“The chanting, the bloodstained altar, the ritual was drawing…something… from the darkness outside our world. A portal opened in the air above the cabal, blacker than black. It was an absence of light, a void into the unknown. Interrupting powerful magic could be catastrophic, but this…thing could not be allowed to enter our world.”

Chapter 78

Wil was lying on the ground, exhausted from the multiple spell castings and trying to shake off the shock of what just happened. His eyes closed, he had his head tilted towards the bright sun when he felt a shadow hovering over him, blocking the light.

Opening his eyes, he caught a glimpse of Garman, right before the man kicked him roughly in the side.

“Up, stupid, can’t be having a nap in the middle of the bloody street. We’re not on a flamin’ picnic.”

Wil was surprised when he saw Garman’s gloved hand in front of him, offering to help him up. Grabbing hold, he hauled himself upright, a little unsteady on his feet.

“Good job, junior. Didn’t think you would come out of there.” The large man said, slapping him on the back and nearly knocking Wil back onto the ground. The large man started to walk down the road, checking on the others.

It was a tired and dejected group that traveled back through the tunnel under the wall. It had only been a few hours, but to Wil, it felt like they had been in Aachen for days.

Of the over forty people who went on this ‘tour’, 6 would be staying in the dead city forever.

Wil had been shocked at how real April had been, how he had fallen for the ruse so easily. Thinking back on the event only a short time later, he couldn’t believe how easily he had been deceived.

Garman had explained that the undead could whisper lies from the darkness, all in an attempt to lure victims to their deaths. Usually a person could resist it, or their companions could knock some sense into them before it’s too late.

What happened today, what that Hags had done, was rare. He couldn’t help but compare them to sirens, luring sailors to their deaths.

Garman would report it to the higher ups, warn the other auxiliary groups of what happened, but Aachen was ‘enter at your own risk’. It was doubtful the report would do anything, the pull of Aachen’s wealth was too strong.

That evening found Wil sitting in the common room that the new auxiliaries were fond of. The large group had agreed to meet to discuss the month’s plans. Even Garman had showed up to ‘babysit’, as he called it.

The large man had been drinking ale nonstop since he arrived, quietly sitting in the corner of the room, not involving himself in the planning.

Wil sat next Garman, still shook up over the day’s events. He let the conversations around the room wash over him, not participating in the discussion. He thought he would need a few days to recover from today’s experience.

The last thing he should do is go into Aachen distracted, not after undergoing its horrors firsthand.

“Alright, junior? You look bloody agitated.” Garman asked, placing his mug of ale back on the table and leaning back in his chair.

“I’ll be fine, it’s just…” Wil paused, looking down at his foaming mug of ale. “It seemed so real, you know?” He said, thinking about that creature with April’s face. He could have sworn it was her, as unlikely as it seemed.

“Aye, tricky bastards. I’ll give you a bit of free advice, kid. Don’t bloody dwell on it. Second month I was here, I saw my old man, waving at me from a window. The gits been dead for years, watched him die myself. But there he was, alive and waving at me, biggest god’s damned grin on his face.” Garman frowned, before taking another long pull on his ale.

“Bet you didn’t waltz in there like an idiot. I’m god’s damned fool. I can’t believe I got tricked… I thought I was stronger than that.” Wil said quietly, still looking down at his full mug of ale.

“You’re right, I didn’t walk in there, I ran. Broke the flaming door of its hinges. I wanted to rip that thing apart for wearing my father’s face.” Garman stopped, for a moment, lost in thought. “Just as bad as you I guess, they still lured me in there.

“How’d you get out?” He asked, looking at the older man next to him.

He hadn’t thought about it before, but Garman was probably only a couple years older than him, but he looked harder than Wil. He had lived those few extra years.

“Got thrown out the window, three stories up. Broke my leg, but it’s better than whatever that bastard had planned.” Garman took another drink. “Anyway, don’t think about it too much. Shit happens, deal with it and move on. Best to get back into it as soon as possible, it gets harder the longer you stay out here.”

Wil nodded at the advice, before he finally took a sip from his ale as well. The two men sat quietly drinking, while the argument around them heated up.

“And I’m telling you, we should go for the Bank! Think about it, all that gold is just sitting there!”

The speaker was short man, only a little over 5 feet tall, dressed in rough looking leather armor. He had scraggly a beard, and lank, greasy hair. He was standing up from his chair as he yelled, and Wil could see that many people in the room were nodding their heads at his words, agreeing with him.

“You heard what Garman said, why would anyone leave the bank untouched if it wasn’t dangerous? It’s been years, and no one had the same plan as you? It’s suicide, and I think you and your fellow halfwits are out of your gods damned minds if you think it will be easy.” A woman said, standing up from her chair to speak as well.

Wil recognized her from the tour, she had been walking towards a doorway, the same as he did, when Garman tackled her.

“If you’re scared to go in, then stay out of our way. One day’s work, and we can be as rich as lords! We go in, take out a few undead pieces of shit, and walk out with all the coin we can carry!” Half the room added their support to the statement, slamming mugs on tables and yelling.

The argument went on for a while, with the room divided. Wil could see they weren’t going to make any progress convincing anyone not to go, the temptation was just too much for a lot of them to ignore. He saw the greedy looks on their faces, how desperate some of them were for coin.

For the goddesses’ sake, even he was a bit tempted, despite being terrified of going back in.

“Idiots. Always a group in every batch looking to die.” Garman said quietly to himself, not offering his opinion to the discussion.

Watching the argument, Wil decided to stay out of it as well. It became clear that most were going to follow the group and try their luck raiding the bank. He wished them luck, even though he knew they were likely to die.

“What will you do for the next month?” Wil asked, ignoring the group and turning his head to Garman.

“You’re looking at it, junior.” He replied, draining his ale and gesturing with the empty mug to the barkeep for another. “I show you rookies the ropes, take the kiddies on a tour every month, and sit on my ass for the rest of the time. Bloody dream job.” He said, as one of the wait staff brought him another drink.

Wil thought about what was waiting for him in Aachen, how he would need to face it soon. He didn’t think anyone in this room was ready. In fact, it looked like a room full of people eager to die.

He needed someone to help him grow stronger, a teacher. Kellerman, Greaves, even his professors at the Academy, they taught him how to swing a sword and cast magic, but he needed someone to teach him how to survive.

He subtly looked at Garman, eyeing the man as he drank. Here was someone who had endured the Auxiliaries for years, against the odds. He could teach Wil what he needed to know, he could make him stronger.

Wil’s shoulders tensed as he prepared himself to ask, already regretting it in his head.

“Gods damn it.” Wil muttered to himself, before turning to the older man. “Listen, I need help. I need someone to watch my back and teach me. I’ve been surviving the last few months on blind, stupid luck, and I’m getting the feeling its running out. I’ve never been trained for any of this, would you…” Wil took a deep breath, already knowing Garman’s response. “Would you mentor me?”

His question caught Garman off-guard as he was drinking from his mug. Ale sprayed from his mouth in surprise, covering the table and the backs of several people seated around them. He turned, wide eyed towards Wil, before bursting out in laughter. Loud guffaws filled the room and people eyed the duo strangely.

“You want me to mentor you? Pissant, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in this shit hole for years. You want me to take you under my wing, little baby birdie? Primaris’ hairy arse, that’s a good joke.”

“I’m serious!” Wil hissed, the words barely making it past his clenched jaw. He regretted this entire conversation, but he was committed.

“Look, how about you teach me for the rest of the month, and I’ll pay you?” Wil asked.

“With what? Not exactly flush with coin, are you? Wouldn’t be here if you were. Besides, I’ve got enough gold, don’t need to risk my neck for anymore.” Garman said, picking up his mug again.

Before he took a drink, he cocked his head to the side, like he had a sudden thought, and set it back down again and turned to Wil.

“Hold on a tic, what’s your last name, junior? You got ‘little lordling’ written all over you.”

“Brookmoor.” It took Wil a moment, but he finally said it, letting out a sigh and looking down at the table.

“Brookmoor…” Garman rolled the name around on his tongue for a moment, before his eyes widened. “Earl of Brookmoor? You’re his brat? Heard about you, even all the way out here. Thought you would be more…impressive. Stories I heard, you should have been able to hold that wall by yourself, you’re supposed to be good with a blade.”

“That’s my brother, Markus. I’m Wil.” He replied, hating to bring up his brother’s name.

“Ah, well… Never heard of you then.” Garman admitted, shrugging his shoulders. Wil started to leave the table, his chair scraping the floor when he felt an iron grip on his wrist, forcing him to sit back down.

“Alright junior, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll mentor you.” Garman said, emphasizing the word distastefully. “You do what I say, when I say it, and you try your gods damned hardest to not annoy the ever-living shit out of me. But I want something in return.”

His eyes were locked on Wil, but he let go of his wrist and grabbed his mug again.

“What?”

“I want a recommendation, to your father’s guard.” Garman said simply, drinking his ale again.

Wil was stunned by the response. He heard from Kellerman that joining the House Guard was desirable for an auxiliary, but he didn’t think that someone like Garman would be interested.

“Fine. I’ll write to Kellerman, he’s the head of Father’s House Guards. I’ll tell him who you are, what you’re doing for me. I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll make sure he gives you a chance.” Wil agreed, standing up from the table.

Garman nodded, waving Wil off.

“Tomorrow morning, bright and early, we head back in.” Garman responded.

Wil made his way out of the common room, the noise of the argument still going strong. He had a letter to write.