The battle for his side of the gatehouse lasted only for about ten more minutes, yet they seemed to stretch to infinity as he burned through all but one dawnshard in a constant struggle to deflect, strike, parry, evade, push, shove and ultimately, weave in casts whenever he could.
The Middles hadn’t been idle in the few minutes that Arakiel and the two Thaumaturges had given them, having not only managed to gain mage support, but also more or less reorganize their structure.
Arakiel’s surprise evocation had caused damage, but not as much as he had hoped since some kind of water mage doused his flames not long afterwards. He had used this counter play with a counter of his own, wielding the thunderous side of his air magic for the first time.
The small arcs of golden lightning had struck true, causing sizable damage to the drenched soldiers, yet a Middle Earth Evoker that hid somewhere in the dark had flung several sizable rocks against the door which had been enough to finish the work that the axemen had started, effectively causing the door to break down, right after which the Middles had given the order to advance and charge.
Arakiel had met them with flame, lightning and light of gold and with the help of Asha and Shahar, they had actually managed to stall the attackers long enough for them to call the retreat as the Smokeless Host’s soldiers encroached from the side.
Still, these six or so minutes that Arakiel had spent fighting Middle after Middle had been some of the most intense he had ever fought. He took multiple hits, even a few light injures and countless bruises and if Shahar hadn’t constantly called out danger, things would’ve ended much, much worse. In fact, he would’ve most likely been overwhelmed or just straight up died.
But so, the three held their side of the gate; admittedly under great duress, but it worked out.
Aurora only had to intervene once but it had been a crucial moment, indicating that she had learned as well. In that critical moment where she accelerated his time, two Middles were just about to break through and storm inside.
His sudden, explosive burst, for he coupled the time acceleration with his fire alteration, had been enough to catch his enemies off-guard and while he killed both soldiers, he had paid quite the price for it as well.
But, despite his fatigue and wounds, he had carried on and when the relief finally arrived, he, Shahar and Asha just collapsed on the spot.
A captain of a banner of some of the elite infantry troops hurried over to him, inquiring whether he was alright. In that exact moment, Mellia’s true healing pulse kicked in once more and he could reply with some confidence that he was on the mend as he rose under some strain and with Aurora’s help.
They had burned through five shards, but still had all of Aurora’s soul and so far, the buffs were still in place. He reassured the soldier and then sent him on his way, after which he briefly checked on Shahar and Asha who had no restorative magic to help them.
The Astral Thaumaturge eyed Arakiel and after some muttering, he ended up calling him a monster-in-gold, but not in a derogatory way. He noted that it was no wonder that Sultan Zimraan had chosen such a man as his Lord Executor, for Arakiel's broad access to spells and elements defied all they knew. In this way, he was truly divine, just like a Divine Envoy should be.
Their praise pleased Arakiel, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he thanked the two for their service and then briefly checked on the hostage, who had crawled into a corner where she hugged her knees while sobbing quietly.
The girl hadn’t even bothered to unstrap her shield and he could tell that her will to fight had been broken. Nonetheless, he ended up shackling her in case she regained some courage while Aurora assured the girl that her leg wouldn’t scar, not that she seemed to register.
Afterwards, the two headed over towards the other side of the gatehouse where Akili and Aisha had regrouped on the ground floor. Both looked unharmed and unlike Arakiel, no blood stained their clothes. Outside on the wall, he saw quite a few bodies lying about, most of which seemed only barely alive. In here, it smelled of burnt flesh.
Aisha handed Arakiel a glass potion with a translucent liquid, stating it’d help him. He took it, chugged it, and winced at its bitterness, to which Aurora offered a lighthearted comment about medicine needing to taste bitter.
He wondered where she had picked it up, but it greatly alleviated him that she seemed fairly detached from all the death around them.
Akili then summarized the early stage of their assault while the Enchanters emerged from their hiding place.
Mellia hurried over towards him, worriedly asking whether her ‘brother mine’ was well. He lightly ruffled her hair through her hood in response, causing a slightly angry but cute noise to resound.
The male jinnum then outlined that the Smokeless Host was pouring into the city as they spoke. An entry had been secured and while Middle resistance was above expectations, he hadn’t heard of any casualties yet but the fighting was only just starting.
Arakiel acknowledged the report and then announced his intention of joining the fray once more. Mellia did not discourage him, but told him to be careful in her roundabout way while the jinnum siblings nodded with acknowledgment.
Aurora gently caressed his barely injured hand and then they set out.
Outside, he heard the clashes of steel, the shouts and the impact of arrows and other projectiles much more vividly.
Over there, down in the streets, the Smokeless Host was fighting while much further in the back, over there near the bonfires that he couldn’t make out, no one sang anymore. Insults, shouts for backup and orders to push and advance had taken its place.
Akili suggested they circle around as he could wreak the greatest damage among the enemies if he got into a good, flanking position, especially if he had the high ground or the enemy didn’t see his attack coming.
Aisha, still ablaze in yellow fire beneath her dark clothes, pointed towards the tower where the first warning fire had lit up. From there, they should be able to circle around and meet the enemy force from the side.
None objected and they began to advance on the walls that the Middles had apparently given up.
They walked over more than dozen burnt bodies, some of which were not yet corpses, but they might be soon.
Since they were no immediate threat, Arakiel paid them no mind and when the obstacles were finally gone, the small group of four turned into a sprint and when two Middle soldiers peeked out from inside the tower, they were met with a small ray of orange flame alongside an arrow that was shot with unnatural precision and force. Both dropped dead right away, yet they had no intention of entering the tower.
Instead, the small group sought to hurry down the stairs off of the wall, but it was too dark and all sources of light had been extinguished down there.
Aisha and Arakiel called for a pause at the same time while Aurora, on her own volition, conjured a golden orb of radiating light that she beckoned to follow Arakiel.
He took it and lobbed it down onto the streets, where they suddenly heard curses in addition to arrows being loosened.
Aurora winced and cried out while covering her head, but in doing so, she caused a brief but potent dome-like swirl of golden wind to form around them, long enough to knock the arrows out of the air while Akili and Aisha returned their welcome in kind.
Arakiel went ahead and met a Middle man that charged up the stone stairs, his cry a mixture of bravado, anger and misplaced heroism.
Unfortunately for the man, he left himself wide open with his intended overhead swing of some massive two-handed weapon. A simple, flame-boosted slash of Arakiel’s scimitar was all it took to break through the badly-made chainmail around his neck and although it stopped his head from being severed, it did not stop the black blade from going all the way through to the bone.
Arakiel kicked the ‘hero’ down the stairs while the jinnum had killed the other people that had been in hiding.
They pressed on without delay, but not before Arakiel reassured himself that Aurora was not only fine, but that she had done well. She gave him a kiss in return, seemingly uncaring for the blood on his clothes.
Down in the streets, he picked up her light and they proceeded through deserted, winding streets past little cottages that were little more than a collection of wooden planks with dirty, thatched roofs. He doubted that one could properly jump from roof to roof, which was a shame. It would’ve sped up their tempo quite a bit.
The small group was ambushed twice before they reached one of the larger streets, yet the opposing militia, for they weren’t actual-armed soldiers certainly hadn’t expected the kind of caliber that Aisha, Arakiel and Akili ended up being.
Rods of iron or rakes weren’t proper tools to fight fire mages.
On that larger street past the slums, Arakiel saw one of the squares in the distance. There, the citizens of Irialswell had begun to built palisades from the tables and he also saw people coordinating there, trying to create more obstacles while bringing anything that one could use as a weapon.
Judging by the sounds, the main confrontation was a few more streets to the side, so they ended up slipping and hurrying through and across some alleys and more streets until they arrived at a well-cobbled road where lots of lights allowed for relatively good sight.
He pocketed Aurora’s light to not draw any attention.
To the left, Arakiel saw armored Middle soldiers with their backs to them. They were slowly driven back while to the right, he spotted more palisades being constructed as a means to potentially stall the invaders.
All around him, people were shouting and the sounds of steel and projectile meeting all sorts of surfaces, whether they be metal, wooden or fleshy, permeated the air. It was known and familiar by this point.
Akili asked for a little time and since their opponents hadn’t yet spotted them, Aisha only shot at those who might spot them right away.
Arakiel kept close while watching their surroundings to ensure that no one got the drop on them as they got the drop on the enemy.
The male jinnum drew in orange fire once again but unlike last time, he didn’t condense it. He just gathered it and when he had created a ball twice the size of his head, he dipped his staff’s top end into it and then swirled it around like a sling would a piece of rock. He ended up flinging the fireball over towards the Middles while chuckling quite loudly.
Someone called out a warning, but it was too late.
The large ball of orange exploded right inside the clumped-together defenders and the effects on that troop’s morale were devastating.
Over a dozen or so people caught fire right away and began to scream at the top of their lungs as living torches, but the orange flames quickly spread and that, paired with the victims’ wails and screams, caused a panic which then led to a rout in one fell swoop. It paved the way for the Smokeless Host’s heavy infantry to push through and breach the defenders.
Akili, still chuckling, began to prepare another evocation as some Middles called out their position and just a few moments later, Arakiel and Aisha were battling lightly armored soldiers of Irialswell that tried to reach the Fire Evoker.
Again, he stalled his two melee opponents long enough for another ball of orange fire to travel its majestic arc towards the barricade in the distance, where it caused another rout as the hungry flames consumed wood, cloth and flesh alike.
Cheers and chants accompanied the scene, for the Smokeless Host praised the blood of Zimraan while further demanding justice for the Crimson Week. But some also praised the Lord Executor for enabling this momentous occasion and as some of the Smokeless Host’s soldiers passed by them, they raised their fists in greeting and as a show of respect.
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Arakiel and the other three watched the procession as Akili and Aisha were beginning to show genuine signs of fatigue, especially Akili who, despite being in an extremely good mood, gasped for air while leaning onto his staff for support.
Aisha didn’t fare much better as she caught her breath while leaning against a nearby wall. She had even pulled her hood back to breathe better.
Meanwhile, Arakiel felt more or less fine. In fact, the pain in his hand had just about subsided after Mellia’s fifth pulse which only heightened his evaluation of his little sister’s skills.
The jinnum noticed it as well, calling him truly blessed by the divine since he was still standing strong and tall despite having fought intensely over the past forty or so minutes.
As with the others, he wished them a speedy recovery and thanked them for their service after which he and Aurora set out, only to be intercepted by Basam that reported a successful first strike while further informing him that there was no sign of the duke or any nobles. In addition, scouts had reported that all sources of light had been extinguished in the noble’s district while the gates had been shut and sealed, effectively preventing the burghers from reaching the duke’s keep, which might be the only way to escape given its proximity to the water.
Arakiel ordered the lightly armored cavalry to ride out and watch the rivers for any escapees. If necessary, they were permitted to use alchemical bombs to sink the ships. Meanwhile, the skirmishers were to secure the town walls while the majority of the infantry spread the news that the nobles had forsaken their charges as a means to undermine morale.
A curfew was to be put in place and anyone breaking it twice would be killed with no exceptions.
Arakiel and Aurora then followed the Smokeless Host’s main force as it marched through the main street towards the noble’s district, going from square to square while smaller detachments were to secure some of the side roads and announce the new realities.
As reported, the keep and all the houses in the back of the city had truly gone dark and even as the Smokeless Host approached, there was no reaction at all.
It puzzled Arakiel, yet even when some brave warriors approached the closed and sealed gate, no attacks of any sort came.
The gatehouse was dark, there was no light whatsoever on the walls and a deathly silence had begun to blanket that part of the city. It made quite a stark contrast to the rest, which was not only wide awake and teeming with activity, but it also contained voices that kept repeating pleas to Duke Irial to deliver them.
Yet no deliverance came, only silence.
It puzzled him and everyone else around him, but the answer was quickly found among his warriors.
Not only were the nobles and Duke Irial cowards, they were also traitors who turned their backs on their people, leaving them to their fate in the hour of need.
This, in addition to the mere fact that the duke had apparently just retreated back behind his walls, would undoubtedly break the town’s morale rather quickly.
But Arakiel had no interest in only securing the city halfway. He needed to strike while the iron was hot and since the enemy hadn’t yet time to properly form an effective plan against his attack, that time was now!
As such, he ordered some of the elite warriors to join him on the walls and when his gaze looked over the dark stretch of blackness, he agreed with the snide remarks of his companions.
This dark, lightless portion of the city was a blight, a stain that told him and the Smokeless Host more about the Middle ruling class than anything else could ever do.
For all their strict hierarchies, the nobles and wealthy of this society, of this realm, cared not for those they ruled over, for those whose obedience they demanded.
He found it hilarious, for as far as he knew, they claimed their right to rule by a strict code of conduct, one that saw them at the top precisely because they could protect those they ruled over – and yet they had abandoned their charges on the first sign of danger.
He would never become such a cowardly ruler, nor was his House known for such cowardice. What House Alexandrite conquered, they held on to and if something was threatened to be lost, then it was negotiated away.
But this?
This was unacceptable.
It was the behavior of cowards and cowards deserved to be subjugated. They could never rule, could never demand respect or hold onto power.
To prove his men how a true Lord Executor ruled, he led the expedition into the darkened district which was soon illuminated by Aurora’s golden light.
It was almost surreal, seeing these luxurious homes abandoned at the first sight of danger and although it was quiet in here, it wasn’t due to some kind of spell for they could hear the rest of city as well as their own footsteps.
He and his people immediately headed for the gatehouse and when they found it abandoned, they could only heap more scorn onto the duke and his wealthy, supposedly-powerful men.
Two banners were already waiting outside and they began to head into the district, occasionally checking houses but none found a noble in hiding.
The jinnum siblings found him a little later. Together with them, he marched straight towards the duke’s keep that towered over the noble’s district in an almost eerie way given the lack of moonlight: this big massive block of stone that locked out a good portion of the nearly starless sky. Once he and the others reached the entrance, they noticed that the bridge had been pulled up.
The keep was further secured by a sizable moat and given its defiant construction, Arakiel doubted that they could easily make their way inside.
But still, he heard no sign of life from inside. It was almost bizarre. No, not almost. It was.
Only one reason seemed likely at this point, and just when their small group had finished discussing the matters, a loud sound could be heard in the distance, behind the keep… on the river.
Arakiel immediately ordered all free units to back up the cavalry that was most likely fighting outside but right after having given the order, he felt as though something wasn’t quite right, especially when he watched his man slip back into the darkness.
No, something was absolutely wrong here.
If they had just wanted to flee, there would’ve been no need to…
As if struck by lightning, he reached for his last remaining dawnshard and tapped the white while focusing onto a specific sigil. As soon as the golden rune with a heavy white tinge appeared, he grabbed it and slapped it into his throat, after which he called out with all his might.
“WARRIORS OF THE SMOKELESS HOST, WATCH OUT FOR AN AMBUSH!”
And then, as if he had announced the event, he heard lots of cries all around him, shouting all in unison. “VENGEANCE for Boundary!”
Aisha let out a curse next to him while Aurora, whether out of instinct or split-second decision, folded her hands in prayer as she began to flare up in golden flames while spreading her wings wide.
From one moment to another, Arakiel felt himself taking on Aurora’s aspect.
And then his own time accelerated and through it, he became aware of how critical this situation had gotten in the span of a mere moment.
In a half circle behind them, from all manner of hiding places since the noble houses were apparently full of nooks and crannies, mages and archers had reared their heads. Their hands to be more precise, hands that were about to unleash death onto them.
They did so in slow motion, but only for a brief moment.
His first priority concerned Aurora and even as he instinctively charged towards her, he focused onto the concept of ‘space’ in combination with ‘projection’ and ‘travel’. He hadn’t yet made a sigil for blinking since it used up so much astral energy, but this was an exception.
He grabbed his praying seraphim by the waist with one hand while his other hand tapped the golden sigil that had thankfully formed in time, despite his mind lagging behind.
The blink of an eye.
Arakiel’s surroundings changed and he put her down. The whole event was probably extremely uncomfortable for her, given how fast he must appear, but it couldn’t be helped.
Behind him, Aisha, Akili and some of the warriors with them tried to dash for safety, with the elite warriors willingly shielding the jinnum siblings.
Arakiel, however, saw no direct way to help him and instead locked eyes with a male mage slightly above him, a Water Evoker that was about to unleash several icicles.
His body moved on its own and in a moment, he had jumped against a wall in order to use it as a springboard to reach the roof of a small oriel. From there, he jumped the mage, burying his dagger into the man’s neck right as Aurora’s spell waned.
Time’s flow returned to its intended stage and all around him, voices were raised and all manner of sounds happened, be they arrows loosened, elemental projectiles being flung or just Arakiel’s dagger rending the mage’s flash.
His mind immediately focused onto a fire evocation and he grabbed and threw it while turning around, aiming just from memory.
The golden orb connected with an archer that had hid behind another oriel’s slightly heightened railing. The man cried out as he burst into golden flames and in his panic, he fell from the roof.
Below him, a dashing Akili continuously created waves of orange around him as a means to lessen or even destroy projectiles, but it was a panic move that he couldn’t sustain for long. The fact that he had just sent out a ray indicated that he hadn’t panicked in full, though.
Meanwhile, Aisha had moved out of Arakiel’s sight, but the four remaining warriors were suffering badly as freshly growing lunged forth out of the earth, binding them in place while sharp jets of water and icicles bombarded them from many different angles.
Arakiel called for a retreat as he drew upon his last shard’s gold to send out a blinding flash of golden light right after which he dropped Aurora’s aspect.
He jumped down into the alley and picked up his aurea, noticing that basically all of her fire was gone, the time-accelerating enchantment once again having taken her all.
Arakiel still had four-fifths of her fire remaining, though.
He vanished into the alley, but soon found himself hunted by a nature and a water mage.
The noble’s alleys were too wide, but some of the houses’ gardens were relatively overgrown and winding. After a brief chase, he realized that he wouldn’t be able to get away as long as he had to carry Aurora, which made him wait in ambush as a man dressed in a multilayered luxurious vest came into range.
The lighting wasn’t the best, but he could see the man’s outline well enough.
Arakiel’s lunged forth, his arms and legs heightened by his seraphim’s flame and with the moment of surprise on his side, he wounded the mage who did manage to raise his arms in defense at the last possible moment.
It cost the noble both arms, but Arakiel didn’t have time for a followup attack when an icicle pierced his side, sending a freezing, jolting shock through him.
He instinctively took on Aurora’s aspect once more, drawing upon her fire to form a sigil that he snatched out of the air in a wide arc.
Through it, he called forth several bursts of gilded fire that met a second wave of incoming icicles, causing several hisses to resound in addition to steam appearing from the evaporated water.
He dropped the aspect and then charged forward through the thin clouds, but was met with darkness and when another icicle suddenly pierced from an angle he didn’t expect, he cursed out aloud as he took on his aurea’s aspect once more.
He let himself fall onto the ground out of instinct and only when Aurora suddenly called out a position did he notice the outline of a woman that circled around him at a surprisingly fast pace.
In just a moment, he would lose track of her.
With no other way, he once again focused onto a blink and, using up nearly all of his remaining flame, he appeared right next to the Water Evoker and, clenching his fist, struck her with all the power he could muster.
His fist connected with her abdomen in full momentum and he held against it, causing her to groan only once as her arms and legs kept the momentum going until they realized that the torso had been stopped mid-motion.
She did not rise, but he went down on her and struck her head twice just to be sure.
He forced himself to not look at the woman lest he be tempted to take her along solely because he had been the one to overpowered her by power alone.
But he had much bigger fish to fry – or rather, freeze.
His body began to grow numb from the icicles stuck in him and these things were sharp and pointy enough that they pierced the finely woven mail.
He ripped them out which hurt so much that he couldn’t stop himself from crying out which turned out to be a blessing when a pair of friendly warriors clad in back found him. They looked to be skirmishers, but it was hard to tell from their black hoods, but they had round shields.
He told them to back up those who had been ambushed, but the two men reassured him that the warriors of the Smokeless Host weren’t defeated so easily.
One of the men grabbed him and pulled him to his feet, asking him where the leader was as they had orders to protect him from the vile Middles.
Arakiel feigned a weak voice and pointed over towards the alley he had come from and when one of the two cloaked men turned around, Arakiel reached for his dagger and plunged it into neck of the ‘soldier’ that had helped him up right as that person buried his own dagger in Arakiel’s side.
Without further ado, he used that man’s straight sword and rammed it all the way through the other Middle that had tried to dupe him.
Then, he fell onto his knees and held his bleeding side while his body continued to grow numb through the cold that kept creeping throughout him at an accelerated pace.
If only Ezekiel had been here, then this wouldn’t have happened.
He managed to curse his partner-in-crime once more before he suddenly fell over, Mellia’s enchantment having long since faded.
Arakiel fought against the coming darkness with all he had, but to no avail.
While his mind and will were still standing strong, his body had found its limit.
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