The Chronicle

by David F. Farris

  * * *

  Bryson sat huddled in a thick wool blanket alongside his sister, Olivia, in the living room of some officer’s building. He cherished the warmth of the fireplace. Toshik and Vuilni shared a blanket of their own a couple paces away. While the soldiers in the snowstorm thrived in such an environment, the Jestivan and Vuilni did not.

  Bryson glanced out the window. Sunlight had shown itself again, meaning second-day was upon them.

  “What time is it?” Bryson asked.

  “I don’t have my watch on me,” Valp said, standing in the kitchen, “but likely somewhere around seven o’clock.”

  A man opened the front door and stepped inside, snow trailing in the wake of his footsteps. The winds howled, and the Jestivan squeezed themselves tighter. The man took notice of this and quickly shut the door. “My bad.”

  Valp smirked, then said, “This is Colonel Leo. He’s the only officer who’d allow you access into his home. If it weren’t for him, you’d be frozen solid in that blizzard right about now.”

  “Thank you,” Bryson and Vuilni muttered.

  Leo removed his hood and nodded courteously. “Not a problem. Anybody who’s a friend of Titus is a friend of mine.”

  “Old buddies?” Bryson asked.

  “You can say that,” Leo said, walking across the living room and leaning against the kitchen island. “We used to spend a lot of time on the wall.” He glanced at Valp. “No news from Lady Ropinia, General?”

  “Do you think I’d be standing here if she had given me any, Corporal?”

  He smirked. “No, sir.”

  “Why not bunker us in your home, Valp?” Bryson asked.

  “Because I live in the palace,” the general said. “And while I may have certain privileges since I’m engaged to Lady Ropinia, that doesn’t mean I can commit to something that crazy.”

  “I see,” Bryson said.

  Leo frowned, clearly offended. “Is my manor not to your liking, Prince Bryson?”

  Bryson eyed him suspiciously. This was nowhere near a manor. “Are you mocking me?”

  “I would never mock my prince,” Leo said, offering a whimsical bow.

  The banter was cut short, as three knocks rapped through the door. “Come in!” Leo yelled.

  The door opened to reveal a slender man with long, sleek black hair. “Vistas!” Bryson and Vuilni shouted together.

  The Dev servant returned their greeting with a smile. As he stepped farther inside, a woman with violet hair followed. She donned a fur coat and silver scarf. Bryson didn’t have to look twice to guess at who she was. She paused in the doorway, making eye contact with Bryson and Olivia.

  “Lady Ropinia, this is Bryson Still,” Valp said. “I believe you’ve met Olivia before. Bryson, this is your Aunt Ropinia.”

  Vistas shut the door. Ropinia’s expression was one of subtle shock. She had to have known Bryson was in the capital, but perhaps the hard proof wasn’t something she could have prepared for.

  “What’s the verdict?” Toshik asked, breaking the silence.

  Ropinia blinked a few times and glanced at the Adrenian swordsman. She then turned toward General Valp and Colonel Leo. “Yes, my apologies, gentlemen. Nyemas Jugtah has concluded the procedure.” She paused, her eyes watering—something a Stillian woman wasn’t supposed to show to the public.

  Valp became worried. “What happened, Ropinia?”

  “Prepare to stem the tide that approaches our walls. The Still Kingdom’s loyalties have shifted; my father moves again.”

  36

  The Blizzard of Blood

  As an army of powder blue jogged through the streets, citizens of Kindoliya retreated into nearby buildings under the orders of the Stillian royal family. Bryson ran behind the man he had met just a few minutes ago, Colonel Leo. He had been instructed to do so by General Valp. Apparently, he needed to be taken to a specific location that’d best serve his abilities. It had been a vague explanation given during a frantic moment, as Valp had escorted Olivia, Toshik, and Vuilni down a separate street, disappearing in the blizzard.

  Keeping pace with Leo wasn’t a problem for Bryson, but maneuvering through the snow was. It reminded him of the first round of the tournament between the Jestivan and two Diatia from a couple years ago, during the Winter Festival. Yama and Toshik had struggled with their footing in the snow, and now Bryson fully understood why it had hindered them—except this was worse. He had to fight torquing winds at the same time.

  They ran for miles, wending through countless streets, alongside of military units and an occasional tram ram. Leo stopped before every corner to make sure Bryson was still nearby. Despite the raucous commands from officers and thunderous trampling of boots through the snow, it still felt like the calm before the storm. There was an entire metropolis that required defending, hundreds of thousands of innocent lives in grave danger ... New allies to fight alongside.

  Bryson didn’t realize where they were until they stood directly next to a wall made of ice that stretched into the sky. His hood whipped against his face as he stared upward, the tails of his cloak dancing sideways as the wind tried to pry it from his body. He didn’t wear much, for the adrenaline coursing through him allowed him to ignore the frigid temperatures.

  “Where’s the gate?!” Bryson bellowed over the winds.

  “Who said anything about a gate?!” Leo shouted back.

  Bryson stared at the wall, then asked, “How are we getting to the other side?”

  “That’s not where you’re headed!” Leo said, pointing up.

  Before Bryson could get a word out, the ground lifted him into the sky. He dropped to all fours, unprepared for such an event. Leo gazed at him and shook his head, chuckling. It wasn’t the ground, but rather a pillar of ice that continued to rise against Kindoliya’s wall. Just as Bryson had gotten used to it, it stopped before it even neared the top. An open arched doorway was set in the wall. Leo stepped through, and Bryson followed.

  The blizzard’s howls were extinguished upon entry. The two men walked through a narrow passageway and up a set of stairs that didn’t seem to end. It was a gradual ascent within Kindoliya’s wall.

  “In this battle, we will have a historic upper hand,” Leo explained during the journey. “Nature’s elements will greatly benefit us. The timing is more than ideal. Not only that, but the Still Kingdom has prepared for an event like this since the beginning of Known History. We secluded ourselves at the center of a frozen sea for a reason. We’ve always been defensive. Not only will the Devish and Powish brigades have to fight our army, but they’ll have to survive the blizzard and deal with the wall. The wall is covered in thousands of windows, where long-ranged specialists weave attacks at those on the Diamond Sea.”

  Bryson cocked an eyebrow at the colonel from behind. “Then why am I here? I’m not a long-ranged specialist. My speed is my greatest asset.”

  “We’ve heard about how you entered our kingdom, Bryson,” Leo said. “Nobody breaks through the Diamond Sea’s ice, yet you did it so effortlessly. I don’t know why you ignore your impressive clout and weaving skills, but it’s foolish.”

  “Impressive” and “weaving skills” in the same sentence when referencing Bryson seemed odd. Yes, he had learned a lot from Lilu and had studied almost every night after she departed to Brilliance a year and a half ago, but he still only thought of his speed when confronted with battle.

  They passed Still soldiers who were stationed at windows. Bryson took a peek out a few of them but could only see the swirling snow and hail. Eventually they reached what looked to be the passage’s end. Leo pushed against the wall, revealing a doorway. He stepped to the side and extended an arm toward what lay beyond.

  “This will be your office during the battle,” Leo said. As Bryson stepped inside, Leo bowed. “Lay waste to our enemies, Prince.”

  The door slammed shut before Bryson could react. He stood in shock, letting this moment wash over him before turning toward the room. A grand window sat i
n the wall, as tall and wide as the viewing window in the luxury suite from the Generals’ Battle years ago. Besides that, the room was empty—no furniture, decorations, or even an errant icicle. The room had been carved into a perfect cube.

  A space in the wall opposite of Bryson opened—another secret door. In walked Vistas, his eyes flooding burgundy. “Bryson, whether from my vantage point or someone else’s, the whole world will watch this battle unfold. Devish are stationed throughout the battlefield.” He paused. “King Vitio and Princess Shelly will watch from my eyes. I will only record in order to not exhaust my Dev Energy, which means they cannot communicate directly with you. I, however, will act as a middleman. She said she’s proud of what you’ve accomplished so far, but it doesn’t amount to much if you lose.”

  Bryson stared blankly at Vistas, tears sitting on his bottom eyelashes. He gazed at the floor, allowing them to fall, but it was Vistas’s next sentence that shook Bryson to his core.

  “She says, ‘Leon Kawi is waiting for his father.’”

  * * *

  Olivia, Toshik, and Vuilni stood at Kindoliya’s main gate on the southern side of Kindoliya, the same one they had used to enter the capital weeks ago when they met Still General Valp for the first time. The general accompanied them once again, but he was atop a military tram ram next to them. The two Jestivan and the Diatia headed all of the Still Kingdom’s military might.

  They awaited the first confirmed visual of opposition, which was difficult through the storm.

  “Can we just charge already?” Toshik asked.

  “Best not to defy any orders given to us,” Olivia said.

  “I agree,” Vuilni said, her braids blowing in the gales. “Let’s start this alliance off on good terms.”

  Toshik sucked his teeth, then looked directly up. “I suppose I can’t complain. At least I’m down here in the thick of it. Bryson’s likely losing his mind in that wall ... if they even get him to go through with it.”

  “Here they come!” a soldier bellowed from behind.

  Olivia narrowed her eyes and caught sight of a wide-sweeping wall of burgundy and black. Had she underestimated the size of a brigade or had she not fully understood what Valp had said? Were those two brigades—one from both kingdoms—bearing down on the capital?

  Before a command was given, Toshik disappeared.

  “Have mercy on whoever gets in his way,” Vuilni said, shaking her head.

  Valp’s massive tram ram lifted its front legs into the air and roared before crashing back to the ice again, shaking the ground beneath their feet. It was the first time Olivia had heard a tram ram make any noise outside of a sluggish grunt. This was definitely a different beast than most.

  The Still army charged through the gate, but attacks were already hitting the enemy in the distance as pillars of ice jutted from the Diamond Sea’s surface.

  Olivia ran with the masses, keeping her speed percentage low to not tire herself. She knew the nature of a battle such as this: long and arduous. Such truths were unavoidable when dealing with numbers on this scale. And unlike the Generals’ Battle and Phesaw invasion, where one side was caught off guard in a setting littered with innocent civilians, this took place on a barren battlefield between two warring alliances.

  As the two sides collided, Olivia made it her mission to seek out any of the higher ranking opponents. If Storshae and Gantski knew who was bunkered in Kindoliya, then they wouldn’t have been careless enough to have only sent foot soldiers. They needed a few elite warriors to counter the Jestivan.

  Olivia stepped to the side, evading a sword and grabbing the attacker’s arm in the process. She spun and ducked under the arm, yanking the soldier in the direction opposite of his planted feet. She hooked him toward the ground, grabbed the back of his head, and slammed it into the ice.

  Footsteps thundered around her. She glanced back to find a Powish soldier aiming a kick at her ribs. Catching his shin with one hand, she tugged his leg, ripping his planted foot from under him and sending him crashing to the ground on his back. She pried the sword from the previous soldier’s hand, lifted it above her head, and slammed the point into the Powish soldier’s throat. The sword fell to the ground as the man’s head tilted sideways.

  Olivia looked up again, noticing a disturbance in the stampede’s tremors. At first, all she could see in the whirling snow were the fights surrounding her. Powish, Devish, and Stillians collapsed in every direction. She would have helped, but something seemed strange—something more pressing beckoned her attention.

  Sure enough, as the ground began to shake hard enough to rattle some soldiers off their feet, a mammoth figure appeared in the blizzard. It was a woman—a giant bigger than Power Warden Feissam, pushing twenty feet. The giant didn’t bother with heavy clothing, for the sheer size of her muscles likely kept her internal organs insulated.

  As it trampled over soldiers, enemies, and friendlies alike, Olivia stared at the beast in shock. It roared, lifting a fist as big as Olivia’s body and aiming it downward, exactly where Olivia stood. Olivia skipped backward. The fist collided with the ice, cracking its surface, but not deep enough to reach water.

  It swung another fist toward Olivia, but this time in a lateral motion. Olivia dodged it again, rolling through the snow that had begun to accumulate on the ice. Looking back, she witnessed the punch send north of fifteen soldiers flying into friendlies and enemies alike.

  Olivia ran toward its feet, keeping her path steady as the storm’s gales tried to sweep her sideways. The giant turned, pulling up its arm and striking downward. This time, Olivia didn’t dodge. She braced herself, throwing her hands above her head and catching the fist.

  Olivia’s knees bent underneath the giant’s force, and the ice around her split like a thunderclap. Grunting, she tried to keep her traction atop the ice. Thankfully, the blizzard had aided her. If there hadn’t been snow on the ground, Olivia would have likely lost her footing and been crushed.

  Bent over and shaking from the strength needed to keep the giant’s fist from overpowering her, Olivia stared at the snow swirling around her boots. She breathed rapidly for a few seconds, preparing to counter the weight above her. She released a roar that might have bested the one from the giant earlier, flexing her biceps and triceps, pushing her hands toward the sky, and lifting the giant’s fist from the back of her shoulders. She tossed it away, heaving once she could stand again.

  The giant’s eyes widened. From what kind of reaction, Olivia could not tell. Its face was barely visible as high up as it was in the storm.

  During the pause, two more soldiers attacked Olivia. “How dare you disrespect our general!” a lady shouted.

  Olivia ducked under the woman’s kick, but quickly stood up straight, raising her arm and catching the man’s chin just as he tried to connect with a punch. She lifted him in the air, his feet dangling above the snow. A powerful gust blew past, one that dragged surrounding soldiers across the ice until they wobbled and toppled over. Olivia released her grasp of the man. Without any footing, he was yanked sideways and sent flailing into the distance.

  The woman grabbed a massive granite maul from her back and swung the block of stone toward Olivia’s ribs with a yell. Olivia caught it and ripped it from the woman’s grasp. Just as Olivia was about to counter, a gigantic hand fell atop the woman instead, plastering her against the ice. Olivia squinted upward. This giant—who apparently was the Power General—had just obliterated one of its own soldiers.

  Olivia rested the granite maul atop her shoulder as if it weighed no more than a sword. The general leaned back and released a war cry, grabbing the attention of every single soul nearby. After a stunned silence, soldiers sprinted away, clearing the way for the ensuing destruction between the two women.

  The general’s roar lasted for several seconds, its muscles somehow enlarging. Its thighs ripped through the seams of its pants, splitting the granite armor that protected its legs. Its arms tore through the sleeves of its uniform. Olivia
had witnessed something similar to this a few times. During the tournament at Phesaw, Vuilni’s body had gone through a similar transformation when she fought Yama. It was definitely an ability unique to Powish.

  The giant finally straightened up, staring at its opponent. Olivia probably looked like a rodent to such a beast. For this rodent to have caught the giant’s fist ... Well, it couldn’t have made the general too happy.

  Without reaching back, the giant threw a fist. Not only had its power increased, but its speed, too. Olivia dove to the side, just narrowly avoiding the disaster. She slid in the snow, the granite maul still in her hand. As soon as she hopped to her feet, she began to sprint. Another fist struck the ice as Olivia circled the giant.

  While Olivia ran, she noticed that the general’s speed may have increased, but its awareness was still the same. It had trouble tracking Olivia, someone who had months of speed training under the gravitational weight of Rhyparia’s ancient. When the giant turned to find the Jestivan, its eyes would dart in a hundred directions, searching for what probably looked like nothing more than a blur of color. In normal conditions, such a target would already be difficult to locate. In a blizzard ... well, that was impossible.

  The giant began to flail hopelessly, and Olivia took advantage of its desperate maneuvers. Another massive fist barreled through the storm. Olivia stood her ground, appearing to try to catch it like earlier. Instead, she leapt forward with all of the power she could muster to counter the blizzard’s winds.

  She landed on top of the giant’s fist and ran across it, reaching its forearm and sprinting for a shred of its tattered sleeve. The granite maul trailed behind her in her left hand. Grabbing a fistful of the torn fabric, she swung through the air as the general tried to shake her free. Using the fabric like it was a hanging vine, she swung toward the giant’s chest, narrowly avoiding its swatting motions. Flashbacks of her time spent in Lallopy Forest’s treetops with Meow Meow as company ran through her mind.

  As her trajectory’s arch took her upward, she let go of the fabric. With the blizzard’s winds now at her back, she soared toward the giant’s face with two hands on the maul’s handle. And just as the general realized what was happening, Olivia swung mightily. The granite block connected with the side of the general’s temple, crushing its skull. One eye bulged from the general’s socket, copious amounts of blood spraying from several orifices.