Chapter 499: The Cinder Brood’s Stand
As the mystical storm raged over Hollow Shade warriors of the Valley Tribes continued to rush towards the Western Gate in droves, weapons raised, battle cries on their lips. But as they neared the gate a lone figure floated above. A mage in deep blue robes, standing atop a swirling disk of water. Her grey hair drifted wildly in the raging winds. Electricity crackled throughout her body. The warriors stared up at the Tempest Archmage with fear in their eyes, but bloodlust filled their hearts and pushed them forward.
With a snap of her wrists, Ismene called lightning down on the incoming warriors. She weaved her hands through the rain, forming dozens of liquid spears, and hurled them through the battalions, slicing through men and women without mercy.
The warriors shot arrows and javelins at her relentlessly. Shields of water swirled to life around her, blocking every attack. Valley mages cast bolts of flame, beams of light, shards of rock, and more. Ismene weaved torrent spells into existence and struck down each magical blast.
The daughters of House Noir watched from the wall as the small lone figure held off the entire battalion.
“You used to tell me stories of how powerful Ismene was but this is… she’s terrifying,” Unalla said in awe.
“She’s pushing herself too far,” Una muttered. “She’s in pain, she’s angry…”
Unalla glanced at her uncle’s body, lying slumped on the wall. Loh knelt next to Elzri, holding his hand. Her head was bowed and she hadn’t moved nor spoken since Elzri had fallen, save for her shuddering cries and trembling shoulders.
“Oh no,” Una whispered in dismay.
“What? What is it?” Unalla asked. She followed her mother’s gaze and spotted a small group of centaurs galloping towards the gate. One of the riders carried a black banner depicting a green serpent wrapped around a vine, the crest of the Undergrowth House of Loch. “It can’t be… he’s alive!?” she gasped.
“So it would seem.” Una clenched her teeth and slowly pushed herself to her feet with a heavy groan.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“Ismene can’t keep this up by herself for long. She needs help, especially if Alwin Loch still lives.”
Unalla frowned. “But you’re injured. And you exhausted most of your mana reserves in the battle with the dragonbanes. You can’t fight an archmage like Loch in your condition!”
“I cannot let Ismene fight alone,” Una replied, her voice was tired, but her blue eyes were resolute.
“Then we’ll fight together.” She picked up Votum and hefted it up with a grimace. The orichalcum weapon had taken its toll on her body, though she tried her best to hide it.
“You’re not coming,” said Una.
“What? What are you—”
“You are going to your father at the Northern Gate.”
“We don’t even know if it’s safe over there! For all we know the Northern Gate has fallen as well and Dad is coming to find us.”
“Either way, your father is a powerful mage, he will keep you safe no matter where he is. Leave this place and find him.”
Unalla shook her head. “But Mom, Ismene and you can’t fight them all off. I can help—”
“You’ve done enough!” Una snapped at her. “If you had just listened to me and run away when I told you to then Elzri wouldn’t have—” She stopped and held her tongue at the sight of horror and shame on her daughter’s face.
Una sighed and turned her back. “You and Elohnoir will travel to the Northern Gate immediately, that is an order. Maximus, carry them both as swiftly as you can.”
“Consider it done, my lady,” the gruff centaur bowed.
“Mom, I’m sorry…” Unalla whispered shakily. “I’m sorry, I—”
“There is no time. Go now.” Una leaped off the wall without glancing back. Orange mana filled her veins and lessened her body’s weight by half. She landed in a roll and got back up sprinting. She ignored the warriors rushing the gate and headed straight towards the incoming centaurs.
The beastmen slowed to a halt at the behest of their leader; a man cloaked in dark gilded armor. His face was hidden behind a black helm, but Ismene recognized his eyes just the same.
“I don’t believe it,” Lord Loch laughed.
“You’re not the only one surprised,” Una said tersely.
Loch gave a signal to his men with a quick hand gesture. The centaurs and riders slowly surrounded Una. “Oh, I knew I would find you eventually, even if I had to hunt you down across the entire realm, I would make you pay for what you did to me back at Undergrowth, Una Noir.”
She furrowed her brow. “You know who I am?”
“The legendary azure flames of House Noir are hard to forget. It was easy enough to deduce your identity after that.” He drew his sword and pointed it at her, “You’d be surprised how little a white mage can do for burns caused by such flames. I wonder, can you imagine the pain? As your skin melts and your muscles sizzle in the heat. The white mages didn’t think I’d make it.”
“Yet here you are,” she muttered.
“Yet here I am. And I have you to thank for that. I’m grateful to the gods for the chance to repay the favor.” Lightning crackled across his blade. He glanced at his men, “Kill her.”
~~~
“Come now, Miss Noir,” Maximus said with a rare trace of warmth. He gently picked up Una and put her on his saddle. She didn’t fight him.
“Young mistress?” Maximus glanced at Loh.
With stiff movements, Loh wrapped her arms around her grandfather and picked him up. She stumbled for a moment, her injured leg buckled, but she held on and found her footing.
Maximus bent down and helped her onto the saddle in front of Unalla. He offered to carry Elzri’s body, but Loh silently refused to let go.
Maximus nodded sympathetically. “Hold on.” He stood to his feet, ignoring his own injuries, and galloped across the wall towards the Northern Gate.
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Unalla numbly stared out towards the ruined Commoner District. The sudden storm’s rain had put out most of the fires, but a few still burned across the wreckage of the homes destroyed by trebuchet boulders. Jade lightning flashed in the night sky, illuminating the whole city. Valley tribal banners shone bright in the darkness for the briefest of moments.
Tears welled in Unalla’s eyes. Despite their sacrifices and struggles, the enemy had already breached the city. Soon, they would reach the Trade District and the rest of the city. Hollow Shade would fall and there was nothing she could do about it. Elzri had died for nothing and it was all her—
“It’s not your fault,” Loh whispered.
“Huh?” Unalla sniffed.
“Your mother is in pain,” Loh spoke slowly, “But she is wrong, my grandfather, he— He would have fought to protect all of us no matter what. Whether you had stayed and fought or not, it isn’t your fault for what happened. Don’t blame yourself.”
Unalla bit her trembling bottom lip. You should hate me. You should blame me. You’re the one hurting the most.
“We need to get to safety,” Loh went on quietly.
“What we need to do is help,” Unalla whispered.
“There is nothing we can do by ourselves against all of that,” Loh pointed to the storms brewing above the city. They caught small glimpses of dragons flying in and out of the clouds struggling against the dragonbanes.
“How do we stop them…?” Unalla mumbled hopelessly.
“We can’t. Maximus and I are taking you to Atlas. Your father and Holo will know what to do next.”
“They can’t stop this either…” Another flash of lightning illuminated the night and Unalla spotted the Ebon Tower standing tall at the center of the city. Her eyes widened with a glimmer of hope. “But maybe Nell can.”
“What? Hey, what are you—? Stop!”
Unalla leaped off Maximus and ran to the edge of the wall.
“Where are you going!?” Loh shouted.
Unalla looked back at her and gripped Votum’s handle with both her hands, “To find help.” She jumped off the edge and plummeted towards the ground. She spun Votum into a reverse grip and stabbed it into the wall. The orichalcum blade sunk into the magestone in a burst of sparks and slowed her descent to a halt a couple of meters above the ground. She planted her feet on the wall and kicked off it, yanking the sword out of the magestone.
Unalla landed on her back. Scrambling to her feet, she glanced up to see Loh watching her from above the wall. With a silent resolute nod, Unalla dashed off towards the Ebon Tower.
“Should we follow?” Maximus asked.
Loh shook her head, “No. She’s made her decision. Whatever it may be, I trust her to see it through.”
“Should we find Atlas then?”
“...No.” Loh pulled Elzri’s body close in her arms. “Head for my family’s manor.”
~~~
…Hollow Shade… South-West wall…
The Cinder Brood tribe leaned over the wall’s merlons and stabbed their spears down at the valley warriors climbing up their siege ladders. The warriors did their best to block the attacks, but a spear would find its way through their defenses. The men and women cried out in pain as the spear slid into their ribs. Yet for every warrior that fell a hundred more were already climbing up the ladders behind them.
The entire wall as far as Melfyn could see was lined with siege ladders. Warriors had already reached the top of the wall and were rushing towards them from both sides. Commander Stonehand and some of Hollow Shade’s guards defended the western side, while Captains Talia and Rorick, and the rest of the guards defended the southern side.
Little by little the valley warriors were gaining ground and the guards and Cinder Brood were being crushed in the middle.
Sandra, the best archer among the orphans, fired what little arrows they had left at the warriors trying to push into them. Her slit pupil eyes glanced around anxiously. “They’re too many!” she yelled.
Jack, the tallest of the Cinder Brood, and a human, did his best to shield Sandra’s smaller frame with his shield as the enemy shot arrows from the ground. “Just keep firing!”
Rowan, the only drow among the Cinder Brood and the quietest of them, grabbed his sword and shield, broke off from the rest of the tribe, and joined the fight alongside Rorik and Talia.
“Rowan, come back!” Melfyn shouted worriedly.
A trebuchet’s boulder suddenly hurtled towards the wall and crashed into the southern side. It ripped an enormous chunk of magestone with it and shattered into hundreds of fragments, killing dozens of guards and valley warriors in an instant, and sending more tumbling to their deaths.
The impact shook the wall and Melfyn and the others stumbled. As the dust cleared Rorick’s agonizing cries pierced the air. “AGH! FUCK! OH GODS! MY LEG!”
Melfyn rubbed the dust from his eyes and spotted Rorick lying on the ground next to the giant missing chunk of magestone. His right leg was a bloody stump below the knee.
“Rowan! Rowan, where are you!?” Melfyn yelled out frantically.
A valley warrior clambered up one of the remaining siege ladders and landed heavily on the wall. He stood to his feet and a chill ran down Melfyn’s back. The man was a vampire, almost 3 meters tall, a dire. He pulled out his hammer hanging from his back and stalked towards maimed Rorik.
The drow captain spotted the giant and paled in fear. “Oh, shit! No! Get away from me! Fuck! Somebody help me! Somebody!”
“Shut up!” Captain Talia barked and stood in front of him.
The dire vampire snarled at the small vampiress, “Do you think you can—”
Talia dashed forward and slashed her sword at his knees. The dire parried the strike with his hammer and swung it at her face. She raised her shield to block and it caved in on impact. The blow knocked her straight into the ground.
The dire vampire raised his hammer to deliver the final strike when Melfyn ran at him. The goblin vaulted into the air, crossing over Rorik and Talia in a single leap like a hero from legends, arm held back, spear in hand.
“FOR LUNIS!” Melfyn shouted and jabbed the spear into the giant’s chest. The spearhead glanced off the giant’s armor and slipped into his shoulder. The dire vampire roared in pain and kicked Melfyn in the chest as he landed.
The goblin flew back like a ragdoll, crashed into the wall, and crumpled to the ground. Melfyn sucked in a deep breath and gulped for air like a fish out of water.
“You little shit,” the dire growled and ripped the spear out of his shoulder. Hefting his hammer, he ignored Talia and went straight for the stunned goblin.
Sandra spotted the giant and reached for her quiver, “Get away from Mel!” But her hand found only air. Her yellow eyes went wide in terror. There were no arrows left. “No…!” she gasped. “Mel!”
Sandra pushed past her friends and ran towards Melfyn. But she was too far, there were too many in her way. The giant raised his hammer.
“NO!!” she screamed and stretched out her hand.
A burning sensation bloomed across her chest. A flame erupted from her fingertips and engulfed the giant in a blaze of fiery orange. The dire vampire cried out and danced around maniacally, until he slipped and fell off the wall in a heap of flames.
Sandra’s vision swam and her knees buckled underneath her.
“I’ve got you!” Rowan said from behind. He slipped his arm under her shoulders and carried her.
Several other Cinder Broods broke away and rushed over to Melfyn, Rorik, and Talia. In pairs of two, they picked them up and dragged them back. They carefully placed them down at the center of the small shield wall the Cinder Brood had formed.
Melfyn spotted Sandra lying on the ground, the light in her eyes dim. Jack held her head in his lap.
“Mel, what’s wrong with her?” Jack asked worriedly.
Melfyn wanted to say he didn’t know but his voice was raw and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath, it was as if an anvil was sitting atop his chest. He didn’t have to take off his armor to know the giant had broken half his ribs.
“She’s experiencing backlash from her spell-casting,” Talia answered. “It’s common among mageborns when they awaken their powers.”
“Mageborns…? You’re saying Sandra’s a mage?” Jack asked.
“Well, I’ve never seen an ordinary person hurl fire from their hands before. I’ve never seen a goblin cast a spell before either…” Talia added as an afterthought.
“Is there anything we can do to help her?” Jack asked.
“I’m not a mage. I don’t know,” Talia admitted.
“We have bigger problems to worry about,” interrupted Rowan.
The valley warriors were overwhelming the soldiers on the wall from the southern side.
“Bellum, save us,” Talia muttered.
“Wait, what is that?” Rorik pointed with shaky grey fingers. Past the valley armies, at the back of their forces, behind their trebuchets, at the very edge of the grasslands, a pale white haze was slowly creeping up on the horizon.
Talia narrowed her scarlet eyes. “Fog…?”
“No, that’s…” Melfyn whispered in a raspy voice. “Frost-mist…?”