Loss and Sacrifice

by Andrew Day

was stained beyond recovery.

  But they were winning. That much was clear. The main body of the enemy was slowly being forced backwards, back towards the fortress and the lake of burning lava. As fierce as they were, the Lok’Chang fought with the vigour of men with nothing to lose. Soon the enemy’s rearmost ranks had their backs to the bubbling lava.

  Between kills, Altian glanced about and found the flying banner of the cavalry division that was behind his, led by the officer he thought of as the Believer.

  On horseback, the cavalry charged forward through the ranks weakened by Altian’s men. As the enemy was forced against the very rim of the volcano’s crater, to the bridge that spanned the lake of lava, a horse pulled alongside Altian, and a sword deftly decapitated the bird leg he had been fighting.

  “Where is the General?” the Believer asked.

  “I don’t know,” Altian yelled back. “Go for the bridge! We need to take the bridge!”

  The Believer gave a cold smile. “The Emperor’s will cannot be denied!” he said with determination. He yelled to his men, “Charge! Take the bridge!” Then he kicked his horse, and rode fearlessly through the enemy towards his goal.

  None of the creatures had the desire to retreat. They fought mindlessly, without thought of themselves. As the Lok’Chang pushed forwards, some of the enemy fell backwards and went over the edge into the crater, plummeting down to the boiling inferno below.

  The cavalry fought through, and galloped victoriously onto the bridge. The Believer was smiling. His men rode together along its length towards the fortress, packed too tightly together. Then his smile vanished.

  From out of the shadows of the fortress’s ruined gate slithered two figures. They had long bodies, and walked upon a multitude of legs, like millipedes. The top half of their bodies was held erect, and was covered in a dark robe, with a thick hood obscuring their faces.

  The believer lifted his sword, and approached. As they came within ten metres of the creatures, the hooded monsters lifted their arms up, as if reaching forward to their opponents. The sleeves of their robes hung baggy and empty. The black opening gaped like a mouth.

  Then to the astonishment of all, a blinding light erupted from the sleeves of the creatures. Five long tendrils of white light shot from each of the openings, whipping through the air with ferocity. They seemed to float weightlessly through the air, like ribbons, or streamers that children often twirled overhead at parades and celebrations. The Believer stared mesmerised as the glowing ribbons whipped over and through his body, and the bodies of his first five men, and then snapped back into the hidden shadows within the creatures’ robes.

  For a few seconds, the Believer sat in the saddle, staring blankly. Then his body fell into several neatly cut pieces, the edges of which were all neatly cauterised, still smoking.

  The hoods slithered forward into range of their next targets, and lashed out a second time, slicing up the men behind with lethal precision. The men and their mounts dropped into pieces upon the stone bridge. The others attempted to turn their horse to retreat and regroup, but the width of the bridge was too narrow, and the men too close together. In their panic, they drove their horses too close to the edge. The horses slipped and went over, taking the men upon their backs on a final ride down to the lava, as the hoods advanced, striking out again and again. The twenty white ribbons rippled through the air continuously, cutting apart anything that came too close.

  Finally the men at the rear turned their horses and rode off the bridge and back into the midst of the fighting. Behind them, the bridge was littered with the butchered remains of men and horses, and its two guardians waited motionless in the middle of its span.

  Altian saw what had happened and swore under his breath. It was clear that he was now the closest one to the bridge. Without hesitation, he called out to rally his men, just as a large shadow fell over him. Something large and powerful slammed into him and sent him to the ground.

  He quickly clambered to his feet, and then immediately threw himself back down again, narrowly dodging the huge flaming blade that swung wildly over his head. Altian looked up, and saw the archangel Illociah sitting upon its black stone horse with sword in hand.

  The angel swung again, and a nearby soldier fell to the ground, his body in flames. A nearby spearman saw the angel, and without thinking, thrust the point of his weapon at the creature. The angel’s horse shifted at the last minute, and the point plunged undeterred into its throat.

  There was a loud crack, and the entire stone horse unexpectedly imploded in on itself, fast and violently as its spirit was removed. The angel made one furious beat of its wings, and launched itself off of its collapsing mount and into the air. It made a quick circle overhead, and then landed behind the spearman who had killed its mount, already swinging its great sword sideways to take the poor man’s head from his shoulders. Then it turned its fury onto Altian.

  Sparks flew as Altian lifted his blade and parried the first blow. He was quicker than the angel, and danced speedily around it, dodging and blocking the flaming sword with his own. But the angel attacked tirelessly, each blow sending a long vibrating wave through Altian’s blade and up his arm.

  Suddenly, a mounted swordsman rode past and leapt from the saddle, flying at the angel. It was the General. The angel lifted one wing and battered the man away without a second thought. The General hit the ground and rolled to Altian’s feet, as ten men remaining from the General’s lead division charged at the angel, swarming over it in a cloud of swinging, hacking sword blades.

  The angel defended itself with ease, using its wings as shields, and swinging its flaming sword through the air with surgical precision. With one stroke, it cut through three of the men, barely grazing their skins, yet the flames from its blade leapt onto their clothes and set them alight. Seeing an opening, one man darted forwards, and stabbed the angel in the side. The angel grunted, and smashed in the man’s skull with the hilt of its sword before knocking away the body with a sweep of its wing.

  Altian tried to help the General to his feet, and was roughly pushed away.

  “Take the bridge,” the General spat at him. “Before any reinforcements come. Go now!”

  He lifted his sword, and charged off to join the fight against the angel. Altian called to his men, and ran to the bridge, not looking back when someone else began to scream and burn.

  With what little force remained of his men, Altian stepped onto the bridge, and stopped. In the middle of its span, the two hooded creatures seemed to stare at him, waiting for him to draw closer. He noticed a disembodied arm lying on the ground, amidst the ruin of several dozen other men, and pulled the sword from the lifeless grasp of its hand.

  “Do not charge until you see an opening,” he told the men behind him without turning. Already, a brief plan began to formulate in his mind. He lifted the two swords, and walked slowly towards the bridge’s guardians.

  He had gotten to within ten metres when the first slithered forward on its many legs, lifted its arms, and whipped out its ten long, glowing fingers towards him. The white ribbons snaked through the air towards him, and like lightening, he threw up his swords, and battered them away.

  There was a shower of sparks, but neither the ribbon nor the blade broke. The guardian flicked its wrist, and thrashed the ribbons at Altian, over and over, and each time Altian knocked them away with his sword. His arms began to ache, and the blades began to glow orange with heat. It would not be long before they shattered. From the corner of his vision, he saw the second hood moving forward to join its companion. It lifted its arms, and Altian took a chance.

  He pushed all ten ribbons aside with the blade of his right sword, and threw his left sword at the second hood. The sword flew through the air, turning end over end, until finally it impacted blade first into the creature’s chest. The force of the blow twisted it to the left, just as its weapons shot out from its sleeves. The five ribbons whipped about as the creature pivoted, and sliced across its comp
anion.

  The ten ribbons of light whipping at Altian went limp, and fell to the ground, their light extinguished. The first creature dropped in six neat pieces, and shattered on the ground. The other stared at its fallen brethren stupidly, perhaps in shock, the sword still sticking from its chest. Then, from the damage the heated blade inflicted, it collapsed and broke upon the bridge.

  Altian did not stop for a moment, not even to catch his breath. He cast his heated and now useless sword over the side of the bridge, and plucked one from the wrecked bodies on the ground. Then with his men behind him, many in awe, he charged over the bridge and into the fortress.

  A bird legged creature appeared at the entrance, and was cut down by the men before it could react. Altian ran through the long ruined gate, and emerged in the courtyard of the fortress. He gaped at what he saw.

  Sitting upon a raised platform in the centre of the courtyard was a portal. This one was different from the one that had taken them to the Otherworld. It was bright blue, glowing and rippling like the surface of a lake that had been taken and placed against all reason to stand vertically. It seemed to Altian that this one led somewhere that was not in his world. Heaven perhaps?

  He had no time to ponder. As he watched, the portal rippled, and a human shaped