Defiled

by Elskidor Xell

  "I will meet with you once more for a last detailed briefing and deliver you the horn. For now, eat something and get prepared. I will choose who you ride with. We have little time, Magus. I suggest you get focused. Much that occurs depends on you." Magus stared at him, but said nothing. He admired the plan, and without a doubt, he knew it would work.

  Chapter Nine

  Yuken's Point

  Far and wide across the plains of Urnen came the ghastly parade of rugged warriors. The enemy mirrored the night skies, a massive swarm of a darker hue as they hovered forth in haste. There was no structure in the enemies' advance. Bunched together like a virus, they paced on to spread their plague. The riders upon drymraith galloped across the fields, tainting the grass with every step while those who rode no drymraith ran relentlessly. Dratzels moved fast in their footing, agile and filled with cruel intent. The short pulslings scampered, some pouncing here to there. Those with shorter legs proved just as fast, and they boosted their bodies forward with their lengthy withered arms hanging like apes or monkeys. They stalked under the stars, a swift shadow moving ever closer to the valley of Yuken's Point.

  Craving and stalking as they went, the hungry fiends’ eyes desired the blood of the ones they tracked. Then came the vigorous minotaurs, tall, long-legged, and thick in flesh. Most stood between seven to eight feet with some even nine feet tall, far stronger than their fellow warriors. Their horns, both sharp and potent, pointed outward, embracing the wind and cutting through it as their feet paddled, squashing the very grass their mammoth bodies came across. Their endurance allowed them to run for days with enhanced speed.

  Upon their backs, they wielded mighty maces, massive swords, and foreboding axes and shields, yet nothing seemed to slow them. Minotaur eyes gleamed yellow and black while gray, black, and brown were the colors of the Lamisdorian-born. Their nostrils let out heated furls of smoke in their maddening chase. Aggressive and mighty from head to toe, whereas minotaur eyes once would display life and age, now showed nothing but wicked yearnings.

  Within their ranks came the agile and frail malformed dratzel along with the dying pale pulsling, flesh caked in ooze and virus, riding menacingly on drymraith or the backs of Minotaur. The dratzel’s mouths stayed open, flashing sharp teeth craving the taste of their prey, sick black saliva dripping from their ghoulish faces. They were tainted with a pestiferous countenance and vacant eyes, too big or too small, bulging or sunken or even twisted. And much like the rest of the host, bent on one cruel intent.

  In haste, they charged across the field, tracking Elzeenor's small host. He had passed through not long before, and the fiends sensed their prey's scent rising thicker and thicker in the air. The black cloud of smoke upon the fields of Urnen was but an array of many beasts wielding deadly weapons with perilous desires moving forward but tangled in an enormous wad of at least ten thousand warriors.

  ***

  Down in the valley, not far from the massive enemy of dreadful strength, Magus sat upon his horse along with a company of fifty riders. Behind them, in the distance, a thick fog shadowed the darker trees. They faced the direction whence they'd come and from where treacherous commotion sounded. It didn't take elf ears to hear the parade of the rival any longer. Magus and the riders were in the dead center of the valley, awaiting the enemy to stamp down the hillside toward them. Their hearts beat fast. The elves seemed much calmer than Magus, who was filled with anticipation. Nervous tension had taken over Magus, but he showed no fear, only curiosity.

  Then, at last, at the top of the hillside far above, the first ones came into view. They absorbed the entire edge with blackened colors. Tall, small and saddled, they made fierce screeches and irritable sounds. Their screams grew in volume, never stopping even for a moment. Their hungry eyes fell on the little group in the valley. When they realized their target numbers were few, they charged. Onward they went down the steep northern slope of Yuken's point. Weapons of the enemy were raised as they surged toward Magus and the riders, presenting their brutal and feral might. Now, but a hundred feet away, the host was falling for the bait. Magus pulled his eyes away from the black river rolling down the hillside and screamed out.

  "The enemy has come! Retreat!" Magus shrieked to make this hoax believable to the wretched creatures, but the foe failed to consider the possibility that Elzeenor might trick them with a perilous ruse. Magus turned his horse and galloped away toward the hazy fog and forest in the distance. The remaining riders followed. As they sped away, the wicked host, fast as lightning, swarmed into the valley. Their cravings only grew upon discovering a measly few dozen victims, and they planned to rip them apart. Hissing, moaning and groaning, they trampled downward. Before long the entire hillside was covered, and on they continued like a flooding river, drowning the lands in a sudden uproar. On and on the throng raced to pour into the gorge.

  Magus braved the perils of the fogs ahead, keeping a close look over his shoulder as he advanced toward the thick trees. Before the dense mist took Magus's sight, he saw the hillside from above him with the northern hill being now overrun with the enemy. Down in the valley, they came giving a mad chase to his company. Then into the haze, the riders disappeared. Now Magus could see little behind him or what lay ahead. He only hoped his horse was better off than he, but Magus wasn't too worried. Rather, he was excited to take on the challenge. He felt a tree limb skim through his hair, so he ducked, realizing they had entered the forest. Here the fog was even heavier, further hindering his vision. Magus wondered why the enemy would fall for a trick like this if their vision was as limited as his own. He heard the trampling of horse hooves around him from all directions, and the low whispers in the air like the forest was alive. It was like a dream now, a dream that left Magus in awe, but not frightened. To him, this was a night of incredible new experiences with victory straight ahead. Joy and anticipation grew within his heart. His ears perked up as painful screeches and yells from the advancing enemy closed in.

  And then the fog lightened up while a great beam of light from the sky highlighted something upon the forest floor. Magus spotted the giant tree that had fallen and torn down many others in its wake. This tree was still caught up between the branches of another tree. As promised, it pointed to the right. While under the light of the moon, Magus took charge and commanded his horse to lead the group of riders as they veered to the right. They galloped full speed as the light faded into thick fog once more.

  Magus realized this was the point where he needed to get prepared to blow the horn dangling from his neck. When the horse stopped next, he would need to sound the alert. In the excitement of the moment, he forgot why he had ducked close to the horse's neck. He rose to grab the horn as he looked forward to his moment of glory. Soon he was to give the signal for the unseen archers in the hills to feed the fire to the enemy that now were ensnared by the haze-bitten forest. There they would meet their bitter massacre. To Magus's surprise, a large painful force replaced the smirk upon his face as a thick branch collided into him, sending him flying to land in the unseen grass.

  "Urgh!" Magus moaned, lying on the forest floor feeling a terrible ache in his head. It took a moment for him to realize what had happened, and then it became all too clear. His horse had continued without him, leaving him in the murk and peril. He sat up filled with emotion and chaotic worries, but still somehow tainted with excitement. It was as if this twist made him come more to life. His eyes were nearly bright enough to light up the forest despite his enormous throbbing headache.

  He jumped to his feet. Disoriented, he didn't realize which way his horse fled, and he could see nothing beyond a few feet away. All he heard were distant growls and rippling of trees. He imagined dratzels tossing their strange limbs from branch to branch, and the minotaurs and pulslings ripping through bushes, vines and tree limbs with blades. Much of the forest was consumed with their kind by now, and even if Magus had abandoned his original mission by accident, he would not allow this minor delay to prevent their victory.<
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  When he recalled Elzeenor's instructions to count once clear of the forest, he guessed the delay caused by his fall couldn't be much longer than what he was supposed to wait anyway. So, after little thought, he gave in to his dicey predicament, and brought the mighty horn up before his mouth to blow. The horn was small and curled in shape, but when he blew, the sound permeated the air with music and power. It echoed throughout the area much louder than Magus had imagined. The vibrating sound pained his poor eardrums. Still, he continued to blow and the sound sang on throughout the wilderness.

  The sound of the horn pervaded the fog and trees. High above in the foggy hilltops surrounding the woods, on the left and right, scattered troops dipped their arrows, and placed them upon their bows, obeying the music of the horn. Flamed arrows took flight. Each archer shot multiple arrows, lighting the sky as they soared. From the right and left, like fireworks, they arched upward, then dived into the forest below. Over half of the enemy had become one with the forest now, never expecting the danger that lay in store for them.

  At once fire engulfed the treetops and whizzed in between massive trees, entering the clouded dominion of the forest. Into the earth, the arrows met their glory and took on the forest and the dwellers within. Like a colossal storm from nowhere, fired arrows jammed the grounds, treetops, and unprepared bodies within, swallowing them whole, painting the darkness with red and orange. On the Elves continued firing from the left and the right, and the forests of murk glowed. The wretched noises from within were nameless, and they sang along with Magus’s horn. The crackling of mighty trees and roars of dying beasts became a part of the terrible orchestra. Yet there was more. The enemy host that now occupied the valley came to a halt at the sight of the burning forest and the sounds of their suffering allies. Confusion swept over the wicked enemy as they realized the renowned strategist of the East had tricked them.

  The enemies within the valley had little time now. From all sides of the upper fields came warrior shouts of men and elves. From the right and the left, closing in on the center, elves and mortal horse riders gave roars of their own. They rode in or charged by foot from all directions, carrying swords, spears, and weapons to meet the enemy. They enclosed them in the circle where the beasts were trapped before Elzeenor's might. The valley the hungry enemy had entered to bring their prey to doom had now become their prison.

  In the fog, Elzeenor's brigade surrounded the valley from above as the enemy entered the trap. The riders encircled from all sides, leaving the enemy only one path of retreat. The dark host had but two choices now. They could face Elzeenor or try to escape into the heaping flames of the forest. Some rode toward the flames, choosing this fate, but many prepared to greet them. From every direction, with Elzeenor in the center, they charged the enemy, crashing hard into the might of the dark horde. Like an ocean devouring the river, from all sides, the enemy had been wickedly deceived and viciously overthrown. The beasts readied themselves for the coming of Elzeenor and the Kaelliakie warriors when they raised their menacing weapons. Yet their power could not hold Elzeenor's charge. Horses trampled the enemy hard and slashed and collided through the borders of their circle. With little effort, they crushed and rode to enclose them all bringing the vile throng to their defeat.

  Elzeenor rode through the melee, with two long slender elf blades in each hand, twirling them from side to side as he galloped through the enemy. His attacks were like a dance, graceful and deadly. The host stormed the foe, ripping through the enemy with their swords and showing their power. They squashed them as they rode through like a phantom of wrath.

  Elzeenor charged through the entire host, then left his troupe to finish this inevitable battle. He rushed through them and broke away on the other side, keeping his pace toward the woods of fire. He sprinted, chasing those who dared to retreat into the burning woods of Yuken's point. The battle took shape just as Elzeenor foresaw.

  In the mad shuffle they scattered, many on fire, dancing around in flames. The grounds crackled in scorched heat yet the horde pressed to find a safe path of retreat beyond the forest. Elzeenor pursued through the heat under him, his horse relentless and shimmering in silver. They felt no heat. The trees here were covered from root to the tallest limb in merciless flames as nature suffered for Elzeenor's victory to come to fruition.

  Then Elzeenor spotted Magus within the fire. He smiled at his champion's victory. Magus was safe, still holding the horn wrapped around him. Elzeenor had wondered what fate had taken Magus when the horn abruptly ceased, but Magus’s bright spirit remained as he chased the enemy down. Elzeenor grinned, taking off to join the man that appeared to be dancing as he fought, hunting random small parties and dispatching them. As Elzeenor rode, he realized he was not alone. A few others of his host had come with him. Upon horseback they galloped, dodging patches of fire as they too followed the disoriented enemy, still seeking retreat.

  Onward, he rode to Magus's side where Magus gave chase to a few black dratzels with grueling pale eyes, who were petrified as they raced forward seeking safety, all the while stretching their lengthy necks to gaze back to stalk the oncoming predator. They had arrived fearless, but now ran in terror, hobbling here and there trying to escape the patches of flames growing larger and more potent by the second.

  Magus whirled to face a horse coming his way and glanced up in time to see Elzeenor smiling. Elzeenor cocked his head to one side, motioning Magus to jump on behind him. Without hesitation, Magus threw his body up, grabbing Elzeenor's shoulders and landing upon the horse's sturdy saddle behind his commander. The wild horse sprinted off, giving chase to the hundreds of shadowy creatures scattering away.

  The fog was now lifted, and the trees became giant torches shedding light and terrorizing the enemy. Elzeenor flung his thin blades into the back of the few dratzels Magus had chased, and they gave a piercing wail before they tumbled and became no more. Magus kept his club handy as they pursued the enemy, his eyes remaining full of youthful enthusiasm and life. Elzeenor smote foes as he came upon them while Magus occasionally bashed them upside their heads.

  Then Elzeenor ordered his faithful beast to slow and they watched the horde retreat pursued by other riders. At a much slower pace, Elzeenor followed behind them, basking in their triumph. Their allies halted soon after and watched the enemy as they disappeared from the fires and into the deepest fogs of the forest where flames had not yet reached.

  "They think they are escaping, Master Magus." Magus looked on into the fog. No more of the enemy could be seen. Within moments there came a series of loud shrieks, roars, and yells. The wretched sounds sang a torturous song, echoing its horror in their blistering cage. Wicked noises and mountainous roars of minotaurs reverberated and faded into nothingness.

  "What took them?" Magus's voice faded out in a whisper, but his eyes never left the foggy forest. He wondered if he would have chased the enemy straight to his doom had Elzeenor not arrived. He remembered Elzeenor mentioning an abyss, but had thought it only a metaphor.

  "The Great Deep. Hidden in fog shall be their end. There is no escape for those surrounded in Yuken's point, Master Magus. It is a strategic battlefield where terrific victories can either be accomplished or defeats can be granted. Out there lies a pit with no bottom that any have lived to tell about."

  "I'm sorry I doubted you. Do you think Amaud was successful?"

  "I do. And assuming he was, we have stopped two of three opposing forces with few casualties on our end. I count that as a success, Master Magus. Although we have won a considerable victory, we have one more task. We ride out to defend Orzo from the crippled enemy that will now receive no reinforcement thanks be to us."

  "I am truly sorry," Magus repeated.

  "Don't be. You see, this task was as much for me as it was for you. I thought about placing you with Amaud, but I wanted you here with me. I wanted to instill trust between us. "

  "What? Why me?" Magus asked.

  "After the battle of Orzo, we will talk again. To
day we rejoice and we ride."

  Chapter Ten

  Chaos at Orzo

  Kaelliakie-ten months after the unsealing of the gate

  Relentless foul fiends marched to faceoff in Orzo, capital of the dwarfs. Despite crippling injury, the enemy would launch a massive attack at the last stronghold protecting the crystal palace in Loomis. Simultaneously, the natives of Kaelliakie prepared for the upcoming assault with their only ally in Murnia. Before the battle started, the distant Darvane dwarfs arrived to assist.

  It had taken longer than Darius hoped for the dwarfs of the Darvane Hills to gather their people and load their ships to embark on the voyage, but they eventually made it into the east. Darius was eager to see Haelleenia, but Calysto urged him to put off his trip to Loomis a little longer and join them in battle, thinking his "special tricks", as she called them, might come in handy. As much as Darius wanted to help, he suspected seeking council from Haelleenia and learning more about the two women in his visions might prove more vital. He didn’t intend to fight alongside Calysto or the dwarfs unless he sailed right into a battle.