The wave of the Shimmer swept towards them like a relentless ocean. Jano and Gryff readied themselves. There had been no time to check on his brother. The Berserker Fire warriors who had been dealing with the massive creature turned their attacks on the oncomers, focussing on attacking from the air where possible. One by one, they began to land when their spirits were drained from the effort. Soon only Afan remained, a giant star of white hot fire in the sky. He was the midday sun, in a land otherwise deprived of light.
Gryff launched himself at the nearest foe, flames rippling out in fearsome rage. Jano preferred to keep what distance he could, but he was using much of the capacity of his spirit by summoning the stone spears technique over and over. He found it increasingly difficult to aim past the front of the defensive line to hit the enemy as they swept over the Molinians.
Up close, the Shimmer generally resembled one another. Some were taller and others wider, but they were similar in the main. They had different weapons, each pale and green and crafted from the same essence as themselves. They seemed a little different to those which swarmed him in the Palace of Qursa. ‘I wonder if they are reflections of their past selves.’ Jano couldn’t help but think. After all, they were creatures of death.
A Shimmer grabbed Jano. It must have gotten past the line of those before him. He panicked and at that moment he desperately wished for his scythe. He grabbed the Shimmer and was surprised when he made contact. It was as solid as he was. He didn’t stop to think that it had to be the case, as his attacks from channeling essence through his spirit were also very real. Instead he continued to panic.
He tried to toss the creature aside. Somewhere along the way it had lost its weapon and it was attempting to bite him, using now well hidden teeth that were as sharp as pointed rocks. The Shimmer didn’t move. Jano could have sworn he watched a thin smile grace the monsters lips, but dealing with the grimace which preceded the latest gnashing took precedence.
He dropped to his knees and felt the Shimmer fall over his back. It hadn’t had time to release its firm grip on him and so the unexpected movement through him to his backside. Scrambling in the mud, Jano felt the hilt of a sword. The hilt was flame red and streaked with blood. Without time to think, he plunged it into the neck of the creature and took a big step back.
He was out of breath and shaking. His fingertips trembled with adrenaline. The Shimmer squeaked out a protest. Jano felt his spirit strain as he called on another stone spear. If it was possible to concentrate his will with any more strength, he didn’t know it. It drummed into the enemy’s head and it collapsed. Lifeless once more. He looked desperately to the front of the defensive line. This was more for fear of another opponent than to assess where he was needed. He noticed some concern on the general demeanour of the enemy.
The few Chaos-Shapers who had made it to the battle lines began to shout at each other. Jano could even hear them against the ringing of the fighting. ‘It is strange that there are still so few of them. Can they be so fearsome warriors that they only thought a small contingent was enough?’ He thought as we watched them push their way to the very front.
They grouped together and with a tremendous effort a giant deep purple wall pushed up against the attackers. “Hold!” Jano could make out their words now. The wall deafening some of the general noise of the enemy. He wasn’t sure what chance they had of holding out against that many enemies. The wall rippled and shifted as the Shimmer tried to force their way through.
‘Boom. Boom. Boom’
Drums. The booming sound of a massive wall of drums filled Jano’s ears and drowned out the sound of the fighting entirely. The newly erected wall of essence vibrated with the noise. The sound grew louder and louder until Jano could see a large group of masked Chaos-Shapers marching through the hastily assembled defence forces. The purple wall was straining and faltering already. Small cracks appeared in several sections. Jano readied himself. He wasn’t sure if it were the drums or the enemy breaking the thing.
The others moved out of their way so fast that Jano was suddenly in awe, despite not knowing why. Dariea had given him the impression that the Chaos-Shapers were formidable, nowhere more so than when they were surrounded by the essence of their homeland. Jano noticed that the King was marching with them, straight into battle. He was chanting something over the top of the pounding drums.
He lowered his mask, which was vaguely similar to the others. A direct line to the front soon opened up and then the chanting and the pounding grew even louder. Jano hadn’t imagined that was even possible.
“Release the wall!” the King shouted.
The wall dropped and shadows burst forward from the Chaos-Shapers. Huge sweeping shadow attacks. They were ferocious black and violet techniques which lashed around the Shimmer. The technique pulled limb from limb. It crushed. It corrupted the Shimmer so completely that there were only fragments remaining. Still the drums pounded. The shadows burst through the first line of the enemy. Shattering the line. It was all encompassing. The light of the flame of the Berserker Fire clan was all but extinguished against the power of it.
After a moment of observation. This mammoth power rallied the original defenders of Molinia. Cries came from around Jano. “Now!” He heard Afan shout. Members of the Berserker Fire clan began to swarm around the shadows, lighting up the battlefield with white hot fire.
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Hell broke loose. As though animated by the brutal attacks, the enemy army started running at the battle lines of the allied Molinia clans. As they were made of death essence, they didn’t seem to care much if they lost a limb or even a chunk of their torso. Jano watched as a group of enemy assailants crashed into the line. Many of the Shimmer were still ablaze when they hit.
Projectiles of different essences were fired at the closer enemies. The attacks were smaller, more precise, so that they didn’t hit anyone still living. Jano was firing as many stone spears as he could manage. It was still his best attack and he instinctively drew on the stone essence, though he was able to retain his chaos shield. The Shifter clan were also arriving in numbers, as various fantastical creatures and massive troll like warriors laid into the enemy.
Gryff started firing large white hot arrows from where he stood as someone handed him a sword. He lurched forwards, trying to lend a hand to the front line. Jano joined him, carefully walking forward.
The Shimmer kept pushing forward, seemingly oblivious to the attacks on their bodies. It took a disproportionate amount of force to take them down. There was no longer a real front line, just a mixed bag of Molinia citizens and undead.
Jano kept firing his spears into any of the undead who managed to get anywhere near him. Gryff was just ahead, slicing and hacking away. Even though the essence was so plentiful, as stone so often was, Jano could feel his spirit sagging at the effort he had been forcing.
He backed away a little and rows of blue robes piled in the space he had been. It was only then that Jano noticed the rest of the Shifters barging their way into the fray, smashing into the enemy. These had only enhanced their original bodies. There was obviously intricate stages of development of their essence. Not everyone could simply turn themselves into a dragon.
A screeching noise assaulted Jano’s ears. As though someone were scratching two massive metal swords slowly down one another. He saw a woman, almost as tall as him, picking her way through the crowd. People let her through, like an ancient hero who had come to save the day. She wore dark robes, laced with white and red lace sequences throughout. A large chaos shield almost the size of the wall that tens of Chaos-Shapers had summoned dealt with a few stray green projectiles which crossed her path. Though Jano wasn’t entirely sure it was necessary, as a faint red glow appeared around her. Much like the one conjured by the Guard back home. The way she walked was familiar and as Jano clocked her dark brown hair, he realised it was Dariea.
With a sudden boost of energy, he tried to reach her. Those surrounding him were less enthusiastic to let him through, looking at him with an odd expression. Confusion summed it up. He forgot that they would likely be able to sense his weakness, even now amongst the fighting. Dariea had said that they could.
Still he pushed forward. Seeing a clear route through the army, he took his chance and ran towards her. The flickering green masses had fallen back into a line as she approached. Jano tried to seize her robes but she flashed him a look which utterly terrified him. Her eyes were deep red, with no white visible whatsoever. Her eyes lingered for a second and then she smiled, her brown hair raising as though propped up by tiny little sticks.
The air suddenly seemed thick and Zabar of the Chaos-Shapers appeared next to her, in his special war mask. Jano realised he was suddenly surrounded by the leaders of the remaining clans. They each looked as terrifying as the other. Jano knew he ought to move back, but he didn’t. It was like walking through a deep river bed as he got closer.
“Emperor Eradin. Your pathetic army does not belong here. You have had your fun. Now be gone from these lands. Failure to do so will result in open war between us.” the King of the Chaos-Shapers projected his voice so loud and so clearly, that Jano thought it had come from a giant lingering behind.
There was nothing but silence from the other side. Jano wasn’t sure if the Emperor was watching, but they wouldn’t have said the words for nothing.
A crash of thunder and a massive bolt of lightning came from above the green army. It was heading straight for the gathered army behind Jano. Dariea rose up into the air and tossed the attack to one side. As though it meant nothing. The red hue which surrounded her was darker now.
The ground began to open up in front of the Shimmer. At first, Jano thought it would be two giant cleaves of rock swallowing the army. To his surprise, it was nothing. It was darker than black and there was nothing for his eyes to see. He knew then what chaos truly looked like, the pit which existed everywhere and nowhere and from where the Chaos-Shapers drew their power.
The wind howled and cut through the opening lines, sweeping the uneven shapes of the death essence into the emptiness. Dariea, still afloat, forced a deep red blast of essence into the howling wind and it was carried further into the ranks of the opposing army. It wasn’t hot, like fire. It was deep red. It smelled vaguely metallic, but the attack ripped into the enemy and tore them apart. Jano’s stomach turned when he realised what the colour was. Blood.
The blast of energy started to morph into a thousand dragons, which started feasting on the undead like birds on carrion. Jano was astounded by the sheer display of power. He couldn’t help but wonder why Dariea hadn’t been able to do this against the Emperor. Tunnels of crashing white water began to sweep more of the undead into the chaos and behind that, white hot meteors began to pummel down.
The enemy army didn’t retreat, but it became clear that their forces were no match for the combined forces of Molinia. Soon enough cheers erupted around Jano and the great pit of darkness was closed. The Fire clan ran forward with their weapons eagerly raised to finish off the stragglers. The drums were still booming. It seemed to Jano that this could have been part of the festival.
He looked over toward the leaders who were now heading back through the rushing warriors. They looked satisfied, with smiles. Dariea however, looked haunted. Her eyes were still blood red, which even from a distance were visible. Her long brown hair returned to its normal place falling down her shoulders. But she did not seem jovial. Not even a little.
Gryff ran forward in the clearing to the husk of the creature which his people had so bravely defeated. “Rhys!” He shouted. “Brother!” Others from his clan joined him, searching through the wreckage.
Afan re-emerged, carrying a limp lifeless body. The leader was back to his normal hulking self. His white hair swept over his face. Gryff ran to his father.
A shrill, mournful cry swept over the otherwise victorious cheers.