But before that day, a great battle, as never seen before will be joined.

And the mortal god of the South will rise up for war against the divinities of the North.

On that day, an angel flying through the heavens will cry out, “Woe, woe, woe, to the inhabiters of the earth.”

- Andanian Chronicles

“Pikes forward, stand your ground!” the Vaishyan officers commanded desperately. The soldiers muttered dubiously as they eyed the blazing tide of smoking ruination sweeping toward them. The Waters of Merom steamed as the Burning Legions rolled straight into the rapidly flowing river without pause, and even the churning icy liquid was completely vaporized by their flames.

“What’s that? Those massive things weren’t in the briefing!” A cavalry captain sweated from the radiating heat as he questioned the diviner beside him, “How are we going to defeat that?” he gestured at the twenty meter giants leading each division of the Legions.

The diviner wiped the sweat off his brow as he clutched at his head, “I don’t know!” He muttered with a look of horror as he swayed sickly and vomited before falling off his horse.

“Medic!” The captain yelled, “What’s wrong with all these Talented? They are collapsing like flies, even before the battle. How are we going to face those monsters without any defensive enchantments?” Horns blared with panicked commands and the captain rode swiftly down his line of heavy cavalry, “Lances forward!” he commanded, “Charge!” Twenty thousand heavily armored Vaishyan armored knights surged forward as one to push the emerging enemy back into the river, and the sound of thundering hoofs reverberated through the land.

Just then, the charge was disrupted as yet another massive shockwave reverberated through the battlefield. The closest horses were simply blown off their feet by the explosion, while the more distant steeds panicked and shied away from the terrifying combination of supernatural noise and conflagration. Less than a tenth of the scattered knights remained mounted as they plunged headlong into the billowing smoking darkness that had swallowed the parched riverbed. Then there were a multitude of loud agonized screams, followed by an eerie deathly silence. And the clouds of choking gloom surged forward yet again and smashed straight into the horrified disorganized infantry.

….

“Stop… this is far enough.” Laura panted weakly as the knights galloped up the nearest hillside and towards the Vaishya encampment.

“But your Royal Highness, our orders were to…” the knight did not let up from his breakneck retreat from the inhuman Saadian beast roaring behind him.

Laura regurgitated a large mouthful of blood that stained his charger’s mane with a deep shade of sticky red. “This violent galloping… you’re killing me, I can’t take it any longer…” she gasped as she stuck a tiny square talisman secretly on the horse’s neck.

The knight pulled desperately at the reins to slow his horse, “Royal Highness… we must treat your…”

Laura exploited his momental concern to decapitate his steed and send them plunging headlong into the hillside. Then she broke free from the stunned knight’s grasp and shrugged to her feet before brandishing another charm as his companion approached warily, “Food!” she commanded desperately, “Give me all the food you have in your saddlebags!”

“What do you mean by food?” the mounted knight muttered suspiciously as his eyes darted to his moaning partner on the ground.

“By Krall’s twisted tentacles,” Laura swore, “if you do not hand over all your rations this instant, I’ll shred you limb from limb with my next spell!”

The knight narrowed his eyes as he considered the threat, “Do your worst. Our High Prince’s orders were to ensure your safety at any cost.”

“At any cost?” the witch spat. “And you would even sacrifice Aryan, your master? Because as surely as Krall lives, Xerxes will squash him like a bug while you dither over mere technicalities here!”

The knight frowned as he dismounted and retrieved a small package of dried jerky from his stores, “Here,” he muttered as he tossed it at the princess.

“Good…” Laura’s eyes remained fixed on the soldier as the bundle landed next to her feet with a thud, “Now turn around and get me my zither! It should still be in Aryan’s tent.”

“What zither?” The knight stammered, “You mean the musical type?”

“Yes!” The witch snapped, “The one with strings and a wooden soundboard. Bring it to me undamaged, like your life depends on it! Because the fates of both your prince and the entire Vaishyan army rests on that instrument!”

“But my orders were…” the soldier stammered.

“Hop on it you fool!” the princess moaned as she fell weakly to her knees, “Or what’s left of history will remember you forever as the hesitating traitor who doomed his entire kingdom!”

The man gulped fearfully as he fled back to his waiting steed before riding urgently into the distance. And Laura sighed with relief as she lay down in the grass, stuffed the tasteless meat into her mouth, and chewed desperately. The downed officer groaned and his heavy armor clanked loudly as he rose slowly to his feet behind the prone princess. “Royal Highness… what in the world? By the Vaishyan high gods!” He swore as he finally noticed the condition of his mount.

“Good, you are finally awake. Draw your sword and start cutting up that horse! The fate of your entire kingdom depends on it!” Laura ordered.

“What!?” The man cursed furiously, “That was my best companion. Do you know how many campaigns we have…”

The princess sighed as the blood gushing unchecked from her countless injuries continued to stain the withered grass around her, “Is all of Vaishya filled only with a bunch of hopeless romantics? I need more food to fix my body. If I die here before stopping Xerxes, he will kill your prince before massacring your army and razing Calcutta to the ground! And all the remnants of Vaishya will remember you as the man who stood idly by as all his nation was doomed before his eyes. Start cutting you fool, and start a fire too while you are at it!”

The tearful officer gulped in horror as he drew his weapon and chopped fanatically at the fallen corpse of his dearest animal friend.

…

The prince’s aim was true and his wooden lance pierced through the lion’s heart, even as the beast staggered upright. But Xerxes roared with fury as the spear shattered harmlessly within his body, then he raced after Aryan’s steed and grabbed it by the hind legs with his bare hands before hurling both rider and animal high into the air. The two dozen escorting knights charged forward bravely with lowered lances to ensure the safety of their prince, but the Lion of Saadian laughed mockingly as he flickered forward like the wind to confront them and decapitated the nearest warrior by punching off his head. Then he grabbed the bloody helmeted skull before it could fly away and hurled it at the next soldier. The thundering impact crushed through his armor, snapped his spine, and blew the paralyzed man off his horse. The remaining knights drew their swords and fought back desperately as Xerxes blurred rapidly among them, but they stood no chance against his supernatural majesty. Their blood was spilt, their limbs were torn, and their bones were shattered effortlessly by the unstoppable king of beasts.

But the lion paused warily in mid-pounce as he glared at the couple that materialized suddenly before him. And his eyes widened with surprise as Aryan groaned before drawing his sword and rising slowly to his feet. “Who are you?” He thundered.

Amir bowed mockingly, “Greetings Emperor of Saadian. I am Amir Ishmael Zimran, the crown prince of Vaishya.”

An enchanted arrow whistled through the air, pierced straight through his back, and into Xerxes’ heart. He roared with rage as he whirled and pointed his staff at the man who had snuck up behind him, “High gods of Saadian! Answer my call!” He commanded and his staff spat out a howling magic that devastated the land.

But Abel remained unscathed, “And I am Abel Ishmael Zimran.” His relaxed laughter chimed refreshingly through the air, “It appears that even your supposedly divine magics are ineffective against me.” He chortled as he nocked another arrow to his bow.

Aryan stepped up beside his eldest brother, “And I am Aryan Ishmael Zimran. We have come to slay you, and this land will be your tomb.”

The mighty emperor guffawed loudly and wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, “An enchanted sword, magical resistance, and regeneration. Your gods were fools to spread out their paltry divine gifts among so many people. If they had granted all these treasures to that sorceress from before, I might have been forced to fight for my survival. As it is, you each possess so many individual weaknesses that you’re hardly worth crushing!” The lion’s eyes bored into the silent veiled enchantress standing beside Amir, “No. What I really want to know is, who are you?”

Her soft ethereal voice tinkled across the blasted battlefield, “I am Phoebe, daughter of Dagon, and the Divine Enchantress of Vaishya.”

“Leave us,” Xerxes snapped arrogantly. “The gods swore never to interfere directly in the affairs of mortals, it would be a pity if I harmed you by accident.”

The air around Phoebe shimmered with visualized power, “Defeating you would hardly count as interference. Collectively, the godly gifts and Talent you possess have already propelled you well into the ranks of divinity. Verethragna is the one at fault for encouraging a divine war by proxy.”

The bottomless pools of the lion’s dark green eyes flashed with rage, “So be it!” He roared, “Dagon will soon mourn the loss of one of his daughters!” Then he jabbed his glowing staff directly at the enchantress and opened his mouth, “High gods of Saadian! Answer my call!” He demanded as his Talent flared up to rend the heavens apart.

“What a crude waste of power!” the celestial enchantress mocked as she strode forward to meet the lion’s roar of magic. And her smaller Talent surged up to almost rival his in magnitude as an endlessly intricate circle of divine runes crackled between her long graceful fingers. The timeless hieroglyphics spun with a mind-blowing complexity that would have instantly driven any ordinary mortal insane, and Phoebe serenaded gracefully as she sang and danced in perfect harmony within the storm of unfathomable force gathering around her.

…

Unnoticed by the other combatants, a trembling little kitty cat, camouflaged deep within her sneakiest concealment magics, crept up silently before a dying knight, “Psst…” she whispered urgently to the broken, paralyzed man bleeding out swiftly before her, “will you give your life to save Prince Aryan?” The man’s dulling eyes widened with almost unconscious recognition as he stared blindly into the swiftly approaching afterlife, and he opened his mouth and croaked out a single word with his final breath. Mirror purred eagerly in response as her mouth was instantly filled with the magical willingness of sweet, sweet blood. Then she darted furtively to the next dying soldier on the vast battlefield and repeated her request, again and again.