“Advance!” he bellowed, and trumpets blew to relay the order. As one the Liberator army moved at a slow but steady pace. To attack a numerically superior enemy was suicide, but he had to prevent the enemy from advancing if Lizella’s plan was to work. To his side and charging forward were War Wagons. The armoured carts were pulled into the fray by horses and once in position, the animals were cut free. The men inside the wagons hastily set up small cannons which they used to pepper the advancing enemy with grapeshot. Flashes from the enemy lines signalled that the Imperium gun crews had reloaded and returned fire. He tensed as the whistling projectiles slammed into his front lines. One of the wagons exploded in a ball of flame and the screams of the wounded carried on the cold breeze, but the army kept walking forward. The two armies exchanged artillery fire until the Liberators advanced within musket range. Ahead the Imperium musketeers took aim, their front-rank kneeling to allow those behind to fire too. The crack of a thousand guns firing was deafening but the screams of the dying and injured were worse. A trumpet sounded and the Liberators returned fire sending thick clouds of Gunsmoke through the ranks.
Marcian winced. His troops could not stand to exchange fire with the enemy for long. He shouted for his musketeers to use the armoured wagons for cover. Panicked shouts sounded from the front ranks and he swore. With a loud whistle and a shaking of the ground, the Guardian War machines stirred into life.
“Not yet!” he despaired. It was too soon. One of the behemoths rotated its barrel shaped head and the big gun built into it flashed as it fired. A high explosive shell tore into the Liberator ranks sending bodies and limbs high into the air. Another wagon was blasted into oblivion showering the field with debris. Just as he was about to lose his nerve and sound the retreat a wave of calmness washed over him and the army. Rea was using her Gift. With renewed courage, he bellowed at his troops to hold the line, to keep the enemy pinned in place. He kicked his spurs into the flanks of his horse and charged forward, yelling for his cavalry to follow. A trumpet blared and he stood in his stirrups to see that the other wing of horsemen was following his move. His horse thundered around the right flank of the army causing his soldiers to cheer. Whirling his sword above his head he charged at full speed towards the Imperium flanks and their horsemen. In the centre, musketeers exchanged volleys and pike men clashed savagely. Everything depended on keeping the enemy in place.
From the sky swooped Wendal’s airship, its cannons firing down into the packed Imperium ranks. The Guardians returned fire sending flak exploding in the air. The battle raged.
Marcian braced himself and raised his sword as his cavalry wing smashed into the Imperium horse. He ducked a sabre thrust aimed at his head and countered with a stab of his own. His sword glanced off the Imperium soldier’s armour, but the impact was enough to tip the man out of his saddle. All around him came the deafening sounds of battle. Swords clashed, guns fired, and horses whinnied. He parried another attacker and flick his blade upwards catching the soldier in his throat. Scarlett blood sprayed covering Marcian, but he pressed on regardless. He glanced to his right to see that his cavalry was slowly being pushed back. Amongst the enemy riders was a man dressed in a splendid white uniform and silver breast plate. His grey hair was covered in a helmet, but his thick moustache was unmistakable. It was Supreme Commander Rickon himself. Marcian spurred his mount onward and charged at Rickon. He almost took him by surprise, but at the last second Rickon masterfully guided his mount to sidestep Marcian’s slash.
“You!” Rickon snarled as he recognised Marcian. They clashed blades with masterful skill, parrying, stabbing, thrusting but neither man could gain the upper hand.
*
Vavius launched himself high into the air to land behind the shocked front line of musketeers. He could sense their panic, but it was not them he had business with. He smirked as the gunners collapsed to the ground coughing, gagging, and gripping their throats. Garen was using Disgust. The Guardian’s had begun to move slowly forward towards the brutal battle raging behind him. A squad of swordsmen charged at him but using Anticipation he danced through their attacks. Occasionally he lashed out with Anger shattering limbs and crushing breastplates. Within a few moments, the swordsman broke and fled. He dashed toward the nearest Guardian and focused Positivity at the men steering the mighty machine from within. He could feel their minds trying to resist his invasion, but it was no use, few could protect themselves from an Empowered One. The machine’s head rotated until its gun was aimed at another Guardian. With an extra push with the Power, the gunner inside pulled the trigger. The explosive round struck its target to send the mighty metal warlord crashing down in sheets of flame. Instantly, the other machines turned their attention to Vavius, their guns all fixed upon him. A light in the sky caught his attention. The yellow flare flickered for a few moments, then the mountains exploded.
*
Marcian ducked another attack by Rickon, neither man able to best the other. Suddenly, a deafening blast boomed across the battlefield and with a deafening roar the mountains to the rear of the Imperium army collapsed. An avalanche of death came hurtling towards them. Millions of tonnes of rock crashed down onto the Imperium army below crushing Guardians like they were tin cans and burying countless numbers of troops and horses. The deluge of rock and mud destroyed the Imperium watch towers snapping them like twigs. The Liberators broke off their attack and fled back across the plain, the stunned Imperium forces were not so lucky. The carnage wrought devastation among their ranks, the Guardians were now nothing more than broken twisted metal, their cannons smashed, and their soldiers buried alive.
Rickon lowered his sword and stared in horror at what had befallen his army. Without another word he spurred his horse forward and away, desperate to escape the field and the Supreme’s inevitable wrath.
Marcian let him go as he too took in the carnage. He turned his horse to look at the devastation and sighed in relief as he spotted the flares fired skyward by Lizella’s squad. Her plan had paid off spectacularly. He quickly took in the battlefield. A few hundred Imperium cavalry units had managed to escape the avalanche and the front line of the army appeared intact. However, the Liberators now outnumbered the enemy four to one.
He shouted for his army to reform and within a few minutes, the battle line was back in position.
“Hold fire!” he commanded. The enemy was beaten, the stunned expressions on their soldier’s faces were proof of that. He gathered up his cavalry wing and galloped towards what was left of the shattered Imperium army. At seeing the blue clad horsemen barrelling down upon them the Imperium soldiers threw down their weapons.
A great roar came from the Liberators, by a miracle they had won.
***
Chapter 26.
Dread swept over the Liberators like a tsunami. The joyous celebrations and cheers stopped as soon as they had begun, to be replaced with moans and despairing screams. Marcian fell from his saddle with a heavy thud and vomited violently onto the muddy ground. It felt as though his innards and brain were being ripped asunder. In agonised gasps he crawled, tears streaming from his eyes. All around him his army had fallen to writhe in the dirt. Some screamed as though they were witnessing some terror beyond imagining, others wept in choking cries.
A bright ball of fire lanced poetically through the sky to slam into Wendal’s airship. It struck the airship causing it to explode. Flames lit up the dull clouds. Burning wreckage fell to the ground like meteors to crash into the incapacitated Liberator army below.
Marcian gripped the amulet around his neck tightly and looked toward where the mountains had collapsed. Even its mysterious power was not enough to repel the being before him. Standing on the rubble, her golden cloak flapping gently in the breeze was the Supreme. At her side and held in the grip of two Hollowed was Elian. Cassia too was there. The lad wore a simple shirt and trousers, his hands were bound by a thick chain made of White Steel.
Suddenly, the pressure eased slightly. Enough to allow
Marcian to gather his wits and stagger to his feet. Stood between the army and the Supreme was Vavius. The Empowered One held his trembling arms out in front of him.
“I cannot hold her for long!” he shouted falling to his knees. “Get your men out of here!”
Rea hurried to Vavius’s side and added her power of Positivity to his. Marcian shook his head and bellowed for his troops to retreat.
The Liberators turned to flee, but to Marcian’s horror, the Supreme launched herself high into the air and flew over the ravaged battlefield to block their escape. Impossibly, she floated to the ground. Then, she narrowed her eyes and unleashed a scream of unbridled Rage. An unnatural wind began to blow, until it formed into a howling tempest. The upper power of Anger caused her skin to steam until with a blinding flash she was engulfed in flame. She raised her open hands and thrust them at the panicked Liberators. Marcian shouted a warning, but his words were blocked out by the deafening roar of the wind. Fire exploded from the Supreme’s hands in a devastating firestorm that swept across the plain to vaporise thousands of Liberators. The blinding heat blasted Marcian off his feet, but before he was consumed by the flames he was pulled through the air by an invisible hand. He crashed to the ground once more to land at Vavius’s feet. Behind him cowered Rea, Garen and Kasdar. Vavius held up a hand, and to Marcian’s relieve the flames past harmlessly by. Vavius was pale from exhaustion and his limbs trembled.
Once the flame had passed, all that remained were the charred remains of men and horses. Only those soldiers who had been in the front ranks had been spared the flames. Marcian gasped at the sight of the devastation. His entire army lost save for a few hundred musketeers in the blink of an eye.
“Fools,” he stammered. “I was such a fool. To think we could challenge her power.”
Rea helped him to his feet.
“Courage Marcian,” she said.
“This fight is beyond any of you,” Vavius growled, his eyes fixed on the Supreme. “All that matters now is saving Elian. I will do what I can to buy you some time.”
Kasdar shook his head.
“No. I will help you. This could be the only chance we have at killing the bitch.”
Garen placed a hand on his brothers’ shoulder.
“If you stay then I stay too. Get the lad out of here Rea. We will buy you time to escape. Don’t be afraid little one,” the older Gifted said with a smile.
Rea looked at each of them as though they were mad. Tears fell from her eyes. These men had raised her, been her family. She had already lost Tarv and Yin. How many more would she lose?
“I can’t leave you. You’ll die,” she pleaded.
Across the plain, the Supreme slowly stalked towards them, like a predator about to devour its prey.
Garen pulled Rea into an embrace and held her tightly.
“We always knew it would come to this sooner or later little one. My dear Rea, you have your life to live. Get Marcian to safety and do not look back. Save Elian, stop what the bitch intends.”
Gunfire erupted as the surviving Liberators found a semblance of courage and attacked the Supreme. A hundred guns fired, hurling lead balls of death toward the woman who claimed to be a god. The Supreme stopped, held up a hand and the bullets froze mid-air. With a casual flick of her wrists, the balls rotated and shot back towards the gunmen. Scores dropped as their own projectiles ripped through them.
“Go!” Kasdar shouted to Rea. With one last look, she put Marcian’s arm around her shoulder and fled as fast as she could.
*
Elian tried to free himself from his shackles but no matter what he tried; he could not break the White Steel bonds. He closed his eyes and channelled his Anger but even using all his strength, the metal would not break. Cassia chuckled.
“You can’t escape Elian. White Steel is impervious to our powers,” she said before grabbing him by his neck. He tried to struggle but she was too strong.
“Watch as our mother lays waste to your friends.”
*
Vavius moved his neck from side to side and stretched. For years he had known that one day he would face the Supreme face to face.
“If we are to have any chance against her, we must work together,” he said to Kasdar and Garen.
What was left of the Liberators retreated behind them, many had suffered burns, others were in shock at the display of raw power they had witnessed. The way north was now barred by the Supreme, the way south by Cassia and Hollowed. They were trapped.
“I knew you’d come Vavius. You evaded my little trap in Olandis, but in doing so you lured the true prize into my grasp. Does it pain you to realise that everything you believe you have achieved in your pitiful defiance has all been down to my machinations?” The Supreme said, as she slowly stalked towards the Gifted.
“You wounded me greatly when you took our son from me, but you couldn’t even kill a child. Now; he is mine and you and your master’s failure is complete.”
Vavius clenched his fists at her words. Deep down he knew she was right. She had Elian, and he had been her puppet in delivering him straight into her clutches. She had always been manipulating him.
“Betrayer, liar, murderer. I wonder if the fools that stand at your side are even aware of just how much evil you have inflicted on the world and those they love. Perhaps I should show them,” she continued.
She raised a hand. Kasdar and Garen clutched their heads and fell to their knees. Kasdar gasped and his eyes were filled with rage. They weren’t fixed on the Supreme but on Vavius. Slowly, Kasdar rose to his feet.
“You-you traitorous bastard. It’s worse than I even imagined. You joined her. You loved her, gave her a child. You betrayed Corvan-you murdered Cleo.”
Garen too slowly rose to his feet, his expression dark and murderous.
“She’s manipulating your minds,” Vavius said.
The Supreme laughed.
“If you call the cold truth manipulation, then so be it. Kill him.”
With a roar of unbridled fury, Kasdar lunged at Vavius with his cane sword. Vavius dodged the blow but was sent staggering as a wave of nausea hit him. Garen was using his powers of Disgust. Vavius staggered, coughing up blood. His eyes widened. No, Garen was using the upper power of Plague. His insides spasmed painfully making it hard for him to focus. Kasdar attacked again, this time the blade slashed Vavius across his chest. Only the leather armour under his cloak preventing his torso from being sliced open. His eyes filled with tears as Garen pressed his attack. Every pore in his body began to ooze blood and the world span before his eyes. Kasdar attacked again, but Vavius stepped back deflecting the blow with his gauntlets. Behind him, Garen intensified his assault.
“Don’t make me do this,” he gasped through liquifying lungs. Hate was in Kasdar’s eyes, he had no intention of stopping. He wanted him dead. Kasdar dropped his sword into a two-handed grip and prepared to charge. Vavius glanced over his shoulder through tear filled eyes. With a roar, Kasdar dashed forward in a blur. Vavius tapped into Fear and darted to the right. A Shlick and a pained cry sounded,
instantly the grip of Disgust vanished. Vavius turned. Kasdar’s sword had punched deep into his brother’s chest.
Stunned at what he had done, Kasdar withdrew the blade, sending Garen slumping to the ground.
“No!” Kasdar cried.
Blood spurt from Garen’s mouth as Kasdar ran to his side and held him close. The older sibling tried to speak but his eyes widened, and his body went limp. Kasdar sobbed, cradling his brother.
Vavius wiped his eyes and the blood from his face.
“Kasdar, I’m sorry. You-she left me no choice,” he said gasping air into his now cleared lungs.
Mocking laughter echoed over the plain. He fixed his gaze on the Supreme.
He flared Anger and launched himself at her. His first punch was blocked easily, but the second connected solidly with the side of her head. She stumbled, and a flicker of surprise registered in her eyes. The Supreme growled and sla
pped Vavius across the face, throwing him to the ground with one savage blow.
Vavius shook his head. How am I supposed to kill this bitch?
Pushing himself up to his feet, he backed away. The Supreme strode forward. Vavius tapped into Positivity, focusing his power on the many discarded and dropped weapons on the battlefield. With a telekinetic grip, he pulled swords, muskets, cannonballs, anything that he could use as a weapon. Thousands of projectiles swirled around and above him. He launched them at the Supreme, his mastery of Positivity a sight to behold. And yet it wasn’t enough.
The Supreme cursed as she deflected the swarming maelstrom of projectiles. Vavius retreated, using the Supreme’s own countering measures against her. Pulling each item back and whipping them back at her. The fight had become a tug of war between two mighty Empowered Ones.
Suddenly, the Supreme violently pulled the objects toward her staggering Vavius and for a split second causing him to lose his concentration. That was enough. The Supreme blasted outward, pushing against all the items at once. Vavius regained his focus just in time to deflect the incoming storm of death. He narrowed his eyes and pushed the invisible telekinetic barrier he’d created further so that it enveloped Kasdar and Garen in its protective bubble. The Supreme released her grip and the items crashed to the ground, littering it with thousands of discarded and shattered weapons.
“You cannot defeat me Vavius,” the Supreme said.
“Perhaps. But I’m going to try nonetheless,” he replied defiantly.
He settled into a fighting stance. With a flash, she was on him. Her first blow was like lightning. She was so fast. The second felt like being hit by a train, rocking his head back and sending blood flying from his lips. Desperately he parried and blocked, but it was clear that she’d wear him down. He dashed backward and flipped high into the air to land in a crouch. He needed to keep his distance. He winced as he tapped into Joy and healed the numerous broken bones he’d sustained.
The Temple of Arrival Page 22