Battle of the Fire

General Toba and his battle against the Draeth.

Battle of the Fire

On the year 855 a great host of Draeth had invaded Elerath. Once again, the humans thought, but their armies were beaten back because the Draeth army was even bigger than it looked like and bigger than the scouts reported them: a part of the Draeth army had been hidden by magicians with such a strong spell even the greatest magicians on scouting missions couldn't see through it or break it, or even sense it. And so the armies of Elerath crashed with the Draeth, and the Draeth achieved victory on the first day of battle as their concealed troops charged the Elerathian flank. The army of Elerath under the command of General Toba was defeated, and the general himself was taken prisoner. When the night came, a group of 15 Elerath battlemages appeared from the shadows. With their magical powers and weapons they freed General Toba and escaped with him under the cover of darkness. The Draeth commander, General Teraga, was furious. He wanted to find the magicians and kill them, and in his rage he did not listen to warnings his mind was feeding him. The Draeth magicians began their work, and with a simple finding spell they found the Elerathian magicians. They were surprised that such simple magic had worked, and then immediately the information struck them. It had to be a trap. But Teraga did not listen to his magicians, stating that his army was bigger than any army the Elerathians had, and he was so confident on his power that his pride overcame his leadership qualities. And so he ordered the march to the Desert of xxxxxx, the site of a great sorrow.
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Notes

We arrived at the Desert of xxxxxx yesterday. We have hidden the army from the enemies's sight and spells, but they can smell us when they arrive. Yet, it will be enough. Our might in numbers and quality are great, and perhaps this army is the biggest army ever gathered in Elerath. All our armies have gathered here, and General Toba is leading us. He has to avenge his fallen comrades in arms and his own shame of being captured. We have put ourselves as a bait: they notice us, not the army, and they come to us. Then we will charge them and shatter them like a sledgehammer shatters a rat. If they don't smell us first; but we can change the wind so that it blows towards us so they cannot smell us. We have to do it when they close in, though, as they might get suspicious about our intentions.

The Battle

I eyed the field of battle with my keen eyes in the cover of our magic. I could already smell them; their foul smell makes me want to vomit, but I hold it back and breathe heavily like all of the men under my command. There is a large dune on my army's right flank. There are some of our strike forces hidden behind it; and so are behind the dune on our left, too. It is like a great gate where from a great ambush is unleash, like a final desperate charge from a besieged charge led by the most valiant knights; except that they are the ones in need of desperate actions and deeds. The plains ahead of us have only one large dune, the largest of them all: over five meters high and ten meters wide, so that over a hundred soldiers could stand on it. The Draeth advanced, setting patrols to every direction while moving. They were almost on the huge dune. Then, suddenly, we felt the wind on our backs. The wind had turned towards the Draeth, and they immediately smelled us. At the same time our spell broke, and our army was revealed. Our armies stood ten paces away from each other ,silently watching each other. Then all hell broke loose. I cried out a great warcry, and my men began charging towards the Draeth. Yet one more second passed, and a great figure stepped out from their ranks. A giant Draeth, clad in pitch black armour and helmet, his great claws emanating the sunlight. He let out an even mightier cry than mine, and then his whole army charged us. We didn't stop our charge, and soon our armies clashed like an explosion. I disengaged from the main battle with my unit of battlemages and veered left of their flank, hoping to find a weak spot. As I approached them, I grabbed hold of fire and earth. The trained battlemages of my unit did the same, and together we then concentrated on the ground under their biggest groups of infantry. Like the loud clangs of hammers, great holes opened in the earth and great fires burst out of them, incinerating heaps upon heaps of Draeth. One of my men then suddenly cried out a warning.

"HAMMERS INCOMING!"

We had no time to prepare. A loud and thunderous clap was all I heard before falling to the ground in pain. My eyes were blinded and my body was hurting from the heat, and I heard only pain and suffering around me: my unit's mages were blinded and burned by an explosion of some manner. We who were left stood up on our knees and hands, trying to gather any manner of energy we could. When my eyes finally cleared of the searing light, I saw a wall of monsters lunging towards our unit. Some mages in my unit managed to send weak magical attacks towards them, but with little to no effect - the shieldwall stood. Gathering my last powers, I stood up and concentrated on the element plane. I picked water and put out the flames engulfing my body. My mind recovered from most of the pain, and I grabbed hold of Light and Wind. I struggled to retain my concentration on the elements as new waves of pain sent spears of pain running through my body. I quickly created a Seal and placed it in my mind. I felt the weariness and dark spells leave my mind, and again it was whole. Finally I grabbed hold of Metal, and with a great warcry I unleashed four of the basic elements of life, Fire, Light, Wind and Metal in one great flurry of power. I saw a great explosion in front of me, but I was not thrown backwards. Instead, the company of Draeth were flung back like dolls. I grabbed hold of Light and created another Seal in my body. It cleansed it of the dark magic I was targeted with. But as I felt the relief in my body, I also felt something hot and heavy on my right hand. It was like a handle made out of fire, but the fire only tingled my fingers in a commanding way, as if it wished me to do something. I looked where previously had been a leather glove. I saw magnificent thing. It was a fiery sword, plain but deadly, contesting my attention with the enemy army. Then I understood: it must've been the gods, granting me victory of this day. I raised the sword high up on the sky, and it's light emanated over the whole battlefield. I cried the Elerathian warcry once more, and charged towards the Draeth magicians. It was like I had reborn from the ashes, returned from the shadows to the light; and I moved swiftly like the wind, and my body felt no pain. I was in a blood-crazed fervor. I knew they were weaker than me, and every blow I struck cut straight through shields and armour. At the midst of the battle, receiving as many wounds as I dealt them, I felt like the king of the world.

Then, as I turned my gaze towards an another magician, I was hit with a bolt of wind, which sent me flying several meters backwards. But already before I had even hit the ground, I grabbed hold of Fire and Earth and opened a hole underneath the three nearest Draeth magicians. Fire burst out of it and killed the three instantly. Yet then I saw my assailer. He gazed at me, full of cold hatred and disgust. I quickly tried to grab hold of Water, Earth, Wind and Water to create a shield, but before I could he had sent a barrage of shards to nail my head to the ground. Then and there, I already thought it was the end. But no. As the shards hit my body, they shattered to dust. The magician who was standing in front of me raised his eyebrows, drew his sword and began walking towards me quickly. He smiled at me knowingly when he approached, and as he reached me I noticed his body bend over me, so that his face met mine.

"Hello, Toba."

The air left my lungs, it escaped from there like rats from a sinking ship, and I was breathing heavily. I looked to the ground, and finally I caught my breath. I turned my face to meet his. I saw a very familiar face, but his eyes were flashing white and back to the normal dark-green I was so used to. But something else was disturbing me. I turned my gaze towards his hands that were clutching the sword. His fingers had very sharp ends, like they'd be very sharp nails. The Draeth smiled gloomily.

"You're not used to what you see? Ah.. I do remember your face, human. Perhaps you do remember me, perhaps not...I've..changed, but you are my enemy now, Toba."

I was breathing heavily. My eyes wandered around in their eye sockets, but finally I locked them into the magician

"Carus?"

"He's dead."

The draeth prepared to finish me off. I kept my eyes open. I would face death gloriously, not broken by cowardice. But then I saw sudden relief on the Draeth's face. His clutch on the sword loosened, and the sword dropped. He raised his arm towards his head, like he'd want to protect it from something, but before it reached his head his chest ruptured and blood bursted out. I opened my mouth.

A pair of friendly arms pulled me firmly up from under Carus's body. The emanating sword laid on the ground next to me, just behind Carus's body. A magician I could not recognize clad in full armour patted my back, he spoke:

"All good, sir?"

"Keep on killing them," I responded, shaking my head. Of course it wasn't Carus. And then I went back into the fray.

There I was, a figure of a deadly warrior running towards the Draeth like a hurricane. My enemies received deadly wounds as I stroke with my sword left and right, looking for Teraga and my revenge. The feeling of absolute power was bumping inside me. It made me much more stronger than I would have been without it: I felt like I could do anything. And I wanted to win this battle.

I was on in the thick of the battle, slashing left and right with the flaming sword so quickly that my outlines faded when I stroke. All the way I was fighting my way towards their left, the traditional honourary spot of the army reserved for the commander of the force. My unit of battlemages was still with me. I could sense that even though I could not see them, since every so often I saw dozens of Draeth fly backwards towards their army, or burn to the Hellfires, or get nailed by extremely sharp, long shards. Sometimes they burned, and the fire caught on anything it touched, leaving dozens of more Draeth screaming of pain. I killed two more Draeth with one sweep of my sword, but three more immediately stepped on their place. They tried to force me down with their shields, but I kicked the front man's feet and slashed the second one's skull open as he tried to strike me. Now I was on their backside, and yet another sweep of the flaming sword left them both incapacitated. I turned quickly, the battle calmed slightly around me and I had some time to look around. Instantly I noticed a group of Draeth on my right trying to fight against my battlemages. On my left I noticed my chainmail-armoured warriors fighting the Draeth, who were equipped with half-plate armour, spears, swords and shields. And then and there, as the day was turning to our favour and their forces began to break, I heard a very, very loud explosion and shout. I turned towards it and saw a very big man standing on a small stone cliff, defending it against at least a dozen of my men. They all charged him, but they flew twenty meters backwards in one loud explosion and died instantly. I grabbed hold of Earth and Fire, and like it was natural I opened a hole in the ground next to the tall Draeth, and fire bursted out. But as they were about to hit him, the fires died and the hole in the ground vanished. He turned his gaze on me, and instantly I felt great pain on my left shoulder. For a moment I thought someone had stabbed me, but then realized it was a long, thin and very sharp shard that had pierced my shoulder. I concentrated for a moment, and the shard turned to dust. Then I grabbed hold of Fire and wind and sent the dust towards him as a whirlwind of hot ash. I used the last bits of concentration I had left to grab hold of Fire and Light, sending an orb of fiery light towards him. But the hot ash turned dark and collapsed, and the strong magical attack I had sent towards him exploded between us. "Damn.", I thought, "Magic does not work against this thing..", and I began running towards him with my sword drawn. I locked eyes with him, and could sense that he had hold of the elements he needed. I quickly rolled to the left and heard something fly past me. I quickly grabbed hold of Water and Earth, and concentrated on the ground underneath him. He hadn't moved even slightly. But as I released the elements, something exploded just in front of me. I noticed the elements I had sent had exploded when he had sent something against it; and now I was already very close to him. I jumped towards him like a tiger, my sword ready to strike. But as my feet hit the ground, he drew his sword quicker than any eye could see and sent a quick blow towards me. Only barely I managed to block it with my sword. He moved quickly to my side and attacked twice. I dodged the first one and parried the second. I slashed at his torso, but he easily dodged and caught me off balance, I felt slight pain on my back. He had cut me with his sword, it wasn't deep but it was painful. As I got back up to my feet I turned my back to him, concentrating on Light and Fire, and quickly turned towards him and met his gaze. I saw sudden surprise in them when I released the elements.He put up his arms to protect his eyes, but he was too slow, the light blinded him and set him aflame but he had not burned to dust. Normally a regular mage would be killed by this amount of magical power directed towards him. Nevertheless, I stabbed the mage to his arm, using the opportunity cleverly to my advantage: but he did not shout of the pain or of the wounds I inflicted to him. Instead he pulled my sword deeper into his arm, and did not care that his wound burned. He turned his eyes to me, shouting wildly. And then I was in a world of pain. I heard an explosion so loud my eyes rang for several minutes and I became blinded and deafened for the same amount of time; I felt the fire burning my body and I heard loud screaming and cursing..and then it all faded.


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From The Memories of a Merchant a week after the battle:

That day my intention was to travel to the military camp near Contested Lands, so I could sell supplies to the soldiers for a good price. Salt, fish, pork, wine - I had those all with me, and lots of other supplies like arrows or bolts. I had to travel through the desert of xxxxxx. It was still unknown what had happened to our army there, or to their army: our magicians found no signs of life in the desert. Perhaps it was safe to travel there, perhaps not. But I did not care. Another reason to travel by the Desert of xxxxxx - you would gain knowledge of what happened in the field of battle. Strangely enough there was no foul smell of rotting corpses or the sorts in the area when I arrived. Seemed like the armies had vanished along with their commanders! Then I saw something very bright in the horizon. I rode towards it with my men and the caravan. As we reached the location of the bright object, we noticed it was the ground. It was translucent. We could see our own mirrored figures on the glass. But when I looked past my mirror-figure, I gasped. There was a man's face there. His expression was terrified and he seemed to have pains. His hands were on his sides, and one of them was loosely holding a fiery sword. I turned to the rest of the men and pointed the location to them.

"So here died General Toba, one of the greatest magicians of our time... rest in peace."

One of my men had stepped forward and he spoke these words. He was Amarc, a regular soldier from the Army who had volunteered to protect this caravan. I turned towards him, and asked how he'd knew it was Toba.

"I served in his army during the war when the Draeth were not in control of the Contested Lands. But now both of our nations have suffered great losses in this battle. I suspect all the soldiers of both the armies lie here, under this glass."

I was a mere merchant, and I was almost gasping when I heard someone talk so casually about this sort of a thing. I made a decision.

"Well, Amarc, I want you to go back to Ellethar and report this to the king. Tell him to send a force to investigate. But we have no time to wait here - let's continue the journey."

We mounted our horses and limbered the wagons on the pairs of horses we had brought, and  continued our journey. Later I sold the supplies to the supply officer for a great profit, and we decided to go back home by the same way we had came - through the desert. I saw Amarc there with an investigation unit, and they recognized General Toba and his sword. I asked why they didn't use the sword, but they didn't answer. They just told me that I wouldn't understand it. I asked them again with a more commanding voice, irritated at their lack of trust, and they finally answered:

"The King received a sign by a dream. A prophecy. It told that only one man could take the sword. Only that man could use the sword, and use it to cleanse the lands of the Draeth, be cursed those unholy creatures.

I was dumbfounded by these words, but I didn't show it. I thanked the man and mounted on my horse again. As I left the desert, I saw more and more people riding towards it.  Some were soldiers, but most of them were regular townspeople. I still don't know what to think of it. But I think I will keep waiting.

Author's Note

I wrote this a long time ago. It is very possible, that this story is accompanied by a large retinue of grammar errors, punctuation mistakes and other nice things. I will leave it in your hands whether to ignore them or notify about them.

Reviews

[Nienor Niniel]

The description of the battle is clear and flows smoothly, and the prologue and epilogue tie up the story like a nice little bow. I like the system in this world of performing magic: take this element and that element and create this effect.

The tone of the prologue creates a feeling of distance, as if it was originally written by a historian some time after this battle occurred. Then the tone shifts in the next section of the story to the viewpoint of General Toba, more personal and right there in the action. And the last part sounds as if it's from the Merchant's journal or an interview with the man. So overall, this story is like a compendium of the ancient past, drawn from sources that had survived time. (:

Throughout the story "bursted" is used instead of "burst". And the paragraph that begins "I was on in the thick of the battle, slashing left and right with the flaming sword so quickly that my outlines faded when I stroke." is very big and probably should be broken up into smaller pieces. (And, like in the above sentence, "stroke" is utilized incorrectly, as a past tense of "strike", I think?)

[Mikael Malmberg]

Hey!

I'm a little surprised to see that you're somewhat interested in the 'backstory', the lore, of this world. Originally, this fantasy landscape was created as a community project in a RP forum. This is just one of the back stories I and the others have written - I have a whole folder of the stuff with me.

We could even begin writing it out.

[Erinne S.]

This isn't usually my style of reading, but I thought you did very well with it. Your descriptions were very vivid, easy for my imagination to picture. You told your story well :)

~Erinne

[Mikael Malmberg]

Hey!

Thank you for your review. If you enjoyed reading through this piece, then I think you will also enjoy my other stories; I cannot offer as detailed backgrounds(as this story derives from a world created as a community project), but what I can offer is more characters, an improved writing style to this short-story and a whole new level of novel plot.

Enough of shameless advertising, though. Sorry about that, comes almost instinctively nowadays. :)

Anyhow, thanks again for your review, and I shall also take a look at some of your stories.