Chapter XXXV

“Oh, God, creator of all Erets, I ask that you grant us the most precious of all gifts, that of peace. Please, work on all our hearts, God, lead us to better days, where swords are melted down and made into farming tools, where your children are no longer spilling each other's blood because of hate, greed, or lust. May your faithful followers be the peace-makers for all the world, may we spread the word of a better way of life. Please lead us to a world so peaceful that all nations forget what war ever was.”

Galia had said the prayer nearly every day for years now, and more than ever she felt as if it was in vain. She understood that her God's powers were limited. She knew that he was working against other forces at work in the world, and most of them truly loved conflict, but a part of her sometimes wondered if perhaps her God wasn't a driving force in much of the conflict as well. After all, when the Arxian army, led by a paladin queen, took Nihilus there were many converts to the Agalmite faith, some of them even sincere. While the Obelisk of the Law in Aius, the capital of Arx, had been destroyed the war sixteen years ago had made the kingdom of Arx stronger than it had ever been. It helped to spread the Agalmite faith. Had her God not benefited from that war?

Then she remembered something Ardal said, many years ago. Whenever children asked him why he called Saklas, the Agalmite God, a tyrant, he would give them a different answer. On one occasion he said, “Look at history, most of the successful rulers and leaders in history were brutal tyrants who cut down anyone who stood against them. Look at the rich, even today. Can anyone become rich without giving in to wickedness and vice? Don't the rich exploit the poor, keeping them poor and making themselves richer as they steal from those below them? Then the poorest of all, the homeless in our cities, can typically only survive if they become pick-pockets, thieves, and thugs. This world is constantly rewarding evil, how can the one who created it, the one who rules it, be anything else?”

More than ever this argument rang true to her. The tyrannical Sir Gilad was only removed from power when the murderous Val took control of the city. When she'd been in the process of re-education in Agalmite temples Galia had been told that Therion, the late king of Nihilus, had been a vicious tyrant, overthrown in an uprising by his own people, and slain by the hand of God. Yet it was only a few years after Arx took over Nihilus that Duke Jachai began to oppress the Nihilite people, and employed the Inquisition to root out traitors. Evil was rewarded with power yet again.

Normally when she struggled with such a crisis of faith she turned to the Scriptures for comfort and help, but all of her books and scrolls had been burned up in the Violet Blaze, back when the temple was destroyed, so she had only what she could remember.

She remembered what Sir Kedem told her, back when he first taught her the Agalmite faith. “When you see people do terrible things and yet their evil results in good don't make the mistake of thinking that they did the right thing. Rather God makes good out of bad. That's what he did when he created Erets. In the midst of a cosmos ruled by chaos and evil he created a world that was a bastion of goodness, order, and hope. The Firmament blocks out the demons, unless warlocks here should conjure them, but it does not block out all of the chaos of the Void. The evil you see in the world today is the Void's influence in our lives.”

If that was true, then the demons of the Void appeared to be winning their conflict with God. Maybe that was the real reason why the Nihilites were so loyal to the demons, because they were winning the war for human souls.

Drums, bells, gongs, and other alarms interrupted Galia's train of thought, and she looked up to see everyone whom Val had deemed worthy to fight in his army rushing towards the walls. Another siege, this time just after sunset. It seemed word had spread about Val's solar-powered weapon, but Galia wasn't convinced that he didn't have something new and terrible cooked up. She wasn't allowed near the walls, but since the refugees had been working on reconstructing the town there were now some rooftops she could access which were high enough that she could see what was going on. She climbed up high enough to overlook the ensuing battle.

An enemy infantry approached, this time with catapults and trebuchet pulled in wagons beside them instead of merely battering rams. Among the regular Arxian soldiers Galia spotted the red cassocks of the Inquisition's witch-hunters and the white and blue armor of a select few paladins. Given the presence of the paladins, Galia found herself hopeful for a moment that perhaps the Arxians would win back the city, and this time the Church would take control of it. Since paladins were sworn to such a strict moral code there was no way they'd be the kinds of tyrants Sir Gilad and the inquisitors were. But then she remembered that paladins were involved in taking Bogeid the first time, and that even then Bogeid fell into tyrannical hands in short time. This was likely to be no different.

Ardal had been hopeful, after the refugees had arrived, that they had enough people now to make a difference. He hoped that perhaps there were enough people in Bogeid to be a strong military force, so long as they kept fortifying themselves, making bows, and fletching arrows. When he saw the approaching force, however, he realized how little any of that would matter. A part of him wished he had done as Val said and brewed acid, in hopes that the sheer horror of such an atrocity would scare off the Arxians. To his surprise, he found himself truly hoping Val had something horrific planned, otherwise he knew that nearly everyone in the city would be killed.

Val startled Ardal when he came up behind him, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and said, “Command of our forces here is your job. I have something else I have to attend to.”

“What the? Val! Where are you going?” Ardal shouted as Val rushed off towards the west wall of the city. “Damn it! Come back! You expect me to lead?” When Ardal turned he found that all of the archers on the wall were looking at him, awaiting orders. “By the Void! Fine! Knock arrows!”

Just as his archers got ready, Ardal heard the sound of something large thundering through the air in his direction. He looked up to see that the trebuchet had been fired, and a boulder flew at the city. Ardal dropped, instinctively, but soon saw that the boulder had been launched far over his head and crashed into the streets of Bogeid. The refugees inside screamed and ran as the boulder struck. They ducked aside as cobblestones and dirt filled the air.

As Ardal hit the ground he realized the serious advantage the Arxians had with such a weapon. The trebuchet could fire further than any weapon they had within the city, that he knew of, except for the solar-powered weapon, which was useless at night. If the Arxians wanted to they could simply bombard the city from a distance until the walls crumbled. They'd probably just need a few more shots, and then they'd be able to aim it right at the walls.

“Warlocks!” Ardal called out. “Conjure daemons!” It was the best plan he could come up with to counter the Arxians. They could send some of the faster daemons dashing across the field, and hope that they managed to destroy the trebuchet before the paladins slew them.

So the warlocks on the walls conjured all sorts of daemons to send at their enemies. There were some that looked like large lizards with six legs and the heads of birds, which scurried quickly across the field. Others looked like huge birds with human heads, and they soared over the field between Bogeid and the Arxian army. Some of the warlocks conjured daemons which appeared like large, scarlet bulls. They charged at the Arxians, kicking up mud and dirt as they went.

Paladins and witch-hunters immediately rushed to the front ranks, preparing to defend their comrades against the oncoming daemons. The paladins drew their diamond-bladed weapons, while the witch-hunters drew their blades of cold iron. Only a handful of paladins were armed with bows and arrows with diamond tips, and they prepared their shots for when the daemons got within range.

The trebuchet launched again, this time a little closer to the walls, but it still missed the wall, and crashed into some of the houses that had been under repair.

From the rooftop of one of the houses nearby Galia could hear refugees inside the house that had just been hit screaming and crying. She quickly climbed down and ran over to the ruined house. She pushed aside the rubble as best as she could in hopes of getting to the people inside in time.

The daemons collided with the paladins in their way. The bull-like daemons charged through them and threw them aside. The reptilian daemons pounced on them and brought them to the ground. Any paladin unfortunate enough to get pecked by the reptilian daemons' beaks turned to ash in seconds. The bird-like daemons that flew overhead mostly managed to maneuver around the arrows being fired at them and made it to the trebuchet, where they picked up the people operating the siege engine and dropped them from greater heights in the air. One of the bull-like daemons charged straight into the side of one of the trebuchet and smashed it to pieces.

Just as the trebuchet were smashed, however, and their operators dropped from high places, the other, shorter-ranged catapults, drew closer to Bogeid. The soldiers operating them prepared to launch boulders at the city walls. Thankfully, for the Nihilites, these catapults were within bow range.

Ardal didn't even need to give the order this time, the archers immediately rained arrows down on the soldiers operating the catapults. Some of the arrows they shot were on fire, in hopes that this would catch the wooden catapults ablaze as well.

The paladins and witch-hunters quickly recovered from the shock of the initial assault and resumed their fight against the daemons who attacked their ranks. Once the daemons were dealt with, the infantry began its march towards the city. As they marched Ardal could see that many of them were carrying ladders, ladders tall enough to scale the walls. As more and more of the enemy soldiers came into the moonlight, Ardal soon realized that if the enemy breached the walls there would be no way for the people in Bogeid to defend themselves, they would be overwhelmed.

The first line of Arxian forces carried tower shields on their approach, with swords in their free hands. Just behind them, and using their shields for cover, were crossbowmen, all with the crossbows ready to fire once they got within range of the archers on the walls. Soldiers armed with large battle-axes charged at the main gate, ready to hack it to pieces.

Just as the enemy forces drew close, however, the very ground in front of them shifted, the dirt moving aside as something rose up from under the ground. Ardal wasn't sure what he was looking at at first. They looked like six domes, each made of wood and covered in metal plates. Three of them had lines of crossbows leaning out the front, which opened fire on the approaching Arxians. The soldiers wielding axes fell almost instantly, but those with the tower shields managed to defend both themselves and the crossbowmen with them. The crossbowmen fired their bolts at the strange domes, but the bolts could not get past the iron plates. The three domes which did not have crossbows leaning out the front rolled forward, and as they rolled scythe-like blades protruded from near the bottom and spun around the domes. The soldiers with tower shields stepped back, terrified of the whirling blades approaching them. As the domes drew close they lowered their shields in an attempt to block the blades, but the blades proved to be so sharp and so hard that they cut right through and sliced through their legs.

The crossbowmen fled. They fired behind them, but fell as more bolts from the other three domes hit their backs and more arrows from the walls above rained on their heads. The six domes rolled forward in pursuit of the Arxian soldiers, but slowly. The domes were not pulled by horses, so Ardal could only guess at what might be powering them. Perhaps the people inside were operating it with their feet?

Two of the domes armed with the lines of crossbows drew near the catapults and fired a second volley. The bolts, with razor-sharp tips, whistled through the air and tore the soldiers at the catapults to pieces. The bolts ripped through their armor, tore their flesh, and streamed their blood over the field.

The soldiers marching towards Bogeid slowed at first when they saw the approaching domes with spinning blades. They could see their comrades' blood still soaking the blades, blades apparently made of a metal so strong that even the tower shields couldn't withstand them. The circular, undulating sound of the whirling blades, coupled with what they had seen just moments ago filled these soldiers with dread. They looked upon these four approaching domes, each only big enough to hold no more than four people, as one looks upon an executioner coming with a sharpened ax. It was certain death, and none of them felt they could stand up to it.

Sensing their comrades hesitation, which was soon to become terror and lead to their retreat, the paladins stepped in. One paladin swung his blade out low, hoping that the diamond would cut through whatever steel the scythes were made of. All he needed to do was disarm the thing, then it wouldn't be dangerous any more.

The brave paladin was jerked to one side, his arms nearly pulled out of joint, as the force of the spinning scythe ripped the sword from his hands and threw it through the air. As he stood in surprise at the loss of his sword, the next blade cleanly cut through his legs at the knees. The blade sliced them off and dropped him to the ground on his stubs of legs. The next blade cut him clean in half across the belly, then the next across the chest, and finally the first blade came back around and severed his head. In mere seconds the man was a bloody, heaping mess of pieces all over the grass, each piece cut clean, like a butcher slices meat.

Soldiers retched and vomited at the very sight of their comrade sliced to bits. Those who hadn't gotten sick began to run, many of them screaming as they did and throwing down their weapons. The dome with the line of crossbows opened fire on them again as they ran. They were cut down in lines, even as they retreated.

Only a small part of the Arxian force sent to take Bogeid had fallen, but the last few had fallen in such a horrible manner that all morale was lost. Even those few Arxian soldiers who would have otherwise been brave enough to stand and fight after that soon found that if they stayed they would be fighting alone, and so they too quit the field.

As his fellow Nihilites cheered Ardal stared in silence, not sure if he should cheer with them or just cry. He'd always imagined war to be horrible, and even the few battles and skirmishes he'd seen before this had been terrible, but there was something truly ghastly, atrocious about everything Val was doing. What had happened to the days when soldiers simply killed each other with swords, magic, and arrows? When did they start melting each other with purple fire, gassing each other, incinerating each other with sunlight, and slicing each other to pieces as if they were nothing but animals, or sheaves of wheat? Knights swore to fight honorably, swore oaths of chivalry, and soldiers were expected to at least have some degree of honor, but here there was no honor, only murder, butchery, slaughter.

He couldn't look at it any longer, and, in a daze, he staggered down the steps of the wall. Nihilite rebels patted him on the back, congratulated him, and themselves, on winning the battle, but he barely heard their words, barely felt their touch. He was now certain, more than ever, that this world was truly horrible, but now he knew that he was part of the reason it was so horrible. Maybe Saklas never meant for the world to be horrible at all. Maybe the Agalmites were right, Saklas created the world as a paradise, and it was only people who made it so horrific.

As Val returned to the city and started explaining to his excited comrades how the dome machines worked, something about people pedaling inside and spring-loaded repeating crossbows, Ardal found Galia. She knelt with the refugees she'd managed to save from the wrecked house. Their wounds had been healed, but they were still sore from the attack.

Ardal smiled at her. To him she was like a single, beautiful blossom in a field of thorns and rocks. He had no idea, really, how such a kind and loving heart had grown in a world so full of such cruelty and malice. “Good job,” he said. At the moment there was little else he could think to say.

“I couldn't save all of them,” Galia said. “One of those crushed in the debris...was only a child...”

Children were getting caught in their war now. Ardal truly felt there had to be another way to go about this fight with the Arxians, some way that would neither risk the lives of the innocent nor employ such gruesome atrocities as he'd seen so far, but he couldn't think of anything.

“I'm sorry,” was all Ardal could say.

Galia threw herself into Ardal's embrace. She hugged him tightly and sobbed on his shoulder. That was all it took for him to break down too, and he held her close as he let his tears flow.

“Toughen up!” Val said, shoving Ardal hard and nearly knocking both him and Galia over. “This is WAR! You think it's pretty?”

“No, but apparently you do,” said Ardal as he glared at Val.

Val grabbed Ardal by the coat and roughly pulled him closer. “Listen to me! You think I always loved this sort of thing? I had to LEARN to love it, to listen to every time my enemies screamed and know that each scream was the sound of victory for my people! I had to grow to love to slaughter my enemies! You know why? Because you go mad if you don't!”

“Sounds to me like you went plenty mad,” Ardal said, right before he lost his wind as Val's fist buried itself deep in Ardal's gut.

Galia grabbed a brick from the ground and smashed Val in the face with it. The force knocked him down. Val's followers all reached for their weapons, but Ardal stepped between them and Galia, spreading his arms wide.

“I can call on Kamwi if we really want to do this,” Ardal said.

Val's followers were pretty sure that they could beat Galia, Ardal, and Ardal's familiar at once, but none of them really wanted to test that theory. Val rose to his feet again and spat teeth from his mouth as blood dripped down from his lip.

“I want you both out of my city! You hear me? LEAVE!”