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Blood was humming in Hazumi's ears, an enticing rhythm that urged her on, urged her forwards. The battle was in full swing, cries of pain and victory getting caught in the wind like tattered clothing and tossed in all directions, the smell of blood and magic making the night air dense and hard to swallow. At noon, when the sun was high up and her sight was at its best, she had counted the Stygians: just under a hundred thousand men and women that seemed to have no notion of hunger or fatigue. Hazumi, Isabelle, and some twenty thousand warriors were Angel’s Landing’s last line of defence, the last collection of souls that could prevent the massacre that would ensue if the Stygian army breached the walls.
Blood was pumping, pushing her forwards, blood was wafting, luring her in. Standing on top of the hill overlooking a patch of the battlefield her hand slowly rose, palm down… and so did the life of a hundred living and dying right in front of her. The energy, the essence held within their mortal flesh left their body like the shimmering mist of morning and rose at her gesture, the bodies previously twitching now collapsing utterly motionless. The gentle scent of souls overwhelmed the stench of the blood, reminiscent of the sweet aroma of araliya petals and fresh rain. A bitter taste filled Hazumi’s mouth but she just narrowed her eyes slightly. The essence of the deceased came to her, warm and fresh. Tenderly, Hazumi knelt and buried the energy, keeping her hand on the soil to help it reach deep down and take root. It had been a trap set long ago, it had been the reason why she had been routed to the last line of defence instead of leading an offence. She was the final ace. Or rather, her abilities. Hidden until that point, not even the men and women from Angel’s Landing who gave their lives today, knew what the purpose of the trap was. If they did, then less of them would volunteer their essence for the creation of the golem. Now that a kilometer of the battlefield was eradicated, Hazumi held the essence of at least two hundred people in her hand and slowly fed it to her creation.
The battle was lost to the woman’s senses as she worked on creating new life but that didn’t mean time had stopped around her. Something sharp whipped her shoulder and brought her out of the daze, almost ruining the spell. As her eyes snapped to the side to see what had hit her, she caught a movement in front of her, followed by a sharp noise and splinters exploding in her face. It took her a moment to realise the tail of her armour had lashed out like a snake to interject an arrow aimed straight at Hazumi’s chest. Looking out she spotted an archer in the distance, reaching for another arrow.
“Don’t count on that again.” Ibuki’s voice came from behind. “Work faster.”
Hazumi nodded slightly and kept her eyes forward, hoping to finish the spell in time to evade the next attack. On her left someone shouted and opened fire, trying to buy her some time. It was difficult to work on the golem, to knit everything together and cut the clay just right for it to be both fast and mobile, and to keep an eye on the battle at the same time. Luckily Ibuki had predicted that and suggested she put his soul into her armour so he could keep an eye on her while she was distracted. She had to thank him later, apparently the dragon tail wasn’t such a ridiculous idea after all.
At last the golem was ready to rise, a colossal monster still hidden beneath the unassuming guise of a hill. But the souls weren’t that many and it wouldn’t last all night before its energy burnt out. Still, it was their last resort and as such it had to do maximum damage for as long as it lasted. So another investment was in order – this time an illusion. A simple one that may quickly be broken, but an effective one as well. It was transparency. As the golem broke through his egg and emerged, the Stygians in the distance would be none the wiser. All they would hear was a rumble, all they would feel would be the vibrations under their feet. Then – death, quick and swift. Even if a mage was among them, capable of exposing the giant, she was sure it would do enough damage within the first minutes of it entering the battlefield. Countless would fall… and then their bodies would become one with the golem who would keep them alive and screaming for long enough for everyone on the west side of the city to hear. The rest was up to the mages and warriors. She was needed elsewhere.
Without waiting to see the havoc and terror her creation would cause, Hazumi spread the huge leathery wings of her armour and took off. It had taken weeks to learn how to ride the wind and panic still stiffened her joints as soon as her feet left the ground, but she had quickly learned that falling didn’t kill her… and she had no choice. Things on the southern line were dire.
Hazumi flew as fast as she could, sweeping over the fires and flashes of magic at a speed that made her eyes water and her skin-sting. A fireball caught one of her wings and singed her left cheek, sending her plummeting to the ground. With an effort she managed to twist enough to steer herself in the direction she wanted before the ground surged at her. She more crashed than landed on the wooden construction, dislodging one of the elements that two soldiers hurried to catch and put back in place. Shaken, she looked up to a world that was no longer spinning and examined the damage to herself. Luckily the armour had protected her from the fall. Her left cheek was starting to tingle but she knew the pain would soon subside. This was more important. Panting, she stood and swept her hand over the battlefield, catching as much essence as she could to power the wooden golem. The soldiers looked cautiously at her as she brought the wood to life, a puppet they had worked on for two weeks before today. It was twice the size of the other golem, a loose collection of planks, logs and furniture collected from the nearby sheds and cattle-shacks, bolted together or just lodged into each other. Unlike the other golem, it was also not meant to be stable, nor durable. On the contrary, this one was meant to break down easily. It was merely a means to an end.
The wood was dry and brittle and it was soaked in whatever precious fuel Angel’s landing could spare. It was reasonable to assume that the Sygians could communicate across the battlefield just as well as Angel’s landing’s telepaths and so the strategy had to be different. As this golem was struck, it would splinter and shatter, embedding itself into the foe and into the ground. The soldiers were instructed to retreat as soon as they heard the creak of forest before the birth of a storm and they knew what to look for – a ripple in the night... their own reflection. This golem would be protected by a mirror spell, just as simple as the other one, but confusing in a different manner. And when it was all reduced to splinters and dead wood once again… that’s when the fire mages would rain Armageddon down the entire battlefield.
Hazumi released her hold on the golem and watched it rise. Her own face stared back at her, dirty and ugly. On her cheek a red burn had blossomed like a bloody rose, leaking blood and fat down her neck and the pain was slowly creeping in but Hazumi’s features were twisted for another reason. It’s the eyes that bothered her, the cold merciless eyes that showed no remorse for the hundreds they’d just killed. Murderer.
The golem creaked as it walked off slowly, marching over the fallen in search for fresh prey. Hazumi took her eyes off her own face and looked at the only two people who remained alive in front of her. The two soldiers looked back, one with fear, the other with disgust. She should kill one of them and take his essence to heal herself. After what they’d seen, one would refuse to fight and the other would resent her forever. The pain from the burn was now so intense she couldn’t keep her left eye open but when she closed it, the skin stretched causing yet more pain. What is one more death on the scene of a massacre?
Yet she would endure. Turning her back to the men, Hazumi took her position behind one of the stone walls, remnants of the wars past. From there she would keep the golems going and hope to get to the essence of the dead before the necromancers... and get enough to keep both the golems and herself alive until the battle was won.
…
Akime’s eyes slowly drifted to the chest in the corner of her cabin. In front of it, the armour was laid out that had saved her life multiple times during that battle. It was the exquisite work of a blacksmith long passed, a man called Urcis Kareendis. How many centuries has it been since she’d last worn it? She couldn’t remember yet she still kept it, as if it might be needed again. The dragon leather was dry but not cracked despite having lost its shine ages ago but it. The plates of every piece of amour were worn and laced with scratches, but the wings and breastplate were the worst to wear. Both bore deep dents and slashes where blades had managed to tear through the layers of tantalum and lead and reach skin.
The woman smiled. The breastplate was so scratched it looked like inox, yet on the other pieces you could still see vaguely see your reflection, albeit cut through and altered. She had stopped polishing the armour long ago but she had the strong suspicion Ibuki or Amber were still doing it.
Tearing her gaze off the armour, Akime looked over to the Tower, both with her eyes and with her other sight. A smile cracked her lips as she noticed all the newcomers. Suddenly she couldn’t wait to get off the ship and meet them all... especially one.
Blood was pumping, pushing her forwards, blood was wafting, luring her in. Standing on top of the hill overlooking a patch of the battlefield her hand slowly rose, palm down… and so did the life of a hundred living and dying right in front of her. The energy, the essence held within their mortal flesh left their body like the shimmering mist of morning and rose at her gesture, the bodies previously twitching now collapsing utterly motionless. The gentle scent of souls overwhelmed the stench of the blood, reminiscent of the sweet aroma of araliya petals and fresh rain. A bitter taste filled Hazumi’s mouth but she just narrowed her eyes slightly. The essence of the deceased came to her, warm and fresh. Tenderly, Hazumi knelt and buried the energy, keeping her hand on the soil to help it reach deep down and take root. It had been a trap set long ago, it had been the reason why she had been routed to the last line of defence instead of leading an offence. She was the final ace. Or rather, her abilities. Hidden until that point, not even the men and women from Angel’s Landing who gave their lives today, knew what the purpose of the trap was. If they did, then less of them would volunteer their essence for the creation of the golem. Now that a kilometer of the battlefield was eradicated, Hazumi held the essence of at least two hundred people in her hand and slowly fed it to her creation.
The battle was lost to the woman’s senses as she worked on creating new life but that didn’t mean time had stopped around her. Something sharp whipped her shoulder and brought her out of the daze, almost ruining the spell. As her eyes snapped to the side to see what had hit her, she caught a movement in front of her, followed by a sharp noise and splinters exploding in her face. It took her a moment to realise the tail of her armour had lashed out like a snake to interject an arrow aimed straight at Hazumi’s chest. Looking out she spotted an archer in the distance, reaching for another arrow.
“Don’t count on that again.” Ibuki’s voice came from behind. “Work faster.”
Hazumi nodded slightly and kept her eyes forward, hoping to finish the spell in time to evade the next attack. On her left someone shouted and opened fire, trying to buy her some time. It was difficult to work on the golem, to knit everything together and cut the clay just right for it to be both fast and mobile, and to keep an eye on the battle at the same time. Luckily Ibuki had predicted that and suggested she put his soul into her armour so he could keep an eye on her while she was distracted. She had to thank him later, apparently the dragon tail wasn’t such a ridiculous idea after all.
At last the golem was ready to rise, a colossal monster still hidden beneath the unassuming guise of a hill. But the souls weren’t that many and it wouldn’t last all night before its energy burnt out. Still, it was their last resort and as such it had to do maximum damage for as long as it lasted. So another investment was in order – this time an illusion. A simple one that may quickly be broken, but an effective one as well. It was transparency. As the golem broke through his egg and emerged, the Stygians in the distance would be none the wiser. All they would hear was a rumble, all they would feel would be the vibrations under their feet. Then – death, quick and swift. Even if a mage was among them, capable of exposing the giant, she was sure it would do enough damage within the first minutes of it entering the battlefield. Countless would fall… and then their bodies would become one with the golem who would keep them alive and screaming for long enough for everyone on the west side of the city to hear. The rest was up to the mages and warriors. She was needed elsewhere.
Without waiting to see the havoc and terror her creation would cause, Hazumi spread the huge leathery wings of her armour and took off. It had taken weeks to learn how to ride the wind and panic still stiffened her joints as soon as her feet left the ground, but she had quickly learned that falling didn’t kill her… and she had no choice. Things on the southern line were dire.
Hazumi flew as fast as she could, sweeping over the fires and flashes of magic at a speed that made her eyes water and her skin-sting. A fireball caught one of her wings and singed her left cheek, sending her plummeting to the ground. With an effort she managed to twist enough to steer herself in the direction she wanted before the ground surged at her. She more crashed than landed on the wooden construction, dislodging one of the elements that two soldiers hurried to catch and put back in place. Shaken, she looked up to a world that was no longer spinning and examined the damage to herself. Luckily the armour had protected her from the fall. Her left cheek was starting to tingle but she knew the pain would soon subside. This was more important. Panting, she stood and swept her hand over the battlefield, catching as much essence as she could to power the wooden golem. The soldiers looked cautiously at her as she brought the wood to life, a puppet they had worked on for two weeks before today. It was twice the size of the other golem, a loose collection of planks, logs and furniture collected from the nearby sheds and cattle-shacks, bolted together or just lodged into each other. Unlike the other golem, it was also not meant to be stable, nor durable. On the contrary, this one was meant to break down easily. It was merely a means to an end.
The wood was dry and brittle and it was soaked in whatever precious fuel Angel’s landing could spare. It was reasonable to assume that the Sygians could communicate across the battlefield just as well as Angel’s landing’s telepaths and so the strategy had to be different. As this golem was struck, it would splinter and shatter, embedding itself into the foe and into the ground. The soldiers were instructed to retreat as soon as they heard the creak of forest before the birth of a storm and they knew what to look for – a ripple in the night... their own reflection. This golem would be protected by a mirror spell, just as simple as the other one, but confusing in a different manner. And when it was all reduced to splinters and dead wood once again… that’s when the fire mages would rain Armageddon down the entire battlefield.
Hazumi released her hold on the golem and watched it rise. Her own face stared back at her, dirty and ugly. On her cheek a red burn had blossomed like a bloody rose, leaking blood and fat down her neck and the pain was slowly creeping in but Hazumi’s features were twisted for another reason. It’s the eyes that bothered her, the cold merciless eyes that showed no remorse for the hundreds they’d just killed. Murderer.
The golem creaked as it walked off slowly, marching over the fallen in search for fresh prey. Hazumi took her eyes off her own face and looked at the only two people who remained alive in front of her. The two soldiers looked back, one with fear, the other with disgust. She should kill one of them and take his essence to heal herself. After what they’d seen, one would refuse to fight and the other would resent her forever. The pain from the burn was now so intense she couldn’t keep her left eye open but when she closed it, the skin stretched causing yet more pain. What is one more death on the scene of a massacre?
Yet she would endure. Turning her back to the men, Hazumi took her position behind one of the stone walls, remnants of the wars past. From there she would keep the golems going and hope to get to the essence of the dead before the necromancers... and get enough to keep both the golems and herself alive until the battle was won.
…
Akime’s eyes slowly drifted to the chest in the corner of her cabin. In front of it, the armour was laid out that had saved her life multiple times during that battle. It was the exquisite work of a blacksmith long passed, a man called Urcis Kareendis. How many centuries has it been since she’d last worn it? She couldn’t remember yet she still kept it, as if it might be needed again. The dragon leather was dry but not cracked despite having lost its shine ages ago but it. The plates of every piece of amour were worn and laced with scratches, but the wings and breastplate were the worst to wear. Both bore deep dents and slashes where blades had managed to tear through the layers of tantalum and lead and reach skin.
The woman smiled. The breastplate was so scratched it looked like inox, yet on the other pieces you could still see vaguely see your reflection, albeit cut through and altered. She had stopped polishing the armour long ago but she had the strong suspicion Ibuki or Amber were still doing it.
Tearing her gaze off the armour, Akime looked over to the Tower, both with her eyes and with her other sight. A smile cracked her lips as she noticed all the newcomers. Suddenly she couldn’t wait to get off the ship and meet them all... especially one.