Balance of the 12

by Ania Bo

  “That we will,” Zeorgan replied. “However, retrieving the Regenerator is our first priority. If Amel finds herself in possession of the Regenerator’s child, we’ll have much bigger things to worry about.”

  “But as long as the human race is not destroyed, the baby will not be born. We won’t even have to worry about the Chancellor capturing the Regenerator’s baby,” Violen added.

  Zeus gave her a weak smile. “As long as the humans are not destroyed? If the outcome of this war only results in the destruction of humans, we should consider ourselves lucky. As it stands, we are surrounded by the Jatuk, the Tholen, the Dvay, and the Readers. We might as well be a worm skewered on a hook, and we may find that more than one baby will be born at war’s end.”

  “Then perhaps you should turn over the human race to the Dvay and end this war.” Violen’s eyes widened at Zeorgan’s suggestion.

  Zeus stood in a rage. “I’d rather die on the field of battle than hand over the humans. I may be seen as a ruthless ruler, but the people that make up the human race are my children, my family. I will fight for them even if I must fight by myself.”

  Zeorgan approached Zeus, noticeably relieved. “Then, my old friend, form two fronts to prevent them from encircling you. Try to hold them off for as long as you can. The Zaends plan to face Amel on her own turf. As soon as we end her, we will come to your aid. You must hold on till we come. Can you do that?”

  Zeus gave a wide grin upon hearing this. “I am the Lord of Olym, I am Zeus, of course, we will hold on till the last one of us dies. With you, I am certain we will win this war and protect the Balance.” He embraced Zeorgan. “I trust Lucidum and you. If you say this is the path we must take, the Olym will see to it that it is done. But there is much to prepare for now, and I must brief my commanders and my allies before the battle begins. Hopefully, we may all celebrate our victory in the streets of Atlantis.” He turned to Violen and acknowledged her with a bow of his head. “May the Balance be with you, Reader.”

  Zeus was about to exit the tent so he could gather together his commanders when Violen spoke. “My lord, if I may make a request.” Zeus appeared slightly agitated, but he signaled her to speak. “The thing is...since we’re here, I would like to see the Protector’s father if he is with the human army. I have an important message to pass on to him.”

  “Now?” Zeorgan exclaimed.

  “There may be no other time,” she said, the meaning of her words clear to all. “We owe this to Dwade.”

  Zeorgan looked into the eyes of the young commander. However urgent their current situation was, it would not postpone her love and respect to Dwade. Not having any choice, he nodded. Zeus, who was by now concerned more with his own affairs than theirs, called for his guards. “Take our guests to the camping site of our human troops. There is someone they need to find.”

  “By your command,” the guard answered, and Violen and Zeorgan quickly followed him out of the tent. They were forced to navigate through the Ilih army in order to reach the humans. The dwarf-like Ilih were dressed in their war attire made from the scales of dragons. Just before spring, when the dragons began venturing out of their winter haunts, they would shed their scales as newer, stronger replacements took their place. The Ilihs, who were very crafty people, would wait for nightfall when dragons often hunted and would collect any scales they found near the dragons’ lairs. They would forge the scales into armor, and those who fought against the Ilih would find it quite difficult to penetrate through the thick plates with even the sharpest sword.

  The Ilih soldiers were full of high spirits as though they attended a party and not a battle, and they reminded Violen of the Zaend people and their celebratory feast. Does everyone on this earth find delight in death? Her thoughts turned back to Dwade, and she found it difficult to smile back at the Ilih soldiers who greeted them with enthusiastic waves and words of encouragement.

  Scattered among the Ilih’s tents, Violen spotted a rare sight. The people of Thae had left the comfort of the seas and answered Zeus’ call to arms. These people of the water were rarely seen on dry land, and Violen couldn’t help but stop to get a look at them. Each Thae walked upright on three legs that served a similar purpose as a fin when they swam through the ocean. All their toes and fingers were webbed, and their ears were like large conch shells that were necessary for them to perform echolocation. The skin of each Thae varied in color, but it was made of up tiny scales that glistened, giving the illusion they had just stepped out of the water, and they all lacked eyebrows. Although the Thaes all shared similar characteristics, they were as different and diverse as the fish that lived within the sea.

  Some of the Thae held up their spears in greeting as Violen stared, and Zeorgan was forced to drag her away so they could continue their search for Dwade’s father.

  Having now passed through the Ilih army and the Thae, they turned right to where the humans were camped. The difference between the previous armies and the human encampment was immediately obvious. The humans were less protected as they wore armor made from animal skins, easily penetrated by even the dullest hunting knife. Around the long tables they had set up, men engaged in heated conversations and tried to hide the fear that shrouded their souls.

  “Look at them,” Zeorgan said to Violen. “Most of the men here are past the age of fifty and should be tending to their cows, not their swords.”

  The soldier who escorted them looked back to answer Zeorgan. “That’s the way of the humans. When there’s an emergency, they do not hesitate to come together, the young and old.” Turning to Violen, he asked, “What is the name of the person you’re looking for?”

  “I don’t know his name.” She inwardly scolded herself for not asking Dwade before they left. “All I know is he is the father of Dwade. They’re both from a small human village in the mountains.”

  The soldier frowned as he knew it would be impossible to find one man out of so many.

  Violen saw the soldier was struggling. “Don’t worry. We can find him from here,” she said so he didn’t have to waste his time searching.

  “Among one million humans? Good luck, I have to go back.” The soldier scoffed as he left them to continue alone.

  Zeorgan also looked at Violen hopelessly, and he wished the Reader would give up this foolish task so they could hurry on to Atlantis.

  But Violen was not close to giving up. She walked on for a while then squatted on the ground. She placed her right hand on the soil and closed her eyes. Her eyes moved rapidly beneath the lids. She rose suddenly, pointed to the left and said, “This way.”

  They weaved through the many tents, attempting not to step on any of the belongings scattered on the ground. The human soldiers watched the two strangers closely as they moved through their ranks.

  She once more knelt, put her right hand on the ground and started moving to their left as she straightened. After twenty more paces, she stopped to look around. “He should be here somewhere,” she muttered, but there was no one around, only tents. She hurried into the tent on her right. A group of soldiers was talking inside, but none of them resembled Dwade’s father. The soldiers looked at her quizzically, and Violen apologized and backed out of the tent, bumping into a frustrated Zeorgan in the process. She entered the tent to her left, but this one was empty. She pulled back the flaps of the dwelling in disappointment.

  “Give it up, Violen. We’re wasting time here. We could have already been on our way to Atlantis. How would you recognize him anyway?”

  “I know what he looks like, I even know how he smells. He’s here. I feel it. Just let me search a little longer. I know I can find Dwade’s father.”

  “Did you say Dwade?” a strong voice came from behind them, and Violen whipped around to see who had spoken. Just three tents down, a man around forty-five years old came out to greet them.

  “Yes, sir, I did. I’ve been searching for you.” Violen’s eyes shone out of relief.

  “For me? Wait, I know you. You’
re the one who took him away.” The man looked around frantically. “Where is my son?”

  Violen saw the hurt in his eyes and realized this was going to be harder than she first thought. “Dwade is not here. He is after the Regenerator to realize his destiny. I came here so you may send a message to your son once I reunite with him in Atlantis.”

  The man’s happiness reflected in his eyes, but there was also something else Violen couldn’t quite place. “Of course, I’d like that very much. Please tell him how proud I am of him. His mother and sister miss him very much, and of course, so do I. As a father, I could not have asked for a better son. We will love him forever…whatever might happen.” He gave a sad smile, and Violen couldn’t help but smile too. “Tell him also that Lillian lost a tooth. She’s placed it under her pillow and says she can’t wait to show her brother how much she’s grown. And his mother, she…she’s dried the meat for the winter, and they have plenty to eat.”

  There were tears in his eyes, and Violen reached for his hands to try and give him some comfort, but once they touched, Violen’s eyes closed and a vision along with a burst of raw emotion overtook her.

  The small mountain village that Dwade called home was swallowed by flames, the fire lighting up what should have been a dark, peaceful night. Violen heard the crackling wood and smelt the black smoke as the cabins burned to the ground. There were screams as men, women, and children fled from their burning homes only to find themselves face to face with the Dvays who killed the villagers without mercy. The men with their axes and pitchforks were no match for the Dvay warriors, and any who attempted to get in their way were slaughtered.

  Dwade’s father stood motionless before the cabin where Violen had first met the Protector. The fire had already done its work here as the house was charred and black. His whole body shook as he stared at the debris that was once his home, and he clenched the ax in his hand tighter before he turned and raced toward the forest, disappearing into the darkness and leaving the light of the flames behind.

  Violen returned to the present as Dwade’s father yanked his hands away, realizing what had happened. He then took Violen’s face, pulled her towards him slowly, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Please convey my love to my son. Tell him his mother and sister await his return.” He gave her a long stare and Violen nodded with understanding.

  For the first time in her life, Violen allowed her tears to flow from sadness. She was deeply affected by the intense love this father had for his son. It was the first time she felt a love so powerful and so pure.

  Zeorgan was waiting for her to finish some distance away, and she knew she had already spent too much time here. “I must go,” she said. “Please take care of yourself. I promise I will protect your son. Even if I must die with him, I will never leave him.”

  Dwade’s father wiped away his tears. “Thank you.”

  The tearful Reader walked straight past Zeorgan to hide her wet face. “We can leave now.” Picking up the pace, they made their way back to where they had left Zeorgan’s dragon. When the great animal saw its companion, it rose from the field and landed softly at Zeorgan’s side, nuzzling its great head against his face. The Olym soldiers looked at the strange pair with obvious trepidation. A Zaend dragon was not an animal they would ever consider snuggling with.

  Just as Zeorgan was helping Violen up onto the dragon, a loud war horn sounded, and a runner sprinted through the fields headed toward Zeus’ tent. With just a look, Zeorgan and Violen agreed they should find out what was happening before leaving for Atlantis.

  The guards were no longer outside Zeus’ tent, and Violen and Zeorgan let themselves in. They entered right in the middle of the scout’s message.

  “—and they’ve already begun marching. We spotted them too late. They should be here within the hour,” said one of Zeus’ messenger.

  “But our intelligence stated the Dvay wouldn’t attack until tomorrow morning,” Tellervo, the commander of the Baresm, said.

  “With all due respect,” said the messenger, “it no longer matters. We saw the Dvay marching this way with our own eyes.”

  “There is no time for questions or speculation. We must ready ourselves for battle, or we can let them slaughter us while we battle amongst ourselves,” Zeus said. The commanders agreed and left to ready their respective armies while Zeorgan approached Zeus.

  “We will stay here and fight by your side. You have the support of the Zaend people,” Zeorgan said, knowing they couldn’t leave, not like this.

  Violen stepped forward. “And I will fight with you as well. Maybe I can be of help if the Readers do turn.”

  “No,” Zeus said sternly. “We cannot risk you dying in battle. Your place is not here but in Atlantis. If Amel succeeds in obtaining the Regenerator’s child, this battle will be all for naught. Fly, my friends, and bring the battle to her.”

  Zeorgan found it difficult to accept Zeus’ command, but he complied. The Olym leader was right. Their place was in Atlantis. “May the Balance guide you through this mess Amel has made,” Zeorgan said in response.

  “And same to you,” Zeus replied.

  Seeing this as their cue to leave, Zeorgan and Violen exited the tent and mounted Zeorgan’s dragon once again. The winged monster gave a push with his hind legs, and they found themselves back in the air. Once they had flown high enough to be out of range of an arrow or any other projectile, Zeorgan had the dragon stop and face the oncoming battle.

  The horns of the Tholen sounded, initiating the beginning of the battle. The infantry units were moving into place. Zeus and his allies lined up in preparation. Zeus decided to leave more Kree and Dvay—those still loyal to Cizan—between himself and the Readers. The King of the Dvay and the King of the Kree stood at the back to lead them. Zeus rode his horse among the human cavalry, and Tellervo stood next to him. In the middle of the ranks stood Poseidon, Raiju, and Medusa. Interestingly, the Readers stood at the back near Ares and Leo with their commander, Kelleph, the Reader commander. It was clear Zeus wanted to keep Kelleph in a less than ideal position if Zeorgan’s warning turned out to be true.

  On the other side of the valley, the opposing army was led by the Jatuk and the Tholen with Hoglem and his Dvay troops bringing up the rear.

  The horns blew, and drums beat on both sides to signal the armies had taken their positions. The Dvay’s drums and tambourines synchronized with Zeus’ horns creating an oddly impressive montage. Upon the hill, the Jatuk loaded giant stones onto their catapults, while the humans did the same, dousing them in a dark substance they set on fire.

  The forward cavalry readied their lances. With the horns blowing one last time, Zeus along with all the other leaders lifted their swords in the air. Just as Zeorgan predicted, the Readers, led by Kelleph, turned on their allies, but the Kree and Cizan’s Dvays were already prepared to face them, causing Kelleph and his army to stall. With Kelleph’s element of surprise gone, the Kree made quick work of the Readers. They attacked with their animal counterparts—lions, tigers, mammoths, dragons, snakes at the size of three men. The animals tore the Readers apart or crushed them with their feet. Violen was happy to see the Readers hadn’t figure out how to control animals yet. But immediately she realized they were her friends being slaughtered on the battlefield. She only let herself fill sadness for a heartbeat then relief washed over her that they made it in time to warn Zeus, but she could barely watch as her friends were killed before her eyes. She closed her eyes and turned her head away.

  Even with the Kree’s victory, the Dvay were a force to be reckoned with. They fought with neither swords nor axes. Instead, they approached their victims, and with their mouths opened wide, they sucked the life force out of them and left their bodies shriveled and dry. Still, Zeus’ army and his allies seemed to be winning.

  In a move no one expected, Cizan grew to twice his normal size and held his arms apart. When he lifted his hands as though pulling something out of the ground, a portion of the Readers’ army withere
d away like dry flowers. Medusa attacked without remorse. Her serpents struck out at anyone who came close enough, injecting them with deadly venom, and those who looked upon her face turned to stone. However, the Readers had not given up the fight. Because their ability to control the mind did not work against the Kree or the Dvay, they were forced to fight like humans. They tried to kill the Kree beasts with their advanced weapons. They were not enjoying as much success but still had the advantage of numbers.

  On the other flank, Zeus had lifted his sword in the air, and when he brought it down, the horsemen charged. Just as they neared the enemy, Zeus lifted his sword again, and the whole unit came to a halt. Not understanding their strategy, the Jatuk and Tholen rushed toward them, and a great pit of flame opened just before the human unit. Those enemy soldiers who were on or near the trap fell into it, causing the humans to cheer.

  The Jatuks fired their catapults in a panic, and the large stones smashed into the human army, causing a great number of casualties. When Zeus brought his sword down again, the trap closed, and the human cavalry resumed their charge.

  As the two armies clashed, Zeus took out his Hikar sword, swiping at the enemy from his stallion. The Hikar troops followed right behind, and they attacked in the form of searing hot lightning bolts, charred remains, all that was left of those they landed on.

  Violen was very pleased with what she saw. Zeus’ superior strategic abilities would win them the time necessary to reach Atlantis and deal with the Chancellor. She now had greater hope they would be able to save the humans. For a moment, she forgot she was on her way to fight her own people. It would be much more difficult than watching the battle from a dragon high up in the skies.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  While Violen and Zeorgan were in the Utsuhapok warning Zeus, the Zaends were trying hard to complete their preparations for the battle. The armory was cleaned out, and those able to fight were assigned a dragon. Five Zaends could fit comfortably on one beast, and the sky soon filled with the winged monsters as they readied themselves for their departure.