NORTHERN FURY

Merwin Dreynoir

THE WIND WHIPPED across the Thar plains, a biting cold that cut through my armor and chilled me to the bone. Dust, thick and swirling from the advancing army, filled the air and gritted my teeth. Beneath my boots, the parched earth was hard and unforgiving.

Before me stretched the enemy army, a vast and menacing force – the reason I couldn't escort Rayeesi. It stung that the Duke had sent her away to Fort Blue, essentially banishing his mistress. Though I'd given her my best escort squad, sending her to that desolate place still felt like a betrayal.

But now, an unexpected threat had arrived at my doorstep. The news of a small Rhoadnian detachment marching towards my county had seemed strange at first, but seeing them now, the reality was undeniable. What was the Pasha thinking? What was his plan?

Their ranks swarmed, far greater than our scouts reported. Sandcastle's fall had been no fluke. I'd sent an urgent plea to the Duke for reinforcements, but none had come. Now, I stood with a meager thousand, maybe more if I was lucky. Would it be enough? My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against the silence of my fear. I shoved it down. Fear was a luxury for those with no one to protect. The fate of this land rested on my shoulders; I was the commander, and these were my troops. We would hold. I clenched my jaw, a steel trap against the rising tide of doubt.

"By the ancestors, Merwin," Josh Valiyan exclaimed, his voice laced with surprise rather than fear. "Their Aura Knights... far more than we anticipated."

I nodded grimly, my gaze fixed on the shimmering distortions surrounding the enemy's elite warriors. "Indeed, Josh. And mages, too," I added, my voice low. A cluster of figures cloaked in crimson robes stood at the edge of the enemy formation, their hands glowing faintly as they muttered incantations. "A considerable force guarding their flanks. They've come prepared."

"This is no mere border skirmish, then," Jashua rumbled, his weathered face creased with concern. "Mumtaz has brought the full might of House Mehran to bear."

Blood and ashes! Outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and potentially outmatched in terms of magical power… the odds were grim.

I squared my shoulders, meeting their gazes. "This isn't Sandcastle, gentlemen." My voice hardened. "Mumtaz won't find Cohen's weakness here."

Valiyan's lips curled into a wry smile. "No," he drawled, his eyes glinting with a hint of dark amusement, "the good Baron never could resist a good charge, could he? Led his men straight into the heart of the enemy lines, banners flying. A pity he was so eager to meet his Maker."

"He didn't have much choice," Jashua said, his voice gruff. "Caught completely off guard. Mumtaz descended on him like a whirlwind. No time to prepare, no time to wait for reinforcements."

"Indeed." A chill settled over me as I recalled the reports. "Made an example of him, didn't they?" My voice was low, but I made sure they heard every word. "His family... the garrison... slaughtered. Heads sent back as a warning."

Valiyan's hand flew to his sword, his knuckles white against the hilt. "Mumtaz is a butcher," he growled. "A cunning, ruthless bastard." He spat on the ground. "Caught Cohen completely off guard. Didn't even give us time to breathe before he was on us, burning villages, leaving a trail of corpses..." His voice cracked. "Like animals."

"He relies on fear and overwhelming force," I said, my gaze sweeping across the rugged landscape. The Thar plains stretched before us, a tapestry of sand dunes, rocky outcrops, and dry riverbeds. "He wants us to break before the first arrow flies. He wants us to see ourselves impaled on those spikes, just like the villagers." I met their gazes, a flicker of steel in my eyes. "But the Thar plains are not the open fields of Sandcastle. Here, numbers alone won't guarantee victory."

"He'll learn that Glaecians are more than a match for brute force," Jashua affirmed, his voice steady and resolute.

"Indeed," I said, a grim determination settling over me. "We won't repeat Cohen's mistakes. We will exploit the terrain, harass their flanks, disrupt their formations, and make them pay for their arrogance."

"The gullies, the rock formations, the chokepoints – these are our allies," Valiyan agreed, his eyes gleaming with a warrior's fire. "We'll turn their strength against them."

"Valiyan, take the cavalry and seize that left flank. Use the terrain to your advantage. Harry those Rhoadnian dogs, break their ranks, but don't get cocky." I clapped a hand on Valiyan's shoulder, a rare smile touching his lips. "Keep Mumtaz guessing, keep him off balance. You always were a slippery one, even back in the academy."

Valiyan's grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know me too well, old friend. Those Rhoadnian bastards won't know what hit them." He winked, then spun around, bellowing orders to his cavalrymen with an air of confident energy.

"Jashua," I continued, turning to my most trusted advisor, "you hold the right. Take the bulk of our infantry and anchor our line against their main force. Make them bleed for every inch of ground."

Jashua, a man of action rather than words, simply nodded, his grip tightening on his warhammer. He was a rock, a steady presence amidst the chaos, and I knew I could count on him to hold the line.

"What about Rina?" Jashua asked, his gaze flicking towards the center of our formation where Rina Mercia, our young Spellbringer, stood with a contingent of our most seasoned soldiers.

"Rina stays with me." I met Jashua's gaze, my voice brooking no argument. "Her firepower is crucial. We'll need it to break their lines."

******

The war drums pounded like a frantic heartbeat, their rhythm echoing across the tense battlefield. A hush fell over our ranks as a figure emerged from the Rhoadnian lines, a banner held aloft behind him – a vermillion cloth depicting a black snake coiled around a sword. The rider, a hulking brute of a man clad in heavy armor, rode a magnificent brown steed. Even from this distance, I could see his face, weathered and rough, framed by long, black hair. His eyes, black as pitch, held a glint of sadistic pleasure, and a cruel smile twisted his lips, revealing a row of stained teeth. A snake skeleton, coiled like a macabre crown, adorned his head. Mehran Mumtaz, the Desert Viper, had slithered from his hole.

His voice, amplified by aura, boomed across the plains like thunder. "I will give you one opportunity to surrender, infidels!" he roared, his words laced with venom. "Otherwise, your heads will be fed to the Rhoadnian dogs, your women will be ravaged and shared, and your leader," he spat, "the cunt of Dreynoir, will be thrown into the snake pits! Well, even if you surrender, cunt," he sneered, his sword pointing towards me, "your tragic end is inevitable."

Mumtaz's words were a viper's hiss. A tactic, a pathetic attempt to intimidate us. I wouldn't let them. I raised my voice, infusing it with my own aura, ensuring it carried across the battlefield. "The only Rhoadnian dog I see here is you, Mehran," I retorted, my voice laced with sarcasm. "No, actually," I corrected myself, "you're the snake that crawled up, thinking it could best a wolf in its own den."

Mumtaz's face was an impassive mask, his dark eyes cold and calculating. Beside him, a mage raised his hand, a sickly green flame, flickering with a malevolent life of its own, gathered in his palm. It pulsed with malevolent energy, growing brighter, hotter. A wave of heat washed over me, the smell of sulfur stinging my nostrils. For a heartbeat, time seemed to slow. I saw the mage's lips move, forming the words of an arcane incantation.

Gareth, our shield master, slammed his warhammer into the ground, a guttural incantation tearing from his lips. With a deafening roar, a wall of jagged rock burst from the earth, a fortress against the searing green fire. The impact shook the ground beneath our feet, but the shield held, the fireball shattering against it in a shower of harmless sparks.

Mumtaz, his face a mask of fury, retreated into the ranks of his army. But not before our eyes met. I held his gaze, a silent vow of defiance burning in my own. Then, I turned back to my troops, to the men and women who stood ready to fight and die at my command. Fear mingled with determination in their eyes, a reflection of the battle raging within their own hearts.

Their lives. Our land. Everything depended on this. Father Tobin moved among us, a whisper of prayers against the roar of the coming battle. Hands gripped steel, fingers traced holy symbols. The drums pounded, a frantic rhythm that echoed the beating of our hearts. We would hold. We had to.

Whistling past our ears, the first Rhoadnian arrows arced through the air. I drew my sword, its blade humming with aura, and raised it high.

"Shields up!" I bellowed, my aura-amplified voice reaching every corner of the battlefield.

Our front line braced, their shields a wall of steel. Arrows clattered harmlessly against their defenses, but the enemy surged forward, an unstoppable tide of steel and fury. As I predicted they wasted no time. The ground vibrated beneath their thundering approach. The air filled with the guttural roars of the Rhoadnian berserkers.

"Archers!" I roared. "Loose!" From their vantage points, our archers unleashed a deadly volley. The air thrummed with the twang of bowstrings, and the whistling of arrows filled the air. Our Slacian arrows, tipped with mithril and fletched with sun-eagle feathers, were swift and merciless. Rhoadnian shields splintered, men crumpled to the ground, their cries swallowed by the din of battle. But the enemy ranks closed, fresh troops replacing the fallen, their advance relentless

On their left flank, however, their formation wavered, a gap opening in their ranks. An opportunity, but a dangerous one. Was it a trap? No, Mumtaz wouldn't risk his mages...

"They're splitting their forces, Merwin!" Josh's voice cut through the din. "A detachment is moving towards the southern gully. It's a feint!"

I studied the enemy's movements, a cold knot forming in my stomach. Mumtaz was cunning, but he wouldn't risk his mages unless... "It's a feint!" I yelled to Jashua. "Hold the line! He's trying to draw us out!" I turned to our mages, my voice amplified by aura. "Focus your fire on their flanks! Don't let them break through!"

Our mages unleashed their fury. Fireballs streaked across the battlefield, exploding in fiery blossoms. Ice shards, sharp as razors, sliced through the air. Lightning crackled, splitting the sky with blinding flashes and filling the air with the sharp tang of ozone.

But the Rhoadnian shield masters were prepared. Their defensive spells shimmered into existence, deflecting and absorbing our attacks in a dazzling display of raw magical power. The battlefield became a maelstrom of energy, a chaotic dance of light and destruction.

The Rhoadnians were like a swarm of locusts, their numbers overwhelming. They pressed against our lines, testing our defenses, probing for any sign of weakness. Their ferocity was terrifying, their determination unwavering. I felt a knot of dread tightening in my stomach. We were outnumbered, and they knew it.

On the left flank, Valiyan's cavalry was a whirlwind of motion. They thundered through the rocky terrain, lances lowered, crashing into the enemy flanks before wheeling away to avoid encirclement. The ground trembled beneath the onslaught, and the air filled with the screams of men and the terrified neighing of horses. Their hit-and-run tactics were disrupting the Rhoadnian advance, but I knew they couldn't keep it up forever. The enemy was regrouping, adapting to their strategy.

On the right, Jashua's infantry stood their ground, a wall of shields and spears. But the Rhoadnian mages were taking a terrible toll. Fireballs exploded among them, searing flesh and shattering bone. Ice shards sliced through armor, leaving bloody trails. Every spell tore a gap in our lines, a gap the enemy infantry was quick to exploit. The ground was littered with the fallen, and the air thick with the stench of blood and burnt flesh.

In the center, Rina unleashed her fury. Fireballs erupted from her outstretched hands, each one a miniature sun, incinerating entire squads of Rhoadnian soldiers. Her fire mage squad, unleashing their own fiery blasts, added to the inferno. The air crackled with heat, and the stench of burning flesh was thick and suffocating.

Without warning, the wind whipped into a frenzy, a howling vortex that tore at our banners and blinded us with dust. I staggered, shielding my eyes, and through the swirling grit, I saw them: Rhoadnian mages, their robes billowing in the unnatural gale, their arms raised in a gesture of power. The air crackled with arcane energy, the wind a weapon in their hands.

The ground erupted. Fissures snaked across the battlefield, swallowing men and horses alike. The earth groaned and buckled, sending tremors through our ranks. I saw soldiers disappear into the gaping chasms, their screams echoing from the depths. Through the dust and chaos, I glimpsed the Rhoadnian mages, their combined power warping the very land beneath our feet. They were focused on the left, trying to cripple our cavalry.

The left flank was a scene of carnage. Valiyan's cavalry, their ranks thinned, fought valiantly, but the enemy's onslaught was relentless. Horses reared and fell, their riders trampled beneath the hooves of the advancing horde. The air was filled with the screams of the wounded and dying, a symphony of despair that pierced the heart.

On the right, Jashua's infantry held their ground with grim determination. They were a bulwark against the Rhoadnian tide, but the enemy's numbers were overwhelming. Men fell with every passing moment, their bodies littering the ground like fallen statues.

Rina, my last hope, was faltering. Her face was pale, sweat soaking her brow, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The fireballs were becoming fewer, their flames flickering with a desperate intensity. Even from this distance, the heat was unbearable, the stench of burning flesh a sickening reminder of the cost. We were losing ground, and it all stemmed from that damned combined spell. We needed to break their connection, disrupt their magic... but how?

"Rina!" I screamed, my voice almost swallowed by the chaos. "Can you break that spell?"

Her eyes met mine, filled with a fierce resolve. "I can try, Merwin," she gasped, "but it will take everything I have left."

"Then do it," I urged, "We need an opening, now!"

Rina's face contorted with effort, her eyes squeezed shut. Then, a blinding flash of light erupted from her outstretched hands, followed by a deafening roar that seemed to split the heavens. I shielded my eyes, and when I could see again, I gasped. A colossal fireball, a blazing inferno larger than any I had ever witnessed, soared through the air, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. It arced towards the heart of the Rhoadnian army, a blazing comet aimed at their mages.

Panic erupted in the Rhoadnian ranks. The fireball descended like a wrathful god, incinerating everything in its path. Their carefully maintained formations dissolved into chaos as soldiers scrambled to escape the inferno. They shoved and clawed, desperate to protect their mages, their voices raised in a cacophony of fear and confusion.

"Cavalry, charge!" I roared, my voice a thunderclap across the battlefield. Valiyan and his riders surged forward like a unleashed torrent. Lances lowered, they crashed into the disoriented Rhoadnian ranks, a wave of steel and fury. Shields splintered, armor crumpled, and men were thrown through the air like rag dolls. The ground trembled beneath the onslaught, the air thick with dust and the screams of the fallen.

Jashua's infantry, sensing the momentum shift, surged forward like a wave of steel. Their shields interlocked, their spears a bristling wall of defiance. They pushed back the Rhoadnian infantry, their cries of battle echoing across the field. The enemy faltered, their ranks breaking, their momentum shattered.

I led the charge in the center, a desperate push with our remaining forces. Our swords clashed against the enemy's, a whirlwind of steel and fury, and our auras collided in a blinding burst of raw energy. Shattered and broken, the Rhoadnian lines finally gave way. They began to retreat. But the battle raged on. Formidable in number, the Rhoadnian Aura Knights rallied their forces, forming a desperate last stand.

Sparks showered as our blades met, a blinding flurry of steel. The Rhoadnian Aura Knight was a formidable opponent, his fiery aura blazing, his attacks relentless. I parried, thrust, and riposted, each movement a desperate gamble. Sweat stung my eyes, my muscles screamed for respite, but I couldn't yield. This fight was a dance with death, a struggle for survival where every strike could be my last.

The ground beneath me rippled, and a tremor shot up my legs, throwing me off balance. An earthquake? No, it was magic. I glimpsed a Rhoadnian mage, concealed amongst the rocks, his hands glowing with an eerie light. He was warping the very earth beneath our feet! I stumbled, and the fire knight seized the opportunity. His blade, a searing arc of fire, plunged towards my chest.