by TurtleMe
Behind him stood Grawder, his world lion bond.
“Curtis,” I said by way of greeting.
“I thought you’d prefer a familiar face since you’ve never really been around these parts,” he said seriously. “And even if you have been here, so much has changed that I doubt you’d even recognize it.”
“I’ve never actually been here, but you’re right in that this place doesn’t really seem like a city,” I noted, taking in the strange sights.
Everywhere I looked, the city had been redesigned for a single purpose: war. The shops had been converted into workspaces for the armorers, bowyers, weaponsmiths, fletchers, leatherworkers, herbalists, and all manner of other tradesmen working day and night to prepare Dicathen’s soldiers for the oncoming battle. The city plaza before us was filled with tents where unskilled laborers could help by washing and folding cloth, tying arrowheads to wooden shafts, and packaging rations. No one was idle, with everyone either making something or transporting it somewhere.
Soldiers practiced marching in their platoons while their officers barked commands. Alleys were converted into archery ranges were archers stood, positioned almost shoulder to shoulder, launching volleys of arrows at walls fashioned out of haystacks.
“A lot to take in, right?” Curtis said as he guided us towards a large brick tower that stood in the distance. “The entire city has been rearranged to act as the stronghold and production center for the battle. We’re hoping to keep most of the fighting away from the city, stopping their approach at the coast.”
Despite Curtis’s assurances that the battle would be fought elsewhere, it was clear that every inch of Etistin had been fortified to defend against an incursion. But I kept my thoughts to myself as we followed the prince through the winding, constricted streets.
I appreciated the brief tour, though, and Curtis’s lively commentary helped both Sylvie and I relax. Aside from the soldiers doing physical training and combat drills, the mood was light. Everyone seemed very confident despite the three hundred ships making their way toward the city at that very moment.
“I was expecting a very serious and intense atmosphere,” my bond remarked, her head turning from side to side, taking in the sights.
“Well, we’re still a few miles away from the coast where the actual battle will be happening,” Curtis answered, pointing to the thick walls that seemed newly made. “The city has been heavily fortified, of course, and a whole series of escape tunnels have been constructed underneath us to evacuate the civilians if it comes to that, but right now everyone seems pretty confident.
“Anyway, the castle is up this way.” Curtis pointed at the formidable structure, which had been stripped down and refortified into an imposing fortress. Dozens of mages still labored to complete the fortifications, guiding giant stone slabs into place with magic. The castle was situated on a small hill that overlooked the rest of the city. A single soaring tower looked down over the large walls.
“You said General Bairon was waiting for me? Any idea where General Varay might be?” I asked, looking up at the tower.
“She’s currently assisting with the construction off the coast,” Curtis explained before greeting the soldiers guarding the tower entrance.
Sylvie and I looked at each other, confused. “Construction?”
Curtis shot me a grin. “You’ll see when you get up there. Come on.”
We rode up a mana-powered crate and pulley system that took us all the way to the top of the tower.
“Courtesy of Artificer Gideon, who has spent quite a bit of time in this city, working the other artificers and carpenters to their bones,” Curtis explained.
“Gideon?” I repeated, looking carefully around the inside of the crate. “Is he around? I’ve been meaning to check in with him regarding his progress with the train system.”
“No, I don’t believe he’s in Etistin at the moment. I think he was traveling with General Mica to Darv. Something related to the Earthmovers’ Guild, which has been responsible for much of the work done in the cities.”
Too bad, I thought. I would have liked to see the old man.
“Anyway, the main room is just up those stairs, but there’s a window on this floor as well. You should take a look.”
Curious, Sylvie and I walked towards the far end of the circular room, which appeared to be a lounge. Another soldier guarded the base of the stairs.
We peered out of the viewing window, and at first, we didn’t know exactly what we were supposed to be looking at. My eyes scanned the mountain range to the north of Etistin, then panned south until my gaze landed on the shoreline of the Etistin Bay.
Without a doubt, that was what Curtis wanted us to see.
Sylvie let out a small gasp and my jaw dropped.
Filling up over half of the bay, which was more than a mile wide, was an expanse of ice and snow, created to make it more difficult for the approaching ships to make a landing.
“Incredible, isn’t it? This is what General Varay has been working on.” Curtis rested his forearms on the window ledge. “The largest battle of this war will be held on this glacial field.”
232
Resounding Horns
I was amazed by the conjuration of such a vast phenomenon, even more so since it was done by only one person. It seemed likely that General Varay would be exhausted by now, but the job had been well done.
I was curious as to the sort of strategy Virion and the rest of the Council had devised to utilize this ice field. I was given minimal information on the specific formations, deployment, and maneuvering of troops before I left the castle. Hopefully General Bairon would help clarify the details.
“Ready to go up, General?” Curtis asked.
Nodding, I followed the prince to the single set of stairs leading to the floor above, Sylvie right behind me. At the top of the stairs, we entered what I assumed was the strategic hub for the battle here, and I was immediately reminded of the situation rooms from my time as Grey back on Earth.
There were rows of desks with people sitting in front of large piles of transmission scrolls instead of computers. They were all faced towards the center of the circular room with a view of General Bairon, who was standing on an elevated podium that was looking over a large earthen table with an uneven surface and a large glass orb perched on top of an intricate artifact. Surrounding this artifact were over a dozen mages on standby.
While I was curious about the purpose of the clear orb, I was more interested in the earthen table, which I quickly realized was a rough depiction of the soon-to-be battlefield. A dwarven mage stood next to the table, his hands raised over it as he manipulated the earth into the appropriate form.
General Bairon Wykes, older brother of Lucas Wykes, was currently discussing something about the march. When he finally turned to look at me, his expression was controlled, although a slight twitch in his eyebrows hinted at the deep animosity that I’m sure still roiled underneath the surface. Still, considering he had tried to kill me when we had first met, and would have succeeded had Olfred not stopped him, I felt like we were making great strides.
“General Bairon,” I greeted curtly, walking up to the earthen war-table.
“General Leywin,” he replied, not bothering to step down from his podium.
I studied the layout of the war-table, noticing the small earthen figures representing the troops.
“I’m assuming this information isn’t real-time, right?” I asked.
“No it isn’t, General Arthur,” the dwarf answered respectfully. “I’m only able to roughly gauge and track the progress from the reports we receive via transmission scroll.”
“And what is this giant orb?” I asked, looking to Bairon for an answer.
“It’s an artifact that works as a medium for the diviners present,” he answered.
“How are the diviners getting information from the battlefield?”
“These mages you see here are elite deviants capable of scrying by sharing sen
ses with their bonded beasts. The diviners will be able to draw images from the scryers’ minds and project them into the orb,” Bairon replied, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Is there anything else I can explain for you, General Leywin?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be joining the other Lances on the battlefield. I already declined your position,” I said sarcastically, annoyed by the Lance’s attitude.
“At least you had the brains to refuse it. Tens of thousands of soldiers’ lives rest on the choices made in this room,” Bairon retorted. “If you can’t even keep your own family alive, how will you keep the soldiers out there from dying needlessly?”
“What did you say?” I snarled, the rage I had carried within me from the moment I saw my father’s remains instantly boiling over.
“You heard me, boy,” Bairon replied, a smug smile breaking across his usually serious face.
“Both of you, stop,” my bond demanded, stepping between us. “And retract your mana.”
Looking around, I could see that the pressure Bairon and I were exerting was straining the people present in the room, all of whom looked at us fearfully. Calming myself, I glared at Bairon as I held up a hand. “Give me the debrief papers you received from the Council and we’ll be on our way.”
Bairon reluctantly handed me the folder. In it were dozens of pages highlighting relevant information and several transmission scrolls.
Eager to be gone from the general’s presence, I made my way to the exit, stopping just short of the doorway leading to the stairs, Curtis and Sylvie beside me. “And General Bairon? Lest the men here get the wrong impression, I want to assure them that we are on the same side. We all make mistakes, and we all suffer losses. We’ve both lost family members in this fight, haven’t we?”
I passed over the high city walls that marked the edge of Etistin perched on Sylvie’s back. I was turned around backwards, using my body as a wind break so I could read through the notes outlining the coming battle. Below us, lines of soldiers marched through the hills that led down to the Etistin Bay. Above us, low gray clouds were blowing in, and I could feel the moisture in the air.
Something’s not adding up, I thought to myself, my eyes scouring over the estimated numbers of the approaching Alacryan forces.
‘What’s wrong?’ Sylvie replied, noticing my concern.
It’s just that, if I were the Alacryan general, there is no way I would initiate a full scale battle like this.
I could sense the confusion from my bond, so I elaborated what was on my mind.
From what we’d gathered, the Vritra had been preparing for this war for many years now, from smuggling in spies like Headmaster Goodsky to poisoning and corrupting the mana beasts. They’d manipulated the dwarves into supporting them and secretly installed teleportation gates deep within the dungeons of the Beast Glades.
This all happened right under our noses, much of it before Dicathen even knew that another continent existed!
Considering this, it seemed counterintuitive for them to suddenly abandon their machinations and face us head on.
If the numbers I’d been provided were accurate, their force were huge, and since they were arriving by ship, their resources were limited. The journey here must’ve already drained their food and water supply by a considerable amount. They had no way to reinforce or resupply their troops, and there was nowhere for them to retreat to if we claimed the upper hand.
Of course, their specialized mages were a more well-oiled and cohesive military force than our soldiers were, giving them an edge in combat. We vastly outnumbered them, though, even if it would take time to mobilize all of our forces.
Was I overthinking things? Perhaps the Alacryans just wanted to wrap this up. I already knew that Agrona wanted to avoid an unnecessarily high death count on either side, as his real fight was against the asuras in Epheotus, so maybe he thought that achieving victory in a formal battle like this would end the war cleanly?
‘Maybe you should’ve taken the strategic general position,’ Sylvie suggested after absorbing all of my thoughts on the information I’d been provided. ‘You have a stronger strategic mind than Bairon, and our soldiers deserve leaders who will spend their lives wisely. After what happened at the Wall—’
No. Bairon is a real bastard, but he’s no Trodius. He’s a Lance, and he’s right. I don’t have a stable enough mindset to make those kinds of decisions right now, not when I know that each of their deaths would be caused by the choices I make.
I couldn’t play chess using the lives of our soldiers as pawns when I already felt responsible for the death of my father.
“Focus, Arthur. We have a war to finish,” I said aloud, slapping my cheeks.
With General Bairon helming the battle, I was but a soldier assigned a mission. In a way, this was easier. My hands would get bloody instead of my soul.
Fly a bit lower, Sylv, I sent to my bond, closing the folder Bairon had given me and turning around.
Sylvie folded her wings and dived down until I could make out the shapes of the individual soldiers marching below.
With a wave of my arms, I released a blast of fire, then intertwined tendrils of lightning through the flames, and finally conjured a series of wind-blades that chased each other round and round the conflagration, creating a spectacular elemental light show in the sky.
Catching onto what I was doing, Sylvie raised her head and opened her large jaws to let out a deafening roar.
Hearing the cheers and shouts from the troops below, I couldn’t help but smile.
‘That was a bit childish of us, no?’ my bond asked, her deep chuckle vibrating up through my legs.
Not at all, Sylv. Morale is one of the most overlooked but important aspects of large-scale battles, I replied.
Shortly thereafter, we reached Etistin Bay.
The first thing we noticed was the temperature. As we approached the conjured field of snow and ice, I felt a biting chill eating through the thin barrier of mana I created to protect myself whenever I flew.
Varay was truly on another level compared to the rest of the other Lances. While I’d like to say that I could beat Varay in a one-on-one battle, I wasn’t sure I could. I had Sylvia’s dragon will, was a quadra-elemental conjurer, and my fighting prowess was perhaps unmatched on Dicathen, but Varay’s power and control over her mana seemed absolute. Having her as an ally was incredibly reassuring.
Sylvie landed at the threshold where the coastal beaches became ice. It was as if a frozen wasteland had fallen from the sky, burying half of the bay in the process and warping the land around it; clouds of frosted breath rose up from the rows of infantry already gathered along the beachfront as they stood in tense silence. The mood was dark, and there was an ominous foreboding lingering in the frigid air.
Even with the captains shouting encouragement and trying to boost morale, I could almost see the weight of death that they carried on their shoulders. With so many eyes on me, I outwardly remained impassive, but my stomach churned at the sight of these soldiers all lined up, waiting to fight and die. I tried not to dwell on it. I tried to bring back that detached, emotionless state I had relied so heavily on during my life as King Grey.
Some of the soldiers seemed so young, many even younger than me, and it was the young men and women in particular who stared up at me as if begging me to impart upon them the strength to face the battle to come. I met their eyes, as many as I could, giving them nods and encouraging smiles, and I’d like to think that our presence did give many of the soldiers hope.
“General Arthur, welcome.” The frigid-smooth voice cut through the drifting mist like the beam of a lighthouse, and the entire atmosphere seemed to change. The silhouette of an armor-clad woman stepped into view, as elegant and fierce as a leopard.
“General Varay,” I greeted my fellow Lance with a genuine smile.
She stretched out her hand, shaking mine firmly. I could tell she was making it a point to display our composure to the infantry troops, and
I mimicked her air of confident readiness. Sylvie, who remained in her draconic form, lowered her head to let Varay gently touch her snout.
We walked together towards the back of the line while the white-haired general explained the basic formations and maneuvers they had planned. Most of what she told me had been contained in the briefing I read on the way here, but it was different seeing it all laid out in front of me.
We passed row after row of infantry soldiers—augmenters and non-mages alike—organized into three phases. These would be the first men to charge in, meeting our enemies as they attempted to storm the beach.
It was clear when we reached the conjurers; spears and axes were replaced by staves and wands, and instead of armor, most of these men and women wore simple robes. Within the lines of conjurers and archers, I saw a few familiar faces.
The first was Captain Auddyr, standing tall behind his troop of elite augmenters, who were a part of the barrier line that would support and protect the conjurers should the enemy break this far into our formation. I had met the captain when I was deployed on my first mission, which soon after became the Battle of Slore. He was wearing a conspicuously extravagant set of armor, of course. We exchanged a short glance, and the only greeting I was shown was a slight nod of his head before he turned back to his troops.
The second familiar face was Madam Astera, who, I noticed, was no longer disguised as a cook, but had donned simple armor and wore two longswords across her back with ease. We had met on that same mission and had occasion to spar with one another. I knew her to be a strong combatant and a respected leader. I recognized some of her soldiers as well: the overconfident Nyphia, and the thuggish Herrick, both of whom had tried to best me in a duel but failed.
Madam Astera shot me a grin and mouthed the words, “looking good,” while her soldiers looked awestruck. I winked playfully at Nyphia and Herrick, eliciting a blush from one and chagrined smile from the other.
We climbed a steep set of stone stairs that followed the incline of the terrain just east of Etistin Bay.