The orders went out again. “Light! Notch! Loose!” This time the arrows fell short. Some force was working against the archer’s efforts. Akira looked at Sky Spirit. There was no time to lose. The enemy was on the verge of reaching solid ground. The dragon swiftly took to the air towards the oil-drenched grass barriers flanking the ever-deepening mud fields. The dragon swooped unchallenged over the first fire trap. She took a deep breath then exhaled a fire stream onto the oil-soaked plains. A high and wide wall of flame shot up in to the air. Within seconds storm vultures came screeching at her. Akira watched as the dragon climbed high in the air so she could maneuver and shoot flames at the storm vultures. Watch out from behind. Dive, Spirit dive! Akira held her breath. The dragon dove, turned, circled, and shot flames at the storm vulture who had been hot on her tail. Akira let her breath out when the black air beast turned into a fireball, dropping down into the wall of flames. Spirit turned sharply. Gained altitude and flew over enemy warriors struggling through the mud, spitting fireballs as she swooped across to set the other oil-soaked grasses on fire. The Dark Lord’s warriors that tried to gain solid footing by going left and right to more solid ground were forced back into the mud. Now a daunting wall of flames flanked both sides of the mud trap. A cheer went up from the archers. Volleys of arrows were aimed to fall between the fire walls. Enemy warriors dropped down into the muck. Still wave after wave of enemy warriors charged through the muddy ground, trampling those who had fallen when pushed from behind. Sky Spirit banked sharply, leading the storm vultures towards Akira. Akira was ready. The storm vultures were gaining on the dragon. Slowing down was a ploy on the dragon’s part to have the winged beast’s eyes on herself only, salivating, ready for a kill. Akira shouted at Fern. “Hand me orbs as fast as I can shoot them.” Fern hesitated, fearing Akira’s aura. Akira saw the hesitation. Akira let her mind go blank, allowing the other memory to respond. The aura enveloped Fern. Fern, unharmed, reached for Akira’s orbs.
Akira watched as the dragon led the storm vultures towards her. Now! Bring them overhead! Akira readied her slingshot. Just as the dragon approached the wall she made a steep vertical ascent. Her belly was exposed to the wall. Seconds behind her the bellies of four storm vultures made large targets for the warrior mage. Akira’s orbs found their mark three times. Blood, guts, gore, and feathers splattered in front of, and on, the fortress walls. Akira wheeled around to try hit the fourth beast. The storm vulture was too close to Spirit. Akira hesitated. She missed her chance. She turned back to the attack in front. The war machines were getting closer. Bring it back around again!
Will do! Spirit turned to circle back. She turned her head midair to make sure the storm vulture was following. Spirit flew towards the fortress wall again. When she made her vertical ascent for the second time the fourth storm vulture didn’t follow the dragon. It flew straight for Akira. Its shriek was ear-piercing. Coming head first, it presented a smaller target than before. Akira took aim. The orb found its mark again, none too soon. Akira looked at Fern. Fern was wiping blood and lumps of vulture meat from her robe. “That was too close for comfort!” Fern said. “I underestimated the intelligence of that thing.”
“So did I.” Akira shuddered. “Thanks for handing me the orbs.”
“My pleasure. Although you do need to get on with using bolts of lightning. Less messy.”
Akira raised an eyebrow. “Easier said than done. Speaking of messy, look at the battle ground. The enemy has reached the trenches.” A trebuchet toppled over, then another. “The trenches are working!” Akira looked skyward. Spirit was approaching the wall. There were no storm vultures following her. Akira watched the dragon land at the bottom of the wall to sniff the pieces of vulture strewn about. Spirit grabbed a large piece of the now unidentifiable storm vulture in her jaws. She tossed it away from the wall, roaring before climbing the wall to perch near her rider.
Dimitri rode his war horse out of the city gates leading a battalion to engage the enemy warriors who trudged through the mud, warriors who had missed dying in the trenches, warriors with bloodlust in their eyes. Clashing sounds of metal on metal split the air. More and more heavily breathing warriors made their way onto the solid ground where Dimitri’s men charged at them. Blood curdling war cries sent shivers down Akira’s spine. Her hearing was acute. The sounds of metal axes breaking flesh and breaking bones made her cringe. She reached for her sword, the sword the witch had given her for a wedding gift. She looked at Spirit. The temptation to fly into the battle was great. Spirit gave her a questioning look. The dragon read her thoughts and cautioned her to wait. Her sword, used as a sword would be useless in the air.
Akira looked at the sword in her hand. Suddenly she knew what it was to be used for! She looked at the witch. The witch smiled. Akira forced herself to wait. How had the witch known? Akira looked at the wedding gift sword. The unusual wedding gift now made sense.
While she waited for the right moment to take to the sky, the warlords waiting hidden on the outskirts of the city wall listened for and heard a trumpet. Half of the warlords led their men to the right and half of the warlords went to the left. They circled the city to stand behind the firewalls. Dimitri’s men were slaughtering the enemy as they emerged from the mud. Bodies were piling up. Beasts of burden, tortured by the sting of whips strained to pull the war machines in range of the city wall. The beasts fell into trenches. Spikes gutted them ending their torment. Wheeled towers toppled. Several more trebuchets toppled into the quagmire.
It looked as if the allied army had a chance to defeat the enemy. Hope sprang in Akira’s heart. It died as suddenly as it was born. Another wave of warriors charged through the killing field. They were not sinking deep in the mud. They were charging across trampled men, using them like foot stones.
Men still alive, stuck in the mud, drowned in mud, pushed further into the mud by the boots of their own comrades in arms. Souls of the dead were sucked up into the dark cloud, giving energy to the dark cloud. Lightning crackled through the dark mass as souls entered its bowels. Akira shuddered. The Dark Mage, Kalifar, wasn’t using walking dead in his army. He was sucking the essence of dead warriors into the dark cloud to fuel his own mage magic energy.
Akira caught sight of Kalifar. She had thought he would be ugly. It wasn’t so. He was handsome, darkly beautiful. Riding his fearsome looking black stallion, flanked by ogres and his huge panther-like creature the Dark Lord snarled. He raised his arm and motioned for the ogres to advance. He raised one arm upwards. A dark funnel cloud dropped its tail to his hand. The Dark Lord’s lip curled as he drew power from the souls of the dead. He cast a shadow over his charging ogres. The number of ogres doubled. Akira gasped as the horde of ogres crashed into Dimitri’s army.
Zane’s eyes narrowed. Dimitri’s men were attacking thin air! Illusions! He shouted down to Dimitri’s men. “Pay attention only to the ogres touching ground! Your swords are distracted from the ogres that are real!” His words rippled through the men until they reached Dimitri’s ears. Dimitri charged an ogre with a foot on the ground, ignoring one that was bearing down on him. He winced as the closest ogre looked like it was about to remove his head from his shoulders. He ignored it, slammed his shield into the second ogre. It was solid. It was real. “Fucking magic!” He turned to look at Zane in the distance. He wiped blood from his brow and raised his sword in thanks. Zane nodded then raised his hands, elbows tucked against his sides he muttered “Two can play this game.” He pushed his hands forward like shoving an invisible weapon forwards. Akira watched. She blinked as her vision went blurry for a second. There was nothing wrong with her eyes. She realized the illusion mage was working his magic. It was as if heat waves were distorting her vision.
Like a desert mirage playing deadly tricks suddenly there were triple warriors for the ogres to fight. When the next ogre went to attack Dimitri, he faced three Dimitri’s. Which one to use his club upon? The ogre hesitated. He swayed from side to side shifting his stance. When his eyes decided
on the middle Dimitri, the Dimitri to the left slashed open his throat.
Less of the allied warriors fell. The tide of war was turning in favor of the defenders. Akira breathed a sigh of relief. She gave Zane a grateful stare. Yooda caught her attention. He was blowing his breath towards the wall of fire. His face turned red with exertion. Akira stared at him, then at the wall of fire. A wind was blowing the flames towards the archers positioning themselves to shoot through the flames into the muddy center of the battlefield. It wasn’t a wind of chance that threatened the archers. Yooda was battling another mage, or perhaps even the Dark Lord. Akira drew in deep breath and let her magic aura expand until it engulfed Yooda. Yooda’s eyes sparked as an infusion of energy from Akira increased his ability to change the direction of the wind. Akira hoped the walls of flame wouldn’t burn out too soon. Her mind whirled. She needed to see who Yooda was battling. She had given Yooda a burst of energy, a second wind. It wouldn’t last long. She could stay close and infuse Yooda with energy, indirectly, or help defeat his opponent actively. Akira ran to Spirit and strapped herself into her saddle. She needed to attack whomever Yooda was battling while he or she was engaged in battle with Yooda.
About time thought Spirit.
Let’s do some damage. We need to find and crush the mage Yooda is battling before Yooda pops the veins in his forehead. Akira tried to sound as brave, and as eager, as the dragon was to do battle face to face. She thought about an invisibility shield, and quickly dismissed the thought, for it would take too much time and energy. Offence not defense. Akira was thinking in terms of her old energy levels. She was uncertain of her new powers.
The dragon took to the air carrying Akira above the battlefield. The bodies were piling up below. Akira’s heart sank. The Dark Lord used the souls of the dead for his energy. She looked at the sword in her hand. She knew it wasn’t going to strike flesh and blood. She looked at the lightning in the dark clouds. The sword was going to strike deep into the cloud and touch the lightning. She was going to steal the Dark Lord’s power to use against him!
Akira experienced fear on a whole new level. She started to vibrate with the enormity of what she was going to try to do. Yooda was going to be on his own. Dimitri and his men would be on their own. Her orbs, her arrows, would not kill the Dark Lord. Akira felt faint. She bit her lip, tasted her own blood. The pain cleared her mind. The faint feeling left. Akira felt stupid. She had been holding her breath.
Breathe! she told herself.
Spirit responded. Yes! Please do breathe. Breathing is good. You must have a clear head if we are going to do what you just thought.
I’m afraid thought Akira to the dragon.
Is there any other way to defeat the evil one?
My heart, a voice inside tells me there is no other way. Akira looked back over her shoulder. The more the body count grew, the stronger the Dark Mage’s power grew.
We may well die with the Dark Mage if I can do this, steal his power, and turn it against him. I have never channeled that much energy before. I don’t know if it can be done.
Today is as good as any other day to die my friend. We must try!
We need to fly into that dark abyss ahead. Akira’s thoughts were interrupted by a volley of arrows bouncing from Spirit’s scales. Akira raised her shield quickly, but not quick enough. An arrow pierced her thigh, pinning her to her saddle. She gasped. She grabbed the arrow and pulled it out. Blood gushed. Her head reeled at the sight of so much blood. What to do? Suddenly Akira knew what to do. Her father’s memory was guiding her hand. She took her magic wand and jabbed it into the hole in her thigh. It burned. Akira couldn’t hold back her scream. She pulled out the wand. The bleeding had stopped. Beads of perspiration ran into her eyes, down the side of her face. Spirit roared as an arrow struck one of her wings. It wasn’t a hurt roar. It was a pissed off roar. Climbing higher into the air, the she dragon turned to eject a broad all-encompassing flame. The flame melted the volley of arrows that chased them. The arrows fell like sparks that lost their updraft.
The witch, Fern, watched as the dragon carried Akira towards the clouds. She looked at the archers taking aim at the dragon-riding mage, then looked back over her shoulder. “Now my sweets! Sting the eyes shut of the archers of our enemy. Fill their armor with your little bodies. Climb up their nostrils. Crawl under their clothing. Torture their flesh for threatening the forests, for destroying the fields of flowers you need to survive.” The witch waved her dark cloud of bees forward. “Show them little can be deadly! Protect the dragon rider!” The insects did her bidding. They swarmed into the battlefield. The buzz was first ignored, but within minutes the small army was causing havoc with the Dark Lord’s warriors. Men screamed and dove into the mud to escape the stinging bees. The ogres with their thicker skins didn’t feel the stings. But the bees going into their ears and nostrils caused them to swat at themselves to rid themselves of the insects.
The largest of the ogres were being defeated by the smallest of creatures. The archers taking aim at Akira and her dragon were swatting instead of notching arrows. Fern looked satisfied until the tides of war turned against her little army. A blast of cold from the direction of the Dark Lord made the bees drop midair. The cold blast traveled in a bright white light. It traveled past the battlefield straight for the witch. Fern froze in an instant. Her hand was stretched out as if to shade her eyes from the bright light. Waldorf bumped the witch when he sidestepped the icy blast. Fern toppled over. Her body shattered like an icicle falling from a roofline. A piece of her bounced off Zane.
Zane cursed the Dark Lord. “May the gates of the seventh hell close behind you today!” He looked towards the dark cloud. The dragon carrying Akira was heading into the dark cloud. He frowned. He glanced sideways to see Yooda struggling. Gusts of wind whipped Yooda’s hair about his face. The gusts carried sand. It pelted the wind mage, stung his eyes. There was no time to wonder what the beautiful young dragon-riding mage was up to. Zane put his hand on Yooda’s shoulder, sharing his energy with the older mage. Together they maintained the walls of fire and calmed the rogue wind being turned against them. Tazir, further down the wall’s high walkway, rocked on his heels, chanting as fast as he could, throwing fireballs at ogres. “Fifty-two, fifty-three, ha, fifty-four and fifty-five in one throw.” The small mage was counting direct hits. He had dropped his dignified mannerisms at the count of twenty and one. He looked like he liked killing ogres.
One ogre got up after being hit by one of Tazir’s fireballs. His hair was singed. Part of his cheek hung down onto his chin. He bellowed like a bull. He fought his way past the defenders and started to climb the fortress wall. The ogre used his axes to pull himself up the wall. His cheek sprayed blood on the wall as he climbed. Tazir looked over the edge of the wall almost coming face to face with the bloodied ogre. The ogre was about two axe pulls from climbing onto the wall.
Tazir’s nose wrinkled. He could smell the foul breath of the ogre. An archer’s arrow from below, piercing the ogre’s back, caused the ogre to pause his ascent momentarily, giving Tazir time to change his game plan. “Oh, shite balls!” Tazir exclaimed. “A lightning bolt is in order”. Tazir lifted his wand and zapped the ogre. The ogre fell backwards landing on his back. A warrior below finished the stunned the ogre off by stabbing his sword through the its extra eye. The warrior looked up and smiled at the mage. The mage gave the warrior a thumbs up, and zapped another ogre charging up behind the warrior. The warrior gave the mage a thumbs up as a spear pierced his back and came out his chest. “Rats and troll sweat! Poor man!” said Tazir, clearly looking worried. More ogres were breaking through the defense line.
Tazir shouted back at Yooda and Zane. “I can no longer be conservative with magic powers.” He looked out at the muddy battlefield then back at Zane and Yooda. Zane nodded his understanding.
“We need an offensive move! We need to strike at the heart of the evil one himself,” shouted Tazir.
Yooda and Zane nodded at each other. The
y disengaged their magic from the walls of fire. The flames had consumed all available fuel. It was Zane’s illusions that created the appearance of strong and deadly flames. With the flames subsiding and smoke rising from the ashes the allied archers took aim at individual targets with the last of their arrows.
The allied warlord commanders along the fire line quickly conferred. Warriors with large heavy shields stood shoulder to shoulder. The shields had round cut outs on each side. Warriors with long spears stood right behind the shield carriers, ready to add their weight to the shields, ready to stab their spears through the cut out of the shields. The warlords ordered them forward. An ominous drum beat set the pace. The moving wall of shields started, stopped, and braced to the beat of the drummers. When the moving wall stopped, long spears jabbed into the enemy warriors trying to break through the shields, bloodied shields putting the squeeze on them. The moving wall had to lift over the enemy bodies. Warriors behind the spear handlers used axes and swords on the fallen enemy warriors, and bodies alike, to make certain they were truly dead. Shield bearers stumbled over the large ogre bodies. Spear handlers helped them up. The moving wall of shields advanced to the edge of the muddy battlefield. Bodies were three and four deep. The smell of blood, fear, and sweat mixed with smoke.
Akira looked back from her moving vantage point astride her dragon above the battleground. She spotted Dimitri. He was in trouble. Her heart beat faster. He and Cronus were fighting back to back surrounded by the enemy. She was torn. She and Spirit were so close to entering the black cloud relatively unscathed. Her heart wanted her to turn back. She hesitated. She urged Spirit towards the cloud. Her heart won the battle. She couldn’t abandon him. The dragon banked and turned back.
With exploding orbs and bursts of far-reaching scorching dragon flames Akira and her dragon cleared an escape path for Dimitri and Cronus. Mages, Zane and Tazir saw the opportunity to combine their magic efforts with Akira’s.
Akira Rides Page 22
