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 it to carry the war cries of the northern barbarians.

Around him, the guards were a mix of relaxed and tense, some were eating their hot potato and corn soup. Some were just dozing off with their weapons, spear and sword, to the side. Some were sharing their stories with each other.

"Do you know the origin of the Church of Visions?" Said one brawny guard to all the others. His voice was low and conspiratorial, drawing the others' attention.

The rest had their ears fixed to him, like being told a story from a story book.

"It all began when this world was created, all of our ancestors believed that there was one goddess, called Goddess Astia, the all mighty and full of kindness Goddess. She is the protector of this land and our kingdom, Creopia!" he said, full of excitement like a preacher.

"That's nonsense, though, something that we told to our children when they were young." another guard with squinty eyes responded to the story.

Most of the guards nodded in approval. Though the brawny guard laughed it off, his face gave off a slight blush, embarrassed that he was corrected over.

"Whatever the origin or story, it all doesn't matter, we all just need to do our 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.

"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.

They all mumbled goodnight, some were already tired with sleepy and baggy eyes.

Though, some excitedly went back to their cabins and quarters, maybe for an extra round of fun with their fellows. The squinty guard stayed back at the campfire as all the others left, though he was not alone.

Then the squinty guard broke the silence between them by conversing.

"Are you not going to get some sleep?" he said to Hubert.

"N-no si-sir Greyson, I'm ju-just nervous." Hubert responded.

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

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

"Why are you stuttering so hard? Just relax around me, it's not as if I'm going to eat you! Hahahaha" Greyson patted Hubert on the back.

"So-sorry sir!" Hubert responded, even more nervous than he was before.

A bit of silence between them, with only the sound of fire burning and soft footsteps around them. The camp was silent, it was midnight after all, were it not for the fire, only the moon would light up the surroundings for people to see.

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

"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, they won't get their goodnight sleep, and the people would suffer." Greyson tells. Hubert could only blankly stare at the fire as wood burned under it.

They are the watchmen, after all. A militia group formed by the Kingdom of Creopia, as a first line of defense against the dangers that walk outside its borders. With a low age expectancy, while having some of the most interesting stories to give out to their children.

"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.

A little silence before Greyson sighed, and then he stood up to leave the fire and started making his way to his cabin, while responding to Hubert.

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

Hubert still looked at the fire and was confused when Greyson stopped his sentence.

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

There, a sight of horror, accompanied by blood.

"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, 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 puddle leaked out of his lifeless body and covered 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. Though the sight of their captain's death surprised them, some quickly regained their focus, clenching their weapons as they dispersed into their posts.

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

"Watchmen!!! Take your posts!" the brawny guard shouted. The watchmen obeyed his orders and went to their own posts.

That's when the brawny guard saw Hubert, still sitting on the floor, scared and panicking from all this situation.

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

"Hubert! Get up and pick up your spear! We are all going to die if you keep being a coward!" The brawny guard shouted while picking up Hubert by his collar.

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

The brawny guard watched in disgust, then he picked up his left hand 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 spear and point it toward the enemies! Don't forever be a coward!" the brawny guard shouted again, this time in front of Hubert's face, some of his saliva went flying everywhere.

"…" 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…" 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. Until he realized his order.

The brawny guard only smiled at Hubert.

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.

With a muscular body covered in blue tattoos of unknown language, a head covered by a metal helmet only guarding the skull, eyes and nose. And wielding a large axe, with a wide double axe head facing two different directions.

The single barbarian, like a lone wolf, killed all the horses that managed to escape the wrath of fire in the stable. With a single downward strike from the double axe, a horse was cut in half.

Then he saw something more interesting, something that made him grin like a demon, something that made his eyes glew red in bloodlust, something, or perhaps someone.

Hubert.