Chapter 501: Mist & Blood (Patreon)

From her palanquin, Queen Ophelia Thorn watched chaos unfold in the backlines of her army. A few hundred drow soldiers hurried to form a line behind the trebuchets and engineers as frost-mist crept over the hills and swept them up in its thick fog.

Agonizing and terrified screams could be heard from inside the mist but they were quickly silenced one by one. All around, Undergrowth commanders were ordering thousands of soldiers towards the mist.

A sick feeling turned Ophelia’s stomach. There was something terribly wrong about that mist. She stepped out of her palanquin and gripped one of her generals by the scruff of his neck, “Why are they all rushing into the fog!?”

“A b-battalion was caught in the mist,” the general stammered.

“So you’d send several more battalions!? Are you mad!? We don’t know who is even in there!”

“We must support our men and protect the trebuchets.”

“By going into the mist? Imbecile!”

The general bowed, “With all due respect, my queen, no matter what reinforcements have come to Hollow Shade’s aid, no matter what spells they’ve conjured to create such thick fog, our forces are the most elite in all the Realm.”

“Pull our men back. Prepare the archers to fire immediately!” Ophelia snapped.

“But the first battalion is still in there, they’ll—”

“Oh, for the love of—” Ophelia shoved him aside and turned to the other commanders. “Order the battalions to pull back and have the archer battalion fire upon the enemy, or I will slit your necks! NOW!!!”

The commanders bowed and hurried to spread the word. Horns blared in the wind as the thousands of drows slowed to a halt and with confused expressions, began to retreat, leaving their fellow drows caught in the mist to fend for themselves. All the while the mist continued to creep around grasslands, slowly encroaching them from the sides.

A battalion of archers lined up, drew their bows, and prepared to fire. A massive white wolf emerged from the mist, far to the west of the initial drow engagement. As the archers let loose their arrows the wolf howled a glacial storm into existence. The twister of ice sent the volley of arrows awry.

Without hesitation, the wolf charged forward. A pack of frost wolves followed, leaving a trail of icy fog behind them. The archers barely had time to turn around when the frost wolves flanked them. The frost-mist went up like a sea wave splashing into the rocks as the wolves crashed into the archers, trampling over them.

“It’s a trap, we’re being flanked!” screamed a commander, while the other commanders rushed to direct the battalions towards the newfound enemy.

But as the frost wolves clashed against them, the drows witnessed the true extent of the hidden force. Hundreds of Sylvan wolves the size of horses, leaped out of the mist and ran past their larger cousins. Small cloaked figures rode atop the wild beasts, wielding spears and bows. Trampling over the fleeing archers, they charged the other battalions without breaking their stride.

The drow soldiers stumbled back on each other and tried to avoid being trampled by the wolves.

“Retreat! Retreat!” shouted one of the drow commanders. But there was nowhere to go, save back into the frost-mist. 

Ophelia watched in disbelief as her army was actually being pushed back, corralled into the enemy’s trap. “NO!” she screamed. “Don’t go into the fog! Stand your ground! We can’t defeat them in the fog!”

But her voice fell on deaf ears. As their flank was crushed underneath the wolf riders, the other nearby soldiers broke into a full run, causing a ripple effect across the entire tightly packed army.

The pack of frost wolves made short work of the archers, their enormous size making it simple to crush the screaming soldiers under their paws. Led by the white wolf, they turned and made a beeline straight towards the royal palanquin.

Ophelia narrowed her eyes at the realization that they were coming for her. “You want to kill me?” she muttered and channeled Blue. “Come! Face me!” Lightning crackled over her arms and she fired thundering bolts at the alpha.

The lightning skidded off the wolf’s white fur like splashes of water. Watching the queen’s spells’ ineffectiveness, her royal guards broke formation and ran away.

Ophelia spun around indignantly, “Get back here, you cowards!” She cursed under her breath and prepared to fly away, but she recalled the twister of ice and what had happened to the arrows.

Before she could make up her mind, the frost-wolves crashed into the palanquin and pushed forward, chasing after each of the fleeing royal guards. Only the alpha, the largest of the wolves, slowed to a halt in front of the queen.

Ophelia glared at the beast and channeled Green. Gigantic vines emerged from the ground and curled around the wolf’s legs, but the vines froze as they drew near and crumpled into chunks.

The alpha stared down at the queen. Ophelia stiffened, it was as if the beast’s deep silver eyes were penetrating right through her, stripping her down to her bare soul. She recognized that gaze, those eyes, she had seen the same eyes in one other being, her master.

This wasn’t a beast. This wasn’t a frost-wolf. This was a god. The goddess of the moon.

Ophelia felt her legs grow weak. She stumbled backwards and fell on her bottom. The air itself grew freezing and she could see her own breath as her lungs burned with the cold.

 “W-Why…? Why are you here, Ancient One?” Ophelia shivered. She looked up at the goddess slowly, careful to not cause any more disrespect. “I am the servant of another member of the pantheon. Spare me and I assure my master will—”

Then Ophelia saw it. A figure sitting atop Lunae’s head, like a little bird. A warrior of blue skin, covered in silver war paint and wrapped in an all-too-familiar cloak of white flowers.

Ophelia frowned in bewilderment, “You…!?”

Stryg stared down at her apathetically. He bared his fangs, “Death.”

Lunae lunged forward and clamped her jaws over Ophelia’s upper body, snapping her spine in a splatter of blood. Ophelia’s legs spasmed for a moment, and then Lunae swallowed her in two bites.

~~~

…Hollow Shade… South-West Wall…

Melfyn held Sandra’s hand as the enemy slowly closed in on both sides. His tribemates held their shield wall on both sides, pushing the valley warriors back with spear and shield tactics as best they could, but even Rowan, their deadliest warrior, was tiring.

Rowan glanced back at Melyfn and the drow and goblin shared a mutual look of grim acceptance.

“M-Mel…” Sandra mumbled, her voice faint.

“I’m here,” he smiled weakly.

Whatever magic Sandra conjured had left her as frail as a sickly newborn. She could hardly keep her eyes open, let alone move.

Surprised shouts began to abruptly spread through the valley warriors and they began to slowly back away.

“What are they doing?” muttered Captain Rorick between grimaces as one of the goblins patched his leg’s bloody stump.

“They’re trying to get past the wall,” said the vampiress, Captain Talia. “They don’t even care to finish us off…”

“Why?” Melfyn furrowed his brow.

They could have tried to cross over the wall this entire time, but they had wanted to first eliminate all resistance. After all the bodies strewn across the wall, why give up now?

“Hey, guys, what is that!?” Jack pointed to the outskirts of the city.

The group turned and looked at the grasslands and a spark of confusion and hope burned to life within them. 

Though it was dark, the goblins, drows, and the vampiress could see the frost-mist had spread and enclosed around the grasslands. A cavalry of wolves was wreaking havoc across the enemy lines, pushing the Undergrowth battalions into the mist.

“Guys…? What is that?” asked Jack again. He was the only human among them, and his night vision was terrible compared to the Ebon species.

“Reinforcements, I think?” guessed Rowan.

“From Murkton?” Rorick said hopefully. The orcs of Murkton were said to be fierce warriors. Perhaps, Murkton’s Royal House, the Morrigans had come to the aid of their cousins, House Katag?

Talia shook her head. “No, those wolves are enormous, they must be from the Rupture Mountains. They have to be soldiers from Frost Rim. Right?”

“No,” Melfyn muttered quietly. He slowly stood to his feet and leaned over the wall’s merlons. It was far away and faint, but he could make out the blue banners carried by the wolf riders. “It’s Lunis,” he whispered with a trace of hope. 

Tears welled up in Melfyn’s eyes. “They came, they really came.”

Gasps of anticipation spread through the Cinder Brood at his words. Rorick and Talia shared a glance of doubt.

“Lunis…?” Sandra mumbled.

Melfyn knelt next to her and grabbed her hand. He smiled tearfully and nodded. “Yes, it’s the Lunisian army. They’re really here,” he whispered.

“Our people haven’t forgotten us,” Jack said in agreement, though he still couldn’t see anything in the darkness.

“You’re human,” said Talia, confused.

“And? I am Cinder Brood. I am Lunisian,” said Jack sternly, clearly offended.

“Mel, the banner!” Rowan spoke up.

“Oh!” Melfyn wiped the tears from his face and smiled.

“Melfyn, what are you doing? You’re not a nobleman,” Rorick reminded him. “You know you’re not allowed to display a banner—”

Melfyn ignored him and grabbed the banner lying on the ground. With Rowan’s help, the two of them lifted the Cinder Brood banner etched with the image of the Sapphire City, and held it aloft proudly.

~~~

Stryg gripped strands of Lunae’s thick white fur with his left hand as she led the charge through the undergrowth soldiers. It took almost all his strength to not fall off amidst her rapid stride. He stood atop her head, legs bent, leaning forward against the rushing wind threatening to push him back. With his free hand, he channeled Orange and tossed lobs of fire at the drows.

As soon as they broke free from the Undergrowth soldiers, they raced through the grasslands, heading straight for Hollow Shade.

“Stryg,” Lunae called out as she ran. “The enemy has breached the city.”

“How many?” he shouted over the wind.

“Several battalions. The Northern Gate has already fallen. The Western and Southern Gates are barely holding on. We need to spread our forces if we hope to stop them.”

“Understood!” Stryg drew Krikolm from his side, careful to not knick Blossom’s petals, and waved the sword in a sharp signal.

The frost wolves carrying the two Elects noticed and ran up beside Lunae.

“War Master!?” called out the Warrior Elect, Lykos.

“Take your riders and head to the Western Gate! Shaman Elect, head to the Northern Gate!” yelled Stryg.

“Aye, War Master!” shouted Lykos.

“It shall be done, War Master,” Lumi bowed her head and sprinted away on her frost wolf.

Aurelia called out to Stryg and spoke in a resolute tone, “I’m staying with you.”

Knowing she wouldn’t listen to him even if he said no, Stryg simply nodded.

Tauri rode up beside them. Plum sat in front of her, face pale with panic. 

“We’re with you to the end!” nodded Tauri confidently.

“Y-Yeah!” Plum smiled forcefully, trying her best not to throw up.

Stryg smiled at his friends, then glanced at his back. Elayne followed close behind on her wolf, as did the rest of his honor guard. He felt grateful to have them all by his side as he looked upon the thousands of valley warriors lining the shade wall.

Though fear touched his heart, it did not grip him. Courage and anger on behalf of his friends in the city burned in his chest.

Stryg raised Krikolm high, the scarlet blade aglow with blood, and pointed it to the Southern Gate. “With me!”

Lunae roared in agreement and spurred onward. The wolves howled and ran behind.


(AUTHOR'S NOTE:)

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