cough up some blood. Seeing Bradley smile like that really put it into perspective how much of a shit show everything is. 

What the fuck am I doing? Why is Bradley taking me away from the fight? Why can’t I move this forsaken body of mine? Everything around me started to paint itself into a blur—I could see my past among the shadows. My dead family, the friends that inhabit my memories, those whom I’ve come to respect—everyone and everything I’ve known started to fill my brain. It was blissful. That moment, in that moment—everything was alright.

The squall spawned by the explosion now settled. I could see only one figure in it. It wasn’t the silhouette of a tall man who lacked any elegance. It wasn’t the figure of a man who tried to save his squad. It wasn’t the remains of someone whom I seemed to respect in their last moments. It was the Astral. The Astral was taking his time walking over to us. Bradley was suddenly invigorated—maybe for the last time—as he dragged me like his life depended on it. No matter how far Bradley moved me, no matter how fast, it was all for naught. 

“...cking leave me...” I breathed out. I expected Bradley to protest, but he dropped me instantly. A smile formed along my face—maybe now he can make it out. That thought didn’t take long to deteriorate as Bradley took a step over me. In his hand was those small arming daggers we got back at camp. I had my service sword scabbard still on my belt. No sword was anywhere to be seen. Even people like Bradley were trained with swords—but why the dagger? It took me a full second to realize that he in fact was carrying a sword—a sword scabbard. His lensgun took up so much weight and space that a sword was impractical. I truly realized just how fucked we were.

I grabbed Bradley by the ankle as he tried to take another step past me. I pulled as hard as I could, causing him to fall flat on his face. He struggled trying to get himself back up as the Astral just gazed. I could hear him yelling swears and curses as I brought my dead body back to life.

“...Can’t let recon die before me...” I spoke. My voice broke at every vowel and it trailed on and on.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Bradley screamed back. His voice was filled with fear and exasperation, whereas mine was filled with vindictiveness and conviction. I summoned all my strength and pulled him back to his feet.     I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. “Bradley—you are GOING to make it back. Rivengarde isn’t far from here.” I pushed him away from me. “I’ll follow you once I’m done here. Head towards those storm clouds, I think that's where HQ is. ” I turned my back to Bradley. “I’ll bring Ren, Jyalir and Feyrin back home—don’t worry.” With that final sentiment, I took a step forward to hell.