by Ajax Lygan
Tempest feared the worst when he and Riika landed next to her limp body. Riika sprang into action, bracing herself between the two boulders, pressing them apart with her powerful legs. Tempest fell backwards as he wrapped his arms under Saïgra's shoulders and pulled back in a quick motion.
When he looked up, he saw her lower half had transformed into vines, squeezing their way through the cracks between the two giant rocks. Tempest watched Riika slowly pull up the entangled vines as he concentrated on healing the dryad. He scanned her body, looking for further signs of injury or trauma, but there were none.
She was breathing and didn’t appear to be wounded, but she was unconscious.
“Tempest, we need to go,” Riika shouted, looking out at the battlefield.
Tempest met her gaze and saw dozens of the construct-like creatures marching straight toward them. Tempest rolled to his side as a King Orum’s fiery breath landed in the middle of the group, attempting to shield Saïgra from the heat. When he stood with Saïgra’s torso, the only thing remaining of the approaching enemies were sizzling shins that had been fused into the charred glass, like the smoldering remnants of a campfire.
As he looked upward, he found that the gateway had changed from a sphere into a clawed opening more akin to a tear—an opening ripped between the two worlds. The full weight of the Nysit army was beginning to emerge as new creatures entered the battle. Giant floating purple brains rained powerful beams of energy onto the ground units out of their singular eyes. Rolling minotaur sized sacks of flesh, scooped troops up whole in their giant maws. A group of blood sorcerers leading lines of smooth-horned creatures shackled in chains stopped in the middle of the battlefield. They dropped the horned creatures to their knees and immediately sacrificed them, creating floating pools of blood above their heads as fuel for their corrupt, magical energy.
In response, the hydra fully engaged.
Queen Vatia led the airborne defenders, corralling the airborne units to focus on the giant brains. King Orum called down flaming meteors from the sky, bombarding the no-man’s land between the two armies’ lines. Kasta used the blackened sands to her advantage, calling forth black tentacles which slowed, ripped into, and finally tore the bodies of the approaching horrors apart, giving them a taste of their own medicine.
It was enough to buy them time for now. In the chaos of it all, Tempest saw an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.
The bestial general guarding the sorcerer had his entire focus on the dragons flying above, leaving both of them exposed. Tempest handed Saïgra to Riika before pointing back toward the carts behind them. The carts hauling off the wounded now numbered in the dozens, thanks to Ella’s and Alfonso’s assistance.
Alyndra’s reserve rushed toward them off in the distance, ready to reinforce the crushed right flank.
“Take her to the carts and tell Alyndra to get ready,” Tempest commanded.
“What are you going to do?” Riika asked.
“Hopefully kill two birds with one stone. I need to clear this mess enough to permit Alyndra’s reinforcements to get through while also giving these assholes a bit of payback.”
“Be careful!” she shouted as she turned away, took a few steps back, and then sprang forward, leaping across the barrier of broken ents.
Tempest thought about Saïgra’s use of earth magic and how it might apply to his own force abilities. An idea popped into his head as he floated above the bodies of two giant stone elementals. He shaped the boulders, compacting them with force while manipulating their composition, making them denser and harder.
They became perfect circles as Tempest lined them side by side, pointing them at the sorcerer and the gateway. He built up a massive amount of force behind each of them; he wanted them to blast forward so fast, that it left his foes little time to react. When he was ready, he released the stones.
The boulders left bloody smears in their wake, killing thousands of the enemy’s ground forces as they crashed toward the gateway. His aim had been true, giving Tempest hope that this might soon end the battle. But the giant creature noticed the danger at the last second, slamming itself into the side of one boulder and sending it careening into the other one, shattering them both.
The effectiveness of Tempest’s attack was immediate, however, as the portal reverted itself back to its oval shape, bolts of purple electricity sparked around it. When the cloud of rock dust settled, it was clear that the five sorcerers maintaining the stability of the portal were down to three. The giant commander stood, bleeding heavily as a large chunk of his upper left torso, including his left arm, had been shredded.
Tempest’s smile was wicked, as the beast let out an ear-piercing screech. His smile quickly faded, though, as the nasty wound healed itself, the writhing tentacled mass producing another functional arm.
Tempest turned, and floating backwards, he put his focus on his next task. He spent the next several minutes using the same method as before, combining what little he had figured out from Saïgra’s gifts and his force magic to build a makeshift wall and choke point. It was complete with ladders, guard towers, railings, and serrated vine walls. He hoped to funnel the enemies into a kill-zone that would make it easier for a smaller force to hold.
Once complete, Alyndra was able to completely entrench her forces behind the parapets, shifting from cavalry to ranged defenders. He watched Alyndra cast a spell creating thousands of cloned troops of her army. However, this was different from her assault on Ashwreath’s walls. The shining gold clones made from bright yellow energy shot arrows of electrified light that put holes through the approaching forces.
In addition to Alyndra’s army, Alfonso’s supply line was the key to their saving grace for the change in tactics, as they were already busy behind the wall, bringing forward much needed bows and ammunition. With Alyndra’s magical buffer supporting her soldiers, Ashwreath’s archers began sending barrages of arrows downrange, the cloud of death killing or immobilizing the enemy where they stood.
With the right flank secured, Tempest returned to his companions, who were still assisting in the effort to recover as many wounded dryads as they could. As he flew above the battle, he recognized the lifeless white dryad bodies across the tan sand. Their numbers were nearly the same even after the rescue efforts began.
They weren’t making fast enough progress. He knew they needed more men. With a small thud, he landed beside Riika and Bram, who were each carrying dryads by the armful back to the carts, panting as they pushed their bodies to the limit.
“We need more assistance!” Tempest shouted. “We’re not making progress fast enough.”
“Aye, tell me something I don’t know, boy,” Bram grunted, spitting as he ran. “I tried telling that to your lizard friend over there with Ella, but he didn’t give two shites.”
Tempest ran over to the carts where Ella and Alfonso stood. Alfonso directed supplies while Ella was stirring the contents of a giant barrel with a spout on the end.
“Alfonso, can you spare any more hands?” Tempest asked, panting. “There’s no telling how long that wall will hold, and if Nysit’s army breaches it, Ashwreath’s troops will all die.”
“I would if I could, your Eminence,” Alfonso said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “The problem is, each of our supply lines are evenly distributed. If I take away from one, it’s going to hinder another. I simply do not have enough people.”
Tempest paused for a minute, trying to think of some solution. “What about the elves, the ones that were on Häguin’s machines?” Alfonso took his hat off and shook his head.
“Most of them were killed in the blast by the glass shrapnel from their own machines. Those who survived, left with Häguin nearly soon after.”
“He ran?! That fucking coward!” Tempest didn’t have time to stew as he heard his name called back from behind. It was Sindaar who was pointing over his shoulder as he hunched over, gasping for air.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Saïgr
a, she’s awake.”
Tempest sprinted back toward the back of Bram’s cart, where Bram and Riika were both hovering. Tempest jumped into the back of the cart where Saïgra laid in one of the hanging beds. Her movements were slow and her voice was weak, but she smiled as she looked up at him.
“Tempest…”
Tempest placed his arms around her and squeezed. Tears trickled down his face as a wave of emotion washed over him. He’d had a strong mental barrier in place at the start of the battle but seeing his companion like this burst through it, his dam cracking.
“Don’t speak, just rest,” he said, pulling away from her.
She smiled, placing a palm on his cheek, using her thumb to brush away his tears. “The Queen and the Great Tree were destroyed,” she whispered. “The Firegrove is no more.”
Tempest’s hand covered his mouth as he pulled back. He’d known that something drastic had to have happened, but he never expected this. “How is that…” Tempest stopped as he connected the dots of the sorcerer’s attack and the death of the Firegrove. If that amount of energy had flashed to the other side of the planet and hit the Great Tree, it would have devastated the grove.
“With the Queen’s loss, the spirits of the grove float aimlessly among the world with nothing to tether them here. The efforts by our allies our wasted. My sisters’ bodies are nothing more than shells, without their souls.”
“Then how are you still alive?”
“I have you to thank for that,” she said, smiling. “Our bond is now my tether. Somehow, this is something I believe the Queen predicted, which is why she was so adamant about bringing us together.”
A dark feeling crept into Tempest’s mind as he thought about how the Queen would have known. He remembered his dreams of the Great Tree burning, the apians pinned along its branches, the harrowing sight of the smiling face in the middle of the fire. He slammed his fist into his knee, recognizing that if he’d only had the foresight to realize what it all meant, he could have prevented so much pain.
Saïgra’s gentle hands stroked his cheeks as she pulled him close. “You are not here to blame yourself. You’re here to protect our people. Now go, my Aspect, go and protect our people.”
“I will,” he promised.
The two embraced and he gave the last dryad a kiss before rising to his feet. Tempest turned back once he reached the back of the cart, looking at Saïgra’s sleeping body. He committed to keeping that promise.
“What did she say?” Riika asked, as Tempest jumped out from the back of the cart.
“You can stop carrying the bodies,” Tempest said, staring off into the distance.
“What do you mean?” Bram shouted, gripping Tempest’s arm and spinning him around.
“The dryads are gone, now that Queen Maileath is dead. The sorcerer’s attack earlier must have burned the Firegrove to the ground. When the Queen was killed, all of the spirits tied to her were released.”
“What about Saïgra? How is she still alive?”
“Don’t ask me how, but when Saïgra and I bonded, she established a connection with me, not just the Queen. But she’s completely incapacitated.”
Bram dropped the bodies he was carrying and shouted dwarven obscenities as he stormed off.
“Don’t worry about him,” Riika said, grabbing Tempest’s shoulder. “He’s upset. He just needs some time.”
“I don’t blame him; this is a day which will weigh on us for the rest of our lives.”
Riika pulled Tempest into her embrace. “Yes, but we’ll have each other. When the days are black and our minds wander in the darkness, we’ll be each other’s light.”
Tempest leaned back, looking at Riika’s smile. “I never would have taken you for a poet,” he said with a smirk.
“It’s something my Da’ used to say to me when I would feel sad. He called me his moonstone and would hold me just like you are now.”
“I’m sorry about your father. I wish I could have met him. He sounded like a wonderful man.”
“He was, and something tells me he would have loved you.”
The two stood, holding each other and simply relishing the moment; everything around them fell away. Tempest knew without his companions here, the world itself would have been lost. He would have fallen to despair long ago or have been killed along the way. He needed them as much as they needed him.
As the two stood, restored by their embrace, Riika’s voice alerted him to an approaching danger. “Do you feel that?” she asked, her voice sharp with concern.
Tempest’s eyes shot open as he pulled back, looking up at Riika who was staring off to the west.
“There’s a rumble in the ground.”
“Well, yeah, there is a war going on,” Tempest jested in poor taste.
“No, it’s coming from all around us. There’s something approaching from the west and the north.
“I’m going to go take a look,” Tempest said, letting go of Riika as he launched himself into the air. He reminded himself to thank Sophia for his new apian-like vision, giving him crystal clear vision for miles away. From the west, a smallish group was charging toward them, led by an Elven man riding a gigantic snake. Following less than a mile behind him, a large horde of goblins, ogres, and trolls marched toward the western flank.
As Tempest turned to face the north, the tan sea of sand was engulfed by a tsunami of red. The four bladed constructs had somehow made their way to the north and were marching in on their flank.
The armies of the kingdoms of Iðna would be crushed between them.
With no more reinforcements and their army already weary, a sliver of fear gripped Tempest’s mind as concern for his companions shifted his priorities. He tried to swallow, realizing his throat was dry. He took a swig from his waterskin and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Maybe Häguin was right.
26
The Saved and the Savior
Tempest’s concerns grew as the sand near their back line shifted. The sand bubbled as if a heated geyser was forming underneath it. The grains liquified as unorthodox shapes rose to the surface.
Animated skeletons rose from the sands, clutching shields and weapons carved from bone. Their green glowing eyes sparkled like emeralds. Tempest was surprised, though, when they faced away from his companions and faced the approaching army from the north.
As the whirlpool grew, so did the number of skeletons that rose. Hundreds of thousands seemed to appear within less than a minute, clawing their way to the surface of the liquified sand. However, it wasn’t the army that was the most impressive.
A large arm sprouted from the back of the sand before another. Lifting itself above the surface was a giant creature shaped from hundreds of thousands of bones fused together. It had massive forearms the size of castle keeps. Its body lurched, top heavy like that of a primate. U-shaped horns sprouted from a humanoid skull. Yet there were embrasures along the hallowed body, and balconies built along the head and shoulders. The creature was a living fortress.
“It’s Van Jütenheim!” Tempest shouted, watching the vampires appear, floating above the battlefield, following a series of puffs of smoke. With the city-sized bone golem at the ready, the skeleton army charged forth, meeting Nysit’s constructs in a battle royale of the unliving. No longer concerned about his northern flank, Tempest turned to the approaching enemies from the west. The solo group of nearly a hundred troops, running along with the giant snake, was now more than a mile ahead from the slow-moving mass of goblins.
What are they trying to do? Tempest wondered at the tactics they used. Nevertheless, he prepared to face them head on, ready to protect the flank with everything he had. He ignored the draconic screams and blasting waves of heat coming from behind him. He had to put his trust in the faith of his companions, that his allies would do as he was about to, and hold their respective lines.
Tempest descended in between Bram, who was reloading his arbalest-sized crossbow, and Riika, who had just pulled
Lightning Breath from her back. She activated the second rune, sending blue lightning across the length of the massive sword.
“Did you see who’s coming for seconds?” Riika asked, spitting out into the sands.
Tempest squinted at their approaching enemy. There was no mistaking the white-haired elf who rode atop the giant-snake. It was Vesstian the Red, followed by his remaining troops, the bandits called The Ravenous.
“I don’t care what happens,” Riika said, turning around facing Tempest, Bram, and the boys. “The asshole on the snake is mine.”
“Fair enough, bonnie, but if I feel you’re in trouble, your Uncle Bram is jumping in.”
“We all will,” Tempest added, with an agreeing groan from the boys.
Riika clicked her tooth as she turned around, staring down the approaching danger.
“Hey Tempest, you remember that maneuver we did when we engaged them last time?” Riika asked, a slight smirk creeping across her cheek.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Think you can throw me faster, now?”
Tempest slowly turned his head to look at her, his eyebrow raised. “Yeah, I know I can,” he said, chuckling, suddenly understanding her strategy. It wasn’t really a surprise, though. Riika always loved the direct approach.
With the Ravenous less than a few hundred feet away, Riika, Tempest, Bram, and the boys marched forward to meet them on the field of battle. Tempest began building up the force needed to throw Riika at a high velocity, his non-dominant hand resting on the hilt of one of his blades.
“Tempest, on my signal!” Riika shouted, as she quickened her pace to a jog.
Tempest matched her speed as the two groups careened toward each other. Tempest noticed the enemy’s speed had also increased as they approached. When they were less than fifty-feet apart, Riika gave the signal.