The Watchman

Disclaimer: Relax as you read, as this tale will bring you to the story of another world. Please read the author's note in the auxiliary part before quitting the novel.

The campfire flickered uneasily in the night, casting long shadows that danced like specters. Hubert's heart pounded as he listened to the distant howling of the wind, half expecting the war cries of the northern barbarians being carried by the wind.

Guards gathered around the campfire, some were eating the hot potato and corn soup, their dinner. Some were just dozing off with their weapons of spears, swords, and bows to the side. Others were sharing their stories with each other.

"Do you know of the origin of the Church of Visions?" one brawny guard said to the others. His stature was big, though hidden by the standard leather armor that he and the others wore.

The rest of the guard listened to him, like children being told a story from a book. Their eyes were reflective of the campfire in front of them.

"It all began when this world was created, our ancestors believed in one Goddess, called the venerable Astia! The all mighty and kindful Goddess, protector of this land and patron of our kingdom, Creopia!" he said, excitement in his tone while his way was like a preacher.

The guards chattered with one another. Obviously, it wasn't the first time such a story was told. But it always brought debate wherever it went.

"That's nonsense, though. Something that we told to the children when they were young," a guard, squint eyed, refuted the brawny's guard claim.

Most of the guards around the campfire nodded in approval. It was a well known fact after all.

The brawny guard laughed it off, though it was visible that he was embarrassed over the correction. Slightly agitated, even, but what could he do in the face of the captain.

"Whatever the origin or story was, it all doesn't matter. We all just need to do our this damned job, guarding this goddess-damned outpost from the barbarians of the north. Right, Hubert?" the squinty guard said while glancing at the young and newly joined Hubert.

"Y-yes, si-sir!" Hubert responded nervously. After all, it was his first day.

"Well, shouldn't we get some sleep? After all, we need to patrol the forest tomorrow. Let's leave the rest to the night watch," the brawny guard said to the others, diverting other's attentions.

Soon, they all mumbled goodnight to each other and left the campfire. Some were already tired with sleepy and baggy eyes.

While some excitedly went back to their cabins and quarters in groups, seemingly too excited for a group that was going to bed.

The fire flickered, the wood burning, while the moonlight shone upon the outpost at night. Now, the squinty guard sat on the wooden log of a chair, accompanied by Hubert.

The silence was uncomfortable, but it was soon broken.

"Are you not going to get some sleep, Hubert?" he asked, his tone worried.

"N-no cap-captain Greyson, I-I'm too nervous," Hubert responded.

"Well, of course you are. This is no easy place after all, why did you even come here in the first place?" Greyson asked.

"M-my moth-mother, sir! Sh-she's sick," with a stutter, Hubert responded, revealing his reason.

Greyson glanced at him.

"Just relax around me, it's not as if I'm going to eat you! Hahahaha," the captain said while patting Hubert on the back.

"So-sorry sir!" Hubert responded, even more nervous than he was before, staying alone with the captain, unsurprisingly, wasn't that good of an idea.

The conversation died down, the two enjoyed the burning fire, the soft footsteps around them accompanying. The camp was silent.

"You know, this place is dangerous. Every day, we are threatened with an attack from the barbarians. Ever since I became captain of the watchmen in this place, it has been getting steadily dangerous." Greyson said to Hubert, venting all his thoughts.

"We are the watchmen, just some ragtag group formed by getting people from the local populace. Given merely rusty weapons and half broken leather armour from the local nobles, in hope of protecting the noble. Such a noble job we took, huh? Then again, without us, the nobles and populace wont have their goodnight sleep, and they would suffer." Greyson tells. Hubert could only blankly stare at the fire as wood burned under it.

They were the watchmen. A militia group formed by the Kingdom of Creopia, as a first line of defense against the dangers that walk outside its borders. Resulting in its unpopularity among the potential recruits. At the same time, being an occupation that was so important that it couldn't be neglected.

"Today, we found a rabbit head, beheaded from its body, by a northern axe, it seems... the barbarians are closing in on us." Greyson said.

"Wi-will we b-be oka-okay sir?" Hubert asked nervously, praying that the worse wouldn't come.

"Ha..." Greyson sighed. Then he supported himself up and turned around, heading for the cabin.

"Of course! Now get some sleep so you won't be useless when they co..." He stopped in the middle of his sentence.

Hubert was focused at the sight of the flickering fire. He was then confused when Greyson's voice was nowhere to be heard.

"Si-sir?" Hubert asked as he turned his head toward Greyson, already behind him halfway to the cabin door.

There, a sight of horror, accompanied by blood, greeted him.

"A-a-agh, He-hel…" Greyson had his hands on his neck.

An arrow pierced his neck from the side, coming out of the other side, surely hitting the carotid artery. He tried to pull out the arrow, and then tried closing both side of the hole with his hands.

But it was all too late for Greyson.

Hubert could only watch silently, his face began to sweat profusely, and his eyes couldn't believe what he saw. He stumbled back, his back nearly got touched by the fire behind him. He watched as Greyson, the captain of the watchmen, slowly fell to the ground.

Greyson's soul slowly flew away and the body gradually became motionless. Blood leaked out of his wound and puddled the ground with it. His red eyes showed his restlessness even in his death.

"Attack! Attack! From the north!" a guard shouted from a watchtower north of Hubert's direction.

In a matter of seconds, watchmen from the cabins around the campfire came out of the cabins. The sight of their captain, Greyson, lifeless on the ground surprised them.

But countless days of training and a disciplined routine proved to be potent. Most regained their focus and clenched their weapons, then dispersed into their posts.

The brawny guard, one who had told stories in the campfire before, yelled orders.

"Watchmen!!! Take your posts, defend this place with your life!" the brawny guard shouted.

That's when the brawny guard saw Hubert, still sitting on the ground. Scared and panicking, his eyes darted around and sweat formed on his forehead.

"No, no, no, no, my life can't just end here, this can't happen!" Hubert muttered, repeatedly, he was afraid.

"Hubert! Get up!" The brawny guard shouted as he approached Hubert.

Then he grabbed the spear that was on the ground and clenched Hubert by his collar with his other hand.

"Pick your spear! Don't be a coward, or else we'll die here!" the brawny guard shouted, his saliva spurting everywhere, his hand offering the spear to Hubert, which Hubert didn't take.

"Coward? Y-yes, yes… yes! I'm a coward, always been a coward since I was small!" Hubert kept muttering stuff, his eyes slowly producing tears, and his pants became gradually wet.

The brawny guard watched, iritated, threw the spear on the ground, and formed an open palm, and threw it across Hubert's face. Resulting in a big red wound on Hubert's cheek.

"You still won't fight?! This place is going to burn soon! Pick up your damn spear and point it toward the enemies!" the brawny guard shouted again.

"…" Hubert watched in silence.

Boom!

The cabin behind the brawny guard's back, the same cabin Greyson died trying to reach, was hit by a massive fireball flying from the north.

Just in a matter of seconds, the cabin was in fire, the screams of people inside were blood curling, and some rushed outside, only to end up dead seconds later, letting out their last cry as the fire consumed them.

All the wood splintered and became shrapnel, flying at every single direction it saw fit.

Hubert and the brawny guard were thrown to the ground.

In Hubert's black coloured eyes, everything around him was over. The walled encampment, the cabins, and the sight of his fellow watchmen dead, from arrows or shrapnel or fireballs, caused his entire muscle to freeze.

His eyes saw, but his body was frozen.

All was slow motion in his eyes, and only buzzing sound could be heard by his ear, until the brawny guard shouted.

"Hubert… Take… The horse… No-notify..." The brawny guard said, his once strong and loud voice had become as soft and weak as that of a toddler. He was thrown off into a prone position, his back was covered by wood splinters and bruises formed from the impact, blood seemed to be leaking off of his head.

"Wh-what?" Hubert didn't understand the brawny guard's message.

The brawny guard only smiled at Hubert.

Only then, he realized what the order meant.

His body never moved again.

With visible flow of tears coming from his eyes, Hubert quickly stood up and picked up his spear from the ground beside him. He began rushing the stable behind one of the cabin.

Just as he went around a corner, a sight surprised him. The stable was burning, some of the horses escaped from the fire and was dead before they could take three steps forward. The cause of their death,

A barbarian.

Blue tattoos of unknwon language painted on his pumped and rounded muscles. His head covered by that of a metal helm with a round part that protected his skull and a noseguard that protected his nose. Horns was attached to the helm.

In his hands was an axe, a double headed axe. Its edge sharpened, one head gleamed of the peaceful moonlight, the other of the wrathful blaze that consumed the stable.

Like a lone wolf, he stood in front of the stable, waiting. Then the target of his lust came, escaping the fiery fire of the stable. With a single downward swung, the target, a strong and powerful stud, was cut in half.

Soon, he noticed something far more interesting than that of horses. Something that made him grin like a demon, something that made his eyes glew red in bloodlust, something. That something was a man, a newly fledged watchman.

Hubert.