by JW Baccaro
“I know. I recognize the meditation.”
"I have been this way all night, praying to Abidan, preparing myself for battle. Well, once I discovered this neat little spot." He spoke the angelic words Olchemy taught him, to change the Golden Crystal back into a necklace, and then put it on.
Nayland once overheard Darshun talking about the Golden Crystal, how it has the ability to transform into a necklace, and vice-versa; now finally he witnessed for himself. "Interesting." He sat down on the dewy grass and for the fist minute or so remained quiet, just glancing around. Then, he made eye contact with the Guardian. “Darshun, I do not know what the fate of today's battle shall be, but I just wanted to tell you, Nasharin to Nasharin, brother to brother, that I am on your side, and that I am honored to fight with you. Though I deserve it not, I pray you will forgive me for my previous actions. I have no excuse.”
“Of course I forgive you,” Darshun answered immediately.
"I know now my past was not your fault nor Mirabel’s. That necklace you wear revealed to me the truth when I was fighting Valnar. When it shinned into my eyes time seemed to rewind. I saw you as a child, taken from your parents. I saw the enemy strap you down to be sacrificed, then the heroic acts of Mirabel and Seth Caelen, storming in to save you." He put his head down. "And I saw how my father treated—your father. Mirabel killed a platoon of Cullach and rescued one of our own kind—you. He’s a hero, not a heathen. I loved my father, but admit he spoke wrongly. From now on, I vow to fight with the earth’s Guardian until the very end—whether that end leads to death or not.”
Darshun nearly fell to tears while overwhelmed by his words…After all, these are the words of Nayland! "You are my brother and we’re the last of our kind, therefore we must always band together and remain true to one another."
"Remain true, aye? Sounds good. Even if we lose today's battle, I will die in peace knowing that."
"About the coming battle, though we are outnumbered greatly, nevertheless, we will be triumphant. I’ve foreseen many things over the passing hours of darkness. Abidan has given us a mighty gift, a sign to tell the Dark that the Light is coming." He stretched out his hand, clasping Nayland’s and for the first time—they shook hands as friends.
“I do not know what you are talking about but I will trust it,” Nayland responded. “Now, let us go to the battlefield and prepare to crush these foes, once and for all.”
* * *
As the sun rose up and over Arundel Mountain, shining its magnificent rays down the meadow slopes and dewy green brush, those among the camp woke, re-starting the fires from last night. Many having a breakfast of eggs, chicken sausage, wild strawberries and a variety of vegetables. Along with oats and nutty breads brought from the Elves with coffee and tea, altogether a perfect formula of energy for their bodies—then they prepared for battle. They took their stations upon the field—a large field having two sets of woodlands on the left and right sides and a steep uprising of grassland in the far distance.
Scouts remained at the top of that hill overnight, now witnessing the approaching Dark Army, like a swarm of insects dawning closer and closer. The scouts rushed down to take their positions and warn that the onslaught would be just moments away. Fortunately, the sun had completely risen, therefore unable to aid the enemy during the first charge.
Lord Caelestias, Captain Strizar, King Loreus, Captain Mythaen and the Nasharins stood at the front line, beside Darshun. Favonius and Kaylis were stationed there as well, while the Men and Elves stood behind them, forming multiple lines of infantry. The High Wizard Olchemy sat upon Uriel to the right side of the army.
Then, they waited.
For a while it seemed quiet, not a sound could be heard but the slight howl of the wind. Not even the morning birds sang; the animals of the forest could sense a great evil approaching. Then the ground began to tremble, the vibrations gradually increasing and a sound like rolling thunder echoed across the field as the Dark Army rose over the hill. Their numbers were overwhelming while among the front lines sat Draconians on top of strange dragon-like creatures. Theses creatures stood about ten feet high with dark scaly skin, dragon-like heads, four legs and a tail. There were at least three thousand. Behind them stood the infantry, Cullach and additional Draconians. After those ranks were three massive lines of Dark Elves whose numbers were at least six to seven thousand; and finally, at the very rear, sitting on a chariot, were the Dark King and Queen of Asgoth.
Darshun, with his advanced vision, saw them well, especially Talvenya.
“So they are using the Draoniae,” Mirabel noted.
“What, those four legged monsters?” Kaylis asked.
He nodded. “Land Dragons from the south. Over the years of creation they lost the ability to fly and adapted to land, but still breathe fire, and move fast. It appears they will be sending them first.”
Kaylis looked dreadfully afraid. “Wow, I have never been in such a battle before.”
Nayland placed a hand on his shoulder. “Remember what you did to that Bonnsag?"
Kaylis chuckled, once again getting a laugh out of that word or name, or whatever 'Bonnsag' truly is. There seemed to be something funny about hearing or say Bonnsag.
"Well, you will do the same here my brother. Fight by my side and I promise you shall live.”
Kaylis smiled and much of his despair vanished. If Nayland had faith in him there must be little to worry about. Then again, ever since they were kids his ‘little’ brother always believed in him.
* * *
Across the field, Tanarokai stood ready, especially after a long night of meditation, awakening sleeping powers he seldom used. He seemed prepared to unleash the full force of his might today.
Talvenya could feel the energy pouring off him like she’d never felt before. Had she underestimated the King’s power all this time? The answer would soon be put to the test.
“Look at them,” Tanarokai scoffed, gazing at the army of Light. “How pitiful! Do they really think they have a chance against us?”
“My King, I desire to know who the leader of these rebels is,” Queen Talvenya ignored his scoffing. “And how they were able to destroy Valnar. Let us send forth scouts with the flag of compromise.”
“I do not see the point. After the first charge it will all be over anyhow.”
“Most definitely. But let us not underestimate the enemy, for Nasharins are among them.” In truth, Talvenya wanted to make sure Darshun was present, and hypothesized he would be the one to march out to compromise. Then she would put all her focus on seeking him out during the battle.
“As you wish my Queen.”
After the commandment was given the enemy scouts rode out carrying a gray flag.
* * *
“What?” Favonius exclaimed. “They wish to—compromise?”
“By all means no,” Mirabel warned. “They have no intentions of letting any of us live. Since we destroyed Valnar’s Tower, a task nearly impossible to achieve, they wish to know what warriors stand among us, perhaps even looking for you, Darshun.”
“Then I shall speak with them,” Darshun replied and attempted to run out.
“Ride upon me.” Favonius offered.
“Is that not a forbidden custom?” Darshun asked, remembering his father telling him about the Centaur creatures long ago. That no mortal can ride them like one rides and commands a horse.
“Not for the Guardian of earth,” Favonius replied. “For this situation it is entirely different. Now come.”
Darshun did as he said, climbing upon the large stallion, seating himself on his lower torso, the feel of the fur seemed rough, and part of his mane blew back in Darshun's face—an odd sight indeed, as if the Centaur belonged to Darshun. In a sense, he did, for the mighty Nasharin, after all, was his Guardian. Favonius brought him out to the enemy scouts.
Three Cullach, suited in sparkling crimson armor, their yellow-brown eyes sternly on them. However, Darshun's glare easily melted away any ‘intimi
dation’ they’d hoped to give. Fear held their tongue.
“What is it you wish to compromise, heathens?” Darshun asked.
“…The Ki—King of Asgoth offers you—you pardon,” one of them announced.
“Does he now?”
“…Yes. In return— he only asks for the leader and first ranks of your people, the ones responsible for your actions against Valnar’s Tower. He promises if these criminals should give themselves up, then he shall let the rest of your people go free. And that—”
“Silence!” Darshun shouted with a voice like thunder. “There is no promise the Dark is capable to keep. For you know not the meaning of honor or loyalty, only greed and hatred! But the Light speaks the Truth. So now I give you a proposition to bring back to your heathen King. Tell him to cast down his army’s weapons, retreat into the shadows and never show himself or any of his dark foes again, until the great Day of Judgment shall come. Do this and I shall spare all of you.”
“You— spare us?” The scouts looked as if they wanted to laugh. "Can you not see the odds here? We outnumber you fifty fold—"
“Do it not!” Darshun said raising his voice, making it clear his ‘offer’ was not yet finished. “Then I will destroy this pathetic army of darkness entirely.”
“Who are you?”
“Nasharin warrior Darshun Luthais, leader of this army, and Guardian of earth.”
The scouts were speechless, especially coming to find out they were speaking face to face with the same Nasharin they all witnessed fight in the Arena at Castle Volborg, the one who killed Prince Sicarius! Yes, his face looked familiar, and now his mightiness showed clearly. They backed up to retreat.
“One more thing,” Darshun interjected. “Tell the Queen I send my regards, and to weep no longer for her son. She will be joining him soon.”
They retreated and scarcely reported it to the Queen, fearing her wrath.
* * *
"So the Nasharin is still alive, and leader of them," Tanarokai stated, not really addressing a question, merely speaking aloud. "Ha, Abaddon failed after all."
Talvenya remained silent. She did not move. She did not blink. Memories flashed through her head of a time not so long ago, when Darshun fearlessly confronted her in Castle Volborg, in her own chambers nonetheless! While kissing her King. She recalled the mockeries…
“Why, your 'witch' of a goddess underestimated the power of my race, as you all have. A grave mistake indeed…There are no guards around at the moment. I suspect they will be coming soon though. To be fair, I will wait for them. Perhaps you will have a better chance of survival. Though it is unlikely, but decide yourself when you wish to die. Now, or in a few moments. I will be standing here, waiting patiently…To be honest, I am a little hungry. Before I ‘effortlessly’ slay both of you, do you think I could have something to eat?
So, I guess no food huh? Well okay. Which one of you wants to die first?
You should listen to your King. If he is the first to challenge me among you ‘cowards’ he would have a better chance with his toy. Though in the end it won’t matter.”
“That arrogant Nasharin, confronting me with no fear? Who did he think he was?” The worst mockery of them all flashed through her thoughts, when the High Wizard Levieth addressed her after taking a look at Darshun, saying, "Really Talvenya, why did you unveil such strength to kill a mere man like him? Let me guess, he called you ‘witch.?’ "
And then Darshun's response, while at the same time having a ridiculous grin. “Is that not what she is?”
“He mocked my power, my authority and he mocked me—in the presence of the High Wizard! Now he mocks my life by the death of my son?”
“My Queen, are you all right?” Tanarokai asked, overhearing Talvenya whispering.
She glared into Tanarokia’s eyes. “Darshun is mine!”
"Very well." He looked to the scouts. "Send word throughout the army to kill all except the Nasharin Darshun, the one who wields Fire Magic. He will be evident by his form. Anyone who slays him, purposely or accidentally, shall have to answer to the Queen and suffer the most excruciating of deaths.”
The command would be well heeded indeed. For no one wanted to fall under the Dark Queen’s wrath. Even now, all could feel her rage and dared not look upon her.
“Send forth the Draoniae and burn the majority of that army to ashes. This will be a short battle indeed.”
* * *
Across the field, all knew what was about to transpire and many were afraid, naturally. To be facing off against an army of such magnitude one would be a fool, or at least ‘unnatural’ to not be afraid.
So, as Darshun faced his army and every eye fell upon him.
Long, honey-brown hair swaying in a mild breeze, blue eyes glistening from the early-morning light, he spoke in a rather loud commanding voice, “Men and Elves of the earth! Do not fear the vile that stands before us. True they are many, but they fight for selfish gain, caring nothing about the earth and her creatures. What we fight for can never be defeated, giving us that inner-power and will to win.”
“What is that?” a Loreladian soldier randomly shouted out.
“Honor, loyalty, selflessness; most of all a pure love to protect all that is sacred, and a pure hate to vanquish those seeking to destroy it. Do not forget Abidan, the God of the Light, one who has no beginning or end, is on our side! I promise that on this very day we shall be victorious and the Dark shall know that the Light has come and will not burn out until every last breath is gone. To Abidan give the glory, to the Light victory!”
They shouted, cheering Darshun on and he felt happy to get them all excited and prepared for what they were about to face. Then Darshun stood toward the enemy and held his ground.
“No matter what happens Darshun,” Mirabel whispered to him, “I am very proud of you.”
He glanced back at him, with a smile. "See you after the battle."
Now it seemed to be the army of darkness’ turn to get excited. They roared and sang chants of evil and songs of slaughter, full-heartedly believing they would be triumphant before the day ended. Then the command was given, the Draconians charged forward on their land dragons. Every step of the way the ground shook, trembling as if an earthquake was spawning. The fire-breathing reptilians were closing in fast.
Inexplicably, the Light remained still waiting for Darshun’s call, for his—gift he’d promised them. He stepped further into the field and held up his sword. He began to speak in the angelic tongue and a red glow surrounded him, not like his natural fire aura this one shined smoothly like a shell of energy. Instantly, the sky darkened and red light shone in the air.
The enemy didn’t seem to notice and increased their speed; closer and closer they came, now just moments away from the Light. The reptiles looked fierce, deadly, puffing smoke out their nostrils, preparing to cast a wall of flame together and trample all in their path. Then the Draconians glanced above from the increasing light and halted in their tracks, dreadfully afraid. Within the sky floated a massive cloud of red fire; within that fire were angelic-winged beings, some having the appearance of beautiful males, others beautiful females, yet all held weapons: swords, bows, axes, spears, whips and spiked maces—all engulfed in flame; and a kind of ‘burning holiness’ shone in their eyes—a glare of judgment.
“Delmorden Sephyras!” Darshun shouted in the angelic tongue, which means ‘judgment of fire’ and the cloud descended upon the three thousand Draconians riding the Draoniae. Horrid shouts and fearful screams erupted from the enemies’ mouths as the Holy Angels cut them to pieces and then a massive explosion took place, reaching the heavens.
“What type of magic is this?” Tanarokai asked, fear in his tone. “No one has magic as this!”
After minutes of flames and heat the fire vanished and the sky regained its light once again. Between the two armies remained a great mound of ash. The Angels vanquished the enemies. The gift Darshun spoke about, also a sign to the Dark—the Light is coming
!
“CHARGE!!!” Darshun shouted with great rage and the Men and Elves heeded his call.
Tanarokai, never daring to back down, commanded his army to attack as well and soon the two armies met with a great clash. Swords hacked away, axes grinded, body parts flew off, bones cracked, splintered and broke—blood splattered everywhere. The fighting became fierce but the Dark despite their high numbers were quickly being overrun, for the Nasharins, the Elves and Men fought with such passion the Dark had never seen. It became a death zone and they began to regret the day they reckoned with the Light.
Having their numbers greatly diminished, the infantry of the enemy fell back and scattered off to the sides and the Dark Elves attacked with all the Sythra arrows they possessed. Explosions erupted everywhere as the arrows rained down across the battleground causing multiple fatalities and brewing a wall of fire and smoke between the two armies, giving Tanarokai's infantry a chance to regroup.
Then out of the clouds, with a great gusting of wind, swooped Uriel breathing fire upon the Dark Elves. Olchemy called down lightning bolts and cast beams of white-gold lights from his staff which he called the “Holy Light.” The beams vaporized every foe they touched, like light eradicating darkness. However, the battle was far from over. For as the flames from the Sythra and Uriel scorched the battlefield still separating the two armies, the Dark rapidly regrouped and despite all their losses, they still greatly outnumbered the Light and were about to unleash their own full rage.
“How do we get through these flames?” King Loreus asked.
The answer came as Minevara transformed and unleashed nearly all her strength by blowing a storm of mist and ice out of her mouth to extinguish the flames. The further the mist spread, the wider it became. Nayland assisted by casting wind to carry her ice storm further along, wiping out a long section of the inferno wall.