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Fort Vesta, Final Scene

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Friedhelm
Fort Vesta

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Cpt. Hellriegel
Fort Vesta


Friedhelm found himself upon the frigid stones of the silent fort. Before him, the snowy soil was blanketed by myriads of soldiers, airmen, marines and sailors. Disciplined in pristine lines and attentive eyes, Grozny's finest all gathered before Friedhelm, expecting an answer to their summons. The awe-inspiring sight was nevertheless laden with melancholy and gloom. Following his comrade's death, mysteries unfurled, as the Grandmaster now must decide to pursue the path that he had long neglected, but subconsciously catered to. Neither sympathy nor his shared past with the Iris Company could dissuade him from this quest. He turned to his aid, a young captain whose uniform retained the wounds of yesterday's plight. In her eyes, the ember of her vigor has yet to be extinguished. Friedhelm acknowledged her presence as a reminder of his duty. The man took to heart the recent developments, as well as his failures, with a heavy heart. He pondered what he should said, in addition to what he will say. His grips tightened upon his cane, as he gazed back at the black sea of warriors before him. A sharp inhale followed, as he finally raised his voice.

"You all know why I'm here. I'm not an orator. I'm a soldier. As you have heard of yesterday's tragedy. Sigismund was among us, but in the end, he followed through with his beliefs. Following a thorough investigation into the incident at Nova Heights and the subsequent events that placed our boots on the streets, our virtuous hero, the icon of Grozny's hope is a sworn Harbinger. The Company's refusal to obey the law is evident. Many of you, including myself, have lived through the war. We bled alongside the Companions. We gave our hearts. Yet here we stand, with the grotesque truth that they have turned their backs on Grozny. Conflicted, as some of you may feel. Take your leave now, should you choose to, but remember what the armor that you are donning now means to you and your brethren." Friedhelm spoke, raising questions among the men.

Some decided to turn away, but not before being reeled back into line by their conscience and code of honor.

"From this moment forward, Iris Companions are presumed rogue and dangerous. Their status as Grozny's defenders are now revoked. They are now deemed as enemies to the Empress and the Company is henceforth disavowed. We will hunt them down alongside their Harbingers associates for the remaining days of their lives, and bear justice upon them. For those who chose to stay, I expect you to carry out your duties. All of our central resources and manpower will now be directed towards this endeavor. Execute capture or neutralize actions on any Companions on sight. You are all dismissed."

As Friedhelm left the walls, he turned to Hellriegel, whose legs were petrified.

"Having second thoughts, Captain?" Friedhelm inquired.

"No, Grandmaster. What's my order?" she replied softly.

"Have the men canvas Nryx International, and implement flight delays until it is done. Work your way inwards. I'll prep a team for sensitive-site-exploitation procedures on Fifty-Ninth, Sylvia's place, and work my way outwards. Maybe we'll catch something. We'll meet at DiConti's.

"Grandmaster, you haven't slept for a day. Maybe I can get Kaplan to take over. You should probably catch some shut-eye." Hellriegel finally expressed her concerns.

"I appreciate the concerns, but I can't rest now while the trail is still hot. You have your orders, Captain." he said, fixing Hellriegel's czapka. He gave her a nonverbal gesture to depart.

Hellriegel saluted Friedhelm and parted ways. The latter came to a halt upon the eastern horizon. Left to his own devices, he finally brokered his own thoughts to himself. Perhaps the truth will come to light as he seeks it. But even Friedhelm was afraid of those answers. A part of him was glad that Sylvia and her Companions had made it safely out of the city by some mere chance. He wanted to believe that they were innocent, while he suffered the speculative uncertainty of the situation. With what Hellriegel had returned with from the Starline Magecraft Institution, he felt it gnawed at him. Friedhelm could not help but assume that Sigismund's last word was more cryptic than what he meant. No doubt, time will reveal all things. Before the Grandmaster could finalize his thoughts on their recent findings, he felt his body robbed of energy. Having spent more than a day without a proper meal, the detrimental consequence had finally caught onto him. Yet, he pressed on, marching forward towards the central office, but not before giving the distant forest one last glimpse.

"May the Stars prove me wrong, Sylvia." he mumbled to himself.

Before he could action his own duties, there was a certain someone of whom he must tend to. A face so vigorous in the past, but now a mere name upon the white marbles. Despite his speech, Friedhelm kept to himself his gloom. He saluted a fellow Black Watcher on his way out, content with what was asked of them. The Dovean deserves a better fate than to be buried beneath the rotten ground. Friedhelm's eyes wore away, as he refused to give into the anguish. His every step of the way was as heavy as his troubled mind.

 
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