Genesis (Prophecy Rock Series, Book 1)

by T. Sae-Low

  Two days seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. Every possible preparation was made. Ballistae fully armed, swords sharpened, shields reinforced, horses fed. Not knowing if they were to return this day or not, soldiers clothed themselves in their finest gear. If they were to die on the battlefield, they would die with dignity. Honor. Duty. Kingdom. They reminded themselves of their oaths.

  Aric stared at himself in the mirror, his royal armor gleaming against the flickering candlelights in his tent. His silver armor with blue trim shimmered, polished to a shine without a hint of a scratch or dent. Only royal members were bestowed the honor of silver armor. The exclusivity of it made Aric’s feelings of privilege that much more intense. The remainder of the kingdom adorned themselves in the usual Vicedonian colors of blue and black. He caressed his shoulder and arm plates, feeling the smoothness of their surface with his fingertips. So clean, so nubile. His virgin armor had never seen battle. Not even during his practice sessions with Patros had he used this armor. He looked untouched, almost angelic. How he would look after the battle was no longer for him to decide. Aric was never one to fully commit to the Creator and the pantheon of gods that the rest of his countrymen swore to, but in this moment, he found himself kneeling, offering up a prayer.

  “To the great family of gods who watch over us. I pray that you strengthen my body, my mind, and my soul for the battle at hand. Give us victory over those who would see us vanquished from this world. Steady my heart and my resolve. By the Creator and His family, I pray these prayers.”

  He put on his helmet, three rows of jagged plumes jutted out from atop his crown, the center row bordered by two smaller ones, reminding him of dragon fins. He took one last look in the mirror, saw the boy who was leaving today and waiting for the man to come back. He exited the tent to meet up with his generals.

  Aric felt the night sky pulsating with dark intent this evening. Steropes and Arges were down by the lake’s edge, pointing deliberately in various directions. Aric slowly made his way over. He stood by silently, waiting for them to take notice. It took them a bit of time before they finally acknowledged his presence.

  Steropes bowed slightly. “My prince, your armor is… stunning. The mere sight of you will surely invigorate the troops this night.”

  Aric could no longer decipher the sincerity of Steropes’ words. Every syllable out of his mouth seemed tainted. Aric felt the condescending nature of his tone, but no longer cared. He had more pressing concerns.

  “Are all the preparations made, Arges?”

  “Yes, my lord. Ballistae have been modified and tested. They average a longer range by about twenty feet. We’ve positioned them on the bridges as planned. The enemy did not seem to take notice, as no boulders or arrows were fired. The soldiers have gathered in formation down by the southern pass. My regiment is interspersed at even intervals throughout the army. We had originally planned for the Krakens to take up the vanguard, but if they were to be hit hard, we would lose too many of them at once. Also, before I forget, Titan has requested the honor of accompanying you at the head of the charge.”

  The request brought a smile to Aric’s face. “Titan is a proud warrior, and I gladly accept. Where will the two of you be?”

  “Alongside you, my lord, where our places should be,” spoke Steropes. Aric stared at him for a bit, unsure how to react. Steropes was an intimidating figure. Exceptionally tall and lanky, his mouth had been wounded in previous battles, leaving two scars running down the sides of his lips. He had been nicknamed The Puppet by many in the high council, and how well it suited him. His reputation for backhanded deals and conspiring to further his own ambition was well known. He had never been found guilty of any crimes of treason, but just one meeting with him and Aric knew he could never truly trust this man. He was a boastful man; although his feats in battle were well-deserving, he never seemed to let anyone forget, either. He was the son of King Maximus’ long time rival King Kreed of Nys. After the Vicedonian Conquest that united all of its neighboring territories into one mighty empire, King Maximus requested Steropes as his ward, to ensure King Kreed never dared rebel against him. Perhaps his life as a hostage to the Agiads twisted his soul into the conniving person he is today. Aric stared at Steropes’ serpentine eyes, pointy beard, and the two scars running down the sides of his mouth. Aric knew Steropes would not come to his aid in battle, despite his vehement declarations of loyalty and servitude. Aric turned to Arges whom he believed to have more of a connection to, especially since they had survived the Dark Forest together.

  “I believe it is time, my generals.”

  Arges nodded, while Steropes snickered. They mounted their horses and rode directly towards the front of the army. A squire brought Aric his horse. He mounted and followed suit. Soldiers stared at him as he rode through the ranks. The gleam of his armor turned aflame by the orange glow of torches. Titan was already waiting for them at the front, eager as ever for battle. The four lined themselves up, and turned around to face their army.

  Steropes began. “On my command, the ballistae will begin their assault! We will begin our march up the hill to the enemy’s position. Their defensive line will be waiting for us, just like the last time. If General Arges is correct, our ballistae will have disrupted and damaged their catapults, leaving their defensive line without assistance. Our numbers should be able to push through their line now. We push hard and fast, my countrymen! Once we make it to the top, we destroy their entire army here and now. On this day we will be victorious! For Vicedonia! Honor! Duty! Kingdom!”

  The army roared loudly from Steropes’ words. Cheers rang out in various directions, swords and axes clanging loudly against shields. The boisterous crowd finally began to settle down to a quiet hush, waiting for their prince to speak next. Aric stared at them, every eye fixated back at him, waiting in anticipation to be galvanized by another rousing speech about loyalty and honor. Aric’s instinct told him to simply turn around and begin the charge. Vicedonian soldiers already understood their duty. There was no reason to shower them with sweet declarations, but then he noticed Arges eyeing the crowd. He thought about how Arges would do whatever he could to help his army to victory, even if that meant a stirring speech to fan the flames of their warrior spirits.

  Aric opened his mouth and the words came flowing out. “Soldiers of Vicedonia! Tonight is the night you have been waiting all your lives for. In this moment now, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Whether in victory or death, you will still find glory. You are part of the victory that will turn the tide of this war for Vicedonia forever. Your names would live on through the ages to come by the deeds you perform on this night. If you could be the one to slay General Yagar, your name will live on through eternity. Statues built, songs written and sung, children named after you.” He watched them carefully; they stared back attentively, hanging on to his every word. He felt the power he held over them in this moment, not because he was their prince, and they were forced to listen, but because they truly believed in what he was saying. He was beginning to understand now the power of Arges’ leadership. Soldiers battled harder not because it was their job, but because they believed fervently in their cause, and in their leaders. He unsheathed his sword, and lifted it high into the air. “For Vicedonia! Honor! Duty! Kingdom!”

  The crowd broke out in a deafening roar. The impact of their will and determination was as tangible as the sword in his hand. He could feel their excitement. Aric’s horse could feel it too, neighing anxiously. Aric turned towards Steropes and nodded. Finally, this is my time.

  Steropes signaled the archer to begin the bombardment. A fiery arrow soared into the night sky, falling into the lake and vanishing. The sounds of metal clanging against wood, and the vibrato of taught string filled the night with a cacophony of noise. The soundtrack to the evening’s activity energized the soldiers as they marched a little faster, a little stronger, and a little more determined. Soon, the battle cries began to sing out. Prayers for gods to give
strength and victory filled the air. Aric gripped his sword tightly.

  They could hear the explosions high above the hill as the ballistae found their targets. The attack was continuous, which meant the enemy was still unable to return fire. This bolstered their confidence as they made their approach against the enemy defensive line. The Renzai soldiers were ready and waiting for them. It was difficult to tell in the dark of night how many there were, but it seemed smaller than Steropes had remembered. Perhaps their casualty rate was more severe than he had anticipated.

  Steropes removed his double tipped spear from off his back, twirling it over his head with amazing agility. Arges unsheathed his twin falcatas, while Titan lifted his giant hammer into the air. The rest of the army braced for impact. Aric twisted his wrist back and forth, balancing the sword delicately in his hand. He focused on the first enemy soldier that caught his eye and swung at him. The armies collided; the sounds of steel, chaos, and pain filled the air. The Vicedonian army slowed to a crawl, but still managed to push forward. The Renzai armies did their best to stop the onslaught, but the Vicedonians were simply too much. The Renzai had sent up signal arrows requesting back up, but none had come. They looked back up the hill with utter confusion written across their faces.

  Arges sliced his way through the line, never stopping to reset but flowing from one enemy to the next. His twin falcatas were in perpetual motion, always finding their targets. Two enemy soldiers attempted to double-team him; they flanked him from the left and right with spears aimed at his horse. As they attacked, Arges caught one spear in each of his falcatas and twirled them, pulling the spears out of their hands. He lifted the spears into the air, and crossed his arms across his chest sending each spear into the two enemy soldiers.

  Steropes spun his double-ended spear in every direction, catching enemy soldiers one after another. They attempted to block his attacks, but only watched in horror as their blades shattered into pieces. The shock would only last a moment though, as Steropes used that opportunity to finish the deed. Aric found himself performing better than he imagined he would, sending his confidence soaring. All the practice with Patros had proven its worth as he sliced to his left and right, blocking and parrying attacks from both sides. He used his horse as a weapon too, remembering his lessons well. When the enemy soldiers got too close, he rose up and watched as the horse kicked its powerful legs forward, knocking them out cold. The Krakens earned their keep as they each eliminated two or three soldiers at a time. Steropes’ Fourth Unit was more numerous and also well trained, but still couldn’t compare. The Vicedonian army pushed forward, only stalling for a moment before regaining momentum.

  Half of the enemy defensive line had fallen. In their panic, some began to flee into the surrounding woods. To Vicedonians, cowards did not deserve a proper death, so the Vicedonians fired arrows into their backs. As they collapsed to the ground, Vicedonian cavalry trampled over their panicked bodies. Unworthy of dying by Vicedonian blades, the last image they saw before meeting their ends was that of dirty horse hooves.

  Only a few had begun to flee at first, but now the remainder of the defensive line had given up all hope and retreated into the woods. The Vicedonians killed as many as they could, but about a quarter of them still managed to escape. Without their weapons and so few in number, they posed no threat whatsoever. The brief victory resonated throughout the Vicedonian army sending up shouts of joy. The generals wasted no time as they raced up the hill to the main camp. They braced themselves for a more determined onslaught from their enemies this time. The ridge of the hill diminished slowly, and they could make out a row of enemy watchtowers rising up before them. They raised their shields and stooped low, waiting for the volley of arrows to come. They found themselves riding right past the towers and into the heart of the Renzai camp. The Vicedonian army poured in, row after row of soldiers and cavalry bewildered at what they saw.

  Aric turned to his generals. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?” he asked, breathing heavily.

  “I… I don’t know, my lord.” Arges’ face was just as stunned. Steropes searched desperately around him, looking for any semblance of understanding. He couldn’t make sense of it either. As the Vicedonian army stood in the Renzai base camp, they found themselves alone. The watchtowers were empty. The enemy was gone.

  Chapter 30