Burden Of The Soldier

Discussion in 'Player Stories' started by canaaa, Aug 4, 2020.

  1. canaaa

    canaaa tea gremlin Staff Member PR2

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    Inspired by, and a companion to, this progression.

    All dialogue is in Alt-Regalisch, specifically the Calemberger dialect. All characters aside from the Typhonuses are NPCs for the sake of the story. Cowritten by @Epsilyon.

    Any New Regalian characters involved with the military can contact me over DMs to have some sort of personal stake/relationship with the characters in this story for added oomph/arc building.

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    Dust rained down from the ceiling of the Archducal palace as Elias Schmidt looked upwards from his posting in a nondescript hallway, on a day seemingly like any other. “Hey, Reinault - does it ever do that?” Squinting, he raised his right hand to point to the showering, then glancing to the blonde man beside him with pursed lips.

    “No,” Reinault responded, meeting Elias’s gaze for a moment before looking back up once more. They stared at it together, brows slightly furrowed, until -

    Crraaaaaaack!

    It wormed its way across the marble of the ceiling, first slowly, languidly, and then all at once, spiderweb cracks forming, deepening, and threatening to shatter in seconds, as if a dam were to burst from above. Elias’s breath caught in his throat, his grey eyes flicking to the hallway - where Cecille and Giselle Typhonus had just met the Council. “The ladies!” he called, though he was unaware the words had left his lips. Before he knew it, he’d broken into a sprint that way, leaving Reinault with no option but to follow, despite his momentary confusion, as his partner ran.

    Tall, arching windows whizzed by as he ran, driven by a blind sort of panic. Elias slammed into the door with his shoulder, unwilling to break his momentum to pause to open it. Within stood the two women he’d sworn his life to protect, Cecille drenched from the baptismal pool and Giselle’s hand clasped around the other’s, pulling her up and after. “This way!” he shouted, raising his voice over the din of the swinging, groaning chandelier and extending his gauntleted hand out towards them.

    Giselle latched on desperately, and Elias turned his feet to the side, stopping abruptly with a metallic screech as his sabatons ground against the stone. He pulled as hard as he could, letting Reinault secure Cecille, and ran for the stairwell. The hallway began to tilt as their steps thundered over. He looked back, eyes finding Giselle, first, and the windows, second - not allowing himself to linger as the glass began to shatter, shards weaponizing into cutting blades that could spell death for the four of them if they’d been just a second later.

    “Earthquake!” the voices outside cried, the rumbling and shuddering of the palace under their feet now identified. They moved as fast as they could, the quick staccato beat of Elias’s heart rushing through his ears keeping a punishing time to their rush. He kept his hand clasped securely around Giselle’s, leading her down, down, down, to security, to safety.

    “Earthquake!” The word was screamed, now, telling of the mayhem outside. Desperation and fear clawed thick through the cacophony of voices, and the sounds of mobile soldiers, metal-clad feet clattering against the cobbled courtyard, gave way to the deafening clamor of church bells - alarm bells - outside.

    His eyes could barely find the steps in the darkness, the candles long blown out by the sudden drafts, but the muscle memory of everyday patrols of the estate carried them through seamlessly until the end of the stairwell. Not a second too soon, either, as the stairs began to shift and creak just as Reinault put both feet on the ground.

    Elias led them into the plaza courtyard, taking a moment to pause. His breath came in haggard gasps, his dark curls plastered to his forehead, and his eyes darted around to find a safe place to go. The grand cathedral’s many-storied towers rose above the shuddering walls of the town below them, its majesty undeniable even as it trembled. He kept his grasp around his charge’s hand, a part of his heart selfishly delighting in the chance despite the carnage around them.

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    “Elias!”

    He turned, whirling, to see who’d called his name - craning his neck as his eyes scanned over the field until landing upon his commander- er, the woman standing just beside him. His shadow, they’d called her. Something about learning the ropes of command from those who’d already shown their talents. Clearing his throat, Elias raised a hand to indicate himself aside from the orderly lines of the formation. “Yes, my Lady?”

    The young Typhonus was standing at the crest of the hill, her arm extended from the cover of her cloak to greet the large Tytan Owl that appeared in a flutter of pale, speckled feathers against the dawn light and landed on the perch she provided. It was always a strange sight, the otherwise unsuspecting owl as a Drahl bird compared to the hawks and Crow Eagles the other Typhonuses were famous for wielding, but he was her eyes and ears in the pitch darkness of the night, and thus indispensable as far as anyone was concerned.

    Now, however, it soon clicked that she had been calling out to her avian companion and not him, but his response had not gone unnoticed. She paused and turned to look towards the soldier who had called out to her, the sun continuing to rise on the horizon with its rays of light rippling through the sea of shifting grasses that blanketed the space between them. “Oh- ah, yes? What is it?”

    A flush ran hot over his freckled cheeks, and Elias gave her a sharp nod the way he’d been taught in the Tenpenny regiment for his superiors. “Oh, uhm - my, uh. My apologies, I was - well. My name is Elias - er, Elias Schmidt, so I was just … confused. I thought you were - calling.” His eyes searched hers for a moment, an awkward smile tugging at the corner of his lips, lifting the right higher than the left.

    “..Is that so?” Giselle inquired, a small smile playing at her lips in a match for his own as she mulled over the statement, shooting another glance to the owl who shared his name. “It’s a lovely name, that’s why I picked it. Go figure I’d come across another with the same one, no? I guess for your sake, I’ll just have to call you Schmidt.”

    “That’s my name as well, my Lady, so that works,” Elias answered, lightly scratching at the side of his cheek. He nodded to the bird, then. “He’s beautiful, so I don’t mind sharing, really.”
    Elias breathed out a sigh as she finally turned away, called down the line by their commander and quick to answer like the busy bee she was.

    He turned back - only to come face-to-face with his buddy Reinault, whose teasing smile and tone only caused the flush to brighten. His voice lowered mischievously. “Look at you, finally talking to girls. Want to come into town with us tonight, try to score one or two?”


    “No,” Elias snapped back with a huff, staring at a particularly interesting patch of grass. “I don’t,” he said, voice weak as he was suddenly keenly aware of the quick, heavy thrum of his heartbeat. Predicting the huff off Reinault’s lips, he quickly said, “I’ll - come next time, alright? Just … not tonight,” he murmured absently, his eyes trailing after the woman shadowing their commander.

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    Beside him, all four watching the Regnatz hill, the Hispenbau Cathedral, the buildings, everything around them groan and shudder, Reinault lifted his voice - trembling, yes, but proud and faithful. He began to recite, the blonde man laboring to be heard over the din. “Spirit, how many are my foes? How many may rise against me? How many-”

    A cascade of dust rushed in, causing the recital to pause for a hacking cough. He thumped his hand over the eagle emblazoned on his chest. His eyes watered from the exertion needed to see through them, but he wheezed in a gasp to continue, eyes still set on those proud spires that shook, “will say Humans cannot deliver?”

    Elias glanced to Reinault, then to Hispenbau in front of them. A crack rang out, sickeningly loud, and then the tower began to collapse. “But you, Faith, are a shield for me,” Reinault insisted, eyes full of pain as he watched its windows shatter, its bars fall. “My Glory, the Glory of our Mankind, we call out to His will. The will and direction of - of Your Imperial Crown, vestige and body of your- of your- Imperial Will … and Promise …” His words came to a falter, a choked wheeze as the smoky plume rose high over the sky, the sudden and acrid scent of smoke burning at their noses.

    Whatever was said next, if anything, was inaudible for the rumbling from Hadrian’s Mountains, that chain that stood proud and tall and reminded the people every day of the mercies of their Lords, whose words had surely secured them for the good people of Calemberg. And yet - Elias watched, horrified, as spheres of light-

    Flashed. Crackled. Expanded. Burst.

    He took a step back in horror, unable to tear his gaze from the carnage that came - the rocks tumbling from the mountains. The mountains that were meant to protect them. The mountains that were now spelling their end. Stones and boulders hurtled across the open sky like starlit meteors, crashing down through the grand spires and into the parts of his home that he’d held so dear.

    The church he’d grown up attending. The estate his mother had worked at, baking sweets for the children there to afford his education before he’d needed to cast it away to serve anyhow. The sheer sense of loss tore at his heart, ripping it to shreds, but only for a moment - the curled hand in his serving as temporary bandaging. She was safe, behind him. Nothing would endanger that, even as rocks impacted Sankt Poltenburg-platz above and cleaved through it clean in two pieces, then - one standing, and the other toppling forward with the discordant chime of broken church bells tolling within its belfry for the last time.

    The dull roar of its fall rung in his ears like the cannon shots he’d set off on the field. As Elias looked up, he had the sickening realization that it was falling. Not just falling, - it was falling towards them. As it came closer, careening for the four in the courtyard, he turned to his right, screamed something he couldn’t hear himself over the anguished howls, the jarring crash-crash-crash of debris from the mountains’ destruction, the warning screams of the iron supports giving way.

    With the way it was falling, they would be just at the edge of the tower’s destruction. Elias looked back, turning his back to the falling tower and to his liege, his lady, his charge. Surely, if he could just -

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    “Eli, why don’t you take Olivia out? You know she’s head over heels for you, right? And - well, she’s pretty, so it’d be a good time, wouldn’t it?” Reinault asked, leaning down from his higher bunk to peer down to Elias.

    “I’m not interested,” Elias responded flatly, reading over the pages of the book held in his hands - pretending the writing in its front cover didn’t make his heart pound, though he didn’t know if it was lovesickness or a gentle affection, or perhaps a sick mix of both.

    Reinault paused, then - eyeing Elias carefully. A moment’s stare gave way to a softening of his expression, and it seemed as if he’d managed to peer inside the man’s twisting heart with the way his next question cut in deeply.“Are you ever going to tell her?”

    “Whuh- tell her-?” Elias fumbled, his cheeks again reddening before he sat up, the book within his fingers suddenly loosed from their grip, flying for the other man’s face. “I told you, Reinault, there’s nothing there, you’re just - just looking to tease me!”

    The blonde leaned up just before it could make contact, cackling. He effortlessly caught the book in a rehearsed routine of sorts, flicking the pages over to the front cover to bear its inscription openly. “Oh, suuuure! You look at her like you want to marry her!”

    “And is there anything wrong with that?!” Elias huffed as he reached out to snatch it back, though a look of hurt crossed his face as the reality sank in. The fire drained out of him then, and he ignored the hasty apologies of the other man as he turned onto his side, feeling as if an arrow had pierced clean through his heart. Still, perhaps stupidly, he read the green-inked inscription again and allowed himself to wander in that wishful thinking for just a bit longer, to wonder if things could have been different in another life long past.


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    Giselle lurched forward, propelled by his extended hands, and a little smile edged over Elias’s lips. She was safe. Her back was turned to him, then, but in the seconds that time seemed to slow, it was her that craned her neck, now her that found his waiting, almost wanting eyes and searched for an answer within them.

    For a second, just a fleeting second at the end of all things did their eyes lock again across that ever-widening gap between them, the one he had created knowingly and wholeheartedly. For her sake, he smiled wider, put his whole heart behind it despite the seizing terror, the knowledge of his sacrifice; aiming to console her with a smile even as she looked on in horrified realization.

    It was the smile of a man in love who had never been seen for it; the smile of a promise made and duty fulfilled; the smile of a soldier at peace with what was coming; the smile of a dead man lingering like breath on a mirror.


    Finally, everything went blissfully silent. Wasn’t this the burden of the soldier? The burden of a human heart?

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    • Winner x 24
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    #1 canaaa, Aug 4, 2020
    Last edited: Aug 4, 2020

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