I was going to die.
I was going to die.
I was going to die.
Upon the horizon, across the field, were the scarlet and gold rows of approximately a thousand Selphene knights standing shoulder to shoulder, blades in hand. Between their precisely lined ranks were serpent riders and Herculean soldiers on well-armored white and brown plumed griffins. Above, I counted at least three wyvern riders circling in the clouded sky as the suns began to rise beyond.
Beside me, however, were about a hundred or so hungry, magic deprived, old or inexperienced blood mages, standing shoulder to shoulder, backs against the knotted swampy treeline. There were also about twenty more blood mages who were able to make it from the southern camps in time to assist, and although they looked ready to fight, they seemed already exhausted from their long and hurried journey.
About a dozen or so void mages also arrived to assist, disheveled and skinny, and joined behind the ranks. Milea greeted them gratefully as they arrived, placened eyes stepping through the swampy mist in the early morning hours. I noticed that when they made their way to the rest of the gathered party of the underground, the blood mages seemed to avoid their eyes, keeping careful distance and voices hushed as they whispered warnings amongst one another.
Even as Aixel walked beside us, Milea leading the charge, they refused to look at him. But this behavior did not seem to come from any sort of malice, but fear. And when he ignored them in return, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of remorse for the void mage.
Before the morning fog cleared, before I could see the rest of the knights, I thought we might have a chance. But now.
But now.
I was going to die.
I was going to die.
I was going to die.
I looked to Milea, who stood beside me, posture straight, expression stoic, with filigreed silver helmet under her arm. I
“The scouts said two hundred knights. Yet this looks to be the entire Academy in front of us,” she said, jaw tight.
“They haven’t sent this many our way in decades,” added Ciro, shaking his head.
“A final extermination of the west Barrens,” said Aixel, who, much to my surprise, was smiling.
I couldn’t breathe. Never before had my armor felt so tight.
Milea had lent me one of her old helmets for the fight, and although I was grateful for the extra protection, I never before felt so exposed.
It was quiet, unsettlingly so, as the two parties stared at each other from the expanse of the golden fields before us, each waiting for the first move to be made. And with the trees behind us, we stood as cornered animals, awaiting death by the predator before us. Although Milea seemed calm from what I could tell, the makeshift knights beside me could not hide the fear in their eyes, though hidden behind beautiful armor.
Our party was a sight to behold, with silver and gold pieces stolen off of Selphene and Herculea knights of some distant age, mixed with the beautiful Milea crafted weapons in hand. They quietly talked between each other, with kind words of encouragement or parting goodbyes, I could not tell.
“Milea, do you remember Jeaywood?” said Ciro suddenly, gruff voice strangely soft.
“How could I forget?” said Milea, eyes not leaving the horizon.
“Back then… there were thousands of us. They wouldn’t even think to challenge the borders like this,” he shook his head, idly tracing the blade of his well sharpened weapon with an armored thumb.
“And we held those woods for years. For years we held those woods. People had raised families in the light of the sun. Unafraid,” spoke Milea.
A quiet moment passed as I watched the gentle wind sway the grass field before me. Tops of the field were hit with streams of morning light, and I could hear the birds high above in the trees begin their greeting songs.
“I thought… I thought I could leave,” said Ciro, voice quiet.
“I know.”
“I didn’t realize so many others would join me.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t think we would lose the woods… If I would have known they were coming, I would have-”
“Ciro!,” suddenly shouted Milea, turning towards him, eyes ablaze, “Spare me your regrets. They can wait until after we survive this. If we survive this.”
She was quiet for a moment, looking at the sky.
“Whether you like it or not, this is what we have to work with. They may not look like much, but these people will give their everything to keep this border safe,” Milea paused, looking at the somber faces around her. “If you’d like to run away again, then go. But I am willing to die on these fields if it keeps the underground safe for just one day… If it keeps the Barrens safe.”
Another heavy moment passed as Milea turned her eyes back towards the horizon. Ciro remained silent, twisting the handle of the halberd in his palm and staring into the distance, jaw tight. I looked up to see where he was staring to see the distant wyverns, circling like vultures.
I wanted to throw up.
The more I stared at the distant line of glittering helmets, stoic and precise in their line on the hillside, the more my heart seemed to pound in my head. I took off my helmet with sweaty palms, suddenly feeling claustrophobic, and felt the frantic compulsion to throw it, along with my weapon, and run back into the protection of trees.
Everything felt too tight, too hot, and I felt my breath begin to quicken as my heart thumped in my chest. The air seemed too thin, and no breath left me satisfied as my vision began to blur at the periphery.
How did I get here?
Was I ready to die?
Suddenly, something grabbed my hand, and as I turned to the side, I saw Aixel standing next to me. He was not looking at me, but straight ahead, towards the fields. He gave it a little squeeze, and I looked down to see his still-blackened fingertips - a reminder of the night before. Before I could say anything, he let go, removing his hand and crossing his arms over his chest, still silent.
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Suddenly, Milea stepped forward, then turned to face the group. The rising suns bloomed behind her, and her armor began to glow in its reflection. She waited, helmet in one hand, mace in the other, as her white eyes scanned the odd assortment in front of her. What little talk there was among the group ceased.
“Friends, family, allies, and defenders of the Barrens,” she began, voice loud and powerful, “Today… today is the first day of fall.”
She then smiled, and there were small pockets of nervous laughter throughout the soldiers.
“Today,” she continued, “Today is the first day of harvest… and those all throughout all of Midland will be celebrating, with a day filled with drink and merriment. A time where families gather, celebrating and dancing… enjoying each others company.”
She was walking now, slowly, pacing in front of the now silent group.
“How lucky are we to be gathered here, surrounded by our loved ones?” she smiled. “How very lucky are we? I see faces here… faces I have known for decades. Faces of those who I know would rather be no where else than to be fighting for our very home. Fighting for the Barrens.”
There was more laughter, and a yell of support from the back.
“So, my dear friends, it is time for us to harvest! It is time for us to feast! It is time for the Barrens to do what they do best!”
The crowd began to cheer, and shout with encouragement from behind me, rattling their weapons against their armor.
“Void mages, your first priority is helmets. The quicker we can remove their armor, the quicker we can get to their magic. We’re going to need to have everyone full up if anyone wants to make it out of here alive. After that - get creative,” she smiled wide.
“And for the rest of us, it’s time to show them what they’re so afraid of. For Herculea the betrayer, for Myrot the snake, for Selphena of carnage, and for the great Tumet, ever-wise who watches us from above as we are slaughtered,” Milea spat.
“For we… WE ARE DISCIPLES OF SOLIA, MOTHER OF MAGIC,” she shouted, and the ground seemed to shake as weapons were pounded into the dirt, screams and cheers echoing over the fields below.
Suddenly, there was a booming horn from inside the crowd, and I watched as Milea put on her helmet, mace in the air as she turned towards the enemy line. I took my queue and placed my own helmet back on my head. My breath felt hot against the close metal, and the muffled rallying cries around me made me feel as if I were in some sort of dream. I felt as though I was not within my own body, only watching the events before me as though through a window, safe and away from any real danger.
Upon the sound of the war horn, the Selphene knights raised their weapons in haunting unison, before, in one swift motion, each blade was pointed at our small party, arms outstretched and uniform across the golden valley. The wyverns seemed to take queue from this signal, and began to form a line above us, confirming position before imminent impact.
I watched then as Milea in turn lowered her mace, pointing it at the line of golden knights, as she shouted glorious warcry. The void mages, Aixel included, burst into their void-form clouds, and spiraled forward and low, hiding between the tall blades of grass. The blood mages began their charge, rushing from behind me and pushing past my paralyzed body in fervent berserk as they clashed their swords and shields against each other in rallying drum beats. Milea soon joined them, rushing down the small slope in valiant armor, as I watched in horror at the Selphene knights beginning their march.
They slowly made their way down the hill before me, with golden grass disappearing before their uniform steps. I turned to see what was left of the blood mages at the treeline, only to find myself standing alone.
Alone except Ciro.
His eyes met mine and he sighed. His foggy white eyes shone bright against the rising suns, even from behind his plain silver helmet.
“Are you ready?” he asked, “We can turn around now if you’d like. I don’t think anyone would notice. Suppose we could be lost beneath the tall grass for all they know.”
I turned to him, hand tight around the falchion at my side.
“I’m ready.”
Upon my words, the circling wyverns made their move, pulling distant wings close to their bodies and aiming like arrows to the fields below. As Ciro saw the great beasts begin their dive, he rushed forwards into the grass, faster than I had ever seen him go. I chased after him, unsure just how I’d be able to help against such a threat, with Ciro’s halberd parting the grass before us.
“ABOVE!” he shouted to the clamor of soldiers at the bottom of the hill, “LOOK UP! NOW!”
Thankfully, most seemed to hear his voice over their rallying call, as they immediately stopped, raising shields above their head and crouching into the high grass. The Selphene knights were still some distance away, free of any danger of the imminent impact, and I watched as their ranks also halted in wait.
As the three copper colored beasts approached, my sprint turned into a jog. If they continued at this speed and made impact, I might survive with this armor. However, if they decided to breathe their fiery breath during their descent, I wouldn’t stand a chance.
No sudden movements.
Lumo’s words suddenly echoed in my head. I froze where I stood, and watched the others around me do the same. Even when directed by the rider on their back, wyvern’s eyes tracked movement, making the aim of their silvery claws and teeth dependent on the nature of their prey. The best defense would be to remain still.
However, it didn’t take much precision to aim the plume of fire from their lungs. And when I looked up to see the approaching beasts begin to slow, great wings beating against the wind in staggering waves from above, I braced myself for the incoming heat.
But, as I watched them gather the morning air in their lungs, suspended as the grasses below moved in time with their leathery wings, black clouds began to plume around me. One, two, three, clouds of void mage spiraled upward towards the hovering beasts, until I saw one suddenly appear behind the rider, hands pulling on the sides of his helmet. The rider thrashed in protest, jerking the heavy chained reigns left and right, and causing the copper beast to scream in protest. Its haunting, piercing cry rattled me, even from under the protection of the helmet.
The other two riders seemed to notice the commotion, and jerked their reigns upwards and away from the approaching void-clouds, but it was too late for one. The void mage, shocking white hair still seen from my great distance, grabbed the rider’s helmet. He reached backwards with one hand and in the struggle, managed to drop the reigns of his bucking sky steed. He turned backwards, grabbing at the girl, trying to push her off, but she only grabbed him back. Before I knew it, they were both flying through the air above, white and silver entangled, fastly approaching the ground below.
But just before impact, the girl managed to pull the helmet of the shrieking soldier before she burst into her void form. I braced myself, not wanting to see the soldier hit the ground, when suddenly, I saw Ciro raise his hand in front of me. And, in an instant, the soldier was nothing but mist in the old man’s lungs.
Ciro then suddenly turned to me, eyes wild even from under the mask, and gave a huge grin as he shrugged off the large fur cloak off his shoulders. He was laughing, if not maniacally so. He then gave a rallying shout to the sky above, the others around him joining without hesitation.
From above, there was another, far more haunting scream as the first void mage was finally able to remove the soldier’s helmet, throwing it to the side and sending it through the air. The soldier scrambled to get away from the mage, and fell off the side of the great beast in his desperation. Through the chaos, his hands held firm to the wyvern’s reigns, leaving him to swing wildly above the blood mages below as the void mage worked to remove the saddle from the beast’s back. The wyvern then lowered it’s copper head, moving with the weight of the reigns, until the soldier’s feet were just above our heads.
A jumping gloved hand emerged from the sheltering and frozen soldiers, then another, until a young man was able to finally grab hold of the wyvernrider’s armored foot. And, with the added weight being too much to bear, he let go of the chained reigns.
Barely a moment passed before this Herculea knight was also gone, a fine mist of magic in someone’s lungs. This second win seemed to rally the blood mages even more, but the victory was only momentary.
There was a scream, then a cry, and another shriek of wyvern call as a mass of arrows soared through the sky, hitting both the newly freed beast and the unsuspecting void mage on his back. A moment of quiet passed as the soldiers looked upward, trying to understand. This soon turned to panicked cries as the beast began to fall, down, down, gaining speed on its approach before its devastating impact.
The ground rumbled as a cloud of dust exploded from the ground, and pieces of armor flew into the air of those who were unable to escape in time. But before we could recover, there was a haunting chant from above.
The Selphene knights had begun their march.