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Sea Mist’s head bobbed as he edged sideways. Elodi leaned forward and patted his neck, but her words failed to calm him. He knew her too well and sensed the anxiety of his rider. They stood at the center of the forces gathered to hold back the dark tide. Elodi glanced to both flanks. Spear tips and armor glistened under the sun as it climbed in the clear sky above them, but the thousands rallying to her call looked too few on the wide plain. The birds sang, unflustered by the army trampling across their grasslands. For a moment, Elodi could be deceived into expecting a pleasant autumn day. But as the breeze picked up, the cool air from the north soon chased away the warmth of the middle realms.

To Elodi’s relief, Aldorman had arrived in the early hours and now formed a line behind her. Despite having little time to recover, Aldorman assured her they were fit for duty following their arduous journey through the Kolossos Pass. Her captain had reported only sporadic raids by small bands of Ruuk, and mercifully his losses were few.

Elodi scanned the plain. Her forces stretched half a league along a ridge running from Roth’s Doom to the hills in the east. On her left, the chasm presented a solid defense; on her right, the hills offered little. But the enemy’s formation suggested the hills would play no strategic part. Nyomae had been right, and the sky told Elodi all she needed to know. And that is exactly what the invaders wanted her to know. They would clash head on. The slope she chose to defend was shallow, but taking the high ground offered a slight advantage. Elodi may have had close to fifteen thousand at arms, yet they looked stretched thin along the long front. But she had little choice. Had she chosen a narrower and deeper formation, they would soon be surrounded with no route open for a retreat, if that was ever an option. Elodi had wished for a more detailed account of the threat, but a vast army of at least thirty thousand would cause even the stoutest heart of her scouts to falter. Understandably, they had not risked capture, but some had waited long enough to spy unworldly, dark creatures moving in the shadows behind the front ranks.

Elodi gawped at the gathering darkness on both land and in the sky. Her stomach churned as she recalled the sea and sky merging just before the maelstrom had slammed into the Celestra. On that day, Horace and Blowers had guided the old lady through that battle — could she safely negotiate the one to come? She stood in her stirrups to check the defensive ditch running across her entire front. Hundreds of Archonians had spent the night digging the shallow trench, achieving the remarkable feat in quick time. Dozens of wagons rolled across the line depositing the barrels of the Shreek’s Rage retrieved from the pass. While it would not stop an attack, Elodi hoped to thin out the advancing hordes before they fell upon her lines. But her plan for archers to ignite the powder had changed thanks to the looming storm clouds. Elodi had been brought close to tears when so many had volunteered to light the short fuses from the trench. It would be fraught with danger, and not only from the risk of being slaughtered by the advancing enemy. The powder had to be left in their casks to keep it dry, therefore the resulting explosions would be huge and could easily obliterate those retreating.

Elodi looked back across the formation once more. She dearly wished Gundrul and Ruan could be at her side. Neither had experience of such a large, set piece battle in the open, but their company would have helped settle her nerves. Her captains knew their part, but whether their battle plan could work, would soon become apparent. A series of trumpet calls would command her forces, but one glance at the ominous clouds, cast doubt on whether they would be heard over a storm. She had arranged her main strength at the center. On her flanks, the reserves and archers were supported by mounted knights. Behind, the First Horse shielded Nyomae. If they failed, the realms would most likely fall. While Elodi had done all she could with her limited resources, much depended on the actions of the enemy. She believed Dorlan could not resist assailing her position on spying Harlyn’s banner. Nyomae needed to be close to the great warrior if she was to succeed. But one thought nagged Elodi above all others. Should she sit back and wait for the attack? Or if the explosives disrupted the enemy’s advance, would a strike by her mounted knights help to drive home an early advantage? But riding out would leave a gap and could risk losing the battle before it had fully begun. As Elodi saw it, she had no choice but to wait and see what the enemy brought against her.

Bardon pulled up alongside. He had yet to fully recover from his ordeal on Mundrake’s Isle, but he sat with confidence upon his horse. He nodded. ‘The First Horse are in position. Nyomae is well defended.’

Elodi glanced over her shoulder towards the rear. ‘She is as close to the front as we dare. It’s a risk, but she could determine the outcome of the battle if she can free Dorlan from the Ul-dalak. If successful, the First Horse will be free to join the fray.’

Bardon’s brow creased as his gaze shifted to the storm clouds. ‘I fear fray will not do the coming battle justice.’

Elodi tried unsuccessfully to smile. ‘Apologies. That was a poor attempt to calm my nerves.’

‘Nerves can be good, Elodi. They can drive us on when otherwise we may falter.’ He pulled his cloak around his shoulders. ‘And perhaps, they may also make us oblivious to the cold. These old bones appear to have long forgotten my upbringing in the north.’

Elodi glanced to the ditch. ‘I also worry the sleet will dampen the fuses. I had hoped to devastate their front ranks at the very least.’ Elodi’s face chilled. Harlyn’s banner lifted and tugged at its pole as if eager to retreat. She turned to Bardon. ‘The wind picks up.’ Ahead, the clouds billowed ever higher. She now had to tip back her head to find their tops. And as if they detected her attention, they began to tumble towards them. Elodi whispered. ‘It begins, Bardon. This is it.’ Her gaze reluctantly dropped to the plain. At first, she thought she saw the shadow from the clouds, but this was no shadow. She stiffened as she saw the clouds’ front served to guide the mass ranks of the enemy. The plain north of the Borrund Road appeared to rise against them, writhing as if a giant worm slithered beneath the surface.

Elodi stared, dismayed as the green plain turned gray. How could they raise such an army? Nyomae had to succeed if the realms were to survive. Above, the clear skies reminded her of what she fought for, but the blue expanse would soon be smothered by the dark storm. Once more, she looked to her lines. Did the glistening ranks of her army standing defiant upon the high ground, cause even a moment of doubt among the approaching hordes? But the frightening speed the enemy closed the gap, suggested not. Elodi groaned. Her scouts had underestimated their size, perhaps by as much as ten to fifteen thousand — they were outnumbered four to one. She took a deep breath as she tried to calmly assess the threat. The front line consisted of three large formations of heavily armed Ruuk. She guessed it was close to a league wide; twice that of Elodi’s front. And, as she predicted, Dorlan’s banner flew at the center, with Uleva not far behind.

At the head of both flanks, two cloaked figures rode large horses, easily three hands taller than Sea Mist. Elodi’s heart pounded into her ribs: warlocks. Again, Nyomae had been proven right. The warlocks intended to lead from the front to savor the slaughter. But where was Uluriel? Elodi strained to determine the threat of the second and third ranks. Her jaw clenched. The jittery movement in the formation opposing her left flank suggested aralaks. And the rider at their side had to be Uldrak.

But the full horror had yet to be revealed. A solid mass strode behind the main force at the center. Her head throbbed as she recognized the cruel hammers of the Norgog that had almost ended her days at Tunduska. She did not have to read the enemy’s mind to know the ghastly role the Hammerskulls would play. They would be held back until the storm unleashed its hail and froze the air over her forces.

But what awaited her right flank? She rose in her saddle to see a solid line of Ruuk marched on their left. But it was the swirling air behind the Ruuk that plunged the dagger into Elodi’s heart. Tall, rangy forms of shrouls and shreeks teetered on their long legs as if stepping over the dead of past battles. But how many, Elodi could not begin to assess. Behind the mass ranks, the ground had turned white. The enemy had brought the freezing skies of Nordruuk with them. Even if the realms could repel the first wave of Ruuk, they faced the grim prospect of the Norgog battering their exhausted and depleted lines.

Elodi adjusted the strap on her helmet, doubting it could withstand a hammer blow. She muttered. ‘Bardon? How… how do we even begin to…?’

In the silence, she heard the leather of Bardon’s gloves tighten on his reins. ‘For the sake of us all, you must stay strong. Remember your ancestors. You are an Amayan, Elodi.’

She straightened. ‘Yes, yes I must.’ She kicked Sea Mist forward, then turned to face her army. Elodi took another deep breath and let the warmth flood her limbs. She cried out. ‘We are the defenders of the Five Realms! This is our land. The enemy before you have no right to trample our fields, burn our villages, and enslave our loved ones.’ She drew her sword and held it high. ‘This is where we hold the line. This is where we drive them back!’ She looked to the Archonians. ‘Not a step back!’ She let loose her power. Her blade glowed orange, reflecting across the armor of her front lines. The army cheered and thrust their weapons up to the sky. She watched the display but dared to think what lay at her back. What show of force would the warlocks unveil to belittle hers?

Elodi rode back to her position and turned Sea Mist. The front ranks of the enemy had halted just one hundred paces from the ditch. A dark line stretched east to west across the land and sky, dividing the realm as if they stood in two worlds. But alas, they would soon clash. Dorlan positioned his stallion, Draego, to face her. Elodi had avoided a confrontation at Calerdorn — today, she would not. The great knight looked up as the clouds rolled over the open ground between the two armies. Elodi could not help following his gaze, determined not to allow the weight of the sky crush her spirit. But she failed. Yet she was thankful Dorlan had not brought Meloni with him. The sight of the young girl laughing as Sea Mist’s blood had splattered her white nightgown, still haunted Elodi. She often wondered what had become of the sole survivor they had found in the smoldering grass of Dorn Plain. Did she still reside in Calerdorn?

Bardon leaned over. ‘May I say, Elodi, there is no other I would rather follow on this day. The enemy may look a daunting prospect, but believe me, they will also be wary of you.’

‘Thank you, Bardon. I only wish I shared your confidence. But I am most grateful to have you by my side.’ Her voice wavered. ‘Bardon. If I don’t get the opportunity to—’ Three lightning bolts tore the words from her mouth.

Midnight slowed and came to a halt beside Eryn. She pointed. ‘They come.’ In the early light, Toryn saw three riders to the north.

Calestri drew level. ‘I sense no ill as we did with Cymori.’

Arijan agreed. ‘I see Igrayne, Madraal, and if I’m not mistaken, the third is Neeve.’ She turned to Toryn. ‘You’ll never seen anyone throw a spear as far or as true as Neeve. I saw her pierce the throat of a warlock before he saw her coming.’ She grinned. ‘The look of surprise was still on his face as he perished.’

Eryn held up her hand. ‘Wait here please, Toryn. We have matters to discuss with our sisters.’

He dismounted, happy for the chance to stretch his legs after the strenuous journey. He patted Midnight’s nose. ‘Good girl. We’ll rest here while—’ but she trotted off along with the Amayans to greet the three riders. Toryn looked up. It was if the sky was sliced in two. To his left, the calm starlit skies of mid-autumn; to his right, the angry clouds of a bitter winter. They had risen even higher, but still held back. But as the day all dreaded approached, the stars began to fade, happy to withdraw from the world and avoid the carnage to come. Toryn watched the stars depart as he would dear friends. He wondered if Hamar looked down from the Plains of Evermore and dearly wished the old Archonian was at his side. Would he soon be with Hamar? He had made the Archonian vow, and it was highly likely he would die today with his sword in his hand. But whatever the outcome, he hoped Hamar would be proud of him. Toryn had come close to walking away from his duty while resting on the Menon Hills. The urge to explore the shoreline of the restless Elessyn Sea had beckoned — and he was sorely tempted. He could have easily turned his back on Hope, happy to stroll through the sunlit barley fields of Tamarand and onto the coast. But Hamar’s words had stopped him. Toryn had achieved much since that moment, but that would count for nothing if the realms fell today. He looked to the horizon now visible in the dawn light. Would he live to see the oceans?

Horses approached. Although they rode out from beneath the cloud creeping over the plain, the six Amayans glowed. And despite the dread growing in his gut, Toryn felt heartened by the sight of the warriors. They pulled up in front. Eryn slid from her saddle. She held out her hand to the three in turn. ‘Toryn. Meet Igrayne, Madraal, and Neeve. He stood entranced, not hearing Eryn’s words as she explained Toryn’s heritage to her sisters. Neeve sat the tallest on a fine chestnut horse and could easily be mistaken for Eryn from a distance. But despite their appearance, Toryn sensed their recent awakening from the shadow had troubled them.

He jumped as Eryn touched his arm. She winked at him and addressed the Amayans. ‘And don’t be fooled by the strange expression on his youthful face. You will see it often when he’s in our company. But beneath it lies a brave man, and perhaps one day’ — she smiled — ‘a wise man.’

Toryn cleared his throat. ‘I don’t need to be wise to say how pleased the realms will be to see you.’

Igrayne dismounted and laid her hand on his shoulder; Toryn’s face tingled at her touch. ‘Eryn tells me you may yet turn the battle in our favor.’

His cold skin welcomed her warm hand. ‘It’s well beyond anything I’ve attempted before.’ Toryn glanced east. ‘But I guess the same applies to most of us this day.’

Igrayne held his gaze. ‘That it does. We’ve had a difficult passage south. Lunn, and now many parts of Ormsk, lie under a thick blanket of snow and ice. The storm leads an army the likes we’ve not seen in centuries. It’s stopped at the Borrund Road, poised and ready to strike where your forces assemble.’

Eryn wheeled Moonbeam. ‘Then we ride. More follow, but we cannot wait. Ride on.’

The horses reared and screamed. Three lightning bolts shot from the clouds, scorching the earth close to Elodi’s trench. But this was not natural. The bolts struck in a line at equal distances apart. Elodi checked the dugouts of the volunteers ready to light the fuses. None moved. They had not run. Did they live?

The sky darkened as the clouds rolled overhead to suffocate the sun, and with it, the hope of the realms. The ground trembled. Elodi’s hair stood on end beneath her helm. Where the bolts had punctured the surface, the earth boiled as if scorched by the fires below. The three patches widened, then spun like whirlpools to open dark pits down to the Underworld. In the sudden silence, Elodi swore she heard the earth sigh as coils of thick smoke billowed forth. What vulgar beasts did the enemy summon from the depths? Elodi’s breath caught in her throat as three figures took shape. Had Uluriel called upon the drayloks? She quailed. The tapestry in Archonholm depicted the hags spewing fire and ripping mortals to shreds with their long, barbed hair. The Draedalak had all but defeated the Archon and Nyomae’s Order. Did they return?

The creatures grew to a monstrous height. Their knotted spines cracked as they unfurled to stand taller than Uleva’s hideous tower at Wyke Wood. The smoke vanished. These were not the drayloks from the weavers’ imagination. Elodi’s mind raced. These beasts were not from any tale she knew. She gawped in horror as they stretched out their limbs as if released from an age of confinement. They raised their elongated, hairless skulls from their scrawny necks with great effort. Deep within, Elodi knew no mortal had beheld their fearsome faces for many a century. Despite her revulsion, Elodi could not tear her eyes from them. When still a child, she had been terrified by the outlandish face of a sea monster stranded on Calerdorn’s shore. But that was long dead, now three such monsters loomed over her. Yet who had the power to awaken these eldritch beasts? Had Ormoroth returned?

The ground shook as their long arms dropped to their sides as if too heavy for their gangly bodies to support. Yet no hand or claw touched the plain — their arms ended in long, curved blades that tore at the earth as if giant plows. But the horror had just begun. Their slit eyes opened. The plain convulsed as the demons' gaze assaulted the mortal lands. Elodi shrank back as the dull, red eyes of a beast found her. And in that moment, she understood it had come for her soul.

Its cavernous mouth gaped. Elodi’s eyes were drawn into its throat, slick with a gray slime that glistened in a dull light glowing from within. The demons announced their return. Three voices boomed, rising and falling as if the Evil One himself blew his foul breath through a great horn. Elodi’s heart vibrated against her breastplate as the stench of death turned her guts to water.

The creatures moved, taking long, lumbering strides towards Elodi’s line. Once more, she searched for the guards posted at the trench. Should she give the signal to light the fuses? Or were these creatures an apparition, sent for the purpose of wasting her powder. Something stayed her hand.

The burning eyes of the beast opposite Elodi, fell upon her. She cowered as if the very air desired to crush her bones into the dirt. Sea Mist took a step back. Elodi clenched her jaw, vowing to herself, ‘No! I will not be afraid.’ She swallowed her fear and found her voice. ‘By the Three, Bardon. Surely, they cannot be real. But the ground trembles. Do the old tales speak of these craven beasts?’

Bardon stuttered. ‘I… recall just the one. A story of Gildorul of Keld. Before a great battle in Nordruuk.’

‘Then what are they? How are we supposed to fight them?’

His mouth gaped. ‘Reapers. They were named Reapers. They come from the Underworld to lay claim to the souls of those about to die.’

She grasped his forearm. ‘But are they real, Bardon? Should we retreat?’

His wide eyes stayed fixed on the creatures. ‘I… I’m afraid I don’t know, Elodi. I never thought they existed. I assumed they were a creation of our storytellers.’ The ground shuddered as the Reapers stepped over the trench and swung their giant scythes. Elodi ducked as a gust of foul air blew over their heads. The Reaper at the center stopped, then leveled the tip of its long blade at Elodi’s heart. It stooped, thrusting its large head forward to lock eyes with Elodi. Slowly, it lifted the blade above its head. She froze. The Reaper made its intention known — it would slice her open, rip out her heart, and banish her soul to its vault deep beneath the mountains in the north. There she would be confined for eternity, and at the mercy of the beast’s dark desires. Through her tight throat she managed only one word. ‘Bardon?’ But he too was held in the grasp of the Reaper.

Elodi clutched her chest and screamed. The Amayan within resisted. The hold released. She gasped for air as the Reapers’ blades swished again across their ranks. Elodi cried out against the reek of decaying flesh. ‘They want to take us all!’ Some fell on their faces, crying out, some braved the assault, but others turned and fled. Elodi forced herself upright. She found her voice. It rang clear across the plain. ‘Hold the line! Do not fear them!’ Her body burned. Amayan Fire!

Elodi threw off her helm, tossed her breastplate and armor into the dirt, then urged Sea Mist forward. ‘Be brave, Misty. Be brave for me once more.’ Her loyal horse answered her call. His back rose as he surged towards the danger. Elodi yelled at the Reapers. ‘I am an Amayan! Begone, craven beasts. You do not belong here.’ She thrust her sword to the sky. A bolt of blue burst forth, flooding the plain, and blasting the eyes of all who dared to challenge her.

The Reapers halted. She drew up Sea Mist twenty paces short. All three fixed their gaze on Elodi. But horse and rider refused to cower. She praised her mount. ‘Brave boy, Misty.’ She met the glare of the creature at the center and bellowed. ‘I deny you. The souls of my army are not yours to take. You have no claim here.’ Their mournful call ceased; the battlefield held its breath. Sea Mist snorted. Elodi leveled her sword at the chest of the opposing Reaper. ‘Go back to your dark pits!’ She unleashed a second bolt. The Reapers wavered and staggered back. Their eyes dimmed. Smoke billowed and swirled about their shrinking forms. Then their spirits fled back from where they had come, and their bodies fell as ashes, soon to be blown from the battlefield.

A sword clashed on a shield. Dorlan sat at the head of Calerdorn’s captured knights. He grinned. ‘I admire your courage, Elodi. But that was just a taste of what will come. As a reward, I will allow you to return to your line. But this time, there is no place for you to run and hide.’ He jabbed his sword at her. ‘Your life is mine, Elodi. And I will take your head as a trophy for the walls of Calerdorn. But not before I have had—’

‘I know of your past, Dorlan.’ Elodi calmly replied. ‘I pity you. I pity what you have become.’ The great knight’s mouth twitched. She continued. ‘Today, we shall free you from the dark that enslaves your soul.’ She swept her sword across the front line behind Dorlan. ‘And all who dare to take one more step into our realm, will feel the pain of our steel.’

Dorlan scoffed. ‘You shall eat your empty words before the day is out. I shall trample your army’s bones into the plain, but as for you, Lady Harlyn. I shall take you back to Calerdorn and parade you before your people. Then I shall humiliate you, and then take—’

Elodi turned her back and kicked on Sea Mist, but only at a trot. She passed one of the hideouts behind the trench. The guard inside caught her eye. ‘We held our position, ma’am, just as you commanded.’

She kept her eyes ahead and spoke as loud as she dared. ‘Your bravery is surpassed by none. Await my signal. And may the Three be with you.’

Elodi reached her line. Those who had fled returned to their positions but could not look their leader in the eye. Elodi gazed upon them with pity. The fire still burned within. Her voice carried across the plain. ‘Do not be ashamed of your fear. You were tested beyond your limits. But it is in such times we find our true strength. Stand now. Stand together. And stand firm.’

Bardon sat aghast. ‘That was… if I ever… I don’t think those creatures could have conceived you’d charge straight at them.’

She managed a smile. ‘Neither did I. But by the Three, Bardon, those demons should have turned and taken their pick of the rotten lot behind—’ A thunderclap ripped across the sky. Elodi looked up, convinced the dome had cracked. ‘I think the pleasantries are done.’ She steadied Sea Mist and cried out. ‘For the Realms!’ Another crack from the storm clouds drowned her words. The cold rain lashed on their heads. The enemy mass ranks advanced.