The Trelvenese scattered before them, dashing back to the city as fast as their legs could take them. The entire army, tens of thousands strong, fled in disarray, the slower ones quickly being cut down by the Foresters. With the average Forester being far taller than the average Trelvenese, it was light work to catch the enemy after they had locked onto a target. The Trelvenese commander had already entered the city, leaving his subordinates behind to the slaughter.
It was quite the sight to behold. Several hundred Foresters, followed by many more behind them, chasing an army of many thousands. The roars were deafening, echoing across the landscape. It was almost like a pack of predators chasing a herd of prey, the latter helplessly fleeing before they were targeted and swiftly killed. There was no mercy. The Foresters’ anger and bloodlust flooded their emotions, clouding their vision as they only focused on the enemy before them.
In those moments, they were like wild animals.
Elethien managed to head to the front of the charge, killing any Trelvenese soldier that came into her sight. However, her eyes were not focused at her next target, instead scanning left and right for any possible ambushes. Occasionally, she even looked behind, watching the fading pillars of smoke in the distance where their camp was located. They were becoming separated from the rest of the Foresters, charging blindly forward in a pocket of their own.
The Trelvenese funnelled into the gate and the exposed section of the wall, scurrying inside the city. As the archers fired at them from the gatehouse, Elethien brought her wings up as a shield before she turned towards the undefended wall, leaping over the palisade in order to continue her chase. Her instincts as a warrior were screaming at her not to enter, but they had already come this far. As Teion and a few Foresters passed her and entered inside, there was no chance to simply turn back.
Do not enter the city.
This was an obvious trap, but for the sake of her people, she marched further inside, anticipating the inevitable ambush that was to come.
She only prayed for Fate to forgive their foolishness and save them from this predicament.
Inside the walls were paved roads and passageways, the towering houses and winding streets like a maze. Without even hesitating for a single moment, the Foresters rushed in, ignoring the interiors of each house as they chased small squads of enemy soldiers deeper and deeper into the city.
Despite Elethien’s efforts to keep track of the Foresters’ locations, there were simply too many roads that each of them entered, leading to paths that hid away from her sight. She herself was soon lost as well, endlessly pursuing an enemy squad that always seemed to elude her attacks, running into alleyways and over fences, dashing past empty markets and abandoned houses.
There were too many nooks and crannies in the city. It was almost like a forest, able to shelter and hide so many people away from the Foresters’ sight, confusing them with the layout of the streets and roads. The tens of thousands that fled into the city seemed to have nearly disappeared, leaving only a few dozen straggling soldiers that still managed to mostly evade the Foresters’ chase.
Elethien soon found herself at a large plaza, at its centre a fountain still peacefully spewing out water as if nothing had happened. Soon, she was joined by many of the Foresters, gathering together in confusion and out of breath. The enemy had all disappeared by this point save for what seemed to be a hundred soldiers… and the armoured commander on horseback, patiently waiting for her arrival. Unlike earlier, the man was extremely composed even when without a weapon, his cold calmness and relaxation a stark contrast to the Foresters’ exhaustion.
Above his head was a large white banner held by two soldiers scribbled with the words: Welcome to Maerila.
If Elethien could see beneath the helmet of the enemy commander, she would’ve probably seen a jeering smile as he looked at the Foresters’ stupidity.
‘Hello, Foresters,’ he spoke, his voice filled with confidence. ‘It seems you finally caught up to me. Quite the feat to chase after a mounted rider while running on foot. You all were chasing my soldiers as if their scent was food for your starving mouths. Quite the spectacle, I must say. But alas, this is as far as you go.’
The wide, nearly circular plaza, surrounded by many multi-storey buildings. The maze of streets and alleys in the city filled with many twists and turns. The lack of resistance as the Trelvenese retreated, allowing the Foresters to even step foot in the city in the first place.
Teion dragged his axe on the ground as he arrived next to Elethien, gasping for breath. ‘Elethien, this is—’
‘I know,’ Elethien snapped. ‘It’s too late now.’
‘So you finally noticed,’ the commander said. ‘Good on you to finally realise I have more than a hundred men under my command. In fact, I can easily annihilate each and every one of you, just as I have done to my enemies in the past.’
‘Why haven’t you attacked us yet?’ Elethien questioned.
‘As much as I have the ability to kill all of you in this instant, this is unfortunately not what I am tasked with. If you satisfy this one condition of mine, then I may choose to let you go.’
‘And that is…?’
‘Return the prisoner you have taken from us,’ he demanded.
‘So your crown prince, huh,’ Elethien scoffed. ‘He’s not with us.’
‘Huh… That makes my job a lot simpler then.’
The commander raised his fist to the air. Archers appeared from the rooftops and windows. The ground shook with the sound of hooves charging from the north, west and south. As Elethien spread her wings in alarm, a host of cavalry crashed into the rear of the Forester forces, trampling many under the warhorses’ hooves. The archers released the arrows, the metal tips shining like thousands of stars in the midday sky.
What came after could only be called hell.
The commander’s hand began forming a fireball, absorbing the air around it to become larger and more powerful. As he released it into the sky, the fireball temporarily blocked off the midday sun, becoming the ruler of the skies for just a moment before it splitted into many tiny, arrowhead-like shapes, screeching towards the panicking Foresters in a hail of flames.
Elethien enveloped the Foresters in her wings like a shroud. Yet they were already beginning to be afraid. They had lost all momentum at the sight of this coordinated attack, being lured deep into enemy territory. Whatever bravado and courage they had earlier was all gone, replaced with sheer terror as they looked at the sky blanketed with fireballs and arrows, their bright silhouettes barely able to be seen through Elethien’s wings
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The projectiles crashed down upon them. The wings protected the Foresters like a warm dome. The fires were easily absorbed, the arrows deflected towards the ground, but there was no way to counterattack. Just as her wings protected the Foresters from all external harm, it also prevented any Forester attack from reaching the enemy. As one of them fired an energy blast towards the sky, it only fizzled disappointingly as it came into contact with the wings.
They were stuck.
Elethien could sense her stamina depleting. She was hesitating. She had no idea how long this shield would last. This wasn’t what Fate had intended. Her faith was being tested already. Against a far superior force, all she could do was to protect her people. She could not even move, lest some of her people become exposed to the relentless Trelvenese fire.
The firing stopped, and the Trelvenese cavalry came back for a second charge. The horses crashed into the wings, some tumbling over in a concussion while others who slowed down in time only had a slight daze. The spears failed to stab through, instead being knocked off the horsemen’s hands from the countering force. However, the wings were now trembling, the light of the energy gradually thinning.
The wings were almost like an impenetrable prison, protecting and trapping the Foresters within. No amount of force could break through them, a testament to the power of her God, but it had simply brought the battle to a stalemate. And it was weakening.
Elethien kneeled on the ground, sweat pouring from her head. Through the blessing of Fate, she should’ve been able to completely protect her people. She believed she had absolute trust in Fate. She had seen what it could do. There was supposed to be no reason to doubt.
But her exhaustion of supposedly infinite energy said otherwise. She was lacking in confidence. A part of mind still acted as if she had a limited core. A part of her still doubted the power of Fate. A part of her was still too proud.
‘My God, forgive us for our foolishness,’ she prayed loudly. ‘We were blind to your words and have stupidly walked into an enemy trap. The Kingdom of Foresters, the promise you have made to us, will soon fall from our own recklessness. We are but nothing without you, my God. So I beg, I beg with all I have, save us from our predicament! Show our enemies your power, that this kingdom may be a testament to your glory! I promised I will follow you, so lead us to the victory that you have promised! My body is all yours to use!’
For the first time, the terrified Foresters kneeled with her, their hands clasped together as she always had done. Even as Elethien’s wings grew weaker and the Trelvenese attacks grew stronger, they all dropped their weapons just to pray to a God they could not see. All of this for the tiniest bit of hope that Fate would save them.
Your faith is not forgotten, my dear child.
An acute pain spread across the right side of her face. She felt the patterns tattooed on her face branch out further, flashes of light shooting across her eye as she clutched her head in agony. Her sword shook violently, the blade shining brightly red.
Three of her wings crystallised… and shattered. Thousands of shards swarmed the sky, deflecting the projectiles into random directions, falling back on the Trelvenese. Some unfortunate soldiers were soon pierced with their own arrows, falling off the roof in an unceremonious manner.
Yet still the commander seemed unmoved.
Run.
‘Retreat!’ she cried out. They began to run, fleeing from the projectiles that rained upon them. Hundreds, thousands of foot soldiers suddenly poured out from the houses, filling the streets with war cries and spears. Other than an empty alleyway with dozens of archers perched on top, there was practically no way out.
If she could just carve a path…
She shakily pointed her sword towards the east where they had entered the city from. Yet instead of an energy last, the shards began to swarm towards her, colliding against each other as they began to combine together, bit by bit, the pure whiteness of the shards gradually being infected, drowned in black.
Soon the shards were gone. Instead, there were four black greatswords hovering around Elethien’s back. Each was marked with a red title across the wide cross guard, the only splash of colour in their otherwise dark appearances. These, unlike her wings, seemed to have minds of their own, parrying the incoming projectiles without any instruction from Elethien.
May the protection of Remaiel, Soraphiel, Satiel and Ureiel be with you.
She fell to the ground as the entire right side of her body froze, her hand still tightly holding the sword. Noticing this, Teion quickly carried her on his back, sprinting as the soldiers began to converge on them.
The four swords sprung into action. Despite being massive blades, they weaved through the Foresters effortlessly until they approached the enemy. Before the Trelvenese could even react, the swords sliced through their heads, the bodies still twitching for a few moments before they slumped over in lifelessness.
Elethien’s frozen half began to move once more, separate from the rest of her consciousness. Her arm moved on its own, slightly swaying the sword back and forth in rhythmic motions as it began to conduct the greatswords towards the next group of targets. One, two, three, four… she soon lost count. The soldiers were quickly reduced to numbers in her eyes, each death meaning that another obstacle was removed in the path of retreat.
Instead of fear when she realised she lost control of half her body… she felt joy. She felt as if Fate had become a part of her, taking over half of her whole. Even as the red tattoos on her face continued to spread, there was no longer a sense of pain. That half of her face had been sacrificed to Fate as well.
‘Fire! Fire!’ A multitude of arrows shot towards her and Teion. The three remaining wings, shrunken from their state earlier, quickly raised themselves and defended them. A moment later, all of the archers that had shot at her were disposed of by the four greatswords.
Fate is your sword and shield.
As the Foresters continued to flee eastward, the greatswords carved out a path of corpses before them, the Trelvenese bodies a carpet for them to run across. Even as many of the Foresters fell to Trelvenese arrows, the archers who killed them would quickly be killed themselves.
There was no reason or logic behind the sudden appearance of the greatswords. They simply existed because Fate willed it so. Being grand, heavy, nearly fanciful melee weapons, they served purely as a display, a representation of Fate itself.
Such was the ridiculousness, the unfairness, the favouritism of her God.
Pursued behind by the Trelvenese soldiers, Elethien and her people soon arrived at the section where they entered, now heavily guarded with enemy troops. The portcullis was shut as expected, the archers above firing as soon as the Foresters came into range. Yet just as before, the greatswords flew up and ran riot on the walls, heads tumbling off as the soldiers descended into panic. As the melee troops came into contact with the Foresters, the swords simply dove down towards the ground, clearing out a path of flesh and blood.
A fireball shot into the sky, far larger than what Elethien witnessed before. As soon as it reached above the walls, it dove down… straight towards the thickest area of fighting between the Foresters and Trelvenese.
The shockwave knocked back Teion, falling on Elethien as he tumbled to the ground. Even a few of the soldiers behind them fell, their weapons nearly released from their hands. A massive surface of fire rose from the ground, the soldiers and Foresters immediately being set ablaze. They screamed, but the screams quickly went silent as they became charred corpses, rapidly decaying away in the sea of fire.
There weren’t many of them left. The Forester vanguard, made of the best fighters in Elethien’s army, were reduced to little more than a crowd of a couple hundred at best. There were far more Foresters in the camp, but they were likely already in the forests, retreating per Elethien’s commands before the battle had even begun.
Looking behind, Elethien saw the Trelvenese commander still on horseback, faint smoke billowing from his hands. There was no sign of regret or remorse from his body language, only a frightening stillness with little sense of empathy.
‘I will demand this once again,’ he proclaimed. ‘Return Crown Prince Amovishel, and you may be let go.’