Shades of Grey

Hey guys,

Here’s my latest piece I’ve done, written once again in a friend’s setting, “A Story of Salt”. It’s the story of a zealous commander who does not take kindly to his soliders disobeying orders…no matter how terrible the orders are.

As always, I appreciate any thoughts or feedback on the piece.

Cheers,

Jevan Thompson

 

 

It’s not always black and white you know. Think of the saints, it’s not just one or the other, it’s a mix. Stop thinking about right and wrong, good and bad…

Just focus on staying alive.

– Infantryman’s speech of the Northern Battles.

 

Viktor let the smoke pass over his face, without a care in the world.

He’d been living in it, breathing in it, fighting in it and now, it was as natural as rain falling. As ordinary as the sun shining. It was simply another part of the world, another part of his existence. He felt the presence of Ignis here more strongly than anywhere else and although some called him mad, he knew he was the only one seeing it clearly.

A bird’s sweet song drew him from his thoughts, a beautifully sweet note amidst the choir of the dying village. Viktor managed to catch a glimpse of it, the small delicate thing, perched upon a branch so high.

It must be a sign. He thought to himself with utter conviction.

Lignum approves our conquest as well. I wonder, how many of the others will agree?

The spitting and crackling of burning wood roused him once again from his ponderings. It was becoming more common for his mind to wander and he found himself enjoying it.

Savouring it.

He cast his gaze around the pitiful remnants of the once quiet village. He admired the beauty of the flames, the way they flickered and swayed on the pieces of timber, like dancers at a recital. The thick grey ash that covered the ruins rose like a second skin, rudely lifted up from it’s resting place. It was scattered by the fickle wind, creating yet another cloud of dust that drifted over to Viktor’s encampment.

Beautiful. Simply beautiful. Viktor thought as he admired the site.

He stood up from his kneeling, wincing slightly as his body groaned with the telltale creaks of age. He patted down his tabard robes, removing the worst of the undergrowth. His boots twisted in the mud as he set off towards his men, a smile beginning to form on his lips in anticipation.

Viktor had only made it twenty paces before he was met by another man, who was, in every essence of the word, a brute. Where Viktor was of average height and of an average build, Konrad was the tallest man he’d ever met and certainly the strongest. A long, ugly scar stretched from the top of his head, all the way down to his collar. His shaved head didn’t help to cover it up either, almost as if he wanted people to see and stare. There was a constant frown affixed to his face, with his mouth in an equally constant, silent snarl to match. His leather armour was battered and worn, just like his face.

Konrad did not stop, but swiftly turned around and walked with Viktor.

“They’re formed up, everything’s ready.” Konrad said, his harsh, gravel like voice scraping and scratching on the inside of his throat.

Viktor nodded and continued his stride, his sinister smile now more prominent than ever. It was only a matter of minutes before he came upon the sight of his company of soldiers, stood rigid and tall in three, neat, uniformed ranks.

“Commander present!” Konrad roared, pivoting his head towards the men like a hawk.

In an eyeblink, they snapped their hands on their weapons and braced up, somehow even straighter. Not an inch out of line. Not a thread out of place on their leathers.

Viktor strode purposely to the front of the group and cleared his throat in preparation. Beside him, at the front of the soldiers, were three men, stripped down to loincloths bound to posts.

One was shaking and whimpering, two were silent.

Viktor paused, swirling his tongue around his mouth, searching for the perfect words.

His men continued to stand straight.

“At ease troops.” He said quietly. Even with his hushed tones, the soldiers obeyed the command perfectly and snapped back to their original stance.

“My men, you have performed excellently over this last week, carrying out your tasks with the utmost of precision. This is why we are the best of the kings warriors!” He said, shaking a fist with vigour.

The men all roared in agreement, but the roars were missing something. A lack of heart, a faint flicker of distant fear. The tied up men did not roar.

“So why is it, while I’m surrounded by such fine troops as yourselves, that I unearth mutiny?” He asked, still calm and reserved. The soldiers remained silent. Although he did not speak for a few moments after that sentence, something was being said.

“Betrayal, not just to me, your commander, but to all of you. How can you hope to fight alongside one another, with snakes like this poisoning our ranks?” Viktor asked, not expecting an answer. It was at that point, during another moment of fearful silence, that one of the tied men spoke up, shattering the quiet.

“Fuck you betrayal! You think it’s right what we’re doing? Burning women and younglings?” He shouted, fierce passion thick in every syllable, his hoarse voice breaking and cracking from the strain of it.

“You all know that it’s wrong and that this fucker is evil, kill the bastard-”

The man was cut off sharply as Konrad smashed a stone like fist into his face. He fell to the side limply, blood flowing freely from his broken nose. Konrad turned back to Viktor, violence burning brightly in his eyes.

“As I was saying. Such disobedience and disregard for our orders will not be tolerated-” Viktor started.

“And where…where do you think the fucking orders are coming from? You think the battlelord wants us to kill innocent folk and burn em alive?!” The bleeding man roared, impossibly finding the strength to continue his pursuit, despite his shattered nose.

“Bannerchief Konrad.” Viktor said loudly.

“Sir.” Konrad said, without bracing up to his commander.

“Silence spearman Edgley.” Viktor ordered, not a single flicker of emotion appearing on his face.

Konrad gave a sharp nod and proceeded to stand Edgley back onto his knees. Edgley started to shout, to raise his concern one last time, but he was silenced by Konrad’s fist grabbing his lower jaw.

Edgley started to moan and hiss in pain.

Konrad gritted his teeth and snarled.

Edgley’s cries swiftly rose to new, horrifying heights, turning into desperate shrieks and screams.

Konrad heaved with exertion, once, twice, then tore the man’s lower jaw off.

Blood sprayed onto the mud as Edgley collapsed forwards, choking and shaking, his body unable to process the mortal pain that had been inflicted upon it. The soldiers in their ranks visibly recoiled, some crying out in horror and disgust at the sight. Konrad threw the jawbone to the ground, seemingly unfazed by the puncture marks in his hand.

Viktor gave the men a moment to contemplate what they had seen, he wanted to make sure they understood.

“As I was saying. This will not go unpunished.” He cracked his knuckles and began to roll up his robe sleeves.

“Look at them. Look at them and know this is what happens to traitors. Bannerchief Konrad, please move.” Viktor ordered with a zealous grin.

Konrad moved quickly away, joining the ranks, snapping at the men like an angry dog to get back in formation.

Viktor turned to face the three bound men. One alive and still silent. One trembling and quaking. One choking and dying. The silent man looked up, meeting Viktor’s terrible gaze directly. Even under the relentless onslaught of Viktor’s intimidation, there was steel to be found in that poor man’s eyes.

“My ancestors will smile upon me, knowing I tried to do right.” The bound man said. After a moment or two of holding his stare, he bowed his head in preparation of what was to come.

Viktor laughed a cruel laugh, then raised his voice to a shout. “This is the fate of those who would defy orders, who would betray their fellow man!” His voice quavered slightly, but not from fear or anxiousness.

It was from excitement.

Viktor took in a huge breath and raised his arms. His hands were beginning to smoulder, with smoke gently curling from his fingers. The tabard he wore started to flutter and billow in an unseen, unfelt wind, drawing more gasps from his men.

“IGNIS!” Viktor screamed.

Instantly, his hands exploded in flames, a furious inferno erupting from his palms. He thrust his hands towards the bound captives and they were engulfed in fire. It washed over them, a twin set of constant flames, setting them ablaze in a blink of an eye.

The men drew back in horror from the sight, watching their former friends burnt alive. The smell of burning flesh emanated all around them, a sickly sweet aroma that made a few of them turn away, coughing and spluttering. Konrad was on them in an instant, roughly throwing them back into line, forcing them to watch the horrific sight.

The burning men had formed a symphony of agony, their screams rising to new heights as their flesh bubbled. After a few more moments, Viktor clapped his hands together and stopped the streams of fire, showing all of his teeth in a dark smile, a smile of sheer madness.

With a background of haunting screams behind him, he turned back to his company of terrified men. The fear was written plainly on all of their faces, the aura of panic and terror palpable. Still with all of his teeth displayed, he spoke once again.

“Is everyone clear what happens to mutineers?”