CHAPTER 54 - AXION’S CHARGE
Axion rode alone down the Epitaph Road from the mountains and wasted no time getting home. He pushed Huntross more than any horse he ever had, but the brazen colt did not relent. He even seemed to enjoy the challenge. Huntross’ hooves pounded the dirt trail that split off the road. There was a moment where it didn’t fully click for him. It’s amazing how hyper-focused he could get on something, the idea of going home stitched right into his mind. Soon enough, a combination of minor details like the faint smell of fire on the winds and turbulent skies completed with the smoke rising from the port city forced his attention elsewhere. They were under attack! Axion could not believe his eyes as he got closer and closer. Panic snuck its way in. Was he too late? Was he ready for this? Mitakahn knew this would happen, but what did he say in detail? Axion had no idea. He blocked his brother out like he did everything else. All that meant was he would be left to his own devices. The prince found the center of his nerve. The way was clear now.
Axion rushed past his hometown with no time to spare. He could see his mother at the top of the Citadel. The bells were ringing, reinforcements were gathering at the gatehouse. From the looks of it, his uncle and cousins were leading them. Right on schedule, how could he have any doubt? Any other time and he would be right there with them.
Axion shook his head in a symbolic gesture to break free of the spell love had on him. That time was over. He could not afford any further detour. Axion kept replaying his rationalizations over and over again in his head. He had been avoiding his return home because after King Theomitus died his world became so small all that existed was himself and the empty throne. Meeting Euphrati shattered that world in the greatest of ways, and he got lost in paradise, but the prince forgot to pick up all the pieces.
He forgot that people needed him, including his mother and brother. He prayed to the gods that he was not too late. His neglect had already cost him Mitakahn. All he could do was fight in his little brother’s place and rush to the aid of his people. Crown or not, armor or not, Axion would fight to his last breath to protect them.
Axion passed through the port city limits. He wasted no time once inside the city and made for the center of the storm, bypassing the stables and beaches while making haste through the downtown area. Amidst the smoke and screams there was a quiet fog of shadow rolling in through the streets of the harbor, giving off a foul smell of rotten glade sprouts. Axion turned north up the broad way towards seaport village. Retreating townsfolk nearly tossed him off his mount.
“Make for Zepathorum City!” he yelled.
He leaned down and into the turn. Once he cleared the bulk of the fleeing citizens, Axion pursued, without flinching, alone into the black midst as everyone else ran away from it. Soon the fog was so thick it looked as though he was in a different world, if not for the familiar cobblestones of the street. Perhaps it was more like being in the dark center of a storm cloud.
One lone soldier walking into the haunted darkness.
One warrior only to confront the impending doom.
He saw no ally. He saw no foe. He felt it all around him. By now, he was at the docks. He could hear his horse’s hooves against the wooden planks. Picture a world where all the colors of the spectrum blend into one inescapable darkness, one incurable unshakable haze.
Axion felt a sudden jerk. Huntross had stopped, but he did not. A dark warship came crashing into the docks before them. He lost sight of his steed and landed on the deck of the ship. Axion turned back to see if his horse was okay, but still the scene was obscured by black fog twisting and shifting all about. He looked around frantically for the blonde colt, his new loyal friend. Finally, the fog in front of him began to part and clear away enough to get a good look at the bay. He got back onto his feet and re-gripped his sword. The thunder clapped in the sky, rattling the wood he was standing on. Out of the clearing smoke, he looked at the sea and succumbed to a sight unlike anything he had ever seen.
The crooked lightning lit up the sky to reveal hundreds upon hundreds of black ships sailing towards him. Although it was still morning, some dark magic had the high clouds covering the sky, trying to eclipse the sun. To Axion, the vast armada of dark wooden ships turned the bay water to shadow. The sky opened up and rain poured upon the planks of the docks. A deep anxiety took a hold of Axion over the sheer number of incoming enemy ships.
The farthest were only visible as tiny dots on the horizon while the closest could be seen clear enough to reveal the sigil of an amethyst dragon painted on the black sail. A dormant fear awoke inside him from seeing something like that. A primal fear. For a soldier it simply meant one thing, they were incredibly outnumbered. Screams suddenly surrounded him. This shipwreck was not yet abandoned…
The dark pirates that came off the ship looked like they used to be men, but over time evil forces stripped them of their humanity. Their faces were warped and racked with torment. Known by different names, they were the damned from the Southlands, the remnants of the Dragon Kingdom, and commonly referred to as darksiders. Some more hideous than others, decorated with seared, almost burnt charcoal flesh patches of bruised scales riddling their bodies.
Their eyes were sickly with pale white irises. Their uniforms were dirty, torn up black and amethyst cloth underneath and plated with rusted grimetal armor. They wielded rusted scimitars and misshapen blades that looked like relics from the first age.
They attacked Axion one at a time, and he cut them down one at a time. They served no immediate threat for Prince Axion, a practiced warrior against mere pawns of the dark forces. A few more scrambled out of the wreckage, attacking in a far more chaotic manner. He parried one sword to block another, as he spun himself around, finishing off both foes. He picked up one of their fallen swords and threw it into another creature trying to escape.
Axion looked around, overwhelmed by the amount of darkness that infested his kingdom so suddenly. Axion turned back to be faced with twenty more blood-drunk pirates. Just then, the cabin above them cracked and crumbled on top of the darksiders. As the wooden avalanche collapsed on top of them, a plank from the roof provided a means for its catalyst to slide safely down to the deck. Axion smiled and wondered if there was any other horse quite like this.
Huntross trotted over to Axion, his horseshoes making a distinct noise against the wet southern wood planks, like a deaf clacking. Axion petted his faithful steed and remounted. They jumped down from the wreckage until they were back on the wounded dock. He now had a clear view of the harbor.
Countless ships crashed into the piers destroying everything in their path. Axion saw scattered Pride sailors trying to gather treasures and escape. Axion rode Huntross over to one of the ships.
“My friends, prepare for departure, we must meet them head on!”
“But, your highness, this is not a military vessel,” said one sailor.
“What is your name?”
“Longridge.”
“Longridge, our kingdom is on the brink of destruction…Will you not join me in doing whatever it takes to save what we cherish most?”
“…. Ay…sir…What are your orders?” responded Longridge.
“Get your ship assail! Pull in the planks and keep them ready by the sides of the ship.” Axion took command of the vessel.
Longridge gave his men Axion’s orders.
One of them rebuked, “But captain, we are just one ship against hundreds.”
“You heard our king, we do what must be done!”
Axion heard the words of Longridge and turned around to correct him, but before he could, an overwhelming sensation came upon him. He had caught a glimpse of the raw power that a king held over the spirits of his subjects. The exhilaration coursed through his chest. Axion grew brazen and eager for battle. The ship set sail, as the sailor said… one against hundreds. But Axion feared not. The oncoming current of enemy ships immediately consumed their ship.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
“Throw the boards, do what you can, then retreat!” yelled Axion as he kicked Huntross to cross the planks, now connecting their ship to the enemy.
Axion ran Huntross over to the dark deck, sword drawn and cut down the darksiders awaiting battle. He dismounted Huntross, as the mighty horse ran a quick circuit around the ship trampling all the foes on the deck. Axion killed any opponent unfortunate enough to get in his way and then found the ship’s wheel and turned it towards a collision course.
Axion whistled, quickly got back on the saddle, and awaited the crash. In a short moment, the dark ships came together in a splintery explosion along the colliding sides. Axion and Huntross anticipated the collision and leapt over to the next ship at precisely the right time and followed the same routine. They began to make waste of the standing legion waiting to be unleashed upon the shores. Axion steered the ship into another one as Huntross fought off the remaining sailors behind him with ample hind-leg kicks.
It was not long before the fleets became wise to their strategy. Spears and arrows began to rain down on them from all around. Axion feared for Huntross’ life. The ship they were on was rapidly sinking after the devastating blow it took from Axion’s previously appropriated ship. It was too difficult to steer. Water was seeping in through the cracks of the deck. Soon they would either drown or be downed by spears and arrows.
Axion’s brave strategy turned out to be rather short-sighted and not well formulated to say the least. The key feature he had forgotten… an escape plan. The ship was almost completely submerged, so Axion got back on Huntross, preparing to gallop across the shallow wreckage until they made it ashore, a desperate attempt at survival.
Before they capsized, a plank slammed onto the side of the ship behind Axion. It was Longridge and his crew. Two sailors, armed with bows, shot arrows at the surrounding ships, providing cover fire for Axion and Huntross. They boarded back on and Axion quickly said, “Make for the docks!”
The crew turned the ship towards the shore; in front of them, a catastrophe of smoldering wreckage, both ship and pier alike. Behind them, still a vast fleet of forthcoming warships.
Axion turned to Longridge and said, “Captain, what do you call this ship? Besides a blessing…”
“The Iditarod”
“If we make it through this day... The Iditarod is to be the flagship of the king’s new navy. What say you?”
“Ay, King. We, the crew of the Iditarod, are humbly yours.”
There it was again. The sting. The words danced right out of his mouth without him even noticing…the king’s new navy. It’s funny how ambiguous phrases can be without even trying. Axion fully meant his father, his father’s new navy, forgetting in the heat of the moment that he was dead. But the sailor just assumed Axion was referring to himself in the third person and it ended up working on different levels. But it was not like Axion to let it go.
“I am not king, Longridge. Not yet, at least…”
“You are today,” Captain Longridge unofficially ordained.
“Drop me off at the closest pier. Then find a safe place to store the ship. Set sail if you have to. Save as many as you can. Understood?”
“Ay, sir.”
“Good. You have done well this day. But you are more useful to us alive for whatever is to come next.”
Before Longridge could answer, a crewman interrupted, “Sir, there is only one pier in sight for a drop-off, and it is quickly approaching the starboard side.”
“Thank you, Fines. That is your cue, your highness.”
“You come find me when this is all over, Captain” bid Axion. If there is anything left…
“May the gods go with you, a soldier of the Pride, in ever-lasting glory,” replied Longridge.
Axion felt a quick hiccup in his heart. Something about what Longridge had just said got to him, but he did not know why. So instead, he concentrated on getting across to the pier and back to the shore. Huntross leapt off the boat and galloped down the wooden boards. Unexpectedly, the dark ship behind Axion crashed down upon them, almost forcing Huntross off the pier. He quickly rushed back to land, Southern wood clad in grimetal shattering the pier, twisting and ripping it to pieces. The explosion chased them. Axion yelled at Huntross to give his sprint all of his might, for the collapsing boards of the pier were nipping at the horse’s hooves.
The prince and his horse came hurtling up the pier as the splinter-filled tidal wave ate up everything behind them. Axion made it to where the docks met the streets, quickly followed by a hard hit in the back from the wave of wrecked warships, throwing him off his horse. When the broken water washed over him and pulled back into the sea to regroup, Axion found himself once again, horseless.
Axion got up, his head pounding. Every bone in his body ached. He looked around for his sword, his sight blurred by the pain. A royal shield washed by him, a bad omen for the city defenses. Axion stopped the shield with his foot and picked it up. He found his sword just a couple of paces forward. He could not worry about Huntross right now, as much as he wanted to, because Axion now found himself amidst a gathering army from the amethyst ships.
The evil soldiers were forming ranks and marching forward. Axion went unnoticed coming from behind them and cut them right up the middle. They were startled and scattered, breaking rank. Axion, after dividing their forces in half, found himself along the edge of the flank.
There, just above the sandy trenches that the dark army had dug out in between the ruined docks, a familiar line of troops marched towards him, engaging in battle. So far, his assault of the enemy had led him far enough south along the coastline to be at the beaches. Axion caught something out of the corner of his eye before he could make a run for it. Washed up ashore face down in the wet dunes lay Cipher Casterosi. In a fevered sprint, Axion rushed for Cipher. He cut down anyone who stood in his way. Axion cracked crudely through the armor of the attacking darksiders, dispatching of the enemies to save his comrade.
Axion’s sword stabbed the sand as he used both hands to turn Cipher over. The prince frantically searched for signs of life. He shook Cipher and called his name as sand splashed everywhere, begging him to snap out of it. Axion put his ear up close to his mouth. There was no breath. Axion pressed down on Cipher’s chest in succinct motions to get him to wake up. Axion was worried it was too late. That was when Cipher keeled over and coughed up seawater. Axion became flush with relief. He could exhale too. Unfortunately for them, there was no time to waste.
Axion slung the shield over his back, lifted Cipher up by the arm, threw that same arm over his shoulder, and jogged toward the frontline. He heard the clanking of dimwitted foes striking his shield, attempting to cut them down from behind. In the heat of the moment Axion wanted to turn around and show these cowards a true fight. Unfortunately, when it came down to it, half of warfare was making the right split decision, weighing factors with consequences. The ends always had to justify the means. Right now, that meant getting Cipher to safety and rallying their ranks. Axion pushed on, ignoring his foe and carried Cipher away from the shore.
They crossed the neutral zone, and Axion called out. The Caliber Militia quickly recognized their arrival and swarmed around him. Axion and Cipher were absorbed into the standing ranks of the Port Caliber Free Militia. In normal times, they were considered a volunteer branch of the Pride military, a tiny branch, more of a corner really, the reserves. Axion had experience training some of them. Good people, farmers, and merchants mostly, but stout-hearted and eager to learn. They understood the importance of being able to defend your home and family when no help was coming. Axion never thought he would see the day when they would be saving his life.
Axion handed Cipher off to a mediciner, unhinged his shield, and regrouped with his soldiers. The relief that came with support felt good, just knowing they were guarding their backs. He missed the feeling. It was now time for Axion to take up the mantle of commander once again. Thanks to his father, this would not be the first time he would be met with the challenge. Not many knew what it felt like to possess the ability to land a punch with the force of a battalion of troops behind it. Theomitus made sure Axion knew as future king.
Axion assessed his small force. “How did you get here?”
“Galastad rallied us here before taking the others to evacuate the city.”
Axion had an idea of what Galastad had in mind. He divided the militia into two groups: defending their stronghold and an offensive wave. Their allies were out there. All he had to do was connect the dots. The prince led the charge back towards the enemy front. He rushed forward, cutting down whatever evil that crossed paths with him. His concerns now turned towards looking for Anilithyìstad, which to him only meant one thing. Taking the fight back into the harbor district.
“Uncle! Uncle Anilithyìstad!” the prince screamed over the rain as he saw no sign of the Metuchen knight.
More and more ships were crashing into the docks as the battle raged on in the streets. The harbor district was decimated. They had no regard for harming their own boats. The sheer number of ships invading. No, they were not here to just invade but to conquer. It was impossible, the bombardment was merciless, and the fleet was endless. If they were not careful…this could mean the extinction of the Pride. In the eye of this raging battle, Axion had to get a fresh breath; he had to find his uncle. Even if they were fully prepared for this battle there would be no certain victory.
From the right side of the battlefield came an unnatural current, throwing dark troops left and right. The tremble was heading straight for Axion. It looked enormous. Whatever monster this was, it targeted Axion. Axion took an apprehensive step backwards, but then decided to confront this powerful beast head-to-head. His own lines broke before engaging and he could see what was coming for him. It was Huntross. The horse had found him. Axion’s heart lifted. He got back on his trusted steed, and looked around, now at a better vantage point, for his uncle.