“For twelve days and eleven nights the Lords and Baroness’ of Levanthria argued and negotiated terms between themselves. Offering one another certain lands and titles if they were to be nominated to ascend the throne. On the twelfth day Lady Morgana attended, without invite and with the briefest of displays of power, two lords and one baroness lost their lives. By the end of the meeting the rest of the parties present agreed that it would be Lady Morgana who would be nominated to become Queen Consort. This decision will have grave consequences for The Great Temple, given that the envoy who attended as a representative was the first to perish by her hands.”
Aymara Blythe, Grand Priestess to the Great Temple, 255 KR
The screams of our attackers send a deep chill down my spine. Their numbers threaten to far outweigh our own. We have picked our point tactically, opting for the high ground of a clearing within the trees, pushing farther beyond the boundaries than we ever have before. I only hope it does not push our newly formed alliance with the fae to the limit.
Part of me hopes that the fae see what is happening, that Queen Zariah is aware of our plight. I have no doubt that if they came to our aid, our safety will be guaranteed.
At the top of the hill, I stand at the front of the line, my staff gripped firmly by my side. There is an air of restlessness about our group, one that I cannot begrudge them. Some have never seen battle but they are willing to take up arms to defend their homes.
From the base of the hill, Laith, Vireo, Killian, and Yaelor emerge at speed. They are sprinting with Killian and Vireo taking it in turns to alternate firing shots into the trees. As they make their way up the hill towards us, I watch them closely, waiting for them to pass the markers that we have set up.
As they do, the first wave of soldiers breaches the trees in pursuit of the others and the sudden realisation of impending battle crashes into me like a battering ram.
I raise my staff into the air and face my comrades. “Today, we fight for our lands. Today, we fight to show them that we will not be pushed around, that we are all free!”
I wait for the Askelan soldiers to start advancing to the foot of the hill. They are unorganised and disjointed. Exactly how we wanted them to be.
“FIRE!” I point my staff down the hill and those in our first row raise their bows into the sky and let loose a flurry of arrows, which dance through the sky in unison before arcing over and dropping down onto our enemy. Bodies drop as the arrows spray over them.
“FIRE!” I call again, and the next row of archers steps forward, raining down another wave of arrows.
Soldiers continue to fall at the foot of the hill, but far-superior numbers continue to advance. We repeat the process, taking out as many of the soldiers as we can as we search to get the upper hand. In the meantime, Laith and the others continue to run toward us.
As the Askelan soldiers advance, their own archers aim up to the heavens and fire arrows. We know from our calculations that their arrows will not reach us, but I fear for the others. Many arrows come dropping down around Laith, Vireo, Killian, and Yaelor, littering the ground around them. It is a game of chance, but I am not about to risk everything by chance.
I raise my staff into the air and draw on a new level of magic I have not experienced. The hairs on my arms stand on edge as magic starts to course through my body and channel into my staff, the tip of which glows as though it is white-hot. As the arrows threaten to end Laith and the others, they snap in the sky, leaving nothing other than a shower of splintered wood as they crash into the largest barrier spell I have ever created. My staff vibrates, emitting a low humming noise as magic enriches the wood. Despite the size and distance of the spell, I do not feel the usual fatigue I endure when casting my magic. I maintain the spell for as long as I need to allow the others the time to reach us. Arrows continue to break as they hit the barrier, landing at various parts of the field.
“What was that?” Killian asks as they reach us.
“My magic grows stronger than it ever has been.” I smile. I feel as though there is still much to learn about my newfound strength, my body unburdened from the aftereffects of wielding my power. “I am yet to test how far I can push it.”
“Either way, I am grateful for your intervention,” Vireo pants as he too reaches us. “I fear that our carcasses would be lined with arrows.”
We have little time to converse as the wave of soldiers descend on us like swarming ants. Our archers continue to fire down on them, but their numbers mean that despite us taking out many, they still outnumber us.
“Get into position!” Vireo calls.
The first row of our defence lays down their bows and kneels on the ground, waiting patiently, their nerves unfettered and inspiring. These men and women fight for each other, every single one of them.
“Hold,” Vireo tells them, his focus in the moment of battle.
I stand beside him just behind the first row of people, and Laith and Yaelor take up position, kneeling in front of us.
It doesn’t take long for the soldiers to reach us, their weapons drawn, their battle cries reverberating through the air.
“Now!” Vireo commands.
The row in front of them raises wooden pikes which lie dormant on the ground, a death trap for anyone unfortunate enough to run into them.
Bodies slam into the pikes, finding themselves skewered in an instant. Blood sprays everywhere as the Askelan soldiers swarm us. The next wave of their forces is quickly upon us and the close combat begins. I slam my staff against a soldier’s chest and as he hits the ground, Yaelor finishes him off, using her hatchets to quickly cleave into his chest with brutal efficiency.
Metal clashes against metal as the sound of battle and subsequent death begins to echo across the lands.
Our fighters hold their ground well, and although I see one or two fall, the Askelan troops are losing more men. The high ground is working. Through the bodies, I see Lek approaching, his battle-axe gripped by both his hands. Its blade drips with the blood of our own and I hear him call out across the battlefield.
“Vireo!” he roars.
Vireo is not one for hiding, and the green blur of his cloak whips past me as he careens down the hill towards his sworn enemy. A soldier swings his sword at him, but I channel my magic and fire a blast of energy into his chest which knocks him to the ground with a thud. Vireo then takes out two more soldiers quickly with his blade, drawing it across one’s neck before driving his sword deep into the other’s chest.
“Lek!” Vireo dives through the air with his sword outstretched. Lek grins wildly as his former friend approaches him. Vireo is well within the enemy camp, and it is all I can do to keep the soldiers at bay whilst he enters combat with Lek. I fire smouldering blasts of energy from my hand and the end of my staff, and as my magic hails down on our enemies, they drop quickly, my magic searing into their skin. Lek raises his axe on its side, holding it above him as Vireo brings his sword down. There is a spark as the two weapons collide and they begin their fight, both faces snarling with hatred as each tries to best the other.
Soldiers continue to push up the hill towards us, vastly outnumbering us. As they continue to swarm us, my brain starts to search for answers on how we can defeat our invading enemies.
Laith and Yaelor continue to battle from the front, taking down multiple soldiers as they fight side by side with impressive speed and efficiency. However, I fear how long this can be maintained with more soldiers advancing on us.
I stare down the hill at the swarm approaching and realise that if they reach us, this battle will quickly be over. It appears that Lek’s battle plan is to simply outnumber us.
I start to draw on my magic, the tip of my staff glowing whiter than ever. It vibrates so wildly that I struggle to keep hold of it. Then I feel a connection to the staff itself, and a strange sense of reassurance comes over me as if the staff itself guides me. I let the power in, slamming my staff into the ground and drawing on the energy of the forest. Crackles of energy flow from the ground and into my staff before coursing through my arms and into the rest of my body. I do not feel pain or discomfort for the levels of power that I draw. In fact, it is quite the opposite. My body feels invigorated and energised as I embrace the magic that my staff lets me draw upon.
My clothes ruffle as wildly as my hair as though I stand in the centre of a storm. Some of the soldiers stop in their tracks, faces filled with panic. I raise my staff from the ground before putting all my power into my spell, embracing every essence of the magic that tracks through my skin. Slamming my staff into the ground, I let out an almighty roar whilst focusing my spell halfway down the hill. The ground shakes aggressively, fighters from both sides losing their footing. As I focus my spell, I barely notice the blade that is driving towards my head, but Laith’s sword intervenes to block this before he strikes down the soldier.
The ground continues to rumble, interrupting the immediate battle around us before I allow a blast of energy to pulse into the hill. As the ground shakes, the earth cracks below us further down the hill and it triggers a landslide. A wall of earth and stone forces itself down the hill, devouring the many troops that were making their way towards us. It is impossible to fight such a force, and their numbers quickly shrink as the soldiers meet their ends, crushed and buried alive.
I continue the spell for as long as I can, my magic rippling around me until a sharp sting greets my hand. I take the pain as a warning from my staff, Queen Zariah having advised me of the consequences should I push my magic too far. I pull back, allowing the energy to disperse and severing my connection to the ground as quickly as I can, fearing that the surge could break my staff. My body is tired from the spell, but the usual eruption of agony does not engulf my body. I am fatigued but not hindered by my magic-use.
We have gained a strong advantage, but those not crushed by my magical landslide continue to climb the disfigured terrain towards us. My attention spins to Lek and Vireo who remain locked in combat with one another, oblivious to the carnage around them as if it is only them on the battlefield. The two exchange blows with Vireo’s speed matched by Lek’s strength. Lek wields his axe with brutal precision. He aims a wild boot at Vireo which connects with his chest, flooring him in an instant. Vireo gasps, his eyes wide. Lek raises his axe, ready to bring it down on Vireo. Before I have chance to draw on my magic, Laith throws himself at Lek, catching him off guard. The two of them roll down the hill, Lek dropping his axe in the process. Furious, Lek appears to regain his composure as he climbs above a sprawling Laith and thunders fists down on his chest.
I fire a blast of energy into Lek’s back, forcing him from Laith. He stares us down, his face bloody, his body heaving for air.
“Four against one?” he glowers, standing tall, ready to fight all of us. Vireo, Yaelor, Laith, and I stand side by side, ready to strike him down. It is no less than he deserves.
Lek is undeterred, however, and grins wildly as if it is he who has the upper hand. He reaches inside his tunic and removes an elixir.
“Stop him quickly!” I yell, knowing full well the power such dark potions will allow him.
Vireo looks puzzled by my panic, but Yaelor and Laith understand why we need to disarm him. They drive towards him at speed as Lek draws the potent elixir to his lips, emptying its contents into his mouth.