A New Dawn

by J. J. Johnson

  Darting in front of their army was a rider on a white horse. Her fire kissed hair flowing with power and strength behind her. In a nervous rush all settled into their assigned positions. With a roaring voice High Queen Lydia rallied them.

  “Men of Islandia, we face our hour of doom! Doom behind us and doom before us! But we have faced the dark night already. We have tasted fear in every measure, yet here we are. Let us go now, not as those who fear the darkness, but those who carry the light. Join me now in our doom and glory! Men of Islandia!”

  The response filled the air, “A lion’s roar they hear. They fear his cry. They fear to die. They know the men of Eloy are here!”

  He couldn’t help but allow the grin to sneak onto his face. “Now that’s a speech, lass.”

  With one last shout the battle lines charged toward the Grand Wall. A wave of doomed men and women ready to die.

  Imari:

  The door of his prison swung open blinding him with the invading light. As he blinked away the temporary blindness Nabila focused into view.

  “What is it you want?” he snarled.

  “I’m saving your life, Imari. The least you can do is show some gratitude.”

  He stopped trying to fight her, realizing it was to no avail.

  “Come,” she said motioning for him to step out of the cell. He stepped out into the dim and dank stone hallway. The faint creak of a door a few cells down revealed Amira being pulled from her imprisonment as well.

  “What is it now, sister?” Amira asked as she was marched toward them.

  “I want you to see why I have done what I’ve done.” Without another word Nabila ordered the guards beside her to march them forward. Down the dark inner chambers of the wall they walked until they were led to a room with a small slit that peered outside the wall. The early morning sun barely pierced through the ever growing mass of clouds in the sky. As they were made to stare out onto the plains, they could see tiny dots moving into formation.

  “Your friends are moving against us, so it would seem there is more to your coming here than you let on,” Nabila said, examining them.

  “They move on you because you have given them no choice!” Imari snapped.

  “Regardless, they leave us no choice but to fire upon them.”

  “Nabila, this isn’t you! You know this is wrong. Don’t let the pressure of your people steer you to evil.”

  “Not all of us think as they do,” Amira added.

  “I… have no choice,” Nabila said, showing the first sign of the burden she carried.

  “Who cares what the bureaucrats or the mob think, Nabila! There won’t be any of them left if we don’t stand together now,” Amira pleaded.

  “They won’t see it that way. When all we worked for will be exposed to outsiders.”

  “You mean, when we won’t be able to horde it all for ourselves?” Amira asked pointedly.

  “How long have the people of Sahra lived under the shadow of oppression? How long have they suffered because of our family? Finally they have hope. Children can play in the streets without fear, water flows freely, the people live with a new sense of life. Because of us! Now you want me to risk all that again, for what?”

  “You will lose it regardless if you do not stand with us. You may even lose more than that. Is Sahra’s riches worth your very being?” Imari asked.

  “You think me a monster like my father don’t you, Imari? That I would slay any who stood in the way of my power? I am not my father, but I am no fool either. Your people had ample time to flee from here. They chose to stay, and now they will endure the consequence.”

  “Could they really flee?” Imari asked directing his head to the slitted window.

  With narrowed eyes Nabila stared out at the horizon. Suddenly her eyes shot open in shock as she rushed to the window’s frame for a closer look. A vast host of dark specters stretched beyond sight. It was an army unlike any other that had walked the world. Nabila stepped away, trembling.

  “What… what is that?”

  “It is the darkness we have warned you of. It has come, and not just for us,” said Imari.

  “My Sulta, the forces of Khala and Kingshelm are moving toward the wall. Should I give the order to fire?” asked a captain who stood guarding the room.

  Nabila did not break from her stupor.

  “Sulta?” asked the guard.

  “Even together we could not face such a host… who can stand against them?” she mumbled to herself.

  “Nabila! You cannot face such a foe alone, let us help you!” Imari begged.

  “Sulta, what is your order?”

  The shouts of a charging army echoed below as they came rushing toward the wall. Nabila stood frozen, staring out at the blackened horizon. Finally she turned to the waiting captain.

  “Open the gates.”

  “Sulta?” he asked in shock.

  “I said open the gates.”

  With a rigid bow the captain moved to give the order.

  “Nabila, thank you,” Imari said with weary smile.

  “I suppose we can all die together.”

  15: Part 2

  Lydia

  She braced for the arrows that would soon come crashing down, but, to her surprise, no hail of darts arrived. Instead the large gate ahead slowly opened. A squadron of guards came sprawling out, waving a banner of peace. She lifted her sword, slowing the army at her back. With more than a little suspicion, she rode forward to meet the emissaries sent from Sahra.

  “The Sulta Nabila bids you take up the defenses alongside us,” said the captain.

  “She wants us to join you?” Lydia asked, allowing her caution to tint her words.

  The captain dressed in the crimson robes that distinguished his rank licked his lips. “Yes, our Sulta now sees the enemy we face and wishes to join forces.”

  Now that the threat is real you will show compassion, she thought disgustedly. She stared at each of the guards, making clear her disdain for their cowardice.

  “We will accept your hospitality. I give you leave to dispense us where we are needed most along the defenses.”

  A surprised smile crossed the captain’s face. “Most generous, Queen of Kingshelm.”

  “Just know if there is any hint of treachery it will be met with unimaginable force.”

  The captain gulped at the words but quickly stiffened his back. “Of course. You should expect the greatest of Sahra’s hospitality.”

  “Good.” Without waiting for a reply she turned her steed back to the waiting army. As she approached, Henry broke from the host along with Geralt, Lancelin, and Khaleena.

  “What’s the word?” asked Henry.

  “It looks as if the Sulta has changed her mind after seeing what awaits them when they were finished with us.” Her eyes lifted to the encroaching army.

  “Word on Imari?” Khaleena asked.

  Lydia shook her head. “I’m sure he is okay.”

  “We should hurry. We don’t want anyone caught out in the open when the Felled Ones arrive,” Lancelin advised.

  “Wise words. Henry, go with the Sahra captains and make plans on where to station our men. Lancelin, give the order to allow the women and children to enter beyond the wall first.” She paused as her eyes fell to Khaleena.

  “Go and find your brother. I am sure it will lift the spirits of the Bomani.”

  Khaleena’s face cracked with a smile. “Thank you, Lydia.”

  “You have your orders.”

  The others bowed and sped toward their duties. When did they start looking to me for answers? she wondered. She felt the loss of Titus at her side the most in moments like these. How she longed to stand together with him again. Her thoughts melted away at the sight of Aiden limping toward her.

  “So the Sulta is feeling generous now?” he asked.

  “It seems so.”

  “What would you have of me?”

  “To fight
like a Valkaran.”

  A wide grin stretched across his face. “That I can do.”

  It wasn’t long before the last of their forces found their way behind the protection of the Grand Wall, and just in time. Like a deadly storm rolling in from sea, the army of the Felled Ones would soon break against all the Grand Wall had to offer. Lydia found herself near the center of the action. The Sahra commanders had come to the decision to spread their forces across the vast ramparts. Not an inch stood uncovered by a defender or a weapon of war. Soon they would need every one of them. As the Felled Ones approached she could see legions of men leading them.

  “Ulric and his outsiders,” she scowled.

  The ominous clouds now covered the sky overhead, washing the desert stone in colorless tones. Thousands upon thousands of silver eyes stared out from the ghouls beneath them. No army like it had ever been assembled. Every manner of beast they had faced and more now stood ready on The Wastes. Corrupted men and monster alike stood ready to throw the full force of their hatred at them.

  Good, she thought. They will need all they can muster.

  A crack of lightning crossed the rainless sky, and so the assault began. In eerie silence the host before them moved toward the wall. A cry rang out amidst the breezeless air. “Fire!”

  The thrumming of bolts and the satisfying thump of stone followed. In a devastating impact the projectiles landed among the enemy taking out hundreds with the first wave of fire. Still they moved without any hesitation, and, to the great dismay of the Sahra warriors, only Ulric’s men remained slain.

  “They are not made of the right material…” she found herself muttering.

  “What was that?” asked the captain beside her.

  “Eloy gave us special weapons known as Light Bringers. Only they can slay Maluuk’s army.”

  The captain’s eyes grew wide. “You mean to tell me our defenses are useless?”

  “Not entirely. You need to focus on the enemy that still look like men.” She pointed to the banner of the crescent moon leading The Outsiders.

  The captain nodded and barked out the new order, “Focus all fire at that banner!”

  The command reverberated down the wall. The next wave sent a hail of death streaming at Ulric and his men. Cries of agony reached their ears as more Outsiders were slain. Again the waves of rock and steel were sent out. Again they found their mark leaving a trail of bodies behind the marching legions.

  A dark and ominous object came into her view. Out from the cover of the mesas dozens of towers streamed forth. Their height doubled any siege weapon she had seen. Her attention was pulled back as the first wave of foes drew near. From their midst arose ladders of lofty height. Their hooks came driving over the wall’s parapet locking them into place. The Outsiders were first to attempt the deadly climb.

  Crossbow fire rained up at the defenders to cover their climb. Lydia picked up a bow along with all the others to return fire. Reloading, she turned to the captain.

  “Whatever we do, we can’t let the Felled Ones on the wall, otherwise we are doomed!”

  “How can we stand against them without the proper weapons?” he asked.

  She looked around at the few men of her own who had been struck down by crossbow fire. “Pick up their swords.”

  The captain gave her a shrewd look and turned to his officers. “Share the order. Pick up the white bladed swords from the dead!”

  The officers around them nodded as they notched another arrow to their bow. A wave of darts dotted the sky as they rained onto the attackers. She watched as a man was struck in the neck, leaving him in a free fall to the desert floor below. A short distance away, the first of the enemy leaped onto the ramparts. The Sahra and Kingshelm defenders quickly surged to the spot. The clang of steel now flooded the air. All of it was a distraction to turn their eyes and weapons away from the coming towers.

  “Whatever it takes bring those towers down!” she cried.

  The swift response of the ballistic’s engineers resulted in several darts crashing into the towers nearest the wall. They creaked from the inflicted wound, but kept trodding forward in a steady pace.

  “We need fire!” she barked at those who managed the weaponry.

  Archers and engineers alike lit their projectiles and sent them flying. Several hit their target, starting a small flicker along the tops of a nearby tower. Soon the spark burst into a blaze that sent a deadly fire roaring across the siege engine. Felled Ones and men alike heaved themselves from the tower, illuminating the night as living torches.

  The growing sound of conflict drew her attention back to the scene on the wall. She could see the flash of Geralt’s sword as he entered the fray. He had insisted that he be assigned to a place close to her own. The opposing forces clashed with reckless abandon as they met with his men. This would be a battle written in history, she knew, and each man fought as though he knew it too. She only hoped it would be history worth remembering. Her eyes were glued to the conflict as Geralt strained to keep the invaders at bay.

  One tower remained steadily trodding to their section of the defenses. Its looming presence cast a deep shadow over them all. Inside awaited the first of the Felled Ones, ready to devour flesh. The archers focused all their attention to bring it down. Yet no flame would catch. A few flickering darts protruded from its side to no avail. Suddenly a ladder hooked in front of her. A man fastened with black armor and adorned with a blood red moon leaped from its rungs and over the parapet. His face was covered by a mask, its features the face of a demon. With ease he cut down two defenders with a thin curved blade.

  More warriors rushed to meet him and more fell by his sword. She knew she must act before more would meet such a fate. Unsheathing Dawnbreaker, she moved to meet him. The warrior perked up as he saw her draw near. Bringing his sword before him, he eagerly awaited the worthy opponent. She leaped into the air bringing with her a downward slash. The Osaka warrior raised his own in defense but found it melted away as the two blades collided. Dawnbreaker tore with ease through the plates of armor, sinking deep into flesh. With a cry of both terror and agony the man fell to his knees, blood flowing from the cracked chest plate. He removed his mask with all his remaining strength. Caramel eyes stared into her own.

  The seasoned warrior’s face was decorated with wrinkled lines across its features. Each a tale of countless battles he had endured over the years. With labored breath he ushered out his final words, “You… will not… win.”

  She could see behind his faded caramel eyes a sense of dread and warning in the words. As if the fact was both a curse to his ears and the reality he had come to believe. She realized these men were an enemy that both resented their freedom and admired their stand. With one last breath the man from Osaka collapsed, leaving Lydia with a sense of hollow victory.

  Geralt:

  The battle was growing fierce as more invaders poured over the wall. He could see in the distance that the dreaded siege tower still had not fallen. His mind was forced back to his surroundings as a flash of steel filled his peripherals. He raised his sword with no time to spare. The ringing of steel pierced his ears and, with a reflex that could only be achieved from years of training, he slipped his sword under the man’s guard sending it into his abdomen.

  A sickening gurgle burst from the man’s throat as he fell to the ground. He surveyed the battle once more and found that the tower was now only a few yards away.

  “Men! Move to the tower! We cannot let the Sahra forces face the Felled One,” he barked.

  How could they have been so foolish to forget Sahra’s weapons would be useless in this fight? he thought to himself. He rushed past the Sahra soldiers as they looked to fill the void he and his men had made. With a loud thud the door of the tower dropped onto the ramparts. A flood of menacing creatures came bursting forth to meet them. Like a tide they washed over the defenders who stood to face them. Even those equipped with Light Bringers were repelled by the onslaugh
t.

  Knowing he must stem the tide, he took Light Bringer in hand and jumped into the fray. He cut down a spider like creature, its legs buckling as he tore them free of its master. With another swing of his sword, he sent a deadly blow against the head of one of the large mouthed monstrosities. More and more came to face him and all fell by his sword. He noticed the attention of their forces begin to solely manifest on him. That’s when the chant rose above the noise of battle. A foul sounding name was repeated.

  “Draugr.”

  “Draugr.”

  “Draugr.”

  It echoed out until all grew silent as a manlike beast came storming from the siege engine. Its hair was long and matted. Lifeless eyes held the silver sheen of all Felled Ones, but his features remained human. His size was enormous and he wore no armor. Raw muscle was covered with dark and ruinous markings. Each testifying of the deeds he had done in the service of Maluuk. In his hand was an axe made of an ebony colored substance.

  With a thundering roar the beast rushed to him. Spittle and foam flew from its mouth. With a great leap he swept downward with his axe cracking the ground where Geralt once stood. Geralt could feel the presence of both forces backing away to let the two of them fight.

  “Thanks for the help,” he muttered to those behind him. In return, all he received were terrified stares.

  Draugr came charging once more. This time with a side swipe of its axe. It took all of Geralt’s strength to repel the blow, and even still it sent him crashing into the parapet. With a quick roll he dodged the next swing that sent chunks of wall shattering into the air. It was in this moment the face of Draugr caught his attention. Behind all the markings and silver eyes he recognized this thing that was once a man.

  “Fairand?” he said peering at the brute’s face.

  All he received in response was a gargled war cry, but he knew this thing had once been the esteemed commander of the Hillmen who had fought at his side on the Terras Plains. Where he once held only distain for this creature, compassion and pity took its place. He had traded service to Maluuk for his life, and it had cost him his soul. How many more Hillmen filled the ranks of that army beyond the wall? How many of them suffered horrid sacrifice rather than be turned into a slave?