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Song of the Crests
Chapter 18- Battle at Dawn

Chapter 18- Battle at Dawn

Calahan stood on the outer wall looking towards the Castle, the tip of his thumb in his mouth as he bit his nail in frustration. Tasting blood, he angrily took his hand away. It had been a week since Godric had taken his warriors and never returned, leaving only questions and rage. Without Godric and his warriors, the siege of the inner castle had come to a standstill, his men unable to breach the walls. As the number of days started to add up, the zealous confidence of his soldiers began to crumble, whispers of desertion becoming rampant.

Knowing that his state of mind was affecting his judgment, Calahan clenched his hands together, trying to feel the presence of his god. The longer he stood there, the louder the silence felt, the stinging pain in his thumb the only presence. This is another test from Alumus, he told himself. Evil cannot be allowed to win.

Reaching into his pocket, he once again read the message he had received from Lord Bovera, his mood souring even more. We will send aid once you take the inner wall. Until then, we cannot help.

Gritting his teeth in resentment, Calahan ripped the message into pieces, snarling as he scattered them off the wall. Watching the pieces scatter, he felt his vision start to tunnel. He was once again cornered, once again left with only one choice. He had to take the inner walls tomorrow—no matter the sacrifice.

Feeling the all too familiar darkness narrowing his vision, he yelled, startling the soldiers near him. “Call all Pillars to me! Have them meet me in the council room. NOW!”

“Sir!”

Marching quickly to the council room, Calahan felt his face harden with resolve, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes. I have no choice. This is the only option left. Waiting for his men, he started to pace around the room, the prayer to Alumus sounding more and more like a spell he madly muttered under his breath.

By the time he had repeated the prayer for the fifth time, the Pillars started to enter, each one looking around before taking a seat.

Continuing to pray until the last Pillar shuffled in, Calahan spoke. “I have received a message from Alumus himself. Tonight, have all the men eat what food we have left, and rest. Tomorrow before first light, we attack with everything we have. As long as we keep our faith, Alumus has promised us victory. All that's left is our trust in our god. He has provided us with the opportunity to bring forth a Kingdom of Light! All we need to do is to grasp it!”

As Calahan’s words filled the room, he could feel the Pillars looking around at each other, their worried looks speaking volumes. They knew of the time restraints they were under, but gambling everything on a single assault was something no one wanted.

“I know you are worried but do not lose faith,” he stated, his body trembling with adrenalin. Now that he was acting, he felt a burst of energy. “I have heard the word of Alumus! We will bring His Divine Light to this Kingdom. Go, tell our soldiers the good news of tomorrow's victory. Tell them that tomorrow we will change this wicked land to a land of Paradise! Praise be the Divine Light. Praise be to Alumus!”

“Praise be the Divine Light!”

Feeling his heart burn with religious fire, Calahan raised his hands in the air.

“Let us pray! Let us show Alumus our determination!”

After praying with his Pillars, Calahan watched as they all filed out, most of them sharing the same energy he felt. The prayer had the effect he wanted, it had revitalized their determination and hammered down the importance of their mission.

Once alone, he knelt, falling once again into a deep prayer. The deeper he prayed, the more he realized that every struggle and obstacle he had encountered was part of the bigger plan. Without all the pain he would not be here, he would not be placed in a situation where he would bring forth a new age of Light. Shivering at the power of Alumus, he lost himself in prayer.

A couple of hours before sunrise, Calahan stood up, face full of determination. Walking over to a bowl of water, he carefully washed his face, rinsing off the sweat and tears that covered it. Drying his face slightly, he looked into the mirror, making sure he was presentable. Satisfied with what he saw, he stepped outside.

The outside air was cold, the stillness of the night a prelude to the violence that was to come. Feeling the cold air kiss his damp face, he straightened his clothes, his mind no longer harboring the worries and fears he had hours ago. The time had come!

Marching to the section of the wall overlooking a courtyard, Calahan saw his army standing in formation. All of them looked well-fed and rested, their clean and burnished armor creating a dark patch in the night. If they were standing in the sunlight, he was positive that the light reflecting off them would blind him. In darkness, we look like shadows. But in light, we shine brighter than any torchlight, he thought. It is a sign from Alumus!

Clearing his throat, he stepped forward. “Today is the day that will determine the future of this Kingdom,” he began. “I, like all of you, was born in this Kingdom. I grew up, surrounded by love, and happiness, protected by my family and by Alumus.”

A cheer went up. Raising his arms, Calahan waited for the crowd to settle down before continuing. “However, it was not all good, as I grew older, I noticed the distrust and ridicule I received everywhere I went. I was always placed second, never good enough to be given a true chance. But I worked hard. I joined the army and rose in the ranks. I thought—no, I believed that I had finally earned the respect that I so deserved. But I was wrong. I was only tolerated due to my ability to kill. My character, beliefs, and ideals were never taken into consideration. I was just a weapon—a weapon to throw at the enemy!

“Then one day, King Alfred married a believer of Alumus. Although she was a commoner, she showed us how strong we could be. She showed us how it was our right to walk with our heads held high, how it was our right to tell the world we loved Alumus! In that short moment in time, I saw hope for our future. I admit there were still conflicts between us and Gera, but I knew we could work it out and build our Kingdom into a strong peaceful place.”

Anger crept into Calahan’s voice. “But I was wrong! When the Queen was unjustly executed, the Heretics of Gera turned on all Followers of the Divine Light, blaming us for the incompetence of the Salizian Royal Family. They hunted us in the streets—tearing and burning down our Holy Statues. The anger directed towards Alumus was beyond anything I have ever seen. They punished every single man, woman, and child because they could not punish the Royal Family. They punished us because they did not see us as equals. They punished us because they did not see us as humans!”

Angry yells filled the courtyard.

“I, like all of you, know or have family members who have been unjustly imprisoned, know of businesses burned down, sons and daughters beaten in the streets and killed,” Calahan was shouting now, losing himself in his speech. “Yet the Royal Family did nothing to protect us! They blamed us! Now, the traitorous Generals, Khan and Zacheri want to remove our God’s statue and replace it with one of Gera!

“I will not stand for that! I will not allow that to happen! Today we right the wrongs done to us! Today we fight for our Kingdom! Today we take the Royal Castle and bring forth a New Era—an Era in which we can all feel the warmth of the Divine Light without persecution! Today we fight!”

A great roar of clapping and cheering filled the silent night, the sounds reverberating off the stone walls. Drawing his sword, Calahan felt the cold handle in his palm. Gripping it hard, he lifted it above his head.

“Fall into formation! March to our future! Fight for our family and Alumus!”

A great crescendo of voices erupted from the rebel forces. As one they moved forward like a great wave, Calahan leading the way.

Standing in front of the inner gate, Calahan knew there would be no tactics today. They would either brute-force their way to the castle or break against its wall. Taking a deep breath, he swung his sword forward.

“CHARGE!”

Groups of men holding ladders led the charge, backed up by a hail of suppressing arrows. On the outskirts of the army, specialized soldiers swung long ropes with grappling hooks attached to their ends. Their task was to find unguarded sections of the wall and climb up, establishing small footholds.

“ARCHERS!”

Calahan heard the warning call as the defenders retaliated, launching volleys of deadly arrows at them. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated, drawing Aether through his Black Eagle Crest on his shoulder to his core. Rotating the power from his core to the rest of his body, he felt his muscles grow larger. Filled with Aether, he started to emit a dark purple light from his Crest, the light forming into a translucent Black Eagle.

In this state, Calahan could see the individual arrows flying toward him, almost as if they were moving in slow motion. Using his inhuman speed and reflex, he deflected the arrows with his sword, each arrow falling to the ground. Unfortunately, some of his men were not as skilled, one soldier took an arrow to his eye and collapsed to the ground. The battle was in full swing.

Standing at the back of the chaotic battle, Calahan scanned the wall, looking for Arcane Light. There! And there! Quickly he spotted patches of dull light in the darkness. “Aim at the lights!” he commanded, pointing to where they were coming from. “Kill the Pillars!”

In war, it was common practice to focus on the Arcane Knights and Lords that were leading the army, the Arcane Light emitting off them a dead giveaway.

Letting most of his power go, Calahan let the Arcane Light fade before sprinting in the direction of a battering ram that was slowly rolling toward the gate. Deflecting an arrow that almost hit a soldier running next to him, he wished he had more Aether but knew better. He did not want to draw unnecessary attention to himself.

Some warriors, such as Lord Leora were known for never letting their Arcane Light fade in battle. He was someone who forced the whole battlefield to revolve around him—a blinding light within the chaos. But Calahan fought differently, he liked to run from key point to key point, exploding with power, and then disappear. For someone who could not draw massive amounts of Aether for hours, it was the smart thing to do.

Reaching the battering ram, Calahan flung himself at it, feeling his muscles groan as he pushed. Straining, he slowly put one foot in front of the next.

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“Push! Push!”

The volley of arrows grew thicker as the battering ram slowly moved, the soldiers around him shouting and screaming with every step.

As the battering ram rolled beneath the inner wall’s shadow, Calahan scanned the walls, calculating to see if most of the defenders were obstructed from view. Yes! He was mostly hidden from the view!

Satisfied with his position, he pulled at the Aether hungrily, Arcane Light billowing off him. As Arcane Light lit up his surroundings, he shouted.

“PUSH!”

The battering ram that had been creeping along just a moment ago picked up speed, closing the last distance in the blink of an eye. With a thunderous boom, the gate shook as the battering ram smashed into it, the loud bang causing everyone to cheer.

“Break down the gate!”

The soldiers pushing the battering ram started to chant, swinging the heavy log back and forth, rhythmically slamming the weapon into the gate.

“Heave-ho, heave-ho!”

“Concentrate arrows on the wall! Above the gate! Don't let them drop boiling oil on us!”

“General!”

Turning his head, Calahan saw one of his men run to him.

“One of our Grapplers made it to the top of the wall—on the left side. We need your help to secure the foothold.”

Nodding in understanding, Calahan shouted to the men around him. “Keep pushing! Break the door down!”

Turning back to the man, he nodded. “Lead the way!”

Grabbing a fallen shield, and lifting it over his head, Calahan followed the man, panting from the exertion of battle—fighting without Aether was tiring.

As he moved, he risked a glance at the horizon, calculating how long it would take for the sun to fully rise.

The morning sun was just starting to peek out from behind the horizon, with hues of red, orange, and yellow, mixing with the blue sky. In less than minutes, the sun would be fully visible.

Knowing it would be easier to hide Arcane Light once the sun rose, he steadied his breath as he saw a group of five soldiers standing back-to-back with each other. They were defending a rope that was attached to the top of the wall.

“MOVE, MOVE.”

Pushing a soldier who was about to climb up the rope, Calahan grabbed the rope. Drawing deeply on the Aether, he let his body fully drink in its explosive power, his muscles screaming with intensity.

As his aura condensed into that of Black Eagle, he pulled on the rope and jumped up at the same time, his body shooting upwards.

Hands barely touching the rope, he flew up, his body reaching the top of the wall in seconds.

Landing on the top of the wall, he threw himself at the defenders, cutting into the startled men, the risen sun shining behind him.

Fully risen, the sun was like a beacon of hope blinding the defenders on the wall. Knowing his Arcane Light was no longer as eye-catching, Calahan fought without worry. “Push them back!” he yelled, kicking an Arcane Warrior off the wall.

Creating a small area around him, he allowed more and more of his men to climb up, the defenders forced back by the aggressive swings of his sword.

Standing on the wall, he felt the righteous flame of Alumas burn hotter and hotter in his soul. “I am the flame of Alumus!”

Raising his sword, he heard his men cheer.

Smiling ear to ear, he turned to his men. “I need ten of you to follow me. The rest of you protect the soldiers climbing the ladders,”

“Yes Sir!”

“Let’s go!”

Followed by ten soldiers, Calahan cut his way to the stairs, his sword moving in deadly, but hypnotizing arcs.

“Stay together! Don't let them swarm us! Keep moving!”

Reaching the stairway, he saw a group of defenders at the bottom, their spears pointed at him. They had created a wall of spikes preventing them from going down. I don’t have time for this, he thought. Without slowing down, he grabbed a dead soldier. Using the power from the Aether, he hurled the body down the stairs.

With a loud crash, the body collided with the defenders, yells of surprise and pain coming from the mouths of the soldiers.

Jumping past the tangled men, he ignored everyone and ran past them toward the gate. I need to open the gate! My men will take care of the fallen soldiers.

Reaching the gate, he saw a group of soldiers desperately fortifying the damaged gate—their backs were turned to him.

Teeth bared in a snarl, Calahan swept down on them like a hurricane, his body moving like a force of nature, cutting, stabbing, ripping at them. In no time at all, the gateway was splattered with blood, bodies spread around like old garbage.

Stabilizing his shaking arms, he turned to his men who had just caught up. Out of the ten who had followed him, only four were left.

“You four! open the gate, I’ll keep the reinforcements at bay,” he commanded.

“Yes Sir!”

As the four rushed to open the gate, Calahan stood with his back to them—sword in hand.

“YOU HAVE TO KILL ME IF YOU WANT TO PASS!”

The panicking defenders charged at him in a dead run, their voices echoing around him.

“STOP THEM FROM OPENING THE GATE! KILL HIM!”

Feeling his body start to protest from the excess use of Aether, Calahan clashed with the defenders, his body slowing down from the exhaustion of battle. Stepping out of the way of a clumsy spear thrust, he grunted as he cut the soldier’s head off—jumping back in frustration as a second soldier took his place.

Breathing heavily, he kept his sword up. He was not a defensive warrior, he was known for his ability to explode with short intense power, but this time he had to buy as much time as possible.

Surrounded by enemy soldiers, he stood blocking the way to the gate, deflecting and parrying the coordinated attacks from the frantic soldiers. Ideally, he would hold the swarm of soldiers until his men opened the gate, but the reality was different. The goal of the defenders was not to kill him but to get past him. After limiting his movements with several spearmen, the remaining defenders charged past him, running for the men trying to open the gate.

“Alumus burn you!”

Feeling his heart sink, Calahan kept fighting. He had to get to his men before they were crushed against the gate they were trying to open. Muscles burning, he kept swinging, this was not how he was going to die! This was not how his crusade was going to end! Alumus help me!

As he thought those words, a deafening boom came from the gate as it tore open, a flood of soldiers rushing in—an endless stream of believers.

“For the Light!”

Tears appeared in Calahan’s eyes as he saw the wave of men, the momentary pause causing him to almost take a spear to the chest. Clumsily deflecting the stab, he laughed out loud. Alumus had not forsaken him!

Like a wave, the Alumus soldiers pushed the defenders back, sacrificing their lives in a frenzied rush towards the castle, each soldier feeling the Divine Light burning in his chest.

Watching his soldiers push deeper past the inner wall, Calahan smiled as their momentum carried them to the castle. He was exhausted but felt a great calm wash over him. The battle would soon be over.

Removing his blood-covered gloves, he sat down, feeling the blood turn sticky and then dry. Sitting there, he carefully let the Aether dissipate from his body, his shoulders slumping down. I need to help my men deal with Todo, but I need a moment, he thought.

Before he had sat for more than a few seconds, a defining roar from outside the wall reached him. What was that? That came from the outer wall! There’s no way…

Quickly running up the staircase he had rushed down, Calahan looked toward the outer wall, his stomach dropping as he saw what was causing the noise.

A massive army flying the flags of multiple Great Lords had flanked his troops, driving his panicking army in a mindless rush toward the open gate. Cursing out loud, he ran to the gate. He had to take control of his men! If they kept running for the gate like that, they would end up trampling and suffocating each other!

How did Hector and the Great Lords rally their troops so fast? he wondered, pushing past his men. According to the last report he had received, the Leora and Baura army had just arrived, while the Nazau and Ruscell armies should have taken another full day—half a day at the earliest to reach the capital. Yet all their flags flew!

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts he could only think of one solution, both Nazau and Ruscell had marched all night to get there!

“General, what should we do? We are being flanked!”

Turning to see a Pillar covered in blood run up to him, Calahan shook his head.

“We still have a chance. If Nazau and Ruscell marched all night, they would be exhausted—at least a third of the army is in no shape to fight!”

“General, our army has broken, even if we still have the numbers, our soldiers have fallen to fear. They are running away!” the Pillar protested, face white.

Knowing the Pillar was correct, Calahan clenched his teeth before he raised his voice, his power-enhanced voice piercing through the clamor of battle.

“TURN AROUND! HOLD THE LINE! FIGHT! FIGHT! RALLY TO ME!” Forcing his way to the gate he continued to yell, his empowered voice reverberating off the walls.

“TURN AROUND! RALLY TO ME!”

But it was too late, the panicked soldiers were deaf to his voice. Desperately, trying to turn the tide of battle, he uselessly kept shouting into the flood of fear.

“RALLY TO ME!”

“CALAHAN!”

An Arcane-fueled voice split the sea of panicking soldiers.

The chaos paused momentarily as soldiers started to push each other out of the way, creating an empty circle with Calahan in the center. Facing the gate, Calahan watched as Prince Hector, Lord Leora, and Lord Baura stepped into the circle, all three of them radiating waves of Arcane Light.

“DAMNED TRAITOR!” Lord Baura’s rage-filled voice shook the surroundings, his blood-covered face looking demonic in the flames of Arcane Light that surrounded him.

Putting his hand on Lord Baura’s shoulder, Prince Hector stepped forward, locking eyes with Calahan.

“House Salizia has always been good to you. Why have you betrayed us?” he coldly asked.

“Prince Hector, I have nothing but respect for you,” Calahan replied, a sense of stillness washing over him. “I have looked up to you. You have shown me nothing but trust and kindness. I will forever be grateful to you. But I cannot say that the trust and kindness you have shown me extend to my fellow Alumus believers. I will not be used as an excuse for you to ignore the sufferings of my people. Just because I have a good life, does not mean that the rest of my people do. I am willing to throw it all away for the betterment of my people.”

Looking at Hector, Calahan raised his sword. “Our paths have always been different from the start. I will protect my people, even if I must turn my blade against you.”

Silence filled the area as Calahan pointed his sword at Prince Hector, both men staring at each other.

“The sin of my family is also my sin,” Hector quietly uttered, lifting his saber in his hands. “Calahan, it is not that I cannot understand your thoughts—and I cannot deny that your people have suffered, but you have crossed the line. I cannot forgive you.”

“And I do not ask for forgiveness, my Lord.” Calahan locked eyes with Hector’s. “I do have a request. No matter what happens, I hope that you do not take the anger you feel toward me and blame Alumus. Most of the Believers do not have anything to do with this. This is all my doing.”

The atmosphere seemed to deepen as the two stared at each other. “You have my word,” Prince Hector finally relented, his shoulders dropping slightly.

Seeing this, Lord Leora stepped forward.

“Prince Hector let me have the honor of fighting Calahan, do not stain your blade with the blood of someone that once looked up to you.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

The Aether around Lord Leora burst forth, what was once a small ember became a blazing fire, a great lion made of flames overlapping him.

“Calahan, I will have the honor of killing you!”

Feeling the pressure caused by the strongest Great Lord, Calahan also drew forth his full power, a screeching Black Eagle bursting from his crest.

“The honor is mine.”

The clash of two Arcane Lords split the morning light.

Lord Leora charged forth, his terrifying greatsword lashing out. Lion’s claw met Eagle’s talon, canine versus beak. Most soldiers could not keep up with the speed at which the two warriors fought, each strike and parry sending sparks into the new day.

Lord Leora raised his greatsword above his head, standing in the Stance of Power. Swinging down mightily, he instigated the first form of his House’s military art, Form One: Warlords Decree.

Knowing that he could not stop such a blow, Calahan stepped to the side, reinforcing his sword with power. Skillfully, he changed the path of the greatsword—Salizian military technique: Autumn Kiss.

Switching to offense, he countered with Winter’s Bite, which flowed into Falling Star—a horizontal slash aimed to cut Lord Leora from shoulder to hip.

Feeling his sword strike nothing, Calahan twisted his body as he jumped back, Lord Leora’s greatsword grazing his chest as it flew by. Grunting in frustration, he instantly rotated power to his chest, the wound slowly closing. Taking a deep breath, he drew more power into his body—this time to his legs. Shouting with all his might, he closed the distance between them, his sword outstretched—Salizian military technique: Boars Charge!

There was a loud clash as Lord Leora parried the thrust with his greatsword, immediately countering by stepping forth and thrusting back at Calahan. Cursing loudly, Calahan gasped as Lord Leora’s greatsword ran past his arm, leaving a devastating cut. Blood dripping down his arm, he deflected another blow as he backed up, his breath coming in raggedly.

As the two fought back and forth, Calahan knew he was outmatched, he was defending more and more, his injured arm hanging limply by his side. As the fighting reached its peak, Lord Leora changed stances—Stance of Speed, Second Form: Lighting’s Claw.

Lord Leora’s greatsword seemed to split in two as he struck twice—the first strike deflecting off Calahan’s sword, the second strike swinging around and connecting with Calahan’s temple on the other side.

There was a hush as Calahan crumpled to the floor, his head horizontally split in half.

The rebellion was over.