Elise sat by the fireplace in the room she now called home. Bundled up in every blanket she could find. One of the Watchmen, a man named Ira, had taken her to the small, one-room house the second they’d finished putting in her stitches, started a fire in the fireplace. Told her to try and get some sleep.
She’d almost laughed at that last suggestion. She knew full well that sleep would be impossible. Not after everything she’d seen, that night.
The scene ran through her mind over and over as she stared into the flames. What happened to that last rider. What she’d done to him. The way he screamed as the fire engulfed him still rang in her ears, the scent of burning flesh still fresh in her nose.
The shadows around her however, held memories that were just as dark. When she looked to the darkness, she was reminded of the monster from her childhood nightmares that had appeared in the darkness. The glowing red eyes. The way Commander Kurzhakova made it sound like the Blight wasn’t just real, but commonplace. And that they were lucky that the one they saw didn’t attack them.
Her mind was still trying to process what had happened. What she’d seen. She doubted that she’d ever truly come to terms with it.
There was a quick knock on the door. “Are you still in here?” Commander Kurzhakova asked from the other side of the door.
Elise stood up and answered the door.
Commander Kurzhakova didn’t look like she’d gone inside since they got to Fort Airde: she was still sopping wet, still had a grim look on her face. As if she had bad news to give.
“Is Ulrick going to be okay?” Elise asked quietly.
“He’ll be on bedrest for a little bit, but he’ll live,” she said. “I came to talk to you about something else.”
Elise stood to the side, and Commander Kurzhakova came into the house.
“Have you been able to sleep, at all?” She asked as Elise shut the door.
She shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep for awhile.”
Commander Kurzhakova nodded in apparent understanding. She sat down in front of the fireplace. “Sit down: we have some things to talk about.”
Elise obeyed.
“I know that things probably happened a little fast, and that it’s all a little raw, but I need to know what you saw in Thaos,” Commander Kurzhakova said.
“… What I saw,” Elise repeated, unsure if she understood her instructions.
“Did any Giskens mention where they were going next, what they wanted, whether or not they had everything they needed,” Commander Kurzhakova prompted. “Anything at all that you think might help us fight these bastards.”
Elise hesitated before answering. What she had seen. She’d seen her whole life crumble in front of her. Saw just how fragile the world was. It had only taken a few days for it all to fall apart. A few days for her to go from never seeing a gun with her own eyes to killing a man with one. The beginning of the week felt like a lifetime ago. A life lived by someone else.
“They want the Godswater,” Elise said. “They don’t know where it is, though: General Fleischer was reading a book on Caithian fairytales to try and figure it out.”
Commander Kurzhakova didn’t react to the information. “General Fleischer is in Thaos? You saw him?”
Elise nodded.
“What else did you see?” she asked.
She looked down at her hands. “They massacred a lot of people. Soldiers and civilians. Even if they’d already surrendered.
Commander Kurzhakova looked like she was remembering something. Something that wasn’t pleasant. “The Giskens are monsters, every bit as bad as the Blight,” she said quietly. Bitterly. “They destroy everything they touch. And they don’t take a damned second to think about the people they leave behind.”
That’s when the dots connected in Elise’s head. The distinctly un-Caithian surname. The cold, distant nature. The way she acted as if she’d seen all of this, before. “You were in Kurzh when it happened, weren’t you?”
She nodded solemnly. “I was in Ilyaskoe during the siege.”
Ilyaskoe. Just the name of that city was enough to send a chill down her spine. She remembered hearing stories about the siege. Stories of cannibalism that seemed to terrible to be true. Stores that were enough to give grown men nightmares.
“Did you…” Elise couldn’t finish her sentence; it was too horrible to even think about.
“Did I ever eat another human being?” Commander Kurzhakova finished for her. She said it in such a matter-of-fact way, as if they were discussing something as normal as the weather. “I don’t know. I wish I knew, some days. Others, I count it as a blessing.” She looked into the flames. “My point is, I remember what it was like.” She looked back to Elise. “I know that things look grim, right now, but things do get better. Eventually.”
Elise wished that she could believe that.
“Did you ever feel like, there should’ve been more you couldn’t done to stop it?” She asked. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but-“
“I know what you mean,” Commander Kurzhakova said with a nod. “A wise man once told me that I should never feel guilt for the actions of others. Pretty words, but that’s the worst piece of advice I’ve ever gotten.” She leaned in a little closer. “Bad things happened to you; I don’t know exactly what, but I can hazard a guess. You weren’t able to do anything about it, this time; there’s no shame in it. What there would be shame in is if you don’t do anything to make certain that nobody can do that to you ever again.”
Suddenly, the commander seemed far older than she really was. It made more sense, now, why someone so young would have a rank so high.
“How do I do that?” Elise asked.
“I can’t tell you that,” Commander Kurzhakova said. “For me, I needed to do more than just defend myself: I needed to be able to fight back. So, I joined the Watch. For you, it might be as simple as learning to shoot that gun.”
Elise wished that she could figure it out as fast as she could. Part of her knew that she needed to do something about it. A much larger part of her wanted nothing more than to go somewhere far away and forget it ever happened.
“Try and get some sleep,” Commander Kurzhakova said, standing up. “Sergeant Hooten will come and get you for chow in the morning.”
She stood up and turned to leave.
“W-wait,” Elise blurted out before the commander could leave.
She stopped.
“Do you know where Milo Brewer is?” Elise asked.
“Milo Brewer,” Commander Kurzhakova repeated.
“He reported here about a week ago to get his permanent station,” Elise said. “I… need to tell him what happened.”
“The name isn’t familiar,” she said. “He your brother?”
Elise nodded.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said.
She left, leaving Elise behind.
She wrapped her blankets around herself and sighed. Now, she just needed to figure out how to tell her brother what had happened.
***
Silas had really hoped that talking to Ulrick’s girl would’ve stalled Eza a little longer. Hoped that he wouldn’t have to see that depressing look on her face for the rest of the night. And yet, low and behold, there she was, standing vigil over Ulrick’s bed. She stared at him intently, as if trying to will him awake. Knowing how much Laudanum Doc had used just to get the poor kid to relax, though, not even the gods, themselves, could wake him up.
“Fleischer’s in Thaos,” Eza said as Silas walked in. Her eyes didn’t leave Ulrick. “He’s here for the Godswater.”
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Silas asked.
She finally looked up at him. “Do you really expect me to be able to sleep at a time like this?”
Fair point.
Silas took a seat by Ulrick’s bedside. “Suppose not. The girl alright?”
“As alright as she possibly could be,” Eza said. “She was asking about her brother. The name Milo Brewer ring any bells to you?”
He gave a curt nod. “One of our new kids. A day overdue for a ranging with Marsh, but you know how it is.”
Eza nodded. He could tell that she didn’t think he was just a little bit overdue.
Of course, she didn’t: that kid couldn’t find a bit of optimism if it bit her in the ass.
“How about we wait a couple days before we cover the mirrors?” Silas asked. “He’s probably fine. You know Marsh: he ain’t going to let anything happen to that kid.”
Eza still wasn’t convinced.
Whatever: he’d met mules less stubborn.
Silas looked down at Ulrick. “Now, we just need to figure out what to do about this bastard.”
“Doc said he’d wake up sometime tomorrow, right?”
“Theoretically,” Silas said. “You never know with Ulrick and Laudanum. Remember how long it took him to wake up last time?”
Eza nodded. Just the thought of having to wait longer than a day to ask Ulrick what had happened to him seemed to make her antsy.
Not that he could blame her: it took all the self-control that he could muster to keep from trying to shake Ulrick awake, himself.
“Have you sent a telegram to Polain, yet?” she asked.
Silas sighed. “Not yet: you know exactly what he’s going to do the second I do.”
“Come to Fort Airde to assess the damage like a good general?”
“Exactly: he’s going to be up all our asses. All the time. I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty shitty to me.”
Eza rolled her eyes and looked back down at Ulrick. Her face became more somber, serious. Silas knew that look: she was thinking. Coming up with plans A through Z. Planning contingencies for her contingencies. It’s what she did best.
“Do you want to tell the boys, tomorrow?” she asked. “The sooner they know what’s coming, the sooner we can start preparing them.”
“I guess we probably should,” Silas said. “Any ideas on how to break it gently?”
“You don’t,” Eza said bluntly. “You tell them outright, and you let them know exactly what’s going on. You owe them that much.”
She was right, of course. Didn’t mean he was looking forward to looking a bunch of kids dead in the eye and telling them that they were probably going to die.
“That girl didn’t happen to mention whether or not she’s got family somewhere, did she?” Silas asked.
“I’m under the impression that the Giskens killed them all,” Eza said.
“Other than the brother,” Silas said.
Eza gave him a look. Sadly, she was probably right about Brewer being dead. Brewer and Marsh’s range lane extended down to the front line, included Thaos. If they weren’t already back, by now, they were either stuck behind enemy lines or they were dead. Either way, the odds of finding out what happened to them were slim to none.
“I need to tell her, don’t I?”
“I would want to know.”
So would he. Didn’t mean he was looking forward to having that conversation.
Gods, was that morning going to be rough.
“Go to the telegraph room and let General Polain know what’s happening,” Silas said. “Once you’re done there, get to sleep. Report here and wait for Polain. I’ll stay here until then.”
Eza raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t think the general would like to see this fort’s senior officer when he gets here?”
“I think you know full well that the day that man wants to see me is the day hell freezes over,” he said. “Besides: you’ve actually seen Thaos: you know what’s going on much better than I do.”
Her eyes narrowed. She looked like she was trying to figure out how he could possibly think the way he did.
Finally, though, she sighed. Alright; fine. If you don’t send someone to get me when Ulrick wakes up, I will kill you. Slowly.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Silas said. “Enjoy your beauty rest: you ain’t going to get much of it from here on out.”
Eza muttered something under her breath in Kurzhian, then stalked off.
Silas sighed. Nothing like finding out you were officially a military leader in the middle of a war. One that you were already losing.
For the hundredth time, he wished he was a sergeant, again. He was sick of this bureaucratic bullshit. Sitting around, watching points on a map move while people died.
Speaking of dead men, he was going to have to figure out what to say to that girl about her brother. His least favorite part of the job.
“I ought to make you do it when you wake up,” Silas said. “You were always better at it than me.”
Ulrick didn’t move. Didn’t wake up.
“Speaking of families: I don’t feel much like talking to yours,” he continued, taking out his flask. “You’d best wake up in the morning. And you better wake up ready to help us win this gods damned war.”
Nothing.
Silas sighed and began to drink. He was going to need it.
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