Upon a Star: Karyana's Journey: Chapter 30

War wages on as the allied forces struggle, forcing them to use the enemy's army against itself.

Chapter 30

The siege was on its 5th day, and clean water had run out. Food was less of a worry, but the lack of water made cleaning wounds difficult. The clerics were on wits end, as they had to constantly change their ranks, switching the tired minds that were holding the barrier aloft for fresher troops. The worn-out would take what little rest they could, but those who were wounded or mentally fatigued ended up helping those who were in worst conditions… or preparing bonfires to release the dead from a possibly worst fate.

Allision tried to spend as much time as she could healing and helping, but she also had to spend time with Meilin, as the constant stress of creating phantasmal forces to strike the cadaverous army had caused her to go into early labor. Yet, even after the illusionist began feeling the baby push, she kept trying, with great effort, to keep her ethereal soldiers from dissipating.

The high priestess was also worried about the extent of the damage to the walls and troops. The enemy’s pyrrhic tactics were causing massive loss on both sides, but their immense numbers were making it much harder for the defenses to hold. Even now, as she used what remained of her own water-skin to prepare warm water to clean to coming child, she had to move the bowl away from the cracks in the ceiling, as wood grain and dirt would have fallen in the bassin, ruining it.

Though the enemy lines had dwindled, thanks to Baratius’ tribesmen and shamans, the remaining number was more than enough to make the soldiers’ morale plummet. Half of the skeletal forces had been eradicated �" most of it due to the explosive spheres they were strapped with, rather than the Shrine’s archers and slingers -, and a third of the Dun-Elves remained. Still, the demonic forces had barely suffered any casualties, as their infernal inheritance made them almost immune to the very explosives used by Karlak’s army.

Korgan couldn’t leave the Shrine to battle, but he knew that he had to do something and quick. “The scouts accounted for more than five thousand this morning.” He explained as he looked at Alban, Yu Shaia and Baratus. “Still, the demonic forces have been kept mostly at the rear of the enemy lines. If we can’t get passed them, we won’t be able to reach the generals…”

Yu tugged at the silver braid behind his head. “We already lost hundreds of troops, and Bolestra has little to no supplies left. If they unleash the demons, we won’t have much of a chance to stop them.”

Alban folded his arms. “And there’s Arius’ failed strike. Not only were his soldiers killed, but he barely survived the march back here.” The ranger added. “It’s a good thing he did, though; I’m not sure how he did it, but he was able to steal one of those blasted contraptions from the enemy.”

“Ho! I finally figured it out!” Turalyon rushed in, holding a handful of old paper pages in his left hand.

Korgan looked at the battlemage. “I do hope you have good news for us. These times are dire enough…”

“Oh, I have more than good news. I have excellent news!” he proudly answered before placing the pages on the table that served as a map-holder. “Take a look at these!”

The giddy researcher handed each of them a page, which was filled with notes, pictures and charts. “What’s all this rubbish about?” Alban wondered, not too keen on alchemy and warfare technology.

“Rubbish?” Turalyon fumed. “You sir, are looking at the very construction used to create those confounded contraptions!”

“And how would those work?” the high priest asked.

“Oh, it’s quite simple. Ingeniously so.” The battlemage replied before explaining. “You see, the spheres work with a very delicate mechanism. I remember them used before in the battle of Dyurth Pass, when Karlak �" who was running low on troops �" forced the mountain goblins to wear these, and-”

Yu Shaia let out a sigh. “While we’re alive, please?” he groaned, not liking how Turalyon would get historical and hysterical over such an abomination.

The battlemage excused himself. “As I was about to say, these contraptions are explosives triggered by a cut in mana-flow.” He continued with his explanations. “If the wearer has no mana, like those skeletons, a mana battery is strapped instead, and once the battery is damaged, empty or removed, the explosives detonate.”

“That means they are turning their own troops into walking incendiaries.” The elven ranger answered. “I honestly wish there was a way to make them all detonate at once.”

“And that, my friend, is the excellent news!” Turalyon beamed with pride. “All it would take is a concentrated burst to cut the flow of energy of the entire enemy line, and all of the skeletons would pop like goblins between the fingers of a giant!”

A moment of silence filled the room before Korgan spoke. “You expect us to sound a retreat, then cast this… incantation you propose? What gives you the impression that the enemy won’t simply strike us down before their masses explode?”

“All we need to do is force the enemy into a single point on the battlefield, set up proper defenses and trigger the spell.” The battlemage kept explaining, ignoring Korgan’s questions. “We may lose some men, but if we can get enough of them together, all we’ll have to worry about will be the generals!”

“And the demonic forces.” Alban added, bringing a hand to the pommel of his sword. “My blade can strike down a few demons, but I can’t really do it alone. The rest of our forces lack the weapons to even harm those beasts.”

“Hence why we should use magic!” the mage added. “If we can ask the Planars to aid us once more, we could probably cast this…”

Turalyon pulled out an old parchment from his belt and unscrolled it on the table. “This here is a powerful spell that was created by Magelord Arcu, the grand-father of the well-renown Magelord Medai. Though I could only translate a few words, it seems this spell could ‘rain the heavens onto the unholy.’”

Yu Shaia looked concerned. “You’re telling us… that you expect this spell to be cast, but you can’t read it?”

“I’m not saying I can’t read it. I simply said I only translated a few words so far.” The battlemage corrected himself. “And as you can see from the dividing line on the scroll, it seems like document holds not one, but two spells. That means I’ll need someone else to help me cast this, once the language is fully deciphered.”

“And how long would that take?” the ranger asked, hoping it wouldn’t take longer than they could stand.

“I should have a proper translation within two or three hours.” Turalyon concluded. “In the meantime, perhaps someone should look for Karyana. I haven’t seen her all day…”

------

Onyx looked on as Karyana nervously practiced swinging Eclipse, trying to remember each step and swing of the practice stance that Kaina had learned before. Though it was called the ‘Dance of Steel’, she couldn’t stop herself from making a mistake, as her mind was far from concentrating on the task.

“That’s not it…” she told herself, letting out a sigh. “Right foot first, then low swing on the reverse, raise then… urgh.” Her frustration was apparent when her sword almost knocked down the steel-forged chandelier that dangled overhead. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You want a straight answer?” the dwarf retorted as he sharpened a soldier’s longsword. “You can’t focus. I’m no seer, but I can definitely tell that our little encounter with Raemu’s Ascendant got you rattled.”

He was right. “It’s that obvious?” she huffed, wiping a line of sweat off her brow.

“How do you think I’d feel if I saw a glimpse of the Motherforge, then all of a sudden the doors slam in my face, just because the Master Smiths don’t like my face?” Onyx spat, literally flinging a ball of phlegm into the wood fire that kept the Shrine’s crude forge lit. “Honestly, woman, this is war, so you should get your head back in it. You can’t do much good if all you think about is how one Planar doesn’t like you ‘cause of something you didn’t even do…”

Karyana sheathed her sword and let out a sigh. “I’m not even sure why this war even started.” She commented, finding the whole situation unsettling. “What did we do to deserve any of this?”

“Well…” the smithy answered, putting the sharpened sword on a table before picking up another sword to sharpen, “…war is war. Some do it for money. Some do it for power. Some doing for faith. Not sure if there’s another reason, but that’s what I know. Take Bejem for instance: that city was built on gemstones and you couldn’t take a step without tripping on something precious, but the Bejemi, they don’t see it like that. You couldn’t count how many clans and armies you could buy with just one of their houses, but they don’t see the gems like something of monetary value. So, every other day, there’s someone who comes and tries to claim their treasures, and all they end up doing is defending themselves.”

The black-haired young woman looked back at Onyx. “What does a city made of gems have to do with our conflict?”

The dwarf returned to sharpening the sword, as the millstone whizzed at each movement. “Simple enough answer. If what Allision told me, you sent Pison packing, and he wants revenge. Either that, or the Planar-Demon doesn’t want this Shrine to even be up. Whatever the case, we’re all stuck in this place, so we might as well fight for our lives, or maybe just for those of the folk of Bolestra.”

Karyana looked away from the forge. “But… but I don’t want to fight…”

Onyx stopped the millstone and walked over to her. “Well, can’t say I want to take part myself, but I only see two ways out: either we beat them, or we end up feeding the crows. In any case, I prefer to work my ugly part in this mess. You probably should, too. Sure, a pretty face like yourself might not look right leading the charge, but if you really did beat that grim-faced mercenary, I don’t see why you can’t do the same again.”

The young woman unclenched her fist and walked towards the door. “Now where do you think you’re going?” the smithy asked.

“I need to speak to Luriah…” was all she said before leaving the room.

-----

Arius was bed-ridden, as his scars and wounds made him too weak to even get up. The only thing he could do now was think.

He had played his role sufficiently well, and had caused enough damage to slow the firing of catapults, and even brought the whole plan to a crawl after he expertly snitched a broken pyro-sphere from the battered body of a killed Dun-Elf. He also considered himself lucky that he was able to deal some damage to Pison himself before his spell-sword shattered. That would also give him a proper status at the end of the battle. Perhaps an unsung hero who, after seeing his men fall before him, gave the Shrine enough time to retaliate.

Still, he knew that even a phyrric victory would be better than a probable slaughter, and by the strength of the three generals and their demonic forces, it was a surprise that Pison didn’t simply unleash the largest and most brutal forces at the beginning. Sure, there was some amount of psychological warfare, but a thousand demons was more than enough to obliterate the Shrine.

Slowly shaking his head, as his body didn’t allow for more movement, he simply rested in the heavy sheets, feeling the wraps and ointments on his wounded body. Though he couldn’t hear what was going on in the war room, he had felt the presence of something cold and sinister hiding in his shadow. All he could do now was wait for the shadow servant to fulfill its orders and disappear before his own plan would come to fruition.

The wounded elf could feel Karyana’s presence, even as her manaweave followed her like strings attached to a puppet. Her mana was so vibrant, so rich… but also, raw and crude. All it needed was a bit of polish, and everything would be in place.

Turning his head towards a potted rose he had gathered in the snow, he knew that Pison would keep an eye on him… and already knew what would be asked of him next.

--------

An hour had passed since the meeting, and the first plan of the plan had begun.

Yu Shaia had advanced what remained of his scouts to orchestrate guerilla tactics in the woods that served as a natural barrier between the enemy camp and the Shrine’s sole road. The objective was simple: deal as much damage as possible before retreating, thus leading the enemy into Baratius’ forces. That would diminish the number of reserves Pison and his generals would have, and make Turalyon’s plan work.

However, the woods were far too quiet. Even with an army broken down to half its size, the camp would still be active. Demons did require an immense amount of mana to summon, and some also required sacrifice to maintain in the mortal realm.

The ranger raised a clenched fist, ordering his troops to halt and scatter. The only sounds in the winter-silent woods were those of his men drawing bows and knocking arrows. The rest was deathly silent.

Yu looked about, trying to stretch his field of vision as far as he could, but he couldn’t see a thing. No signs of rot or broken steps from shambling skeletons, and no footsteps or traces of mana from the Dun-Elves.

Before he could order his troops to advance, the sound of rushing footsteps was heard. The head of the scouting party turned about face, spotting a hurried Ukrid.

“This is an emergency!” the speedy ranger half-shouted, trying as hard as he could to catch his breath. “The enemy… they knew… Baratius… he’s under… attack!”

The ranger rose from his knelt position before looking skywards, noticing one of Meilin’s phantasmal eagles. “This was all a trap…” he concluded, gritting his teeth. “They are marching from the north-east!”

-----

Baratius couldn’t stop to think, and breathing became as quick as each strike of his war-sword.

He didn’t know what had happened to the scout party, but the fact that his clansmen were being outnumbered by the marching dead and semi-mindless Dun-elves was a tell-tale sign that the plan that he had been told by Alban had not gone as well as he expected.

Though some of the men were powerful warriors, the Strongmaul clan was small, and even Throd wouldn’t be enough to muscle through thousands of cadavers. A hundred, perhaps, as the giant was swinging his war-staff about like a madman, with Ior guarding his back.

Still, the battle had already taken its toll. Several of the tribesmen had died, including Mirri and Urdo. It wasn’t much of a surprised for the latter to die as he had not trained properly, but Mirri was the daughter of the chieftain, and this only fueled the barbarians’ rage.

Even with rekindled fury, his numbers were far too small for a proper defensive circle as the enemy surrounded them in a tight pincer. For every skeleton struck down, there was at least a Dun-Elf and two more skeletons left. Losing ground was one worry, but the possibility of their own being raised as undead was probably the most frightful issue. To the barbarian, death in battle was glory enough, but not when it meant being used as a shambling corpse against his comrades.

Tightening the circle to protect their own, Baratus looked at his kinsmen. “This may be our last battle. Let’s take as many as we can with us!” he ordered.

However, before the rest of his troops began their final push, the ground beneath the nearest wave of skeletons erupted in a wide surge of lava, raining the molten earth onto the enemy forces, before a volley of arrows began striking down the remaining Dun-Elves.

Baratus looked around, and was relieved to see Yu Shaia’s forces rush in. “I never knew there was a shaman in your troops…” he said with a great amount of relief, but I am glad you are here, friend.”

Yu Shaia scratched his hair behind his ear. “There… we don’t have any shamans.”

The barbarian looked puzzled. “Then who did-”

“That would be me.” came another voice as a series of steps was heard through the thick snow.

The elvish ranger examined the newcomer. Though he couldn’t recognize the man’s clothes, the half-mask he wore was a giveaway. “You must be Demyan… did Korgan send you to aid us?”

The young man looked uneasy. “Actually, I came on my own. I heard that the battle was not going as well as expected, so I decided to volunteer…”

The march of a group of heavily-armored soldiers was heard as the fog of war faded. Neither the barbarian or the elf knew of the colors these warriors �" spearmen, infantry, archers and even a handful of knights �" wore, but the ten scores of them was a sight for sore eyes. “…as well as propose the help from my city’s best.”

The ranger walked over to one of the horsemen and inspected the beast. “A fine, strong horse.” He said, examining the ride’s flank. “I’m guessing that your city dwells somewhere in a valley or some stretch of plains.” Looking up at the rider, a tall man in half-plate mail, he gave a quick wave. “Would you mind if one of us rides back to the Shrine? The news are… urgent.”

-------

Turalyon sat back down, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. “Finally, I’ve finished….” He spoke in content victory.

Korgan had been watching him for the last hour, and he had been getting more and more worried that the translation would never be possible. “Well, that’s at least one good news today.” The high-priest groaned. “Whoever the mole was, it looks like our plan was somehow leaked.”

“It may not be the best possibility, but that mole did us a favor.” The spellblade commented. “The north-eastern tower may be the less-defended, but it will allow us to set up a trap for them.”

“That’s not very reassuring.” The angry cleric shot out. “This could be the worst possible situation! If your plan fails, the collapse of that tower will let them tear us all apart!”

“Then it’s a good thing I came.” Demyan shot out as he walked into the strategy room, followed by Yu Shaia and Baratus.

“Hmm… so the ambassador has decided to leap into the fray…” Korgan commented before frowning. “I hope you brought troops.”

“A score of knights, fifty archers, seventy-or-so spear-men and forty battle medics.” The elvish ranger spoke. “The Strongmaul clan may have suffered many casualties, but just those healers will be plenty enough to turn the tides.”

The high-priest of Raemu was impressed at the number of troops brought to battle in such a short amount of time, but was still wondering if it would be sufficient. “And how, pray tell, did you-”

“Now is not the time to ask questions!” Baratus roared as he slammed his fists on the table. “My kin has suffered greatly in this conflict! I order you to end this war, or we will be bled dry!”

Turalyon looked at the others. “It may come soon.” He spoke. “I just finished translating the spell!”

The masked young man walked over to the lanky man. “Let me see that.” Grabbing the scroll, he read it quietly. “Hmm… I see. So you wish to invoke the elements to battle?”

Looking at the translation, the battle-mage was surprised. “That’s not… what I translated.” He said before holding out the other parchment. “The spell was supposed to rain the heavens-”

Before Turalyon could finish, Demyan grabbed the second scroll. “Hmm… That makes more sense.” He commented. “Firing one of those spells alone would probably suffice in taking out the lesser troops, but the demonic forces would be much more difficult.”

Korgan looked at the masked ambassador. “How were you able to read this? Even my best monks could barely decipher it.”

Not willing to tell them that he had been taught by Scyens, Demyan put the parchments down. “Just to cast the first spell will require an immense amount of mana. The second one would be impossible to cast without divine aid.”

“Then I suppose we will have to rethink the casting order.” The high-priest commented before reading the translation. “…and it looks like we would require a priest and a mana-weaver to cast each.”

“Perhaps I can help.” Allision commented as she walked out of one of the many rooms that housed wounded soldiers.

Yu Shaia looked at the young priestess. “How are they?” he asked, feeling uneasy about the possibility of losing more troops.

“The medics are doing all they can with the resources they brought, but there are too many wounded.” She answered. “I heard that you needed another cleric to cast… perhaps I can assist you.”

Turalyon took a moment to think it through. “Alright. Let’s split the task, then.” He told them before pulling out a map of the Shrine. “If we spread our forces to dupe the enemy into thinking that we are planning a final stand, they may be more likely to send our their war-beasts… uh… war-demons… their shock troops. If so, we can use the tower as a synchronization point.”

Baratus folded his arms, not understanding any of the more scholarly terms. “Uh… a what now?”

“Basically, we can fire one spell after the next by using the different windows and archery positions as protection and aerial view.” Demyan concluded. “What about the battle order? Who will cast each spell?”

“I propose myself and Allision to cast the first incantation, while Korgan and Karyana execute the second.” Turalyon worded before looking at the others. “Best if you keep the troops busy on the grounds, and ready yourselves should the commanders join the battle.”

Allision nodded. “I saw Karyana ran over to the tower a few moments ago. She told me she wanted to speak to Luriah…”

The high-priest grabbed one of the scrolls and left the table. “Then we must hurry.”

Author's Note

Any and all comments are welcome.