The Fey Conquest, # 12— "The Night and the Flux"

[Short stories. Images generated by hotpot.ai]

Swain’s war-band could now be genuinely called an army, the Fey Folk levies becoming accustomed to the authority of the Separatists. About three out of every ten of the recruits could realistically serve as auxiliaries to his battle-hardened countrymen from Ivalice, the levies being largely armed with spears thanks to the artful oversight of Garyf the Poleman. The Poleman had been much more effective than Mark the Bowyer at overseeing the production of spears than Mark concerning the production of bows, but thanks to a few recent Fey recruits who were able bowyers, there were now twenty-three new usable bows in circulation. Similarly, Garyf Minus One (he lost a finger years ago), a fletcher and a reliable officer, was most ingenious in overseeing the production of arrows, which compared to the bows, they had an abundance. They were just beginning to see headway in fabricating bows, thanks to the Fey Bowyer, Jerinkyl, although the Separatists had trouble saying her name fluently, so they referred to her as the Fey Bowyer, or “Inkle”.

The tanners they had recently levied, along with their trainees, had produced seventeen brigandines, nine of which were of fine quality. Through taxation and other means, they were projected in the following months to have enough leather to offer some protection to the poorly equipped Fey recruits. The same was true with the shields, although virtually all the shield-making had begun with absolute beginners. There were some thirty-odd escutcheons, four kite shields, one usable rounder, not counting the three failed kite shields and two failed rounders.

Swain’s ambition was to make all the Fey recruits adept at archery, along with spears and shields, so that when the day of battle arrived, they would be readied as supporting as archers and, in turn, defending themselves with their melee equipment— in other words, he wanted archers who wouldn’t flee; a difficult feat to achieve as a leader.

Meanwhile, Swain partitioned a separate group of auxiliaries for those who had accepted the price of receiving runes on their bodies, and could wield the power of the espers they vanquished. Numyst the war-priest and Krest, the company wizard from Ivalice, oversaw their training, which was foreign to all the other officers.

A Fey recruit who had pledged loyalty to Swain approached his liege, who was attended by his two squires, Nute and Jason. His name was Wyatt, and he used expert discretion to inform the rune lord of the danger that lay in the Village of the Night Esper.

Wyatt had been freed of an oppressive collection of dark espers, his life improving greatly upon joining Swain’s army. Swain and his men were the only ones who had stood up to these entities, while their Fey countrymen who were free from them turned a blind eye to the ones who were their victims. For this, Wyatt was truly grateful to the majestic conqueror, and his sentiment was shared by scores and scores of Fey recruits.

“There’s a conspiracy among the captives,” he said, clearly in terror of being heard, “the Village of the Night Esper is under the control of a Coven. They’re planning to lead your men into an ambush, and when they attack, the ones who hate you will join the ambush.”

“You will be rewarded for this,” said Swain.

“No, Lord Swain. Just protection would be perfect.”

“I’ll have you guarded until we can root out the traitors.”

Swain directed the two Garyfs (Minus One, who lost a finger, and the Poleman) to order his men to prepare for an ambush, concealing their weapons and armor under cloaks, which were abundant as a result of months of taxation. They were told not to break ranks when entering the village, and after lengthy precautions to avoid leaking the information, they would keep their foreknowledge a secret from the traitors among the Fey.

The Village of the Night Esper seemed like an ordinary village, but it was eerily quiet, and though the villagers welcomed them, any fool could see there was something amiss. They offered wares and hospitality, but it was all conveyed in an irksome and exaggerated native accent. Meanwhile, there was a conspicuous lack of children, which the soldiery was made to understand that they were somehow used to feed their blasphemous gods. His men roundly refused, along with the levies. They made their way to the village square, where they rested without accepting any of the offers of the villagers.

The villagers were persistent, and Swain exclaimed for the sake of commerce, his men should take advantage of the soft beds in the few inns of the Night Village. But they remained in tightly packed groups, wary of the danger.

In the town square, his men feigned sleep and a false sense of security in the eerie quiet, and they waited for the inevitable.

All at once the silence was broken by shouts and the unnatural screams of both Night Espers and the villagers that served them.

The soldiers in the inns had readied runes, weapons, and defensive positions in preparation for the ambush, and battle cries were heard harkening to their native soil.

“For the Hokuten!”

“For the White Lion!”

“For the people of Warjilis!”

“For The Black Sheep Knights!”

“For the Rune Lord!”

“For Swain the Conqueror!”

Many of the Fey Folk levies realized that their plan was going horribly awry, and as the Night Espers and their coven rushed toward the town square, their first wave of attack was extinguished by arrows and rune magic.

One of the Fey Folk arose and said, “This is our only chance! Death to the Tyrant!” and unfortunately, only a fraction of the Fey conspirators arose to attack, the rest being quite terrified. They were cut down in a massacre.

“Burn the Night Village!” roared Garyf, and the call rose throughout the soldiery.

Numyst used his thaumaturgy to make his voice boom with the echo of Zakarum. “LEAVE NOTHING THAT BREATHES. GIVE THEM ALL TO ZAKARUM.”

The men from Ivalice were familiar with this admonition, which was when Zakarum ordained everything in a city to be destroyed, both humans and animals. It was believed that somehow the dark energies of the town corrupted even livestock, and whatever children there were, they were also infected; during this age, the invaders had no compunction to bear responsibility for an enemy’s child, and foisting them on the Fey would simply add to their encumbrance.

A single granary had inadvisably been destroyed, the fighters from Ivalice spurned their wine, and the dark magicite was generally useless, with few willing to bear the pain required to wield it. The patron Esper of the Night Village succeeded in killing two of the soldiery, as well as five Fey Folk, before being slain by blasts of rune magic and innumerable arrows. These seven were given burial, and Numyst performed the service and prayers. Absent of the livestock and the goods that had been torched, they acquired an ample amount of storable provisions, tools and scraps of metal, silver, gold, and too many coppers to carry. Swain generously proclaimed he still considered it a loss, as the lives of his men were dear to him.

112 Fey Folk conspirators were killed.

What remained unspoken was clearest of all, which was that no mercy would be given to rebels. Over the next several days, a flux spread among the Fey Folk and no one else, and it was Numyst’s judgment that those who were afflicted by the flux were the traitors that were missed. The Fey Folk had a queer sense of cosmology, having learned to be helpless in regards to the child victims of Iceglass, yet somehow they couldn’t bear the shock of the Night Village burned, adults being slaughtered, and the bodies of their countrymen being burned on a pyre, a shameful end. Curiously for some, the Flux was in fact more deadly to those who could not stomach the crushing defeat, their spirits being burned in the pyre of the Night Village, their innards quaking that their comfortable lives could be snatched away, with no end in sight.

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