The Ghouls poured forwards in a seething tide, great clumps of discolored and misshapen flesh hissing, clawing, and biting towards the steadfast line of Wood Aelves. Feinour whirled about, raising his ancient spear aloft as he roared, “hold firm! For Avelorn!”
“For Avelorn!” The cry was echoed a hundred-fold across the rippling green battle line, the chant of ranks upon ranks of Eternal Guard briefly drowning out the screaming madness descending upon them. If only for a moment. Turning to face their foe once more, the Nomad Prince planted his shield firmly alongside his kin. The cracked wood slamming into the ground as the line braced with him. “Hold, hold…” He could see the vile beasts even clearer now, their bloodied hands still holding strips of meat, gnashing jaws salivating at the prospect of the violence to come. “Hold!” The Flesh Eaters were coming closer, closer, the Aelf saw the whites of their eyes as they scampered scant meters away. Suddenly, the beasts leaped bodily at the makeshift wall, a flood of pallid mass about to break upon their oaken green. It was time. “Now!” His order sounded, and suddenly, a score of spear tips arose from behind the shield wall in an instant, impaling hundreds of the enemy in the space it took to blink. Yet a hundred more clawed their way over dead comrades, the wall buckled slightly under the immense strain, but for now, it held. “Brace! By Alarielle’s will!” Feinour’s words once more echoed down the line, although notably fewer throats responded than before. He cursed silently as he struck down a shrieking Ghoul, the wretched creature falling to the dust as two more of its hissing kin took its place. “Damnit, Aleya where ARE you?” The Watch Sisters had yet to make their ambush, outflanking the massive enemy force was no easy task he knew, but if they were going to show, it would need to happen soon.
A deafening roar threw the Aelf out of thought, whipping his head up, green eyes narrowed as he homed in on the sound’s origin. He cursed in alarm; hulking Crypt Horrors barreled their way towards the Aelves position. Such was the speed and size of these creatures they pushed through their own comrades in an insane battle lust, bodily hurling Ghouls into the air or trampling them under blood-stained hooves. Feinour was already moving as they approached, “to me warriors of Avelorn! Strong as the oak!” In an instant his Eternal Guard obeyed, each fell back in perfect order, drawing around in a tight circular formation, shields and spears facing outwards in a fortress of boughs. The enemy overcommitted in a split instance, just as planned. As the Aelves retreated, arrows began to rain down all around their position, white fletched bolts finding their mark, such was the enemy’s mass it was almost impossible to miss. Ghouls were felled by the score as hidden units of Shadow Warriors, at last, made their presence known. Yet despite their tactical cunning, it did not deter the Horrors, arrows flew down like hail, but it was like drops in an ocean, the mordants merely shrugged off the copious wounds, pace not slowing for a moment. Within seconds the bloated horrors were among them, and chaos ensued. Feinour watched in horror as his fellow Aelves were thrown skywards, bodies tumbling to the floor like broken toys only to be devoured screaming by the numberless horde. The line buckled once more in desperation. “Hold fast! Ho-” the Nomad Prince never finished his sentence as a blow caught the side of his head. He felt the rush of air as he was thrown, weightless for blissful seconds. The ground welcoming him not a moment later. He gasped in pain; his hand reflexively crumpled around his waist as the landing hit hard. Darkness seeped into the corners of his vision all too soon, he tasted blood in his mouth. It was metal and bitter.
Weakly he glared at his coming demise in burning defiance, a Crypt Horror savagely filling his vision in all its gore-soaked terror. The thing raised a claw-like hand, and Feinour prepared to at last give in to the inevitable. But it never came. A thundering crack like splintered bark filled his ears, and a roar of pain elicited from the Flesh Eater as it staggered backward. He glanced sidelong as he was hauled to his feet on unsteady legs, his comrades had rallied, but how? Seeing the mighty Kurnothi lumber past immediately answered that question, he watched in amazement as the Horror about to end his life not a moment ago now fell to the dirt as a great oaken limb crashed into its head. All around them, the Kurnoth Hunters moved in, massive frames dwarfing the Aelves as they cleaned through the foe like a scythe through wheat. Arcane Greatbows fired, again and again, each titanic bolt slicing through hundreds of Ghouls at once in apocalyptic fury. Even after having fought shoulder to shoulder with their Great Protectors many times before, seeing them in pure combat never failed to make Feinour stand dumbfounded in awe.
“You aren’t going to stand there all day, are you?” A familiar figure by his side snapped him away from the spectacle as rows of Eternal Guard streamed past them into the fray, each emboldened by the arrival of their woodland allies. Mara stood alongside him, smiling as her oaken staff twinkled with radiant energies.
He laughed in delight despite his pain, “Mara! By Alarielle where have you been?”
She gave another grin as she tapped her staff, green energies beginning to swirl around the two in mystical displays, sweeping over his broken form like dancing fireflies. As the light enveloped him, Feinour felt reinvigorated, a surge of strength filling his tired limbs as Mara’s life magic did its miraculous work. “I thought you needed some help on the front line, but if you prefer, I could leave you here?” She managed a small smile at her light jest, which he pleasantly returned. “Speaking of help…” the Spellweaver nodded to the distant rise.
The prince followed her faraway gaze, his attention pulling towards the ambush site, green eyes lighting up in delight as he saw what Mara was pointing him to. All along the rise flaming blue arrows lit up the sky, such was their number it was like a false dawn had broken upon the field of battle. Feinour afforded himself a smile, “better late than never, Aleya.” As he watched, the Ghouls fell into disarray at the sudden attack, the flaming light of Sigendil burning them hotter than any fire ever could, they shrieked and pawed at the ground in horrific agony as countless arrows rained down. But it was too late, like the fury of the stars themselves, the Watch Sisters appeared on the flank, firing and advancing as they did so. Each shot was pinpoint accurate, and Horrors and Ghouls alike were laid low in their multitudes. “Forward warriors of Avelorn, show them your fury! Let them taste only wrath and ruin!” Feinour shook his bloodied weapon to the sky, and Avelorn roared with him, Sylvaneth and Aelf alike charged forwards with renewed vigor, Eternal Guard slammed their shields into the monsters that threatened their home, Kurnoth Hunters smote left and right with the force of an earthquake such was their size and strength. All around him, the battle was joined, and countless heroes fought and struggled. Mara threw her staff downwards alongside her kin, Alarielle’s light shining true all around as twisting vines ensnared shrieking Ghouls, their limbs crumpling and cracking before the raw power of nature made manifest. Watch Sisters now lay about the enemies ranks, timing each blow with their Kurnoth allies as bows crackled with arcane energy; firing point-blank faster than they drew breath. Through the chaos, Feinour made out Aleya and Tash fighting side by side, the two Aelves covering each other with cold fury as their swords rang clear as day in the carnage all around them. Even over the din he could hear how attuned they were to each other.
“On your right, Tash!”
“More coming in, Aleya strike well!”
To the Prince’s eyes, it was like watching a graceful dance, the two twirled and pirouetted over and around each other, cutting heads from necks and limbs from bodies amid gouts of black bile. Within moments the Watch Sisters had carved a path right to him, and at last Avelorn’s full force surrounded their foe in its entirety. The Flesh Eaters destruction was now all but assured.
****
Mara rested weakly on her staff; lithe form slumped on a small, upturned tree as she surveyed her ravaged surroundings. Already the dead were being buried, the task was a macabre one, as it always was. All around her, Avelorn’s people mourned the fallen, small oaths of prayer, whispered words of vengeance, silent crying. It was the way of war; aftermaths were never pretty things. But still, this was a great victory, to best a Flesh Eater Court was no easy feat, and there would be much rejoicing in the days to come. The sound of footsteps caused her to lift her head sharply, her hand gripped her staff a little tighter, yet upon seeing the familiar face of Feinour, it eased a little. He sat beside her quietly, green cloak rippling outwards, the company was not unwelcome. The two sat in silence for a while, Mara knew what that meant, her companion was thinking, looking for advice on some matter. At last, he broke the silence, “Will this ever end, Mara?” She sighed. The question was not new, it was one the sorrowful Aelf had asked many times.
“Feinour, peace requires just as much strength as war.” She turned to face him, noting his eyes, he had been crying. “We mourn, we lose, we love.” She took his hand as she spoke, “war is an ugly, violent thing, but it is a necessary evil, it will ensure peace in the end.” He did not respond, the Spellweaver continued unabated, “without you here today, this victory, however hollow it may feel now, would surely have ended in greater calamity.”
At this, he smiled, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, “ah but I have you to thank for that.” She laughed, breath catching hard in exhaustion as she gripped her staff harder for support. She felt drained. Feinour narrowed his eyes in concern and put a supportive arm over her shoulder, causing Mara to blush slightly. The Nomad Prince didn’t usually show such close affection. Yet before anything more could happen, the two were interrupted by a loud whoop. They jumped, regaining composure in an instant, Mara felt Feinour’s hand slip from hers suddenly as he rose a little too quickly. Almost immediately she missed its touch. The Aelf shook the thought hastily, she glanced upwards, following her prince’s stare; seeing Tash and Aleya were pacing towards them briskly. Judging by Tash’s overall sunny disposition, and Aleya’s withering stare at her friend, the Spellweaver immediately knew where the excited squeal came from. Aleya was as resolute looking as ever, even the way she walked gave an icy demeanor to her appearance.
“My prince.” Aleya clasped Feinour’s arm in bonding, as was customary when speaking to Noble Kindred.
“Watch Captain.” Feinour gladly returned her greeting, albeit more stiffly, Mara smiled slightly, seemed even Aleya made him nervous. The two figures parted as Aleya began her report.
“The foe is bested my prince, meeting their end upon our flaming wrath, I can safely report no stragglers survived, Avelorn endures once more.”
“As it always will, cousin, excellent work. Tend to the wounded, and make sure the Kurnothi are well taken care of.”
Aleya stiffened slightly at the last order as if hesitating a retort but wisely chose against it. “Light of Avelorn be with you my prince, it will be done.”
Feinour smiled a bemused smile, “Light of Avelorn be with you too, Aleya.” And as quickly as it had come their interaction was over, ceremony passed, and tradition honored. They clasped forearms once more in farewell, and Feinour swiftly took his leave of absence. He would have a long day ahead of him yet. He passed Mara as he turned to walk away, giving a small smile to her youthful features, once again, she blushed slightly at the gesture. Tash seemed to notice, giggling behind her hand, causing Aleya to shoot her a piercing glare once again.
Mara waited till Feinour was just out of earshot before turning to the two, fixing them with a cold look, “something to share, Tash?” The Watch Sister’s smiling immediately stopped upon seeing the Spellweaver’s now stony expression.
“N-no High Oracle, it’s nothing.”
Mara nodded towards them both, “if you don’t mind sister’s, I must take my leave as well, many events have been set in motion from this conflict, many more futures must now be discerned.” the Watch Sisters crossed their arms upon their chest and bowed, their wordless response more than enough to show their respect. Mara rotated away from the two, walking deliberately slowly, her long ear twitched to get a word of what she knew they were saying.
“I’m telling you, Aleya, they totally like each other! What do you think?”
“Tash! Do you have any idea how inappropriate it is to behave like that around the High Oracle?”
“You didn’t answer my question though, sooo do you think he likes her back?”
“I-wha, how do you even know she likes him?”
“Call it good instincts.”
“Remind me again why I like you, Tash.”
“Because of my great taste in moody Aelves?
“I hate you…”
Mara moved faster now, their voices slowly fading into the distance, she knew they’d be at it for a while longer. She knitted her eyebrows in consternation, Feinour was indeed very special too her, they were right about that. She recollected her vision from those long nights ago, the song that had appeared in her mind’s eye in fevers and dreams.
A Wanderer in robes of green shall light the way,
Avelorn’s future will be as it may,
A great tree will stand forever tall,
Yet to ensure our survival, the prince must fall.
Mara’s smile had disappeared as the troubling words played around and around in her head. Her smile didn’t return for a long while…
