by M C Holloway
Harchand looked through the spyglass again to obtain any additional information that may have proved useful to the alliance. The sight only gave him a feeling of dread. There were the warriors of Demanonis that Marcendes had explained to them in council a month back. Their wildly coloured hair cropped in various styles was already an intimidating sight. The looks on their bloodthirsty faces is what truly gave them their menacing presence. Their bandoliers held spiked balls, which was no doubt the explosive weapons Marcendes had warned them about.
“They’re on the way. It won’t be long now,” Harchand said.
“Very well. Hold position and let the magic glyph traps take some of their numbers down. When they cross the glyph line, archers will open fire with their arrows. Anything after that, we leap into the fray and fight,” Jarl Bosvir said, gripping his hammer tightly.
The sound of footsteps marching forward, and a light breeze was all that could be heard on the plains. The clouds continued to darken above the armies as the togastas quickly advanced to meet the alliance.
A couple of explosions of blue light ahead rang through the air, sending some of the togastas flying. Marcendes clenched his jaw in anticipation; the moment of reckoning had finally arrived.
Chapter 12 Into the Darkness of War
The togastas charged forward, mad with battle lust. They began letting their explosive spiked balls fly from their handheld catapults and bombarded the alliance with a series of explosions. The archers countered by letting a barrage of arrows fly into the air. The sheer number of arrows blotted out the sky for a time as they sailed onwards into their arc before raining down on the wild savages. Hundreds of them dropped, felled by the attack.
The archers of the alliance repeated the tactic again, and the togastas started picking up the pace to close the distance faster. Glyphs lit up from the ground and exploded all around the army, taking more of the feral warriors out. Yet, it hardly slowed them down as they continued their death march for the alliance.
Once the glyphs had all exploded, the togastas had significant gaps in their ranks, gaps that the alliance felt confident they could break further apart. The togastas continued their charge for the alliance and were only fifty yards or so when the front lines all drew their weapons, prompting the others to do the same. Another barrage of explosive spiked balls went up and the archers decided to counter them by shooting their arrows at them skyward, to set them off in the air.
The volleys between both sides became the archers of the alliance shooting down the spiked balls before they could explode on their ranks, and then countering by shooting double the shots twice as fast to return fire.
“Very well, into battle we go!” Duke Queras roared as he swung his naginata in a wide sweeping arc, taking out a swath of the savage army.
“To arms!” Jarl Bosvir replied, taking his battle hammer into his hands, and smashing the head of his powerful weapon through the ranks of the togastas.
The chaos had officially broken out on the plains as the two armies melded into a mix of brutal melee combat. Steel rung against steel and the sounds of magic being cast as well as battle cries were heavy in the air.
Marcendes moved through the togastas with a special vanguard of Jarl Bosvir and Duke Queras’s soldiers, protecting the mage in close quarters while he searched for Demanonis. He figured the sooner he could take him down, the sooner the alliance could have their victory. The vanguard cut down any attackers that got too close to the great wizard as they moved around the main source of the fighting. Marcendes paused as he saw a mage in crimson robes, commanding the togastas at the rear echelon of the army. Marcendes immediately began heading for the evil mage.
On the hill, the witch coven began casting their spells, a barrage of slime balls falling on the scattered togastas in the distance, slowing their movement and causing mass confusion. Neo and Bailey watched in amazement at how efficient the witches were, and at how much Gracie had grown in her own abilities as well.
Sav conjured forth a ball of lightning the size of a melon that hovered in her hands as she said to Gracie and Keira, “Okay girls, let’s team cast like we practiced!”
“You got it!” Gracie replied as she cast a small ball of wind within the lightning ball, giving more potency to the crackling bolts barely restrained to it. Sav then sent the ball shooting up into the air, heading for the togastas.
When the ball stopped over the back ranks, Keira cast a fireball and held it, masterfully guiding it to where the lightning sphere was. Once it had appeared above the crackling lightning ball, Keira sharply pointed down and the fireball slammed into the lightning, engulfing it into flames and doubling in size as it crashed down into the togastas. The flames exploded and rushed outwards from a powerful gust of wind while the lightning pierced through the savages, sending them into convulsions of shock while the flames burned them.
“Spectacular hit, girls!” Sav cried to them.
“That will show them!” Bailey added, pumping his fist.
A sight from behind the lines gave Mrs. Lors cause for concern as she watched a dark, swirling portal form behind the togastas. A sickly yellow and green group of creatures emerged from it, some riding on large spiders. They looked identical to the oinks that were among their ranks, as Idok let out a grunt of surprise and alarm.
“Mrs. Lors…what exactly are we looking at?” Neo asked.
“…they’re the corrupted oinks of an evil mage. But…they shouldn’t be around anymore…the mage hasn’t been seen for years,” Mrs. Lors replied, worry taking over her tone.
“Evil oinks?” Bailey asked, before taking another glance to get a better look.
The evil oinks had plant-like tendrils where the normal tentacles would be. Their eyes were completely black, save an eerie red glow where the irises should be. Their teeth were razor sharp and their skin was a sickly pale yellow, save the hole in their chest that housed a gem where the heart should be.
Idok grunted and let out a cry, which in turn riled up all the other oinks.
“This is bad. We were starting to turn the tide against the togastas, and now more numbers arrived. This is going to get really interesting,” Neo said as Bailey drew his blade.
The oinks flooded into the fray, armed with cutlasses drawn and began teaming up with the togastas, slowly overwhelming the alliance two to one in combat.
“Okay girls; keep sending the magic support! The army needs us more than ever now!” Mrs. Lors cried.
“More enemies?! More targets!” Jarl Bosvir roared as he smashed his battle hammer into the head of an evil oink. A group of togastas and dark oinks began to close in on the jarl, realizing him as a major threat.
A shadow overhead came down in a thump, as Duke Queras landed behind Jarl Bosvir, taking out a few of their enemies with a swipe of his naginata.
“It looked like you needed some help, so I jumped in your fight. Hopefully, you’re not upset about it,” Duke Queras teased.
Jarl Bosvir swung his hammer and caught an oink in the head, sending it flying, laughed and retorted, “I appreciate it, Queras! What say you we have a contest and take down as many as we can each?”
“You’re on, Bosvir!” Duke Queras replied as the two stood back to back and began fighting their way out of the group that threatened to overtake them.
The soldiers were sustaining casualties left and right, and Marcendes knew that the falling fighters would need medical aid. Thinking of the only thing that made sense to do, Marcendes reached into his beard and pulled out three eggs, the very same ones he found during his visit to Emberia.
Holding them up, the three eggs shined with a bright light and released three large birds: a giant robin, blue tit, and an osprey all hatched and flew out. The vanguard cautiously stood back as Marcendes said to the three large birds, “Carry the wounded to the back ranks where the medic tents are at!” The birds all confirmed with their respective noises and flew off to start scouting the battlefield for any friendly wounded of the alliance.
Marcendes moved with the vanguard for Demanonis and closed the gap before letting an ice spear fly. A sharp crystal of ice formed from a dust of frost in Marcendes’s hand and hurtled for the evil mage. Demanonis turned from his casting to see the spear flying for him and dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack.
Getting up, he said to Marcendes, “Well, you surprised me there, Marcendes. It seems like you made it well enough here. Shall we have a spellcaster duel?”
“Let’s,” Marcendes replied as he drew his wand. The vanguard promptly moved back and away from the two, letting the two mages have a go at each other.
Demanonis sent a ball of rippling darkness his way, which Marcendes warded off with a spell. Flicking his wrist to trace a triangle, a thin sheen of light appeared before Marcendes. Demanonis did the same as a transparent orange glow appeared in front of him.
Marcendes conjured another ice spear and sent the projectile flying for Demanonis, only to shatter against his ward.
Demanonis conjured up a ball of slime, not unlike what the witches of Cackle Crag were taught, except this one hissed and steamed. The ball of slime went flying for Marcendes and slammed against his ward. A droplet of slime splashed his sleeve and ate through the fabric, which Marcendes recognized as an acid slime spell.
The two casters engaged in a barrage of spells being cast at one another, neither side giving ground. For every spell one threw, the other either had a counter or let the ward do its work. Meanwhile, the vanguard had their hands busy keeping any evil oinks or togastas that came approaching the two during their duel.
A great gust suddenly tore through their ranks, blowing them off their feet as another figure made its way for the wizards. Looking up, one of the vanguard soldiers got a look at the person. It was a man with a bald head, blue eyes, and sharp features. He wore a black robe that seemed like it stole the light out of anything immediately around it.
The man sat atop one of the giant spiders, perched atop its head on a blackened throne, looking down on all that were on the battlefield as the soldiers cried out in shock at the sheer size of the spider. The spider carried the bald man away from most of the melee fighting and led him to the back ranks, which is where he got off and dismissed the spider. The giant arachnid departed and headed for the alliance, where a barrage of arrows and several pike men all felled the large creature.
One of the soldiers got to his feet and said to his men, “He’s going for Marcendes; we need to stop him!” Readying his spear, the soldier drove forth and went to drive his weapon through the mage’s back. The mage turned around and effortlessly blew him away with another gust, and the soldier sailed away and slammed into his own men. It wasn’t long until a group of togastas swarmed them and turned their focus on them while the mage walked toward the other two.
Marcendes saw Demanonis smile, his eyes darting to something behind him. He turned to see another mage, wand already out, with a transparent ball of wind heading his way. Marcendes couldn’t react in time and took the blow squarely, knocking him off his feet. Quick to recover, he rolled the impact out and popped up back to his feet, now assessing the new mage.
The bald mage smiled wickedly and joined Demanonis, then said in a cool, sharp voice, “Ah, the great mage of Llewellyn. It’s been ages since I’ve heard or even seen the likes of you.”
“Who are you?” Marcendes shot back, clearly in no mood for pleasantries.
“Settler, former high mage of Oldhollow. That is, until that old fool Harchand drove me away from my experiments making oinks more powerful.”
“The experiments of Oldhollow?” Marcendes said, his mind hooked on the detail that somehow rang familiar within him.
“Yes. A great curse ended up spreading throughout the city from the experiment going rather well, though it was stopped by another magic user, a witch,” Settler replied. “I believe she was trapped within a crystal orb sealing the curse away. A shame, considering she was a powerful witch.”
Marcendes’s blood ran hot at the mention of the event, realizing exactly who Settler was speaking of.
“You…you’re the one who led to the calamity. That witch was my wife!” Marcendes roared, fury quickly building within.
“Oh ho, I didn’t know that! Well, you can join her now,” Settler replied as he grinned wickedly at the good mage.
Marcendes began to quiver with undulated rage as a twisting wind of ice dust started to swirl around him. Forming two spheres of ice in his hands, he growled, “I usually make it a point to not kill people, for I believe in the good of them. However, we’re at war and you have no good within. I’ll make an exception here with you two.”
Harchand ducked under a flying evil oink and spider mount sent airborne from the impact of Duke Queras’s naginata and hurried to the area where Marcendes charged off to. Seeing the portal open behind the ranks, he knew only one mage was capable of such a feat. His old student, Settler had returned and had to be stopped.
Soldiers of the alliance took down three togastas, but for every enemy they dropped, another took its place. The soldiers were holding their own well, but the numbers were still quite the threat to contend with.
Harchand weaved through another skirmish of forces and blew some of the oinks off their spiders with a gust spell, giving aid to the soldiers he passed. The noises of screaming and weapons clashing was loud and made Harchand look twice as hard for his friend. Finally, heading to the rear ranks, there was his friend, battling both Demanonis and Settler.
“Damn them! I need to hurry and help him!” Harchand thought aloud as he picked up his pace to join Marcendes in battle.
Harchand saw Marcendes narrowly avoid a fireball spell, but the two on one disadvantage was quickly wearing down the mage as Harchand conjured an array of dazzling lights in front of the two evil mages and set the spell off.
The lights brilliantly exploded in their face, catching the two by surprise and forcing them to reflexively cover their eyes.
Harchand ran up to Marcendes as the mage said in surprise, “Harchand, what are you doing here?”
“Saving your rear from these two. Why don’t you take Demanonis and I’ll handle my old student?”
“No. I want Settler,” Marcendes replied, already conjuring an ice spear, and sending it flying for the disoriented mage.
The spear barely missed Settler, as he quickly ducked. He had just recovered some of his sight in time. Looking to Harchand, Settler grinned and said, “Ah, my old mentor. Come to save the mage of Llewellyn, hm?”
Harchand sighed and conjured a ball of blue flame to send at the two. The blue flame rolled forth and smashed against a ward as the pairs of mages now faced off against with one another.
Marcendes started heading for Settler as the black robed mage teased, “Ah, I see you’ve a score to settle with me. Very well, I’ll entertain you, lad.”
Demanonis turned to face Harchand, “I’ve heard of you, great mage of Emberia. Don’t disappoint me now.”
Harchand replied, “Don’t test an older mage in war. I’m old for a reason.”
The two immediately went to exchanging spells for a time, before realizing neither could break through the other’s ward. Demanonis and Harchand decided to switch things up and conjure forth a great collection of magic, then send it into the ground. Out from the earth, came up two beasts of sorts, made of grass, rock and soil. On Demanonis’s side, a seaworm formed from the conjuration. On Harchand’s side, a bear came up from the ground. The two then signaled for both of their conjurations to clash, which they immediately did.
Conjuring forms of magic from elements required more focus to control the creation, Harchand knew, which greatly diminished the chance of Demanonis trying to sling a spell at him while they had their beasts battle.
“Let’s see who’s mastered their conjurations more, old man!” Demanonis cried out.
“You’ll not defeat us here, whelp!” Harchand shot back as his bear tore into the seaworm.
Chapter
13 Victory and Defeat
Harchand watched in horror as his conjuration was destroyed by Demanonis’s after a grueling battle. His bear was not enough to stand up to the seaworm conjuration, and it wasn’t long until it began advancing on the old wizard himself.
Harchand began throwing various spells at the oncoming earthen seaworm, slamming fireballs, blades of ice, and howling winds at it, yet nothing seemed to affect the magical creature. It soon bore down upon the old mage and reared back at the midsection before quickly swinging around with all its might, slamming into Harchand, and knocking him off his feet.
The old mage gasped at the violent impact, the blow driving the wind from his lungs and sending him into the air. Another hit caught him helpless in the air and slammed him down to the ground, rendering the old mage unconscious.
Marcendes, seeing the event unfold, immediately rushed to go help Harchand. As he did, Settler rejoined with Demanonis as the two stared at the lone mage, going to help his friend.
“Harchand! Harchand!” Marcendes cried, trying to stir the old mage awake. Harchand, now bleeding from his forehead, remained motionless.
“Well, that’s a pity. Your ally is out of the fight. Seems like it’s just you now,” Settler taunted, his wicked blue eyes lighting up with malice. Marcendes turned to face the other and began casting the most potent spell he could muster. As it formed, a series of small spheres of darkness rose into the air above him, hovering ominously.
Marcendes continued focusing on the spell, but it was all too evident there was no escape from the spheres the two evil mages had cast. A second later, the spheres all shot down for the lone mage. An explosion of crackling violet bolts and dark miasma plumed into the air where the spheres came down at. When the miasma blew away from the wind, Marcendes was kneeling and breathing heavily. His regal orange robes were tattered and burns, and blood was all over him.