DALEN A-SORGUD
After giving the weapons and armor to the soldiers of the Amatru, Enoch watched them go their separate ways. The Iryllurym took to the air while the Anduarym ran through the fields to the west. The holy Myndarym, who had shifted the soldiers into this realm, disappeared just as the Speaker had done in Haragdeh. The Vidirym, who seemed the most secretive, had come from the Eternal Realm directly into the nearby water. Enoch didn’t get a good look at them, but did manage to catch a glimpse of bluish green skin. As they slipped beneath the water, something trailed behind them, disturbing the smooth surface.
When they were gone, silence descended like a thick blanket, the likes of which Enoch hadn’t experienced in months. Stranger than this abrupt change was the fact that Enoch now felt quite lonely. Though he’d always been a recluse by nature, he’d been living with the Myndarym for quite some time and had grown accustomed to their presence. Looking now across the water and the patches of fog swirling over the grass, he wondered what he should do. Aragatsiyr was vacant now, as all the Myndarym had gone to war. And Semjaza’s stone city, which Enoch had named Malakiyr, was soon to be a battlefield. Neither place held any purpose for him, which led him to wonder if his responsibilities had been fulfilled.
Immediately, his thoughts turned to his family. He missed Zacol and remembered now the way her eyes filled with tears the day he left. And little Methu, the way he was fascinated by something he’d found on the ground. Enoch even missed his tribe; the usual mild disdain with which they treated him, now seemed comfortingly familiar in light of everything that had occurred since he had left. He missed the feeling of peacefulness that he experienced when sitting in the fields at night, watching from a distance as families huddled together around fires, staring into the flames. He missed the sound of the animals that grazed in the fields of Sedekiyr. And, as strange as it seemed, he even missed the smells that went along with them. It was the smell of home. The air in this place was cleaner, with more pleasing fragrances, but he could almost smell the loneliness beneath it. Enoch slowly closed his eyes.
Holy One. Once again, I find myself alone. You have allowed me to see such strange and marvelous things, but now I am reminded of the ache in my heart. I miss my family and my home. Is there more that You require of me? For greater than any other desire of mine is that which seeks to obey Your voice. You know what my needs are. You know what is best for me and my family; for this world. Is there more that You require?
When Enoch opened his eyes, he saw water covering everything as far as the eye could see. He stood on a rocky fragment of land, looking north. And yet, without turning around, he knew it was connected to a larger landmass behind him. It was different, yet reminded him of the land he passed over when traveling toward Aragatsiyr for the first time. He had named it Sahveyim, for there had been water on all sides.
Then the vision passed away and he saw only the swaying grass, dancing in the morning breeze. In his mind, a few words remained—echoes of something that he was certain he hadn’t heard in the first place. They repeated themselves, so quietly as to make him wonder if they were not his own thoughts.
For a time …
One more thing, my faithful child.
One more thing …
* * * *
THE GREAT WATERS
The incoming waves thundered against the rocks, breaking through the narrow slit that separated The Great Waters from the secluded gorge where the officers of the Amatru now sat. On the cliffs high above, two wings of Iryllurym were joined by two companies of Anduarym, keeping watch over the surrounding land. And somewhere beneath the vast stretch of water to the north, two companies of Vidirym patrolled the depths. Though Semjaza’s fortress was still nearly a hundred and fifty miles away, the officers were not about to take any chances at being discovered by Semjaza’s scouts.
As promised, Fer-Rada Danduel had arrived the previous day. His Anduarym had picked up the remaining weapons and armor left behind by the attack on Semjaza’s soldiers. After spending the night in the fields, the soldiers of the Amatru and the Myndarym moved northward to the coast of the Great Waters. Along the way, they met up with the remainder of the water-going Myndarym whose progress had been severely slowed when they were forced to take on their angelic forms in order to cross over the land to the south.
Now that all parties were accounted for, the leaders held their war council in the secrecy of the rocks along the coast. Though it was almost noon, the sun’s rays only illuminated one side of the steep cliffs, while the remainder stayed cloaked in shadow. By the time the waves entered the tall and narrow fissure, they were calmed considerably, reduced to soft ripples which wet the rocks beneath their feet.
Sariel crouched low on his perch so that he was, more or less, looking into the eyes of the others.
“Semjaza’s fortress is situated on a small peninsula at the center of a cove,” Ananel began, having taken the leadership role for the Myndarym by default. “It is very large. Its center tower rises above the height of the surrounding cliffs, giving his Iryllurym visibility for miles in every direction.”
“So his Iryllurym occupy the upper level?” asked Danduel.
“Yes. Its tetrahedron shape incorporates three levels—one for each segment of his army. The widest, base level sits below the waterline and houses his Vidirym. The next level sits even with the peninsula of land leading to its main entrance. This, of course, houses his Anduarym. And the narrowest, top level houses the Iryllurym. Each level is also crafted from different substances based on the needs of its environment.”
Danduel suddenly looked disinterested.
“Generally speaking, the lower level is shaped from heavier, denser materials, with the upper level from lighter, porous materials,” Ananel added quickly, trying to convey anything that may be useful.
“You said a peninsula. It’s connected to the land around the bay?” Danduel asked, changing the direction of the conversation slightly.
“Yes.”
“I assume there is a trail or passageway that his Anduarym move along? How do we get in?”
Ananel looked off into the water for a moment. “The route along the peninsula connects to a path on the mainland which traverses the foothills of the surrounding mountains. It leads to a pass through the cliffs on the east side of the cove. It is the only entrance by land. The other terrain is far too steep and dangerous for anyone to climb. That is how Semjaza wanted it—to prevent a land-based infiltration. On the west side, the mountains descend into the sea before they’re able to form a complete circle, creating the equivalent entrance from the sea.”
“Perfect,” Danduel said with a smile.
Ananel cocked his head slightly. “Each pass is flanked by a pair of watchtowers with a wall between them. The passages are long and narrow—”
“Reducing the effectiveness of larger invading armies,” Fim-Rada Erethel jumped in. He commanded one of the two divisions of Anduarym.
Ananel merely nodded at the interruption. “And each side of the passage has multiple narrow corridors leading in from an angle. I’m not sure of the purpose for this.”
Danduel’s eyes narrowed.
Fim-Rada Evanel spoke up this time. “While the invading army is thinned out through the entrance, defending soldiers can approach both flanks from the rear. It’s brilliant, really,” the other Anduar officer admitted.
Beneath the water, something large moved. A broad and flat shape broke the surface of the water, followed immediately by a brief puff of air escaping from a blow-hole on the top of what looked like a hairless head. Its smooth skin was dark blue, with a tint of green. The wide-set eyes were black and menacing. “And this is the same for the sea entrance?” came the eerie voice of Kai-Niquel, Fim-Rada of the Vidirym.
“Yes,” Ananel replied, a look of disappointment on his face. “Only, it’s under water.”
After seeking clarification, Kai-Niquel’s head dropped just below the surface and he remained there, hovering effortlessly. The gills along either side of his neck expanded and contracted methodically, pulling oxygen from the water. The dual methods of breathing enabled the Vidirym to exist in multiple environments, though water was their primary domain. Beneath his colossal figure, several flattened, snake-like appendages undulated, gracefully holding him in position.
Sariel turned to Danduel. “It looks like the Iryllurym will need to provide cover.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” the Fer-Rada replied. Then he turned to Ananel. “Being an Anduar himself, I assume we’ll find Semjaza in the ground level of his fortress?”
“His throne room is actually one story above the ground level.”
“Alright,” he mumbled to himself, then turned to the other officers present with both hands clasped in front of his chin. “In order to defeat him, we’ll need to concentrate our ground forces there. Which means we have to get them through that land entrance. So, the Iryllurym will need to provide air cover, striking quickly at the gate defenses just before our Anduarym arrive,” he said, looking directly at Nuathel.
“Once through, our land forces will be vulnerable to a flank attack from the bay by Semjaza’s Vidirym. And that means our own will need to have breached the sea entrance first. We’ll all meet in the middle,” he said, stopping to look up at Sariel. “And that’s when you fulfill your promise to kill Semjaza yourself.”
Sariel nodded.
“If we strike fast and make it through the gates, we should be able to use Semjaza’s fortress design against him. Then it’s just a matter of numbers; I have twice the soldiers he does.”
Sariel looked to Ananel who had been silent for a while. The Fer-Rada had not only dominated the conversation, but had also made no mention of how the Myndarym would fit into the strategy. As expected, the soldiers had taken control of the direction of this battle. Sariel was disappointed that the Shapers, it seemed, were content to allow it.