The first defence line in Erlenberg was formed from a series of barricades and fortified houses in the Northern Ward. The city had six Wards in total. There were the three directional wards, the Northern, Western, and Southern Wards, which all had their separate specialties, marketplaces and residential spaces. Stretching up the eastern bank of Erlenberg and bordering the harbour was the Harbour Ward where the ships were located. It also included Golden Street where the Houses of Light were. Close to the centre of Erlenberg, was the Merchant’s Ward where most of the wealthiest families of Erlenberg had their houses. Just south of that was the Books and Games Ward, which was where the Erlenberg Stadium was located, along with the Great Library.

As the Lightning Battalion marched to their staging area, the Northern Ward’s marketplace, they found the streets strangely deserted. This was because the Northern Ward had been evacuated in the face of the attack. Most of the residents were on ships or on the road to Erisdale, and those who hadn’t left yet were temporarily living in the Tawantinsuyu Stadium.

Those who hadn’t left were working on more interior defensive lines. The battalion passed a few of these. Walls with ditches, gateways shaped into an L to force attackers to turn, canals redirected into channels to create moats, and mansions turned into forts. These were crawling with people.

In contrast the marketplace was a ghostly sight, with its stalls and shops boarded up, closed, or just left to stand in the street. The marble water fountain in the middle of the square still ran, but where it used to be surrounded by people chatting or going about their daily business, it was not deserted.

On the plus side, there was plenty of space for their soldiers to rest and the water fountain provided a good place to water their horses.

“I just thought of something… Why didn’t we actually hold onto the breaches at the walls?” Ginger asked. She glanced at the teens, “They would have served as perfect chokepoints.”

Ayax grimaced. “I talked to dad about that last night. He said that while holding the walls would have been preferable, the Alavari brought about thirty artillery pieces.”

“Excuse me what? How do they have that many? Their cannons aren’t as good as ours!” Martin squawked.

“They’re not. Dad said most are of… “hooped” construction instead of “single-cast” make. It seems they are working on waves of mass-produced cannon,” said Ayax.

“That’s worrying, we Otherworlders told the Human Kingdoms about how we made our cannons. Not that we really understood how,” said Elizabeth.

Frances grimaced. “I think that it would make sense that the Alavari have spies in the Human Kingdoms, especially with what we’ve experienced.”

“That makes an annoying bit of sense.” Martin blinked as his eyes narrowed on the opposite side of the marketplace. “Hello, what’s this?”

Another battalion sized unit was marching into the market square in perfect marching formation, the soldiers stepping in time. They wore Erlenberg blue and grey uniforms along with their armour and arms which glinted in the morning light. They carried not one, but two standards, one with the City of Erlenberg’s sigil and the other, a highly elaborate flag featuring an osprey carrying a sword on a grey field.

It was quite the sight, and the teens were content to just watch the procession as they began to disperse across the other side of the marketplace.

Out of nowhere, Ayax, who’d been at that point, charged off, almost flipping the empty market stall she’d been leaning against. The teens’ weapons were out in an instant, eyes tracking the troll.

The troll was barrelling towards what had looked like a civil conversation between some Lightning Battalion soldiers and the newly arrived battalion’s members. Frances could see, though, that the men and women on both sides were tensing up, their voices rising and one or two had even reached for their weapons.

“What’s going on?” Ayax demanded.

“You’re an officer? Tell these ruffians and deserters to get out of our staging area,” snapped a dark-skinned human woman that had to be an officer of the newly arrived battalion. Her armor was actually engraved with what looked like gold, indicating a degree of wealth. More of this woman’s officers, a mixture of humans and Alavari, were filing behind them.

Elizabeth strode forward about to cut in and introduce herself. Frances grabbed her friend’s shoulder and whispered. “Wait. I think we should see how Ayax handles it.”

“Are you sure?” Elizabeth whispered glancing back at the troll.

Frances nodded, mirroring Martin and Ginger’s nods. Still, the group didn’t stay far from Ayax and their soldiers noticed this. They glared back at the new arrivals but restrained themselves.

Ayax uncrossed her arms, but didn’t extend her hand. “I’m company commander Ayax Windwhistler, the Lightning Battalion’s 3rd Company Commander. You are?”

“Major Lu-Anne Antoine, 7th Battalion, Erlenberg Army. I mean no offence Lady Windwhistler, but these deserters and convicts are in my staging area. Can you speak to your commander and move them somewhere else?” Lu-Anne asked, courteously.

“My father, Alexander Windwhistler née Foehammer, assigned our battalion here. I do believe square’s large enough for our battalions to share,” said Ayax, leaning against her mage’s staff.

Lu-Anne narrowed her eyes at Ayax. “Alright, though, and please do not take this personally, I wonder how you trust these blackguards to obey your commands if they are in… this state.”

Ayax narrowed her eyes. “But you do offend me, Major. My company and our battalion won the first victories for Erlenberg in this war when we sabotaged the Pinewoods Road and held up General Antigones’s advance for days. I respectfully advise you to temper your words.”

“You… you and a group of deserters and convicts?” squawked one of Lu-Anne’s officers. To her credit, Lu-Anne glared at the officer and opened her mouth to rebuke him.

She was beaten by a furious Elizabeth storming forward. Frances hadn’t been able to grab her back. She’d never seen her best friend so angry. The tall Otherworlder hadn’t drawn her weapon, but she’d stormed up toward the confrontation and ripped her gauntlet off.

“Right! I’m Elizabeth Kim, one of the Otherworlders and Commander of the Lightning Battalion. These men saved my life and I will duel the next person to insult my battalion!”

“I, Sir Martin of Conthwaite, Knight of Erisdale and the Lightning Battalion’s 2nd Company commander second that,” Martin hissed, stalking in beside Elizabeth, much to Frances’s shock. At least that silenced the Erlenberg Army soldiers, who seemed just as surprised.

Frances, muttering to herself, took a deep breath and walked forward. “Look, our blood is up because we’re ready for a fight. Let’s just calm down and talk this out like civilized people who are fighting the same enemy.”

“An excellent idea, miss?” Lu-Anne asked, smiling.

“Frances Windwhistler, daughter of Edana Firehand and Otherworlder,” said Frances, curtseying.

Yet, Lu-Anne’s smile abruptly faded and one of her officers muttered, “Oh, not another adopted ‘citizen.’”

Frances pinched the bridge of her nose and Lu-Anne shushed her officer. “Okay what is your problem? We’re on the same side.”

“Well, it is a complicated situation, miss Windwhistler,” said Lu-Anne, sounding almost embarrassed.

“It’s because our soldiers are either not of Erlenberg, or probably because most of the battalion was made up of people who escaped from the Grand Army after it was defeated at Aijin plains,” Ayax snapped. The troll shook her head. “Look let’s just stay out of each other’s way.”

Lu-Anne held up a hand to quiet one of her officers and nodded. “For the sake of unity, I agree with you.” She paused. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” said Elizabeth, her tone curt. She stormed away, and the teens and the Lightning Battalion’s soldiers followed them.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

When Elizabeth seemed satisfied that they were far enough, she turned to her soldiers.

“If someone insults you like that, you fetch me, or one of your senior commanders. You do not attempt to resolve it on your own unless they leave you no choice, is that understood?”

“Crystal ma’am!” snapped the soldiers, some wearing smiles.

“Now, let’s hope they remember it,” Elizabeth muttered as the soldiers dispersed.

“I think most will. Command suits you, Elizabeth,” said Martin.

“Really?”

“Yeah, kid. You’re better than some people twice your age,” said Ginger. She smirked briefly before she sauntered off to her company.

“I hope she keeps thinking that,” muttered Elizabeth.

Frances blinked. “Liz, are you—”

“I’m fine. Ignore what I said,” said the girl. She walked away, though, Frances knew there was nothing for Elizabeth to do in the direction she was going.

After a moment’s thought, Frances glanced at her cousin. “Ayax can you—”

“On it,” said Ayax, running after Elizabeth.

“Thanks!” said Frances.

“Are those two finally getting together?” Martin mused.

“I think so,” said Frances. She managed a smile, pushing her worries about her loneliness to the bottom. “Ayax is good for Liz.”

“Yes. Though, it doesn’t mean we won’t be important to Elizabeth, Frances,” said Martin.

The knight had a knowing look on his face and Frances stared at her friend. “Did… how…”

“Ayax mentioned the prank that the soldiers pulled on you, and well, I’ve been noticing we’ve not spent a lot of time together recently.” Martin pursed his lips. “That and um, I suspected that’s why you visited the House of Light. How was it?”

“It was nice. A very sweet lady talked me through some of my feelings. She’s being let go, though. I did offer her a job. But well, we’ll have to see,” said Frances, sighing.

“That’s good. I’m glad you found someone to talk to. It’s sad that she’s not available anymore, but I’m happy for you,” said Martin. He scratched his head. “I’ve been doing that a lot with Ginger.”

“I’m glad for you, too. I’m a little jealous, but, I’m really happy that you’re so happy,” said Frances.

Martin blushed. The knight grinning broadly, but Frances could see there was a hesitation to his expression.

“Martin? Is something wrong?”

“It’s just… it seems all very fast and well.” Martin’s eyes flicked towards Ginger, who was explaining something to her company before he turned back to Frances. “I… I feel that I might want something more permanent than what we have.”

“I don’t understand. I thought that would be a good thing,” said Frances.

The knight nodded. “I think it would be, but Frances, Ginger’s a commoner and a convict. I know my mother, Rachel, would be fine with it, but I don’t think my mother Esther would like Ginger at all.”

Frances frowned. “But don’t they want you to be happy? Your moms love you, don’t they?”

“Yes, but… well, the people who love us want to protect us in the way they know how, and my mother Esther thinks that would mean me marrying well, or having a partner who is socially acceptable. Not a brash commoner convict,” Martin stammered.

Frances studied her friend’s face and felt herself nod in realization. “You truly are in love with her, Martin, aren’t you?”

The knight froze. His eyes only for the red-headed woman in the distance. “I… I think so, and it scares me.”

“I think it probably scares Ginger too, Martin,” said Frances. She took Martin’s gauntleted hand and squeezed it. “Whatever happens, I promise I’ll support you.”

Martin squeezed back. “Same for you.”

----------------------------------------

31st Erlenberg Army Battalion, First Defense Line...

A month ago, San was a goblin butcher’s apprentice until he’d volunteered for the Erlenberg Army. He’d been bored of the drills, the hours of marching and all the time they spent stabbing at sandbags with pikes.

He wasn’t bored any longer.

Under a hail of musket fire, the Alavari had charged up Northcross Road, which San’s regiment was defending. The 31st had felled many, but the sheer numbers of the Alavari meant they’d reached their barricade. For a moment, San and his comrades had held their position, but the sheer weight of the Alavari forced them back.

The 31st’s commander had died some time ago. To San’s dismay, he’d seen several of his fellow soldiers fleeing. He wanted to join them, but…

“Where are our reinforcements?” San’s sergeant yelled. San had never heard sergeant Renlan sound so panicked. The short human woman was normally so calm. He supposed the wall of Alavari that they were fighting was responsible. He didn’t know how, but once the enemy had seized the barricade, they’d formed into a column of spears and polearms that was now pushing their battalion back.

Sergeant Renlan had somehow managed to rally the remnants of their battalion back and they’d launched several attacks at this mass of troops, every time they’d been repulsed.

“They’re not coming, we need to run!” a soldier screamed.

“Don’t you fucking dare! We can’t let this street fall! They’ll be onto our families if they do!” Renlan cried out.

San swallowed and hefted his pike. “Come on!” he yelled, sounding more confident than he felt. The dead of both sides scattered on the street. However, the Alavari were the ones advancing, whilst the Erlenbergians were retreating.

That was when they all heard a song.

It was probably the most beautiful thing that San had heard on this day of muskets firing, pikes clashing, and the screams of the dying. It was raw, primal and yet there was a serene elegance to the sound. He had no idea why someone would be singing in the middle of the battlefield, but he couldn’t help but pause at it.

Someone was bellowing at the 31st, and he turned around to find a female troll in plate armour, holding a mage’s staff. She was pushing soldiers of the 31st out of the way as new, fresh soldiers ran behind her.

“Make way! We’re coming through!” she bellowed.

San stepped aside, eyes wide. The troll was followed by Erlenberg soldiers, ranging from humans, orcs, ogres, goblins and trolls. None of their gear was particularly well-polished, but they were all armoured and well-armed with pikes, muskets and swords. Their banner was a white banner with a blue lightning bolt streaked across it.

“Oi! Who’s commanding?” yelled a red-headed woman in a cheap-looking cuirass.

“Sergeant Renlan,” stammered San, pointing at his frowning sergeant.

“Private San you—Argh, yes, I’m commanding. Major Jasnark was killed and I have no clue where’s his second. Who the hell are you?” demanded Renlan.

“It doesn’t matter who we are, can you support our counterattack?” snapped the red-head.

“It isn’t going to work—”

The redhead pointed at her troops. “We have a mage, can you support our attack?”

San followed the redhead’s finger to who he realized was the source of the singing. A short, brown-haired teen on a horse, carrying a glowing wand. Sparks crackled around her as the tempo of her song increased and built to a higher and higher pitch.

“Yes, what’s your plan?” Renlan asked.

“Cover your eyes and follow us!” the redhead shouted suddenly, hand over her eyes.

Suddenly, the mage, who San suddenly realized, was Frances Windwhistler, the Winter Tournament semifinalist spoke one final note.

A thunderclap in the confines of the street deafened every person nearby and San was blinded by the white flash of lightning. Before he could blink the spots away, he heard a battle cry from the newly arrived battalion.

“Lightning Battalion, charge!” the redheaded woman ordered.

The new arrivals were barreling down the street and San realized that he hadn’t been seeing things. A bolt of lightning had struck the enemy troops in the street and their formidable wall of pikes and shields was now a scattered mess of burned corpses, or fitfully writhing Alavari.

Seconds later, the new battalion smashed into the broken Alavari. Before San’s eyes, the Alavari regiment the 31st had been repulsed by just routed.

“Go after them! 31st charge!” Renlan bellowed.

San hefted his pike and charge, screaming as he followed the mass of humans and Alavari forward. Before he knew it, he was back at the barricade clambering up the piled-up earth and wooden planks that it was composed of.

He reached the top and his eyes widened.

The new arrivals had leapt over the barricade and were fighting an entire Alavari regiment in the confines of Northcross Street. Alavari were being forced back, but the new arrivals were fighting with their back to the barricade. They were also terribly outnumbered by what looked like a sea of orcs, trolls and ogres.

San was about to leap down to follow the lightning standard, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Wait! We need to withdraw! You’ll be cut off!”

San turned to Renlan and realized she was yelling at the mage Frances. Yet, the brunette, her amber eyes narrowed, didn’t stop singing. Frances merely threw more blasts of magic to take out Alavari musketeers and clumps of reinforcements.

The troll mage that had been leading the column joined them, and San suddenly realized that she was Ayax Windwhistler, the Winter Tournament’s finalist. Raising her staff, Ayax roared a Word of Power and sent a bolt of magic that lanced toward the enemy standard. The bolt smashed into the standard-bearer and exploded, taking the unfortunate orc out along with several of his fellows.

“Don’t worry, we won’t be surrounded for long!” exclaimed Ayax.

San was momentarily confused until he heard hoofbeats. He looked up and gasped.

From behind the Alavari regiment were a hundred cavalry, weapons drawn. They were led by two armoured figures, one with a war hammer, the other with a sword.

The cavalry only numbered a hundred compared to the hundreds of the Alavari regiment, but they were hitting the Alavari from the rear. Before their charge hit home, they fired pistols and carbines, before smashing right into the enemy.

It was like watching a ripple across the water. The Alavari regiment roiled in chaos. Hit from the front, hit again from the rear, they didn’t know where to turn.

Then, the friendly cavalry turned around and galloped off. It was immediately followed by a second lightning spell from the diminutive brown-haired mage. This bolt of lightning smashed into the thick of the enemy regiment. As more orcs and ogres fell to the ground or were blasted high into the air, the enemy regiment broke and fled.

They left what had to be hundreds of groaning wounded and dead in Northcross street. San stared at the sight, the pike gripped in his numb hands.

“Please, get the wounded to the rear! I think we’ll be needed elsewhere. Hurry!” Frances ordered in a fairly soft-spoken tone, but her battalion followed her and was clambering back over the barricade, with San and the 31st’s help.

“Thank you,” Renlan stammered to Frances and Ayax as they remounted their horses.

“You’re welcome,” said Frances, smiling.

“Good luck. More reinforcements will arrive here soon, hold fast,” added Ayax.

And as suddenly as the new arrivals had arrived, they were gone. They’d even taken their wounded.

“Who… who were they? I saw Ayax and Frances Windwhistler from the Winter Tournament, but… what was that?” Renlan spluttered.

“I heard them call themselves, the Lightning Battalion,” San stammered.

“They certainly struck like lightning,” said Renlan. She grinned. “Gods of Sea and Sand, with them on our side, we might have a chance at this.”

San couldn’t help but agree with his sergeant. If Erlenberg had defenders like the Lightning Battalion, then maybe, their city would be safe.