Always read the fine print—that’s how people get you!
***
Aila wasn’t the only one still awake.
Tommie was still awake too, working by lamplight on his Gnome-inator again to make corrections from when he worked on it on the boat. He inserted the final piece and slowly slid it into place. He pulled on two levers; hooks grabbed onto the last piece and hooked it into place.
There was a sound of moving gears. Tommie checked his testing equipment. As steam was released, the entire Gnome-inator moved.
Tommie ran around. “Damn, damn, damn!”
He winced as the contraption rose up and hit the chandelier above. The glass crystals rained down and hit the ground below as Tommie dodged the crystals and tried to stop the Gnome-inator from rising.
Finally he hit the right control on the Gnome-inator and its gears slowed to a halt. Steam shot out from its structure.
“Okay, maybe power it up in an open space next time.” Tommie let out a nervous laugh as he looked up at his masterpiece.
A wide smile split his face as he looked at the final project.
His smile faltered as he continued to look at it.
He found peace in working, but something was missing. He wasn’t working out of joy but to try to divert his attention.
It has been my goal for years to complete the Gnome-inator, but now—now why do I feel more anxious than excited?
He stepped backward and sat down on a chair. He didn’t look at the Gnome-inator, his life’s work. He looked at the ground covered in plaster and crystals, the wood scuffed up in places.
“I just wanted to go and see the elven capital, to get the last parts I needed to finish the Gnome-inator. I wanted to show them what I could do, how I’m more than just a gnome tagging along. I—I wanted them to be impressed.” He looked up at the Gnome-inator. “In the last war, there had to be all kinds of machines, the best of the best working together. What will my Gnome-inator have on them?”
Tommie looked at the ground and shook his head. “I’m no great inventor. I’m just a gnome looking to impress some of his friends. They have this epic quest to save the world, to push back the forces of chaos. I’m just a gnome from Laisa—what can I do? Aila is an elven princess. Anthony is a Guardian—Claire, too. Damien is a powerful undead.” Maybe it is time to go home, to get out of their way. I can tell people about my adventure, use my Gnome-inator to help out.
He looked up at the Gnome-inator. It was a grand and powerful machine.
“Well, I finally did it.” His smile was bittersweet as his doubts filled his head.
Chapter: Memory Lane
Anthony saw deserts, mountains, wandered jungles and got stuck in bogs. He traveled with humans, with gnomes, dwarves, beast kin, and elves. He watched the birth of elementals, and made friends with many. It was a good time, a carefree time.
Anthony blinked and yawned, looking around at the wall all around him. The bodies had been cleared away, but the smell of death—of blood—remained, staining those walls.
Scavengers appeared on the battlefield in front of the wall, picking at the dead that lay there. Overhead, birds circled, looking to get their prizes.
Bodies and armor covered the ground. The Drafeng laid bare. They were a tall race that looked similar to horses.
“All their light has gone out,” Tairlyn said. The small dwarf walked over with Troga Kagan. The massive ox warrior was four or five times her size but neither of them lost out in presence. Tairlyn’s armor was scratched and stained. The famed smith hadn’t had the time to repair or care for her armor since the beginning of the siege that started three weeks ago. On her hip, there was her famed stone hammer while across her body she had used every spare space to place pistols.
Troga Kagan’s armor was in worse shape and there was a bandage on his left arm. His eyes were sunken and tired as he sat down on some rubble. Using his bloodline gave him explosive fighting power on the battlefield, but it was hard to sustain over long periods of time. He started drinking a potion as Anthony looked at the Drafeng.
“Kind of feel for them,” he said in a low voice.
When they were alive, they were lit up with all different colors. They consumed the power around them to create magical limbs, to imbue their bodies with greater power. Though there was a cost to using this power: their bodies and their very lives. When the lights died and their bodies lay there, one was able to see their true form instead of being blinded by the light of their power.
Their bodies looked to be formed from clay. They looked like farmers’ fields with different patchwork additions to their body. Their power caused them to fall apart, so they tried to put themselves back together to use more. So the cycle continued again and again.
“They’re like the elves: if they use too much power, then they consume their life force.” Troga leaned against the wall with his eyes closed.
“I heard that the door in southern Ilsal has been sealed.” Tairlyn grunted as she used the wall as a back rest and half squatted down.
“Good. That means there are only four more doors.” Anthony looked out over the battlefield, across the plains that funneled into Doomskeep, looking at the northern lands.
“And three of them are here,” Troga said.
“The combined armies hold the passes to the east and the west. The seventh combined army is moving to reinforce us in three days. Then we’ll be able to strike out against the gates. The combined navy patrol the northern shores, making sure that none of the Drafeng can escape. Two elementals went to assist them,” Tairlyn said.
“Never get into a fight with an elemental. The smaller they are, the scarier.” Troga spoke from experience.
Anthony smiled and shook his head. “Didn’t you take on an Earth elemental?”
Troga groaned. “I wanted a quick fight, but they have a skewed sense of time. He beat me up for three weeks!”
“Explains a few things.” Tairlyn nodded.
Troga sighed and sat back as Tairlyn and Anthony shared a smile.
Anthony was about to open his mouth when a deep horn sounded out over the keep.
People who had been sitting or lying down got up, alert and functioning as they scanned around the fortress that lay between two mountain ridges.
The defenders looked at the column of glowing lights that were moving up the mountain path again.
“The east and west lines are reporting no activity on their side. Scouts believe that the majority of the accumulated Drafeng in the northern region are coming toward us. Fifty percent strength. Check the weaponry and defenses.” Claire’s voice filled the fortress.
“She’s well suited for management.” Troga sat down again. “Wake me up when they start shooting.”
“I’m going to go and check on the weapons.” Tairlyn grunted, her knees not cooperating with her.
Anthony reached over and helped her to her feet.
“Ta!” She walked off down the lines.
Gnomes were checking their contraptions. Mages were checking their mana potion placement and warming up, ready to cast their defensive or offensive spells as needed.
Ballistas strings were checked. Dwarven cannons and mortars were uncovered and checked before being loaded. Rifles were loaded and bows were strung as the fortress readied itself.
Different groups of Guardians who came from all walks worked together. Their force of nearly three hundred commanded the fortress.
“How many of them are there?” Troga asked in a low voice.
“How would I know?” Anthony muttered.
“Solomon,” Troga said, raising an eyebrow.
A man with black eyes and gray skin appeared beside Anthony, wearing a butler’s attire. “They have around five thousand chaotic beasts, five hundred true Drafeng and around twenty of their commanders.”
A golden dragon circled Anthony’s arm and expanded into a thin man wearing a golden robe. There was a holy atmosphere around him as he looked over the wall. A green l
ight appeared behind Anthony, transforming into a demi-human bull wearing a green pair of shorts.
A red light appeared, transforming into a woman who was sitting on the battlements, wearing a red gauze dress.
A young-looking girl wearing white appeared above Anthony’s shoulder and rested there, putting her elbows on her knees as she looked out at the oncoming army. She had a conflicted look on her face as she pouted.
Bruce walked over to Troga. “You will hurt yourself like that.” He sighed as he touched Troga’s shoulder.
“I still live, you old bull.” Troga gave a toothy grin.
As Bruce let out a laugh, a green energy passed through his hand and into Troga.
A faint mirage appeared beside Troga before resolving into an oxen beast kin.
“You think you can steal my descendant!” the old ox complained, letting out an annoyed huff.
“Well, if you took better care of the younger generation...” Bruce said.
Troga’s expression relaxed. The power from Bruce restored some of his power while Bruce and the old ox clan spirit argued with each other.
“Beast kin spirits are always the loudest,” the little white pixie on Anthony’s shoulder said.
Solomon let out a noise of agreement.
“We’re the most alive!” the red-dressed lady said.
“Wendy,” Anthony said to the pixie and then shot a look at the proud-looking Penelope.
“Why did I have to get reborn and turned into a familiar?” Penelope pouted. “Share a host with you lot, even a dragon!”
“Don’t bring me into this!” Dave complained, looking to Solomon.
He smiled and bowed, before turning into a shadow and disappearing.
“I know where you live!” Dave yelled after Solomon’s disappearing shadow.
“How do you deal with all of them?” Troga asked Anthony.
Anthony just shrugged as Troga laughed and stood.
“Won’t be long until they’re in range. We just need to hold for three days,” Troga said.
Time moved along as the day turned into night. The Drafeng army halted their progression and readied their siege weaponry. They built conversion towers that would draw in the power of Dena and turn it into power and food for their forces to use, increasing their combat capabilities.
“In the past fights, it looks like they have been able to figure out our range.” Troga sighed as he checked the basket of spears on his back one by one before he drew out his rough iron-looking halberd. He moved it as if it were nothing more than a broomstick.
Dounk. The metal and the stone let out a dull noise as Troga placed its spiked end on the ground, checking the long, curved blade at the end of the metal monstrosity.
“Expecting them to get close?” Anthony asked.
Troga looked at Anthony. The two of them shared the same thought as Anthony looked back at the approaching army and Troga sharpened his weapon.
“One day, there will be peace, but not today.” Anthony leaned on the battlements. He closed his eyes and saw within the enemy camp. The conversion towers were rising higher as lines of chaos cannons were brought forward and checked. They looked to have been made of a stone barrel and wheels, with a glass tube that circled the barrel. Shifting lights could be seen in the glass tubes as they drew in the converted power.
Hours felt like days and people’s nerves got worse. People ate food and laid down; most slept out of exhaustion.
Anthony opened his eyes as he saw mana barriers appearing in the sky. Brilliant balls of twisting light struck the mages’ mana barriers, exploding and fizzling out.
Whoump-douvv. The noise of the chaos cannons rolled after the initial hits.
Anthony stood up quickly, his familiars positioned around him. Bruce stood with the oxen clan spirit. The two of them looked down at the enemy while Penelope and Dave stood beside each other. She fired red bolts from her fingers as he fired golden bolts, intercepting the balls of chaotic power, causing them to explode before they reached the mana barriers.
A chaos round struck the wall, causing it to shake and gouging out another section of the wall.
“All defensive units to the wall!” Claire ordered as Guardians who had been resting now ran up the steps to the fortress walls. The fortress’s defenses grew in strength.
Troga grabbed a spear. His body glowed with power as he threw his spear, intercepting another incoming round.
The skies of the mountain pass were lit up with the chaotic rounds being struck down with dwarven rifles, gnome ballistas, or struck with other ranged attacks, intercepted with spells or slamming into mana barriers that were cast in their path.
They weren’t able to stop all of the rounds there were just too many.
One hit the battlements, taking out a ballista position, exploding and striking the defenders on the wall near it.
People were screaming and yelling. Others would never yell out again.
Melee-type Guardians rushed in, gathering the wounded and taking them to the healers.
Destruction filled the skies and the wall as Anthony looked at the Drafeng army. They stood there, powering their cannons, firing them again and again.
They knew that the Guardians could retaliate effectively from their walls. Their cannons’ rounds lost power traveling that distance, but they only needed to feed more chaotic power into the cannons to fire them again.
Night turned into day, and then day into night. The rate of fire decreased, but the defenders were getting tired, unable to sleep, only rotating off for a few minutes or hours before they had to defend again. The melee types took over bringing them potions and moving the necessary supplies, dealing with the wounded, and working on weapons.
Anthony looked back to the keep’s main tower. Atop it, their strongest mages were alternating between offensive and defensive spells.
He saw Claire. Her hair was swept up into a bun; mana moved around her as she chanted and drew in the air around her. Lines of mana appeared and floated in the air, circling her as she kept casting.
For her to be using ritual magic—this doesn’t look like it will be fun for the Drafeng.
Five elven mages finished casting a group spell. Mana from the surroundings and from their bodies weaved together to create a semi-clear tree trunk that rose up, spreading its branches out. Leaves bloomed, connecting to one another and creating a canopy that stretched over the fortress, and then dropped around it.
“Tree of Defense,” Anthony said.
Everyone stopped trying to attack the incoming chaos rounds as they would only strike the mana barrier, weakening their mages.
Rounds hit the tree-formed mana barrier, causing it to shake and lose some leaves. But there were more layers underneath.
The original casters traded off with others; they drank down mana potions as everyone relaxed in place.
Several mages upon that rooftop continued to cast their spells, the air stirring up as Dena itself seemed excited to bear witness.
One of the spells was completed as the power gathered upon the roof of the fortress turned into a beam of light that shot up into the skies above the enemy.
Several spell formations appeared in the sky, drawn out in mana as the skies darkened and rumbled with immense power. The formations connected to one another and a central formation was drawn out in the skies.
Upon completion, it started to turn in the skies, drawing in the mana of Dena, drawing in the wind and the clouds. The skies darkened; clouds appeared and lightning forked between each cloud.
The wind howled as day turned to dark as night, the only light coming from the tree barrier. The chaos rounds shattered upon its branches. The cannons fired and the Drafeng army looked up at the forces of nature coming together.
As the mana in the area grew in density, so did their power. Their commanders started to fire spells into the clouds above, wiping away sections of the spell formation.
The spellcaster let out a yell as they reformed or destroyed part o
f the spell, pushing onward.
Anthony held onto the battlements, the air pushing against him. People on the wall held on as they watched the forces of nature, bent to elven will.
Suddenly, the skies opened up. Rain fell as if the ocean were draining from the sky, striking the ground with such force that dirt and rocks were thrown up into the sky and carried along by the water.
The fortress was like a boat in the ocean as rain poured from the skies. The wind whipped it up, shaking the branches of the mana barrier and cutting into the walls of the mountain path that sloped down toward the Drafeng.
The water was like a charge of horses. The Drafeng cried out in alarm as they attacked the spells above. The chaotic beasts roared, directly confronting the water rushing at them with their own attacks, burning through the power stored in their bodies, burning through their life source.
The wave weakened and burned off.
Commanders stepped forward. Threads of power joined them to the beasts. They drew upon their life source, consuming it for their own as they joined their power together. A wedge of power appeared in the path of the water. The wedge of chaotic power shook and lit up, more of the beasts being used as power sources for the commanders who stood in the path of the attack.
The water, forced apart, hit the valley walls of the mountain path.
The second spellcaster finished his spell and dropped to the rooftop.
“The Northern King.”
A man shrouded in snow, formed of ice and black stone, appeared in the sky. His body was covered in magical runes as he stood in midair, twenty foot tall.
He took a breath and breathed over the valley. The rain that fell from the skies turned into ice shards that struck the mountain pass below, cutting into stone, tearing up the ground, and hitting the wedge formation of the Drafeng army. Beasts and people were struck, nailing them to the ground. The lake that had formed in the mountain pass solidified; ice turned into veins that spread through the water. It spread so quickly that the water smashing against the Drafeng barrier was stopped there, rising up into the sky.
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