by Mussie Haile
Sinto could hear very little. It was like the entire environment was covered with a heavy blanket of wool. Everything was muffled except for the ringing sound in his ears.
What had just happened? He asked himself as he struggled to get to his feet. His arms gave and he fell back to the ground. Suddenly someone hurried to his side and grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Sinto! Sinto? Can you hear me?”
“What?” Sinto said, straining to ascertain who was calling him.
He turned and stared at the face of the person. It took him a while before he realized who it was.
“Tabeli?” he asked.
“Praise be to Camin and Lowus,” Tabeli exclaimed.
“What is going on?”
“I don’t have the answer to that right now,” Tabeli said pulling Sinto up to his feet. “All I know is, the humans had fired explosives at us. Much like what we tried to hurl at them, but much prettier.”
Sinto groaned.
“I think I may have a few broken bones,” he said.
Tabeli looked at his leader. His eyes took at the end of broken bones sticking out of his arm, and the blood all over his side. While the robes they wore protected them to a certain degree from lethal magic, it did not protect them from natural reactions that the magic had kicked up. Like the impact of its explosion, and the debris.
“It’s nothing that a healer can’t fix,” Tabeli replied.
As Sinto moved along with Tabeli, his senses began to get clearer, and he began to feel his body liven with pain.
“How bad do I look?” he gasped.
Tabeli simply stared back at him and he got the message. Sinto closed his eyes about to mutter an energy spell, but Tabeli stopped him.
“You don’t have enough strength as it is. You need all you’ve got to be able to go through the healing process, which is going to be very hurried so you can join us on the battlefield. Skimming off the little you have could turn out ugly.”
Sinto sighed. Everywhere was enshrouded in a cloud of dust. He could hear voices of the soldiers scampering about trying to rally help for some people. It seemed that those who were at the front had it worse. It was then that Sinto remembered the King.
“What about the King?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about him,” Tabeli said. “He’s way better off than you. Thanks to that crazy dark mage, Lord Taboon.”
Sinto sighed with relief. No one could be trusted more with Henok’s protection than Lord Taboon, Henok was his special responsibility.
Then from nowhere another thought dropped into his head. If the Tonarians had been able to scatter us with their explosions, then why weren’t they attacking?
Then it hit him.
“Mages on me!” he yelled suddenly. “Take positions and make a shield spell!”
Already in the sky, more of the little stary things were flying towards them.
Mosael stood on the rampart and watched with scrutiny as the forward formation of the Middle Kingdom‘s army was demolished.
Fools, he thought.
As general of Tonar’s armed forces, Mosael had seen to it that everything had been planned to the slightest detail, way before he had gotten wind of the Middle Kingdom’s movements. He had gone up to his king and asked for the security around the city to be tightened. Toas was falling apart. Chaos was coming. The human magicians at the court where the being of Balance and Chaos was trained had sent word that the being of Balance and Chaos had escaped, plunging the entire Toas into inevitable doom. Mosael, having spent thirty years of his life defending Tonar and the throne, was determined to see Tonar through these perilous times.
The king of Tonar was old, and in ailing health, but the Prince, though considerably young, was equal to the task, and aided his father in the running of Tonar’s affairs. Mosael was his godfather, and a trusted hand to the throne, so it was easy for both of them to consort with each other on how the kingdom was to be run.
While it was true that Tonar had enjoyed peace for a lengthy number of years they had not seen a major battle throughout the lifetime of the current king’s father – Mosael did not subscribe to the idea of relaxing during a time of peace. He drilled the soldiers like they had an impending battle. Left for him, the battle was something that could spring upon them without warning, given their geographical location. To the north, they had the Berserkers and the Middle Kingdom to the west. Both lands were filled with people who were far more powerful, because of their magical abilities. There were a few magicians among the humans. But in a bitter exchange, they would not be able to hold their own and protect the entire kingdom at the same time. Desperate to have Tonar strong enough to resist the neighbouring kingdoms should the need arise, Mosael paid a visit to the king and his son and proposed a pact with the Technocons.
“Indeed, we’re largely without magic,” he said. “That fact alone makes us weak. No matter how courageous and skilled our men are in combat, we will never be able to survive a face-off with an army of magic users.”
“What do you suggest?” the King croaked.
“That we have a trade treaty with the Technocons.”
“Why the Technocons?” The prince had asked. “We could create an alliance with Berserkers?”
“Allying ourselves with them is not trustworthy,” Mosael replied. “And it will not be an equal partnership on our side. And you know that. A trade deal with the Technocons will offer us magic of our own, and then we will be able to hold out against any foe, magic or no.”
The King and the Prince did not say a word, so Mosael assumed that was his go-ahead.
“To make a trade deal, we’ll have to have something to trade.” The Prince said.
“We have ore,” Mosael replied. “The Technocons often use ore to make their technology.”
The King looked at his son. He did not need his permission; it was more a gesture. The Prince nodded back. Mosael was more trusted. He was the exit strategy when everything went crazy. “You have my blessing, then.” The King informed him. Mosael nodded and walked away with fast steps.
He started the conversation immediately. Making the trade deal with the Technocons had gone relatively easy. The Technocons had the knack for tipping over in favor of people they deemed weak and almost helpless. They wanted to keep the balance. And in a place like Toas, where magic ran deep to the roots, the humans of Tonar were the weakest. But the technology was not the only thing Tonar got when they made the deal. They also got a warning to be wary of the Middle Kingdom.
About a week later, Mosael got word from his spies that they saw an unusually large movement of soldiers and weapons. It was unknown at the time if they were planning on attack on Tonar, but Mosael had geared the soldiers up for battle all the same. Until some days later when it became clear that the Middle Kingdom was planning an attack on them. But that was their undoing, and all the opportunity he needed to turn the tide in his favor. They would think they had the element of surprise, and they would try to utilize it to the fullest, unknown to them that Tonar was waiting like a lioness stalking its prey while lying low beneath the cover of grass. Technocon had outfitted Tonar with such an array of gadgets to turn the prey into a hunter in no time.
Before the attack, Mosael had had his men plant gadgets in the trees that would detect any movement and report it to a magic screen that he held in his palm. And as he had expected, the reports came. These gadgets obeyed no gods and exposed the nature of the technocons as being similar to those of the humans of Tonar who would rebel at the gods at any chance they got. He did not know how many the soldiers were – the gadgets did not reveal that. But he knew that Middle would leave no stone unturned.
He had turned to his men then, knowing that things would get ugly real fast, and ordered:
“Get the shield up!”
There were rod-like devices fixed to the ground at strategi
c points all around the rampart. The soldiers went about activating each of them. Upon activation, the rods emitted a low whine, and then a spear of light shot out from its tip into the air. With all the rods spitting out the light, they converged together, and then a shield began to grow from their point of convergence until the entire sky over Toas was covered. Once that was done, the shield lost its luminousness, and became invisible. From somewhere behind the fence, a low hum permeated the atmosphere, the source of the energy.
Mosael’s intuition to pull up the shields had been right because not long after, a lieutenant had run to him.
“General,” the lieutenant said, “They’ve launched the catapults, and the projectiles are covered in magic fire.”
Mosael trusted the Technocons technology to do the needful, but he realized that he was not the only person here. He had an entire army under his command, and his duty, aside from commanding them, was to see to their safety. Even if they were to die, it should be for something worth their lives.
“Order the first wave to step off the rampart,” he told the lieutenant.
And then the darkness of the dawn was suddenly filled with a bright red. He saw the projectiles hurtling straight towards the city. Watching them hurry towards impact, instilled a sliver of uncertainty in Mosael. He began to move back a little but was too late.
The projectiles had come too close. Then they exploded, and he cringed and shut his eyes, expecting a rain of fire and pain on his body. And when he felt nothing, he opened his eyes just in time to see shrapnel from the explosion tumble off the shield. He smiled. This was exactly what the Technocons told him would happen. All of this at the cost of nothing except an alliance.
When the next wave of projectiles came, he stood close to the edge of the wall and watched them come. He was unafraid.
And now, a taste of your own medicine! he had thought.
He ordered his men to fire the missiles – miniature forms of cannonballs, but with much more explosive power. He had watched the first wave of missiles scatter the attacking army’s impressive front, and now he was watching it scatter them again.
One thing that had dogged him all his life as a soldier was his intuition; his uncanny ability to feel things within his bones. Now his bones were telling him that now was the right moment to attack, under the cover of dust and debris that the explosions had racked up.
He called up the colonel in charge of the first battalion.
“I need you to take your troops and make a head-on charge at the army, now that they are in a state of disarray.”
“Yes sir,” the colonel said and walked out.
Mosael gave the order for the gates to be lifted, and watched as the first battalion, consisting of brigades of horse soldiers and footmen, charged towards the battlefield.
That’s just to keep you company, he thought. Tonar welcomes you with open arms.
Thanks to Sinto’s warning, the mages were able to rally around and cast a shield spell that lessened the effects of the projectiles, but some soldiers were still caught in the explosions, but not as much as the first series.
Lord Taboon had performed a teleportation spell, ferrying Henok away in mid-air. Thus, saving the king from the pain of broken bones. Now, the King was deep within the ranks of his elite squad, surrounded by the fastest, most bloodthirsty and efficient soldiers in Toas. Going for the head of the king of the Middle Kingdom now would be a capital suicide statement.
Sinto was still gritting his teeth from the pain of getting his wounds healed when he heard a chaotic yelling rise among the ranks of the soldiers. It was the first horseman running towards where he sat at a tree with the hands of a healer hovering over his arm that told him that they were in deep trouble.
“Incoming!” Senay yelled, as the first wave of Tonar soldiers went through their confused ranks and began wreaking havoc immediately.
Sinto was in too much pain to react quickly, and the horseman would have impaled him to the tree had it not been for the healer kneeling in front of him. The spear passed through the healer’s throat, spilling blood on Sinto’s face. Sinto used the opportunity to cast a spell.
“Touerneya zechai!” he yelled, flinging his arm towards the horseman.
In an instant, the horseman and the horse went up in flames, and they went barrelling through the forest, a horrific duet of neighing and screaming.
Sinto was still weak but he had enough strength to work a little magic. The magic he was about to perform was dark – but he was left with few options. He could not lie around, close to helpless, while he waited for a healer. He rolled to his side and placed his hand on the tree, as he whispered the words:
“Ohm sab hagez,” the huge tree shrank. Sinto’s wounds healed synchronously. His strength began to replenish, until he was not just back to himself but felt stronger, at which point the entire tree died.
He got to his feet. He had only walked a few feet before he was met by Tabeli and the rest of the guard.
“We thought you would have left us by now,” Tabeli said.
“Ah, trust me. It’s going to take more than a horseman and a spear to steal me away.”
“We’re glad you’re back to us,” Tabeli said. “The battle is fierce. Our skills are needed, as the Warriors of the Middle Kingdom face the human soldiers who have an upper hand, courtesy of the damnable technocons technology!”
Sinto looked at the faces of his guards. This was not the first war they had been in, but Tonar had sprung them a surprise and seemed to be making the most of it. He needed to be sure that his soldiers were ready. The steely glares he received filled him with assurance just as well as it did fear. Whatever ritual Lord Taboon had taken them through to replenish their strength left them looking bereft of any human compassion or feeling.
The sound of footsteps approaching them told Sinto that he would have to save his worries for another time.
“Guards on me!” Sinto yelled.
Out on the plains before Tonar, the smell of magic burnt the air, the runes on their robes blazed, as did their swords as they engaged the incoming horsemen in battle, slicing with their swords, and killing with spells.
The battlefield was pure, unbridled, chaos. A blend of the Middle’s magic, and Tonar’s newly acquired technology. Mosael was not liking the way the battle was going. It seemed like the Middle Kingdom was beginning to gain the upper hand, but it was not just from their soldiers, but their magicians as well.
“Damned magicians,” he cussed.
However, the battle had not reached Tonar, it was still being contained within the forest. And that was the only thing that pleased Mosael. But he knew that he could not just keep sending men out like fodder to engage the enemy in battle and stall them in the same position. He needed a powerful move. Something that, if it did not make them win, would put the army of the Middle Kingdom on the retreat. And then it hit him. He did not need a complex strategy. He already commanded the attention of the enemy on one front. All of them, due to being surprised was focusing the entirety of their energy towards repelling the attack from the front and gaining an advantage. This one-sidedness in their focus was what was going to be their downfall.
Turning, Mosael called to his right-hand colonel, who was also his daughter. She had risen to this position only by pure merit. Mosael was happy that she was every bit the soldier he was and more.
“I need you to get me the colonel in charge of the para-troops,” he said.
His daughter looked at him with steely eyes, devoid of any feelings that reflected the kinship they shared, but full of duty and loyalty.
“Yes, sir,” she said and walked off the rampant to deliver his summons.
Mosael looked back to the battlefield. Use your magic all you want, he thought. But today you will feel the might of Tonar!
Lord Taboon was having one of the best times he had ever had practicing dar
k magic in the many years he had lived. He was wreaking untold horror on the battlefield, and his students were doing the same.
A few of them had died though.
They were skilled, but not skilled enough to handle a swarm of soldiers. Lord Taboon was hemmed in by a circle of horsemen, who kept on firing those little stars at him. His defense shield was holding so far. The stars would speed towards him but explode in an intense cloud of fire blanketing him, and covering the horsemen from his vision. He saw one of his students work black magic on one of the horsemen, causing him to bloat until he burst in an explosion of blood, organs, and bone. But the student was too focused on killing that he did not see another horseman in his back until it was too late.
The horsemen threw a spear...
Straight through the back of his student’s neck. Lord Taboon was not too bothered about one loss. Hadn’t Lord Taboon given them an opportunity of a lifetime? He had told his students that death awaited them, but they would get the chance to practice their magic as they saw fit. Now, all he had to do was find a way to extricate himself from this circle. The spell he was about to chant was one of the most powerful that he had ever done, and having to do it while keeping up his shield was going to be the trickiest part.
Lord Taboon began to chant, in harsh growling sounds. They were magic words from ancient orc lore. Too powerful and dangerous to meddle with that as he sang the words in harsh sputtering growls, and the air around him began to get dry and hot as life was drawn out from it. The horses began to grow restless, and so did the soldiers. Rather than run for their lives, they charged; all of them, at once. And that was their mistake. Probably the last mistake they would ever make. With their spears poised, and the tips glowing with energy, the human soldiers drew ever so closely to Lord Taboon. The words began to drop from his mouth quickly now, and then his eyes grew red – starting from the irises and then onto the whites. But the redness did not stop there. It branched into the skin surrounding his eyes like little red veins. The soldiers were a few feet away from him when a wave of red burst out from Lord Taboon slammed into them. It caught them, like in the teeth of a trap, and they floated in the air, struggling in terror. Lord Taboon let the shield around him fade, and then he stepped into the open, staring at the circle of floating soldiers and horses as they fought against the hold of his magic. Letting out a menacing smile, he opened his mouth, and then the red wall holding them intensified in color. The soldiers and horses began to scream and thrash. They screamed even when beams of red light poured out from their eyes, nostrils, mouth, and ears, and flowed into Lord Taboon’s body. Lord Taboon trembled as all the beams entered him...
