The Heroes Fall -1- When War Calls

by Zy Rykoa

  Tyral coughed, ‘Answer me!’

  Kobin seemed slightly surprised and said simply, ‘I have done what was necessary.’

  Tyral pointed with an open hand, ‘This? This is what was necessary? They are our people! They are the innocent! We are meant to protect them!’

  Kobin shook his head in disappointment, ‘We are not Daijuarn, friend, we have only ourselves to protect, and our way of life.’

  ‘This is our way of life!’

  Tyral’s words were barely heard as jets screamed over their heads, bombs lighting up the valley as they unleashed their deadly load.

  ‘How could you have done this?’ Tyral yelled. ‘I trusted you. We all trusted you! You’re a monster!’

  ‘This is what we wanted,’ Kobin said calmly.

  ‘This is madness! My family ...’

  ‘No, friend,’ Kobin interrupted, ‘it is an end to weakness that will give rise to strength.’

  Several tanks and other ground vehicles were passing by on the trail, more reinforcements for what was about to come a full-scale assault. The last of the line came to a halt as it passed the men and a soldier called out to them, ‘Everything under control, sir?’

  Kobin turned to him, ‘On your way, soldier.’

  ‘Your command, sir,’ he said, and continued with the unit.

  Tyral became lost for words. The soldier had addressed Kobin as “sir”. He was an authority to these men. It had been this way all along. The military force was never coming to protect Callibra as Kobin had promised. They were never interested in the well-being of those who desired peace. They didn’t care for the natural habitat as they preached. They wanted land for their war efforts. They wanted a base from which to operate their offensive strikes against the United Resistance.

  It had all been a lie. One giant, horrible lie.

  Kobin had betrayed him and their people. He had allowed this military force to recruit the best of the village, and then he had authorised its destruction for political gain. He had used Tyral to gain credibility with the others from Callibra, as they knew they could trust him to do the right thing. And now they were all going to die for it.

  Tyral clenched his fists, one firmly holding onto the staff. All these years they had travelled together, all the hardships they had shared, every time he had saved Kobin’s life, repaid with this. He could not bear the thought. He felt helpless, pitiful and alone.

  It was all coming to an end.

  He could do nothing to stop it.

  ‘Do you not see?’ Kobin took a step closer as if to console Tyral, ‘this is what we dreamed ... a new beginning, where we dictate the terms to the world. We now have an army at our bidding. I will rule the Alliance some day. Their leaders are weak and pathetic men. They will bow to me. With you as my right hand, we will conquer their cities.’

  ‘You have betrayed us.’

  ‘No. Embrace this future with me, friend, it is the way!’

  ‘No friend of mine,’ mumbled Tyral.

  ‘What?’

  Tyral’s eyes were cold with hate and yet hot with rage, but Kobin’s features were gentle, masking the darkness of his own eyes. This was his way, Tyral realised, a false and evil charm often used to intimidate people into submission. It was how Tyral had agreed to the plans in the first place and overlooked all of the warning signs of Kobin’s true intentions.

  ‘Be at peace, friend, let them go, they were peasants compared to—’

  Before Kobin had finished, he let out an agonised scream. He fell backward several paces, looking up in confusion at Tyral, who was now holding a knife high in one hand, his staff on the ground beside him. Kobin then felt the wetness seeping from his shoulder and touched it with his hand, confirming it to be his blood.

  ‘Traitor!’ Tyral yelled and rushed forward with the knife ready for another strike.

  Kobin caught the knife with his good hand and the two became locked. They had been of equal strength for as long as they had known one another, both unable to best the other in combat, but now Tyral was ill and Kobin had suffered a fresh and deep wound to his left shoulder. Even with the wound, Tyral would soon be at Kobin’s mercy, but he fought on, knowing his rage could make them equal once more.

  Kobin would not let it be. With a kick to Tyral’s legs, he managed to trip his opponent and make a powerful hit to his back, causing him to fall over. The knife skipped away from them as Tyral slid across the ground. Almost instantly he was on his feet again, making a second charge at Kobin. Kobin had no defence except to fall back with the force, and the two wrestled on the trail they had walked for so many years together.

  Their limbs were flying wildly with very little contact being made for several minutes. Tyral then managed a hit that broke Kobin’s nose, but it had opened up Tyral’s guard around his stomach, allowing Kobin to kick hard and get away from Tyral. Tyral got onto his knees, winded and unable to stand. Kobin felt the blood seeping from his nose and put a cloth to it to stop the flow and he stood watching Tyral trying to stand back up. Both men were fatigued, trying to catch their breath, but even with the new injuries, it was clear Tyral was suffering most.

  It seemed likely he would concede defeat, as there was not much point in going on. The only reason he had fought was in an attempt to bring justice against the one that had betrayed him and his people. The man with dark, sunken eyes, the most evil being he had ever met, had won by any account. No matter the outcome now, Tyral had lost.

  Another wave of fighter jets approached; a second strike was imminent. They would bomb the village until there was nothing left, its people trapped by the forces moving in from the one access point to the valley.

  Tyral had failed.

  All his time spent away from his family to ensure their safety, and still this was their fate.

  He couldn’t just let Kobin go free for this. He couldn’t let him live when so many innocent would die.

  Mustering energy from somewhere even he did not know existed, he charged at Kobin once more.

  ‘Stop!’ shouted Kobin. ‘We mustn’t fight!’

  His words were lost on deaf ears as the two men became locked together again. Kobin was unable to use his left arm and suffered several hard punches to that side. His only defence was to pull Tyral in close enough that it was too hard to gather any force behind his punches. They both targeted each other’s necks, seeking the kill. Their grips were strong, so neither could speak, but each read the others’ eyes. There was slight fear, regret and anguish in Kobin’s, but what he saw in return caused him to fear like he had never feared before. There was something else in his old friend’s eyes, something ancient and rare. He had seen it once before but could not place the experience. It seemed as if Tyral’s eyes were alight inside, burning with pure hate but also something he didn’t understand. Then he realised where he had seen it, and his own eyes widened with disbelief and shock.

  ‘You can’t,’ he whispered.

  Suddenly Tyral’s body emanated a heat that made them too hot to hold onto. Kobin released his grip and backed away several paces in astonishment. Tyral was almost upon him again when the rumble in the ground became terrifyingly loud and both men began to lose their balance. A tear in the earth snaked its way between them, massive sections of dirt breaking free on either side as new hills and caverns were formed. Tyral took another step toward Kobin just as the ground gave way and he started to fall. Kobin reached out to save his friend from the abyss and managed to grab his hand.

  ‘No!’ he yelled through gritted teeth. ‘Not this time!’

  Tyral stared lifelessly up at Kobin, as if already accepting his fate as one finger slipped, followed by another, and then another, and then the last. The two men that had been friends for so long were both left staring into darkness, Tyral into Kobin’s eyes and Kobin into the abyss that would forever shroud his world in loneliness, claiming the one friend he felt he truly had.

  The rumbling slowed as he turned away from the edge, tears surfacing through the
blood on his face. He had failed. His plans, his dreams of ruling the world with Tyral were over. He wondered how it had all gone wrong, whether he had been right in his assessments or not. Tyral had not given him the chance to explain that he had already taken measures to protect Tyral’s family. The rest of their people he did not care for, as both he and Tyral had often made note of how poorly the villagers had treated them. They were not worth saving. He had left the destruction of the village as a surprise, as the ultimate revenge against those that had wronged them. And yet Tyral had seemed to want to save them.

  Could he have made a mistake? Could he have misunderstood his friend? The world had a strange method of showing him the errors of his ways. But he had planned it all perfectly. How could he have been wrong? He was never wrong. Not him, not the man of greatness he had become.

  No.

  It could not have been him. All would have been well if not for the earth splitting apart. Tyral would have appreciated his brilliance as soon as he saw his family alive and well. No, it was not his fault. He could not have planned for this. There was only one to blame. One man. His sworn enemy, the man that had mistreated him more than any other, the man that he wanted dead the most.

  ‘Vennoss,’ Kobin whispered to himself, ‘you will pay for your crimes, old man.’

  With an oath to avenge his friend’s death and all the others that he loved, he sat quietly, listening to the sounds of destruction from behind him in the valley.

  Alone again, the world would soon know the power of his wrath.

  * * *

  Jaden raced along the side of the valley, half-heartedly shouting for everyone to evacuate. He had managed to dodge past the soldiers and get into the village, but the scene before him was beginning to overwhelm him. He had been running on pure emotion, but now the lack of energy was finally taking its toll. Everything that had happened over the past days was coming to the surface; the hollowness of the feelings inside, the dreams, the sickness, his loss of time with Alyssa, continual fights with Ardim and even winning the wrong tennagen match. It felt as though the entire world was coming down upon him, and now seeing the homes of his fellow Callibrians on fire was making him question if it was even worth fighting to save.

  A sudden roar in the sky and a flicker of gray made him lose his balance and trip over a rock. He was sent spinning down the slope, coming to a stop only when he landed in some bushes. He had to cover his ears as he looked up to the sky, where a group of fighter jets was flying low across the valley. Just as the previous strike he had seen from outside of the village, they were turning back before letting their bombs fly, and the panic started all over again.

  A single moment seemed frozen in time as all eyes were fixed on the dark shapes that flew over them, wondering at who would be unfortunate enough to be hit by the bombs. They had to run. They had to get away. But it was too late. As if a giant hammer had struck the earth with a tremendous blow, the ground shook furiously from the first impact and what was once a house became a mess of fiery rubble and ash within seconds. Dust and debris of houses was then sent hurtling into the atmosphere, as the rest of the bombs rained down upon them, men, women and children all screaming at the tops of their lungs. They tried to run in every direction, but were met with more explosions each way they turned. It seemed nowhere in the village was safe. The fighter jets were systematically destroying each structure in sight, and closing off every way out of the heart of the village.

  The roar above faded as the fighter jets left, and Jaden stood up again. Where only hours ago he had known paradise, there was a scene from the most horrific of wars, of the most brutal attacks. Ruin was left in place of beauty, the jets leaving the land broken, as a battlefield in which the bloody and dying walked among the fires that had come alight. Some were searching for shelter and aid, while others ran frantically about, trying to escape, or help whomever they could.

  Smoke and ash was pouring into the sky in great columns, the low visibility of dusk made worse with each. Jaden could hardly see ahead of him anymore, both from shock and the poisoned air, but knew something more devastating had come. In the west, between the Gates, the military unit he had passed on his way in had stationed itself. He could see little of it, but enough to know what would follow. Missiles and random gunfire would be aimed into the village, just as his grandfather had told him in the stories from around the world. They would kill as many as they could while they awaited the arrival of the rest of their force.

  He had to warn his people of the new threat.

  Without regard for his own safety, he raced into the village, shouting for them all to flee to the mountains in the east. They had to distance themselves as much as possible from the military unit in the west. There was no other chance of survival.

  He was halted by a loud hum. It was so low it felt sickening in the pit of his stomach, a vibration so deep he had to drop to one knee to contain the nausea it produced. The sound was followed by a crunching noise, of stone being crushed under immense weight. Jaden looked to the west where it had come from and saw people beginning to run toward him. At first he was confused by the sight, unable to make sense of the silhouettes in the sunset, just strange shapes, dark mountainous figures, nothing tangible. He saw it then, over the buildings, the reason his people ran this way. The giant machines, those bigger than houses were ploughing into the village, pushing entire buildings out of the way and leaving little more than dust and rubble behind them. Soldiers filtered through the buildings ahead of these enormous machines, cutting down the villagers with their large weaponry at merciless rates. The attack had come into full effect.

  Jaden had to get to his family.

  At full pace he sprinted to reach the tennagen field, glancing only briefly at the people congregating there as he passed. It was the last place he would have thought safe, but he did not have time to help them just yet. He had to get home first. He had to protect his family. He had to make sure they were all right.

  Dark houses still untouched by the bombs flickered by as he passed them, easing his fears slightly as he ran as fast as he could. There were only three or four fires within this area; it seemed the attacks had been mainly concentrated on the edges of the village. His family would still be alive. He still had time, but not much. The approaching military unit would be at the tennagen field soon enough, and then it would not be long before the entire village was in their grasp.

  On the final hill before he reached his road, he breathed a sigh of gratitude and relief as he spotted his home, still dark, still untouched. They were safe. He began to jog instead of run toward them. He had to slow down from the pain in his side. It allowed him to focus on the far away sounds of battle and incessant screaming filling the air. It made his heart falter and legs shiver to know what was going on; such senseless destruction, such injustice, all seemingly without warning. The question “Why?” went through his mind repeatedly, each time without answer. Why was this happening? Why did it have to be this way? Why now? Why after thirty years of being free of the wars? Why was a defenceless village being attacked? None of it made any sense. It almost seemed impossible that it was happening.

  The questions were silenced when a third deafening roar came from above, another wave of fighter jets, this time unleashing their devastating load on the inner parts of the village. Several of the bombs were falling almost directly above him, but there was no shelter anywhere near. He couldn’t hide. All he could do was duck close to the ground and put his arms over his head as if he were in the foetal position for protection, trying to clamp them hard against his ears to protect them from the sound of explosions ripping through the buildings to his left and right. Louder than the jets, the explosions left his ears ringing and caused him to yell out in pain as a fragment of wood struck his shoulder hard.

  The dirt and ash that fell on him then covered his back completely, staining his hair, clothes and skin alike, and he held his breath to prevent any of the soot from entering his lungs.

&nb
sp; It was over in seconds. He was able to stand. Fires were now rampant around him, this area of the village no longer different to the others. There was hardly a building left standing, some caved in while others now existed as large smouldering craters.

  Gone. So quickly, so terribly, they were gone.

  His home…

  His head jerked forward and his eyes rapidly searched through the smoke. Where was it? His mouth hung open in disbelief as he slowly began to jog forward again. It should have been only one hundred yards away, behind the great tower of black smoke billowing upward where more than one of the bombs had hit. Yet … it was not there.

  Jaden felt the blood drain from his chest, leaving him cold and cringing within. He didn’t want to think it. He didn’t want to believe it. He made a quick dash the last of the way to his home, so he could ease his fears and comfort himself with the vision of his home magically escaping harm. But it was not to be. He was stopped short of his destination, the heat becoming too intense as he neared, and he fell on his knees with his hands on the ground and head down, unable to bear the sight.

  Collapsed. His home had been reduced to rubble. And his family…

  Tommy…

  Embra…

  His mother…

  Their faces flashed before his eyes. They were gone, all of them. If only he had run faster. If only he had lost the game of tennagen. If only he had yelled louder. They could still have been alive.

  He turned his head slowly from side to side, tears seeping through tightly closed eyelids as he fell backward and covered them with his hands. There he sat in anguish, in front of the tombstone of his family’s final resting place, completely helpless. All he could do was sit and await death to find him as well. He hoped it would come soon, with another strike on the village or a single bullet from a soldier searching out survivors. He just wanted it to end. There was no point in going on now. Not without his family. Not without the ones he loved. The pain was too much.