by Umut Ersezer
He curled himself into the smallest ball his armour would allow, exposing his backplate to the oncoming flame above. The flame passed over him, for what seemed an eternity, he could feel the plate of his armour heating up, searing his skin, cooking his flesh within his armour. He could hear his skin searing underneath the plate. It was blisteringly hot.
The smell, it was the smell of the ordeal that left Trajan nauseous. The flame finally passed by, providing some relief from the excruciating and overwhelming pain. His mind was swimming in deliria, he couldn’t think straight. The pain was so deeply rooted in his mind, unable to be pushed aside, the smell, trapped within his armour forcing its way into his nostrils, it was overwhelming. Trajan threw off his helmet and vomited on the battlefield, feeling ashamed of his weakness.
He always considered it weak for men to heave during a battle, yet here he was, collapsed, vulnerable, injured, unable to fend for himself against harm. It reminded him too much of his childhood. The hopelessness. No, he had fought his way out of that, he could do it again.
But as he stood, his legs gave way, all his energy sapped from him, he felt his vision narrowing, his peripherals darkening until he could only see a point directly in front him. He fell onto his stomach, smoke rising from his burnt plate.
In the distance, he made out a beast of blonde colouring. Not another dragon, please, by the gods. It wasn’t a dragon, it was a horse, galloping towards him, atop it was Shala.
It can’t be, I’m dreaming, I’m dead Trajan thought.
He could barely stay awake. The white horse skidded to a stop right next to him.
“GET UP!” UP! UP! UP!” Shala ordered.
Trajan could only groan back, not believing his eyes.
Shala jumped off the horse, kneeling beside Trajan, touching her hand to his face.
“GET UP YOU FOOL!” Shala ordered Trajan.
Trajan, coming to his senses opened his eyes wider, taking in Shala’s beauty, her braveness, her courage, her intellect, her very being.
“Gah, I’m done for woman, what are you doing here, go!” he commanded.
“Oh shut up will you, are you going to let a little dragon breath get you down?” Shala said as she tried to lift Trajan.
Impossible with the weight of the plate.
“That’s no way to speak to your commander,” Trajan grunted.
“Well, you better live to issue some consequences then,” Shala said cheekily while winking at Trajan.
Trajan gave a painful chuckle, spluttering blood from his mouth. He used his hand to push himself up, his back feeling like it was being torn apart with every little movement.
“Get my helmet and sword,” Trajan instructed, as he climbed to his feet.
Shala did so, hanging them on the straps of her horse.
“It comes again, hurry!” she urged him.
Trajan grunted with pain as he forced himself up onto the horse. The diamonds on his plate were still intact and glowing fiercely white. Shala jumped up nimbly taking the front position.
Trajan rested against her back, holding her tight trying to stay awake. She kicked her horse into motion, but it was struggling, the weight of a plated soldier could be too much for an ordinary horse, let alone the weight of both of them.
They galloped as fast as the horse could manage, but it was breathing heavily, too laboured to keep this pace much longer. Trajan placed two fingers to his mouth, blowing a loud whistle, a tone recognised by his warhorse.
Fergus, came charging from atop the hill towards him, responding instantly. Trajan had never been so grateful for this horse in all his life. Out of the direct line of fire for the moment, he climbed onto his horse. He and Shala rode up the hill, where Trajan could now see the rest of the army scrambling away to safety. This was no longer a controlled retreat but a frantic run for survival.
The dragon circled, breathing fire upon the army over and over, utter devastation soaking the battlefield. Trajan caught up with Mitchim who was admirably still trying to direct soldiers and provide command, but it was no use.
“Report Captain!” Trajan demanded with a hoarse voice
“Sir, we’ve no more ballistae arrows, we have no means to bring the dragon down. A retreat was sounded. It’s mayhem, there’s no controlling this. We need to get away.”
“Blast! Form a guard for me Mitchim, I’m badly burned.
Mitchim, now noticing Trajan’s state, bowed and hurried off looking for soldiers to form a new personal guard for Trajan. He and Shala rode away from the scene, staying close to each other.
“Thank you, Shala,” Trajan said solemnly.
“Don’t thank me yet. We need to get away,” said Shala as she looked back at the dragon still raining fire.
** Chapter 21 **
The Aftermath
Calidum coughed himself awake. He felt a crushing weight upon him, he could barely breathe, and was enveloped in darkness. He wasn’t sure if he was dead or not.
He tried moving his arms and legs, but could barely budge them. His muscles were so sore, his chest giving him stabbing pains with each breath he drew.
He gritted his teeth, forcing his muscles to awaken and push himself up. Movement. He felt the weight above him shift and slide off him. He kept pushing, displacing more of the weight pressing down upon him. With a final heave, he tucked his knee underneath his body and pushed up, his head penetrating up above the mound of bodies that had piled upon and around him.
He coughed hard, plumes of ash fell from his face and hair. There was so much smoke, ash and soot suspended in the air, reflecting the glow of both moons high in the sky giving the scene monochromatic hue.
Cal’s legs were still trapped amongst the bodies, he freed them with what little energy he had to finally step away to take in the scene around him. He realised he had been trapped under many darkspawn and soldiers. There were thousands of them, bodies strewn all across the battlefield, as far as the eye could see. The moons above giving no colour to the hazy view beneath.
Many of the bodies looked burned to a blackened crisp, with some corpses appearing to be frozen in time. Soldiers were cowering on the ground curled into a ball, some holding up a hand to shield themselves. Some were even frozen in a running motion. Cal limped his way over to one of these eerie bodies, one that was still standing somehow, looking up at the sky with his mouth open.
He was blackened from a burn, but his expression of terror had been captured in the moment of his death. Cal poked the shoulder of the man, resulting in him disintegrating into dust. The gentle breeze carrying a little of his ashes away with most of it simply dropping into a pile at Cal’s feet. What happened here?
Cal drew in a breath, reminding him of his broken ribs. He was lucky to be alive, although he wished he wasn’t. He looked toward the forest, it was silent, but for the gentle rustling of the trees. The battle was over, perhaps the war itself. He looked around, trying to find the darkspawn bodies of Fidum and Amet, but it was impossible, a needle in a haystack.
With a sigh, Cal began walking back up the hill towards the staging camp, perhaps he would find the rest of the army there. Each step was made gingerly. He felt so thirsty, his mouth dry with ash and dust he couldn’t spit out.
Cal crested the hill to find a handful of horses, some wandering aimlessly, some grazing of what little grass wasn’t burned away. As calmly as he could, he approached one, saddle still securely fastened. The horse nickered nervously, threatening to bolt at the first sign of trouble from Cal.
“Shhh easy there boy, c’mon now, we need to get back. Let’s work as a team you and me,” Cal said, trying to calm and reassure the horse.
He reached for the reins, grabbing them, gaining control of the horse and calming it with pats to the bridge of its nose. It appreciated the attention, nuzzling its face into Cal.
“That’s a good boy. Come on now, let’s go.”
Cal mounted the honey brown horse and trotted towards the camp. He knew it wouldn’t take him long to get there at this
pace, and he was thankful for the two moons allowing him sight and direction in the darkness.
The concentration of bodies lessened the further he moved from the battlefield. Maybe the rest of them got away? he thought.
He gave a gentle kick to his horse, anxious to get back. As he approached, however, he could see even from a distance the camp was abandoned. There were no torches, no guards or patrols, no sounds, nothing. It was deserted.
He walked his horse through it, taking in the scene of disarray. Wares were strewn everywhere. The footsteps on the ground showed the men to be running, seemingly panicked.
“HELLO!? ANYONE OUT THERE?”
Only silence greeted him.
“Well boy, where to from here? Should we try the garrison?”
Cal’s new companion neighed in disagreement.
“You’re right, I need to see my family. We’ll ride to Vicus, it’ll take us a couple of weeks, but we should manage hey, boy?”
The horse trotted on the spot, excited to get away from this place. Cal wondered what kind of horrors did this horse witness.
“I better name you then boy, we’ve got a bit of a journey ahead of us. How about Auran? Do you like that boy?”
Auran nickered in approval.
“Alright then Auran, let me gather some supplies for us, and we’ll be on our way from this damnation,” Cal said as he patted his new horse.
**
Cal’s ride away from the battlefield to Vicus was uneventful. He was careful during his travels to avoid any potential encounters with people, he didn’t know what the state of the country was in. He could be hauled off again to the garrison if it still stood.
Vicus was now within his sights, it looked to be wrecked, broken, with much of it burned down. Cal gave a deep sigh, his ribs starting to feel a little better, but still tender to the touch. As he approached the village boundary with Auran, he began noticing bodies.
“No, please, not here too, it can’t be,” he said out loud to Auran.
Cal urged his horse into a trot, directing him to Cal’s home, passing decomposing bodies on his way. A disgusting sight, emphasised by a crippling smell of rot. He thought he recognised some of their half decomposed faces from the battlefield with the darkspawn, but he couldn’t be sure.
He arrived at his front door, staring at it for a minute, reluctant to look inside. Cal stepped off his horse and approached the timber door, it hadn’t been touched by fire.
He placed his palm upon the door, it was unlocked, giving little resistance to open. Cal pushed. Stepped inside as he held his breath. Besides some leaves and other debris that had been blown in, it was empty. He let out his breath.
He dropped his eyes to the floor, noticing two distinct pools of blood that had stained the timber. As his eyes adjusted, he saw more details in the room, scatterings of blood also covered some of the walls. His anxiety grew, tears welling up in his eyes.
Cal looked around, checking each room, he noticed the cupboards had been rummaged through, with many things taken. He moved to the basement trapdoor, sliding away the bed that was covering it. He opened it to find many of his family’s belongings had been moved into it. Odd Cal thought.
He stepped away, now heading for the back yard. He looked out, to see two mounds of dirt on the ground, newly dug and roughly the size of bodies. Personal items belonging to Fidum and Amet sat on top of the mounds, with some being blown away by the wind. The realisation washed over Calidum like a tidal wave. Overwhelming his very being. He dropped to his knees, where he would stay for the next few hours, crying in despair, mourning the loss of his beloved and youngest son.
Where are you Volare, where have you gone, my son? Come home, I’ll be here for you. I won’t leave you again. I’m so sorry son, so sorry Cal thought, hoping by some miracle his son could hear his thoughts.
**
Faber and Porro were making their way around the Pointed the Forest. They were following the northern shoreline on their way to Brevis, the capital city of Nni and the homeland of the dwarves.
Faber used the chaos of the retreat to his advantage, choosing to drive his wagon full of wares and tools away from not only the forward battle camp but Honour Haven too. It was his chance for freedom, and he took it, making sure to bring his young apprentice with him.
He had been forced to join the march to ensure they had enough smiths for continued weapon production and repairs, after all, things did tend to break during war.
“Are we there yet?” asked Porro for the hundredth time. Faber grumbled bitterly in response, which Porro had learned means no.
“Can I drive?” Porro asked. Faber looked over to the boy, considering his request.
“I’ve been watching you carefully, I think I can do it. I won’t let the horses’ bolt, promise.”
Faber, slowly handed the reins over to Porro, giving him control of the two horses towing the wagon.
The scenery along the shore was picturesque, contrasting the bleakness of what they were retreating from. It was a sight for sore eyes and a welcome change, to say the least. The air itself smelled cleaner, with a hint of saltiness.
They were still at least three weeks from reaching the city, but they both enjoyed the serenity, the simplicity of their travel.
“So what are we gonna do in Brevis?” asked Porro.
“Well y’see, I’ll need to catch up with err, my wife.”
“Your wife!? I didn’t know you were married.”
“Aye boy, well, it’s complicated, technically we’re still married but, I may have don somthin stupid y’see. She threw me out on my backside. She’s a fiery one.”
“Why?”
“Have you always been so blasted curious boy?”
“You’re my master aren’t you? A good apprentice is supposed to ask questions.”
Faber grunted in response, then softened his demeanour towards his young apprentice.
“My eyes strayed boy, beyond worrying about my forge…and wife.”
“Strayed? Strayed where? What were you looking at?”
Faber gave a long sigh. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya boy? Lasses! It was lasses and drink boy. One ruined my marriage and the other my work. Y’see in dwarven society cheatin’ is seen as deeply dishonourable. I was weak. It cost me everythin’, so I fled to live with humans.”
Porro listened intently, finally understanding the true meaning behind the word ‘stray’.
“Oh,” he replied.
“That’s it? Just oh?”
“Well I mean, cheating and drinking too much in human society is pretty bad as well. I think it’s bad everywhere,” said Porro.
Faber gave another long sigh, looking down now.
“Sorry,” continued Porro. “I mean to say, I’m sure she’ll forgive you. If you…you know, try to make things better with her.”
“You don know’er like I do, she can hold onto the pain until the very sun freezes over. But…I’ll try. I need to return to my people, warn them about what’s going on out there. Help’em where I can.”
Porro gave Faber a big smile.
“Well, you’ve got me now, so your chances of succeeding have at least doubled!”
“Really now? Here I was thinkin’ my chances were halved!” said Faber as he chuckled.
Porro folded his arms, giving Faber a look with squinted eyes.
“Alright, alright, I’m glad you’re coming with me…Porro. C’mon, let’s set up camp for the night.”
** Chapter 22 **
Zelogh, The God Dragon
“The chamber is below us Volare, I can now sense it!” boomed Ferox. “Here too the sands have swallowed the entrance.”
Volare and Ferox had been flying for several days across the planet. Their destination was the country of Terram on the continent of Ozos, the homeland of the humans.
They were far from any human settlement, exploring central Terram which was dominated by the Harena Desert. It was a barren and desolate land with little to offer i
n the form of shelter, food or water.
Volare and Ferox prepared as best they could for the final leg of the journey, but they needed to find the sleeping chamber of Zelogh soon.
“Can you blow the sand away?” shouted Volare.
“Only one way to find out.”
Ferox nose-dived towards the sands below, sending Volare’s stomach to his throat during the frightening descent. Volare always found the nose dives to be both an exhilarating and nauseating experience.
Ferox adjusted his approach, decreasing the angle of his decline. In the final moment before skidding onto the sand, he gave several mighty beats of his wings, to not only stop his descent in mid-air but also blow away the sands beneath. He generated huge gusts of wind, whipping up the sands, sending it flying off into the distance.
Volare shielded his eyes from the fine granules enveloping the air around him.
“It’s working!” Volare cried out, seeing glimpses of metal being exposed from beneath the sands, glittering under the suns light.
“A little more then I will land us.”
Ferox kept beating his wings until he had cleared a massive volume of sand, totally exposing the metallic gates to the sleeping chamber. There were familiar markings of symbols on its surface that Volare recognised .
Ferox, slowed his beats, gently descending once more in a controlled and calm motion. Volare couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief every time the dragon touched his feet to the ground to make a landing.
Volare’s ears always needed adjusting after landing as well, popping and clicking with the change in altitude. It was also striking how quiet it was around him once the noise of wind and Ferox’ wings beating ceased. Nature around him always seemed to have such a contrasting sound of calmness when compared to the rush of air filling his ears.
Ferox’s feet crunched the sand beneath as he drew in his wings, folding them into his body. Volare was regularly impressed with how graceful and nimble the movement of the dragon was, considering his massive size. His scales always shone with brilliant purples and blues in the sunshine, exuding not only power but beauty.