The Invasion of Zagliastrua chapter 1- How it started

Fifty-eighth Cycle of the Eighteenth Medriono

Archipelagos of Aedren, Zagliastrua’s Valley

The harsh morning sun was already beating down on the earth, promising a blistering hot day.

As soon as Leind stepped out of the tent, shared with his fellow soldiers, he immediately covered his eyes, shielding them from the bright sun.

"Damn Medriot, what a shitty day," exclaimed Hurd, one of his comrades, with his usual morning phrase, now a mantra for a few weeks. The man first looked up at the sky with a mournful gaze, which reflected his mood, and later spat on the ground.

Leind looked at his friend, as the latter was cursing at the wind, with a mist of pity and comprehension. After all, how could he, how could anyone blame the soldier?

They had traveled for a month, dividing the trip between nonstop marching and multiple boat rides that nearly ended in unplanned swims. Halting the march was only allowed when they could no longer move a muscle and collapsed in exhaustion. Then, because the pace was deemed too slow, they would be awakened in the middle of the night to do it all again. That had been their life for three, damn long, weeks.

Finally, they'd found themselves on those cursed winged wagons. Leind had never seen anything like them: huge carriages capable of holding over fifty people, pulled by two silver albatrosses.

They were as majestic as they were fucking uncomfortable!

Leind was absolutely certain that, had the coachmen been less skilled in the use of tornado essence, the carriages would have tipped over within four wing beats of the beast. Even though they'd made the journey safely, he would have gladly traded that half day of terrifying travel, for ten weeks of forced marching.

And to think that normally, there were people who paid to make such a trip to visit that country! What a joke...

Moreover, after this shitty experience would end, assuming he would have survived what awaited them, he would have had to do the same thing to go down!

That destiny was not for everyone, apparently, because some of the army leaders had made use of the portal net, which was too expensive to be used on multiple combat platoons. Lucky sons of bitches...

Finally, they arrived at Zagliastrua, one of the huge islands that loomed miles high in the sky, above the world. If someone had not told you to look up, nobody would have ever thought that ABOVE was an archipelago of floating islands, altogether practically one-third the size of the entire continent of Ksamin.

When he was a child and had been taught world geography, he had been amazed by that archipelago of islands suspended in the sky and had been curious about how that was possible. The answer then had been as simple as it was obvious, Essence. Now in hindsight, it made no fucking sense.

For starters, the discussion was divided on whether it was artificial or natural essence. This didn't add up both because the Aedren archipelago had been traced for thousands of years, and at the time artificial essence was not as developed as it was now, and even if it had been artificial essence it would have required an amount of essence too expensive for such a trick.

This left room only for natural essence, which was practically absurd! Such a large condensation of essence should also have created unnatural effects on the water surface as well as the land itself: fixed maelstroms should have been created under the islands that would have made navigation impossible while the land itself on the islands should have slowly crumbled, but none of these things had ever happened, not from natural causes at least.

The second thing he found absurd was the climate. The pressure, being so high up, should have been very weak. Leind well remembered climbing some of the peaks as part of his training to train his body to adapt to changes in pressure, which was kind of easy with the manipulation of the body's internal circulation. But the ratios were off the charts. First of all, the oxygen was not rarefied at all, it felt like being on any island at sea level, and above all, the pressure was little more than a peak with an altitude of four thousand feet. Considering the higher altitude, they were at, about fifty-thousand feet, it was very hard to believe that such a phenomenon was even possible.

Shaking his head Leind came to a very simple conclusion. Sometimes it was best to turn off the brain and take things for granted.

Do islands fly? Okay fuck it, let them fly wherever they want to.

As a matter of fact, what besieged Leind's mind was not that fucking flying island, and in the end, neither was that horrible journey.

What haunted his thoughts, as he was sure haunted the minds of every other one of his comrades in the platoon, or of any other person who had arrived, or learned of what awaited them on that island, was the coming of the Lords.

He remembered all too clearly the speech that started the whole situation, in which they now found themselves.

During the usual meeting of the platoon, their mentor, and general, the multi-decorated Londse had not minded pleasantries to go around the issue, pointing his black eyes at them and going straight to the point.

"Two of the seven are waging war on our society, the first sighting being in the village of Pirasta on the continent of Deloa, of which nothing remains now but a pile of rubble. Next was the island under the elven protection of Nindòl Fem, the few survivors are on their way to the second elven kingdom, which has graciously offered them shelter and protection. Our intel told us that next on the list are those gutless people in the government of Aedren. Precisely our sources aided by two haruspices from Deloa speculate an attack on Aetheriant via that patch of shit named Zagliastrua!"

A pause by the general in his speech. Leind could have sworn he saw tremors in that veteran's posture and tone.

At first, even that imperceptible gesture alone, had been enough to magnify the gloom that had begun to form in the young soldier's stomach. Londse was the strongest man Leind had ever known personally, a man capable of walking through a wall and breaking it while smoking his Dwarven cigar, which he was crazy about.

"They may be assholes but damn if they know how to make a man smoke!" he repeated every time he lighted one. All while crumbling magical beasts, assassins, constructions, or whatever threatened to interrupt that idyllic moment of his.

If a man of his caliber had been uncertain, even for a few seconds... what were THEY supposed to feel? What exactly was to befall the third battalion of the Ksaminian army?

The answer was in the few words that followed from his general's mouth, "That's where we and the armies of other countries will intercept those damn freaks."

A wave of protest immediately rose from all ranks, Leind himself was among them: Risk his life for the country? Of course! To face not one, but two Lords, with their army of monsters and warlocks on neutral ground? No thanks.

For two minutes indistinct shouts ensued, until Londse shouting with all the capacity of his lungs said, "SILENCE! This is not a request to go for a drink! This is an order! We are the protectors of this filthy continent we call a country and you have only two choices! Carry out these orders or abandon Ksamin to itself by choosing forced exile! Those who do not feel up to it are strongly urged to get off their asses, pack their bags and get the fuck out of here!"

The hall had suddenly turned into the quietest place Leind had ever been; it seemed as if time had frozen instantly.

The General continued his speech "I know full well what all this entails believe me, but if our sources are right, and they always are, these two monsters plan to destroy whatever supports those damn islands and make them fall down! If this happens the disasters that will follow will be devastating and not only the nearest parts of the continent but the whole of Ksamin as we know it will be in danger of disappearing!"

All of them were silent, petrified to examine the consequences of what their mentor was enunciating there before them, it seemed like an unreal nightmare, one of those things too strange to be true. But it was true...rumors had been circulating for a while and there were rumors of direct intervention, the point was the seriousness of the current circumstances and especially what they entailed...

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The general continued in his speech, "This is one if not THE worst of the most catastrophic events that have ever happened in all known ages. The risk is so high that each state has set aside its differences and sent part of its elite army along with part of its base army. Estimates of the arrival of the two monsters are for the end of Indranium, in fifty-five damned days. The bastards are massively massing troops and it would take the intervention of each of the states to try to stop what could be a worldwide catastrophe." he took a breath, and it was evident how much he was hating his speech, "Now...you have seven days. Choose well what to do because there will be no turning back, under any circumstances. I will be waiting for you at the Ishtin’s port, we will leave at five o'clock sharp, whoever does not arrive or does not join us will be considered an exile. For your personal information, five of Ksamin's seven elite battalions have been given, or will shortly be given, this speech. In addition, less than half of the basic army will remain to guard the country, the others will go like us so quit acting like babies, we are all on the same shitty boat. Seven days, Ishtin, five mornings on the dot…Now get the hell out of here."

It all happened so fast that Leind did not remember so sharply the days he had before leaving. He had the time to explain the situation to his family and prepare all the minimum necessities for the trip in the first few days. The last few days he had spent looking at the wall of his home and crying.

He was not proud of it, but it's hard to go to war when you know the chance of coming back is less than being hit by a meteorite while you're locked up looking for mushrooms in an underground cave... Every being who had ever opposed a Lord had ended up in the pit, exceptions to this were only the other Lords and a handful of individuals so powerful they could annihilate entire cities with a glance. Moreover, this attack would be done by no less than two of these monsters, and of course, each with its own army...the hopes of survival were practically reduced to zero. Nevertheless, Leind had not chosen exile, he did not trust the haruspices but the information that came from Ksamin's spy network? Yes, with every fiber of his mind and body.

If the two Lords would be successful in collapsing the islands, there would be no place or refuge to go, neither for his family nor for everyone else. That is why he had bought them a pass to go from the capital to the farthest point on the continent from that Archipelagos. If he was doomed to fail to prevent that catastrophe at least he would have put his every being in slowing down the event to give his loved ones more time to escape and thus give them a better chance of survival...

As he thought about all of this, his gaze was lost beyond the horizons of his camp, the sun had been up for a few hours and it must have been about early morning.

They had been there for five days now; Two of which they had been busy building encampments and minimum defense measures; The final three they had done nothing but train and scout the area, waiting for the enemies to arrive; So far nothing special had happened.

Two days ago reinforcements sent from Vernem had arrived and set up their camp near the reinforcement of Deloa, which had arrived earlier than Ksamin's army along with a small elven fleet.

Leind began to look around, each camp had been placed on a hilly part, and all of them were silhouetted above an immense valley, it was thought that the large valley itself would be the arrival point of the two Lords.

Staring at the vast space he was burdened with many questions. What if it was all miscalculated? What if the information had reached their net by the will of the Lords and all of this was only a death trap? Precautions had certainly been taken by each state, but many cities and towns were outside the protection of the army that remained with each of them. And what if other Lords had decided to join the two in their attack on the known civilization? He dared not think what might happen.

The flood of this thought was interrupted by his comrade Akser

"Leind! Dream a little more and maybe you will be able to wake up by the end of the day!" his smile showed white teeth that stood out against his darker skin.

A voice from behind immediately followed in response, "Leave him alone, he's probably imagining himself inside one of the Rashtos' tanks surrounded by his old friends from the academy! Heck, I wish I had his vivid imagination right now!" Hurd seemed to have left in that earlier morning spit the hint of sadness that grayed his expressions, and now he looked at Leind with a wide grin.

Jerks both of them, but a laugh escaped Leind anyway; it was good to have some optimism from his friends, even in this kind of situation.

"If only it were possible..." he replied with a slight grimace, actually any place with any person, even the most obnoxious one, would have been fine instead of being on that flying tomb. Although the mood was lighter than a few seconds earlier, Leind did not want to delude himself. Even though it bothered him to involve his comrades-in-arms in his thoughts he spoke anyway.

"During these days I have seen Vernem's reinforcements arrive, as well as the other Ksaminian platoons. The only ones we are waiting for are the last part of Deloa's army and the dwarves, which I imagine will send loads of weapons and maybe some combat automatons. Doing some hand counts, we will eventually be about two hundred thousand basic units, and fifty thousand elité units, and among all these, less than a thousand individuals, including Londse, really stand out from the point of view of power. In the meantime, we are up against two dark deities and two armies about which we have no information on size and composition... What do you think our chances of survival are?"

Hurd did not answer but looked at him intensely, the look made it clear what his thoughts were, there was no need to say anything, it was so obvious how he was in line with Leind's thoughts.

"Less than we deserve, a lot more than you two are thinking" to break this silence had been Akser again "well not that it takes much to overcome the ground zero you have in mind," that phrase had caught their attention and their companion took advantage of it.

"While you were looking at the sky thinking about which bird was going to shit on your grave, I popped into the camps of the other armies and with my usual charisma gathered some informations" he concluded the sentence by raising his head slightly, with an air of superiority

"Are you waiting for us to get mold or are you planning to tell us?" Hurd had no desire to play 'guess-what-information-your-friend-has-gathered-from-a-hole'.

Their companion smiled before answering "I was getting there. First, I learned that two big shots teleported here without saying anything and together with a third one have been at the perimeter of the area long before we arrived. From what I understand we are talking about Sharden, the famous Oneironauta of Deloa's army, Kserma ruler of Aedren and survivor of the Order of the Golden Kings, and last but not least that prodigy who is shaking our continent with his deeds, the young Hisey of the Storm!"

At those words, Leind's brain stopped working. Probably if he had a mirror, he would have seen his face with the mouth half open and bulging eyes. Even breathing seemed to have become a secondary action compared to trying to process those few words. That could have changed everything! It did not ensure victory or guarantee the survival of each of those present, but that was a chance, a damned chance of defeating two Lords!

Apparently, Hurd was less prone to believe Akser, because he instantly started to question his companion "On Sharden I can level with you, she's the lord commander of Deloa's armies. But Hisey and Kserma? One it's a rogue, he does what he wants when he wants to, while the other one now it's a fucking politic, do you really think she would risk her life here in Zagliastrua and not as a last stand? I hope you haven't overdone the Borderat and imagined hearing things while wandering around the camp during your hangovers... No one here has ever heard of such a thing nor have there been any such sightings."

Placing a hand on his chest and with a melodramatic tone Akser was prone to respond "My friend, you hurt me greatly! I would never lie on such a sensitive subject. No, to answer your first question I plan to stay decently sober the whole time we are here and die of alcohol as soon as we get back. To answer your second, no one in our camp, as well as in the other adjacent Ksaminian ones, has been made aware of this, if, of course, we exclude all the generals of each platoon, ours included. And our dear Londse probably is waiting for the right moment to reveal it to us. But if you need a little proof, why don't you try to look beyond the Reikonger forest after the valley? You'll notice some peculiar atmospheric behaviors, Hisey is meditating, and this, as you well can see, is forming a storm in real time, dear my disbeliever." Akser finished his sentence pointing westward.

Following his companion's finger, Leind laid his gaze beyond the valley filled with natural lakes, letting a little life energy flow through his blood to bring his vision into better focus. That little trick had been taught to him by Akser himself. Normally, getting life energy flowing through the body was taught to all soldiers to enable them to improve physical performance, but advanced techniques such as enhancing one's vision, voice, or hearing were outside the basic teachings. That meant that those skills had to be obtained by the teachings of a superior or, as in Leind's case, from a more experienced comrade, Akser to be precise.

As Leind continued to pour energies to increase his vision, he passed what appeared to be an endless forest with his gaze and finally came to see in the distance a small, dark blue-colored cloud that was being repeatedly shot through with lightning as far as his eyes could see.

At this kind of altitude, a storm would have started from below and the area would have become thick and foggy while instead the sky was clear and everything was quiet except for that small distant spot. It may not have been overwhelming evidence, but it certainly fed his companion's theory.

Hurd did not seem convinced, however, "If it was as you say, why keep it hidden in the Ksamin camps and not in the others? Who did you talk to to get this kind of information?"

Smiling Akser lifted a finger to his mouth "Ah, but a good informant never reveals his sources my friend, but they are more than reliable, I guarantee it myself. As for why no one here knew about it, those sources are like me, few capable geniuses in the art of knowing everything. The majority of the other armies didn't know about this. Maybe all the generals have agreed on telling this later."

Hurd huffed "I hope for your sake that this is not a joke Akser. I am trying to make peace with myself since we departed, do not give me false hope"

Their comrade for the first time since the beginning of the speech, and perhaps since they had known him, became instantaneously serious "Hurd, Leind, this will probably be the biggest and bloodiest battle there has ever been. There would be tales and stories about this war... I cannot in good conscience nor do I want to deceive you. Like you, I fear losing my life here, I am as afraid as I will never be again... There are things I have not done that I wish I could remedy. I am not so sure that this guarantees our survival, but I am sure of what I have told you."

Hurd did not reply, looked at him intently as he was done speaking, and nodded. Having finished these words Akser, returning with his usual carefree look, placed one arm around Hurd's neck and one around Leind's. "Let's go, now patrol and practice while tonight we'll have a good time, no drunkenness to die for but no saintly evenings either, tomorrow I'm afraid things will become more challenging."

So they headed toward the usual camp, for the usual training.