Rights of Man: Part 2 (WIP)

**The Sothelian army was to be divided into three groups during the assault of the city. Group one, which included Colonel Alhans men was to slowly advance towards the walls, and stop before they were a third of the way there. Group two would then launch whatever artillery they had at the walls, concentrating on the gates and certain portions of the walls. As soon as the wall was breached group one would rush into battle and secure the newly created entrances. Group three would stay in reserve until the first wall was either destroyed or captured by the first two groups, and then would rapidly advance to the wall so that the other groups could repeat the process three more times.

Not all Northelian soldiers were as adamant for a last stand as their General, and many surrendered without a fight, those who were caught submitting were in the tightest of spots, as Faleun’s elite forces were entrusted to keep the men fighting, and any transgressors were to be shot on sight. This next excerpt comes from a low ranking officer in the Northelian garrison, his name was Markos Tien and he was one the many that took their fate into their own hands during the Liberation of Gardsel.**

The Sothelians were advancing, slowly but no matter what we threw at them had no effect, like a god damn sea they were. I had heard they outnumbered us, but not by this scale, and they reassured the walls coupled with our artillery would beat them back. Now it was fully evident that they had lied, and our general intended to die a martyr. I have had my doubts in the past, but now it was stupidly obvious, someone needed to raise the white flag, as I could feel most of us wanted to do so. We were beaten, bitter, and unashamedly defeated, and it needed to end.

A week after our fleets retreated and our supplies were beginning to dwindle, the general issued us an ‘official’ edict from the Dominus himself. Simply put, it stated that no one was to leave the city, no matter what happened. We were to stay here until Dubries returned with auxiliary forces from the northern protectorates. But the more I thought about it the more I worried, the north had just gone through the unification war and it is a well known fact after Anatreus defeated them he had his armies scorch the lands as they made their way back south victorious. I realized there would be no reinforcements.

I never liked Faleun but always feared him, and fear was how he kept most of us in line. His elite soldiers, known as the Wolf Coats were always watching the lower officers like myself very closely, just waiting for an excuse to shoot us. After the edict the schism in the garrison became even more evident and worse. It was those who were with Faleun and the Wolf Coats and those who wanted peace. But nobody showed their cards, as it would mean certain death.

The crack of the cannons in the morning signaled the major assault, it seemed they wanted to capture the city by the end of the day at the speed they were racing towards the breached walls. I grabbed a rifle from a dead soldier propped against the wall and fixed a bayonet to the end. The enemy had not reached the walls yet and the men on the walls began shooting, a mortar round struck through the roof of the gatehouse. The windows burst apart with a flash and a dismembered arm flew out of one and landed near me.

I tried to ignore the wailing and screams of the wounded as I gathered my men and headed towards one of the breaches. Soldiers above up were punched back and off the walls as the Sothelians returned fire. The space between the first and second wall was choked with bodies, those of the dead and others struggling to get into defensive positions. I pressed myself against the nearest wall-fragment and kept my head down, behind us at foot of the second set of gates stood a squad of the Wolf Coats. They barked at the common soldiers and shoved those away who came too close.

I sat there clutching my rifle like a babe holding a tree-branch in a flood, explosions and screams came from all around me, but I closed my eyes, in the blackness it seemed like time slowed down and the cacophony of battle faded away. My body was numb but I could feel the pounding of the artillery and could smell the death and fear. Urine, shit, blood, and spent casings all melded together into an horrendous amalgamation. My stomach lurched and every whiff weakened my ability to stifle the vomit.

I was on the brink of puking when I opened my eyes, and what lay before me then I still cannot explain. I stood in what seemed like an endless field of long golden grass, and many paces ahead of me I could see her. Her hair swayed gently in the breeze, it brushed across her smile and her eyes, oh god those eyes. The sky was the perfect blue color, the kind you’d want to have on your wedding day, white birds chirped in the air as they flew by.

I stood up and yearned for her touch, her scent, her lips. I took a step forward and then another and soon I was so close I could almost reach out to her. I was so close, she was right there! I could smell her! She was wearing a uniform like mine and when I finally reached her I saw her burnt hair and scraped face and bruised skin and hollow eyes. Oh god those eyes, those eyes, they were no longer hers.

I fell to my knees weeping in my hands, she was gone, the skies were filled with clouds once more and the horizon was lit with fire. The grass was gone, my tears fell downwards as I noticed the golden strands retreating into the mud. I knelt there crying for a minute, the birds that sang so beautifully were now rifle rounds whistling in the air. And when I looked before me the ominous gates of the city towered in front of me.

It was the rifle-butt of a Wolf that I had been groveling in front of that brought me back into the war zone, the cold steel slammed against my head and I opened my eyes. I lay on my back with the group of Wolves that were guarding the second pair of gates standing over me. The lead man, a bastard named Duriel had been the one that struck me, the others held their sub machine guns tightly, itching to use them on any that chose to retreat.

“Back to the wall” Duriel said simply and motioned that way. I struggled to gain my footing among the carnage and once I did I was shoved forward back to my men. Two of my soldiers, Vin and Hauste, caught me by my shoulders and steadied me. They all had the look of desperation on their faces, they knew that death was near and there was very little we could do to stop it.

“By god what were you doing over there!?” Hauste asked, “We tried to stop you but you kept going, we thought they were going to shoot you” the man spoke with genuine fear, and the others around him mirrored his words.

A shell hit right outside the first gate and sent splinters everywhere. A man nearby was peppered with them and fell to the ground holding his mangled face. The red and black eagle of Northelia flew on a tattered standard above the walls and men huddled near the battlements trying to find refuge from the bullet storm.

I was handed a rifle by Vin as he asked what were my orders, I looked out to the fields where an endless tide of Sothelians were struggling forward through the ordinance, and then I looked back to the Wolves. A hatred burned inside of me when I caught them with my eyes, Vin asked me again for orders and I looked to him and saw the dirtied white undershirt he wore, its was torn but it would have to do.

“Take off your shirt” I said. He looked at me confused, and began to speak but I cut him off, “I’m not dieing today soldier, give me your shirt!”

Hauste and the others looked at me like I was the crazy bastard I was.

I pointed to the standard on the wall and told them to bring it down, “Take off the flag, put Vin’s shirt on it”

“Surrender?!?” Hauste cried in disbelief, “but the Wolves…”

I checked my rifle to see that it was loaded with a round and took aim at Duriel, “Fuck ‘em” I cried.

The first shot was high but it still made the kill, his officers hat flipped off his skull after the round made its way through his forehead. I bolted my weapon and felt satisfaction as the spent case ejected. The other Wolves took their time to notice Duriel was dead, but the realization came in full when he slumped to the ground.