Storm of Prophecy, Book I: Dark Awakening

by Michael Von Werner

  It struck the ground with incredible power, annihilating thousands of undead with an explosion in its center. Those in it were turned to dust. Those surrounding this focus point were blasted away, their bodies torn apart to varying degrees, and a harsh wind from it slammed the debris into those who stood beyond this. Only a crater remained in the middle of its wake.

  A loud, collective cheer went up among those not directly engaged. Another sergeant wearing a wide-rimmed metal helmet, carrying an upright halberd, stepped forward and momentarily let go with one hand. “Come on men!” He yelled loudly, swinging his free arm.

  A collective roar resounded as a unit of halberdiers wearing rimmed helmets charged in to assist the beleaguered swordsmen. They crashed into the undead with their metal spear points, thrusting them back from their comrades. Immediately afterward, many chose to retract the weapon, pulling it back and making downward swings with the portion that was an axe-blade. Limbs were chopped off, and blades passed through shoulders, lodging into torsos.

  The fighting continued as swordsmen hacked at zombies gripping the ends of their friends’ longer weapons even though the weapons were still impaled or sliced into them. One group of halberdiers made an excellent stand by repelling with their points a number of burning bodies that still managed to reach the front line after pyromancers attacked with over-arching rivers of flame. A few others managed to skewer their victims fatally through the forehead.

  Thousands of undead filled the open expanse Anthony had created. Another wave of black arrows flew toward their group. Fire and bolts of lightning shot out to obliterate them, but a few were making it through.

  Vincent stood watching one fly straight toward him and then swiftly stepped aside while making a fast swing, chopping it in half. The pieces wriggled on the ground as though alive before becoming small piles of dust. He turned and saw a pyromancer a few feet away from him who had been claimed, a black shaft sticking out woodenly from his chest.

  A sorceress moved closer, not sure if he was dead and not knowing what to do. “Sidney?” She asked.

  “Get away from him!” Vincent warned.

  Sidney turned toward the woman, and she screamed while backing away at seeing his ghastly face. Though it pained him, Vincent swung hard at his neck as the man lunged at her, removing his head. The headless body fell into her, blood spewing forth onto her dress from its neck. She screamed in horror, pushing away at it and the latently clasping arms.

  The few people immediately nearby stared at him for an instant, appalled by his quick and gruesome save or else surprised by his speed, then resumed their volleying against the zombies, adding to the pandemonium. He shared a tight-lipped, stern look with the woman, who had a shocked expression on her blood splattered face, before wordlessly returning his attention to the battle and putting a hand to the bleeding cut on his side.

  Sounds of explosions, cutting, slashing, and arrows in flight filled the air. Vincent heard another scream followed by a smashing, wet sound and looked over. He saw the body of a man in blue robes collapsing to the ground, knees first, after there was a spray of blood from his crushed head. Karl’s dripping rock floated back.

  Things seemed only to get worse after that. Several hundred of their men had perished, many becoming undead before their fellows were forced to send them to the ground permanently. Compared to their losses, more zombies appeared to have fallen, and the bodies piled, yet this was only a small dent in their total number. The ground, slick with blood, caused a few of the oncoming enemy to slip and fall.

  Wizards fell to the enemy while skeletal cultists continued their onslaughts and continued to raise the dead. Terrible apprehension began to creep over Vincent’s soul. The fear and despair was palpable all around, and soldiers were losing their nerve.

  Vincent stood his ground, as he had for the vault, wondering if their foe truly was backed by the power of a god. What he beheld appeared far beyond the capability of any necromancer in recorded history. At this rate, they would not survive it.

  Flashes of red light, both from arching blazes and explosive sparks, routinely brightened the battlefield. Cracks of lighting added to it and endlessly struck with thunderous sound. Throngs of ravenous dead snarled and attacked unabated even while many in their midst perished from the bands of light. They washed over and over onto the front of their army like waves on a shore. It was a chaos punctured by death screams and the thick smell of blood and rotting flesh.

  Karl rushed up to Vincent’s side, grabbing his shirt near his shoulder in both fists. His voice sounded truly terrified. “Vincent, we have to leave!” He looked down with a grimace at the hand Vincent held to cover the bleeding wound on his side, and quickly released him.

  Vincent glanced back toward the carnage that ensued, his own profound doubt over their survival clawing at his inner being, and then back toward Karl, who was bleeding in several places as well. “We must not panic,” he insisted, feeling the same fear.

  “Panic?” Karl asked. He grabbed two fistfuls of Vincent’s shirt once again and shook him. “WE MUST CONVINCE MASTER ANTHONY TO ORDER A RETREAT!”

  Vincent looked toward Master Anthony and saw the angry look on his face while he unleashed another of his devastating attacks, destroying countless more zombies and kicking up a debris wind that slammed what pieces were left into the enemy. Yet more came. “I don’t think he will listen. Our main difficulty is the cultists. If we can do something about them, maybe we have a chance.”

  Karl released him. “But we can’t even hurt them!” He exclaimed, sweeping an arm in their direction. “You saw what happened!”

  Vincent firmly looked him in the eye. “There has to be a way!” He insisted.

  “We are losing this!”

  “They must be stopped!”

  “If we don’t flee, it’s only a matter of time before…”

  BOOM!

  They both flinched and ducked instinctively when a green fire blast pounded a portion of their front line, killing soldiers everywhere. Out of anger, one of the pyromancers yelled and sent a bigger ball of flame straight at the black-hooded skeletons. It disappeared harmlessly. Dead charged in at the breach and large bright streaks of lightning shot forth from Stacy’s hands, shattering their targets at high velocity. Other atmomancers were actively engaged in doing the same, including the man with the metal rod, who for some reason had strange lumps attached to his blue robes. Dead soldiers continued to rise from their own ranks.

  “Snighne!” Arrows flew.

  BOOM! More soldiers were killed.

  Another volley of black arrows flew toward them. Their fellow wizards were far more attentive this time, destroying nearly all of them. One of Deralon’s men was hit. Another bent down to share a few last words while a third unsheathed a curved blade. The rest continued to drop zombies with almost no misses. Another hail came and a blonde woman in blue robes was claimed. Her friends were not quick.

  “Kill her!” Vincent yelled at them.

  When they hesitated, the man with the iron rod finished sending a lightning blast and then swung around to knock her off her feet. He then pinned her immediately to the ground with its end between her breasts near the black arrow while her crazed, ashen arms thrashed. The mustached botanical mage pulled a seed from his bag and tossed it on her.

  A green patch of thin sprouts grew into a dense clump, and she continued to thrash even as it grew around her and into the ground. She struggled wildly and uselessly against it, her range of motion becoming more and more restricted. The man with the iron rod removed it, and Vincent watched while her body was enveloped and consumed, becoming nothing more than a green stump in the shape of a person.

  A zombie broke through the soldiers and headed straight for the man with the rod. The plant mage flicked a hand toward his friend, and suddenly one of the strange lumps flew off his robes and grew to enormous size, knocking the zombie back as it landed. Brown tendrils whipped around while a dense, wet ball of roots devoured its prey. L
eaves began to spread on its tendrils, which grew in size further, whipping about dangerously and ensnaring newcomers. Everyone took several steps back to keep their distance from it.

  Several more green fire-blasts flew toward Rygan soldiers, killing many in loud explosions of burning body pieces and rent flesh. Nearby men screamed in pain from shot metal fragments. Most of the burnt dead rose. Soldiers behind were too frightened to join the fray. Another blast of green fire was heading straight for the exhausted wizards, alarming everyone.

  Vincent heard a loud growl of intense physical effort, and saw the green ball of flame steer itself upward, going over their men and crashing into the forest behind them. Shields were raised when it made trees explode and lit splinters ablaze. His eyes found Rick, who stood facing toward it with his back to the enemy, hunched over with his hands on his knees and struggling hard just to breathe. Someone leapt at him to push him out of the way as a black arrow flew past and stuck itself in the ground, twitching and trying in futility to get itself free. It seemed that Rick was getting better at it, but what little strength he had left would not suffice.

  Men clashed with zombies and dead soldiers alike. More black arrows flew. Light flashed as a frantic and desperate barrage went up to destroy them. With one hand on his sword, Vincent made a panicked swing to hack one out of the air that came unexpectedly, his heart thumping from the quick fright. Another that came late flew toward Karl and he ducked fast. Vincent turned left to look behind his cousin and almost froze. He saw the impossible happen: it changed its direction in mid-flight.

  To go back toward Karl.

  Karl’s back was to it and he didn’t know. There was no time to give him a warning. Karl stared wide-eyed at Vincent as he kick-shoved him out of the way, making him land on his side. The arrow flew over and then changed course again to go down toward him. Vincent stepped one leg over him and cleaved it in one swift, diagonal swing over his cousin. Karl lifted his hands to protect his face as the two pieces flew off at odd angles.

  Vincent shared a look with him when Karl moved his hands away. “They don’t quit,” he explained, stepping back and offering his hand to help him up.

  Karl made a strained sound while taking the hand and pulling himself up. Pain shot into Vincent’s side. The sound of explosions and weapons clashing ensued around them as did flashes of light in his peripheral vision. Karl’s blond hair jostled as he stood up and rubbed a hand on the side he had landed on.

  BOOM! They both ducked again at the threat of flying metal bits that were once chain mail, then turned their attention toward the enemy.

  Karl growled in aggravation. “We must retreat or we’re finished!”

  “If we rout now, we are finished!”

  “Those cult members will kill us if we don’t! They’re invincible this time!”

  Vincent still wasn’t so sure. “How can they be impervious to everything!”

  “How should I know!”

  “It’s not possible! They must have a weakness! We just have to find out what it is, and use it!”

  “And how long should we wait to find it!” Karl fired back. “Till we're all dead!”

  The blood and carnage continued and Vincent and Karl were each forced to break from arguing to kill a few zombies that managed to just make it through. Deralon’s men fired more arrows. Soldiers with swords, axes, and halberds fought mightily to hold their ground. The plant monster unleashed by the mustached man ensnared more zombies in its tendrils, devouring them. They began to go around it, and the plant mage used his magic to make it grow larger and grab more of them anyway. Master Anthony unleashed another devastating strike.

  Far off to the right, a green blast came down on their front ranks. Several more joined it, flying through the air toward their forces. At great effort, Rick steered one that was aimed at their fore down just enough to land on the undead’s own forces, yet they still wreaked havoc elsewhere. Their army was dwindling, more than half was gone, and each one fallen only began to rise and aid the enemy. They were losing. A smaller hail of black arrows came and was obliterated in loud thunderclaps that were uncomfortably close, sending a spray of splinters that caused them both to recoil and cover their faces.

  Karl cursed profusely, pulling a large one out of his cheek while it steamed and burned him as it dissolved. Blood ran down the side of his face after it was dislodged. Vincent clenched his teeth and pulled several out of his own right forearm, feeling the same sharp pain that also burned, keeping his sword pointed down. The dissolving pieces turned to ash when they were discarded.

  “I’m going to try just one last thing, and if it doesn’t work, I’m leaving!” He heard his cousin declare angrily. “You can stay here and die if you want!” He looked around at the landscape in annoyance, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Firstly though, it looks like I need to do some mining.” His voice became louder and slower, emphasizing a deeper frustration while he vaguely pointed in the direction of the enemy. “Keep those damn things off of me!” Karl closed his eyes and held his hands down, moving them around as though feeling the ground with them.

  “I’ll try,” Vincent muttered, stepping in front of him and holding his sword up with both hands.

  “Wait,” Karl said, “don’t stand there. I just found something.”

  Vincent heard more explosions and saw arrows flying throughout the blood strewn pandemonium that was taking place. His head turned worriedly toward the distraction of his cousin’s voice and then back. “What?”

  Karl put his hands on Vincent’s shoulders and started ushering him to stand several feet over to the right of where he was. “It’s a bit left of here,” he explained, “we’re going to want to stand on ground more sturdy than this.”

  “What is?”

  “You’ll see, just stand here in front of me and keep hitting those things while I work.” He raised his voice to the rows of soldiers marching around them. “All of you stand clear of this spot!” They looked on in fear of the battle they were about to join and in confusion of his words but did as asked.

  Vincent glanced behind quickly. Karl stood facing to their left while squatting down low and holding both palms up. Out front, the battle raged and losses on each side mounted, with theirs at a clear disadvantage. While Vincent concentrated on watching for more black arrows, he heard a low rumbling followed by loud knocking sounds of rocks hitting each other and the sifting of dirt being moved and disturbed. Tangles of grass and thin tree roots ripped. Then he heard a sustained grunt coming from his cousin as though he were lifting a heavy burden. The ground near his feet shook only the slightest bit but otherwise remained firm. He glanced left again and saw dirt and rocks falling off a large boulder that hovered up out of a big opening in the ground.

  “Watch out!” A soldier yelled.

  BOOM!

  More black arrows came. Flashes of light went up to destroy them. Anxiety tore through Vincent as one flew his way and he frantically swung across his face to chop at it. Another found its mark on the chest of a wizard. A woman atmomancer near Stacy quickly noticed and sent forth lightning from her hand that blasted the person apart. Vincent continued to hear Karl’s strained grunting.

  Right after an intense blast of purple lightning shot down from the sky, smiting a throng of walking corpses in a terrible wind of dust and torn flesh, Vincent heard his cousin make one final roar of effort and at last saw the massive boulder hurtling through the air toward the enemy. With eyes wide, Clyde quickly side-stepped his undead horse. The boulder flew by him and instead smashed another robed, skeletal figure off theirs, crushing them on the ground and rolling over many zombies behind them. All wizards froze for an instant, staring at the massive stone that had penetrated the enemy’s barrier. Vincent looked carefully but did not see the cult member get up.

  Black arrows flew.

  There was one fewer.

  “Guard him!” Master Anthony yelled, joining the others again in shooting them down.

  Another volley came
quickly right after it, and was frantically destroyed. Another came and then another. The enemy had realized the threat that Karl posed and was making every attempt to slay him. Vincent watched nervously while the arrows kept coming. He chopped one quickly and then swung again to get another. They were coming faster and faster, and they were coming for Karl.

  He felt Karl put his hands on his shoulders. “Hurry! Let’s get behind the others!”

  Using Vincent as a shield, Karl walked them closer toward a crowd of wizards that was grouping itself tighter to fend off the hails. Many crouched or bent their knees so that others behind could aim over them. Frightened and desperate, Vincent sent magic into his sword to make it faster and lighter, swinging over and over at high speeds to chop at the black shafts while Karl moved them toward the others. The arrowhead of one he chopped flew off and scratched his face.

  After they rejoined the group, Vincent was careful to keep enough distance so his blade wouldn’t strike anyone. The arrows flew and flew, getting decimated by their intense barrage of magic. One making it through arched up and over the top of their friends, toward Karl. Vincent jumped and swung high in the air to cut it down. The skeletal cultists then started trying to curve them around to avoid their defense. Most were obliterated, yet Karl still hurriedly switched places with Vincent to crowd near the others. Vincent concentrated, watching warily, then had to swing to one side and then another.

  With his back to Vincent, Karl lifted his green-sleeved arms to his sides with elbows bent and fists clenched. He bent his knees down in a more solid stance and began grunting in effort. The large boulder he flung began to roll from its position, crushing zombies caught under it, until it stopped at a new position off to the right of the row of undead horses and riders.

  He opened his hands and his body shook while he braced his legs against the ground as though lifting something heavy. Lightning bolts and balls of fire shot up and destroyed black arrows. Vincent chopped another one trying to sneak in from the right and then warily checked again to the left. The boulder levitated from the ground, and when his cousin judged it high enough, he made a strained yell while pushing out with his hands.