Awake the Cullers (History of Ondar)

by Amanda Young

  * * *

  She watched her citizens assemble in the great stadium tree. The entire city was shut down, save for the guards at the wall, but they already knew what she would say. She practiced her speech on them. Despite the thousands of people gathered in the tree, conversation was kept down to nervous whispers. She stood on her balcony, and even that stopped. Every man, woman and child anxiously awaited what she would say. Taking a deep breath, she began.

  “Citizens of Suriax, I come to you today with news of a possible threat to our city. As many of you know, the people of the Southern Plains have suffered greatly from a series of raids on their cities. These attacks were brutal. In all but a couple of isolated incidents, there were no survivors. Any village touched was completely destroyed.

  “The raiders continue to travel north. They are currently in the Alerian territories to our south. Every indication is they intend to come this way. While I do not anticipate they will be able to get past the wall, their numbers are great, and their skill in destruction is undeniable. If we do find ourselves under a prolonged siege, it is possible, however unlikely, we could find ourselves fighting a battle within the city walls. Should that occur, boats will be waiting at the docks to transport anyone unable to fight due to age or infirmity.

  “There is one more thing you should know. There are those who believe these raiders are in fact an organized band or army of Cullers.” There was an audible gasp from the crowd. “I know what you are thinking. I do not know if these rumors are true. I can tell you the raiders are strong, difficult to kill and relentless. Whether they are monsters from our past or an entirely new kind of monster is irrelevant. They enjoy attacking villages of helpless farmers in the dark of night, while they sleep. We will not prove so easy a target. And if they survive their battle with us, they will know never to challenge our strength again.” Cheers rang up from the crowd. She waited a moment to let their excitement build, then held up her hand for silence.

  “Take this time to make whatever preparations you deem necessary for you and your families. Thank you.” Inclining her head to the crowd, Maerishka returned to her chamber. The tree, quiet before, was a hive of activity and sounds.

  “You did well,” Alvexton said, taking her hands.

  She agreed. The tension of this morning was replaced by excitement and planning. The biggest problem with any disaster was its unexpectedness. They were all caught off guard and unprepared on the Night of Blue Fire. That would not happen this time. Let the raiders come. Suriax would be ready.

  * * *

  It was too easy sometimes. Ridikquelass accepted an apple from the street vendor and munched on her snack while she walked around the city. So this was Suriax. It was big, as she expected. Across the street, boys sparred, their hands covered in blue flames. She watched the practice with excitement. They moved with fluid grace and strength, throwing off small balls of fire at each other with every punch and kick. One boy picked up a shield, as his opponent’s attacks grew too much. The stronger boy laughed and pulled all the fire to one fist, concentrating its heat to his knuckles, and punched. The shield shattered. The boy fell. In battle, this would be the time when the stronger fighter pressed his advantage and destroyed his adversary. This was not a battle. The weaker boy raised a supplicating hand and was helped to his feet. The stronger boy then proceeded to show the other boy how to perform that focused fire punch.

  Ridikquelass wandered around some more. Everyone was busy preparing. They thought to ready themselves against attack. She almost laughed out loud. Instead, she tossed her apple core into a trash barrel and sat down at a small diner. She decided she wanted a glass of warm tea. Elves did make the best tea, after all. She should enjoy some before the city was destroyed.

  The waitress brought out a glass of water and added the herbs at her table. Holding the glass with both hands, her palms began to glow blue. The water in the glass bubbled with heat. Once satisfied the temperature was right, the woman set down the drink and walked away. She blew on her tea and sipped it carefully. Perfect.

  “Having fun?” a voice said, close to her ear. A woman with long dark hair and a simple dress sat down across from her. If not for the conch shell pendant hanging around her neck, even Ridikquelass would have difficulty recognizing her.

  “Careful, Nadda, don’t want anyone noticing your little voice trick. They may become suspicious.”

  Nadda shrugged. Resuming her mute act, she motioned for Ridikquelass to give her report. She took another sip of tea and was rewarded by Nadda’s look of annoyed impatience. “Okay,” she said at last, keeping her tone low. “So, we were right about the people in the caves. That Suriaxian woman from the Tynerock raid is with them. If we intercept them before they reach the city we can snag her, although I don’t know if we should even bother. Everyone here can do that blue fire trick. Some are probably even stronger than she is.”

  Nadda nodded. Standing, she waited for Ridikquelass to follow her. Getting into the city was a simple task. They came in through the main entrance by claiming to be evacuees from the south. Not wanting to risk leaving the same way they came in and arousing suspicions, why would evacuees leave so soon with the warning of danger approaching, they moved to the southern wall and slipped out through a small tunnel left under the wall by some animal. They found it and three other similar weak spots unnoticed around the perimeter on their initial search of the city. Soon they would be back, and Suriax would fall.

  * * *

  “Are you sure we didn’t walk past Suriax and Aleria?” Marcy asked.

  Thomas laughed. “Cheer up. If we did, we can just keep going until we get to my old home up north.” Marcy rolled her eyes.

  “We didn’t pass them,” Rand assured everyone.

  “Is your mother a good cook?” Kern asked Thomas, ignoring Rand, “because I am really in the mood for good stew and ale.”

  “We did not pass Suriax,” Rand repeated.

  “As long as we don’t pass your home too and end up walking all the way to the desert settlements,” Zanden said, adding his two coppers to their hypothetical discussion.

  “We did not pass Suriax,” Rand said again.”

  Lynnalin patted him softly on the arm. “Sorry, but no one is listening to you.”

  “Hrmph,” Rand huffed and crossed his arms. “Maybe next time we get stuck in a mountain I will leave all of you to find your own way out,” he grumbled. They all laughed. The mood lightened, they walked in silence again for awhile.

  Kern stared forward, stared at his feet, counted the knots in the wall and the cracks in the floor, anything to pass the time. The caves could be beautiful, but after spending so much time in them, he longed for open air. Looking at the walls, he noticed patterns he had not seen earlier. Small patches of moss covered spots of the wall and floor. A small lizard slithered off into a crevice between the rocks.

  “Hey, Lynn, did you add more light balls?”

  “No, why?” she answered.

  “Is it just me, or is it lighter in the tunnel?”

  “No, you’re right,” Marcy agreed.

  Barely able to contain their excitement, they hurried around the curves of the tunnel and were rewarded with the sight of daylight streaming in to an expansive, open cave. There were cries of joy, laughter, and cheers, as the other people in their group saw the sunlight. Kern stepped forward, blinking against the brightness of the light. Across the wheat fields, maybe a mile away, was the high wall of Suriax.

  “Told you we didn’t pass it.”

  Chapter 8

  “They are through the mountains!” Pielere cried out, taken off guard by the flood of excitement, relief and joy he felt coming from the survivors of Tynerock and Everend. “Sorry,” he apologized for his outburst. He couldn’t get the smile off his face.

  “Don’t be,” Mirerien assured him. “I feel it, too.”

  “They are very happy,” Eirae agreed.

  “You, too?” Pielere asked.

  “Not as str
ongly as you, if that goofy grin of yours is any indication. But yes, I do feel it, too. We should get everyone ready to move.”

  They opted to stay at the wall while they waited. Not knowing when the refugees would arrive, they had not wanted to waste supplies on a prolonged camp out at the foot of the mountains. Also, should the Cullers arrive first, they did not want to be caught by surprise, stranded away from reinforcements and drawing attention to their position. “If we hurry we can get everyone over here before . . .” he never finished his thought. The wall shook with a loud bang. They ran to the side to see what happened. Soldiers moved in all directions, yelling orders and assessing damage, a large chunk of stone was missing from the top of the parapet. A boulder the size of a man sat just inside the tree line, a path carved out where it landed.

  Pielere looked over the wall, but he saw no army, only a small bird in the sky. As he watched the black dot he thought to be a bird moved closer and grew larger. “Take cover,” he called. The wall shook again, this time from a much lower hit. Pielere felt the stone beneath his feet shift and sink, the stone falling to fill the hole left by the second boulder. A soldier moved and began to fall through as the stones shifted again. Pielere reached out, grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him out of the hole. Together, they crawled to a more stable portion of the wall. No spot was safe, however. Boulders continued to rain down on the city, destroying large segments of the wall and many of the buildings in the vicinity. Pielere felt fear, not his own and swung his gaze to the mountains. Boulders, like those hitting Suriax, pounded the mountainside. Stones fell all around the cave opening. In his mind, he heard the screams of frightened children. In that moment he could see the scene play out. He saw the uncertainty and confusion. Should they go back into the caves and face being buried alive or run out into the open and face the monsters now clearly visible over the horizon. Several of the children ran outside, too afraid of the falling rocks to listen to the adults who called them back, and the decision was made.

  Dodging boulders and soldiers, Pielere ran to the tower stairwell. Without a word, Mirerien and Eirae followed on his heels. They did not wait for their own troops, trusting their men to follow when they were able.

  Pielere ran full speed, keeping one eye on the children and one on the approaching mass. Dozens of people flowed out of the caves. They ran erratically, desperate to avoid the boulders, arrows and other weapons now being thrown their way. Out the corner of his eye, he saw a large shape of a man, easily towering two heads above the other Cullers, lift another massive boulder to throw their way. Taking two quick moments to pinpoint the projected landing in the midst of a cluster of children, Pielere ran to place himself directly in front of where the stone would hit and stabbed his sword into the ground, raising his arms high. The boulder slowed directly above his head, as though caught by an invisible net, and stopped mid-air a few feet above the heads of the children. Then it began to move again, this time back up like a sling shot into the Cullers, punching a nice sized hole in their ranks.

  The refugees stopped moving, out of shock. If only the Cullers would do the same. The show only excited them more. The barrage of rocks and arrows intensified. This time all the projectiles stopped still in the air and fell to the ground the moment they impacted Pielere’s protective barrier. Just when he thought his charges would remain still forever, Mirerien and Eirae caught up and gathered everyone behind him.

  “Nice trick,” Kern said in greeting. “Can you do that while moving?”

  “I do not believe so,” Pielere answered through clenched teeth, already feeling the strain on his impromptu wall.

  “How long do you think you will be able to keep it up?” Mirerien asked.

  “I do not know.”

  “Then we should get moving while we still have a small space between us and them,” Eirae reasoned. “The closer we get to the city, the closer we are to reinforcements.” Their soldiers ran to join them, but it would be a close race to determine who would get there first.

  “Save my children,” one woman cried. The other refugees joined in the request. Whatever happened to them, they wanted the children to make it to safety.

  Eirae looked around quickly, taking in the marenpaie hounds. There weren’t enough to carry everyone, but there should be enough to make a difference. “Load the children on the hounds.”

  The dwarf in the group moved immediately to comply, whispering to the beasts. Slapping each on the rear, he sent them off. They ran like bolts of lightening for the city. Eirae sighed. Whatever else may happen, the children would make it to the wall, and hopefully, safety. The way things were going, that was not a guarantee. “Let’s move,” he called.

  Pielere dropped his arms and grabbed his sword. With no further protection from long range attack, they ran.

  * * *

  Maerishka surveyed the damage and said a quick prayer of thanks it wasn’t worse, yet. Thanks to her earlier warnings, most people who lived and worked near the southern wall had temporarily relocated to farther north in the city. Otherwise, the death toll from that initial bombardment would have been much worse.

  With most of the raiders focused on the small band of refugees, the attacks on the city had paused. It wouldn’t be for long. Once the refugees were either safe or dead, attention would shift back to Suriax. Gathering everyone she could to patch the holes in the wall, she sent Alvexton to oversee the boats. He was better with comforting people. She was better with battle. Should the boats need to evacuate, he would see that her people were led to safety. It was her job to ensure that never became necessary. “Status?” she called.

  “Four large breaks, several smaller ones,” an unusually tall half elf answered. Maerishka recognized him as a lieutenant in the Royal Guard. His name was Camdon. He was some kind of descendant of the desert elves, if memory served. His olive skin tone and sand colored hair certainly supported that claim. “Only three reported casualties so far. Thirteen confirmed injuries severe enough to require healers. The clerics are currently treating the injured in order of severity.”

  “Good. See what shield spells we can get to strengthen the weak portions of the wall. Set up a kill box at any spot too damaged to repair or reinforce. I want our best burners to create a blue fire trap for any who get through. Station archers on all the roofs up to a block away from the wall, and have the mages put protection spells on everyone they can, priority on the melee fighters.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The man bowed and ran off to implement her commands. She heard a cheer of excitement and ran over to a group of smiling soldiers lifting children off the backs of Marenpaie hounds. The last hound came through the door being held open. Once inside, the door was closed immediately and bolted tight. The children clung tightly to the soldiers who held them. One ran over to Maerishka and would have hugged her legs if not for the timely intervention of a royal guard who scooped up the little girl. Maerishka nodded her head in thanks. She had no desire to burn the child with her heat.

  The wall shook from renewed hits. “Have the children taken to the docks,” she commanded. The sounds of battle grew closer. Grabbing on to a rope ladder on the wall, Maerishka climbed. Being on the wall was not the safest place to be, but she needed to see what was happening out there. She made it to the top and ducked to avoid a rock flying just overhead. The remaining refugees ran, besieged by the outer bands of the Culler army. For there was no more denying who they faced.

  Monsters covered in glints of metal pulled carts filled to the brim with boulders from the foothills of the mountains. Huge men, easily over eight feet in height and some nearly the same size in width, hurdled the boulders forward, having little difficulty throwing them the great distance. The men screamed and called out in excitement and battle fervor, crazed movements that belied no sense of care for the arrows striking down their comrades. They were not even hampered by the lack of limbs which afflicted a great number of them. They fought with swords attached to stumps and wooden legs embedded with enough
spikes to mirror a mace.

  Alerian troops fought and fell. Shining blue weapons and flares of magic were visible from her team. But there was only so much they could do to fight while running full speed to the wall. Without help, they stood a poor chance of making it. “Archers, and long range casters, give them support,” she called. “Let us give them some breathing room.”

  The relief was instantaneous. Only kill shots made a difference. Lesser hits did not slow the monsters, but her people were skilled. Maerishka felt the wind from another boulder flying past and turned her attention back to the center of the approaching army. While many were running to intercept the refugees, others travelled at a more controlled pace in a direct line to the city. The mass of fighters, at first compact, now fanned out into a great black shadow. Sunlight glinted off metal shards and blades protruding from their bodies. They stretched out further, and she saw they meant to attack the entire wall at once. There would be no focusing on single spots of entry they could exploit. They intended to tear down the entire wall. And in that moment, she thought they could do it.

  Fire burned in her chest, and she felt her fear melt into it. Removing her gloves, she tossed them to the ground. Fire sprung from her fingers. Concentrating, she made the flames swirl into a giant mass of blue and white heat. Her hair rose from the kinetic energy it generated. Taking a breath, she sent the ball flying into the mass of men. Without pause, she made another, then another, throwing fire like they threw boulders. Every ball took out three to four of them. It was not much, but it was the best she could do at this distance.

  She continued her attack, encouraged by every man she saw reduced to ash. Drawn by the spectacle of her power, all but a few handfuls of men dropped their pursuit on the refugees. They were focused on her, now. Boulders hit the walls around her. She laughed at their inability to hit her directly until she realized their strategy. Her men called out a warning. It came too late. All at once the stone disappeared from under her feet. She fell through the rubble. Jagged rocks fell in all around her. She felt their weight on top of her. Small rays of light barely penetrated into the darkness.