Zilliad rushed out of her third-floor room via the window. She was so startled by the screaming humans that she didn’t even stop to put on her armor or grab her sword. Zilliad unfolded her wings and began to command the winds around her. BANG! A large explosion sounded directly below Zilliad, creating a ripple within her web of wind and a hole in the side of Guth’s castle. Zilliad soared upwards, using the winds to accelerate her ascension. She rose to be above the castle and then to be above the granite walls created by Sab, the deity of the soil.

Once Zilliad was above the walls, she was able to see what was laying siege on Vatiguth. Under the light of the three moons, Zilliad could see hundreds of what appeared to be mammoth sized satyrs. The brown furred creatures stood on two hooved feet, some wielding swords and shields while others carried bows in their oversized, human-like hands. Two dull, curved horns sprouted out of the creatures’ foreheads above their blood red eyes.

Zilliad could feel an arrow, the length of a full-grown man, hurtling towards her. Zilliad forced her winds against the flow of the arrow, and the arrow halted in its flight only inches from Zilliad’s exposed breast. She let out a deep sigh as the arrow fell to the ground.

“So, the Makers have sent their legion of balrogs,” the familiar voice of Zilliad's father sounded from behind.

Some of the balrogs were not carrying weapons but instead, worked in teams of four and used their long, black claws to pull catapults that launched barrels filled with explosives. Some of these barrels were aimed at the wall, but most were aimed inside the city. There were five catapults that Zilliad could see, and the cumbersome balrogs weren't very quick to load them.

“The winds tell me that there are more coming from the north,” Zilliad replied, “many more.”

“We cannot allow them to breach the walls."

“Yes, father,” Zilliad replied as she followed Haboo to stand on the northern part of Vatiguth's Enclosure Walls.

Zilliad touched down, right next to Foal who was already working on eliminating the Maker's forces. Sab had his bulwark planted in front of him, concealing his entire body from the balrog legion. When an explosive barrel was sent to hit the walls that protected Vatiguth, Sab sent a horizontal stone pillar to meet it midair, crushing the barrel before it could reach its target.

Foal danced behind Sab’s bulwark shield by using the power of her silver bow. Foal can teleport to any arrow shot by her silver bow either instantaneously or up to several minutes after the arrow is shot. The deity of the hunt would ready an arrow in her golden bow while protected, quickly warp to one of her silver arrows outside of Sab's bulwark's cover, fire the golden bow, and shoot another silver arrow to instantaneously appear behind Sab once again. No other could utilize the power of both bows as Foal did with her four arms and Zilliad was awed by her marksmanship.

With every shot Foal made with her golden bow, she would first utter a command. The target that is struck by the golden bow’s arrow must obey whatever command Foal issued before firing the bow. She said things such as, “attack the balrog to your left,” “fire the catapult into your own forces,” and “end your own life.”

“Isaa and the others are staying behind to protect the humans!” Sab yelled out. “It is our job to keep the balrogs out of the city!”

Haboo suddenly rose to his feet and walked to stand over the edge of the Enclosure Walls, gripping his staff in his right hand. Arrows stopped dead in their tracks only inches from Haboo’s skin as Zilliad protected her father with her winds. Haboo looked over his shoulder towards his daughter with a grin.

“Allow me to show you the true power that courses through your veins.” Haboo said as he brandished his staff towards the balrogs.

Haboo then struck the butt of his staff into the granite wall, producing a high-pitched clink. The sound reverberated across the battlefield. Zilliad felt as if the world stopped spinning, if only for a moment. The sound from Haboo’s staff dampened all other noises, creating an ominous stillness in the air.

“HYAH!”

Zilliad’s senses exploded as she felt the force of something the size of the largest moon, Bekna, crashing down. Zilliad began to panic, believing that it was another planet-destroyer sized meteor summoned by Apena to devastate Vatiguth. The air was howling, and the wind was screaming so loudly, that Zilliad had to clasp both of her hands over her ears. Zilliad watched in horror as the hundreds of balrogs that rushed for Vatiguth’s walls were instantaneously flattened.

Haboo had forced all of the air above the balrogs, for several miles, to crash down to the surface. This put thousands of tons of air pressure into a focused point which immediately crushed anything underneath. Haboo released his control of the air and Zilliad immediately wrapped a wind barrier around herself and the deities as a gale of wind rushed to replace the air that was once above the balrogs. Like a star becoming a black hole, everything around the area Haboo just manipulated was pulled into itself. Trees, water, creatures, bushes, and even balrog carcasses.

Haboo began to laugh as he raised his arms, forming his body into a T-shape.

“Defending from high walls isn’t so hard after all!” The deity of the winds shouted, seemingly to nothing. “Now I see how you bested me in Isonia!”

Haboo was answered by the same familiar rumbling that woke Zilliad. More balrogs came into view as they marched to replace their deceased comrades. Zilliad could feel in her web of wind that Haboo had hardly made a dent in the Maker's legion.

“Keep them coming!” Haboo yelled out, a menacing grin spread across his face.

Without warning, Haboo smacked the butt of his staff into the top of the wall again. And again, the area in front of Vatiguth was annihilated. Several of the explosive barrels that were crushed ignited the dead balrogs, creating a fire. The fire inspired Zilliad’s vision and she could fully see the devastation her father wrought. The balrogs had become so disfigured that they only represented husks of bleeding, brown fur. Trees had been reduced to wood chips and most of the River Conbols’ water began receding east, back to its natural pattern, having been displaced from its riverbed.

“I can do this all night!”

This time, Haboo was not answered. Zilliad didn’t feel any tugging in her web of wind, signifying that the balrogs were not advancing. The balrogs stood just out of the light of the flames of their burning companions.

The sky to the north began to lighten, as if the first sun were rising. Except Zilliad knew that the suns rose in the east. A figure, that Zilliad couldn’t sense in her wind web, began to loom above the battlefield. The figure was made of pure white light and emitted soft, crackling rays. The figure's light illuminated the area north of Vatiguth and Zilliad could now see the full extent of the balrog legions. It was like a sea of horns and fur.

“So, this is what they were doing in Isonia…” Foal whispered under her breath, her eyes widened by fear.

This was the first time in Zilliad’s brief life that she ever felt true terror. It coursed through her body like a current of electricity that pulsated across all of her nerve cells. Zilliad’s entire being was telling her to flee. There is no way they are going to be able to best this foe, even with seven of the fourteen deities present.

The suspended figure of light inched its way to the front of the balrog legion. The being appeared to be a series of lightning bolts that weren't anchored to a cloud. The figure of white lightning licked its way over no man’s land until it was suspended several yards in front of Zilliad and the deities. Haboo strapped his staff onto his back before placing both of his hands on his hips.

“You come alone Atma? You insult me!”

“Tanpk is too precious to waste on the likes of you,” a voice sounded from inside of Zilliad's mind.

Sab rose to his feet and grabbed his bulwark with both hands while Foal strung both of her bows to her back. What are they doing? Zilliad thought to herself. Weren’t they about to go into battle with a Maker as powerful, if not stronger, than Apena? Zilliad began to propel herself into the air.

“We have to fight!” Zilliad shouted, looking back at the others.

Sab began to shake his head, “no, child. Atma cannot be touched.”

“WHAT!?”

“Sab speaks true,” Haboo said, grabbing Zilliad’s hand to ensure she didn’t fly off towards the Maker of Thought. “Physical attacks are of no use here.”

“What are we supposed to do!?”

“Only Sego and Tete have the ability to affect Atma…” Foal started to say.

A lightning tentacle abruptly whipped out of Atma's form and towards Foal, extending at an alarming speed. The lightning wrapped around Foal’s head and the deity of the hunt’s body began to radiate with a white glow. Foal turned to Zilliad and the others as she removed her golden bow from her back.

“Hetes did well forging the tools for this one,” Foal said in a sharp voice, readying an arrow, “surrender to…”

Zilliad’s hearing was obstructed by the rushing of air as Haboo exploded off the top of the wall, taking Sab and his daughter with him. Just as quickly as Zilliad was swept off of her feet, she forced her own airstream backwards at Foal, interfering with any arrows shot towards them. Haboo directed the winds to carry Zilliad, Sab, and himself to the southernmost building in Vatiguth, where Isaa, Sego, Cajo and Mahon were hiding with the humans.

Haboo slammed Sab and Zilliad to the ground while he landed gracefully on his feet. Zilliad struggled to stand while Cajo and Mahon rushed out of the wooden shed. Zilliad looked northwards to see Foal diving into Vatiguth with her wings tucked. Foal’s white lightning headband trailed behind her, keeping the deity of the hunt strung to Atma's electrical form.

“Only Atma has presented itself,” Haboo began, “we need Sego’s seals.”

“Right!” Cajo exclaimed, pivoting with Mahon to return to the shed, followed by the other deities.

The explosions resumed as the balrogs continued their siege, now unhindered and Foal landed directly in front of Zilliad.

“I’ll hold Foal off!” Zilliad shouted, but received no reply as she was all alone.

Foal slowly walked towards Zilliad and began unstrapping her second, silver bow. Weaponless and without armor, Zilliad stood between the deity of the hunt and one of the hastily made, human dwellings. Zilliad’s fear hadn’t dissipated one bit, and every fiber of her being was telling her to run. What kept Zilliad’s stance strong was knowing that she was protecting her people. Both of her people. Zilliad raised her fists and began collecting all of the irritated, statically charged air from above. Foal notched an arrow into both of her bows.

“Another half-breed,” the deity of the hunt commented, her voice higher pitched than normal. “The deities are shameless, having made a creature to purely serve their perverse desires. We Makers create life for a higher purpose."

Zilliad clenched her teeth. This world she was thrown into, Garsuna, is filled with so much hatred and selfishness. The Makers want the deities to find their nemesis, but the deities want to be free of their control. The deities want the humans to help free them from the Makers, but the humans want to live a life where they don’t suffer the constant fear of death. Someone has to put a stop to all of this.

“Maker, deity, human… why be so discriminative,” Zilliad inquired as she focused all of the lightning from above towards her body, “life is life regardless of what container it is in.”

Zilliad felt all of the hair on her body begin to stand up, as if she were suspended in water and her gray eyes shocked into a pure yellow as she was struck by a lightning bolt of her own design. Zilliad's entire body began to shimmer in an iridescent yellow, competing with the white glow of Foal's skin. Foal began to chuckle.

“You speak true, for a youngster. But as the creators of life, the Makers get to decide its course,” Foal positioned an arrow in her golden bow and positioned it towards Zilliad. “Betray Isaa."

As Foal uttered the command for her golden arrow, Zilliad bolted towards the deity of the hunt.