Chapter 7 - The Refugee

Vilfred

Brynhal

Massive waves crashed against the tall black cliffs, spraying clouds of salty seawater into the humid summer air. Two black structures appeared in the distance, cutting through the deep blue waters and coming closer into view with each breaking wave.

"What in the heavens is Serenus up to?" Brad asked as he stood next to Vilfred, watching the Kassarathi ships approach the coast of Brynhal.

"Seems he's planning on taking Vausterland too." Gustav scratched his head.

"But he can't conquer the Vausterian forces," Brad frowned.

"Oh I think he can..." Vilfred contemplated as the two black warships turned south towards a calm bay, where a few pirate ships stood anchored along a thin strip of sandy beach.

"But he wouldn't send two ships only if he wanted to attack Vausterland," Brad said.

"He will definitely send more," Vilfred scoffed, before he stood up and spread his wings. "Let's go."

Vilfred flew back inland, followed by Brad and Gustav, the only two of his men who had managed to escape the deadly Kassarathi attack on Nordenvania.

With the fall of Nordenvania, the largest and strongest castle in the North, it was only natural for the rest of Nordenland to fall as well. Without even waiting for the severe winter to pass, Serenus's forces had spread throughout the North, taking each and every castle and town. And by the beginning of spring, the Kassarathi had already taken control all over Nordenland.

Knowing this would eventually happen, Vilfred had flown straight to Brynhal along with Brad and Gustav, where they could safely hide without worrying about neither Kassarathi nor Vausterians. The rough and barren coastal hills were no place for civilization, and so Brynhal was an infamous shelter for refugees, as well as a base for pirates who raided unfortunate Western trade ships during the summer months.

A small town stretched atop the steep cliffs, with mostly tents, and a few simple wooden homes accommodating hundreds of humans and winged ones alike. But very recently, only with the beginning of summer, the Chieftain of Brynhal had ordered the building of a large stone fort. It was no coincidence that his wish to reinforce Brynhal came only after the North had fallen. It was not even his wish to begin with. But the wish of King Serenus.

The two black ships that came today were not the first. Serenus had previously sent a large black ship to Brynhal, a few weeks ago, carrying twenty Kassarathi soldiers. But they had not come to fight. Vilfred had seen how the Chieftain of Brynhal welcomed the Kassarathi general with a friendly embrace. Well, the Chieftain was a Kassarathi himself, moreover rumored to have been be a former general as well.

The ships that arrived today were no different. Except that along with soldiers, they also carried healers, blacksmiths, and masons. Not to mention abundant resources of northern wood, iron, and livestock.

Serenus was apparently building a base in Brynhal, which he was probably planning to take as his stronghold in the West. And that was the only way he could fully secure the North, and perhaps later start moving towards Vausterland.

Metal clanked in the distance as Vilfred returned to his tent, where human workers hammered through stone and wood, the beginnings of a long and thick stone wall starting to show. On the other side, the Kassarathi soldiers sparred with both winged and wingless volunteers, teaching them how to fight.

"He must be stopped," Vilfred said as he sat down on a backless wooden chair inside the barren tent, while Brad and Gustav sat on the dirt floor. "If Serenus manages to build a stronghold in Brynhal, then all our chances of getting Nordenland back are gone."

"Like we had any chances in the first place," Gustav muttered.

"No we didn't have any chances." Vilfred shot Gustav a dark stare, yet his voice remained calm. "You're right. We didn't have any chances. Not until now." A slight smirk formed on his face.

"What are you thinking of?" Brad asked with narrowed eyes.

"We're going to get Nordenvania back."

***

Blood splattered as metal blades cut open guts and throats. Dying screams and gurgles mingled with the clanks of swords against armor, and the thuds of spiked clubs against bone and flesh. The air grew thick with the stench of sweat and blood and spilling organs, and the hallway grew dark as more black clad demons streamed towards him.

Vilfred raised his sword, ready to strike against the onslaught, when a nearby scream made him freeze.

Suddenly everyone disappeared. All the black demons had vanished, as well as the Northmen. Except for two figures standing beyond a haze of smoke in the distance. A savage Kassarathi, digging his sword through Hilda's heart.

"Hilda!" Vilfred cried out in the middle of the night, awoken from yet another nightmare.

"My Lord?" Faint Angel Light lit up the tent, where Brad knelt by Vilfred's side. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Vilfred breathed as he sat upright in his bed, well not exactly a bed, but a thin battered mattress that was placed directly on the ground. He closed his eyes and buried his face against his hands.

Hilda...

Vilfred often wondered if he had made the right choice. Fleeing the castle. Without her.

Was it his fault that she was probably dead now? He had tried to stop her. But she pulled away from him and ran straight into suicide, to save her parents who had probably been killed already anyway. 

Should he have gone after her? He knew he should have. He had even attempted to follow her, if not for the swarming Kassarathi who had poured into the hallway, blocking his path. He could have tried to fight his way through the black demons, even with knowing that he would never survive. But at least he would have died with her. That was what lovers did. They died together. But he had not been ready to die yet...

Despite his confidence that Hilda was dead, he still clung to a sliver of hope that perhaps she had made it out alive. He had even searched for her for days, even months, after he left Nordenvania. He had asked every person he met, in every town and every village he had passed through, but no one had seen her. Of course no one had seen her. Because she had been killed. Or worse, captured and tortured.

Vilfred shuddered at the thought, his heart freezing with horror every time he considered that terrible possibility. All he wanted was to know that she had been able to escape unharmed. And if she hadn't, then all he wanted was to know that she had died without much pain.

Morning sunlight peeked in through the multiple holes and tears in the worn out tent. Vilfred sat peering into the ground, holding a thin wooden stick and absently stirring the dirt where he had traced a map earlier. He had not slept again after that terrible nightmare, and had remained awake till morning, thinking, and thinking. Only one thing had claimed his mind. Revenge. For Hilda.

"We're leaving this shithole," Vilfred said when Brad and Gustav woke up, dusting themselves from the dirt that clung to their clothes.

"And where shall we go?" Gustav asked.

"Vausterland," Vilfred said, dark determination in his eyes.

"Vausterland?" Brad repeated dubiously.

"Yes, Vausterland. I am going to make an alliance with King William. To take Nordenland back from the Kassarathi."

Brad and Gustav only looked back at him in blank silence.

Vilfred knew what they were thinking. That he had gone mad. He didn't blame them. Perhaps he had indeed gone a little mad. How could he possibly ask King William for an alliance, when he had outrageously betrayed him the last time? It was more likely that William would order him killed before he even managed to speak his proposition. But Vilfred had nothing to lose. And he had a plan.

"Why would William listen to you," Brad finally broke the silence, "I mean, why would he trust you?"

"Because I am going to warn him about the Kassarathi activities in Brynhal, and a potential attack on one of his cities before the end of the year, probably Grytia or Tyrya." A smirk grew on Vilfred's face as his plan grew clearer in his head. "William is not going to wait. He is going to attack first. He is going to take Brynhal. And he is not going to stop. If he wants to conquer the Kassarathi for good, he will have to keep marching North, until he reaches Nordenvania. No, even further. Until he reaches the Northernmost port of Akaria."

"But if William marches all that way North, he will claim Nordenland for himself. He won't simply... give it to you," Brad said carefully, and Vilfred laughed out.

"Do you think I'm stupid Brad? Of course he won't give it to me. But he'll need someone to rule the distant North. Someone with enough knowledge and experience in the North. But that's still a long way from now." Vilfred stood up and kicked the dirt on the floor, spoiling the map he had drawn. "For the time being, we only need to focus on one thing. Reaching Vausterland and having an audience with the King, without getting killed."

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What do you think of Vilfred's plan? Do you wish for him to succeed, or shall we let King William kill him? :D

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