The Last Chosen by Kyle Wariner

Author:Kyle Wariner [Wariner, Kyle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter XV

Reunion

Upon arrival, the group stayed at the enormous fortress city of Aura for a few hours where they ate surprisingly tasteful military rations before a man in his mid-forties gave a brief warning about traveling between outposts in the Dark Zone. After they had been thoroughly horrified by stories of dismembered men, the officers threw them in with the other two squads, and they departed for the outpost not long after.

It was standard for three squads to travel through the wasteland together despite the fact that the outpost, their destination, was only two miles away. Apparently, Blight armies would attack smaller groups traveling through the Dark Zone, so their elite squadron of younger men mixed with the thirty-year-old veterans to create a significant force. Everyone walked with their hands on swords, ready for an impending attack.

Only Slick wasn’t nervous.

He joked in his jovial manner, teasing various, random soldiers until they swore at him. “The truth hurts, my lad, but it must hurt much more to live with a face like that.” Slick said to end a particularly insulting fight. This would’ve earned him a brawl right then and there, but that soldier’s friends held him back.

Alison finally reigned him in, and everyone on Accor’s squad heaved a sigh of relief. For some reason, Slick listened to Alison, and he never poked fun at her. If Accor didn’t know any better, he would say they were siblings. Well, that wasn’t exactly right, but the two certainly were a good pair. They were quite opposite, but good friends.

Dusk began to cascade its rose light across the sky, weaving tapestries as the soldiers arrived at the outpost’s stone walls. Expanding upward ten feet in the air—buttresses running along the ramparts—the wall provided a defense for the military operation. A small portcullis, about eight feet high, barred the only entrance. Armored men paced along these battlements, some looking out over a dark expanse while others played cards and gave the edge of the wall cautious looks.

After a member of another squad shouted back and forth with the wall guard for about a minute, the metal gate creaked upward with a grinding sound, and the thirty-five of them marched inward, happy to escape the ashy Dark Zone. Unfortunately, inside the outpost was as gloomy as outside.

Few permanent structures resided, and instead, rows of cloth tents packed neatly into organized sections, filling the main courtyard. Accor noticed two campfires in the site, but only the cooks stirred pots of food by them. All others stayed inside. The outskirts of the small area held most of the troops while the center of the outpost held the commander’s quarters. That was the standard outpost layout. If the king was anywhere, he was probably near the middle tents.

Fear—an omnipresent shroud—hung in the air while soldiers passed from tent to tent quickly, as if merely standing outside was a death sentence. Unlike in the training facilities, almost nobody spoke to one another in friendly conversation, instead rushing about, taking care of business as fast as possible.

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