The Angels' Song - Chapter I
The angels soared into the night sky, trails of white and gray following their ascent as they dissolved into the darkened clouds. Their harrowing whistling brimmed the air and enveloped the trenches in a blanket of dread. The trucks which birthed the angels lined the edge of a thicket, their launchers continuously illuminating the trees with the constant firing of rockets, unleashing a hail of destruction which lined the night sky.
I felt sorry for the bastards on the receiving end of the rockets. A faint whistling would be their only warning before the rain of explosions pelted their position, turning the grass up and exposing the raw dirt beneath it. Many of my comrades have gone to calling it "The Angels' Song".
I cradled my rifle as the sound besieged my eardrums, rain softly pelting the muddy ground of the trenches, as I sat atop an exclave of wooden seating which jutted outwards from the walls. A muddied puddle of water chimed with rain droplets as I peered into my rippling reflection. I was a light-gray wolf of average height with a blackened nose which topped my snout and two brown eyes. A mat of soft, black hair resided atop my head, rustled and messy from the rain and humidity.
"Fenris!" I heard my name called through the whistling. I was ripped from my daze.
A black horse of large stature approached me, peering down upon me with two brown, judgmental eyes as he neared. He donned our uniform; a moss-green jacket with silver, vertical buttons lining the center and dotted by various pockets. The pants bore the same color scheme, save for a black line which ran down at the sides. Atop his tousled, coal-black hair rested a gray cap which had the symbol of our nation embedded into the fabric: A yellow sword and torch, which crossed one another in a uniform fashion, laid atop a sea of royalty purple.
"Yes?" I responded with a tint of irritation in my gravelly voice.
"General Hovos has requested your presence within his cabin."
I let out a sigh.
"Alright, thank you." I uttered as I erected myself and began to make my way to the general's cabin, leaving behind my rifle.
The trenches were an intricate maze of mud, wooden platforms, and sandbags. I weaved through the ditches as I trekked along, slowly distancing myself from the fields beyond the trenches. The whistling became scarce, as only a few rockets were being dispatched now.
Soon, the general's cabin was in view; a small flight of stairs leading to an oak-wood door that had a small horizontal slit at the top-center. It was guarded by two foot soldiers who stood at attention with solemn eyes. Our purple banner flew atop the entrance of the cabin as it viciously battled the midnight winds.
"Hey, Fenris?" A sudden, light voice made me halt in place.
To my left was Devnar Ofris, a deer of medium size who was slouched lazily against the walling of the trench. I've only known him from training, but he was the closest I had to a friend here.
"Yeah, Devnar?"
"Ya' hear the rumors? Skinned bastards might actually sue for peace soon."
"And you believe that?" I scoffed at him with a faint smile, "We've been hearing those rumors for two years now."
"No hurt in believin' them, is there?" He declared zealously.
"I guess not, man. Listen, I gotta see Hovos about something."
Devnar slowly nodded his head.
"Maybe you're getting transferred?"
"Maybe."
"Well, good luck nonetheless. Try not to get chewed out, alright?."
I bid him farewell and continued my venture.
The two guards ordered me halt as I confronted them.
"What's your business here?" One demanded; a tan, small horse with a smooth voice.
"I'm Fenris Alvvar, sir. General Hovos summoned me here."
The guard peered off to his comrade, and they nodded simultaneously.
"Alright." The horse said as he granted me entrance. I slowly plodded down the wooden stairs and come upon the door. I knocked on the surface twice and awaited a response.
"Come in." A raspy voice conjured in reply. Diligently, I turned the cold knob of the door and pushed it open, the hinges squealing as they moved. Inside, a surge of warmth embraced me as light poured from the general's cabin and melted onto the ground behind me.
At the center of the large, decorated room resided a wooden desk, with General Hovos at its helm; a burly, dark-gray wolf donned in a general's attire with numerous medals and awards dotting the fabric of his jacket, reflecting the dancing light of a nearby candle. A stern expression was strewn across his face, but as I entered his mood brightened.
"Fenris!" He proclaimed as a cigar lazily resided at the edge of his mouth. A phantom of smoke danced from the charred end of the piece. "Come, sit down, and close the door for Gods' sake, don't want to let the warmth escape."
I complied and closed the door, and ambled over to one of the parallel seats. The cabin was brimming with an array of paintings depicting various key events in history, like the assault on Herravol in 412, as well as an assortment of maps which were plastered across the walls and marked heavily with arrows and dots.
General Hovos produced a bottle of red-tinted alcohol from beneath his desk and brought forth two small glasses. He then brought his attention to me.
"Care for some Govenni wine?" He asked in a friendly tone. I was mildly surprised by the offer.
"Uh, sure..." I carefully answered. He poured the liquid into one glass and placed it near me.
I brought the cold glass to my lips and drank the liquid. It had a bittersweet, foreign taste which made me wince slightly as I choked it down. Hovos let out a slight chuckle as he provided himself with some of the alcohol.
"Takes a while to get used to the taste, but it's cheap and plentiful." He said before taking a sip.
"It's... It's not bad. Uh, General Hovos? Not to be rude, but why did you call me down here?"
He let out a sigh as he slouched in his chair, waving around his glass playfully. A clap of thunder rolled across the trenches as the rain outside intensified.
"If I'm going to be completely honest," He began, his tone solemn, "You're one of the few people here that I can trust."
"Uh, sir...?" Such information was new to me.
"I tell my colonel about the possibility of there being peace, possibility, possibility, and what does he do? Spreads it around as though it was completely true, getting everyone's hopes up for nothing."
His voice was bitter as he vented to me.
"But I know I can trust you, Fenris. We've talked enough that I know you won't publicize every single word I say."
An awkward silence conquered the room, save for the occasional crackle of thunder and the light pelting of rain atop the wooden structure of the cabin.
"So what do you want to talk about, sir?" I implored Hovos.
He slowly erected himself from his chair and strolled over to one of the maps sprawled across the wall. He stared at it longingly.
"I fear that there won't be peace, Fenris. No, I know that there won't be peace."
His eyes remained locked on the map with his hands intertwined behind his back.
"How come?" I asked.
"The Novstroikan President, Levvaris Betras, is a young, arrogant bastard that would rather see his entire country burn than let it be defeated in war. He denied the treaty sent to him that would've usher in peace between Novstroika and Demnaria, and instead offered a ceasefire which will go into effect in two weeks. This... This worries me, deeply."
"Why?"
"Because Betras is going to push his Legions south as to gain as much land as possible before the ceasefire is officially called, and we reside in a crucial spot that he'll be sure to try and take."
He stopped for a moment to recollect his thoughts.
"An attack is imminent, I just don't know when." Hovos said as he pivoted around and returned to his chair, his eyes now locked solely on me.
"Oh..." I fidgeted with my hands uncomfortably, "Then why don't we push up? Take the fight to them before they come here?"
"Because the incompetent bastards back home see this as a 'peace' rather what it actually is, and have begun demilitarizing the border in hopes to appeal to Betras. I've tried to caution them, I really did, but they've so far ignored my warnings. We'll be the last to be sent back, but Betras will have ordered an attacked before then."
He let out a distressed sigh.
"I'm sorry I'm venting all of this to you. I just... I just need someone to talk to about all of this. If I tell my colonels all about this, the entire place will know about it before sunrise, and I'd rather not have the men know that everyone around us are being ordered back."
"I... I understand, sir." I responded in a calm tone. He nodded slightly.
"Go back to your bunk and rest. I want you well and ready if an attack does happen. If anyone asks why you were in here, tell them that I simply had a message for you from home, alright?"
I nodded in silent compliance before bidding him a good night and departing from the cabin. Outside, the whistling had ceased entirely.