by C. J. Aaron
Ryl growled as he unleashed another slash of wind. The press of the lanky blackened bodies subsided as the wind tossed them away like rag dolls. They wailed in agony and confusion as they careened into the others pressed close behind. Many never rose again as his flaming blade stalled their rise.
Throughout the battle, his mindsight worked in tandem with his other senses. The surging blackened wave of the Horde ebbed and flowed as his assault cut into their overwhelming numbers. For every demon he felled, several more took their place. The sea of enemies was endless.
Ryl had staked his claim just to the north of the first set of alleyways that split off from the main avenue. The location allowed him to ensure that the battle remained at his front. From the west, no avenues exited behind him to the courtyard and the gate. To the east, the only narrow alley at his rear had been clogged by a mountain of debris from the fire to the barracks and the explosion that had rocked the street. The expansion of the Horde had surprisingly stalled on the western side of the city.
He lost track of time as his battle waged on. The dead and dying before him choked the roadway. Every step was made with caution as the stone grew slick with blood and gore. A veritable river of black oozed down the gentle slope.
The ease with which he cut down his foes was invigorating, yet at the same time sickening. He’d long lost the last shred of remorse for the vile demons that fell to his blades. The apathetic thought disturbed him to his core. Though outnumbered, he killed with impunity. The battle was a massacre. A chilling thought touched upon his consciousness.
Was he becoming no better than the demons he sought to defend against?
He felt invincible, though he fought his mind from concentrating on the feeling. Overconfidence would be his demise. The alexen in his blood screamed in a mixture of agitation and animosity. His muscles begged for relief and pause. Ryl sent a final blast, a wide arc across the road, propelling the dead and living with it.
He released his hold on the speed that flowed through him as the gap opened between himself and the Horde. He was panting, his chest heaving as he gasped for massive breaths. As time snapped back to normal, Ryl was shockingly aware of his mortality.
He had been careless, too lost in emotion to contemplate the reality of his actions.
He was alone, bobbing in a sea of vicious hatred.
One phrenic against untold millions. While he’d held his own, a single misstep would cost him his life.
A high-pitched whistle from behind commanded his attention. A bolt, still flaming, careened off the stone facade of the building to his right. A shower of sparks rained down over the avenue, hissing as they extinguished in the pools of black blood.
A second followed.
Then a third.
Ryl turned his body to the side, facing east, his right hand with the flaming serrated blade held defensively toward the Horde. The demons’ approach was hesitant. They maintained their gap as he risked a glance back toward the gate.
He spotted the commotion atop the palisade immediately. Fay’s animated motions stood out among the wall of archers. The young lord jumped up and down, flailing his arms above his head. With exaggerated gestures, he pointed to the east and then to the west before beckoning Ryl back with his arms. He knew the army of the king marched from the east. From his last view, nothing but a sea of Horde covered the terrain to the west. What Fay was signaling to, he knew not.
Ryl backed slowly up the bloodied avenue. His body, regaining its composure with every breath, thanked him for the respite. No matter how short of a duration it was. Though they gnashed their teeth and slashed their claws menacingly through the air, the Horde halted their approach.
They seemed tentative. Their rage-filled growls and cries had subsided. They stared at Ryl, their beady black eyes never blinking as he moved cautiously toward the wall.
Howls of excitement rose in the distance.
The thunder of heavy cavalry and thousands of boots on the cobblestone street rumbled from the east.
Fay’s animated gestures grew more frantic. Ryl turned, loping back to the wall. He monitored the area around him with his mindsight. The Horde stalled, holding the point where he had forced his assault. He hopped through the rubble of the buildings that had once formed the corners of the courtyard. Within a few long paces, he ascended the steps several at a time. Lord Eligar’s troops scrambled aside as Ryl vaulted across the gap.
Fay was beside him the moment his feet touched the stone walkway of the palisade.
“I have no words for what I just witnessed,” Fay gasped. The moment was uncomfortable. Ryl captured the awed stares of several of Lord Eligar’s troops.
“What did you call me for, Fay?” Ryl snapped, happy to change the subject. He witnessed the reverence wipe from the young lord’s face. His demeanor changed; his expression grew panicked. Fay put his hand on Ryl’s shoulder, turning him back toward Cadsae Proper, angled toward the Estates to the west.
Ryl scanned the city to the west. There was a disturbance amongst the sea of blackened bodies that dominated the terrain. It was as if a great wedge were being driven through the center of the mass. He strained his eyes into the distance.
He gasped as realization of what he witnessed took hold. The alexen in his blood rushed with anxious energy. The throbbing in his arm seemed to swell at the sight.
Churning its way through the densely packed mass of the Horde was a beast that defied explanation. The creature hewing its way through the ranks was massive, standing easily twice as tall as the demons that surrounded it. The Horde that failed to yield before its charges were crushed under its massive weight.
“What is that?” Fay gasped.
Ryl closed his eyes, focusing on the knowledge of the phrenics stored within. Few memories recalled Horde of this gargantuan size. Of the ill-recorded history of the Horde, there had been only one he could locate. In the historical references, the beast had been the ruler, which the millions of harriers and banes followed. Its death at the hands of Taben had sparked the ending to the war. The devastation of the Horde.
Ryl cringed at the sight that followed in the wake of the massive beast. The banes that have been absent up to this point surged to fill in the gap that opened behind it.
“Something not seen in over a millennium, my friend,” Ryl acknowledged. “The Horde favors strength. I’ve seen the harrier cede power to the massive bane. In the time of Taben, all acquiesced to one such as this.”
He watched the beast plod forward. Its lumbering pace was inhibited by none. As it reached the gates to the Estates, the massive beast swung its mighty arm, demolishing the minimal gate that stood in its way. The cracking of stone and timber was audible from the palisade. It crossed the stone square clogged with Horde, unsympathetically crushing any who failed to scramble out of its way in time. Its gargantuan frame disappeared behind the buildings that lined the Kingsway.
The excited vocalizations of its brethren swelled as it passed. They grew louder like a wave of chilling noise from the west.
To the east, the army of the king continued toward the city, unfazed by the demons massing in their midst. Their vanguards had crossed the border of the city already. There was no way that the troops had yet to see the Horde massing in the city before them. Still, with the Lei Guard at the head of the column, they marched into the city, more the victorious army than the defending troop.
“They march as if there is nothing there,” Fay said as he watched the troops move closer to the wall of the Horde.
“Aye, the loyalties of the kingdom have come to bear,” Ryl added. “The Lei Guard, the figurehead for the king’s rule, lead their forces to a meeting with an enemy of legend. What union has been formed, I cannot fathom.”
Ryl watched as the competing forces converged. The army behind the steady wall of Lei Guard faltered though their vanguard continued unabated. There was no way that the Blessing of the King, the life-giving elixir, had been given to all who followed the standard bearers.
The uncertainty rippled through the ranks, though their masters kept up a steady facade.
Momentary respite was welcome, though the culmination of the delay was worrisome. The might of both the kingdom and the Outlands had been brought to bear on the doomed port city. Atop the wall of the southern palisade, and in the settlement beyond, a little more than one thousand remained. Even if the army from Cadsae Proper heeded the call of the signal fires and joined their cause, they’d still be outnumbered hundreds to one.
“Fay,” Ryl whispered, “this is not a battle we can win. You can survive this day. Flee now. Flee for the woods. Take as many as you can.”
Lord Eligar looked conflicted at the statement. He turned his head to the north, his gaze lingering on the wisp of dust that remained behind the fleeing citizens. He looked back to the city. The lost city, which now teemed with untold numbers of demons from legend.
Cadsae Proper was dead. He doubted that any who remained, those who ignored their call, survived. Into the devastation now marched the army of the kingdom, the protectors of the realm. They showed little remorse, little hesitance, no animosity as they approached the murderers of their kin.
“That I could, Ryl,” he muttered somberly. “It is unsurprising that the armies of the crown and likely the once noble houses will follow similar orders. Were I to abandon this wall, were I to flee home or anywhere else, where would I go? Eventually, sooner rather than later, they’d come for the lands of my house too. There is nothing that can withstand those numbers.”
Fay sighed as he leaned heavily against the wall.
“I’ll make my stand here with you,” the young lord announced.
Ryl was warmed by the sentiment, yet it was chilling.
“Fay, I know not what they plan,” Ryl added. “If there is a union of man and Horde, if the Lei Guard truly commands their obedience, that does not bode well, though it spells some measure of hope that men will survive. The wave of demons that threatened to sweep over the kingdom before Taben made his stand would have extinguished all life. What leash will be kept on now?”
Fay pondered the question as his gaze roved the city. They both watched in silence as the vanguard for the king’s army met the wall of the Horde in the intersection. The mass of Horde seemed to ripple outward as the cavalry halted meters from their front. Like a stone into still water, the wave of commotion spread outward, though its effect dissipated rapidly as it traveled.
The moments stretched on, a mixture of anticipation and expectation. Both sides seemed to appraise the other, with a startling familiarity. Further back in the ranks of the king’s army, the tension was visible. The organized ranks of the lead element were still, statuesque.
Toward the back, Ryl’s vision noted the anxious commotion vibrate with increasing frequency. The neat ranks dissolved into a disorganized crowd. There was a sense that it pulled in opposite directions, one element moving toward the Horde, the other seeking to flee.
At the moment, the dissension among the ranks of the human army was of little concern to Ryl. The massive beast reached the intersection of the avenue leading to the Pining Gates.
The creature stopped, leaning forward, glaring at the line of soldiers mounted before it. The Lei Guard remained firm in their position, centered at the head of the army. Behind them the horses stomped their feet, snorting and nickering in protest as the beast drew near.
Lifting its head to the sky, it opened its yawning mouth, unleashing a cry that shook the city. The beast raised its muscular right arm, hefting a cudgel that looked to be the size of a fallen tree into the air. The hatred spewed from the depth of its gullet, a low roar that crescendoed into a screeching cry that rattled through Ryl’s body. He slammed his hands to his ears as the innumerous mouths of the Horde answered the challenge.
It was a deafening peal that carried on for several long, painful moments. Along the wall and among the run-down village behind him, he heard the commotion grow. Soldiers abandoned their posts, the remaining citizens fled hastily to the north. Some merely crumpled, weeping openly.
Ryl could feel the black stain of hatred, endless and cold, spread outward. He felt the wave crash against the wall, spraying hopelessness across him and the pitiful army at his side.
The walls preventing them from devastation now seemed pathetically thin. Hopelessly short.
The effects were not lost among the army of the king as well. The horses of the cavalry closest to the Horde rampaged in protest. Several riders were unseated as their mounts panicked. It was a miracle that others maintained some semblance of calm. Throughout the ranks, order failed. Cries of alarm were drowned by the overpowering war cry.
Throughout the lines, soldiers deserted, scrambling in any direction that led them further from the abominations ahead. Dozens fled. Some abandoned their weapons and packs for the sake of speed. Others ran as fast as they could, eager to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the horrors that waited behind.
With a shriek that again echoed over the city, a small contingent of harriers broke from the group. Their lanky forms moved like a blur as they raced along the flanks of the king’s army. The deserting soldiers didn’t make it far. None stood a chance against the fleet demons that fell on them with a viciousness that defied explanation.
Their agonized wails fell silent as the Horde tore their bodies to shreds. The massacre was over in moments. Wide patches of gore and chunks of desiccated bodies signaled where their resistance had met their pitiful ends.
The demons, dripping with the blood of their kills, stalked back along the edges of the army. Swords had been drawn protectively, yet none dared move against the beast. The troops fell back into an uneasy formation.
Ryl watched the tragic scene with a sense of both revulsion and pity. The true nature of the relationship between the Lei Guard and the Horde had been laid bare.
This was forced compliance. The army, the kingdom, were little better off now than the tributes. Though granted a larger measure of freedom, they were slaves, nonetheless.
With the army in check, the massive Horde turned its attention up the hill toward the Pining Gates. Ryl felt the wicked gaze fall on him. The urge to flee threatened to overwhelm. The power of its appearance and the raw hatred that poured from it were a powerful deterrent.
Ryl rolled his shoulders back, standing tall. He stepped up onto the narrow railing. Holding the Leaves in both hands, he focused on ignoring the pain that had settled into his left arm. The translucent blades burst to flame. Green fire spread along their jagged lengths. Fay and the archers standing close by retreated a step as the withering heat rippled the air.
The beast cocked its head to the side, tilting it at an unnatural angle. The gurgling notes that bubbled from its throat were incomprehensible. Ryl had the disturbing feeling they were akin to laughter.
Challenge accepted, he thought.
Ryl turned his head slightly to the side, though his eyes remained fixed on the terrifying foe that stared him down from afar. Behind the colossal Horde, the banes, absent up to this point, began massing by the hundreds.
“Have the archers ready to fire on the banes, the larger beasts behind the leader,” he called to the young lord.
Fay nodded his head in assent, yet said nothing, his mouth still agape at the sight that loomed before him.
The massive Horde took one lumbering step forward toward the Pining Gates.
“What about that?” Fay gasped.
Step after step, the gigantic demon approached. Ryl could feel each thundering footfall as it shook the ground. The excited calls of the Horde around it swelled. He could feel their anticipation grow as they sensed the bloodshed soon to come.
The thud of every footstep echoed through his body. Each rumble sent a stabbing lance of pain through his left arm. He shot a glance downward at the tattoo of the burning sun on his arm. The clear skin of the interior of the ball of fire seemed to pulse with every shot of pain. The edges curled inward. Probing streaks of
black nearly pierced the speckled center.
Ryl watched as the massive Horde kicked aside a harrier that was unlucky enough to be still in its way. The shattered body hurtled through the air, splattering as it smashed into the stone face of a building that lined the avenue. It raised the mighty cudgel that it carried in its right hand, resting the shaft on its muscular shoulder.
The details of the creature became startlingly apparent as it neared. It towered over the lanky harriers, which scurried from its way. The beast dwarfed the solidly built bane that followed in its wake.
Like its brethren, the monstrosity was hairless, its skin a red so deep it appeared black. Unlike the harriers, with their lean bodies and lanky legs, this creature was more proportionally comparative to a human. Its legs and torso were nearly equal height, though they were each likely at least a meter taller than Ryl.
That was where the comparisons to humans ceased. The demon’s arms were longer, its hands ending almost at its knees. The muscles that rippled as it moved were impossibly large. It was built like a mountain, though he could see not an ounce of fat. Suddenly, the impervious wall of the palisade didn’t seem so stout.
Ryl looked back at his friend, who’d finished barking out orders to the captain.
“If that creature makes it past, then the gate and the walls will fall,” Ryl admitted.
“What are you going to do, Ryl?” Fay asked.
Ryl grinned. It was a pained, pitiful attempt, yet it was all he could muster.
“Reason with it on its level, I suppose,” he added. “Andr’s taught me a few tricks in his days.”
He turned his head back to the approaching monstrosity. The beast pushed past the line that had stalled after his last assault. Banes filled in the space behind.
“You should leave, my lord,” Ryl added. “The kingdom will need your leadership.”