Chapter 35

“The being called Ignis has been a matter of debate among the sects for centuries. We know him as some sort of fiery immortal creature whose sole purpose is to burn down the Tree of Life and all her creations because of jealousy. Yet we are also to believe, according to history, that he can disguise himself, deceive humans repeatedly, and even summon a horde of monsters to achieve his goals.”

Faith in the Guardian by Grand Arboler Norman Thicket, year 4021

Walls

The weather didn’t seem to want to agree with the setting. A massive army of Forids and Barklians waited outside of Magen City, about to begin their slaughter and annihilation of a nation. And the birds were singing. The air was warm with a gentle breeze. The setting sun cast elegant red and orange hues across the cloud-speckled sky. It didn’t seem right.

Or maybe it did, Silas thought. Maybe it was Life, showing us mercy by letting our last light of day be one of beauty.

He slapped the stone wall with the palm of his hand. Can’t think like that. We have to stop them. Have to. Life send that we stop them.

Lennox’s army wasn’t as big as it was at Cambium, but it still staggered Silas just how many white-robed mages and blue-clad soldiers he saw below. Enough to surround the entire span of Magen City’s western walls.

Those two-story walls stretched from the lake north of Magen City, curved around the city’s large expanse on the west, cornered near the forest to the south, cut east until connected with the base of Mount Spruce. The northern side of the city was protected by the lake, and the eastern was protected by the mountain. The only entrances to the city were the gate on the west and the gate on the south. Both were heavily guarded, though most of the mages were stationed along the western wall, since Lennox’s army marched from that direction.

Silas’ scribes estimated about five thousand Forids and nine thousand Barklians. The army marched through the field of stumps like a flood, and with an impressive pace, considering that they’ve had little to no rest since their siege on Cambium the day before.

“Lennox has pushed them hard,” Captain Fields said, staring down at the enemy below. “He didn’t want to give us a chance to prepare our defenses. I’d imagine he will attack the moment they reach the walls.”

Silas nodded. “Then let’s slow them down.” He raised his hand for a signal. Thousands of archers within the walls twirled their ash arrows, Casting fire, and then armed their bows. He held his hand up, waiting. The archers pulled back on their bowstrings. He took a deep breath… patient.

And then he spotted him.

The false guardian rode his white horse at the rear of the army. Silas could make out his tall figure and long, black locks. He was too far to make out details, but he was sure it was Lennox.

Silas’ blood began to boil. Lennox wasn’t the man who shot the arrow, but he was the one who gave the order.

The general felt a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll get your moment, Silas,” Fields said. “Ilan will be avenged.”

A fury which Silas had never experienced before burned in his chest; it burned, never diminishing—festering revenge. “Today,” Silas whispered, “either he or I will die.” He emphasized the promise by dropping his hand.

An eruption of fire-tipped arrows swooshed past him, filling the early evening sky with light. They soared high until they reached their apex, then descended upon the enemy, piercing and burning many on the spot; most, however, bounced off metal and magical shields.

Lennox’s men let out a terrible war cry as they charged. The sound hit Silas like a wall.

Enemy archers returned a volley of fiery arrows. Barklian soldiers dashed toward the eastern and southern gates with battering rams. Forid mages Cast ebony wands and ash-willow staves themselves, pushing them into the air, attempting to fly over the walls with a jet of fire behind them… just like they had at Cambium.

But this was not Cambium.

Enemy arrows harmlessly clinked off Magen City’s stone walls. Some flew over the walls and landed on the cobble-stoned streets. A few below were struck, but most deflected the arrows with their shields.

“Raise the palisades!” Silas commanded.

To the rhythm of war drums, hundreds of Salverian soldiers pulled on dozens of long ropes draped over the walls. They hoisted series of wooden stakes until they locked in place atop the walls, making the top of the walls more… thorny. Mages could easily fly over the stakes, yes, but they made it more dangerous to land on the walls. The Salverians could still move along the wall walk, maneuvering around the stakes with ease.

Silas felt his blood pulsing to the beat of the drums. “Fire at will!”

Salverian archers and mages aimed their bows, wands, and staves through embrasures in the wall and loosed their arrows and lightning bolts down on the enemy below, dropping hundreds. More aimed their weapons upward to shoot down enemy mages who attempted to fly over the wall.

Some airborne mages Cast elm with their ebony-elm wands as they flew, blocking the attacks with their magical shields. Several arrows and lightning bolts struck true. One electrocuted mage dropped his ebony wand, which continued to float in the air as he fell atop the wall walk, impaling himself through one of the wooden stakes.

Another mage, struck by an arrow in the shoulder, somehow clung to his ebony wand but dropped his ash-willow staff, which spun erratically, shooting out wind and fire as it fell into a sea of Barklian soldiers below. He floated heavenward until eventually his wand extinguished its magic, causing him to fall, screaming to his death.

As they flew over the walls, they Cast down fire on the Salverians. Silas heard the shrieks and groans of his injured men around him.

A few white-robed mages used birch-willow staves instead of ash-willow, becoming completely invisible as they flew over the walls. One suddenly appeared after she was struck by a stray arrow, dropping her birch wand and falling.

The enemy mages managed to make it over the walls and landed in Magen City’s large, cobble-stoned streets where thousands of green-robed Salverian mages and soldiers waited to meet them. Ashley led the mages that fought there, viciously defending the inner city. It was an advantageous spot for Salveria because they had access to multiple hidden weapon carts.

The rule to magery battles was in their favor this time; they had more magic.

The Forids attempted to burn or abduct the carts for themselves, but each cart was heavily guarded by several mages with elm staves, Casting twelve-foot long extensions. Salverian runners delivered maple wands from the carts to injured mages, healing them to full health. Maple was primarily reserved for mages. Medics helped the soldiers.

Silas watched the battle carefully. Flying over the walls was risky for the Forids; about half of them made it to the other side. It seemed foolhardy, but those who did were superior fighters who Cast fire in sweeping arcs, making a brutal dent in Salveria’s defenses.

Some Forids carefully avoided the palisades and managed to land on the walls, killing the Salverians around them. They brought bundles of staves and wands with them to supply their forces with magic as they fought.

Unfortunately for them, General Silas Jarrah stationed himself atop the walls.

Salveria was his home. His people. His nation. He had to protect them. Had to defend them. They took Ilan.

No more, he thought.

Silas twirled an ebony-willow log—as big as a man’s leg—and Cast himself into the air above the walls. With a mahogany staff, he performed its Carving and carefully aimed. Streaks of lightning shot from its tip as he flew. Enemy mages dropped from the sky left and right.

Two Forids chased after Silas, following close behind him. He leaned hard, pulling his log into a sharp turn, narrowly evading a lightning bolt that streaked over his shoulder. With his feet placed under the log’s handles, Silas flipped his upper body backwards, completely upside down, aiming his mahogany staff at the mages behind him.

Two flashes. Two more down.

A dozen Forids closed in on Silas, flying after him. He righted himself and leaned hard, dodging lightning bolts. Behind him, he heard a trill of thunder, causing his ears to ring. He turned around to see Captain Fields and hundreds of Salverian mages, flying on ebony-willow logs like him, downing the invading Forids one by one.

The airspace above Magen City’s walls became filled with green and white-robed mages shooting fire and lightning at each other. A few blue-robed Barklian mages joined the fray. Occasionally, a lightning bolt would appear out of nowhere, Cast by an invisible mage. Dozens of mages fell from the sky every minute, landing on the palisades, on the grass without the city, or on the cobble-stoned streets within.

A quick glance told Silas a few too many Forids were landing on the northwestern section of the walls, attempting to abduct one of the weapon carts stationed there. “Secure the walls!” he shouted. Captain Fields led his troop of mages there, picking off foes as they went. Silas and his troop stayed above the western gate.

The Forids Cast fire on the palisades. Some burnt down, but most were saved by Salverian mages who Cast water on them.

Although the weapon carts atop the walls were under heavy attack, they remained in Salveria’s control. Thank Life, Silas thought.

His mahogany staff extinguished its magic, so he flew toward the nearest cart. One of the mages guarding it grabbed a fresh mahogany staff from the cart and held it up high. As he flew over the cart, Silas snatched it out of the mage’s hand. He twirled it swiftly as he flew back to the air above the walls, performing the mahogany Carving; electricity appeared at its tip.

Hundreds of Salverian mages made the same trip, coming back with fresh staves. The Forids’ magic was running out.

The battle seemed to be in Salveria’s favor. The Barklians hadn’t broken through the gates yet with their battering rams. And with Silas and the other mages protecting the skies, the Forids didn’t seem to gain any advantage.

That was until a huge swarm of Forid mages flew low and unitedly landed on the walls just above the western gate, where most of the palisades had been burnt down. They fought atop the walls and quickly overpowered two weapon carts. Silas and dozens of his men reoriented their logs and descended toward the gate.

Silas was the first to land atop the wall walk. He let go of his log, aiming it at the Forids before him. It barreled ahead of him but was easily deflected by one of the mage’s elm extension. Pulling an elm wand out of his robes, Silas charged toward the group of Forids, but then he froze in place when a tall figure landed on the wall, just in front of him.

The Forid king himself, Lennox Elmson, stood there, spinning his dual-oriented staff in his right hand. “General Jarrah,” he said, a calm confidence in his battle stance. “It’s time for you to join your son in the afterlife.”