On a boulder beneath the tallest peak of the Haroc mountain range, sat a man with a small stringed instrument. An instrument forgotten by time, and as old as the man who wielded it. The sun drew shadows on his wrinkled skin. His long hair and beard were as grey as the mountain stone, and his robes were tattered. Before him lay a clearing, and the path down to the foot of the mountain. The road was crawling with hundreds of soldiers marching towards him. His face, however, was void of all emotions.

As he gazed towards the horizon, his hands landed softly on his instrument, and his fingers began to dance. They played beautiful arpeggiated chords, accompanied by a heartbroken melody. There was no sudden shift in the air. It was as if the song was already playing in the background, and was given a helping hand to the front. He began to sing.

“Wicked ones, who pray for rain.

Veiled and blurred, hearts in twain.

The sea will guide the ever-blue to us,

Home, smoke, dusk.”

As his voice carried down the mountain path, the winds began to stir and clouds were forming overhead, slowly blotting out the sun.

“Will and shade, wick in flame.

Another time, yet again.

Douse the stench of man away in shame,

Hope, vile, pain.”

The music continued into an instrumental break, and trees jostled, the winds whispered, and rocks tumbled to the melody. The soldiers were marching adamantly, but some nervous glances were exchanged between them. Not only could they hear the music clear as day, they could feel it in the mountain beneath, and before they could think twice about it, the sun was missing from the skies. It had gone from clear day to gloomy overcast in just a couple of moments.

As the army reached the top of the road, the commander called for a halt. Augmentor infantry stopped in formation and ranged manipulators positioned themselves alongside the high ground to each side of the mountain glade. The commander spoke up through the music.

“By order of Istavian, First Lord of Westridge and ruler of Elisiya, you are banished!” As the commander yelled, the man continued playing, oblivious to the army before him.

“This is your chance for peace! You are sitting on valuable soil and a rightful part of Elisiya. Should you choose to ignore this declaration you are to be executed, as ordered by the First Lord!”

The man under the mountain reached the end of the repeating melody and struck a hauntingly beautiful chord. The skies cracked and water poured over the area in an instant. The commander looked up, finding only dark clouds and rain. A sudden burst of sadness washed over him as if nothing about this was worth it anymore. He shook it off almost instantly. He knew the feelings were not his own. The rest of the troops were shuffling uncomfortably where they stood, likely tasting the same depressing emotions.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“You leave us no other choice.” The commander said and thrust his hand high.

“Spears!” He commanded, and the ranged manipulators began to mould the surge into javelins of force. After a few concentrated faces and speedy hand movements, the entire back line of the army was holding uncontrollably shaking weapons spun out of the surge. The commander swiftly dropped his hand and continued.

“Fire at will!” The sharp bolts were launched in quick succession, soaring through the air at incredible speeds. They collided violently with the target. The sheer number of them made the ground shake and the area explode in gravel. The manipulators continued to barrage independently until a small pause between their attacks showed that there was only a violated boulder left behind.

“Hold fire!” As the dust had settled, no corpse was to be seen. Murmurs of doubt began to move throughout the crowd.

"It would not have been this easy!" The commander declared. “Stay alert!”

The augmentor soldiers looked frantically around the area while holding a tight wall formation, and manipulators started to climb the sides of the hills for reconnaissance. The commander's face twisted into one of focus. He held up a finger and silence washed quickly over their whispers. He was listening, and soon everyone else was as well. He thought he could hear a distant rumbling noise over the sound of rain, reminiscent of a loose cart tumbling down the road. It grew louder, moment by moment, as if more carts had joined in the avalanche. Then there was the sound of trees falling and shattering. He peered into the dense forest, concentrating on the spot where the sound was building from. It didn’t take long before he noticed something charging their way at ferocious speeds.

"MOVE!" The commander yelled and soldiers bolted in every direction. They didn’t make it far before the trees separating the forest from the clearing snapped like twigs. A four-legged beast the size of a house jumped into the glade, emerald scales glistening in the rain. The ground quaked as it landed, accompanied by the sound of spattering flesh and bone. A deafening choir of screams cut short by an abrupt death followed. Those closest, but lucky enough to avoid a direct hit, were sent tumbling across the ground. Before the beast had a chance to continue its onslaught, a flurry of surge spears and metal chakrams controlled by the manipulators bombarded its scales. It flinched and a small spark lit between its razor-sharp teeth. It opened a heavily muscled set of jaws and the flicker turned to brilliant light so abruptly that the soldiers were blinded by the display. Some were dazed, and some tried to shield their eyes and react to the situation, but before they could counterattack, the bright glow turned to fire.

An inferno burst out from its gaping mouth, sending shrieks of torment from the manipulators. It swept its gaze over their ranks engulfing them in the heat, leaving no chance for escape. The breath of fire diminished as the titan closed its maw, and the commander as well as the infantry still standing, were left unblinking, frozen in terror. The creature studied its surroundings, not making any direct move to attack. The clearing had become an ankle-deep pool of rainwater and blood. The air smelled of burnt meat and was littered with the ashes of their kin. The few manipulators yet living tried their best to douse their burning tissue in the water, but the flames wouldn’t diminish. They howled in terror and pleaded for help, but the last of the soldiers didn’t move to help.

The commander looked up at the monstrosity and tried to speak, but as its eyes moved to his, words failed him. A woman to the left of him buckled down on all fours and stuck her head in the water. The man to his right burst out in tears and followed suit. He tried to speak again, to tell them to stop, but it was of no use. The viridescent brute turned his massive head slowly towards the commander, while his trusty troop of hardened warriors were all kneeling in the water and drowning themselves.

He had never felt such a sense of hopelessness in his entire life. The last of his friends, his comrades, the people he had known for years, were all splashing in the water, killing themselves. Deep down somewhere, he knew what was going on, and that part of him screamed and screamed to break free, but he was taken by terror. Some of the soldiers closest to him pulled on his legs, but he didn’t help. He couldn’t. All he could was stare, at the burning glade, the dying men, the dead men, and the drake.