The Snake: Chapter 3

The nineteenth day of the fifth cycle, 4006

          “Damnit An entire legion, gone in a night ” The general slammed his fists down onto the table, sending cups flying across the floor. The five other officers in the tent said nothing at this sudden outburst of anger. They’d all been there when he had read the messengers report aloud, and they were all feeling the same anger he was. An entire legion in the span of a few hours Never had the military suffered such a severe loss. Not only that, but the pure strategic position of that legion was a loss, if anyone dare say it, worse then the men themselves.

They’d been the last intact legion the Military had been able to field, and they’d been sent to the bridge to try and prevent the war from escalating. With the bridge lost, there would be nothing keeping the hordes of enemies from crossing the mountains and into the mainland.

The General stormed out, and the other officers followed him, leaving Nathan alone to clean up the mess. He righted the table and chairs, setting the charts and maps back on top in neat, rolled pairs. In the known history that man or creature had the ability to make them, only three maps had ever been made of the octagonal shaped super continent they lived on. So wide and long were it’s dimensions that most men had run out of either food or money by the time they had reached the mountains.

As it stood, nobody was quite sure what the land looked like over the mountain range at the very east end of the continent. Some brave adventurers had ventured over them. Few came back. And those that did brought with them stories of creatures so horrible that the sane mind would refuse to believe them.

And no sane man had... until they had started appearing in the valleys and fields. The military had been the first to react, sending small garrisons of troops to try and protect the farming villages that sat at the foot of the mountains. Then had come the Library’s magicians, and the royal guard of the church. It had all been in vain. The hordes of beasts were too much for man or beast to handle, and they were soon pushed back to the last vestige of defense. The Bridge.

Sometime, thousands of years ago, a violent earthquake had split the land into two equal parts that, without the aid of a bridge, could not be crossed. The gorge was hundreds of feet deep and nearly seventy feet wide and, up until recently had served as a bottleneck which they could defend against any army. It had been more then just a bridge, it was their only hope. And now hope had been lost.

The land west of the gorge, the land of civilizations, had been divided in three since the decline of the last empire. The Military held the largest piece of land, stretching from the north end of the continent to the southern tip, and stretching west for miles. The remaining land had been split into two, The Church state occupying the north, and the Library State occupying the south. The Military’s land was the only thing separating the two other states from the gorge and it’s dangers; a burden that they had un complainingly beared since the start of the war. But the lack of support from those they protected was taking an effect.

The officers returned after a few minutes, slowly and quietly, one by one. First came the man that people referred to as Barney, a name that suited his face perfectly. Weighing well over three hundred pounds, with graying hair and a large scraggly mustache, the only thing funnier looking then Barney’s face was the way he fit into his uniform.

Next came Draken, one of the very last Silvas. Most creatures of wonderful and odd appearance had fled into hiding once violence had erupted, but the Silvas, long time friends and allies of the Military, had stubbornly refused to run and hide. And they had suffered because of it. Their numbers were far too scarce to be comfortable with, and the lack of caves in which they usually dwelt only accelerated their decline.

From the waist up they appeared to be normal men and woman. But from the waist down they slowly changed into what could only be described as a snake. The scales began near their midsection and continued down the rest of their body until they began to form into a long, scaly tail as wide and as long as their torso.

Their more humanoid parts, although close to a human in appearance, were very different. Years of living in caves had taken away their ability to venture out into the sun too long. Their skin and hair were always a sickly looking pale color, their eyes were too weak to see anything beyond a few feet, and they were very susceptible to heat stroke and other sun related maladies. But despite all their shortcomings, they were stout warriors that had played a key role in the war so far.

Following Draken came a man named Baracchus. Nathan knew next to nothing about him, and nobody else seemed to know much about him either. He had apparently appeared one day out of the blue, and had been accepted immediately into an officers role. It was all very odd. His nose jutted out at an odd angle, his messy black hair was always sticking up in several different directions. He looked as if he was always angry, and his beady little eyes often made Nathan uncomfortable.

Coming in last was General Marner Treus, the man responsible for the largest part of the army. Treus was a living relic, versed in old school military and molded in the ideals of the empire. Nobody was sure what race he was, some said Elven, some said Human. You could call him either, and he’d never correct you.

He walked slow, the years having worked his once broad even walk into an old mans saunter. His long thin white hair was braided into a pony tail that fell to the small of his back. Wrinkles and scars covered his face and hands. He gave every appearance of being a feeble old man, but so far he had been the most stout of them all.

He was a smart, clever leader. And although Nathan didn’t serve under him directly, he had heard enough about him to have felt a sort of awe even before he had met the man. Greatness almost permeated from him.

“Gentleman,” General Treus said in his deep booming baritone. “We are faced with a difficult decision.”

The General waved them to take a seat, and they did. Nathan was not so bold as to take a seat at the old wooden table. He was only a courier, after all. All he knew of war were the quickest paths to and from armies.

“With the loss of the legion at the bridge, we can no longer provide protection to all our provinces. Evacuation is now more then just an option. It is a necessity.”

Barney’s face, which was usually red with the mere effort of having to move around, got more red then you’d think a face could. If you compared the two you could com to the conclusion that he was a younger, fatter version of Treus. He clung to some of the same old ideals. “Sir, you can’t mean that The Military has never evacuated before It’s out of the question.”

“So what, we are just supposed to throw men away protecting land that we don’t need?” Draken, a usually quiet and timid creature, interrupted. “And who will be the ones protecting the front line and dying? It won’t be your humans out there dying ”

“A warrior does not run. If you and your men weren’t cowards you wouldn’t even consider retreating ” Barney jeered.

“Cowards ” Drakens pale skin turned a deep red, and everybody knew that Barney had made a mistake. The Silvas cared more for their honor then most people cared about their family. “It was not the humans that led the attack to retake the bridge last year. Maybe if that legion had been made up of competent warriors they wouldn’t have lost the bridge and we wouldn’t have to evacuate ”

“How dare you insult the military you disgusting lizard ”

The two started shouting at each other, and had Barracchus not been seated between them they might have come to blows. General Treus futilely yelled at them to stop, but it still took several minutes for both of them to calm down enough that the general could be heard. The looks they would shoot each other every once in a while promised that the peace couldn’t last long.

“Barnibus,” The General rasped. Nobody ever called him Barney. Not to his face. “Draken. I trust that you two can contain yourselves? If not, I will call the guards in to keep the peace.”

Both sat their nearly shaking with anger, but neither of them said anything..

“Thank you. Now, as I was saying before the..” Treus glared at the two of them “intrusion, We have no option left but to evacuate the more forward villages. The loss of men near the bridge has left our forward position weak. We must consolidate our losses and give up land, otherwise we will be run over in a matter of days. This is my word, and it will not be disputed.”

“Sir,” Barracchus piped in nervously. Nathan had no idea what his official rank in the military was, but most people agreed he couldn’t be higher then a leuitenant.

“Yes, Baracchus?”
“What of the elven villages in the woods?” He looked at the other two men sitting at the table for support, but they only stared back at him. “No courier is fast enough to reach them in the time you are wanting to evacuate.”

General Treus was silent, regarding everybody in the room before speaking. “None of you are to repeat anything that is said in this room. Understood?” They looked at each other for a while, but all nodded their agreement.

“If the public were to learn of this, they may doubt our ability to protect them. We cannot allow panic to spread further then it has. General Rowan and I have been planning for this possibility for a number of years now. He has agreed that he and his men will cover the retreat of all elven villages that can safely be saved. But do not be confused, he knows he is not to take any chances. Only those that can be saved without reckless loss of men will be. Unfortunately, that means some must be sacrificed.”

Nobody said anything. The blood had drained from Baracchus face. Everybody knew it was the only possible course of action, but that didn’t make the news any easier to take.

“Thank you for your understanding,” The general said after a long silence. “I have asked Rowans courier, Nathan here, to carry the orders out. But before that, there are a few things that need to be ironed out. Shall we begin?”

!~~~~~~~~~!

The twelfth day of the seventh cycle, 4006

         Pain. Something was sticking into his side. Was it part of the dream? No, the dream was always the same, nothing new. He must be awake. Eric groaned as he rolled over, tucking his knees into his chest and trying to shake off tonights latest nightmare.

“Was it bad this time?” his friend said, eyeing him from across the fire. Eric nodded, pulling himself to his knees.

Sweat soaked his bedding. Large wet spots had formed on his shirt, trailing their way down until they reached the tip of his pants. Wild clumps of his hair stuck up at odd angles, the strands that didn’t stand at attention stuck to his neck and face. Eric knew what he must look like. Crazed. Insane. Somebody you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley.

Maybe he was crazed. When the first nightmare had hit, it had been the worst he’d ever experienced. Dark, swirling masses of nothingness swallowed him up and choked off the light. They had gotten progressively worse since then.

The more he struggled, the stronger the darkness got until it started to probe it’s way into his body. He’d struggle to stop it, shut close his eyes and mouth in an effort to keep it from getting in. But it found other ways. It simply couldn’t be stopped, so he had stopped trying.

It was only a dream anyway. Why should he care so much about resisting it? In dreams things that normally wouldn’t make sense sometimes do. But even when he woke up he knew that fighting the dark was what he had to do. He simply couldn’t.

Then the voice had appeared, chirpinp at him as if it was a part of the dark nothingness. The voice was calm and collected at first. Every word came out with a soft, almost rhythmic tone. The voice followed the darkness, penetrating his body and echoing through his mind.

When he had begun to fight back, the voice became hard and cruel. It’s suggestions became demands. It always wanted the same thing: A way in. Just surrender to the voice and all of Erics problems would be gone.

Eric was still helpless to fight it. He had to sleep, and having his friend wake him up at intervals ravaged his body. He was left to his own devices to defend himself. Every night he got worn down a little more.

“I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this,” he said. “It might make sense to just give in. If it’s only a dream, what could possibly happen? But whenever I even think about it I get this sick feeling in my stomach...”

His friend only nodded. They’d discussed this dozens of times before, but it helped Eric to get things off his chest. Besides his mother, the man across the fire knew Eric better then anybody else ever had. If he was at all surprised by Erics paranoia he didn’t show. It had gotten so bad that Eric no longer even called him by name.

“You need to get checked out by the surgeons,” his friend said, throwing another log onto the fire and stirring the sparks. “If this is somehow their fault then they must know how to treat you.”

Eric paused. They’d often talked about the possibility that the Military had done this to him. In reality it wouldn’t be too surprising. The military had often been praised for it’s numerous labs and hospitals spread otu across the continent, full of Scientists and cast off Magistrate working on ways to help win the war.

Every month or so they would come out with some kind of new shot or pill that they would test on new recruits. Eric had gotten his about the same time the dreams had started.

“No, that can’t be it.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he stripped off his wet shirt and folded it neatly beside the fire. “If they did do this to me, why would they help me at all? Why wouldn’t they just give me a clean bill of health and send me on my way?”

“What if this is just some sort of side effect? Maybe this has happened to somebody else and they figured out how to cure it.”

Eric gave him an incredulous look, as if he had just said the most idiotic thing in the world.

His friend rolled his eyes. If Eric didn’t want to do something, he’d find the tiniest flaw in the logic and pick at it mercilessly until he either convinced himself he was right, or others just gave up arguing. “There’s only one way to find out. The worst that can happen is you come back and nothing changes.”

Eric huffed. These dreams weren’t some side effect of a faulty drug, They were real. Scary real. If he had honestly thought that medicine could fix it he’d have seen the surgeons a long time ago. “Will you keep nagging me until I go?”

His friend grinned at him. “Of course.”

Eric breathed out a heavy sigh of frustration. The main camp was a good three miles away. About a hours hike through the woods in daylight. At night everything became more complicated. At best he may get their at sunrise.

“Can you hold the post down for a couple hours?” Eric asked as he pulled his now semi-dry shirt and uniform back on. They’d been stationed just outside the border of the evacuation ring for the past week. Not a whole lot of action, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Is that a joke? Of course I can Go, go. Get your head fixed and come back so I can get a good nights rest without you waking me up every half hour.”

His friend waved him off and Eric left without a second glance backward. Maybe he was just fooling himself with these dreams. Maybe they were just a side effect and another shot could fix it. He hoped so.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

         The sun still had not risen by the time Eric crested the final hill on the path to the main camp. The moon had been unusually bright, and he’d been able to move fast through the wood, but it had still taken him the better part of two hours to get there.

In the early morning hours most people would be sleeping cozily in their beds. Not in the military. The next day started just as soon as the previous day ended, and you were lucky to catch a few hours sleep in between. Hundreds of figures scurried around in the early morning shadows. A wood fence surrounded the entire encampment with just two gates that allowed entrance. Eric had come up on a the least used of the two ,a rarely used supply route that had not been used in a while, and he found himself stumbling over rocks in the path that he couldn’t see.

Two guards watched him from their posts near the gate. Each was dressed in full battle armor, weapons continually drawn and at the ready. They eyed him uneasily as he approached but let him pass. It was the only area of the camp that seemed calm. The camp was laid out in a large circle with rows of tents spiraling their way towards the large dirt center.

The outer edges were very busy tonight. People sprinted by as Eric passed. Couriers probably. Domesticated horses were hard to come by these days, and since the stuck up Centaurs refused to be ridden it usually meant that all non-emergency letters were sent on foot, and as a result there was very little sleeping for a courier. This part of the camp was always busy. He continued on, dodging bodies as they sprinted by, blind to the fact that he was even there.

The crowds of people got thicker the deeper he got into the camp. The sprinters became joggers as it became impossible to go ten feet without running into another person. None of these people ever went further then halfway in, and after passing the seventh row of tents, he was left alone without another body in sight. This was the farthest he’d ever been.

To the left lay the medical ward, about fifteen tents in all with medical teams of twenty or so each. Down to his right was the lower ranking officers, usually appointed to resource and personnel allocation. He took a left and turned into the first tent with light coming out of the entrance.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

         “So how long did you say you’ve been having these ....dreams?” The surgeon asked, motioning Eric to lie down on the table.

“Almost two months,” Eric answered as he laid down. The surgeon nodded in a slightly condescending way. Eric could understand. The man had obviously just woken up recently, and the first patient of the day is some dirt covered man whining about bad dreams.

“Have you had any other symptoms? Any swelling? Headaches? Mysterious rashes?”

“No, nothing like that.” Eric wasn’t sure what the surgeon was looking for. He was a portly man, not a foot over five six, and the extra weight hung off his frame in large flaps of fat. Two eyes peered at him from behind spectacles, glaring at him in a very hostile manner.

After struggling for several minutes to get his apron tied around his back, the surgeon pulled on some white linen gloves, tied a white mask around his mouth and waddled his way towards the table.

“They’re just precautions,” He explained as he pulled a metal syringe from his pocket. “You can’t imagine how many patients have died because the surgeon accidentally infected them. Or vice versa.”

Eric felt a chill run down his spine, took a big gulp. Why was he telling him these things? Eric was nervous enough as it was.

The surgeon produced a bottle of blue liquid from his other pocket, and Eric felt his pulse quicken.

“I know you weren’t expecting another shot Mr.....” The nose above the doctors nose crinkled as he tried to remembers Erics last name. After a few moments he gave up, dipping the needle into the bottle and filling the syringe. “Since all your symptoms only occur while you are sleeping we have no other choice but to observe you in that state and then make a diagnosis. Don’t worry, it’s just a mild sedative to help you relax.”

Eric still wasn’t so sure about this. The entire tent had a eerie feel to it. Jars of what looked like organs lined the small wooden desk that sat in the corner. The whole place felt more like a laboratory then a surgeons tent, and the surgeon looked more like a mad scientist then a doctor.

"Maybe I should come back later. You know... give it another night" Eric muttered nervously.

"Nonsense," The doctor assured him. "Now just relax, this will sting a little but the pain will pass."

Eric sat up and swung his legs over the side of the table. But the surgeon moved quick for a fat man, pulling erics sleeve up and injecting him before he could object. The tent began to fade as he began to slip into a deep sleep, all the while hearing the surgeons cracking voice, trying to reassure him that everything was fine. Something told Eric it wasn't.