by Alexis Rojas
Erik continued by letting go of his sword and punching Raol’s helmet, dazing him. He then grabbed the balorian’s left shoulder and heaved his knee to the stomach. He repeated three times until Raol gave in to the pain and loosened his grip on his hammer. Erik yanked it of his grasp and held it with both hands. He gave a swing that Raol tried to block, but his short axe was no match for the heavy hammer. The axe blasted off into the air.
His enemy was now defenseless, but it did not stop Erik. He thrust the hammer to his stomach, making him bend. Next he hammered his back, forcing him to grasp for the ground. And lastly, he swirled the hammer up, smashing the shoulder. Raol ended on his knees, unable to fight anymore. He panted and grunted as his body lost its strength.
“You may take my life now,” he told Erik, “but soon Balora will claim yours. You’re dead. You’re all dead!”
“There will be a day when death will creep on me and take my life… but, not today!” Erik raised the mighty hammer and bashed it down on the Raol’s helmet, encrusting it down to his shoulders. The balorian fell to the side as blood seeped out of the helmet’s orifice.
Erik let go of the hammer and observed all the damage and suffering he had made Raol go through. He was his enemy. He knew he had to kill him. And yet, was this all he was destined for? Maybe it was the only thing he was able to do; to be a monster of war. He closed his eyes, letting his truth sink in. But, the battle wasn’t over. Two soldiers brought him his sword and shield.
“You were running from this cavalry?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. They were part of the reinforcements that their battalion received. They completely overwhelmed us. We could only flee.”
Erik gazed to where the cavalry had come from. In about two hundred meters the plateau curved down into a slope. He looked at his brethren and nodded. He marched and the soldiers followed. After the skirmish with the cavalry, only ten of them were left.
Stepping over the edge of the plateau, they took sight of the dark blue flowers that covered the incline; the flowers that gave the region its name of Somber Petalia. Moreover, there was also the five hundred balorian men marching closer to the foot of the slope. Before the battalion reached the bottom, they saw Erik and his men at the top. A chorus of laughter ensued.
A full battalion against a few soldiers? The odds were totally against them. But, Erik didn’t flinch at the sight of the enemy. He looked back over his shoulder and smiled. He then pointed his sword at the balorians and ran down the hill with a roaring battle cry. His men followed, and the balorians laughed even more.
Suddenly, the battalion noticed that the miaflorian battle cry increased like if there were hundreds of them. It became louder and more resonant. A few men couldn’t make that much noise. And then, from atop the slope, Raymond appeared with the Eternal Squadron and every miaflorian soldier from the camp.
“Destroy them!” he yelled as all of them ran down like a deadly flood. The balorians were caught by surprise and rashly prepared for the oncoming assault.
#
The battle lasted for three days, full of blood, bravery, and glory. It resulted in Miaflore regaining Somber Petalia, claiming the Dandy Overpass and pushing the balorians back behind their boarder. The miaflorians made a new camp on the acquired territory and made a giant fire. While they celebrated their victory under a starry night sky, Raymond couldn’t find his friend enjoying it. He went looking for him at his tent, and there he was, sitting quietly on a stool. He stared at his worn out shield in his hands.
“Erik, aren’t you going to join the celebration?” asked Raymond.
“We won a battle, Ray, not the war,” Erik responded somewhat disappointed, “There is nothing to celebrate.”
Raymond perceived the unusual tone from his friend, “Is something wrong?”
“Ray, what am I?” Erik blurted out.
“What do you mean ‘What am I’? You’re Erik, the great warrior of Miaflore. I’ve even heard the men naming you Erik ‘The Blood Marauder’.”
“The what?!”
“The Blood Marauder.”
Erik stood up annoyed by it, “That’s what I mean. Is that really what I am? A killer, a fiend that goes and ravages on its victims, leaving pain and death behind. Am I to be this ‘Blood Marauder’? Is it my destiny? ...The alias sounds good and all, but nevertheless!”
Raymond approached him and put his hand on his shoulder, “Erik, you are neither a monster nor a senseless killer. You are a brave man and a valuable comrade; more than that, a true friend. But, you are good at what you do. We were born at war, we were born for war. It is our fate.”
Pained by his sentiment, Erik sat in the stool again in frustration.
“Come on, don’t be so glum,” Raymond continued, “I also believe that a man can change his destiny at the right time, under the right circumstances.” Hearing that, Erik finally gave a small smile and nodded.
“See, that’s the Erik I know! Come on, let’s join the others.
“No, I have to go back,” Erik stood and picked up his sword and shield.
“Back? To where?”
“I have to ask someone for forgiveness.”
“But we need you here, Erik!”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine without me. ‘You were born for war’, remember?” Erik winked at him.
“You damn weasel, don’t use my own reasoning against me!”
Erik ran out the tent and mounted a horse. He departed the camp, heading straight for the Forest of Agony…
*
The breeze of an incoming storm brushed my hair. I put my hand over the handle of my sword. Even though war has shaped me, it has granted me the abilities I need to save Auria. I will not be angry at myself anymore, for it is who I am.
13- So Close
Yang’s present made me wonder. Not if the story of the Feng Huang was true, but if the egg would make a decent meal or not. I was getting pretty hungry. But then again, eating an egg that had been handed down for generations wouldn’t be too healthy.
The weather was getting humid and dark clouds floated in the sky. Before rainfall, I checked my map again. Right ahead was a river, just like Yang had told me. That’s where the drawbridge had to be. After the river, the road would go south around the Pegnion Mountains, where it reached the fortified city of Ambros. And after Ambros, I would finally reach my destination: the capital of Balora, Vidana. I put the map away and hurried. I wasted a lot of time yesterday at the Mead Pit, so I needed to travel as fast as I could.
The rain came quickly, as I expected. It wasn’t a heavy downpour, but enough to make the road all muddy. The cold drops of water ran down my cheeks and neck. I tried to cover my head, but the wind forced the water to my face. Over the cover of my forearm, I saw a couple of towers on the distance, standing high by the river bank. They were part of the drawbridge mechanism. The way the drawbridge worked was like this: ropes went from the tip of the wooden platform through a system of pulleys on the top of the towers. Then, the ropes would coil around a windlass mechanism on the ground. On this case, however, I couldn’t see the windlass. The ropes would go from the top of the tower straight to a large hole in the ground. It was a strange design, but the windlass should be inside it. Looking at the lengthiness of the bridge, I wondered how much manpower was needed to operate it. There must’ve be at least fifty men in the hole turning the windlass. But, what I saw instead was the latest in balorian technology: Troll Power!
Within the hole was a massive, ashen troll handling a large windlass. Ashen trolls were giant creatures with limbs out of proportion. This one, other than having a giant body, had an even bigger head and hands. The hands were so big I could stand on its palm and hug a finger. The term ashen came from its skin color, except for its chest that was full of black boils. It was ten times my height, wearing a leather kilt around its waist. It must have taken the balorians a lot of time to train the giant brute, and even more to capture it. Its neck and feet had been chained to the ground. Only i
ts arms were free to operate the windlass.
The mechanism consisted of a large gear connected to a horizontal iron pole impaled on the wall. When the troll rotated the gear, so did the pole, wrapping the ropes around it and controlling the bridge. To maintain control of the troll, a team of five beast masters were behind it on a raised platform. They carried lances and whips to punish the monster into obedience.
A pair of them climbed out the hole using a ladder. They walked close to where I was and one pointed down the hole.
“You see the chains on the left foot? They are too rusted. And the soil is getting too malleable with all this rain. One hard pull could rip the chains out the earth. If this type of weather continues for another week, there could be trouble.”
The other beast master nodded, but he noticed I was looking and overhearing their problem. “What you looking at, bugger?” he yelled, “Get out of here!”
I turned away and went for the bridge. At the moment, a six-horse carriage towing a tarp covered cargo was crossing the bridge to the other side. A handful of balorian soldiers marched behind it. When it reached the opposite riverbank, the beast masters whipped the troll, ordering it to pull the bridge up.
“Come on, you foul beast!” yelled the beast masters. “Raise the bridge!”
I heard the troll moan both in agony and effort as the bridge slowly rose.
I proceeded to the two sentries standing guard between the towers, trying to figure out how I was going to sly myself past them. On the other side, the carriage was going up a brief slope, when a sudden gust of wind blew the cargo’s tarp up. My heart stopped when I saw what was revealed beneath; an iron cage with a kneeling woman inside, a woman with wings. It was her, Auria! She was so pale; her head skewed with sadness. A soldier quickly ran up the slope and tied the tarp down. She didn’t see me!
“Halt,” one of the sentries commanded as he saw me nearing the drawbridge. I couldn’t care less what he said. I knocked him to the side and ran.
“Raise the bridge! Quickly!” the other yelled towards the hole. From behind I heard the troll growl louder than before as the bridge rose fast. I sprinted as the bridge turned diagonally. I reached the rising edge and jumped with all my might. I soared over the river and landed poorly at the opposite bank. There was a third sentry waiting for me. He kicked me on the ribs before I could get up. He then grabbed my arm to drag me, but I took my dagger and stabbed him. He held his stomach as he knelt in pain. I looked for the carriage, but it had already reached the top of the slope.
The storm intensified with its downpour slapping my body, making it more difficult to run up the squelching mud. When I overcame the incline, I saw the caravan continue its way between a series of tents. They were scattered all over the foot of the nearest mountain. Each tent had the insignia of the balorian army on its side: a crow holding a halberd with its talons. It was an army encampment, and Auria was right in the middle of it.
This complicated things. If things went wrong, the whole camp would be upon me. From one of the front tents came out a soldier with a bucket in hand. He was going to gather rain water. A sudden bolt of lightning flashed close and brightened the grounds, revealing my presence. When he saw me holding a bloody knife, he opened the tent and called more men out. Three more appeared, armed with swords. I put away the dagger and took out my own sword, along with the shield. I needed to take them out as fast as I could, without alerting the rest of the camp. I had finally reached Auria, and I was not going to lose her again. I hit the first one on the arm, breaking the bone. The second tried to hack my side, but I blocked, I slashed his torso and pushed him away with the shield. The third one attempted to pierce my chest while my shield was out. I tried to dodge, but he cut the outside of my right shoulder. I stepped back as I felt the burn of his blade. I glanced for the carriage, but I lost it among the tents. When I looked back to the soldiers, the fourth one was not there anymore. He must have gone to alarm others. Now every balorian in the camp would rise against me.
This was not good; I lost my sight on Auria, a horde of soldiers would soon come at me, and the bridge was up. I attacked the third soldier once more, but he parried to the side and kicked me to the mud. As I tried to get on my feet, I suddenly felt powerless. The fear of not reaching Auria filled me with fright. That horror hindered my abilities and drained my hope. I glanced at the tents again, but the intensifying storm made view almost impossible. The soldier swung his sword and all I could do was block, dodge and step back, until he finally pushed me down the slope. I rolled down to the bank of the river. The mud stained all my clothes; my gambeson, my pants, my bag, everything. I looked up and the soldier was joined by a squadron, including a sergeant. He pointed his finger at me and I heard him yell through the rain, “Bring him to me. He seems to be the one Vallias’ men just warned us about.”
Two soldiers came down the slope to fetch my wretched body. I had lost her again. All my efforts had been for nothing. My fear and weakness began to flee out my mind to make way for another emotion, one that saddens the heart and berserks the spirit. I felt deception. I felt as if fate had played me, showing me my prize and snatching it away at the last second. And just like a boy throws a fit when he’s denied what he wants, I wanted to unleash hell on earth. When the first soldier reached me, I rose up and slashed his face in half. The second came charging, but he slipped on the mud and lost balance. He opened his arms and I raised the rim of my shield to his throat. They both fell before me. I glared up to the sergeant and let out an agonizing scream. The noise of the heavy rain wasn’t enough to mute my roar.
Just before the sergeant sent his men my way, a crashing sound came from behind. The drawbridge had dropped, slamming hard into the bank. Then, the left tower crumbled and fell before our eyes. Only a third of it remained standing with rock slabs scattered on the ground; along with a big iron pole. Right after, the other tower blasted in half when the giant gear of the windlass darted through its blocks. Seeing the mechanism sink in the river, it was clear what was happening: the troll broke free. What the beast master predicted was not happening in another week; it was happening now. The rusty chains must’ve broken, or the troll pulled them out of the softened soil. Whatever the cause, it was now out of the hole.
The massive creature stood with the chains hanging from its neck. It opened its humongous hands, stretching its crooked fingers. Seeing us on the other side, it let out a vicious growl and made its walk upon the bridge. Its first step made the wood bend; the second made it splinter, and the third made it crack. The heavy brute continued as it gravely damaged the bridge. But, as weighty as the troll was, the bridge did not give. As the monster neared our bank, the balorians cowered. I, on the other hand, did not. I slung my shield on my back and held both my sword and dagger. I waited for the beast, right on the bank.
“He’s going to fight the troll?” I heard the balorians yelling behind me. “He’s a fool, he’ll die.”
“Let him die,” said the sergeant, “It’ll be one less problem to worry about. We’ll deal with the troll afterwards.”
The troll spread out his arms and roared as I waited before him.
“Come on, ugly! Give me your best shot!”
When the troll got close enough, it lifted its grimy fist and tried to smash me flat. Mud splattered everywhere as the fist landed. I dodged to the right and stabbed my dagger at the meaty bottom of its palm. As it raised its hand back, I held onto the dagger and let myself be carried up. The lift let me swing onto its shoulder. I was about to cut into its neck with my sword, when it seized me with its other hand. The fiend tried to squeeze the life out of me, and I screamed every time it did. It must’ve thought I was some kind of squeaking frog, for it smirked with pleasure every time it constricted me. In one of its obnoxious laughs, I managed to free my left arm out and stab its thumb with the dagger. The troll opened its palm in a jerking motion. The movement threw me up and I lost grip of the dagger. I kicked and twirled in the air until I landed on a lumpy s
urface. I soon realized I landed on the top of the troll’s head. It was now or never. I lifted my sword and thrust it right through the skull. It grunted, opening its eyes wildly. I thought that would end it, but the troll didn’t fall. Instead, it swiped its arm over and knocked me back. The sword stayed encrusted on its head.
I landed hard behind the monster, almost dislocating my left shoulder. I was now near the other side of the river, where the towers once stood. The troll turned around to pursue me, but I was still recovering from the fall. It walked close to me, and I felt the bridge suffering with each of its steps.
The monster reached me and looked down with a grin. It raised its enormous foot to stomp me flat. I could only watch as its foot rose above me. Then, light blinded us all. A bolt of lightning burst through the clouds and struck my sword. All that mighty power burned from my steel blade to the core of the troll’s body. The shock made it shake uncontrollably. The bolt lasted only for a second, but it was enough to smoke its flesh.
The troll stood still, the rain dripping from its loose arms. I got up and looked at it. Was it dead or just recovering? Then, just like the slow motion a tree makes before it falls, the troll began to tilt at my direction. Dead or alive, it still wanted to squash me flat! I dashed to the bank, not daring to look back. I passed between the remains of the towers and heard a loud “blam”. The troll’s face hit the riverbank, and its body smashed the bridge, at last breaking it to pieces. I hunched over, incredulous of what had just happened. I had never seen anything get toasted out in a rainy day. But, my thoughts were brought to a halt when the troll’s body began to sink into the deep river. My sword was still stuck on its head! I grasped the sword, but it was scorching hot. The rain on it boiled. I saw one of the bridge sentries dead under one of the tower blocks. I ripped a piece of cloth from him and wrapped it around the sword’s handle. I had to be quick, for the troll was sinking fast. As the body sank, the head was being pulled away from the bank. I grasped the sword again and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge. The lightning had fused it to the troll’s head! I pulled again, but nothing. My feet were slowly being dragged by the monster’s sinking. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I felt an arrow fly by me. On the other side of the river, balorian archers were shooting at me. I needed to go, but I couldn’t without my blade. The troll’s head was now sweeping through the remaining planks of the bridge.