Wartune

by Ayesha Huggins and Matthew Ariss

  * * *

  As soon as he passed through the tear, Ibalize sensed the trail his brother had left. He was not burdened by an army, and so traveled with what mortals would consider suicidal haste. As he went, he saw the destruction that Yaros’ soldiers had left and found himself feeling amused. Even his holier-than-the-goddess brother could not control his army completely.

  Ibalize, too, sensed the shard, and sensed his brother near it. He wondered if this is where the danger to his brother lay.

  He soon saw the smoke of a war camp rising into the air, and knew that he had arrived. It was almost too late before he realized it was not his brother's army who controlled the fires. He felt his rage rising, but calmed himself, realizing that even he could not defeat this army in this place. Instead, he reached out his senses to see if his brother had left him any clues. Ibalize knew he could always count on his brother to have a back way out. In just a few moments he sensed it, a small gateway that traveled through the edifice, deep into its bowels. There was some danger in entering, he would likely have to defend himself on the other side, but he trusted his brother's instincts. He passed through.

  “What are you doing here?” Alkorn asked.

  “I expect I am here for the same reason as yourself.” Yaros gestured to the blue light. “This.”

  “Do you know how many of my soldiers have died outside?” Alkorn continued, cold and calm.

  “Unfortunate, that…but I don’t recall forcing you to come. Nor to follow my army. Nor to attack us. Also, I believe you army fared much better than my own.”

  Alkorn looked sideways at his mages and warriors. They had changed so much during their time here. Physically their bodies how morphed, becoming stronger, and darker. Mentally as well. Where once they used to laugh at camp, now they thought only of battle.

  “Perhaps death was a blessing.” He said finally. “This place has poisoned us.”

  Yaros nodded. “Then go home, and leave this to me.”

  “What is it?” Alkorn asked.

  “A weapon.” Yaros said, and then he attacked.

  Ibalize exited the portal and watched Yaros crush the throats of two soldiers, then barrel over another who shined. He went for the mages, but they released their spells, engulfing the charging god in flame and ice. Ibalize watched as Yaros flinched with pain, then saw him fall to the ground. Ibalize hid in the darkness. Yaros tried to rise, but the mages cast spells to pin him down.

  “What kind of weapon?!” Ibalize heard one of the humans scream. His brother grimaced with pain.

  “A weapon to crush worms like you.”

  The glowing man struck Yaros, then turned towards the blue light.

  “If it is a weapon, then I will use it.” He thrust his hand inwards, grimacing through his fury. The light seemed to collapse upon itself, folding inwards towards his hand and growing in intensity. The man’s face turned from a grimace to a strange mask of horror and pleasure.

  The light began to slow and a shape began to form. Jagged, twice the length of the man’s had.

  The light finally disappeared with a burst of energy, and all that was left was a shard. The energy hit Ibalize hard, bringing him from the shadows. Yaros saw Ibalize and relief flooded his face, but when the darkness returned and Ibalize did not move, his relief turned to horror. He struggled to rise, struggled to call out to his brother, but the mages would not let him.

  The shining man, who had fallen to his knees, now got up and walked towards Yaros.

  “Let us see what this weapon can do.” He said, then thrust it into Yaros’ chest.

  Yaros’ screamed, and Ibalize watched as energy rose up through the shard into the shining man. The light grew brighter and brighter, until Yaros collapsed.

  Ibalize knew how he would win his victory. With a final look towards his brother he passed through the portal.

  Yannick, Muda

  Muda slashed down, through the cow-head's shoulder and deep into its chest, then quickly anchored his foot against the creature's stomach and pulled the weapon out. As he pulled he pivoted his foot, and twisted the sword 180 degrees, thrusting it through another enemy’s heart.

  The soldiers around him quickly finished off the surrounding enemies, then regrouped into a wedge and charged into the next batch. They pushed the group of cow-heads apart, separating them from the protection of their allies. A soldier to Muda's right was struck in the head by a projectile, and fell to the ground. The soldiers moved as one unit to surround their fallen ally, then one shot a fire arrow straight up into the air. Within seconds a soft light surrounded the injured soldier, healing from a mage half on the other side of the battle. He stood up, and quickly rejoined the fight.

  After a short time Muda withdrew a small stone from his pocket. He spoke and the item amplified his voice.

  "Hold." He said. Suddenly the ravages of war stilled, and the cow-heads simply were no more.

  "Report." He spoke again.

  Within a few moments every soldier on the battlefield was standing in file. There was a quick head-count, and then half a dozen captains approached Muda.

  In the end, there were six soldiers who would need at least a day's rest for intensive healing, but no casualties. This was a vast improvement on their first training session, which had happened a few months before. Many of the soldiers had been paralyzed with fear at seeing the illusory the cow-heads, and had been struck down. They'd lost six soldiers that day.

  Sophia had been furious, and threatened to take away the mages, but Muda had calmed her when he explained what he was doing.

  The illusions were terrible fighters, but they were effective for scare-tactics, and for tiring out enemy forces. Muda even had them working on creatures much more vicious than cow-heads. The traditional fire and ice attacks still had their place, but Muda was interested in seeing what else the mages could do.

  Muda dismissed the captains, and then the army, and headed back to his own tent. He had a dozen scholars recording every moment of the battle, as well as sketchists who would draw key moments. Muda would go over these reports along with his officers, and adjust their tactics accordingly.

  When he entered his tent Yannick was already waiting for him.

  "Hello, Muda."

  Muda did not like when Yannick came unannounced but he was a general could not have his soldiers believing he was unwilling to listen to advice.

  "Yannick. I am surprised to see you here."

  Yannick smiled softly. "You did well today. I will have to plan something a little bit more complicated next time."

  Muda grimaced at the compliment. Muda wanted as little to do with Yannick is possible, and so Sophia had suggested that Yannick be more subtle in his teachings. Muda had not realized until just now that the mages had not been planning the illusory army's attacks on their own, as he had instructed them.

  "The refugees have learned much in the short time they have been here. They no longer cower at the sight of a cow-head like they once did." Muda said.

  "You have changed a lot, as well. You are no longer the scared child I remember."

  "And you are still an object to be pitied. Have you come for any other reason than to gloat?"

  "To advise, as is my duty." Yannick replied. "There are some things that you either cannot, or do not want to learn. I am here to discover which it is."

  Muda bit his tongue and stilled his rage. His dislike of the man had not lessened, but he knew Yannick’s tactical advice was sound.

  "Then speak your mind. I am busy." He said.

  Yannick took a few deep breaths, calming himself. "You lack patience." He said when he was ready. "The illusions are weak. They are sloppy. Real enemies will not coddle you."

  He moved to the table where there was a mock-up of the surrounding valleys. Muda followed after him silently.

  "Your army was here, at the base of this valley. The enemy was to the east, between the river and the mountainside." Muda watched the table as Yannick spoke. "You moved forward, for
cing the enemy to higher ground. You had the advantage, but were caught up in your bloodlust. Had I wanted, I could have ordered the mages to block off the water, and drowned your entire army. The enemy would have been able to force your soldiers back from the high ground long enough. They would have lost a lot of soldiers, yes, but your entire army would be dead."

  Muda grimaced, then looked ashamed.

  "What should you have done?" Yannick asked.

  "I should have sent a small force to face the cow-heads." Muda decided. "They could have drawn them out. Then we could have faced them here, where we would have had the high ground."

  "And if they could not be tricked into being pursued?"

  Muda thought for a moment. Using the same tactic of raising the waters would not have worked, there was plenty of room for the enemy to escape. The terrain was too rugged to send soldiers around to flank...

  "The Sikeran way." Muda replied finally. "It is not the noblest method, but...Mounted archers. The cow-heads lack proper shields. The horses can move fast enough to avoid the waters if need be, and the charge could take a few dozen soldiers at a time. It would be slow, but would work eventually."

  "Excellent." Yannick replied, grinning.

  Muda saw the smile and allowed himself a small one as well. He was about to say something when a soldier entered the tent. Muda turned to him, and the soldier saluted.

  "My lord, the lady Sophia has asked for your presence in the city. Master Yannick, you are also needed."

  Muda and Yannick shared a look, then Muda dismissed the messenger.

  "She has not once asked for me to join her in the city." Muda said.

  Yannick looked at him and saw the shadow of pain and longing in that statement.

  "She has now." He said softly. "I have not taught you much of women, but I tell you now it is not wise to make them wait."

  Muda laughed. "That lesson Sophia herself has taught me a hundred times."

  The two men left the tent.