Stars' Light, page 47
Syrreth remained silent.
Jorian looked out towards the peninsula, where the Defiant had brought them from Bosc City and where Kiril, Sarannya, and Masamiria needed him. He felt the presence of Aviel, his one time student, and now his enemy. He felt it within the light around him. There is light even in darkness. The light touches everything; connects everything.
Jorian closed his eyes, opening himself up to it. He followed the light as he would follow the strands to his enemy. He could sense that Aviel was indeed here, and making preparations to march on Bosc City. The Darkening was now in full swing. The war had truly begun. Zorian was right. This Darkening was going to be like the great war in the beginning, when he, Analia, Azarai, and Katerina had originally fought against the Darkness and the Fallen.
“We are ready, General,” Syrreth said, looking down at Jorian. He could see that Jorian was thinking, putting the pieces together.
Jorian nodded, following the light to Sarannya, Kiril, and Masamiria. He could feel they were in danger and needed help. He could sense the amount of light they were about to use in their defense. It would not be long, and they would be out of light. It was amazing that he could sense them, and sense what was about to happen and what they might do. This is how you use the strands! Or at least the beginning to how you use the strands. He turned quickly, and lightly jumped up onto Syrreth’s wing. He settled himself into his dragon saddle and paused, looking around for Titan.
“No worries, General. I had Titan sent back on the Defiant as soon as you entered our caves. He will make it home.”
Jorian’s voice rolled out among the dragon wing. “We need to hurry. We are running out of time, and I have a promise to keep.”
Syrreth lept into the air, his large wings creating a massive downdraft. There was a deep hush in the world as a flight of nine dragons took to the air. It had been since the time of legend that dragons had flown the skies. They had been written about in stories, immortalized as demons and villains in the many myths and fairy tales that had persisted, but now they flew again, and Jorian would make sure their reputation was well founded.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Sarannya kept looking back over her shoulder. She felt like she was being watched, but she also kept hoping to see the General. And every time she looked, more disappointment rose within her, until this last time, when she finally knew that he was not coming.
She wiped her brow to clear the ash that was sticking to her. The wall they had called up from the ground had helped protect them from the surging forces of Fallen. It was about three feet high and completely surrounded them in a large circle. Beyond it, concentric circles expanded out from this central, defensible position. It was only a matter of time now. The Fallen warriors were no longer hiding behind human soldiers, as all the human soldiers were dead.
Her archers had made the enemy pay dearly. With her, Kiril, and Masamiria helping, their arrows had easily found open spots and weak points that not only included armor, but the Essences as well. Bodies were everywhere, both within the circle, and outside of it. They had destroyed almost five to one, if she had to guess, and still, the enemy came.
Sarannya felt sick to her stomach. She had been commanding this battle, and she felt she had done a terrible job, but there was no real way to win. There were just too many Fallen, and so many of her troops were dead or dying. If the General had been here, it would have been much different. She regretted not following Masamiria, but she knew in her heart, they would already have lost going his way. At least now, they could go out making the enemy pay a huge cost for their deaths.
Kiril stepped back from his units, watching Fallen pull away as another wave was repelled. He turned and looked to Sarannya, who had positioned herself between him and Masamiria. She had borne the brunt of nearly every attack, as the enemy seemed fixated on her. He could see she was exhausted, and the battle was starting to tax her resolve and morale. He started to walk towards her, and her grey eyes met his. He smiled at her, noting her hair was still up in its simple braids, a few strands framing her face now, loosened by her exertions. He could see the doubt in her eyes, the despair starting to seep in.
Sarannya gave him a thin smile as Kiril approached her. “We can’t keep doing this. I was hoping the General would be here by now, but I can see that he will not be coming.” Her voice was full of frustration and defeat.
Kiril took a moment before he responded, looking out over what was left of their army. If you could call it that. They were so few, standing against so many. He considered his words carefully. “You have done a great job here, but the battle is not over. You need to focus on the present moment. You need to figure out how to survive this without waiting on someone else to save you.”
Sarannya felt a pang in her chest, and it became hard for her to breathe. She was waiting for someone else to save her. She was waiting on the General, and he was not here. She did not know where these feelings were coming from. Her parents had always been there for her, and they had trained her to make her own decisions and to stand by them. They had taught her discipline, and she had never been abandoned.
A flash of emotion zipped through her body. If she was going to die, then fuck it. She would at least die on her own terms. She knelt down, and a fierceness came over her. Her voice took on a more commanding and aggressive tone. “I have an idea, but I don’t know if we have enough light to pull it off. It won’t win the battle, but it will give us a bit more time, and we will kill a whole lot of Fallen. It will take the right timing to pull it off.”
Masamiria walked up to them and looked down at her. “So…?”
Markos crested the pass and looked down. About a mile out, he could see the enemy behind multiple concentric walls they’d built in ever tighter circles. It was a good defense, and he could also see that his losses were great. The entirety of his human cavalry and soldiers were destroyed, as well as his demon dog packs. Even many of his Fallen units had suffered heavy casualties.
“Situation?” Markos asked, putting his spotting scope down as an officer came up to him and saluted, making sure to not get within sword range.
“General, we have not been able to totally break them yet, but we are close. The Tracian Knights are in the center, and they have been using concentric rings of earth and rock in a capable defense. It has made our cavalry almost useless. Some have made it over the wall, but were quickly brought down. We have been using the cavalry to harass and pin down any attempt at escape, while the infantry attempts to break through. If we had more units, we could overwhelm them.”
“What about our archers?” Markos asked, ignoring the fact that his officers thought of the enemy as Tracian Knights. There was only one knight down there.
“Useless. They are overwhelming us with their own arrows. They have an inordinate amount of light at their disposal. We are barely holding off their attacks with the Essences. The knights are doing a good job of working together and screening our attacks. They are also punching holes in our defenses, which is allowing their arrows through. In short, we are struggling, General,” the Fallen reported. His curved horns were curled, and not command horns. All of the officers were dead. He was the highest ranking soldier left on the field, and he had pulled back to make his report before he was not able to do so.
Markos sighed. He did not want to send more of his units down there, but he knew that if he wanted to entirely crush them, he would need to. He also knew that he would need someone to lead them. He began to think. Who was left that could face the spy and his acolytes? There was no one up to the task. By the cursed veil, he was not up to the task, and he could not go into battle. Chenda was also down, barely holding on.
Markos took in a deep breath and looked around. This would be a great boon for the Fifth Army. “Bring Major Fellmirr up to me, and I want you to notify Major Anton Koit to prepare the entirety of the Third, or what is left of it.”
“Of course, General.” The young Sergeant bowed and backed away, before turning to carry out his orders.
Markos called over one of the signal commanders. “Signal the troops to move back and to not engage. I do not want them to allow the enemy to leave. We only need to keep them there while I prepare for the final engagement.”
“Yes, General.”
Sarannya moved to her right, an enemy sword just missing her. She covered the attack with War Bringer and brought Retribution down into the Fallen’s neck. His movement faltered as he realized it was over. He stumbled forward, his sword tumbling from his grip. As he fell, his body cascaded into ash, landing at her feet.
Sarannya did not even notice. She was already engaged with another. She could feel the tug of the wind, and the stirring of the ground under her feet as the enemy attempted to gain control of the natural environment through the Essences. She felt like she was moving through water. Her body felt slow and sluggish. It did not feel like it had before, during the earlier battles. It was as if she had lost something, but she did not know what it was.
“You have lost nothing. You will eventually reconnect with it, but it will take time,” War Bringer responded to her thoughts.
“We need to focus if we are going to have enough time for her to reconnect with those lost memories and skills,” Retribution chastised her brother.
“What are the two of you talking about?” Sarannya asked, stabbing her most recent foe in the eye. He fell backward, clutching at his face before crumbling into ash. She stepped back from the low wall and looked around. Kiril was stood close by, doing the same. It appeared as if the enemy was breaking off.
She looked back towards Lubos. He was wiping blood from his blade, and he nodded to her and began walking towards her. Her unit was still up, sending arrows into the enemy as they pulled back and took up position just out of bow range. She exhaled a long breath, noting that they were completely surrounded.
“You were right, General. Had we run, we would not have made the ships. At least here, we are still alive, and we can still kill Fallen.” Lubos smiled a rare smile while sheathing his sword.
Sarannya did not know what to say. She was angry and hurt. The General said he would not let her down, but here they were, and he was nowhere to be found. Soon, everyone here would be overwhelmed, and she wouldn’t see Lubos smile at her ever again. She was doing her best to control her emotions.
Masamiria joined them, placing his hand on Sarannya’s shoulder. “Your idea was a good one. We have damaged the enemy, while only sustaining minimal casualties with each wave ourselves. How did you know this would work?”
“Ten Stones. I have used this strategy before in that game, and it worked against my brothers and sisters, who used to always beat me.” Her voice was soft and full of sadness as she looked around at the bodies that littered the ground all around. Her people were moving them out of the way with care, as many of them had been friends or neighbors.
“He will be here. We just have to hold out long enough. Whatever it is that he is doing, I know that he will come as quickly as he can. He gave you his word.”
Sarannya remembered what Jorian had told her in the library. “I will not leave until you are ready; until you have matured in your understanding and are able to walk on your own. I shall stay to be your shelter from the storm. In these arms and in my presence, you shall always find peace.” It was why she had taken the War Blades in the first place. She had seen this, images of war and death, when she had first met the General, and again in the library. This is not what she had wanted, but she also knew she could make a difference. She had felt it in her heart when she had been offered the chance to train, and when she had taken her swords.
Sarannya remained quiet and nodded her head, trying to hold back her tears of frustration, even as they ran down her cheeks. This was an aspect of being a girl that she really did not like. Well, her cycle as well. She could get rid of that too, she mused.
“They are massing for one final attack.” Kiril pointed his sword up towards the mouth of the pass where thousands of Fallen were coming down onto the plains towards them. He looked over at Sarannya, noticing the tears. “Are you wounded? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She wiped her cheeks with the ragged sleeve of her top. She took a moment and looked at Lubos, Masamiria, and Kiril. “I don’t have anything left. I’m almost out of light. I’m exhausted. And I feel betrayed, even though I’m trying to remain hopeful. I don’t know what else to do, other than the final plan.” She took in the concentric rings of walls they had built. The inordinate amount of ash that colored the ground and dirtied the snow in grey. The bodies that were being moved. It all was like deja vu. It was like she had done this before, but she could not quite place it.
“Kiril…what do you think? Do you have any other ideas?” Sarannya asked.
“I think it is time we enact the final strategy, and we place General Masamiria between us. He becomes the center, and as things get worse, we close in on him and fight to the end.” Kiril lowered Wrath, where the sword rested near his leg. The runes were dripping light, and its illumination showed the weariness etched on all of their faces. He stared into Sarannya’s grey eyes. The blue of his gaze sparkled as gold flecks could now be seen in his irises. There was still light seeping out him, so they had just a hint of a glow. He noticed that tiny gold flecks were starting to appear in Sarannya’s irises. “And then we enact your final plan,” he said.
Sarannya smiled at him, and placed her hand on his arm. She turned towards Masamiria, asking him his opinion without saying a word.
“I agree with Kiril. It is time I take the center. I want the two of you to stay close to me. I will be able to call upon a significant amount of light before we reach the end.” Masamiria paused, looking at the two young faces before him, and Lubos, who was standing not far away. “He’ll be here. Have faith. He has never broken his word in all the millenia that I have known him. He…will…make it.” Masamiria punctuated that last for effect.
Sarannya wiped her eyes again, nodding her head. Masamiria’s faith was catching. It bolstered her and gave her strength. “Okay.”
“Get your units in to some type of organization. Lets make another ring and get ready for the final push.”
“Yes, General,” Sarannya and Kiril said together. They both moved off to organize what was left of their units.
Markos had moved down deeper into the pass. Wave after wave of his army had attacked the rings stone and earth. And every time, they had been defeated. He sighed in frustration. He turned his spyglass on Major Fellmirr, who was repositioning his units for another wave.
“Give the order for a full assault. No more waves. Crush them, no matter the losses,” Markos said, never letting his looking glass leave Fellmirr, who turned to look back at the command flags. He bowed his head, dipping his golden horns and turned back to issue the orders.
Markos watched in trepidation as what was left of the Fifth and Third armies arranged themselves for the final attack.
Fallen broke over the walls all around them. War Bringer, Retribution, and Wrath flashed out, killing any and all that came within range. Lubos stayed in the ring of light as the rest of his unit were slowly overrun and killed. He fought with the ferocity of ten men, stabbing, cutting, kicking, and grappling with the enemy. He was in a perfect flow with the two Colonels, as lady Estonya had given up her rank of General to the blacksmith.
Sarannya and Kiril were a devastating force. They fought back to back, having been pushed to a final point with the rest of their units crushed before the onslaught of Fallen. Sarannya’s silver eyes caught everything. She intercepted blades and Essences that were not only aimed at her, but Kiril, and he was doing the same for her. Masamiria was just ahead of them, and he began to pulse with light.
“First of three,” he intoned around them, his voice reverberating up the pass. He unleashed a massive light ring that exploded out from him, and then another, and another. The light cut through the enemy by the hundreds. Bodies exploded into ash. The entire center of the Fallen army was destroyed.
Sarannya watched as Masamiria went down to one knee. There would be no more light from him. “To the General!” she called, moving forward. Kiril bent down and placed light into Masamiria, who could not stand. When the last of their army was with them, Sarannya erected a rock wall around them, encircling them completely, like a ball. Kiril began to bond the inside of it in the small amount of time they had before the enemy could regroup.
Sarannya looked around at the twenty of them left. Cyril, Martin, and Peter were gone. Danica and Klara were here, but they were wounded, having sat down in the grass to stop the bleeding from a multitude of cuts. Lubos was helping them. As silence grew around them; a silence only rock and dirt could provide, they looked over at her and saluted. This was a time of returning legends and myths. Even if they died here, it was worth it to be a part of this time, and to witness it firsthand. If they did live, how would they ever talk to others about rock sprouting from the dirt, or blood streaming through the air to perform devastating and lethal attacks? It was something that words could not adequately portray.
Sarannya allowed the light to mist off of her and nodded at her people before turning back to Kiril, who was pouring the last of his light into Masamiria.
“No. No. Let me go. It is not a problem. I have been here many times,” Masamiria whispered, trying to wave off Kiril to no effect.
