Battle Baptism

The horns blared across the fortress, piercing like frozen shards through the night. From the gate tower, Akari saw the storm beyond the walls boiling with shapes that writhed and shambled in the snow. The corrupted spirits had come.

Her paws trembled on the frozen stone of the battlements. Fire flickered along her fur in anxious sparks, and for the first time since becoming a fire fox, she could feel the bite of the cold beneath her pads. Smells crowded her senses: iron, smoke, the musk of sweat and fear from the rookies lining up beside her. She had never noticed these things as a flame. Now everything pressed against her - loud, raw, and overwhelming.

“Noel,” she whispered, her tail puffed up.

Noel placed her on his shoulder, wand braced against the battlement. His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed the same tension that gripped the air. “Stay with me, Akari. We’re at the rear tonight. Sir Caldris is here too. We are not alone.”

Caldris, wrapped in his mage’s cloak, gave her a grin that didn’t quite mask his seriousness. “Rear line’s important, little fox. Without us, the front burns out fast. So breathe deep, and let’s show these spirits what fire feels like!”

…

The battle began with a roar. Veterans surged forward to the wall’s edge, blades and spells crashing against the corrupted forms that hurled themselves out of the blizzard. The rookies - younger or barely older than Noel - moved stiffly, shields trembling, until the veterans barked orders and dragged them into formation.

Akari followed everything that she learned in training. It distracted her from the reality of the situation, to treat it as much of a game as possible. She lit the darkness, streams of flame arcing from instinctual power from inside. The fire seared the nearest spirits, their broken shapes shrieking as they twisted into smoke. Each burst snarling wild and hot. Her aim slipped, a gout of fire scorching too close to a young mage named Lysandra, who squeaked and nearly dropped her staff.

“Focus!” Barkley’s voice rang from the walls above. The great hound bounded along the parapet, an amber glow surrounding his form. “Don’t waste your strength! Aim for their cores. Accuracy over power!”

Akari steadied herself, her little fox heart pounding. She forced her flames into a narrow beam, striking true this time. A corrupted spirit collapsed into ash with a shrill wail. Relief surged through her - but it twisted quickly into nausea as the stench of charred rot filled her nose. She gagged, almost slipping from Noel's back.

“Akari!” Noel steadied her, one hand pressed to her side. “Are you hurt?”

“I…” Her eyes stung, her throat burned with bile. “I can smell them. All of it. I never… I never felt this before.”

Noel’s expression softened. “It’s your first real battle. Just breathe. You’re not alone.”

The fight raged on. The corrupted slammed against the walls, shrieking as steel and magic cut them down. Seren’s voice cut through the din, crisp and commanding, directing the front lines with precision. Veterans like Branek, a broad-shouldered soldier with a scar down his cheek, held the line with practiced ease, shielding his men from fatal blows. Priests stood just behind them, chanting prayers that steadied the hearts of men and bound wounds with a soft green glow. Among them was a young priest, Ansel, whose nervous hands still shone with determination as he rushed from one injured knight to the next.

Akari and Noel poured their magic into the fight from the rear. Noel’s chants wove through the roar of combat, his wand blazing as Akari’s flames twined with his spells. Together they drove back spirit after spirit, their bond pulling their magic into sharper focus. Still, every strike left Akari trembling. Her body screamed at the smells, the sounds, the sight of twisted faces in the storm.

Caldris shouted encouragement, fireballs cracking from his ornate staff. “Good hit, Akari! Keep it steady! Noel, left flank - now!”

They obeyed, a blast of fire from both of them incinerating a spirit that had nearly slipped through the cracks. Akari’s fur bristled, her lungs burned, and still the battle pressed on.

…

At last, the tide began to falter. The corrupted thinned, their shrieks scattering back into the storm from which they came. The gates held. The walls stood. The fortress endured another day.

Silence fell heavy, broken only by the rasp of exhausted breaths. Snow settled once more, covering the remnants of magic that clung to the stones.

Akari slumped to her paws, her flames dim. Around her, rookies leaned against the wall, pale and shaken. Lysandra clutched her staff to her chest, eyes wide with the horror of what they’d just faced. Ansel knelt beside a wounded knight, his lips still moving in whispered prayer though his voice cracked. Branek stood tall, bloodied but firm, offering a hand to pull a trembling comrade to his feet.

Noel sank down beside Akari, placing her across his knees. “No one died today...” he murmured, though his eyes searched the battlefield with lingering unease.

Seren strode along the wall, his expression unreadable. He looked over the troops, at the shaken rookies, the calm veterans, then at Akari and Noel. At last, he spoke, voice low but carrying. “No one fell tonight.” A breath of relief rippled through the line. But then he added, “Remember this well, rookies. That was an easy wave.”

The veterans nodded grimly, understanding the weight behind his words. Branek muttered under his breath, “If that’s easy, the hard ones will break bones.” Ansel’s hands faltered in his healing spell, his lips tightening. Lysandra bit down on her trembling lip, eyes darting to the shadowed storm as if more horrors might burst from it.

Akari’s chest tightened.

Easy.

Her stomach still churned with the smell of rot, her fur still prickled with the memory of screams. If this was easy, she dreaded what lay ahead.

Noel glanced toward the rookies and then at Akari, speaking softly so only she could hear. “We will have to grow stronger. For them and for us. But remember Akari, if you cannot do this anymore, let us know.”

Akari lowered her head against his arm, her fire flickering low but steady. In the silence after the storm, she realized tonight had been more than her first battle. It marked the threshold of countless battles yet to come, and she and Noel had only just taken their first step across it.