Beneath A Thousand Skies

Recently I’ve discovered that I really love stories that deal with the losing side of a war/battle, whether that is while they are happening or dealing with the aftermath, and this story has definitely scratched that itch in the best way. Fletcher largely keeps the camera lens close on a tiny part of this fight, with the occasional glimpse of the wider conflict, but always bringing it back down to those caught in the here and now. To the ones bleeding, and fleeing, and fighting against the odds. It adds a weight to the story, an emotional thread that draws us in, because these aren’t nameless, faceless people or Wardogs.

I am a little torn on what we do and don’t know about the Wardogs in this short story. On the one hand, part of me really wants a clearer description of what they look like; and yet at the same time the peeks we get are satisfying and build up to a terrifying image. I think part of the reason the limited description works here, is because we get such a good insight into the nature of the Wardogs and their purpose – from the one determined to kill as many as possible from their bed  to the loyalty of a dying one following their PackMaster into a fight that cannot be won. The character voice of our POV is another reason – we know them – for a short time, yes, but in a time of heightened emotion and introspection, where their strength and weakness and sheer loyalty are laid out for the world to see. The proof of how effective that connection is, was with the impact of that last line, which hit hard.

The worldbuilding has the same narrow focus as the rest of the story, but what Fletcher does give us – between the Wardogs, obsidian golems and sorcerers – is more than enough for the confines of this story, while also giving us the feel of a wider world beyond the boundaries of what we get to see here. I also must give a nod to the magic that is mentioned, mainly because it comes with a cost – which is something I love to see with magic.

There is a deliberate simplicity to much of the prose, which reflects the blunt, straightforward nature of The Darkest Shade of Grey, and that choice only serves to heighten the brutality of what is happening. It also means that the moments, where the description swells have even more impact. There are ebbs and swells in this story, but with an overall feeling of a high tide that can’t be denied.

Overall, ‘The Last Wardog’ was a brutal gut punch of a short story, with far more emotional impact than it has any right to have for a tale wrapped in war and violence and death. Fletcher has always been an author whose writing has gripped me and yanked me right into the heart of the story, and that is very much the case here. I am also intrigued by the worldbuilding which was self-contained enough to create a fleshed out short story, but more than enough to leave me wanting more, and I really hope to see more with this world and especially the Wardogs.