The day’s progression was near at an end, but the fresh additions to the ranks were just beginning to demonstrate their worth. The task had been simple; an even number of the Legions on opposite ends, each with two of the recruits on the offensive. The objective was to capture the other team’s banner guarded each at opposite ends of the playing field. Though what is trial without consequence.
Each participant in the exercise had a handful of unripe mulberries in both hands respectively. To crush them, would release the white sap, disqualifying the beholder temporarily, forcing them to retreat to their home banner and restock fresh ones from the bowl. While the sap seeps into the pores of their foolhardy victims.
Both teams had streaked both armors, faces alike with oil pastels in differentiation from the other. One in crimson, one in charcoal. That of the Andescion Legions’ banner itself.
Daven Croxron stood in full armor save for his helm, overlooking the exercise from a ridge at a cliffside. The surrounding redwood sentinels watched silently in the small clearing they had found, while down below a dozen Legions on each end awaited his signal to engage in the next round.
At the peak of silence, Daven raised his fist, promptly unleashing both ends to sprint at the other. By the time the Legions approached the center from both sides, the veterans held back to maintain the defensive. After all, this is synergy for our new ones to obtain.
Ellec Skygazer and Clydas Windborne burst down the middle from the crimson team into enemy territory, while Ovaria and Allia Moxe of the charcoal banner’s team took opposite outreached sides of the field in synchronized pace.
The first of the defense came after Clydas and Ellec. Clydas narrowly escaped a knee to the ribcage while Ellec managed to duck under a forearm to the face. Both caught their steps, pushing deeper down the middle.
Ovaria engaged her first target head on, for the moment the defender came in for the slide tackle, she sidestepped out of it at the last second. Before the defender could regain his feet, Ovaria pressed an anchor foot to the ground, sprinting out of the sideline, down towards the deeper middle of the crimson banner’s defense.
Simultaneously, Allia took her own target head on, baiting the defender’s lash of a forearm. Off the opposite sideline she too bolted down towards the center. Both sisters racing closer together in unison from conjoining paths.
Clydas and Ellec worked their next two targets together, while the first defender tried taking both head on - stiff arming for the throats on either side. Clydas dodged, Ellec reversed at the last second, kicking the defender’s calf from behind, forcing the defender to his knees.
The other defender went straight for Clydas, broad shouldering him in the chest, almost knocking Clydas off his feet. While Clydas stood stunned, the defender continued barreling towards him for a second strike.
By the touch of haste, Clydas leapt backwards, allowing enough room to slide past the looming defender. With the flag in near site the two recruits broke back into full sprint, with the surrounding defenders continuing an intercepting pursuit.
Three defenders blocked the approaching sisters on their colliding path. Without so much a glance at Allia, Ovaria took a deep breath, swung her right arm back, proceeding to high-kick the closest defender in the chest. The impact brought the defender to recoil, allowing her to follow-up, she used her left forearm to knock the defender down.
Allia at the same time dodged her approaching defender, slide-tackling the middle defender as Ovaria closed in, shouldering him down to the ground. Allia stepped on his back when he tried to recover, and the two sisters ran parallel down to the flag. Naturally Ovaria and Allia would work together flawlessly.
The fallen defender lay there for a moment, stumbling while he attempted to stand. Like a slow falling tree, he fell back on his rear, revealing the white sap all over his open palms. The other two defeated defenders attempted to run back to the bowl for new mulberries, making for a drunken display. The mulberry sap slowly takes its toll on even the most hardened of soldiers.
The defense was closing in on Clydas and Ellec, but the charcoaled banner guard was a tank of a man and did not charge them like the others had done. Clydas attempted to circle behind him while Ellec approached head on. Come on Ellec.
The banner guard managed to grab Clydas by the shoulder, hurling him backwards off his feet, while narrowly missing Ellec’s pauldron with his other arm. Ellec released the mulberries from one hand, sweeping the banner’s rod from its confinements, spinning past each blow the banner guard had in store for him.
Ellec made to sprint back down the middle, but the other defenders had made no room for him to escape through. He looked for Clydas over his shoulder. “Take the banner ‘round the back of them, quickly.”
Clydas was attempting to keep himself upright, precariously watching his hands move through the air. Ellec stood in disbelief, the white sap dripping off Clydas’ fingers. By the time Ellec turned back around to push through, one of the defenses had checked him across the chest, knocking banner and mulberries loose from his grip.
Ovaria and Allia faced the crimson banner guard of similar stature. Neither made any hesitation to engage him. Allia circled just as Clydas had, but before the guard could grab her, Ovaria circled opposite behind, knocking his free arm backwards, disrupting his balance.
In the moment of his discord, Allia hastily tossed her mulberries to rescue the banner. The banner guard went to bash her legs out from under her, but Ovaria took the foreseen blow, sending her tumbling two meters back.
Allia swung the banner at the guard’s helm, staggering him backwards, while Ovaria regained her footing on half-opened fists. She managed to cradle the berries despite the tumble, quite well done.
Ovaria wasted no time and took the banner guard head on, while Allia flanked her. The guard attempted to push past Ovaria to grab Allia again, but fell short in consequence of Ovaria’s momentum driving into his back.
The two fell in sync almost immediately. Ovaria charged the middle ring of surrounding defense with Allia right on her tail. Ovaria made to fully engage the closest defender, but at the last moment fell to her knees, crouching over, allowing Allia to push off her back and jump over the ring of defense.
Allia made the jump, home free with a direct line to her home turf. Almost. The defender under her whipped around lightning fast, grabbing hold of her boot, pulling her to the ground. Allia smashed into the ground. The banner residing tightly in one grip, the white sap leaking out of the other.
Daven rose his fist to the air, bringing the exercise to a halt. He then began the descent down from the ridge, onto the battlefield, while the Legions gathered around the dazed.
Clydas and Ellec stood sweat soaked, heavily breathing. Clydas stood equally tall as Ellec, with skin nearly darker than his hair, pulled back in dreads that fell to his steal pauldrons. In the light he would almost look russet, especially now with streaks of sweat consuming him.
Upon approaching the center circle of the field, Daven could see the white haze still consuming Clydas’ eyes, consequence of failure to the task. Ellec however, had not crushed his mulberries, rendering him free of the hallucinations that came with the unripe sap. Allia was under the same spell.
Allia was almost completely upright, wrapped neck to boot in light steels and thick leathers. She wore a dust mask across the lower half of her face, and her hair matched with a carob brown. Ovaria stood in front of her snapping her fingers in front of her sister’s eyes.
Ovaria stood a little taller, a little leaner. She bore slightly less steel than Allia, wrapping herself mostly in thick leathers like her sister. It wasn’t the armor she donned that made her a threat to an enemy, nor the dual short swords made for her at the forge. It wasn’t the toned muscle she used to dropkick one of my soldiers either. It was the ravage look of determination in her eyes. That of a predator stalking prey, and at this very moment, protecting its kin.
“Fresh unripe mulberries release a white sap to protect themselves from birds feasting upon them while they grow. As you all see here today, it can be quite effective at disorienting your enemy.” Daven paced while the Legions all drew their attention to him at once.
Daven motioned to the four recruits, “You may notice our veteran Legions are not short of breath, despite donning full steal.”
All four of the recruits searched amongst the ranks for a fatigued soldier. Even the defenders who absorbed the white sap were not anywhere near exhaustion. Covered in dirt some yes, but all had recovered from the sap’s effects. Daven smiled.
“This is something you will learn to harness in your training. Your breath equally important to each stroke of your sword. You will learn to control it in the heat of battle, binding your eneryia to proper ‘sruth.’ Using the eneryia you hold within, controlling your sruth will allow both armor, weapons to feel seemingly weightless.”
Daven glanced over to the defender that pulled Allia from her path. “The stronger your sruth, the faster you can maneuver with ease and haste. A longsword obtains the swiftness of a dagger.”
Allia did not miss a beat, “Is that what gave him that agility?” Her eyes had returned to normalcy, curiosity coating the tone of her voice.
The defender rose from his kneed stance, taking a stand beside Daven. “Heightened bursts of agility are a beast all in themselves. Honing your sruth is the first step on your journey to achieving such feats.”
Daven continued, “Along with the synergy to move, act as one.” He gestured to Allia and Ovaria. “Just like the Moxe sisters move in unified step, the Legions must operate in the same fashion.”
Daven’s voice grew more powerful. “You each may have individual strength, but together you will learn to be unbreakable.” Daven gazed into nothingness, for Oblivion will be unrelenting.
After a moment, Daven’s attention returned to the defender beside him, then he sternly approached the recruits. “Under less demanding circumstances your training would encompass multiple cycles, allowing for sufficient time of mastery of each skill before learning another.”
Daven searched the ground for some of the discarded mulberries, beginning to pick them up one by one. His words became cryptic. “But where we are headed, time is of the essence. Your training must be accelerated.”
He pulled loose his gloved hand, letting the mulberries sit in his open palm. “We are journeying to where the dead are quite alive. Where monstrous beasts roam free of fear from all but the wisps that conjured them.”
The Reaver slowly crushed the mulberries in his fist, his eyes became cloudy, but his stare was kept transfixed upon the four recruits in turn. “We are going to retrieve Eneryia’s Kiss from the source. Where our guardian now resides. We shall give her reason to come home once more. There is no room for failure.”
The defender that stood beside The Reaver took up the call. “You shall not be left wanting for guidance. This is where our first preceptor comes into play.”
Daven’s gaze returned to the gathered Legions while the defender continued. “To lead your trainings, you will begin with Genna Ullenbow, who will prepare your path in sruth mastery.” Genna strode to the forefront of the group, taking her place beside the defender.
Her hair fell long, straight in a sandy brown complexion that complimented her fair skin. She had more height than the average Legion, with an equal amount of tone. What she lacked in brute strength she exhaled back with both ferocity, authority. A command that will whip these four into shape in no time.
She judged the four in succession, “If you are to survive this cycle, you will obey my every word without hesitation.” She cocked half a smile. “So, if you are to survive, we begin tomorrow at first dawn’s light.”
Daven continued, “Once you have a firm grasp of your sruth, you will be ready for your next preceptor, Jaren Olsewood.”
A man with twice the build of Genna came forth from the group and stood beside her to face the recruits. His voice however was lighter than the weight he physically carried. At first glance one would find him bombastic, but when he spoke, it was surprisingly pensive. “The best offense is a solidified defense. When the time comes, you will learn to endure.”
Jaren gazed at the trees about him. “These redwood sentinels endure more than any of us can hope to achieve in a lifetime. Just as the redwood expands its trunk line each cycle, you too shall learn to project your protective barrier.”
Daven glanced to his right side once more, to the defender that snatched down Allia. “When the day comes when you have harnessed your sruth, projected an orbics barrier, you will be ready for the more advanced skill exercises. Only then, shall Alaeic Itori shall become your preceptor.”
Alaeic Itori donned full steal with two crossing leather belts. His hair an ashen blonde, flowed wildly to the jawline, which was freshly shaved, the same cut every morning. “What I have to teach is the same art form that brought Allia to her defeat.”
He eyed the recruits one by one, hanging on Allia a moment longer, “In such short time, most of you will not be able to manifest the eneryia you need to use an amperic strike. However, all of you have the eneryia inside of you already. The task becomes manifesting the flow within in a quickened state that will allow for bursts of agility that will overwhelm your opponent.”
Alaeic shook his head, “The day that arises for you, could not come soon enough. For the gates of Oblivion will not hold back for any of us. If, you are strong enough, you will overcome the forced nature of our timescale, and gaze into the eyes of your maker.”
~~~
The redwood’s stature masked the final waves of light the day had to offer, but through the thick leaves, one could still see the dense swirls of purple and red spread across the sky’s palette.
Following the cliffside back up to the forest, the other Legions could be seen up ahead gathering supplies, organizing the campsite. A pyre had been built in the center, dug deep into a pit lined with newly gathered stone. Bringing the top of the construct barely above the surface.
The blaze was fresh, a fire that would be ripe in time for the evening’s approach. Despite the days growing warmer, the night’s sky still brought a serene coolness to the air. Makeshift wooden benches were set up around the pit, a few tables lining the outskirts. Farther back were dozens of canvas tents that would harbor them for the night.
Alaeic caught his step up to Daven’s, “They did well today. Each round they grew more aggressive in their tactics.”
Daven took a seat at the longest of the tables, set up for him and his preceptors. “They need more time.”
Alaeic sat himself across from Daven, “They will be ready. The twin’s cohesiveness is enough to set example for Clydas and Ellec.” Alaeic laughed, “Ellec is bold like his father, just need to break him in a bit.” At least he is making use of that armor.
The other preceptors, Genna, Jaren sat down beside them. night falling upon the campsite while dinner began. The night’s meal would be in part from the rations they brought over from Andescion. Though we will never get rid of that damned rutabaga fast enough.
The evening’s meal was prepared with chunks of rutabaga roasted over an open flame, cooked in a stew with freshly caught salmon from Reyah’s Lace. The atmosphere was… surreal to say at the very least.
Daven picked at the chunks of rutabaga on his plate, while Genna went off about the timescale. “We are better off leaving them here in Andescion. Half a cycle is not near enough time to get them ready.”
Daven looked over to where the recruits sat. Ellec, Clydas, Allia, Ovaria resided together at a table nearest the fire, mingled with some of the other Legions. He stopped paying attention to Genna for a moment, even from a distance Daven could hear their voices.
Allia sat hunched over her plate, mug of mead in one hand, a fork through a chunk of salmon in the other. Ellec sat across from her with his face to the fire. He leaned a little closer to her, “You can tell me, a draw is nothing to be ashamed of.”
She ignored him, continuing to focus on her feast. Ellec smiled sarcastically, “It would seem the lacking of your agility took hold of you, rather than Alaeic’s eneryia.”
Allia jabbed Ellec with her elbow, taking another bite of salmon, “You know damn well you lost, even in spite of Alaeic using eneryia to stop us.”
Clydas made to jump in but Ovaria cut him off, “Do I recall any of the defenders on your offensive using eneryia against you? Or was it the eneryia filled rock that made you fall and spill your berries?”
Clydas stopped dead in his tracks, the whole table burst out laughing.
Synergy in the making.
Daven cut Genna off in whatever nonsense she was currently spouting, “What better way to appease Arias than to show her teachings fresh in ones born again out of her flames?”
Daven took another swig from his mug. The quicker we diminish this Andescion mead the better. When they reached Diorrus, they could refill their barrels with an imported brew instead.
Jaren intervened before Genna could give reply, “It will be task enough to take on the sword’s retrieval, the young ones could prove to be beneficial with the proper guidance.”
Alaeic nodded. He leaned in closer to Genna while dropping his voice in half, “We will need all the support we can get from our ranks, especially if the Autechs mean to claim it first.”
Genna was far from conceding, “The same faction of Autechs that intervened at the Rolltan Ridge, could quite well be there to ambush us again.”
Daven calmly, but evenly acute, “We were unprepared for the type of threat we were up against, a mistake we will not make again.”
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Genna searched for support, “Have none of you forgotten what they did to Gavin?”
None were quick to give response. She searched for an answer in the faces of each preceptor one by one. Equal parts hard-lined, to balance her altruism.
~~~
The wisps crafted magnificent instruments for the ‘first’ of the mortals that would learn the ways of eneryia. Gifts bestowed upon the chosen few to help lead the way into a prosperous future.
Each tool had a unique flow of the crafter wisp’s power, containing within the ability to bring inner magnificence from potential to fruition. With these tools, the chosen spread out across Melacalya, seeking to carry out the will of their newfound construct. They built the world anew.
As their cycles passed, one by one they would fade from the physical realm. Upon their deaths they were taken with their instruments into Oblivion. Guarding them, waiting for those worthy to reclaim them once more to the realm of the living.
To reclaim such a relic from the wisp’s realm; Oblivion, would be trophy enough to restore Andescion’s honor in the eyes of Arias. Finding the resting places of the instruments, far from a task completed with ease.
Last cycle the Legions had discovered the location for one of these instruments. The Legions found themselves spending the better portion of the cycle in waiting at the southern foothills of Rolltan Ridge. To enter Oblivion required use of an Arbhant; a servant of the wisps. They were the trackers that carried no loyalty other than to the wisp they served. To have one lead a path into Oblivion, came at a great price. Which is all the more reason to let the wisp open the portal on their own.
Every cycle, when the moon rose high at the start of Imbolc, a portal to Oblivion would appear deep in the ridge. From the portal would emerge the ‘Nymair’, the very steed of Moltaeus. It has been said that every cycle the mighty beast would leave the portal untamed, roaming across the hills of Rolltan Ridge, strengthening the bonds with eneryia in every which way path it crossed. But to enter then, meant death.
It was the second night of Imbolc, that Moltaeus himself, along with his cavalry would emerge from the portal, setting out to hunt the Nymair to reclaim her. The hunt would last until the creature was captured once more. Only then, would Moltaeus ride it back into Oblivion, sealing the portal for the rest of the cycle.
Any mortal soul caught in the path of Moltaeus’ wild hunt would be absorbed by the cavalry, eventually to be dragged back into Oblivion. Fodder for the horde.
It would be in the midst of this chaotic timetable, that the Legions would plan entry. The night after Moltaeus’ emergence.
The first night, just as the stories were told, the Nymair emerged. The beast lumbered from the portal, towering at six meters on all fours. Gradually, it stepped forth, till each massive limb grasped dirt or stone. The whole display was armored in ancient bark, embossed in moss and citrine green.
The helm of the creature was a fortress of natural planks, with no evidence of mortal eyes nor mouth. However, it was beyond evident when the creature outreached its head to the night, releasing a sky piercing howl that would be heard kilometers around.
With haste matching true sruth, the Nymair bolted across the ridge descending amongst the rolling hills. A true sight to behold.
Upon the second night, Moltaeus’ Calvary poured from the portal, a rolling thunder upon the land. At the helm, Moltaeus led in all his glory. Even from the far distance the Legions laid in wait, Moltaeus was without a doubt, indescribable.
He stood like a man, but bore no flesh. His body resembled ashen bone, with muscles that wove in bark-like design. Where a man’s head would be, he donned the head of the skull from a massive ram, with pitch black horns that glistened to the points on either end. From far away, Moltaeus was a gigantic sight, meters taller than any man of Melacalya. While he sprinted out across the ridge, a trail of crimson red leaves moved about him like a flow of blood. Truly the wisp of the hunt.
Allotting enough time to pass for any chance of reprieve, - however highly unlikely since Moltaeus conducted his hunt the start of Imbolc, each cycle, and would not return without the Nymair - Daven and the Legions waited a full day’s passing. It would not be until the next evening that they would approach the portal.
The hours that passed were a stagnant stream, all for the better. Any activity could set the whole cycle’s planning into ruin.
Daven took a small group of the Legions to prepare entry to the portal, while the rest would keep watch, scouting the perimeter.
Just when Oblivion’s entry came within reach, the portal stirred, for a third time. A near equal sized group comparable to the Legion’s, clad in argent white steel, matching cloaks textured with white powder, stepped forth. Armor that must be donned with sruth.
In the center of the cluster was a man with no helm. Even from a distance one could sense the bloodlust in his eyes, a cold steel parallel only to the strange armor he bore. In the armor itself, lay intricate design work with deep gashes purposely positioned throughout the armor, it snakes the path of a lightning’s strike.
At certain points along the lightning path, were tiny spheres of light that flickered with his movement. Notably three distinct spheres took prominence with their own outreached paths from the source of the design. They all bear the marking.
Daven’s eyes fixated on what was within the man’s grasp. The man searched his surroundings while holding ‘Rolltan’s Hammer’ in his hand. The approaching Legions did not heighten his pace in any fashion.
His disciples however, moved about him with an aggressive fluidity. Within moments, they positioned to fall upon the Legions while the man in the center crouched low. From within that man, an orbics barrier grew around him. From within, a smaller aura ascended with wispy tendrils while he began harnessing… no… draining… the eneryia from the hammer itself.
They were draining the hammer’s eneryia right from the source. The same dark art Arias forbade, one that cost the city her protection long ago. Autechs.
Daven, Alaeic, Gavin were of the first to charge in. Whatever purpose being had for draining the instrument could not be justified. We had come too far to lose the instrument now. Daven had eyes for one target, he would let Alaeic and Gavin flank the first of the disciples, but even still, the next two blocked the path to the hammer.
The adversaries positioned themselves in an arc around the helmless man, draining more eneryia by the second. In unison the soldiers brought forearms out front, each generating individual orbics barriers that held the line. The days of old, return again.
Gavin struck first, his sword slashing at an orbics barrier. On Gavin’s impact, the shield’s holder stomped his foot, digging in. Gavin stood his ground after the missed blow. Within splits of seconds, Daven and Alaeic fell upon the arc in similar fashion. The barrier did more than hold, it pushed back.
Each soldier in the arc dug in, proceeding to step forward in unison. Together they sent an outward force hitting Gavin, Daven, and Alaeic in succession, sending each flying on their backs, skidding through the dirt.
Daven, with his two flanked preceptors, caught their ground while the other Legions fanned out around them. Line to line with the invasive force. Jaren and Genna took either end of the Legion’s line, holding orbics barriers of their own.
Daven took a charge at the unseen wall that lay before them. The Autechs did not move nor flinch despite his approach in aggressive haste. He roared bringing the point of his blade to the helm of the centermost Autech in the arc.
The tip froze in air, not more than ten centimeters from the helm, and within a split moment Daven felt the thrust’s momentum reverse on him. The force once more sent him airborne, but this time Daven caught his footing, sliding back at the forefront of the Legions who crept forward in formation. Our turn.
The Legions moved as one. Rushing the wall of Autechs in full amperic strike. Genna and Jaren pushed further ahead, clashing into the barrier at both ends. In full sprint, The Reaver saw the glimmer of the barrier-force the Autechs had formed. He saw the ripples Genna and Jaren had created, and he watched them conjoin at the center as the Autechs prepared to throw it back at them.
At the precise moment before the soldier’s feet came down, The Reaver led the charge through. The Reaver, Gavin, and Alaeic each struck the soldier at the epicenter. It was just enough.
All barriers fell in succession. While the barriers fell, in unison, each Autech drew sword with their free hand. The Legions fell upon them immediately. The Legions met the Autechs head on, but the Autechs did not stray from their formation. They held the line from them to the man at the center. The Autech draining more eneryia with each clash of sword on sword.
The Reaver beat the stunned soldier at the forefront with the butt of his sword, staggering him further. The soldier attempted to regain his footing, to push back, a futile attempt to prolong your life Autech, only to be met with The Reaver’s slash meeting his chest.
With his free hand, The Reaver wrapped his fist around the man’s cloak, pulling the polished metal sigil to eye level. A serrated sculpted scorpion with its tail surrounding in circular fashion, what evil is this. He thrust his sword upwards under the breastplate of the soldier, pulled free a blood-stained blade, then tossed the man aside.
The Reaver’s clear path to the portal wavered with two more Autechs falling back to block him. One held his ground in the backline, while the other charged forward. What a pitiful bait.
The Reaver took deep controlled breaths, sidestepped for an amperic strike around the approaching Autech, and made for the other soldier in the backline. At that same moment, the baiting soldier sidestepped with parallel agility, wearing a malevolent grin to meet the Reaver’s surprise.
That was the moment the meteor hammer struck him in the chest. The blow sent a white light across his line of sight, while the second ball on chain came whirling towards him – sidestepping just in time.
The Reaver slide tackled the rebounding soldier, bringing his attention to the wielder of the meteor hammer. With chain in both hands, the Autech built up speed of one of the metallic spheres, a white light beginning to glow in cracked lines within the sphere. With a whip of his step, he hurled the hammer towards the Reaver.
The sphere approached rapidly, the Reaver knocking it down with his sword sending sparks flying. The Autech was quick to pull it back. Within a split moment, the second ball came barreling at a wide stance. The Reaver made to sprint forward, but the chain caught his step.
The chain wrapped around The Reaver’s neck, tightening the helm incrementally, while the attacker attempted to pull Daven to his knees. With a burst of adrenaline Daven tossed his sword, grabbing hold of the chain with both hands.
White light flowed from the sphere across the chain like a snake slave to lightning. When the flow passed his grip, the Reaver growled a scream as the heat flowed into him.
The Autech drew on the chain harder. The scene became surreal. The battlefield moved in slow increments, the burning chain became a numbed sensation. The Reaver watched the slowed moment two of his Legions died in the near distance.
Eneryia flowed from both ends of the fight like a midsummer storm, seemingly for hours. At a distance he watched more of the scouts from the outskirts pouring in to join the battle that had come to be.
Slowly the tempo of the night increased, the Reaver gaining control his breath once more. With an infuriated exhale, the Reaver turned to face the Autech with the meteor hammer. From the corner of his eye, he watched the other solder lose interest in him, sprinting after someone else nearby.
The Reaver followed his path, leading towards Gavin’s pursuit. He managed to break through, thrusting himself towards the portal’s center. The soldier hot on Gavin’s tail met an end with Alaeic bringing him down from behind. End him Gavin.
Gavin’s blade swung high over his head, down for the neck of the brigand draining Rolltan’s Hammer. The blade would never reach its target.
For a split moment the channeling ceased. The man raised one arm over his head while the other thrust the hammer at Gavin’s chest.
The impact broke his momentum effortlessly, and through heightened slowness, Daven watched Gavin’s greatsword fall from his hands. Gavin’s body began to burn, from the inside out, Arias help him. Light seared his flesh through the armor. Gavin went still.
When the lifeless husk of Gavin fell, the man imperturbably returned his attention to draining the hammer once more.
The Reaver dug his gauntlets into the chain, with all his force, and through gritted teeth he pulled the Autech towards him. The Autech staggered on first pull, that was all I needed. The Reaver drew the chain and its holder, one armlength at a time, wrapping it around himself in turn.
Each step made it harder to grasp the air, but it made no difference, you’ll all die for this. Face to face with the Autech soldier, the Reaver headbutted him with all his momentum, falling upon him in a brutal rampage, pounding gauntlet into helm, until there is nothing left.
When the Reaver was finished with the bloodied corpse he knelt upon, he felt the pull of the chain that drew fresh blood around his neck. He tossed the helm aside, seeking out his sword once more.
Sword in hand, he fought his way to the center. Stepping with both haste, certainty, eyes locked on one man, one man alone.
Hardened lines in his face indicated he weathered an equal number of cycles to The Reaver. His beard was sharply cut, thinly trimmed just past his chin. Just above his narrowed eyes, ascending from left temple, were hexagonal imprints that faded into his hairline, sharply cut in brown black.
Eneryia flowed. A siphon from the hammer into the arms of the lone Autech. The aura grew around them while the Reaver drew closer. The Reaver brought the weight of his sword down upon the hammer separating the union, temporarily halting the process.
Bound aura immediately ripped from the man. He made to sweep it off the ground but the Reaver was one step quicker, kicking it out of the portal’s epicenter. The Reaver aggressively forced the man further and further back, away from the hammer with one amperic strike after another.
The man parried each blow almost effortlessly, his facial recognition was absent-minded at best. The Reaver made for his next amperic strike, and just before the hit, the Reaver spun backwards with all his sruth, leaping for the hammer, hurling the sword at the man’s face in the process.
The man caught the blade with an outreached arm. Simultaneously with the other, he channeled the eneryia he stole from the hammer, gripping the blade’s edge tighter, charging the weapon. With parallel haste to the Reaver, he whipped the sword like a dagger, back at the Reaver.
The Reaver grabbed the hammer just in time, barely deflecting the blade, sending sparks all along the sword’s edge as it narrowly passed over him with a deafening hiss. Each spark that flew ripped another crack into the blade itself, shattering it before the hilt had time to pass.
The Reaver rose with blood dripping down his face. Each pass of a shard left wiry scorch marks that steamed in the cold air. Leaving jagged cuts plaguing his face. From a defensive stance, hammer in hand, he watched the Autechs fall in upon their leader, regrouping.
The Reaver lifted the hammer with all his might, gripping the shaft fiercely in each hand, and gave the hammer a wide overhead swing down upon the stone beneath.
Shockwaves that erupted from the impact lashed violently towards both the Autechs, portal alike. Spiraling smoke, cracked stone in a whipped serpentine, chased towards them.
An impending strike cascading upon ‘him’, his helpless followers, the expression still did not change. Nor did he flinch. The look of his eyes I’ll never forget until I close them myself.
With a clap of thunder, the portal’s center was engulfed in smoke that spiraled into the sky.
When the storm dissipated, the aftermath was a crater beneath the portal. Though portal itself lay unscathed. The Legions approached ready to end any survivors, but in the crater’s confines all that remained was shattered stone.
The portal.
He grazed his gauntlet along the glyphs in the head of the hammer. Rolltan’s Hammer. Most were faded, some even cracked, but with the few that remained alight, he channeled.
What power remained surpassed still any might he had known before, but not the weapon’s true potential. For that, you will pay.
Alaeic was the first to regroup to Daven’s side, with Genna, Jaren close in tow. Genna frantically searched across the nearby rubble, while Daven lost his gaze in the portal. “We must go in after them.”
Genna glanced back. “We cannot risk it, Moltaeus will surely see the beacon we’ve lit.”
Alaeic rested a hand on Daven’s shoulder. “She’s right, Daven, we must leave this place.”
Daven’s grip clenched the shaft of the hammer while he stared down the portal. Genna descended the crater’s edge, still searching. Gavin rests in Oblivion now.
~~~
The loss of their fellow preceptor last cycle was still fresh in all their minds. Daven remembered the look on Gavin’s face when the hammer struck him in the chest. While the flesh bursting streaks of light gripped his being through his armor. A wretched sight for anyone to bear witness, let alone experience.
Genna continued, “A dozen Legion dead, and with that a preceptor. Gavin.”
Daven shook his head dismissively. “We cannot risk them beating us to another instrument. One instrument alone is enough eneryia to outpower a majority of the Legions. Should they be allowed to continue this pursuit of theirs, none of Melacalya, let alone Andescion, will stand against them.”
The hammer had the remnants of the former power, but not a true eneryia weapon any longer. You’ll fade to Oblivion before you take another from me.
After a pause, Jaren spoke. “Have we heard news of the Arbhant? We will not be able to enter the gate regardless without her.”
Alaeic spoke with concern. “There have been reports of borderless men making odd inquiries about Arias in Diorrus. Word has it, the Arbhant was seen in Diorrus, heading east not long after.”
Genna jumped in, “Without Arias’ Arbhant, we cannot head to the portal itself.”
Daven emerged from his thoughts. With all eyes on him, he answered, “Genna is right, we cannot head to the portal itself. We must gain some insight of the Arbhant’s whereabouts in Diorrus. Along the way, we shall have the time we need to train our recruits properly. What we learn in Diorrus will decide whether we head to the Cascadial Forest or elsewhere to find our Arbhant.”
Daven met the eyes of each preceptor in turn. “Bear in mind, her departure of Arias’ grounds could very well mean she shall be bringing back more who seek the sword. Especially if these men, that bear no sigil, have been questioning about Arias and Oblivion.” Autechs.
Though he wasn’t certain what exactly he fought last cycle, it was undoubtedly no Blood Ranger, but an Autech still. Their movements… This was a power not seen for many cycles, not since Arias’ departure…
All preceptors nodded in agreement, Alaeic continued. “We should head to The Seine, then break south for Diorrus. Plenty of opportunity to work their sruth with Genna.”
They all turned to watch the recruits interact before the nearby fire. They will be ready.
~~~
The rider came with dawn’s first light, escorted to Daven’s tent by two Legion sentries. Nothing good comes from tidings brought under the cover of darkness. The morning’s meal was in the midst of being prepared, while others were taking down the tents in preparation for the midday journey.
The recruits were heading towards the center ring of tents, where they would find Genna. The preliminaries of the early start would not truly begin till after they had their meal, so naturally the rider caught their attention.
Daven exhaled heavily when the cloaked rider approached with his courser. His facial features were mostly hidden, but a Shadowmancer sigil was embroidered on his chest piece. “What good news from Lessiel have you brought the Legions at this fine hour.”
The rider surveyed his surroundings before giving reply. “Lessiel sends word not for my eyes, or any of their ears, Reaver.” He pulled a wrapped parchment from within his cloak, pointing it deliberately past the guards, towards Daven.
Reluctantly, Daven snatched the rolled parchment from the rider’s grasp, shifting it in his hand. The rotated parchment revealed the Shadowmancer sigil stamped in ebony wax at the center. He slowly rubbed his thumb over each crevice in the sigil while the rider began to dismount.
The smell of roasted rutabaga slithered its way through the air. “Well, we mustn’t keep Lessiel waiting.” Daven motioned to the nearest of the two Legion guards, “Bring me a plate to my tent.”
The guard turned with a nod and left, with the other Legions following suit to the call of a fresh made meal. The rider made to follow, leaving his reins with the other guard, when Daven called out, “Our provisions are limited to our own, rider. Best you wait here for a quicker return to Andescion.”
Daven turned his back to the flabbergasted rider, re-entering his tent. Ludicrous.
Daven took a seat at the head of his freshly constructed table. He wanted to keep the Legions in the habit of preparation for when the time would call for them to be ready. The council table would be freshly erected at each campsite, it seemed only irony it would get first use on the morn of their departure.
Daven lay the parchment on the table, staring at it for a moment before reading it. It wasn’t long, before the guard brought in the morning’s catch; fresh trout. From the smell of it, sautéed with garlic and lemon.
He waved the guard out, moving the plate aside, to keep the letter in solitude at the center of the table.
With a small dagger he broke the Shadowmancer seal, pressing the letter flat against the surface.
The day’s journey eastward… trail of Northron Raven…
Blood Rangers…
The Greywacke Promontory… Ceronus…
Daven leaned back in his chair. Eventually, grabbing a sheet from his side table, he scribed his reply…
Daven signed his name at the bottom in freshly dipped ink. He watched the signature dry before rolling the parchment up, sealing it with his own crimson seal of the Andescion Legions; a fisted gauntlet encased in circular steel bars. He lay the letter down on the table, picking up both fork, knife in turn.
He cut the fish into bite-sized squares that he dipped in the sauce that had accumulated, taking his time to consume the plate, for any breakfast may be your last. When Daven had fully finished, and enough time had passed, he retrieved the letter, proceeding to re-emerge from his tent.
The rider got up from his seat in the dirt, doing his best to hide the scowl he wished to wear fearlessly. Daven’s face remained emotionless when he pressed the letter firmly into his hands. “Lessiel will know where to find us if need be.”
Daven turned to leave, joining the others, with most of the Legions were finishing up their meals by now. While the rider remounted his courser, Daven called after him one more time, “Should he send the likes of you again, be sure to bring appropriate provisions. For where we are going, you would do well to have them.”
The rider mustered a glare, but nothing more. He pivoted his courser, riding off north and eastward towards the city.
With the Legions set to move out within a few hours, the camp was at a full bustle preparing, dismantling, and reassembling.
Daven glanced to the table where the four recruits sat the evening prior, though empty now, he played the night prior back in his mind.
With time, he made his way to the cliffside he had stood the day prior. Alaeic was already there, the recruits were already hard at work. Upon approach, he could overhear Genna down below in full form, “Again.”
For a few minutes they stood in silence, watching the Legions down below. Eventually Alaeic broke the silence, while keeping his eyes on the recruits. “What did they want?”
Daven kept his gaze on the recruits, “Lessiel believes a faction of the Autechs are moving towards the Iarthua Gate.”
A clash of streel armor against wooden sticks drifted up the cliffside. “Which faction?”
“Blood Rangers by the sound of it. I noted we would keep a ‘keen’ eye for any Blood Rangers, but would not be changing course at the current moment.” They both returned to silence, never taking their eyes off the training ground below.
Alaeic’s face grew slightly sterner, “Did you tell them?”
Daven remained unchanged, “The less he knows the better. We stay the course. We head to the Iardheis Gate.”