Anders stood stolidly atop a windswept fortress, like a roosting hawk. Bundled up in his fluffy and over-large winter uniform he resembled more a boy trying on his father’s clothes than the Imperially trained Sentinel that he actually was. His face blushed from the cold. A wispy, half-formed beard covered portions of his lower face. Two other Sentinels accompanied him on the fortress;. Ilse and Yergasi. A campfire crackled next to the trio, although it provided minimal warmth on such a cold night.

The three of them overlooked a vast expanse of tundra bathed in misty moonlight and sparsely populated with hardy vegetation. The land beyond them stretched out towards a looming mountain range half obscured by cloud. Upon the terrain’s surface were toothlike rocky outcroppings of black stone. The fortress itself was half-nestled inside a shallow cave, carved into the side of another mountain.

The three Sentinels’ posting at this miserable location was punitive in nature; they had been caught covertly drinking with their fellows. It was ostensibly an open secret that immature Sentinel-Recruits flouted the imperial decree, enforced by the Arch-Sentinel, that banned alcohol consumption. Only the three of them however had been unceremoniously caught in the act. Subsequently they had been reprimanded and forced to guard an isolated prison, on the Sentinelate’s frigid southern frontier. Any duties undertaken this far south were usually dull and unenviable tasks assigned only as punishments. The prison-fortress they were assigned to, held prisoners of war, captured during the many internecine conflicts between the Sentinelate and other nations.

Anders exhaled a warm cloud of white breath into the frigid night air.

“Blazing fuck, its cold” he said, his chapped lips stinging from the icy wind that assailed him

“Good for the lungs!” Yergasi replied with a gratingly joyful tone of voice as he paced the length of the battlements.

Anders studied Yergasi’s bloated face as he walked towards him, analysing him and trying to make sense of his odd personality. He was a lardy man with a thick moustache and mottled skin. Garbing him was the same greyish uniform that Anders wore, though his was fitted to cater to his not insubstantial size.

“Quiet, the both of you. We’ve a job to do lest you forget” Ilse chided them both from her perch at the edge of the battlements, her long legs dangling precariously over the side and her gaze fixed unwaveringly at the sky. She wore a brown fur cap that covered most of her head, although messy locks of black hair peeked out like furry snakes.

“You look a right tit wearing that dead marmot on your head. D’you know that Ilse?” Anders asked, with mock curiosity.

Yergasi bellowed out a hearty laugh at Anders’ comment, slapping him on the back with approval. Ilse stared straight ahead, unfazed by the provocation.

Feeling bored, Anders turned to look at Ilse. He saw her shiver and pull her uniform tighter around herself when a cold blast of air collided with her. Anders mockingly mimicked her discomfort for his own cruel amusement, smirking as he did so. The shivers he gleefully pantomimed earned him a scowl from Ilse.

“Arsehole” she muttered, before returning her gaze to the night sky.

He delighted in having successfully wound her up.

“Cheer up, be thankful you aren’t one of those poor sods that actually lives in that shit-hole” he offered, looking back at the prison compound scornfully.

“At least if that were the case then I’d be warm, and not stuck with you” she muttered.

“Be careful what you wish for, I reckon the lot of them are all probably inbred worm-shaggers. That’s what they say about those Burhophlian perverts, you know.” said Anders derisively.

“I’d sooner shag a worm than shag you Anders” Ilse snapped, her harsh tone indicating that she’d prefer he cease talking to her.

“Oh, you two! What a pair you are.” Yergasi guffawed, oblivious to the tension between the pair Ilse stood up purposefully from the edge of the battlements where she’d been sitting and went to warm her hands at the campfire’s edge. Around them the wind was an all encompassing whooshing howl. A sudden gust of wind blew a shower of snow into their campfire. The snow extinguished its flame, leaving behind only a smoking bundle of black sticks.

“Not again” Ilse groaned.

“Don’t worry I’ll sort it” Yergasi offered enthusiastically, rolling up his sleeves to reveal monstrously hairy arms

Yergasi’s squat little eyes rolled back into his head like a shark, only the whites of them now visible. He seemed farther away somehow, even though he hadn’t actually moved. His body swayed slightly. As he did this, the ruined campfire began to produce more smoke. A spark abruptly appeared amongst the sticks. Soon an orange plume of fire was rising up towards the sky once again.

“That’s better” Yergasi said brightly.

Amid a period of dull silence Anders allowed his mind to wander and imagine the warm bed waiting for him back at the fortress’ barracks. He pictured his mothers’ thick woollen blanket that she’d knitted to keep him warm during his time boarding at the Imperial Academy. Tatty and scratchy though the blanket was, he truly couldn’t bear to part with it. It was the only keepsake from his life before his father sent him away to the Imperial Academy to become a Sentinel. Anders imagined how it would feel to wrap himself in the blanket. It was so warm and cosy he could-

A merciless gust of icy wind seared across his exposed cheek like a smack in the face and put a stop to his daydreaming.

“Feeling chilly?” taunted Ilse noticing Anders’ discomfort.

He sighed, returning once more to the oppressively dull reality in which he existed.

Suddenly the sound of pounding hooves sounded far across the terrain just ahead. A dozen or so horse-mounted standard-bearers, galloped briskly towards Anders and his entourage. The flags they held aloft depicted a green Phoenix, with burning wings. Anders’ grimaced, feeling patriotic fervour bubbling in his chest. The flag they held belonged to his and every other Sentinels’ most hated enemy- The Burgophlian Khatunate. The horsemen were not welcome visitors. Anders furrowed his brow, confused by the Burgophlians’ sudden appearance. As far as he knew, they had no reason to be seen so far from their homeland, let alone on the frontiers of the Sentinelate. A similar look of bewilderment had formed on Yergasi and Ilse’s faces.

Anders rested his hand on his sword’s sheathe, preparing for any potential violence. The Burgophlian soldiers stopped just short of the fortress, their horses neighing and snuffling slightly.

“On behalf of her grace, the mighty Khatun, I beg audience with you.” a chainmail clad standard-bearer grunted up at Anders as he peered over the stone battlements

“You will address us properly if you wish to negotiate” snapped Yergasi.

Anders’ couldn’t prevent his lips from curving into a slight smile after Yergasi scolded the standard-bearer.

“It is our custom to speak plainly and to the point, but I will indulge your sensibilities if it would please your excellence” the standard-bearer replied derisively, rolling his narrowed eyes.

“What brings you so far south?” Ilse asked, forgoing any pleasantries whilst still sat at the fortress’ edge

“We would prefer a formal meeting. However I can divulge that we wish to negotiate for the possible release of one your prisoners.” The Burgophlian said, clearly becoming irritated

“We agree to your proposal of a formal negotiation. On one condition however; you must lay down your weapons. Fear not, for they will be returned to you upon the time of your departure” Yergasi explained

The mounted Burgophlians begrudgingly unsheathed their swords and tossed them aside, grumbling unhappily under their breath as they did so. Anders stifled a laugh at their collective stupidity, knowing intuitively what Yergasi had planned. He cut his laugh short, knowing that laughing too soon was inopportune because the standard-bearers were not fully caught in the trap just yet. Yergasi gave Anders a conspiratorial wink in response.

“Raise the portcullis.” Yergasi instructed Ilse

A creaking metallic groan resonated, as Ilse yanked on a rusty iron lever. Below where Anders stood, the portcullis had raised enough to allow the standard-bearers entry into the fortress’ inner courtyard. As the portcullis continued to ascend, making loud clunks as it did so, they trotted warily inside on their horses. The frosty grass crunched as they wandered forward. Anders could almost taste the tension; it was so abundantly palpable he wondered how the Burgophlians had failed to take notice.

“Get em’ now! It’s time!” Yergasi abruptly barked at his fellow Sentinels

The horsemen shimmied about in confusion in the courtyard. Anders and Ilse decisively leapt down from the battlements and landed with a thud before pouncing upon the disarmed soldiers. In their daze, the Burgophlians weren’t unable to put up much of a fight. They screamed in alarm as the pair of Sentinels pulled them from their horses. After a short scuffle they were subdued and tied up with rope.

“Good work folks.” Yergasi beamed, pleased that his plan was a success “Now… Escort our friends to the interrogation tower. I’ll deal with the horses. And make haste, my friends!”

Anders and Ilse began escorting the bound prisoners across the fortress’ inner courtyard and towards a looming grey tower. The newly imprisoned soldiers shouted and cursed in anger. Turning around as he walked, Anders exchanged a smile of camaraderie with Yergasi.

Anders and Ilse frogmarched their captives up the interrogation tower’s narrow winding staircase. Screams of varying intensity echoed out from behind doors on each floor that they passed. The Burgophlians, for the most part, trudged defeatedly up the stairs without putting up much resistance.

Anders delivered a swift kick to one of them when they tripped on a step.

“You know Ilse… Seeing as you’re suffering through something of a… Oh, how do I put this. A romantic drought-“ Anders began, with a wry smirk

“Don’t.” Ilse warned

“This one here” Anders nudged one of the captives “he’s not so bad looking, for a Burgophlian that is. He’s got a sort of… exotic quality. Perhaps you could pay him some conjugal visits whilst he’s confined. Yeah?”

“Shut up Anders. Look, we’re nearly there”

The ‘not bad looking” captive brightened somewhat, no longer hunched drearily but walking with a newfound spring in his step. An overexerted Anders glistened with strenuous sweat from his upward climb, as he at long last rounded the final corner of the endless staircase and arrived outside a bulky metal door.

Pushing the captives aside and striding forward, he then knocked on the door. Metallic clunking sounded before the door opened inwards to reveal the ghoulish prison-interrogator, smiling disconcertingly at the captives with thinly-veiled delight.

“I’ll take it from here, friends” the interrogator said

He rubbed his skeletal hands together with glee before ushering the chastened captives inside and slamming the door behind himself.

Traipsing back down the staircase, Anders and Ilse headed for their dormitory.

“So… the Arch-Sentinel is paying us a visit soon. That’s… big news” Anders said, making a rare attempt to be cordial towards Ilse

She didn’t reply. His further attempts at beguiling conversation fell flat as they descended the stairs. Ilse remained stubbornly silent.

Reaching the bottom and arriving in the fortress’ inner courtyard, Anders was surprised to hear Ilse begin speaking.

“There’s a quiet little place I know about” she began “it’s just behind the interrogation tower by a small stream. Bit cold and muddy I suppose, but I don’t mind if you don’t”

Anders raised his eyebrows and grinned, understanding her meaning at once. Clasping her hand, he eagerly walked off with her into the night.