SO, with the prologue, I told people I'd tell them where my inspiration for the dark magic users came from. I thought it was obvious, and people would guess, but after a few guesses I was like "Oh yea. I got my Netflix privileges taken away and these people haven't."

Anyways the inspiration, or rather reference, for the dark magic users came from... drumroll please... the nazis. I've spent a lot of time researching history and the nazis were the closest thing to corrupt, inhumane, lost-their-minds people from real life I could find.

Good guesses to everyone who tried to guess though!

Also, this will be my last work published for a while. Next week, I'm going to Puerto Rico and the week after I get back, I'm going to a church camp. So I'll be busy for the first few weeks of the summer but I will be back after that!

A God Named Sin

By Heather Anderson

Chapter 2 - A Camp and A Captain

Finally, they reached Valence after what felt like forever. The camp was stationed in a valley with a small river running through the trees. There were rows of tents and wooden buildings. All the tents were covered in leaves, mud, moss, and other natural camouflage. The wooden buildings were also covered in similar camouflage. The people had done good jobs trying to camouflage the camp.

People milled about, wearing the same uniform as Xevik. They all also seemed to have odd features like Xevik — tails, horns, wings, animal ears, claws, extra limbs, markings. In a field towards the back of the valley, people were sparring, doing drills, target practice, and other trainings, which added to the loud noise of the camp. There were also some animals in the camp — horses, dogs, birds, and even what looked like dragons, unicorns, and pegasi.

Rylie stared around in awe, unsure of what to make of this place. Xevik walked down into the valley, approaching the camp. The closer they got, the more people stopped what they were doing to stare at Rylie. Once they got close enough, someone spoke up.

"Bluekeep... What is that?" a person at the front of the crowd asked, pointing at Rylie.

Xevik raised a calming hand. “Don’t worry. This is Rylie. She’s a human.”

Immediately, the crowd erupted in a cacophony of startled cries and shocked murmurs. Another person at the front of the group, sounding older than the rest, spoke up.

“Are you mad, Bluekeep?! You’ve brought a human into our camp?!” the older sounding person asked. “And how do you know its name? They can’t speak Va’Lerian!”

“Please, everyone, calm yourselves,” Xevik said, his voice firm but also gentle. “She won’t hurt any of you. She has an injured leg and needs medical attention.”

The older person scoffed. "That human could be dangerous, Bluekeep! And taking it to the medical tent where injured people are? It could kill someone!"

Xevik's wings bristled. "Dangerous!? She can't even walk! How is she going to harm anybody when she's in her current state? I gave her my word I’d see to her injury, and I intend to keep it.”

The older person looked like they were going to argue further, but a loud, authoritative voice yelled through the camp.

"What in the 8 Gods is going on here? I could hear you all yelling all the way across the damned camp!"

All the people went quiet and the group of them around Xevik parted to let a middle-aged man walk up to Xevik. The middle-aged man had pure white hair with a single black strip in it. His eyes were an unnatural yellow color. His right eye was closed and had a bunch of scars that looked like claw marks around it. There were 2 black horns coming out of his head, 2 black, leathery wings with white tips folded behind the man, and a white tail with a black tip was swaying behind him. He was also wearing a uniform, but his looked fancier them everyone else's, with some metals and ribbons attached to it.

Xevik straightened himself up and folded his wings back up. "Killian, sir," Xevik said. His tone was suddenly very respectful, and his attitude was suddenly humbler.

The man, Killian, looked from Xevik to Rylie, and stared at her for a second. His gaze shifted up and down as he seemed to study her. Killian then looked back at Xevik. "Care to explain why you are standing in the middle of my camp holding a human, Bluekeep?" Killian's voice had a slight undertone of irritation in it.

"She's injured, sir. I was going to take her to the medical tent to get a healer to take a look at her," Xevik responded.

Killian's eyes narrowed and he was silent for a moment. "What's wrong with her?" he asked.

"She's broken her leg pretty bad, sir," Xevik replied, tilting Rylie slightly to show her injury, which was hidden by her bloody pant leg. Killian looked at it with an almost suspicious curiosity.

"Take her to the medical tent, Bluekeep," Killian said. "And then come talk to me afterwards in the central command tent.”

Xevik nodded and gave a quick “yes sir”, before walking off into the camp while still holding Rylie. As Xevik walked, the people in the camp gave him — more specifically Rylie — looks of curiosity, shock, and even some of fear. It was making Rylie uncomfortable. She didn’t get why they were looking her like that. Why they looked scared.

After a minute or so of walking, they reached a large tent. Xevik carried Rylie inside and then laid her onto a cot. The cot was very comfortable for something in a camp and had thick blankets on it. After setting Rylie down, 3 people, who Rylie guessed were the healers, walked over. 2 of the healers looked fairly young while the 3rd looked much older.

The older looking healer had shoulder length hair that was white, like snow, with black streaks running through it in a zig-zag pattern, and their eyes were a pale blue color. Based on their body, Rylie could guess they were female. The healer looked at Rylie with a bland, unamused expression for a few seconds before speaking.

“So, Bluekeep. You’ve brought a human, I see,” the healer said in a monotonous tone, not asking a question but merely stating a fact. Xevik nodded.

“Yes. She’s hurt — her leg. I think it’s broken,” Xevik explained, setting Rylie’s backpack next to the cot she was laying on. “I could see a bit of bone sticking out.”

The healer looked Rylie over, focused on her leg. She then turned to one of the 2 younger looking healers, who had wolf-like ears on their head, covered partially with their lavender hair. “Fenrir, go fetch me some clean bandages and a splint please.”

The lavender-haired healer, Fenrir, nodded and disappeared somewhere off into the tent. The older healer then turned to the other young healer, who had brown hair and orange eyes. “Raven, go fetch some Wardenberries and Zonae. We’ll need it for her pain.”

The brown-haired healer, Raven, nodded and also disappeared somewhere in the tent. Xevik looked from Rylie to the older healer.

“I have to go. Killian needs to talk with me,” Xevik suddenly said, sounding a bit uncomfortable.

The healer looked at Xevik. “You brought a human into the camp,” she said, “that means you deal with the consequences. But it won’t be too bad. Killian is a fair man, unlike his brother.”

Xevik nodded and gave Rylie one last look before walking out of the tent. What happened next was mostly a blur. Raven and Fenrir came back, and the healer, who Raven and Fenrir called Na’viir, gave Rylie a couple of berries, orange in color and each about the size of a blueberry. The berries tasted bitter, like raw cocoa, but a few minutes after eating them, the pain in Rylie’s leg went away. Na’viir also gave Rylie a drink that had a tasted like the berries and had a thick, syrupy texture to it. The drink made Rylie feel a little drowsy and disconnected from her surroundings, but it kept her mind off her leg.

Rylie must’ve dozed off at one point, because next thing she knew, she was waking up with her leg in a splint. The splint had odd black leather and buckles holding it in place. Her pant leg had also been ripped off near her hip, but it had been stained with blood so it wouldn’t have made a difference anyways. It was dark outside and the temperature had dropped significantly. Rylie shivered.

There was a table next to the bed with a few folded blankets, a cup, and a small bowl of those orange berries. The three healers were nowhere to be seen, leaving Rylie alone in the dimly lit tent. Rylie reached over and grabbed one of the blankets. It was thick and soft. The material was foreign to her, it felt almost like a mix between silk and cotton, but was much warmer. She wrapped herself up in it like a cocoon and curled up on the cot.

Her backpack was sitting right next to the cot, untouched. Rylie was just thinking about everything that had happened. What was this place? Why did it feel like she was in a fantasy book? Why did everyone look at her like an oddity from another planet? Her thoughts drifted off as she drifted to sleep again.

Rylie woke up a while later to a presence beside her. It was starting to get bright outside, giving Rylie enough light to see. She opened her eyes and saw that there was a dog staring at her, mere inches from her face. The dog looked like a wolf, but with a more muscular build and extra fluffy fur along its neck, flanks, and tail. It wore a sturdy harness with small pouches attached, and deep blue gemstones gleamed from the straps. The dog’s fur was a light brown with darker marks around its snout, feet, and tail. Its eyes were an orange color, and they held an intense and intelligent gaze.

The dog let out a bark and Rylie jumped, nearly falling off the cot. “Woah! Where did you come from?”

The dog barked again, its tail wagging. Rylie hesitantly reached out her hand for the dog to sniff. The dog sniffed her hand for a few seconds before licking it gently. Rylie chuckled and started petting the dog. The dog’s fur was soft but a bit coarse.

“I wonder what your name is?” Rylie said to herself, looking at the harness to see if she could spot a nametag or something. The dog barked again and tried to lick Rylie’s face, but Rylie moved away. She wasn’t used to dogs licking her face, considering she only had cats growing up. The most she was around dogs was when she was house-sitting.

“Sorry, I’m not really a face-licking kind of person,” Rylie said, laughing nervously. The dog seemed to understand, because it stopped trying to lick her face, instead opting to try and clamber onto the cot with her. Rylie helped the dog onto the cot, moving so they both could fit, and it immediately curled up next to her, nudging its head under her hand to be pet. Rylie smiled and obliged, continuing to pet the dog. The dog’s tail was still wagging.

After a few minutes of peaceful petting, Rylie reached down and grabbed her backpack. She unzipped it and pulled out her sketchbook and a pencil before putting her backpack back down. The dog lifted its head and tilted it before laying back down. Rylie smiled and flipped to a new page in her sketchbook before starting to draw the dog. The dog seemed content to lay there and be her model.

Rylie just sat there for a long time, drawing the dog and enjoying its company. But then…

RRRR-AAAAGH

A deep sound echoed through the camp — loud but gentle at the same time. It sounded like the conch shell her aunt had brought back from her trip to Hawaii. The sound caused Rylie to jump and drop her pencil. The dog lifted its head and perked up its ears, looking towards the entrance of the tent. A voice followed the sound as it died down.

“Time to rise and gear up! We’re on a tight schedule today.”

The dog let out a whine before hopping off the cot and trotting towards the entrance of the tent. It slipped out of the tent and, from outside, Rylie heard people starting to talk with one another. Rylie sat there, trying to figure out what was going on. She didn’t want to get up and risk hurting her leg more than it already was. But at the same time, she wanted to know what was going on and if anyone was going to come check on her.

The sounds outside continued, more sounds now joining the voices. Metal clanging, people walking past the tent, dogs barking, horses neighing. What sounded like snarls and hisses. The camp went from being dead silent to very lively in a matter of minutes.

The tent flap opened and in walked Na’viir. She looked down at Rylie, her expression unreadable. “Good, you’re awake.”

Na’viir walked over to Rylie and knelt down to examine her splint. “How does it feel?”

“Better than it did,” Rylie answered.

Na’viir nodded and stood, going to the table and grabbing the cup. “Drink this.”

“What is it?” Rylie asked, hesitantly taking the cup from Na’virr. The cup felt like it was made from wood. It looked made of wood too. Inside was what appeared to be water with leaves floating inside. The smell was sweet and earthy.

“It’s Fal’Syr. It will help with the pain and speed up the healing process,” Na’viir responded. “Once you’re done with that, I need you to take these as well.”

Na’viir reached into the bowl of orange berries and plucked a handful of them. “These are Wardenberries. They’ll keep your pain away.”

Rylie looked back at the cup, considering her options. She didn’t… entirely trust these people, but she also didn’t want to be in pain. She sighed and brought the cup to her lips, taking a sip. The drink tasted like those orange berries — bitter — but they also had a slight taste of something she couldn’t quite pin down. It wasn’t the best thing in the world, but Rylie would just deal with it. Though she did drink it as fast as she could before handing the cup back to Na’viir, who handed her the berries.

Rylie quickly ate the berries, the bitter flavor of them lingering in her mouth. After Rylie was done, Na’viir walked over to a corner of the tent and grabbed a folded pile of clothes.

“Here,” Na’viir said. “These are some clothes that should fit you. They’ll help keep you warm. It gets pretty cold around here.”

Rylie took the clothes and unfolded them. They felt like the blankets — like a mix between silk and cotton. There was a pair of pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a belt that looked to be made of the same black leather the straps on Rylie’s splint were made of, and a thick hooded cloak. The legs of the pants had what looked to be zippers or buttons on the sides of the legs, going from below the hip to the end of the pant leg.

“If you need help dressing just ask,” Na’viir said before walking out of the tent, likely giving Rylie privacy to change. Rylie sat there for a minute or so more, wondering what to do, before attempting to stand. She put her good foot down and used the table as support as she pushed herself to her feet. She expected her leg to hurt when she put some pressure on it, but to her surprise, it didn’t. It felt like normal. Rylie tested it a few more times, taking a few small steps. Whatever spilt was on her leg, she could walk on it like her leg wasn’t even broken.

Rylie then started to get dressed in the clothes. The shirt was easy enough to put on. The pants were a little harder to get on, but the zippers on the legs helped her slip it over the splint, though she could only zip one pant leg up. The belt was the easiest to put on, and the cloak was just as easy to throw over herself. There was a large button on the cloak that helped keep the cloak in place.

Rylie grabbed her sketchbook and put her pencil in a pocket on the shirt’s chest, then made her way to the tent entrance. She pushed the flap open and stepped out of the tent. Na’viir was right outside of the tent, waiting for her.

“Alright, let’s get you something to eat,” Na’viir said, looking Rylie up and down. She then started walking, leading Rylie through the camp.

The camp was bustling with activity. People were moving around the camp, putting things away, bringing the different animals water, and all of them seemed to moving towards the same place. A large building in the middle of the camp was the spot everyone seemed to be heading to — and where Na’viir was leading Rylie. There were some people going out of the building as well, carrying what looked like bowls and cups. They went towards a field and then sat on the ground to eat.

Must be a mess hall, Rylie thought. As they got close to the building, Rylie could smell food, spices, and something she couldn’t place, but it made her stomach growl.

“Hungry?” Na’viir asked, a small smile on her face.

Rylie nodded, looking up at Na’viir. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good, let’s get you fed then,” Na’viir responded.

The pair walked into the building and Rylie immediately noticed how warm it was compared to the outside. The smell of food was overwhelming, but in a good way. People were crowded inside — some sitting at tables already eating, while others were standing in line to get their food. Na’viir led Rylie towards the front of the line and said something to the person serving the food, who nodded and then handed Na’viir a plate and cup. The people in the line eyed Rylie as the two walked past them, whispering to each other.

Na’viir ignored them and led Rylie to an empty table in the corner of the room. She handed Rylie the plate and cup before going back to the front to get her own. Rylie sat down, setting her sketchbook beside her, and looked at what she had on her plate. On it was some cooked meat, some vegetables she didn’t recognize, what looked like rice, and a small piece of bread. It smelled good — like a home cooked meal. For a military camp, this was not what she was expecting.

Rylie then turned to look at what was in the cup. A brownish liquid. Rylie smelled the drink — hit with that smell of coffee she knew all too well. Guess I won’t be drinking that, she thought, setting the cup back down on the table. It had always been a personal dislike of hers. Coffee, and caffeine in general, were something she tried to stay away from, because it seemed to be a little… addictive.

Na’viir came back and sat across from Rylie with a plate and drink the same as hers. “Eat up,” she said, before starting her own meal.

Rylie was a bit hesitant, but she didn’t waste any time digging into her food, taking a bite of the meat first. It tasted kinda like chicken and pork mixed, with a few spices Rylie had never had before, but it was delicious.

A few minutes later, Rylie was nearly done with her food. She was startled by a voice yelling through the mess hall.

“Alright everyone, listen up!”

Rylie jumped in her seat and looked towards the voice. It was Killian, standing on a table to get everyone’s attention.

“Time for training! Meet up with your company and find your marshals for today’s training. Hurry up now! We don’t have time to waste!”

With that, everyone in the mess hall quickly finished up and started to leave the building. They left their plates and cups scattered on the tables. The people who had eaten outside rushed in, put their dishes on the nearest table, and rushed back out. Within minutes, Rylie and Na’viir and a few others were the only ones left in the building. Killian looked around the room, spotted Rylie, and hopped off the table, walking towards her.

“Ah, so there’s the human whose caused such a stir in my camp,” Killian said, a smirk on his face. “Things are already spreading about you. Like how you could speak Va’Lerian.”

Rylie felt annoyed. I’m not speaking Va’Lerian. I’m speaking English for fuck’s sake, Rylie thought.

“I trust that you’re settling in okay?” Killian asked.

Rylie nodded.

“Good, good,” Killian responded, turning to Na’viir. “How’s her leg?”

“Well, it was a bad break. Bone sticking out of the skin. But she should be okay now. Just need to make sure she doesn’t put too much strain on it,” Na’viir answered. “But she should be okay to walk on it a little.”

Killian nodded. “Alright. Well human, you’re going to be here for a while. I’ll get some of my soldiers to set up a tent for you. In the meantime, you can explore the valley. Just don’t leave the valley. I’d hate for you to get lost or killed.”

Rylie nodded again. Killian then turned and left the mess hall, leaving Rylie and Na’viir alone. Around them, people were already starting to clean the mess hall. Na’viir finished her meal and grabbed Rylie’s dishes for her.

“You didn’t drink your drink,” Na’viir pointed out.

“I don’t drink coffee,” Rylie responded. Na’viir gave her a look before walking off to put the dishes away.

Rylie stood up, grabbing her sketchbook, and made her way out of the mess hall. It was a bit awkward to walk with a splint on her entire leg, but she managed. The camp was mostly empty now. Rylie just walked around for a bit, exploring the camp. There wasn’t much to see. Just a bunch of tents and buildings.

Rylie spotted a big rock near the edge of the camp and decided to go sit on it. It was a bit hard to get up, especially with the splint, but Rylie made it to the top. From there, she could clearly see the training grounds. Groups of maybe 50 or so people were going through what looked like drills, led by a single person. One group was close enough to Rylie, she could hear what the person was saying.

“Alright, let’s try that again! I want to see more energy and aggression!” the person yelled. The soldiers in front of them shuffled and then started over. They were practicing a march, going from one end of the field to the other and back. It reminded Rylie of the civil war movie Glory she watched a few weeks ago.

“For glory, for the land! March as one, take your stand!” the person yelled. The soldiers responded with a different chant: “Steel and magic, fire and might! We march into the fight!”

After observing the soldiers training in the field, Rylie started sketching in her sketchbook, trying to draw the scene in front of her.

Rylie settled into the camp over the next few days, finding a routine for herself. By the second night of staying there, a small tent had been set up for her. It was big enough for her to stand and move around in, a cot, and a small table for her to put her stuff on. The big rock she had found on the first day quickly became her spot, and she would go there to sketch and watch the soldiers train — or fall asleep. The sun hit that rock perfectly and kept it warm and made it relaxing to sit there. That combined with the chanting of the soldiers practicing in the field, always made Rylie feel a little sleepy. Rylie had fallen asleep on more than one occasion, waking up when the soldiers were moving past the rock to get their lunch. Rylie was a light sleeper, so the sound of anything within a 20-foot radius would wake her up.

The first time she fell asleep, she had been startled awake by someone shaking her shoulders. It was a woman, another healer like Na’viir, who and come to check on her. The soldiers had seen Rylie on the rock over the last few days and had become worried when they saw Rylie lying on the rock unmoving for a few hours.

One afternoon, while Rylie was sitting on her rock sketching, she felt like she was being watched. She dismissed it at first, but after a few minutes, the feeling persisted. Rylie looked around, trying to spot whoever was watching her. The soldiers were going about their training, not paying attention to her. Rylie kept looking around, her eyes eventually drifting towards the valley walls. The forest was dense and thick, but Rylie could faintly make out a few figures in the shadows, along with glowing purple specks that she assumed were eyes.

Rylie couldn’t bring herself to look away, almost like she was in a trance of some sort. The figures didn’t move, and Rylie didn’t either. A soldier noticed Rylie staring off into the distance and turned to look at what she was looking at. He saw the figures and glowing eyes and froze. The person who was leading the soldiers in their march — which Rylie learned were called Marshals — saw the soldier stop moving and walked over to him.

“What is it Corporal? Why are you stopping the march?” the Marshal asked in an aggravated tone.

The Corporal pointed towards the forest. The Marshal followed his finger, spotting the same figures and glowing eyes in the forest. He immediately cursed under his breath.

“Damned dark magic users,” the Marshal said. “Get the Captain! Now! Grab your weapons! This is not a drill! Dark magic users in the forest!”

The soldiers all around the training field stopped what they were doing and pulled out their weapons — crossbows, bows, swords, spears.

The Corporal shook his head and ran off the get Killian. The shouting snapped Rylie out of her trance. She looked and saw the soldiers getting their weapons ready. When she looked back into the forest, the figures were gone.

A few minutes later, Killian ran onto the training grounds. “What in the abyss is going on!?”

“Dark magic users, Captain! In the forest! We-” The Marshal started but was interrupted by a volley of arrows being fired from the forest towards the training ground. Everyone ducked, holding up their shields. Rylie scramble off the rock and used it as cover as the arrows rained down.

“Damn it! They’ve found the camp! Soldiers, defend the perimeter! Drive them off and evacuate!” Killian shouted. The soldiers stood, the ones with crossbows and bows returning fire into the forest while the ones with melee weapons rushed towards the forest. Half the soldiers rushed back to the camp, tearing down tents, hooking wagons to horses, loading supplies into the wagons.

Rylie stayed behind the rock, unsure what to do. A soldier rushed towards her, but an arrow hit him in the face, killing him instantly. Blood spurted into the air as he fell to the ground. Rylie gasped and looked away, fear welling up inside her.

Killian, noticing Rylie still behind the rock, rushed towards her, deflecting arrows as he moved. He grabbed Rylie and pulled her up. “Stay with me,” Killian said, gripping Rylie’s arm. “We need to get you to safety.”

Rylie didn’t respond; she just numbly followed Killian as he pulled her along. KIllian led Rylie towards the wagons being loaded with supplies. “Stay in the wagon,” Killian said, lifting Rylie into a mostly filled wagon. After he was sure Rylie was safe, he turned, spread his wings, and flew towards the forest, pulling out a sword as he did.

The battle continued on. Soldiers were dropping — dead and injured — left and right. Blood was everywhere. Rylie managed to get a glimpse of the attackers. They were all different — varying appearances with wings, tails, horns, and other features like everyone else Rylie hadmet so far. But they all shared the same features — glowing purple eyes and black veins running up their arms. The attackers didn’t seem to have tactics or fighting formations — they were just running in and attacking without thinking.

Rylie felt sick. This was something straight out of a movie. Dead bodies, blood, screams, and metal clashing. Sights, smells, and sounds that Rylie didn’t think she would ever see or hear. She couldn’t help but cover her ears and close her eyes, trying to block out the world around her.

“Move out! Now! The wagons are ready!” Killian’s voice echoed through the remains through the camp. THe remaining soldiers quickly rushed to the wagons, running alongside them as the horses started pulling them away from the camp, moving at a fast pace.

The attackers didn’t follow. Rylie caught a glimpse of them as they all just stood still amongst the carnage, errily watching the survivors leave with blank expressions.