by Jon Bender
Reaching the front line he had a perfect view of the enemy forces, reminding himself that he stood amongst thousands so as not to be overwhelmed by their sheer number. The sounds of their horns reached his ears and the army before him began to move forward as one. When the distance had been closed, the horns sounded again and the Southern army charged forward, all screaming a battle cry that vibrated within Jaxom’s chest. With the enemy soldiers less than thirty feet away, Jaxom raised his hand and let the blight flow forth in a swirling mass of black and grey. The tendrils made contact with six of the oncoming soldiers wrapping around their chests and limbs. Those affected dropped to the ground in agony as the blight wormed its way past the armor to the flesh beneath. The downed soldiers were not dead, but Jaxom redirected the flow of magic to ensnare those who were stepping on the backs of their comrades. More were caught and fell to suffer the fate of those they had just helped stomp to death.
The two lines finally met after what seemed to Jaxom an eternity, the advancing force slamming into the defenders with such a violent impact that Jaxom and those around him were forced back. He was barely able to survive the first contact, swinging his sword only to deflect incoming blades. His bone armor taking many blows, but holding as men on both sides who were less skilled or less fortunate, fell away screaming from grievous wounds. After a few seconds of the heavy press, the defenders regained their footing and the line steadied, the Southerner’s momentum stopped dead. Jaxom stood shoulder to shoulder with those near him unable to fully use his sword from fear of hitting his allies. He had been in many fights but none like this, and wished he had taken the time to train in this type of combat. Running his sword through his latest opponent’s stomach, the man was instantly replaced by another who stepped over the body to engage Jaxom. Parrying the first downward stroke, Jaxom quickly reacted to block the attack of a spear aimed at his ribs. The first man taking advantage of the distraction to strike again with a thrust at Jaxom’s chest. Again he stopped the attack, but realized that he could only hold the two back for so long. The thought was confirmed as the spear snuck through to jab into the bone protecting his leg, waves of pain coursing through him as the tip penetrated.
Not wanting to take another hit, he took a half step back to find some breathing room, only to run into the defender behind who grabbed onto the collar of his armor to steady Jaxom. Those to his left and right felt his short retreat and shifted slightly to fill the gap, buying Jaxom the time he needed to regroup. Pointing his sword directly at the mass of enemy soldiers he released three of the contained fireballs in slightly different direction killing several men and burning more around them. With even more room created by their instant death and the confusion in their ranks it caused, Jaxom cast the blight again with far more affect. The short distance allowed him to spread the tendrils out in a wider span, latching on to almost a dozen men who screamed as his magic found them. The Southern men watched as the faces of those afflicted began to fall away in a gruesome display, all taking an involuntary step back and giving the defenders a short reprieve.
It was then that Jaxom saw three fireballs arcing through the dark sky accompanied by two very large ice spears headed straight for him. In the instant he readied to defend himself, three more balls of fire roared overhead from behind, colliding with two of the enemy fire mages casts. The resulting collision caused two large explosions in the air while the third connected with an ice spear destroying it. The remaining fire ball came down directly on top of him meeting the enchanted sword to be absorbed within the steel. Not knowing how he would stop the frozen spear, it shattered on its own before he had a chance to formulate a plan. Shards from the spear rained down among the defenders impaling many with smaller frozen missiles. His bone armor took many hits holding against the onslaught of ice, but he could feel that one of the razors had gotten by his upraised sword to tear a shallow cut on his cheek. To his surprise, a cheer went up around him from the defenders at the foiled attack, which could have been far more devastating. Realizing that his casting had called attention to this part of the fight, Jaxom stepped back through the press allowing the man behind him to take his place.
Reaching the back of the line, he saw the risen fire mage still casting from horseback, her magic only countering the attacks of other mages. He gave a quick thought to having her change tactics and strike at the enemy soldiers, but decided against it seeing that the defenders where doing well on their own. If she was to divert some of her casts to land amongst the Southerners, it may allow an opening for the mages on the other side to do the same. Jaxom needed to know where he could do the most good now, but could not see the whole of the battle from where he was. Reaching out he looked through the eyes of the closest durgen, the sudden switch of sight from the ground to one of flying above disorienting. Looking over his shoulder he could see Adriana holding the reins and directing the movements of the risen beast. Turning his attention to the fighting below revealed the two armies entangled against one another but with a clear line dividing them. Some areas had bulged inward at the attackers press, but they had not found a way to break through. Jaxom thought all was going as well as could be expected until the durgen’s eyes found the right flank. The men there were being pressed hard as massive golems waded amongst them and other magic tore through their ranks. Serin and the mages under his command on that side where responsible for the magical defense, but he could see no counter casts from them. Adriana had seen the potential catastrophe as well directing the flying mount to that area to help. As she closed the distance Jaxom could see that they were not the only ones to see what was happening. Celia and the men she commanded were heading to the right flank as well, going to the aid of the soon to be overrun men. Even with her added cavalry the flank would not hold under such heavy attack.
Pulling back to his own body he saw Darian further down the line with the risen ice mage beside him, both casting out over the heads of the defenders to great effect. Jaxom could see that the men there were doing well with many of the attackers dead, the rest hesitating to continue fighting. Running over to him the ice mage continued to throw magic into enemy forces or deflect other mage’s casts.
“Darian, we need to go to Serin. Something has gone wrong and the flank is about to collapse,” Jaxom yelled over the sound of the battle.
“What do you mean?” Darian asked looking down.
“The mages there are not casting, something has happened and we have to reinforce that side before they are overrun,” Jaxom replied.
Darian nodded and offered a hand down to Jaxom pulling him up behind into the saddle. Kicking his horse into motion, Darian moved them at a gallop to the right while Jaxom commanded the two risen mages to follow behind. He only hoped they would make it in time.
Chapter 27
Da’san could feel the cool stone beneath him, and the pain that ran throughout his entire body. A priest in blue robes like his own kneeled over him, a palm on Da’san’s chest felt warm and he could feel power flowing into him. It moved from his chest to his head and Da’san could feel the pain there begin to ease. Moving from his head to his right arm the process was repeated, strength returning to the limb as he clenched his fist.
“I have healed the worst of your wounds, but there are too many others in need to heal them all. If you are feeling well enough I could use your help in tending those,” The priest said.
With his senses returning he looked at the man recognizing him as one of the older priest from his temple. Da’san nodded to his brother who helped him to a sitting position and sending his head into a spin. When the walls finally stopped moving he took in his surroundings. He had been carried into a large bedroom along with near a dozen wounded soldiers and the fire mage whose shoulder had been pierced by ice. Outside the door he could still hear the distant sound of fighting as the attackers continued there press deeper into the palace. Bringing himself to his feet the other priest moved off to tend to another leaving him to decide who to help first. The mag
e was the obvious choice as his magic would be the largest asset. Placing his hand over the mage’s shoulder he prayed to the goddess asking for the power to close the wound.
Once healed, the mage thanked him before leaving. The sound of battle amplifying as he opened the door to return to the fight. The enemy was closer than Da’san had thought, and he knew that he had to hurry. Helping his brother to heal the soldiers, they were able to get all but two on their feet, those too grievously wounded to be saved. Once finished he nodded to the other priest and followed the soldiers out into the hall. Not knowing where Cribble was, he decided it would be best to follow the ten soldiers as they seemed to already have a destination. It was not long until they found what they were looking for in the form of a large group of the invaders. There were at least twenty of the men and women who now carried captured swords from fallen guards. Behind them was a dark priest who smiled wickedly at Da’san when their eyes met. At the sight of the Guard, the ragged invaders rushed forward to attack, but even with the newly acquired weapons and superior numbers they could not overwhelm the well trained men. Standing shoulder to shoulder the ten men of the Guard held the untrained group at bay.
Even as the two small forces clashed spilling blood on the floor, Da’san began to chant knowing that the dark priest would be doing the same. A dark area on the wall became deeper and a man shaped figure carrying a sword stepped from the space. Deciding to match the dark priest a doorway of light appeared in front of Da’san for a soldier of his own. The being he created glowed softly as it walked forward to take a place among the Guard. Swinging a glowing blade in an angled downward strike it dropped two of the attackers to the ground just as its dark counterpart lunged with its sword. Parrying the strike the two blades crashed against each other, light and dark struggling for dominance. The combatants went back and forth striking and countering with neither gaining the upper hand.
The guards were making fast work of the untrained rabble, pushing them back and allowing them to strike at the shadow soldier. Da’san said the final word of a prayer conjuring the glowing hands. Flying over the heads of those fighting the hands reached the dark priest who summoned black tentacles. The black appendages snapping one of the hands from the air, the other hand maneuvering past to grab up the priest lifting him into the air. Or’Keer’s servant tried to chant but Da’san ordered the floating hand to squeeze the man, not allowing it to release until his struggling had stopped. With the priest dead his conjurations faded leaving what was left of his allies to fight alone. Seeing the eventual outcome they turned and fled with the Guard on their heels pursuing them down the hall.
Da’san dismissed his own conjurations and turned down another hall, he needed to find Cribble or Jerup who would have a better understanding of the situation. The next thirty minutes were spent in moving through the halls occasionally helping the Guard and even a mage who was pressed by two shades. The mage was on his way to the throne room where he had been told the main fighting was now concentrated. Following the other man through many different halls they approached the large double doors of the main entrance to Ale’adaria’s seat of power.
From the hall Da’san could see the chaos of the fighting within as men, mages, priests, and shades fought and died at each other’s hands and magic. The mage he had followed looked at him for the first time, and Da’san realized that he could be no more than seventeen. With a nod the young man moved to the doorway his hands outstretched calling pieces of stone which had been broken in the fight. With four fist sized chunks floating before him they took off with the speed of an arrow leaving a bow, two finding their intended targets smashing into the chest and back of men throwing them to the ground. The other two missiles had been aimed at a shade who had sensed them and dodged with ease. Leaving the downed Guard it had been about to finish the shade ran at the earth mage its curved sword held wide ready to strike. The mage released several more of the broken pieces of stone at him, only to have the shade shift to the side. The dark clothed figure receiving a glancing blow on the shoulder that did not slow it.
Da’san had not been idle while the young mage was casting, taking the time to call out to Sarinsha asking for the power to help him. With his prayer finished he added the newly gained power to his voice, and the shout that followed threw the shade back to land on the ground. Not wasting any time, the mage unleashed a flurry of stones chunks at the dark figure sprawled on the ground. The projectiles pummeled the shade hitting it again and again as it tried to rise to be knocked down again until it moved no more.
With the dark servant down, Da’san looked about the throne room. Finding what he was looking for on the upraised platform on which the throne itself sat. Cribble was surrounded by men and mages yelling orders trying to gain some control of the situation and failing at the task. Next to him stood Jerup, swinging his sword at anything that came to close. Da’san took a breath and walked into the large room and the midst of the fighting. Working his way towards the Captain, stopping only when he had no choice but to fight then moving quickly on. Pushing past the outer circle of the Guard who were protecting a much smaller inner circle of mages and priests, Da’san finally made it to Cribble at its center.
“I thought you were dead,” Cribble said with a look of confusion. “Kavin, those damn priest have created another shadow creature,” he said pointing to a man shaped beast with two tentacles where each arm should have been. The mage he spoke to raised a hand sending a stream of fireballs at it, each connecting solidly and allowing the men on the ground to overwhelm and hack it apart.
“I nearly was,” Da’san said. “How are we faring?”
“Look for yourself,” Cribble said never taking his eyes from the fighting. Da’san did and could see from the higher position that they were not doing well. They were severely outnumbered, a situation that only seemed to be getting worse as more of the defenders fell to be replaced by the servants of Or’Keer. “The scum called in reinforcements once we lost the outer courtyard, and we have no more men to call on. Even if I could round up the Guard that is scattered through the palace, it still would not be enough.” He looked at Da’san with regret in his eyes. “I am sorry for getting you and your brothers involved in this my friend.”
Da’san could hear the resignation of defeat in the other man’s voice, and could tell that he thought there was no way to win. It said something about Cribble’s character, that even without hope he continued to fight knowing how it would end. Da’san did the only thing he could with the end so near, he prayed for salvation. Falling into a deep meditative state he called out to Sarinsha as he had done in the cells during the dark priest’s interrogation. “My lady can you hear me? We are in desperate need,” Da’san said within his own mind. There was only silence in response and he feared that his goddess would not answer.
Again you call me Da’san, you must think much of yourself to be worthy of a second such conversation, Sarinsha said in his mind.
“Forgive me my lady, the palace is about to be lost to Or’Keer, and once it falls the city will soon follow. If you do not aid us those who worship you will either serve him or die,” Da’san replied.
I am willing to help you, but what you ask for can only be done in service to a mage. Do you make this request on behalf of an oath breaker, that he would wish it was so? The goddess whispered.
Da’san did not know what she was talking about regarding oath breakers, did she consider the mages to have broken some oath to the gods? It did not matter, he knew that Jaxom would agree to whatever the goddess wanted to save the palace and the city. “Yes I make this request for the death mage Jaxom, if he was present he would agree to whatever the terms,” Da’san said. A small piece of him worrying at what he had just agreed to on his friend’s behalf, then quickly dismissing the thought with full confidence that Jaxom would agree.
A death mage, she said with an ironic laugh. Very well, there will be consequences for what happens next. Do you wish to know what they are before
you agree? The goddess asked.
Da’san looked about the throne room, seeing that the battle was at a point where it would soon turn against the defenders. Once that point was reached they would lose the fight quickly. He had no time to dissect what the consequences would be, and seeing men die even as he deliberated forced him to his decision. “I agree to whatever is required, Jaxom would agree, just please help us,” he said in desperation.
Then open yourself to me, you must give your very being over to me without hesitation. She said.
Da’san did as she instructed, offering all that he was to her. Baring his sole to his goddess, an immense amount of power began flowing into him. As if he stood under a waterfall, the weight of the water so great it almost crushed him beneath. This was like nothing he had ever felt before, it was like a blazing fire compared to the candle of what was granted in prayer. He felt himself lifting into the air to float several feet above the ground, losing control of his body as Sarinsha consumed him. A bright light erupted around him, spreading to form the shape of a woman nearly fifteen feet tall with him at the center of her chest. A long flowing dress and cascading hair fell to the floor in streams of light, all swaying as she surveyed the small figures below.
“Or’Keer!” she shouted in a beautiful voice that echoed through the room stopping combatants where they stood. Even the shades stopped moving to stare at the beauty and power of the goddess. “This city belongs to me and you shall not encroach on what is mine.”
With that something coursed through the enemy causing all to go ridged before turning towards Sarinsha, charging towards her as one. Raising her hand, the goddess began to strike them down half a dozen at a time with beams of light, each follower of Or’Keer hit erupting with light from their eyes and opened mouths as they screamed. Shadow creatures were summoned by the dark priests which lasted only seconds longer than the humans did, but even they disintegrated as beams shot forth from their bodies. When the last priest had fallen, the goddess lowered her hand to look at the defending men and mages that where left standing among the mass of bodies. Many of the Guard had fallen to their knees in reverence to the great being that many had worshipped since childhood. Without another word the light that had constructed her body began to dim, and Da’san felt his body lower to the raised platform. Coming to rest gently on his side, the feeling of exhaustion overwhelmed him. His last sight before unconsciousness took him for the second time that night, was of Cribble rushing to his side speaking words he could not hear.
