by Jeff Gunzel
The spiritists made several more passes while dropping their mystical bombs. But even their power was not infinite, and the drain was beginning to take its toll. Over the next several minutes, fewer and fewer fell from the sky as their energy weakened. But the spiritual twisters already on the ground were wreaking havoc against the ghatins.
Ripping and tearing, the twisters swarmed around the outer walls. Any ghatin that got too close was instantly torn into dust. Of course, the effects were only temporary. Moments after a ghatin was vaporized, his body began to reassemble itself. But for the moment, the twisters were keeping them out of the city while buying a little more time.
Viola watched as the endless horde rumbled over the hills with no end to them in sight. The spirit funnels were pushing back the front line, but they couldn’t hold forever. Sooner or later their energy would fade. The lerwicks were the only ones that could kill the ghatins permanently, but they were so horribly outnumbered. Did she dare give the order? Did she dare demand her men to charge in and give up their lives, simply because that was their purpose?
From the back of her mount, Viola eyed Liam as he circled opposite her. Their eyes met, and he immediately began to shake his head. By now he had become too familiar with her reckless nature, and knew what measures she was willing to take when she felt backed into a corner.
Viola stood up on her saddle, balancing with her arms spread out wide. At peace with her choice, willing to go do this alone if necessary, she tipped off the back of her war bird.
Angry black birds cawed as her black funnel form came whirling down. Spinning right through the first line of ghatins, the birds pecked and tore at their flesh. Tiny wounds festered, spreading out across their bodies like a swarm of sparkling ants. Consumed in blackness almost instantly, they burst into flame before the black ash was carried away on the wind.
Her body materialized in an open spot carved out by the spirit funnels. Dropping to one knee, her flesh blades fired out to either side. There had been plans in place, meticulous strategies they had worked on throughout the week, but none had taken into consideration the sheer numbers they might face today. She wouldn’t sentence her lerwicks to death, but would lead by example instead.
Yes, they had been created for this purpose, but they were living beings as well. They were free, and as free beings who were rightfully a part of this world, they would be given the opportunity to choose for themselves. She would not choose for them.
The wave converged on her, a wave of white water rushing through a broken dam. With far too many enemies to pick out as individual targets, she broke into a furious, violent spin. Flesh blades struck home, searing right through their bodies as if they were made of paper. Other times they barely nicked an arm or thigh, causing only a mild cut. But the results were always the same.
Waves of black ash and blue flame popped and rolled from a single spot in the battlefield in a glorious light show of death. They died by the scores, but didn’t slow in the slightest. No mortal could keep up this pace, and through sheer numbers alone they would certainly overwhelm her eventually.
“Viola!” Liam screamed, looking down helplessly as the wave of white rolled over the top of her, appearing to consume her entire body. To think, he was going to watch his friend die and not be able to do anything to help. Never had he felt so helpless, so mortal, so completely insignificant. Unable to look away, he saw a pair of small hands rise up from the entanglement in a final, begging plea, then disappear beneath the sea of white.
Slamming her hands down, a deep vibration rumbled across the ground. Thunderous, the sheer force of it seemed to shake the planet. The ring of power raced away from her, visible only through the dust and debris it picked up while rolling along. All the ghatins around her were swept away, each one tumbling through the air while riding the invisible wave. They landed several yards away before tumbling even further.
Down on one knee, hands flush against the ground, Viola’s eyes seemed to shine with a burning light from within.
Nearby, a green fist erupted from the ground in a spray of rock and dirt. It was followed by another, then still another one. Snarling, clawing their way into existence, fluorescent green skeletons emerged from the ground like demons from the underworld. Completely fleshless, their shiny bones appeared to be polished and smooth. Empty eye sockets glowed with an eerie red light, and their all too human skulls had two bumps each that resembled tiny horns. Four in total, their fingertips housed razor-sharp claws fit to shred steel.
Unlike their typical undead counterparts, these skeletal warriors were fast and nimble. Wasting no time, they began to slash and claw their way through the ghatins. Each time one of them connected, the results were similar to that of any other lerwick. Ghatins fell with even the slightest touch from these creatures, their bodies blazing into ash.
Still, the ghatins kept coming with no end in sight. Hands still down on the ground, it was all Viola could do to maintain her concentration. From here she could control them, giving them silent orders to attack anything that moved. But it required all her mental energy, and in many ways it left her completely vulnerable.
A faint awareness in the back of her mind started to tingle. Someone or something was right next to her, and there was nothing she could do about it. Very well, she thought, eyes still closed as she maintained the link. She would control her undead until the killing blow fell. Honorable, it wasn’t the worst way to go. Each second was a gift, and she would make them pay for each moment they hesitated to kill her.
But the final blow never fell, and now she felt even more standing around her. Lerwicks leapt from the backs of ravens, their twisting forms spinning down from the sky to land at her side. Flesh blades ready, several surrounded Viola in a protective circle.
The others fanned out to take on defensive positions, just as they had practiced these last several days. They were frightened to be sure, but after watching their leader take out so many all by herself, they could no longer stand by and do nothing.
Viola flinched, her whole body twitching when one of her undead fell. Overwhelmed, the conjured creature flailed on its back against the swarming enemy before going still. As the red light illuminating its hollow eye sockets went out, its bones crumbled into grains of sand that sank back into the ground. She felt its pain, experienced its agony, but still managed to maintain control of the others.
Holding steady, the lerwicks braced as the next wave of white came crashing in. Inspired by their leader’s poise and determination, not one of them panicked or broke from formation. Viola had proved firsthand what their kind could do against these creatures, and it was time they proved it to themselves.
The front line of flesh blades flashed, searing open bellies and throats. Ash and flame rained over them as the dying ghatins’ forward momentum still carried along what was left of their bodies. Holding their position, a second wave of flesh blades extended directly over their shoulders, stretching out like long spears while striking the ghatins further away.
When the second, now slightly depleted wave rolled up against the lerwicks, the front line slashed away while making short work of them. Knowing they would be outnumbered, they had worked on this strategy all week long. Between the front and second lines working as a single unit, they managed to hold their own against these endless waves.
The spiritists watched the battle from above, awestruck by the sight as ghatins died by the scores. The end of their numbers was still nowhere to be seen, but the lerwicks’ front line was doing a marvelous job of holding them back. Sprays of sparkles, ash, and flame washed over the lerwicks with each new wave of attacks. It was stunning how recklessly the ghatins were throwing away their lives. But it was also clear that reaching the last of the humans was the only objective driving them, and the cost didn’t seem to matter at all.
“Thin out their lines. Force them to scatter!” Liam ordered, taking charge from the sky now that Viola was fighting on the ground. “If we loosen their formation,
they won’t be able to use their numbers as efficiently.”
The few spiritists who still had the energy swooped in and began dropping their spheres sporadically. Dropping them deeper into the ghatins’ rank, it caused a fair amount of chaos further away from the front lines. The new spirit funnels ripped and tore as they twisted along, drawing the ghatins’ attention while punching holes through their tightly packed ranks.
“That’s it!” Liam cheered, keeping the intermittent attacks organized from the sky. “Now, circle back around and—”
There came an eruption from down below. It shook the ground, sending tremors rumbling in all directions. Lerwicks went cartwheeling through the air, most dead before their bodies ever hit the ground. Viola went sprawling, her vision spotted from the blinding flash. Hands and legs numb, body tingling, she fought hard to regain her senses.
Horrified, Liam’s gaze drifted away from the carnage below to a nearby hill. Even from this distance he could see that damn creature’s all too familiar outline. Robes flowing in the breeze, Diovok stood like a giant. At his back were not only the red clerics, but the nezzerians stood with him as well. Among them was Narkural, the opposing figure looming like a titan.
“Protect the lerwicks!” Liam shouted, quickly changing direction. “I shall deal with him,” he growled under his breath.
Blinking, shaking her head, Viola struggled to push herself off the ground. Next to her lay a dead lerwick, her glossy eyes wide open. Nam, she thought, recognizing her face. They were soldiers, and had to be ready to give their lives to the cause if need be. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t learned their names, who they were and what they had endured to reach this point. Viola’s heart cried out, even though she knew there was no time for such trivial things.
An arm, a leg... All around her lay numerous bloody body parts. How many did that blast kill? Where had it come from?
Struggling to get to her feet, her knees wobbled beneath her own weight. Stumbling, she toppled over and fell back onto her side. I have to move. I can’t stay down or... She could feel the wall of white closing in around her. How were the others? Were there even any lerwicks left? If so, could they somehow get reorganized without her? Get up! They need me, I must...
Crawling along on her hands and knees, she mustered the strength to glance up. All she could see was a sea of white, their pink eyes piercing right into her soul. She was surrounded, and barely had the strength to stand.
Suddenly, a series of piercing screeches filled the air. It was the unmistakable cry of dying ghatins. Flame and ash erupted all around her, those pink eyes going wide with disbelief before bursting into dust.
Led by Jarlen, the second force of charging lerwicks ripped straight through the ghatins’ flank. Flesh blades flashing, they cut them down with reckless abandon. He had not abandoned them after all. True to his word, Jarlen was here with his full force, and making his presence known.
The surprise attack had been so precise, cut so deep into their ranks, that it practically divided the sea of ghatins in half. Still seeing double, a high-pitched tone squealing in one ear, Viola felt her body jerk up as a strong set of hands yanked her to her feet.
“Get up!” Jarlen shouted, trying to shake the cobwebs from her head. “You have to move.”
“My men,” she said weakly.
“Are dead!”
No...
“Move, or we will shall share their fate!” Throwing her arm up around his shoulder, Jarlen dashed through the quickly closing opening in the ghatins’ forces.
Chapter 23
“I believe they’ve suffered significant casualties,” Narkural said, peering through his looking glass at the battle off in the distance.
“But more importantly, their entire front line is in flux,” Diovok replied, admiring his work from this safe distance. Behind him, the red clerics stood in a curved line. Holding hands, each man shared his energy with the cleric standing next to him. The lead cleric had his hand on the back of Diovok’s shoulder, feeding the overflow directly into him.
Through their combined power, the damage from a simple fireball spell had been catastrophic. He had singlehandedly wiped out a large portion of the lerwicks’ forces.
“Look at them running around in circles like confused ants,” Narkural laughed, collapsing his looking glass back down with a snap. “Their ranks are shattered, the time to strike is now.” Wasting no more time, Narkural gave the signal and sent his nezzerians charging down the hill. There would never be a better time to finish off the lerwicks. Crushing those abominations would surely restore the balance.
Feeling the combined power of his clerics flowing through him, Diovok searched the battlefield. His first attack had wreaked havoc on their organized front, now it was time to cripple their forces completely. Allowing the power to churn and build within him like a volcano ready to blow, he finally laid eyes on what he was searching for. A large group of lerwicks had managed to regroup. Back to back, they had formed a tight circle and were somehow still fighting off waves of ghatins.
Diovok couldn’t help but be impressed by the sight. Even in small numbers, the lerwicks were a tough mismatch for the ghatins. But that was only true when they had enough numbers to form some kind of organized front. Another blast would cripple their numbers and disrupt them further, effectively ending this battle.
Drawing on the power, a tiny sphere of flame appeared between Diovok’s hands. Hovering, rolling in place, it crackled with liquid fire, ready to expand and burst on command. “This ends now.”
A massive impact from behind sent Diovok sprawling face first into the ground. Clerics and body parts went tumbling through the air. Scorched and mangled, their twisted bodies lay scattered about as the blackened grass around them steamed and smoldered.
Face down, still as death, Diovok lay in the grass for several seconds before finally beginning to stir. His body convulsing with wracking coughs, he managed to push back up to his feet. Wobbly, vision blurry, he kicked a steaming hand away from his foot and looked around in revulsion.
Dead, all of them. What was left of his clerics lay scattered about, torn and charred beyond recognition.
Inner instincts screaming, he summoned the strength to dive out of the way just before glistening steel passed over his head. Back on the ground with a sideways view, he saw the raven and its rider gliding away. Diovok cursed at the back of that flowing white hair. He knew exactly who had just wiped out his clerics.
I see you, mystic!
Struggling back to his feet again, he grunted a single word and snapped his fingers. A tiny orange spark appeared. Bobbing its way through the air, it danced and weaved like an angry firefly. Bouncing and twisting, it suddenly shot off like a streak of light.
Striking the raven’s underbelly, the war bird suddenly burst into a ball of roaring flame.
Leaping off the fiery mount as it went down, Liam hit the ground hard and rolled for what felt like a mile. Shaken, but uninjured for the most part, he struggled to his feet and began stalking back the other way.
“You traitorous dog,” he shouted at the giant. Reaching to his back, he ripped his staff from its sheath. Only the length of a short sword, it expanded to full length the moment he held it in front of him. “You would betray the only race that has ever accepted you?”
“Accepted me?” Diovok growled, his massive frame lumbering toward Liam. “Why, the humans would have had me crawling around like a worm for the rest of my days had I not taken control of my own destiny. They’ve never accepted me. Even after I killed King Milo and took his place, they still did not recognize my authority.”
“Respect and authority cannot be stolen, Diovok,” Liam snarled. Staff ready, he stopped ten feet in front of the giant. “They are earned, just like anything else in this world. The fact that I need to explain that to you just confirms how ignorant you are to this world. You blame the humans for your failings, when you should be blaming yourself. Make no mistake, Diovok, you don’t even dese
rve to share this world with us.”
“Oh, I have no intention of sharing anything,” Diovok hissed, his massive hands coming together with a thunderous boom.
A wave of unseen energy radiated outward, washing over Liam, the pressure threatening to crush him where he stood. Visible only as a silvery afterglow, the protective bubble surrounding the mystic bent and warped. Clutching his staff with all his might, Liam dropped to one knee. The eyes of the goat head staff flared, blazing a bright red as he pushed back against the shaman’s power. Resisting with all his might, it felt as if the world were caving in around him.
“We could have been allies,” Diovok grunted, the strain in his voice revealing just how much effort this was taking. Anyone else would have been crushed by now, but this little human had proven before just how resistant he was. “You are powerful indeed, practically a god among your race. Why waste it on saving those who are inferior to you, when you could hold a place at my side in the new world?”
Liam strained, his staff feeling like it might explode in his hands at any moment. “I would die before ever joining you,” he growled, his knee rising up off the ground as he summoned all the strength he could to push back.
“You believe your death at my hands will bring you some kind of honor?” Diovok said, his mask trembling with strain. He really had reached his limit, and couldn’t believe this human was still standing, let alone pushing back against him.
“It is not my death that will be remembered this day!” Liam roared, the eyes of his staff blazing like the sun. Suddenly, his own eyes flared with a brilliant blue light. Rising to his feet, he whirled his staff around his body. The invisible shield around him shattered, spraying solid shards of glass-like projectiles. Diovok groaned, stumbling back as the shards peppered his body from top to bottom.
