Final Conflict

Tepet Andrani gazed over the troops filling the courtyard with a critical eye, and was pleased to see most of the new recruits doing well.  The wooden palisade surrounding them was newly built, but its thick timbers should hold off even a determined foe for a goodly amount of time.  He would have preferred to use stone in the construction, but even being this close to the mountains there just wasn’t time.  He and his men had a long list of enemies in the Realm, and there was no telling when they might arrive.

There was also concern that the neighboring kingdom of Harborhead would attack should it learn of their presence.  The militaristic state was closely allied to the Realm, and was notorious for its expansionist policies.  Most likely they wouldn’t take kindly to learning that a standing force of some three hundred men had settled less than ten days journey northeast of their capital city of Kirighast.

The weight of such military matters was only part of his long list of concerns.  Feeding, housing and arming his men was a constant chore.  Most of the wealth that he had brought with him when he fled the Realm had been spent, and now only the cooperation of the surrounding villages was keeping them going.  They had agreed to provide food and recruits in exchange for protection from Harborhead, but even with their donations he worried about the coming winter.

They were situated where the savannah gave way to foothills, but although the soil was excellent they had not had time to plant much.  Next year, if they made it that long, they would have a steady supply of food.  Until then they would simply have to make due. 

Hardship was something that they were all growing accustomed to, but despite the setbacks Andrani was still convinced that leaving the Realm had been a good decision.  The sacrifices that they had made thus far saddened him, but he knew that the men like Drevin who had given their lives had done so willingly.  Had they stayed he would most likely be dead, and the men would be pawns in whatever scheme House Cathak decided on.  At least here they could live free, and pay homage to the memory of the Realm as it had been before the corruption.

His reverie was interrupted as a galloping horse rushed into the courtyard.  Its rider drew his mount up short, and leapt nimbly from the saddle.  He recognized Ryokai and approached his second in command to see what had him in such a hurry.

“Colonel,” his comrade panted. “There is a large force of men moving towards us from the south.”

“Are they Realm?” he asked grimly.  His men weren’t ready to face an assault by determined Realm legionaries.

“No.  They are native southerners, but I couldn’t make out any uniforms.  I counted about a thousand.”

“Curious.  Mercenaries hired by Harborhead, perhaps.”  He had expected a stronger response to their presence.  A thousand men was a formidable threat, but as his men were well trained and well defended he was confident that they could win.

“I couldn’t be sure, Colonel.  I just wanted to get back and inform you.  I left three scouts to watch their approach.”

“Very good, Major.  I would have done the same.  Take a few moments to compose yourself, and then muster the men.  This could be one hell of a fight.”

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

Marette turned a page awkwardly, and had to steady herself for a moment to avoid falling from her mount.  Reading on a horse had taken some getting used to, but it was infinitely superior to wasting so many hours a day doing nothing but travel.  The sounds of the caravan around her were a constant disruption, but she had grown quite adept at tuning out the noise.  Currently she was studying a spell that would allow her to send messages over vast distances, and could tell that she was close to unlocking its secrets.  She had devoted much of the last several weeks to learning it, and was quite proud of her diligence.

Drevin’s escort continued to grow with every town and village they passed through, and with the exception of the rigid Varang city-states they had made converts everywhere they went.  After his battle with Syran it seemed that every youth they encountered wanted to share in the Solar’s glory, and at last count they had nearly a thousand followers traveling with them.

With the aid of Hamil and several other hand picked men Drevin was trying to forge them into a competent military force, but was having only limited success.  So many men were difficult to organize, and the task was made harder when they spent most of each day marching.  Feeding them was also becoming difficult, although many of them had brought stores of food when they joined.

Drevin claimed that they were nearing their goal, and she hoped that he was right.  Perhaps his old commander would be able to provide them with some supplies, and maybe even give them a new home.  She had come to loath the savannah in her time here, and was gladdened as they began to move out of it and into the foothills.  The grasses thinned, and there were fewer insects stinging her.

“Chosen!” called one of the scouts from up ahead.  She lowered her book, and turned her attention to the head of the caravan.  A dark skinned man had run up to Drevin, and was delivering some sort of message.

“Yes?” Drevin asked.

“There is a settlement up ahead.  It looks to be newly made, and it is peopled by soldiers.”

“I see.  Why don’t you get something to drink, and then report to Hamil?  He will have new orders for you.”

The man nodded gratefully, and sprinted off to find Drevin’s second in command.  In the meantime the Solar raised a hand and the caravan crawled to a halt.  He dismounted, and a follower ran over to take the reigns from him.  The boy wore an expression of absolute worship, and was visibly pleased at the chance to serve him.

At first she had been worried that such behavior would make Drevin arrogant, but her fears had proved to be unfounded.  He still seemed uncomfortable with such behavior, and discouraged it wherever possible.  Unfortunately, no matter how many times he tried they never stopped treating him like a god.  They listened to his sermons about the Unconquered Sun, but it was clear to her that they followed him and not his god.

She put her book away, and slid smoothly to the ground.  Marette had grown much more accustomed to life on the road, and the time before seemed dim and unsubstantial.  Never had she felt so alive or been a part of something so grand.  Everywhere Drevin passed the world changed, and she had changed with it.

She saw Drevin duck into a hastily erected tent, and hurried after him.  There were questions that she wanted answered, and if she didn’t get to him now he would soon be surrounded by officers and other concerns.  When she slid into the tent Drevin was unbuckling his Daiklaive, and he turned to give her a warm smile.  He was obviously excited.

“Is it them?” she asked.

“I think so, but I don’t want to get any closer until I’m sure.”

“That makes sense.  Are you going to send an emissary?”

“No.” he responded carefully, “I am going to go myself.”

“Alright” she responded calmly, and he raised an eyebrow.  Clearly he had expected more of an argument. “I’m going with you.”

“I’d prefer that you stayed here.  It’s safer.”

“If it’s that dangerous, then you shouldn’t be going either.  Besides, I’ll have you to watch out for me.

He eyed her carefully for a moment, but then seemed to realize that arguing with her was pointless.  His people jumped to do his bidding, but she never would and he knew it.

“We’re leaving in an hour or so.”

“Who are you leaving in charge?” she asked.

“Hamil.  He can do the best job of keeping control of things while we’re gone.”

“A good choice.  Are we going alone?”

“Yes.  If its anything that we can’t handle, then a few more guards won’t be much help.” He reasoned.

Within a few minutes he had changed into a clean set of clothes.  His armor had been polished to a brilliant sheen, and his lion’s skin cloak lent him a menacing air.  She had never seen him look so impressive, and that was saying something.

“Shall we be off?” he asked.

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

Major Ryokai watched from the palisade wall as two people walked their mounts toward the gates.  The woman wore the brightly colored skirts of the plains, but her dark hair spoke of Realm ancestry.  At her side was a powerfully built man wearing golden armor.  The setting sun gave the yellow metal of his shield a slightly reddish tint, and the hilt of a Daiklaive jutted over one shoulder.  His long black hair was gathered into a ponytail, and the lion’s skin cloak lent him a savage appearance.

The Major would definitely remember meeting a man of such stature, yet he was somehow familiar.  As the pair came closer his eyes widened in disbelief.  Was that Drevin?  He hopped from his perch on the wall, and rushed to the front gates.  Colonel Andrani was already there to greet their visitors, and his jaw hung open flaccidly.

“Well met, Colonel.  It’s been a long time.” Drevin greeted Andrani.  Yes, it was definitely Drevin.

“How did you survive?” Colonel Tepet asked in shock.

“Marette and I were set lose in the hunt at the House of Bells, and we managed to make it off the grounds.  We took a ship from Arjuf to Chiaroscuro, and have been trying to find you ever since.”

“Drevin, I can’t believe it.” Ryokai found himself saying.  He clasped his old companion in a rough hug, and found it returned.

“You’re wearing a Daiklaive.” Andrani pointed out.  He was obviously confused, and Ryokai shared the feeling.  No mortal could wield one as they were simply too heavy.

“Colonel, I can explain that and many other things, but I would like to do so in private.  Is there somewhere that we can talk?”

“Of course.  Follow me.” Andrani led them into the small structure that had been erected for his use.  They may as well not have bothered, though.  Ryokai could see the men staring at Drevin curiously, and he had no doubt that whatever they discussed would move through the ranks faster than the very wind itself.  Inside the Colonel bade Drevin and his companion to sit at a rough wooden table.  Ryokai followed suit, and Andrani pulled the door shut behind them.

“Ok, Drevin.” Ryokai asked. “By the Infernal pits what’s going on?  Why are you dressed like that, and why are you at the head of an army on our very doorstep?”

“I guess that I had better start at the beginning.  When Marette and I escaped from the House of Bells we didn’t do it without a fight.  We were set on by their very best students, and I was forced to kill several of them to get away.” He explained slowly.

“Wait, you killed four of them?  Drevin you are a skilled swordsman, but that’s not possible.” The Colonel scoffed.

“It is now.” Drevin countered, and he began to glow softly.  A golden circle had appeared on his forehead.

“By the bloody gods.  You are Anathema.” Ryokai swore.

“He’s not what you think.” Drevin’s female companion interrupted. “I mean, yes he is a Solar.  But what we have been taught about them is all lies.”

“And you have proof of this?” Andrani asked.

“Yes.  I have a journal from the first age.  It talks about the Dragon-Blooded revolting against the Solar and their Lunar consorts.”

“And I have my memories.” Drevin spoke up.

Andrani and Ryokai looked at each other, and he could tell that the Colonel was at a loss.  He shrugged to show that he didn’t know what to make of this either.

“Well,” the Colonel finally spoke. “I have known you for a long time, and I cannot imagine you as an Infernal Anathema bent on destroying creation.  But I would still like to see the proof that you bring.  The men may not react well.”

“What of the men that you bring, Drevin?  What do you intend to do with them?” Ryokai asked.

“I will forge them into an army, and I will conquer the Realm.” He stated simply as if talking about the weather.

“Assuming that’s true what do you want with us?” the Colonel asked.

“I would like you to join me.”

“Forgive me Drevin, but that sounds like suicide.”  Ryokai laughed.

“Maybe, but that is what I intend to do.  I’ll give you a few days to think about it.”

“Alright, I can accept that.  I would ask that you bring your men no closer, however.” Andrani stipulated.

“Fair enough, Colonel.” Drevin stood and his female companion joined him.  “May I have leave to speak with Emirile?”

“I’d prefer that you avoid the men for now.  I don’t want to see them panic.”

“Very well.” Drevin responded coldly.  His companion set an obviously ancient tome on the table, and they left the building.

“So what do you think, Ryokai?” Colonel Tepet asked.

“I honestly don’t know.  It was Drevin, but at the same time it wasn’t.  He seemed so much more forceful.  So much more powerful.”

“I am going to reserve judgment until I read this.” Andrani held up the tome that Drevin had left behind. “But I can tell you this.  At this point I would consider a deal with the very demons of Malfeas if it keeps our enemies at bay.”

 

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

 

General Cathak Tarkene had seldom been in so foul a mood.  His plans to entrap the fugitive Anathema had been fruitless so far, and delay after delay had kept him from reaching Andrani.  Oh, there had been rumors of the renegade legionnaires passing through, but no one was quite sure where they had gone.  He was sure that he was on the right trail, but he was growing impatient.  Two months had been wasted so far, and sooner or later he would be recalled to the Blessed Isle.

Already he had left one Dragon behind with the siege weapons in Yane.  They had been slowing him too much, and he doubted that they would be any real help when he finally cornered his prey.  He had sent another Dragon with his nephew Shinjen to chase the Anathema towards Andrani, and curiously had not heard anything from them in days.  That left him with about four thousand legionaries and another two thousand archers.  Still more than enough to deal with one renegade Dragon.

Now they were passing through the Realm tributary of Harborhead.  The people here had been very accommodating, but none of them had any information about where Andrani might have gone.  By the maidens he could use a little luck.

“Colonel, we have news.” A voice spoke from outside his command tent.

“Enter.”

“Our scouts believe that they have found the Anathema.” His spymaster explained.

“Go on.” He prompted.

“Several villagers reported a ‘Drevin Lionslayer’ passing through with a sizable force.  He matches the description that we circulated.  They were headed northeast, and couldn’t be more than a few days from here.”

“I see.  Pass orders to each Colonel that we march at dawn.” Tarkene smiled grimly.  At last some good news.  If the Anathema had a ‘force’ with him, then he had most likely linked up with Andrani.  Very soon both of them would be dealt with.  It seemed that prayers could be answered.

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

 

 

Swish.

Swish, thwack.

Swish.

Crack!

Drevin’s practice sword connected with Hamil’s knee, and his subordinate dropped to the ground with a cry of pain.  He had struck harder than he intended, and felt bad at his loss of control.

“I’m sorry, Hamil.  Go have Marette take a look at that.”

“No apologies are needed, Chosen.” Hamil gave an awkward bow, and limped off to find the Dragon-Blooded healer.  Drevin had taken to sparing with Hamil every day, and the young warrior had improved his martial skills immeasurably in the past few weeks.  This had been the first time that he had hurt his student, and he cursed himself for letting anger distract him.

It had been three days with no word from the Colonel.  In the meantime he had been drilling his men, and had set up a temporary camp for them.  They had benefited from both the rest and the stability of being in one location, and were beginning to coalesce into a skilled army.  It would still be months before they could compare to Realm troops, but he knew that given time they would reach the lofty goals he set for them.

He toweled the sweat off of himself, and put his shirt back on.  Patience was not one of his strengths, but he knew that he had no choice.  He had lived with being an Anathema for months already, but Andrani had just learned that fact.  Their Realm training taught that he was destined to destroy creation, and even the journal that he had given them might not convince the Colonel that he was no monster.

The sudden blast of a horn in the distance drew his attention.  At first he mistook it, and thought that Andrani was announcing a delegation.  Then he realized that the sound had come from the south.  He hurried back to his tent, and buckled on his armor and sword.  By the time he was finished Hamil was waiting for him outside.

“Chosen, a very large force of armored men advances from the south.  I believe that they outnumber us considerably.  They bear the markings of the Realm.”

“The Realm?  Blast it!  It must be the 11^th legion.  I had no idea that they would follow us out this far.”

“What would you have us do?”

“How far off are they?” Drevin asked.

“Perhaps three hours at their current pace, Chosen.”

“Alright, have the men form up into ranks.  Then fall back towards the fort to the north.  Andrani had better reach a decision quickly.”  Hamil turned and began shouting orders.  After a moment’s thought Drevin ducked back into his tent.   He picked up the massive claw that Syran had given him, and sliced open one finger with it.  He wasn’t sure how the magic worked, but he hoped that whatever it did happened fast.  He could use all the help that he could get.

He ran outside and a youngster was already saddling his horse.  This was going to be a close race.  If he could get his men in position, then they could use the wall of Andrani’s fort to keep the army from encircling them.  Hopefully, he could also get the Colonel to add his troops to the battle.

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

 

“Colonel, you’d better come see this!” One of his junior officers yelled from a position on the wall.  He recognized the young man as one of the new recruits, but Andrani couldn’t recall the dark skinned native’s name.  He infused his anima with essence, and leapt lightly to the top of the wall.  Swirls of blue tinged air surrounded him, and he balanced precariously on one of the timbers.  Every once in a while it felt good to show off a little, and demonstrating his prowess to the new troops didn’t hurt either.

In the distance he could see a cloud of dust approaching.  Within moments he could make out forms in the murk, and realized that Drevin’s troops were moving towards them.  Did they mean to attack?  He had been about to send a missive accepting Drevin’s offer to join forces, but perhaps he had been wrong.  If the Wanderer’s journal was to be accepted as truth, then the Dragon-Blooded had risen up and overthrown their Solar masters.  Of course it was quite possible that the book was an elaborate ruse meant to trick him, but somehow he doubted it.  One of his sorcerers had confirmed that it did indeed date back to the first age.

“Major,” He called down to Ryokai. “Would you go out and find out what he wants?”

“Of course, Colonel.” His friend replied, and the gate was opened to allow him out.  As soon as he was through several men pulled the massive timbers back into place.  He watched as Ryokai trotted down the road toward the approaching army, and he hoped that there was a reasonable explanation.  He didn’t want to meet his old protégé on the field of battle, and seriously doubted his ability to beat him in any case.  Even he was familiar with the legends of the Solars.  They could kill with a touch, and supposedly slaughtered indiscriminately.

Suddenly a single white horse burst out of the dust.  Its rider was a shining golden beacon, and he knew that it had to be Drevin.  The Solar drew his horse up short when he reached Ryokai, and the pair exchanged words for a few moments.  Then Drevin raced back to his ranks, and Ryokai was running back.  The Colonel dropped to the ground near the gates, and gestured for his men to open them.

Ryokai was winded when he arrived, but he managed to gasp out his message. “The…the 11^th legion is attacking.”

“By the gods we aren’t ready…” Andrani whispered as his heart sank.  Drevin had accumulated a fair sized force, but they would be cut down like wheat before the might of a full Realm legion.  Superior weapons and armor bolstered the imperial forces, and their ranks were stiffened with Dragon-Blooded.  His own Dragon added to Drevin’s army might give them a chance, but he doubted it.  Still, he had little choice in the matter.  When General Tarkene had finished with Drevin he would turn on the fort next.  He had to stand together with the Anathema.  No, with the Solar.  He’d already broken with the Realm and it was time he set aside the prejudices he’d learned there.

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

“Steady on the line!” Drevin bellowed to his waiting troops.  Many had never seen combat, and he read fear in their eyes.  Yet he could also see the hope, and knew that they trusted him completely.  He hoped that he proved worthy of it.  Moving with exaggerated slowness he pulled the Horn of the Dawn from its case.  It had been considered a wonder even in the first age, and as he put it to his lips a rush of memory overcame him.

“Telrin, I have finished at last!” Yulanda yelled up at him.  He had been about to depart for the front, but turned to see what his Eclipse sister had wrought for him.  She was known across creation as one of the foremost artificers, and she had recently boasted that she was crafting the item that would turn the tide against the Infernal hordes.  He knew that she was prone to exaggeration, but also didn’t doubt that whatever she was bringing would be worth using.

She mounted the stairs towards him two at a time, and when she reached the landing handed him something wrapped in oilcloth.  He carefully unwrapped it, and saw an intricately carved horn.  It was inlaid with Orichalum runes, and he could feel the power emanating from it.

“What does it do?” he asked.

“It harnesses one of the mightiest Solar Circle spells.  Your army will be blessed with the Incantation of the Invincible Army.  The Unconquered Sun will smile upon you while the Five Maidens curse the fortunes of your foes.” She bragged.

“I am impressed.” He responded, and wasn’t lying.  Only a few of the mightiest Sorcerers could wield the potent spell, and then only at great cost.  An army using the Solar Circle spell lost the use of one of their most potent Sorcerers.  The caster had to keep his arms raised for the duration of the spell, and thus could summon no other magics.

This wonder truly would better their chances in the coming battle…

 

 

Drevin blew with all his might, and felt much of his essence flow into the Horn of the Dawn.  The clouds above parted, and bright sunlight streamed down upon his troops.  Their fear melted away, and they were filled with the power to crush their foes.  In the distance he could see the 11^th legion approaching, and a slight shimmer showed the spell at work on them as well.  Their blows would go amiss, and their hearts would be heavy.

Drevin sank to his knees for a moment, but staggered back to his feet.  Using the horn had drained him of much of his essence, but he considered the price worth it.  He still had enough energy for the coming battle, and the potent Hearthstone set in the pommel of his sword was already funneling essence back into his body.

“Are you alright?” Marette asked from just behind him.  He had not been aware of her presence, and turned to face her.

“Fine.  It just took a lot out of me.”

“I can feel it.” She looked around in wonder.  “I feel like we can defeat anything.”

“Good, then it was worth it.” He smiled at her. “Marette, if I fall here…I just wanted you to know that I care deeply for you.”

“I know Drevin.  I feel the same.” She stepped close to him, and he enjoyed her closeness for a moment before forcing himself to push her away.

“Drevin, its very important that you keep me close in the coming battle.”

“Why?  That will be the most dangerous place.”

“I think that I have mastered Celene’s staff.  I can protect you and the men from their spells.”

“Very well.  Hamil!” he yelled, and the man appeared moments later.

“Command me, Chosen.”

“I want you to appoint fifty men to defending Marette in the coming battle.”

“It shall be done, Chosen.”

“Drevin, look!” she pointed behind him.  He turned, and what he saw raised his spirits.  Andrani emerged from the fort, and at his back were nearly five hundred troops.  Only a few appeared to have been left behind to guard the walls, and the rest were coming to his aid.  Perhaps they had a chance after all.

“Hamil, send a runner to meet the Colonel.  Tell him that I have a special task for him.”

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

 

The time had come at last.  General Tarkene watched his troops fan out in formation, and felt a swell of pride.  Before them lay a hodge-podge collection of native warriors, and he knew that they would fall easily.  Behind them was the true target, and it didn’t surprise him that Andrani was hiding.  Perhaps he thought that the natives would give him time to run, but if so they were mistaken.

“The Legion will advance at a trot.” His voice rang out.

His men accelerated their pace, and the archers circled north to flank their foes.  If the natives turned to face them, then his legion would crush them.  If they faced the legion, then the archers would decimate them.  Either way they would fall before him.

“Captain Arjot, have you gathered the men that I asked for?” he turned to one of his junior officers.

“Yes sir, shall I bring them now?”

“Yes, tell them that I want to speak to them.” He had concocted a plan to deal with the Anathema, and it was time to implement it.  Within a few moments the men that he had asked for were gathered.  They all had two things in common.  Each was Dragon-Blooded, and each had served at one time or another in the Wyld Hunt.

“You all understand that we have come here to find and kill the Anathema that slaughtered students at the House of Bells.  In his cowardess he killed children, but ran when trained soldiers arrived.  Now he will be able to run no longer.

“You will hunt him.  All of you.  Find him on the field of battle, and kill him.  Once he has fallen his misguided followers will scatter like so many leaves.”

He turned without waiting for a response, and the eight hunters loped off towards the battle.  He had no doubt that they would find the Anathema, and would almost certainly kill him.  If not, then he would find the weakened Solar and finish the deed himself.

Looking up he could see that his men were within fifty yards of the enemy.  Much to his surprise they didn’t break and run.  Quite the opposite, they gave a mighty yell and charged the legion’s front rank.  Behind them he could see Andrani’s Dragon moving toward his archers.

Were they mad?  They were outnumbered at least four to one, and they were splitting their forces.  Andrani would no doubt slaughter his archers, but in that time the fool’s allies would be decimated.

General Cathak Tarkene drew his jade Daiklaive, and flared his essence.  Angry red flames surrounded him, and he stepped forth to do battle.

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

 

Drevin delivered a vicious swipe with Kyo-Jun that took off a soldier’s right leg.  The man fell screaming to the ground, and another took his place.  He slammed his shield into the man’s face and heard bone crunch.  The white flames of Kyo-Jun augmented his anima, and his foes ran from his terrifying visage.  The ranks behind them prevented their escape, and he cut them down before they could get away.

Before he knew it he had cut a swathe deep into the enemy, and had left his own ranks behind.  Men in imperial uniforms surrounded him, and he cut down all that came within reach of his Daiklaive.  They died by the score, and eventually his troops caught up with him.  He saw Marette surrounded by a tight phalanx of troops, and watched as she dissipated spells directed at the men around her.

Then the tide of battle swept between them, and he was surrounded once more.  This time he spied an air aspect making for him.  The man wore bright blue jade, and leapt nimbly into the air above him.  He came own with his blade braced against one leg, and Drevin had no doubt that it would have killed him had it connected.  Instead be blocked it with his shield, and caught the man through the neck with his Daiklaive.  He flung the still warm corpse to the ground, and continued his march of death.

Hours seemed to pass, and the sun was climbing steadily higher into the sky.  It was difficult to tell how the battle was going, but from what he could see his men were giving as good as they got.  Many had fallen, but it only seemed to spur the others to fight all the harder.  Whether it was the Horn of the Dawn or simply the idea of killing men that had once been companions the 11^th legion fought half-heartedly.

Drevin pivoted smoothly, and bisected an arrow that had been meant for his head.  He scanned for a moment, and saw the archer that had fired it.  Sure enough the man was another air aspect.  The press of troops began to lessen around him, and suddenly there was a large open space around him.  He moved carefully to avoid the corpses littering the area, and assumed a combat stance.  More and more Dragon-Blooded emerged from the enemy ranks until eight of them stood in a line before him.

“Your time is over, Anathema.” One of them called.  They began moving outward in a rough circle, and he knew that they meant to encircle him.  Wolves sent to bring down the lion.  So be it.  He would not fall without a fight.    

With a great roar he launched himself at the fire aspect furthest to his right.  He invoked the Iron Whirlwind, and his blade was in five places at once.  He severed the man’s right arm, and then dropped his opponent with a chop to his neck.  The remainder of his foes charged en masse, and he fell back before their combined fury.  It was all he could do to keep his feet, and he lost count of the blows that he blocked.

He felt a stabbing pain from behind, and knew that an arrow had lodged in his back.  He brought Kyo-Jun up to block an earth aspect’s Daiklaive, and was left open as another foe delivered a spinning kick to his head.  Pain exploded, and he stumbled back.

Rage filled him, and his anima exploded into a column of flame.  These fools were meant to serve, and they would pay for their temerity.  His left leg scythed out, and tripped the man who had kicked him.  His unexpected move caught his foe off guard, and it left him open as Drevin plunged his blade through the man’s chest.

The air aspect released a rain of arrows at him, and he raised the corpse of his dead foe to block them.  He could feel the impact as they ripped into the dead Dragon-Blood, and when they stopped he flung the corpse at the earth aspect.  It impeded the man long enough for Drevin to spin away, and he used to the time to assess the situation.

Two of his foes were dead, but six were very much alive.

He channeled his essence once again, and charged back into combat.  This time he went for the archer, and managed to close with him before any of his brethren could stop the enraged Solar.  Fear was visible on the air aspect’s face, and the man brought his power bow up to block Kyo-Jun.  The Orichalum blade shattered the jade bow, and carried through into his target’s chest.  A bright spray of blood drenched his golden armor, and Drevin yanked his blade free.

Before he could turn the others were on him, and he took the defensive once again.  He was tiring quickly, and knew that eventually they would bring him down.  He couldn’t block all their blows.

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

 

The press of battle around Andrani thinned, and he was able to take a moment to catch his breath.  Ryokai stood panting not far away, and he waved his subordinate over.  Most of his men were still standing, and the few remaining archers had been put to route.  Taking a look at the larger battle he saw that Drevin’s force was not faring well.  A large number of the 11^th legion had been wiped out, but there were simply too many of them.

Here and there he could see the colorful animas of Dragon-Blooded combatants.  There were far more of them on the legion’s side then on Drevin’s.  Everywhere they passed soldiers fell, and he knew of only one way to counter them.

“Major, let’s see what we can do to help.  Advance the Dragon.” He ordered.

“Alright, men.  Drevin has kept them at bay.  Now lets finish them off!” Ryokai yelled.  The men answered with a cry, and they set off at a trot towards the battle.  It took a few minutes for them to reach their foes, and even during that short time they could see the tide turning against them.  Then the crush of battle swallowed them, and they could do nothing but try to stay alive.

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

 

Marette fought desperately to reach Drevin.  Many of the men around her had died, and her will had been sapped trying to defend them from enemy sorcerers.  Celene’s staff had proven its worth over and over, and she had killed more than one foe by reflecting his own spell back at him.  But no matter how many fell before them there still seemed to be an endless number.

Drevin was only forty yards ahead of her, but it may as well have been miles.  She had ordered her escort to reach him, but their assault broke like a wave on the troops standing before them.  She caught a glimpse of Drevin falling to the ground, and gave a cry of despair.

“Step aside!” she called.  The men in front of her broke ranks, and she channeled the essence within her.  She cast the only combat spell that she knew, and felt the last of her will ebb as she did so.  The air was suddenly filled with razor sharp obsidian butterflies.  They scythed into the enemy troops, and over three score of the tightly packed soldiers fell in a shower of blood.

As she sank to her knees in exhaustion her escort surged forward, and widened the gap in the enemy.  Within moments they reached Drevin, and she stumbled to her feet.  They were too late.  She watched as one of three remaining Dragon-Blooded plunged his blade into Drevin’s leg.  The Solar tried to roll away to gain space, but his foes gave him no such luxury.  Again and again they struck him, but the bloodied Exalt would not fall.

Then, without warning, a roar shook the battlefield.  From behind the 11^th legion she heard cries of panic, and of pain.  For a moment she wondered what was going on, and then saw a soldier fall to the ground under the weight of a large feline.  Syran had come, and he had brought an army of great cats with him.

She looked back at Drevin, and saw him take advantage of the momentary surprise brought by the Avatar’s arrival.  He jabbed his blade up at the last remaining fire aspect from his place on the ground.  The blade caught his foe between the legs, and lifted him into the air.  The gravely wounded Dragon-Blood fell with a cry of agony, and Drevin rolled to his feet.

Only two of his foes remained, but they kept after him with dogged persistence.  One harried him from the front, and the other was careful to stay behind the wounded Solar.  The wood aspect in front launched a blow, and his companion waited for Drevin to commit to a block before attacking himself.  He brought a jade tipped spear up under the Solar’s armor, and she felt as it had pierced her as it sank into Drevin.

He gave a cry like a wounded beast, but did not fall.  Instead he brought his right elbow back in a strike on his assailant.  It hit the man’s neck with intense force, and even from this distance she heard the sound of his larynx being crushed.

The last Dragon-Blood brought his Daiklaive down in an overhead strike, and it crashed down into Drevin’s shield arm in a spray of blood.  With his strength obviously failing Drevin plunged his own blade through his last foe.  Kyo-Jun erupted from the man’s back, and then both combatants fell.

Marette rushed to Drevin’s side, and looked at his wounds in horror.  She wasn’t sure whether he would live or die, and didn’t have the strength to help him.  Too much of her will had been sapped.  She sank to her knees beside him, and let the tears come.

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

 

Everything was a haze.  Pain, anger, sadness and the tides of memory swirled through his head.  He was Telrin, the anointed of the Sun.  Yet he knew that there was more to him.  He had another name, but he couldn’t remember it.  He thought that he might be dying, but he had no way to tell.  Was he finished with the task that the Unconquered Sun had appointed him?  No, he didn’t think so.  He couldn’t die yet.  He had too much to do.

Drevin’s eyes snapped open.  Marette was crouched over him, and her tears streamed unabashedly down her face.  She had never looked more beautiful, and he thanked the Unconquered Sun that he had met her.

“Marette.” He whispered.  Ripples of pain washed through him when he tried to move. 

“Drevin?” she asked hesitantly.

“Have…have we won?” he asked weakly.

“Not yet.” A male voice answered, and he turned his head to see who it was.  A few yards away General Tarkene stood triumphantly.  His anima blazed around him like an inferno, and little puffs of smoke came from his mouth as he laughed.

“The very beasts fight for you, but it doesn’t matter.  You may have beaten my troops, but you will not live to gloat.”

“I won’t let you harm him.” Marette stood over him protectively.  She drew the rapier that she had been training with, and he reached out a trembling hand to stop her.  If she tried to save him, then Tarkene would cut her down.

“Ah, but how will you stop me?” he leapt forward, and with one quick strike sent Marette’s blade spinning away.  She tried to attack him with her bare hands, but he knocked her to the ground with a powerful backhand.

“Now it ends, monster.  Know that after your woman watches you die I will kill her slowly.” The general reversed his Daiklaive, and raised it above Drevin’s heart.  It seemed to descend in slow motion, and he felt the tip sink into his chest.  Something huge bowled into Tarkene from behind.  He heard crunching, and the General gave one agonized scream.

“A life for a life.  My debt to you is repaid, Solar.” A familiar voice told him.  It was deep and powerful, and he wondered where he knew it from.  Then welcoming darkness closed over him, and he knew no more.

 

 

 

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

 

 

 

           

 

Drevin awoke to the feel of sunlight on his face.  He looked around him and saw that he was lying in bed.  The room was unfamiliar, but the sounds outside were not.  He could hear troops drilling, and he knew the voice giving the commands.  Major Ryokai.  He pulled himself out of bed, and staggered to his feet.  Even after the fight with Maladrieve he had not felt quite this horrid.

He pulled on the rough cotton shirt and breeches that had been left for him, and lurched towards the door.  Outside he saw the ranks of men standing at attention.  Their uniforms were very similar to those of the Realm, but he noticed an immediate difference.  Their tabards were emblazoned with an attacking lion.

“First Dragon, Salute!” Ryokai barked, and the men raised a single glove to their hearts in salute.  Salute to him, he realized after a moment.

He looked about him in confusion, and saw Colonel Andrani approaching him from across the courtyard.

“Drevin, you’re up!  I didn’t expect to see you on your feet for days.” He called in a friendly voice.

“What happened?”

“You must be starved.  Shall we discuss matters over lunch?” Andrani offered.

“Of course.  Where’s Marette?”

“Waiting for you, actually.” Drevin was escorted to a wide hall that obviously served as a mess.  The timber walls were freshly cut, and it had probably been built in the last few days.  Inside he saw Marette sitting with Hamil, and another woman at a table.  It took him a moment to recognize her, and he couldn’t help but grin when he did.  It was Emirile.  He hobbled over to the table with Andrani, and they took seats with the others.

“So, will somebody tell me what happened?”

“What’s the last thing that you remember?” Emirile asked.

“I remember fighting for my life against more than a few Terrestrials.” He offered.

“Well, I guess I can fill you in.  We were losing to the 11^th legion.  Then hundreds of lions showed up.  They took Tarkene by surprise, and turned the tide in our favor.  I don’t know where you called them from, but we would have lost without them.” Andrani explained.

“What happened to Tarkene?”

“Syran killed him.  Just before he tried to kill you.” Marette took up the story. “He said something about the debt between you being paid, and then he left.”

“That explains a great deal.  So we won.” Drevin said in wonder.  He hadn’t expected victory, and it tasted good.

“How long have I been unconscious?” he asked.

“About three days.” Andrani told him. “In that time we have gathered the survivors, and begun building the first legion.”

“First legion?” Drevin asked.

“The first legion of the New Realm.” The Colonel elaborated.

“The New Realm?” he asked incredulously.

“Just as the Solars of the first age led the Old Realm we’d like you to lead the new one.” Marette said.

It was a great deal to take in.  Despite all the odds he had stayed alive, and had led his followers here.  He doubted that the Realm could afford to send more troops after him, and if he was very lucky they didn’t even know what had become of the 11^th legion.

Building a New Realm was going to be harder than anything that he had ever done, but with people like these to help him he knew that it could be done.  Many challenges awaited him, but he would overcome them as he had overcome those that had come before.

 

 

 

End Book One