Every Revenant in Walden’s Hold was gathered in front of the guard barracks. Three figures stood at the center of the circle: Meyer, Grant, and a woman Davon recognized as Emma, leader of the local Green Trackers. He had known Emma for a long time. She was usually with the group of Trackers who escorted the Night Runner’s shipments.
Murmurs spread throughout the crowd of Revenants, drawing Davon’s attention every which way. His mind was scattered between trying to organize his thoughts and attempting to listen to the words of his fellows. Still exhausted from the rush of combat, he failed to do either.
“Alright, quiet down.” Grant clapped his hands to get everyone’s full attention. “Listen up, if you want to survive what comes next.”
“We managed to destroy most of the Crimson Reavers’ siege engines, but we can’t rest yet,” Meyer declared, his voice rising imperiously over the crowd. “We must not risk the enemy making another attempt at our walls. So, we strike first and break the siege.”
Uneasy murmuring echoed through the circled Revenants, but was cut short by Grant.
“I know, it sounds too simple, but sometimes the simplest solution is the best. With the Green Trackers here, we have the numbers to put up a fight, even without our abilities.” Grant nodded towards Emma with a grin. “I know most of you are drained after that final push, but our enemy is shaken. The time to strike is now.”
“The Stalwarts and all infantry Revenants will make a direct charge.” Meyer stood tall and proud, but Davon thought he detected a trace of uncertainty in the acting commander’s voice. “All spellcaster Revenants will join me in circling around the enemy’s right flank, while Emma will lead the archers in circling around the left flank. With enough speed, we will thin their ranks significantly, hopefully pushing the enemy into a full rout.”
Meyer finished his explanation by slamming a fist against his chest. “Now, take a breather, but keep it short. We will begin the assault soon.”
Davon exchanged troubled glances with his two companions. Their expressions made it clear that they shared Davon’s doubts about Meyer.
Once the crowd of Revenants dispersed, the trio found their own spot out of the rain to sit down. As soon as they were settled, Kai spoke up.
“This plan sounds… shoddy, at best. At worst… well, considering the numbers…”
“Suicidal?” Lyla asked pointedly.
“Yeah… suicidal.” Kai shrugged with a nonchalance that seemed unsuited to the conversation. “But I suppose it’s better than waiting around for those brutes to attack.”
“Honestly, with the Trackers here, I’d say we stand a chance,” Davon said. “If they have any magic left to pull on, anyway.”
The sound of rain tapping gently against the awning above them filled the silence that followed. Davon closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, savoring the quiet as his exhaustion slowly faded.
He was pulled out of his short meditation only moments later when he heard pages rustling beside him. Looking over, he saw Lyla pull out a book and quill from somewhere beneath her cloak. She flipped through the book until she found an empty page. With a sigh, she placed her quill on it. To Davon’s surprise, even without a source of ink, the quill left a mark on the page.
Davon watched as Lyla filled the page with intricate drawings which made his mind spin. He recognized a few sections as runes, but his very basic knowledge of magic was not nearly enough to glean any meaning from the writings. However, it struck him as significant that Lyla hadn’t tried to hide the book beneath her cloak before writing this time.
A close-lipped smile crept onto his face. Maybe the intensely private woman had finally gotten more comfortable around him and Kai.
Their moment of peace didn’t last long.
“Gather round!” Grant’s shout rang out from the barracks. “It’s time to move.”
Within the next few minutes, the trio was split and sorted into different groups. Davon followed his fellow archers to the gate. Anxiety welled up inside him, more for Lyla and Kai than for himself.
Before his fears could get the best of him, he thought back to all he had lost since that day on the docks. He focused on his desire for revenge, trying to force his anxiety to harden into grim resolve.
The sound of Grant’s gruff voice pulled him out of his inner spiraling.
“Remember your positions, follow your leaders, and you’ll be fine,” Grant reassured the gathered Revenants. “Let’s move out.”
Grant slammed his fist against the gate twice. The gates lurched, then began to open, ever so slowly. Davon settled into the rear of his group, holding his bow in a white-knuckle grip.
The tension was palpable as the warband walked slowly out of the city, weapons raised and ready to fight. No response sounded from the Crimson Reaver forces, gathered only a few hundred feet away along the tree line. Their enemy hadn’t realized what was happening yet, but Davon was filled with anticipation for the moment the clash began. His heartbeat sped up at the thought of facing an army of Crimson Reavers head-on, without the guaranteed safety of cover to hide behind.
From the front of the group, Emma gestured for the archers to split off.
Reflexively, Davon placed his hand against the ethereal bowstring, conjuring an arrow. He prodded the mental connection with his Reliquary, testing if his weapon was ready to invoke its runes again. He wasn’t certain how he knew to do this. No one had trained him to communicate with his Reliquary. Even so, he found the act as natural as breathing.
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Davon allowed himself a sigh of relief when the Scattershot rune connected with his mind and no pain followed. With renewed confidence, he marched alongside his fellow Revenants, ready to face what was to come.
The rainfall grew heavier, pelting the tightly packed earth as the archers circled cautiously around the left side of the battlefield. The sound stirred an old fear within Davon. While light rain was calming to him, more intense downpours reminded him of the storms he had weathered on the Night Runner, fighting against nature’s efforts to sink the ship.
Davon’s reminiscence was interrupted by a monstrous roar emanating from the forest. Slipping immediately into combat mode, Davon raised his bow and looked towards the source of the sound. He saw one of the Crimson Reavers’ war beasts among the trees, its trunk-like arms raised as it gave another roar.
“Spread out! Find your marks!” Emma shouted, causing the group of archers to disperse into a loose formation.
Davon fell into place and took aim. He wasted no time on hesitation. With the Scattershot rune still invoked, he took a confident shot at the beast. His shot was the first, clearing his comrades and flying true. For a moment, a rain of splinters banished the crimson gloom, scattering into the beast’s belly and forcing it to stagger backwards.
“RUN THEM DOWN!” Grant’s voice carried across the battlefield, followed closely by the war cries of the infantry Revenants.
Seemingly caught unawares, the Crimson Reaver forces started pouring onto the battlefield in total disarray. Davon watched gleefully as the stumbling soldiers practically tripped over each other. Raising his bow, he synced his breathing with his weapon and slipped into a battle trance yet again.
Each draw of the bowstring felt serene. The crackling of energy only fueled Davon’s determination. Every arrow he loosed sent delight surging through him as blood sprayed from his target’s wounds.
Pausing briefly to glance at the rest of the battlefield, Davon watched Grant’s forces crash into the disorganized enemy battle line. Even the war beast didn’t give the Revenants pause. One by one, the monsters went down under a series of repeated blows.
Flashes of various spells from the far flank caught Davon’s gaze. In that moment, he discovered an appreciation for the beauty of destruction. He relished the sight of each Crimson Reaver soldier falling to the ground. Their death screams satisfied his need for revenge, if only by a little bit.
Returning his focus to the battle in front of him, though, Davon realized there was no time to savor the death of his enemies. The Crimson Reavers were rallying as the initial shock wore off. They had managed to form some semblance of a shield wall, limiting the effectiveness of Davon’s group.
Annoyed, Davon pulled his bowstring taut, scanning the enemy shields for any weakness. Then a bright flash in his periphery drew his attention. He turned to see Emma, longbow raised, holding a glowing arrow against an ethereal bowstring.
Energy gathered in Emma’s weapon, illuminating the area around her with bright light. When she let her arrow fly, Davon was left momentarily blinded by the flash. An explosion like thunder sounded in his ears.
Blinking away the pain in his eyes, Davon was shocked by the sight before him. There was a massive gap in the enemy’s shield wall. A trail of fire spread from Emma’s feet to the back of the monsters’ battle line. Even as he looked, several Crimson Reavers fell to the ground, half-disintegrated.
In all his time spent travelling alongside the woman in the past, Davon had never imagined she was capable of such devastation.
With newfound respect, Davon redirected his attention to the Crimson Reavers and continued harassing them with a hail of arrows. Only seconds later, though, he paused again.
Something strange was happening behind enemy lines.
A group of Crimson Reavers, red cloth wrapped around their armor, had gathered in a circle behind the soldiers. Davon narrowed his eyes, but before he could make out more details, the red-robed Crimson Reavers simultaneously raised their hands.
Anxiety crept into the back of Davon’s mind as words began echoing in his thoughts. The whispering was low and guttural, in a language he didn’t recognize, and it had no visible source.
Suddenly gripped by fear, Davon scanned his surroundings, noting that other Revenants around him were doing the same.
Crimson light flashed behind the enemy battle lines. From the midst of the red-robed Crimson Reavers, an orb of pure energy rose into the air. The whispers in Davon’s mind intensified as this glowing red orb grew larger and larger.
The orb grew into the size of a siege boulder. Its light intensified, casting the battlefield in a terrifying crimson. Davon felt panic take root in his gut. The whispering voices drowned out everything, even the faint echoes of shouting all around him. His thoughts turned to escape, but he couldn’t move his feet.
Suddenly, something yanked Davon by the arm. He turned to see one of the Revenant archers from his group, shaking Davon and screaming.
“Are you deaf?! Emma called for retreat! Go!”
The Revenant’s voice broke through the haze covering Davon’s mind. He shook his head to clear the lingering whispers. Looking around, he saw other Revenants running back towards the city.
Davon didn’t even respond to his fellow Revenant. He just turned and ran, falling into a dead sprint towards the gates. From behind him, the light continued growing brighter.
Like another Red Dawn, Davon thought, his panic rising again.
Then the heat started. At first, it was only an uncomfortable warmth against his back, but it quickly became unbearable. Davon felt sweat forming on his skin. Only a moment later, he caught the scent of smoke.
He looked over his shoulder just in time to see the battlefield go up in flames.
Those Revenants unlucky enough to be close to the glowing, floating orb ignited almost immediately. The fire spread in a steadily growing radius around the orb, heedless of the pouring rain as it devoured everything in its path.
Davon tore his gaze away and put on an extra burst of speed. He was almost at the gate, but he could feel himself boiling beneath his clothes.
“Open the gates!” Davon shouted between panicked breaths. “OPEN THE DAMN GATES!”
The stench of smoke and burning flesh reached Davon, combined with the terrified screams of those who couldn’t escape the fire. His panic devolved further into utter desperation. Reaching the gates, he failed to stop in time and slammed full-force into them.
As other Revenants reached the wall, the gates began to open with a lurch. Every second spent waiting was agony. The gates moved with terrifying slowness. More and more Revenants piled into the space, pushing through before the opening was truly wide enough to admit them.
Davon ducked behind the city’s wall as soon as he made it inside and sank down to the ground. The screams from beyond the wall slowly dissipated, taking Davon’s panic with them. His breathing began to regulate.
Then he thought of his companions, and a surge of terror rose up to choke him.
“Lyla? Kai?” Davon called out, his voice dripping with desperation. “LYLA! KAI!”
Pushing himself back onto his feet, Davon stumbled through the reeling crowd, looking for his companions.
“Davon, here!”
Lyla’s voice reached Davon’s ears, sending a wave of relief through his exhausted mind. The relief vanished when he turned to see Lyla staggering towards him, dragging a heavily wounded Kai along the ground. Her words came out in a shriek.
“Help me!”