The smell of ice permeated the air. Senwick awoke, far too early considering he had slept at the crack of dawn, to find that his joints were aching dreadfully. This was a common occurrence in the frigid winters north of the Needle Ridge, even for a man like Senwick who, at twenty seven, was still in the prime of his life.
As Senwick gingerly stretched out his knees, he noticed that the air outside was oddly calm. Vangurheim was usually bustling during the mornings, full of activity and commotion. Senwick was a soldier, and a soldier’s life was destined to be one of solitude and isolation. Hence, he had grown fond of the noise and activity outside his room, a room that was right next to the outer wall of his barracks thanks to his relatively high rank.
However, as Senwick arose and stretched the last few kinks out of his joints, he realized that what he was hearing was not the absence of sound itself, it was just the absence of the positive energy usual present within that sound. This morning sounded nothing like the mornings Senwick was used to hearing. There was no laughter or good natured haggling, there was none of the playful screaming of children. This morning sounded all wrong.
Senwick got out from under his covers, put on his furs and hurried out of his room. All around him he saw tense commotion, not quite the sort of panic that what make a ruckus but still enough to create palpable tension in the air. Across the corridor, Senwick saw Ulf, his commander and friend, frantically whispering orders to a soldier.
“Ulf!” said Senwick, “What in Rüg’s name is going on?”
“Senwick,” said Ulf, rushing towards him, a grim expression on his face. “I knew I should have woken you. You had commanded the night watch and I wanted to hold off on telling you until you were well rested.”
“Ulf, just tell me what’s going on,” said Senwick, so desperate to gain answers that he forgot to refer to his friend by his proper title as he was supposed to in public.
Ulf took a deep breath as if about to speak but then only grimaced and exhaled. “Perhaps it would be better if you heard it from him. I… I wouldn’t know how to begin saying such a thing.”
“Him?” asked Senwick with a frown, “Him who?”
“Aru,” said Ulf.
“Aru Breren?” asked Senwick. “He’s here? Now?”
“Yes,” said Ulf, “And I would strongly suggest you let him tell you what’s going on.”
Senwick followed Ulf across the courtyard to the great hall, wondering what would bring the great general to Vangurheim. This town was an outlier right next to the Needle Ridge, far from the central Free Cities further north. It’s only importance lay in the fact that it was the last line of defense in case Southerners tried to invade, but the Free Cities were in the middle of a great peace that had already lasted over a century.
But if Aru Breren, the legendary war commander of the Free Cities, was here… whatever his reason, Senwick was already starting to feel a chill run down his spine.
