The Shadow of All Worlds

by Shane Porteous

  Chapter 33

  Another foul thing died at the end of Yadi’s blade, he didn’t know the exact number he had killed only that it was many. Lieutenants, grunts and monsters had all fallen to him but not a single Ulnath. Yadi had tried cutting a bloody path to them but they remained in the rear lines, allowing a sea of monsters to protect them. But Yadi wouldn’t drown, he would cross this ocean and make the Ulnath regret ever attacking his people. Because of his tenacity he was right in the thick of the fighting, the very center of the battlefield. There was little place for grand strategy for him it was more about surviving each second. He knew his troops had been fighting well, many Red Army soldiers had died on this day but in doing so many Ebulon lives had been lost.

  He had rightfully been concerned when the dragons appeared, fearing his army would forget all discipline and flee for their lives. Thanks largely to the defense of the Heroes United this wasn’t the case. But through the smell of blood and death he could sense the uneasiness in the air, his command was far from unshakeable. This concern didn’t distract him, rather he used it to fuel himself onwards cutting down every Red Army soldier within reach of his blade. Some screamed and some didn’t, but every one of them he cut died bloodily, no one no matter how bias could deny the ferocity and skill the king was fighting with.

  A wave from the enemy ocean surged towards him and as always through this battle he stood unwavering against it. He struck an enemy spear hard enough that the shaft broke within the twisted thing’s hand before he ended its life by piercing his sword straight through its eyes. He killed another by decapitation, a mighty bloody blow. Before the headless body had even fallen he took two more lives, both females. He fought on never flinching or backing down, he fought with the same tenacity as the Ebulon soldiers on both sides of him.

  Suddenly a sound broke through the clashing of steel and screams, a heavy crashing sound that caused the earth to shake. A dragon, one born in this world had fallen on the edge of the battlefield, its enormous weight striking the earth like a collapsing mountain. Its scales once a fine blue now were rotted as wisps of eerie green smoke rose from it. Yadi had only glanced towards it for a single second, his subconscious needing to know the source of the quake.

  In that moment his instincts failed him, that spilt second of distraction cost him dearly. A Red Army lieutenant who hadn’t been bothered by the sound struck him deep with her spear. Her precision was perfect burying the spearhead deep under his arm where his armor couldn’t protect him. A sharp breath as if he was truly drowning escaped his lips, the burning sensation of the strike enflaming his entire body. Instantly he knew this was no flesh wound as strength was already fleeing his legs. He looked at the lieutenant, his eyes distant and hollowing as she smirked at the sight of his blood. Her amusement didn’t last long, she too had allowed herself to be distracted and an Ebulon axe, wielded by Keska ended the enemy’s life. He could hear her bellowing in anger and all the other sounds of the battlefield, but they now sounded very distant, as if he was hearing the sounds from underwater. The enemy ocean indeed was starting to drown him.

  He watched as a whole horde of the Red Army saw his sword fall from his hands and raced towards him on mass. They appeared like predators smelling his blood and were desperate for a meal. Led by Keska, his royal guard rushed forward, forming a wall of steel and flesh.

  “Protect the king!” Keska commanded, he could tell by the power of her expression that she had screamed this, although it barely sounded like a whisper in his ear. His body was trying to breathe quickly but each breath was strained and weak. The blood now flowing down his armor seeped through the lines between the plates. The blood was colder than anything he had ever felt, frostier than ice. He fell to his knees, an action he hadn’t ordered his body to do. He had been on many battlefields, enough to have received his fair amount of injuries. Some wounds had been bad, but none felt this cold.

  His vision changed as well, although he found it difficult to describe. Somehow he was able to notices things that he hadn’t mere moments ago. Slowly his eyes wandered the battlefield, like insects on broken legs. He could see Captain Oeger standing side by side the troops in her unit doing their best to stand against the relentless hordes of the enemy. His eyes crawled on and were drawn to the site of Captain Torrin and Lieutenant Ulka, they were standing back to back surrounded by enemies on all sides. It seemed that Ulka had been separated from his own unit and was now fighting just to survive. They fought well and hard, protecting one another from all of the attacks, but clearly they were stuck in a desperate place. He could see just how many dead Ebulon troops lay around them, but there were even more dead Red Army soldiers that formed a second layer of corpses. Captain Torrin hadn’t let him down, the troops of his unit had fought like demons, but had paid the price with most of their lives. Further across the field he saw the refugees, most didn’t possess the skills of the Ebulon trained soldiers but they fought as savagely as the enemy beasts. His eyes crawled on and easily could pick out Commander Alatearame, one of greatest of his officers and soldiers. Her helmet had been knocked off, her face drenched in her own blood, yet she fought on with an even greater tenacity than he had fought with. She was amazing, with one hand she killed enemies and with the other she prevented troops from fleeing, pushing them back into the battlefield. But for all of her efforts she was only one person, clearly news of the king’s injury had spread through the units. Some stood their ground, some paid the blood price while others were turning and fleeing.

  “Hold the Line! Hold the Line!” more than one of his captains was giving this command, though not enough soldiers were following it. They all sounded so faint in his ear like a very distant echo, he couldn’t even hear himself breathing anymore, let alone feel it. His eyes returned to where they had began, he watched helplessly as the wall of protection had been broken through. The troops before him had fought bravely, but they were too few in number to stop the rampage of the Red Army. They fell in puddles of their own blood, like mountain cliffs falling into the sea after a quake. Keska who had been the first to protect him was the last to die, she was impaled by seven spears, finished off by 4 axes. He didn’t even have the strength left to raise his arms, let alone reclaim his sword. It seemed that the enemy ocean would drown him after all.

  His eyes made one last crawl across the snarling and blood-mad faces of the oncoming enemies. Each wanted his head as a trophy and nothing was standing in their path. As many Ebulon soldiers were now fleeing the battlefield, Yadi knew the day was lost, he had failed to keep his kingdom safe. His gaze became filled with the sight of an enemy grunt, a crooked sword held firm in its hand. It would all be over in a single bloody moment.

  As the sword came for him his vision caught a glimpse of something, a glint of steel that entered the edge of his vision. The attacking grunt yelped like a dog as this piece of steel sank deeply into its chest. Yadi couldn’t be sure what was happening, he had never died before but he could feel a strong arm reach underneath his arms and wrap itself around his torso. Someone pulled him up off the ground in a single swift motion, showing great strength. Through his fingertips he felt the mane of a horse as his vision was beginning to blur. Glancing up he could see a thick blonde beard and eyes filled with blue. “Fight! Dam it! Fight!” Strangely this voice didn’t sound so distant and Yadi knew that Captain Juruz had saved him.

  While cradling the king in one arm Juruz slew five enemies in a single moment, his sword like a plague across the line of foes. As Juruz forced his horse into a gallop he took any enemy life foolish enough to be in the range of his sword.

  “I said stand and fight!” he bellowed kicking several soldiers in the back as he passed them. “Any Ebulon man or woman who tries to flee I shall break your legs, cut open your belly and feed you to the bloody grunts!” He rode on filling the battlefield with other such warnings, cutting down many enemies along the way. Yadi’s hearing became distant once more but he could see that Juruz’s threat
s were having a great effect, many soldiers stopped fleeing for their lives and returned to the battlefield with renewed vigor. Many of them had never lost their respect or faith in the command of Juruz and these actions were proving it. His appearance at the field was more than enough to remind the fleeing soldiers of what they were fighting for and the vows they had each taken to keep Ebulon safe. If she hadn’t been stuck in one place Alatearame could’ve accomplished the same thing.

  But all Yadi could think about was that the battle wasn’t over, even if he died there was a chance his people would live on. That was something he was grateful to Juruz for, more than even saving his life. He hadn’t noticed it before but his eyelids were very heavy, they felt more like stone than skin. With each passing moment they were harder to keep lifted, his body empty of strength. This didn’t feel like he was slipping into slumber either, this was something else, something much darker and colder. He doubted that when his eyes closed dreams would be waiting for him. All he could hear now was the galloping of Juruz’s horse, oddly no smells filled his nostrils. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed were the approaching medical tents but he couldn’t be sure if they were real or simply an illusion of his mind.