Pounding rang in the ears of thirty thousand men on the walls of Enna Aignech. Pounding on the drums of the giants. Pounding of fifty thousand marching feet, and thunder of a storm in the distance that sat over the dark Mount Triune to the west.

Ruad’s army, now a hundred thousand strong, moved as one. He felt angry and powerful. This black mass felt like it was a giant limb, holding a giant sword that would crash down through this city, destroying it with one fell swoop.

Findtain, Tethra and Caer Omaith stood at the top of the tallest tower in Enna Aignech, surveying this black mass moving around the city. Almost surrounding it. To the east a brief battle raged and then ceased as the black mass overwhelmed the seemingly feeble opposition. These men had fought bravely and had killed three thousand before they were over run. “We will need to leave after today,” said Caer Omaith. “The city will fall, but it will be a hard-fought victory for Ruad. We must continue the exodus to Rochad before we do, or we will lose our families.”

The people of Enna Aignech had been leaving for two days already and making their way secretly through the hidden paths of Rechrainn forest. All that would be left was the army, who would hold the city as long as possible. Then they themselves would retreat into the forest, fighting as they retreated and ending up in Rochad in Athlethan.

This time the masses of dark soldiers poured over the walls like hot molasses over the edge of a boiling pot of treacle. Nothing could stop them. The forces of Enna Aignech were driven back slowly, by the lava like advance of the soldiers of Sennol Uathach. The brave soldiers of Enna Aignech fought silently, even though they fell in vast numbers under the swords of the warriors. The numbers were so vast that even though Ruad’s army lost so many, they were still overwhelming. Finally, after twelve days of retreating battle, the last of the soldiers retreated into the Rechrainn forest, and finally Ruad walked triumphantly into the throne room of Enna Aignech. The bright blue flags of the country of Muirthemne no longer flew, replaced by the black flag with the white sword strokes across its middle of the Deep Lands and its capital the black city. Its new ruler was Mac Roth, with his sub lords Amerghin and Ruad.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

For a time, war ceased, apart from the dark marauders who occasionally attacked the weakest parts of the borders of Rochad. Four cycles would pass and Tethra would often be seen on the tallest tower looking to the north. Wondering what had happened to Tuatha and hoping he would bring back the freedom that Riangbra had promised.

It was in Rochad that Devorgill became pregnant and Tethra and Devorgill had twins, a girl and a boy named Mairghread and Fillan. The girl was well known, and her name was affectionately shortened to Mags. They grew up in Rochad over the four cycles of peace. Once old enough, they went to the city of Athlethan to begin their schooling.

Muirthemne was drained of all goodness, and those who stayed were made to farm and produce for Ruad’s invading army. Any child over thirteen was ordered to train in the army, but many defected and ran to the refuge of Rochad. The Triune gas used on the people turned their minds over to the fear of the punishment that awaited any who were reported as not doing what their commander ordered. A generation of children grew up not knowing anything different to the harsh ruler that had removed the name Muirthemne from the map of the Inner World. Many retreated to the safety of Athlethan, where the forest functioned as a natural barrier to the fear and death that lay on the other side.