by Charles Dean
Quietly whispered doubts had wormed their way through the encamped army the night before when scouts returned with their reconnaissance of the enemy’s position just before dusk and were sequestered in with the commanding officers until well after midnight. Typically, those meetings lasted only a short amount of time as they quickly gave their reports and were dismissed. The unusual length of time it took to deliver the information had raised more than a few eyebrows in curiosity and set tongues to wagging. The murmurs were quickly silenced by commanding officers, and, despite a few remaining naysayers, morale had remained at an all-time high. The Great Lord’s army had never been defeated in battle, and there was no reason to believe that today would be any different.
Looking down at the battle below her, however, Eliza had more than enough reason to believe that those few voices may have raised legitimate concerns. The Holy Alliance had fortified its position at the southern end of a mountain range and occupied the mouth of a small canyon that served as the entrance to the only pass that allowed easy access into the chain of mountains. The sheer cliffs to the east and west prevented them from being attacked from any direction other than a direct, frontal assault, and control of the pass ensured that they never had to worry about a force flanking them.
Ground troops were deployed in long, fan-shaped formations around the mouth of the canyon, and they were forcing the Demon army to fight into a fortified position with an elongated front line. Bulwarks and palisades had been erected, providing the defenders an additional advantage, and, so far, they were proving their worth as the advancing army struggled to overtake them. If the front lines crumbled, and the defenses were lost, Eliza guessed that they would slowly retreat backward, swap out with reserves, and move back through the pass. If the Demon army wanted to press the attack, they would then be forced to fight along a narrowed front and under fire from above.
Clusters of magicians and archers were stationed just inside the canyon, along the sloping terrain that led up to the canyon’s vertical walls, where they could safely lob volleys of arrows and spells at the Demon army as it approached. These small groups were the key to The Holy Alliance’s defense against the advance of the Great Lord’s forces. They were the primary defense against attacks from the Blue-Drake squadrons, the first to launch attacks into advancing troops at the onset of battle, and would provide cover for ground troops if they had to retreat.
Constant barrages from the air in previous battles had taught the enemy the importance of protecting their soft, high-damage backline. As long as their casters and bowmen were in position and protected, they were fairly successful at both preventing the Drakes from engaging from above and controlling the flow of battle. As it was, they were perfectly positioned. The walls of the canyon forced the Drake squadrons to attack from either directly above or into the mouth of the canyon and expose themselves to constant ranged attacks from below.
Eliza applied pressure with her legs, and thankfully, her mount responded with only a small amount of resistance as it turned back towards her own lines. It was clearly uncomfortable with even being this close to the source of the enemy attacks, and she knew that if she gave any headway, it would probably resume its dive headfirst towards the closest group of spell casters. Its natural instincts told it to attack anything it perceived as a threat, and a well-placed salvo of explosions from a group below had been more than enough to catch its attention and cause it to break away from the rest of her squadron in an attempt to attack them. Older, battle-tested mounts didn’t have that problem. After a few engagements and some careful training, they were usually more than complacent in following their rider’s commands on the battlefield. They become as used to the violence and death as we are, she thought wryly.
She was no tactician, but she had been in more than her fair share of fights. She was often in the vanguard on the frontlines, right in the thick of the fighting, and she had as much combat experience as any other soldier in the army. Perhaps it was because she sat so high above the battle, so far removed from the chaos and action, but the outcome of this battle seemed obvious if something didn’t change: They were going to lose. Even from her great distance above the ground, she could tell that the fight along the frontline had degraded from an organized effort into a brawl as soldiers fought to overtake the defenders’ position. Even if they somehow managed to push the defending line back and forced them to abandon their fortifications, it was going to be far too costly. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what the death tally was going to look like just from attempting to storm those palisades.
Perhaps it’s a good thing that the Great Lord insisted on using the new ones and their strange new abilities, after all, she thought wryly. Up until this moment, she had been as opposed as anyone else to opening up their ranks to the crops of newcomers that had mysteriously shown up. These strangers to her world seemed to just show up randomly one day and never leave. They hailed from any and every race around the world that she had ever heard of, as well as a few she hadn’t, and they all seemed to possess some strange predisposition towards violence and destruction. They held no regard for any of the rules and customs that governed towns or societies, and chaos seemed to follow them wherever they went. They acted as they pleased, took what they wanted as if they were entitled to it and never gave a second thought to anyone other than themselves or their own goals.
Most mysteriously, the finality of death didn’t seem to apply to them. She saw men that she had slain on the battlefield reappear time and time again in different battles. They carried their weapons and waged war as if they were still among the living. But that was impossible. She had experienced more than enough death in her life to know its look, its touch and its feel. She knew what it felt like to kill someone, to know they were dead. But the newcomers just kept coming back.
The Great Lord had been the first to suggest harnessing that power for the Demon cause. Naturally, not a single Demon was keen on the idea. The Great Lord had rescued them from destruction. He had saved them from a terrible fate at the hands of these senseless and murderous newcomers and lifted them up from the ashes of a ruined life. They had chosen to follow him and pledged both their lives and loyalty to him. Surely, his great strength and wisdom, his prowess on the battlefield, and his determination were more than enough when combined with their own strength to defeat any foe that came before them. Demons detested the idea of having to work together with the filthy, reckless newcomers. But the Great Lord willed it, and even though they didn’t understand his reasoning, they had acquiesced to his will.
Looking down at the carnage unfolding below her now, Eliza finally began to understand. As long as the newcomers who had pledged their loyalty to the Great Lord continued to haunt the battlefield after their death, they could be of use to the cause. They could afford to carelessly throw away their lives attempting to overtake a well-defended position. The impact of the war and the death tally of her own people was much lower as long as these children were willing to throw away their lives, and that was more important than anything else. They had already lost everything once before the Great Lord appeared, and they had come close to losing it a second time. Too many of our own have already passed away at the hands of these newcomers and because of their bloodlust, their barbarism. If they are willing to die for the Great Lord’s cause, let them. They are good for nothing but war and violence anyway.
A ball of flame burst harmlessly below her, turning into a fiery explosion before fading out, but it was enough to get her Blue-Drake’s attention and break her out of her thoughts. Stop it, Eliza. You’re wasting time. The shock of the unexpected attack set her Blue-Drake further on edge, and the beast shook its head back and forth as it chomped at the bit and tried to get control away from her again. She patted its neck reassuringly in an attempt to calm it, but she knew that the nervous animal wasn’t going to quiet down anytime soon.
Eliza scanned the air, trying to find the rest of her squadron. They had been assigned to the righ
t side of the line before her mount had taken her astray, and their orders had been to support that position with as much aerial coverage as possible. Unfortunately, the entire battle had been a test of patience and perseverance as ranged fire from the enemy’s backlines prevented them from getting anywhere close enough to do damage to the Holy Alliance’s front lines. Any time they attempted to move in close enough for an attack, the mages would train their spells on them from their position safely within the mouth of the canyon, and the squadron would be forced to turn away before they could do any damage.
At last, she spotted what looked like the right group of Drakes hanging back on the edge of the battle. They were grouping together at the moment, probably being issued a new set of commands. It was rather unusual for them to be stationary during a fight unless new orders were coming down from above. Good, she thought as she considered the situation. I don’t have to waste time chasing them down or trying to catch up to them. I can just fall in and resume the fight. Then a new idea occurred to her. Maybe someone has finally figured out a way for us to be anything other than a distraction.
Eliza pointed her mount in the right direction and leaned forward, pushing the Blue-Drake into a glide toward the spot where the small group was gathered. She felt a small bundle of nerves tense up in her midsection as the mount made the simple maneuver. Soaring through the skies was an immeasurable pleasure she never could have imaged before being accepted as one of the Drake Riders, and she was secretly thrilled at the speed, the freedom of being in the air, with every move she made. The horizon tilted up until it disappeared out of sight, and all that she could see was the battle below her grow larger as every second passed.
One of the many blessings the Demons had received from the Great Lord after they accepted his pact was a heightened sense of vision. What would have seemed blurry and distant before was now clear as day, and even as she plummeted towards the earth, the long, stretched-out lines of soldiers quickly turned from a glimmering mess of steel and dark leather armor into individual bodies writhing against one another, locked in combat. Even from her height, she could see their weapons rise and fall as they struck out at one another. She could see soldiers as they fell from a combination of blows from a sword or a spear to the gut. She could see the hood of a soldier fall back and leave his head uncovered as he rushed forward from the Holy Alliance’s secondary line to fill a gap that had formed in the forward formation.
Scanning the battle, she could clearly see the lines of soldiers. Wait . . . a hood? She jerked her gaze back to the soldier just in time to see him stumble forward over a dead body and automatically catch himself on a staff. He paused, heavily leaning on the long wooden weapon for support, and then began his route again. And a staff. This isn’t right. Eliza couldn’t stop the uneasy feeling from building inside of her this time. If the enemy is moving mages to the front line, it means that they are confident enough in their ability to protect them. Having mages this far forward means that they will have almost total control over the entire battlefield. The ground soldiers can’t even break the defensive fortifications, much less reach casters back there. The Blue-Drake squadrons will have to withdraw from the battle entirely or risk being blasted out of the air before they ever came close to their target.
I have to warn them. They can’t be allowed to move in anywhere close to . . . She buried her heels into the scaly sides of her Blue-Drake and jerked up hard on the reins in an effort to stop the beast from descending any further. She had planned on intercepting the group, not moving to where they were now, and she had to change course before she was too close to the battle. Her Drake, however, wasn’t too keen on the idea. It had already seen the source of his frustration below, and the serpent wasn’t going to let it go again without a fight. The Drake let out an ear-shattering roar and fought against her for control. It banked hard to the right, turning them parallel to the lines of combat below them, but didn’t completely stop their descent. She pulled back hard to the left on the reins again in an effort to turn the beast in the right direction, and the blasted creature responded again by letting out another mighty roar and rolling over. She felt her world shift around her as she was carried upside-down and the sky and earth swapped places in her vision.
Eliza felt the bundle of nerves that had been building in her stomach finally explode and give way into full-blown panic. She automatically squeezed her legs around the beast’s shoulders using all the strength she could muster and locked her fingers around the leathery reins. I can’t control it!
As if her mount could read her mind, the Blue-Drake rolled over once again, and with two mighty flaps of its wings, finally stopped their descent. She could feel her stomach flip-flop a second time as the world once again righted itself. Realizing that she was back upright, a thread of hope raced through her. I can save this! She quickly gasped in a deep breath, hoping to calm her racing heart, and reached back to brush the hair that had fallen forward to cover her face. No matter how many different ways she tried, she just wasn’t able to keep it tied back and out of the way. Some of the other women had decided to cut theirs short, but she just couldn’t bear to part with hers.
She had no sooner moved the stray locks out of her face than a fireball exploded in a fiery mass just to her left. She could feel the wave of heat wash over her and the blast left her seeing spots in the corners of her vision. Too close! I have to-- The Drake went crazy underneath her and began thrashing back and forth from side to side in the air. Eliza was left grasping hold of the reins with a single hand as the winged serpent bucked wildly. She was only vaguely aware of the second fireball as it streamed past, narrowly missing the Blue-Drake’s wings as it whooshed by and exploded just above her.
That did it. The Blue-Drake abandoned all pretext of remaining in the air or letting her regain control and dove towards the field below.
Oh shi-- Small parts of her adrenaline-filled brain began registering a host of different problems all at the same time. She had no hope of regaining control over her Blue-Drake. They were in a death spiral headed straight down towards the ground. The single mage had turned into a cluster of mages. The cluster of mages was surrounded by archers. They were all standing with bows drawn and aimed directly at her. Despite the fact that she had no idea what to do about any of these complications, she was somehow able to miraculously take them all in at the same time.
She watched fireballs streaked up towards her, hissing their promise of a scorching death along the way. She could vaguely make out the sounds of their sizzle and pop over the rush of wind filling her ears as they streaked past her and exploded in the air above. A few sporadic chunks of snow and ice joined them, but they were quickly halted after the first round and replaced by a flurry of arrows as she drew into bow range. She whizzed past them all at breakneck speed, clinging tightly to the back of her Drake for all she was worth.
Am I really going out like this? Shock and desperation flooded her thoughts as the inevitability of her situation hit her.
A large, fast-swirling vortex of blue appeared directly in front of her. It wasn’t overly large, but there was no way she was going to be able to avoid it. She had a split-second to recognize the spell for what it was and make her decision. She let go of the Drake and pushed away from it with every bit of strength she could muster. A layer of frost immediately formed against her skin and clung to her armor as she passed into the churning whirlwind. She felt her neck snap to the side, and patches of colored light swam through her vision before the spell’s icy fingers grabbed ahold of her and jerked her into a different direction. Her body protested the sudden shift in movement and momentum, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her body was thrown around and spun about like a rag doll as the frozen current claimed her for its victim. Chunks of ice slammed into her body, pummeling against her armor, and she could feel their sharp edges rip into the exposed skin on her hands and face as she was sucked around and around.
Then it was over. The vortex disappear
ed as magically as it had been summoned, and she was thrown free. She was vaguely aware of her body, beaten and bruised, as it seemed to hang suspended in the air for a brief moment before returning to its downward plunge. She crashed down into a group of fighters and everything went black.
-----
“Mmm . . .” Eliza yawned and stretched, resisting the urge to open her eyes just yet. She could feel the warmth from sunlight streaming through the canopy of trees overhead, and she could hear the sounds of birds chirping in the forest. There was nothing better than taking an afternoon nap, and no place better than the small grove a short walk from town. It was the perfect place with a small babbling stream nearby that wound its slow path down the side of the mountain and lots of soft grass and moss for laying out on. She had spent many of her afternoons here lazing away the day when she was younger, and it was refreshing to be back again. Now that she was older, she had more responsibilities in town that kept her busy, and with the way that things were going with the war, there was no telling when she might have the chance to be back again.
She let out a soft sigh and finally gave in and opened her eyes. It didn’t take but a moment for her vision to adjust to the soft light that filtered down from above as she sat up and began brushing herself off. She had a bad habit of rolling over as she slept, and experience had taught her well that small bits of trash and leaves would cling to the clothing she wore at even the smallest opportunity. She smiled as she recalled the lectures her mother had given her when she would return home without dusting herself off. ‘A young lady shouldn’t be spending her days out rolling in the leaves,’ she would say. ‘What will people think of you? It’s just not proper!’