“Stop this war,” she heard hauntingly. “Stop hunting the druids.” It rippled throughout her subconscious.
Her hatred rose to seethe her skin. “This is their fault,” she grumbled. Her fingers curled, digging her nails against the surface of the windows with a crackling whine.
The pouting fullness of her cherubic mouth quivered. A flash of Autumn's body arcing upward to live as the fertile alter to which Aurea knelt and prayed both infuriated and enslaved the Empress. She shook with its vividness.
“She chose her path,” she glowered. “Now I choose mine. If I am to suffer then so will she.” She shoved off the windows walking with burning eyes toward the doors. The golden train at her back glided over the ground as if carried by the currents of her hatred alone. “Let her pains start by the loss of her beloved druids.”
********
For days, the tap of hammers became an ominous sound. It signified the arrival of a newly posted imperial decree.
As people gathered around the hanging documents accented with the Empress' seal, gasps filled the air. Throughout the land these proclamations read:
The druids ----once thought to be divine by their closeness to all things holy---- have fallen from grace. They are but mortal men, who have abandoned their righteous faith by surrendering to mortal desires. They have been swayed by the witches of Lucidia. Together, they work to undermine the good deeds of the Empress.
Any druids within the land are to be feared and reported upon sight. Any aiding of the traitorous brotherhood will result in immediate punishment from the Empress' enforcers. Information regarding their nesting grounds for rebellious cells will be rewarded in gold.
The Pyrosians looked from one another in dire shock, disbelieving what both their eyes and ears had told them. Could it be? Were the druids truly in league with the Lucidians? Surely it must be so because the Empress, herself, had made the claim.
They walked away from the news, carrying it upon their shoulders as a bitter burden. This was but the first of many weights to touch their souls.
During the desperate times of war, when supplies were beginning to grow more costly, gold would greatly help so many. Still, would it be enough to inspire the motivation needed for betrayal?
One by one as the weeks went on, the ailments of a heavy heart were forgotten or in part mended by a heavy purse. During those times, it became hard for neighbors to hold one another's gaze. Trust among brothers grew painfully scarce. Those who did aid the resistance did so with all the more secrecy while living in the constant fear that at any moment their actions would be uncovered by the enforcers.
Each day, the Empress' vice grip upon the land grew to unprecedented levels. She oversaw all with a cool disposition from her palace walls.
Aurea would have all she wanted and more. This had been the promise she had made to herself. It was only a matter of time before everything and so much more was hers and hers alone.
As Aurea watched over the land, the very name of 'druid' was becoming synonymous with treachery.
“Highness,” she heard.
The bewitching blond turned her head slightly. She listened to the report coming from over her shoulder.
“Soren was seen outside of Blessed Vine. The Knights are drawing in on him. It's only a matter of time before he's apprehended.”
Aurea's smile played slowly across her lips. “Good,” she purred.
The messenger's unwillingness to leave inspired the Empress to turn. She looked to her with frosty patience.
Forcing herself to swallow her fears, the messenger delivered the news which she knew would bring about Aurea's rage. “The forces upon Logos have diminished by half.”
Aurea's eyes slit. “What?” Her voice was quiet and deadly.
“An attack came which devastated the army,” the messenger explained. “We still hold the isle, but reinforcements will be needed in order to maintain control. If Lucidia were to attack now, Logos would be lost.”
“Send men from Whispering Winds and Rune,” Aurea commanded.
“But, Empress,” the messenger stammered. “Those men were supposed to move to the front to grant reprieve to Angels. Their province has been at the front since the beginning of the war. Their men are---”
“Needed at the front where they will stay,” Aurea finished bitingly.
The messenger felt a sickening turmoil swirl within her stomach. “Yes, Empress.” She bowed while trying to blink away tears.
********
Just over the ledge, a winding sea of silver dazzled in the moonlight. Its steady waves came as the breaths of each soldier.
The newly replenished Lucidian army unknowingly sliced through the remaining hopes of two shivering Pyrosians hidden within the tall grasses. Looking away from the ominous scythe the Lucidian masses embodied, the reconnaissance slowly began to slink away upon their stomachs. Even as they withdrew, they realized that they were still beneath the shadow of the reaper coming to claim them all.
“There is no end to them,” Zahara gasped. She met Echo's eyes once they had reached a safe distance from the Lucidians. Their scouting expedition had been meant to give them an advantage of preparedness, but as they looked into each other's eyes, they knew the truth. This bad news would deeply wound a morale-deprived army.
“We must warn my cousin at once,” Echo whispered.
********
Autumn gazed down into the bowl of meager rations in her hands. She relished the warmth of the bowl against her skin and even gave a contented smile as steam rose up to kiss her face. The warm meal would help to bring a bit of comfort to her men, but she realized that the supplies were running low. Soon, she would have to send her men into the countryside in order to hunt for food. She pushed that thought away, forcing herself to focus instead on this meal she would soon enjoy with her friends.
A slight frown touched her face as she thought to her friends. Where were they? Zahara and Echo were supposed to arrive long ago. She tensed suddenly wondering what might have happened to them.
As she caught sight of her friends approaching from the darkness, her face softened. She smiled as she set down her stew. She rose to greet them, but fell short of her usual warmth when her eyes met theirs.
Autumn tensed, bracing herself for the worst. “What's wrong?” she asked.
Zahara and Echo glanced between themselves, wondering who would be the one to deliver the news.
“Someone, tell me something,” Autumn warned sternly.
Taking in a deep breath, the two women began their recount of enemy territory. They informed her as to the Lucidians' overwhelming numbers and named off what weaponry they had clearly seen. When they were finished, silence weighted the air.
Weakly, the Queen of Angels sat atop a large stone. She was suddenly unable to stand.
“Highness?” Zahara ventured tentatively.
At the mention of her name, Autumn woke from her silence. She returned to her place at the fire. “You did well,” she rasped. “Come and eat.”
“But, Autumn,” Zahara protested.
With a motion of Autumn's chin toward the fire, the women were silently commanded to sit. They begrudgingly took their place around the fire. Silently, they watched as their leader spooned warming stew into bowls for them.
Echo received the bowl with concerned eyes. Autumn seemed to change each day she participated in this war. She only vaguely glimpsed the carefree woman she had loved, the woman she affectionately called her cousin.
Zahara stabbed angrily into her stew. She ate with that same zeal, using stale bread to push down her bitterness toward their situation.
“We must call for Myth,” Autumn said, disturbing the silence.
Echo paused, mid-bite. “Yes, of course,” she said. She rose to her feet only to find herself face to face with the beautiful woman with enchanting green eyes.
Myth smiled slowly into Echo. She tenderly reached out her hand. She caressed her cheek before moving beyond the ebony-haired wom
an to greet the others.
As their family now sat completed, they resumed dinner, but in that moment the unspoken hovered in the air.
“You called, Autumn,” Myth asked as she picked delicately at her bread.
“When are reinforcements coming,” Zahara questioned suddenly.
Myth's eyes rounded sadly. She chewed at a morsel of bread. She felt it grow slightly within her mouth. “They won't,” she whispered knowingly.
Enraged, Zahara leapt to her feet. “But they promised!”
A sharp look from Autumn warned the Guardian to lower her voice. Though they were apart from the men, on a quiet night raised voices could easily be heard throughout the Lucidian stillness.
Apologetically, Zahara lowered both her head and her voice.
Devoting her attention solely to the woman with the gift of sight, Autumn listened intently. “What do you see?” she prodded gently.
Myth gazed heavily into the fire. She used the strength and purity of its light to help her find her way. “Though we may reach out for a helping hand and find none,” she started, “we are not alone. This is the time for us to band together as we are. If we can survive this trial, divinity will intervene.” Her voice grew distant while she slipped deeper into a trance. “We must remember the reason we are fighting.”
“We're here because of the Empress,” Echo thought aloud.
Autumn frowned as she shook her head. “No,” she said thoughtfully. “We are fighting for our lives. This now has nothing to do with Aurea.”
Myth slowly woke from her trance, finding Autumn's eyes.
“How can you say that?” Echo asked in pained confusion. “This has everything to do with Aurea.”
“No,” Autumn voiced firmly. “It doesn't.” She sighed and found her old friend's eyes. “This stopped being about Aurea a long time ago, cousin.
“What happens back home, with Aurea, with Logos, it isn't part of what we are doing here now. We're cut off from all of that and yes, that's because Aurea isn't sending us help, but regardless of why we're cut off, the fact of the matter is, we're all alone out here. The only thing we need to focus on is making sure that we take care of ourselves; that we defend and protect each other because we're all the family that any of us has. We aren't fighting for Aurea or a cause we don't believe in. We're fighting for our lives because if we don't, no one else will. The Empress won't!”
The others sat within the wake of those words.
Autumn lifted her face to the sky. The air was growing colder. She watched as it gave her breath a visible life. When she lowered her eyes to her friends, she took note of Zahara's thoughtful expression and the manner in which Echo and Myth held hands while silently staring into their remaining stew.
She had to do something, she told herself. She couldn't let the entire army be massacred. It couldn't all have been for nothing?
“So we're all alone now,” Echo whispered.
“Without any hope of help coming,” Zahara added quietly.
“No,” Autumn countered. Her eyes were determined even as her voice sought to gently reassure those around her. “We aren't without hope. You heard what Myth said. When we make it past this trial, divinity will intervene. That's what we hang on to. That's where our hope comes from.”
“But this isn't Pyros,” Echo murmured. “This land is---” She shivered at the chill in the air. It ran right through her. She was so tired of the cold and longed for the warmth of her home.
Abruptly, Autumn rose to her feet. She gently patted Echo's shoulder as she walked past her.
Looking after the chocolate-haired Queen, Echo frowned. “Where are you going, Autumn?” she called after her.
“I will return, cousin,” Autumn promised before disappearing beyond the reaches of the fire's light.
The others looked to each other in bewildered silence. They had waited for what felt like a small lifetime before the familiar sounds of Autumn's footfalls came to them like a nightingale's song. As one, their faces turned in the approaching silhouette's direction.
“The leaders are making their way over the hill,” Angels' Queen said. “They should only be a few moments.”
“We're having a meeting?” Zahara asked hoarsely.
Autumn nodded absently. She stoked the campfire, bringing both more light and more warmth to her closest friends. As she did, she envisioned her maps of the area. She clearly saw every noted tree, every hill. So lost in her concentrations was she that she scarcely heard the arrival of the Pyrosian generals.
One by one they stood or knelt around the fire. They were weary men and women with haunted eyes and shoulders slumped beneath the burdens they carried. Each day that they were forced to endure this battle meant that they lost another soldier they had come to know. At this point in the war, their numbers were dwindling in such a way that it was impossible not to know each member of one's own command. They weren't just losing soldiers. As this continued on, forced to rely solely upon one another, they were losing friends.
With the fire basking all their faces in gaunt shadows, they felt the cold sting of a snowflakes falling upon them. They lifted their heads to the sky above. Quietly snow danced above them. Its descent brought an eerie sort of stillness. And yet to one, it brought a consuming sense of calm.
As Autumn peered up into the sky, she remembered the beauty of raining Djidjiga petals. She lowered her head, focusing paling eyes upon those present.
Without another moment's hesitation, she drew her sword. She ran its tip against the earth, drawing a map of the land with its blade.
“Illusions,” she began authoritatively. Her voice snapped the others from their reveries. “With night to aid you, I want you leading teams into this pass.”
Frost lifted his head nobly. “What is our objective?” he asked. He watched over her with a fondness touching his soul. In that moment, he recognized a bit of Angelos in the late-King's daughter.
Autumn slid her hand over the pass' surface as her eyes held those of King Frost. As he nodded, she knew he understood.
“Echo,” Autumn began. “I want you readying traps along this area here.” Her sword circled the territory just beyond the pass. “If any make it past the first attack, then your traps will take care of them.”
Lifting her eyes to meet the general of a few of the smaller provinces, Autumn pointedly called upon their skilled archers. “I will be waiting with my men in the fields. Those who remain will pursue my men as we seem to withdraw,” she said. “When we have brought them into range, rain down on them with your arrows.” She pointed her finger to the woods creating a crescent around a field.
Scouring the eyes of all those present, Autumn infused them with her rising calm. “We are the best our land has to offer, but for too long we have fought as though we were invaders from another land while they have fought as though they have the advantage of being in their element. We must all remember that our greatest strength is that Pyrosians have always adapted to the land. We must adapt to this land. Or we will die on it.”
********
Autumn held her ground as dawn approached. She heard the volatile explosions of a landslide echoing loudly in the distance. Birds cawed and circled above the mountain pass. She knew that the first of many obstacles ahead of the Lucidian army had greeted them.
Raising her hand high in the sky, she motioned her chosen forward. Her keen eyes followed the swooping forms of her armies' remaining transports as they raced toward their targets.
In their massive talons, they held huge vats. The Guardians removed the large parcels from their backs as their birds spirited them towards the battle. The women draped the ghost shrouds over their large birds of prey, until as one the departing teams disappeared from sight.
********
The Lucidian army was dazed. Their soldiers at the front had fallen victim a ravenous earth. They were nestled between boulders which held them possessively.
As their ranks split, their greatest strength was diminished h
orribly. The sheer might of their numbers had been dramatically devastated in a single blow.
One force powered over the debris, keeping true to the path while the other detoured to encircle the Pyrosians whom they suspected waited over the other side of the pass.
The path was clear. The Lucidians advanced with zealous speed along the river. Vengeance burned heatedly inside their eyes. They were nearly in position when massive tubs began materializing from nothingness to crash at their feet.
A Lucidian soldier knelt down. His fingers prodded the substance curiously. He brought it to his face, inhaling the fragrance wafting from it.
With a confused frown, he looked to his commanding officer. “It's meat dripping,” he said.
Massive currents of air followed the ghostly shadows which raced over the ground. Eyes ventured skyward but nothing which might claim these frightening shadows appeared in the sky. Then as if appearing upon a whim, torches raced across the sky.
The soldier, realizing that he and his comrades were covered in oil, let loose a panicked cry of alarm. “Take cover!” he screamed.
As the Lucidian army disbursed to take cover, balls of fire began raining from the sky. The moment their flames touched the oil, the oil whooshed into eager fires.
Lucidians rushed about like morbid candles. They threw themselves into the river, hoping to extinguish their lights.
As chaos consumed the scattering army, loud explosions filled the air. The burning balls thrown into the oil had heated until their contents burst from inside sending a medley of sharp stone and jagged metal shavings in every direction.
********
Autumn's men never saw their opportunity to fight. The Lucidian army had taken flight, regrouping to a preordained refuge. It was on that day, that the Pyrosian army no longer felt as though they were simply keeping the Lucidians at bay. On this day, the Pyrosian army felt as though they had a fighting chance.
********
“Be strong, my brother,” he whispered.
The voice had come from the encompassing darkness. Hooves stamped lightly at the hay-covered floor beneath them. Gently, he shushed the horses around them as the men hid anxiously within the stables.
The Flame of Wrath Page 34