Springing the Trap

Simon had been successful. Or rather, he'd nearly been successful. He had been right about the time it would take him to increase the size, and had also been right about the difficulty of closing it off on one side. In fact, he'd even managed to cut away parts of the portal like Gideon had suggested, having to channel his magic to hold them closed. The problem arose with exactly how he had to cast it to do that.

The plan had been for him to cast the spell from next to the rooms, allotting the three of them as the targets, himself out of their range. He wouldn't be able to do that. On the last day, in a desperate attempt to push him past the finish line, Gideon had suggested it would be easier to cut away parts of the portal if Simon himself was inside it. The idea claimed that he would be easier able to determine the dimensions and positions of everything inside of it if he used himself as an anchor point to work from.

Naturally, as all of Gideon's other ideas, it worked perfectly. Apart from one very obvious thing. Simon himself would be inside the portal. Of course, he'd ensure to cut the portal around him, leaving him ground to stand on, but it would prove fundamentally dangerous. If he were to make a mistake, he would find himself transported through to the site of the explosion, and not having mastered teleportation enough to get away, the consequences of that were apparent.

Essentially, it would be a drastic understatement to call the plan risky. Nonetheless, Simon was determined to carry it out, he wasn't willing to risk the whole plan just because he was in a bit of danger now. Sonia and Gideon had both been reluctant when he'd told them the situation, but after wilful words and surprisingly comforting support from Orion, they had agreed.

That was how Simon now found himself alone deep underground, inside the central of the three rooms, his only company the light of a lonely torch behind him and a pungent smell of gunpowder so strong that he could taste it on his tongue. He was crouched and ready, waiting anxiously for the signal that the battle had begun.

The fields before Sordilar were painted black. The force before them massed together, waves of movement spreading from corner to corner. Sonia estimated there were at least two thousand. Two thousand men would hardly have been a threatening number had they been normal soldiers. Yet every single person arranged on that field was a priest, many were Clerics or Bishops and two Archbishops headed it all.

They were large figures on their even larger horses. Both must have approached seven feet tall, they stood heads higher than their Varokian brethren, towering even larger over the average man. Their horses were similarly large in comparison, warhorses bred for war for well over a century, and only further enhanced by Varokian magics. Sonia was thankful the Varokians had come expecting a siege, many of their men were unhorsed, fighting as infantry today. Ernhar had not been lying about the power of a Varokian horde's cavalry charge. There was little that could stand before it.

While the Varokians were invaders, they still obeyed certain rules of war. The horde was not merely standing there for ceremony, they were offering a final chance at surrender, awaiting the immediate opening of the gates. Sonia chafed at the offer. They were outnumbered but not by such a degree that this could be seen as anything but an insult.

If the army had just gotten closer to the walls, she would have been able to signal Simon before the fighting even began, be able to keep all of her men alive. Instead many would die today, crushed beneath their opponents weight.

Gideon, Thea, and Orion were gathered beside her on the battlements, all conducting their final assessment of the forces, and all heavily armoured, ready to fight.

"Those two, the Archbishops at the front, you see them? Their names're Aktosh and Veseira, married. They're not like Ernhar, both've been priests for a long time. Think I overheard some of the Varokians say they've been fighting for thirty years. They'll be tough Sonia, can't hold back against them if it comes to it."

"I wasn't planning on repeating the mistake, thank you Thea. Gideon, are you ready to send the signal?"

"Delightfully so. How I do wish I could watch the moment of Simon's victory myself though. Well, what can you do?"

"I'm ready to fire the ignition too, whenever you need it, they'll be burning before they even know it." Thea chimed in, evidently trying to make up for her earlier offense.

"Good, I trust the wind today won't prove a problem to your aim?"

"Not a one. Never had to aim anyway. You know that." Thea plucked at her bowstring for emphasis.

"Good. Orion and I will be joining our forces on the field now. Remember, send the signal the moment the battle is joined."

"Got it, got it. Trust me, I wouldn't miss it for anything, not after how much work I had to do. Good luck down there, you too Hallsteel."

"You best pray I die in the battle boy, you won't be getting away with calling me that this time." Orion replied.

"You'll forget it by battle's end anyway old man, your memory's not quite what it used to be I'm sad to say. Oh, how the mighty fall."

"Let's double that beating I was gonna give you. Wouldn't be right otherwise."

"You guys really like each other huh? Quipping at a time like this." Thea interjected in to the entertaining conflict.

"I'm afraid you don't have any more time for jokes. The Archbishops are leaving. With me, Orion." Sonia disappeared through a tear in space, Orion following shortly thereafter.

Sonia landed at the head of her forces. Around five hundred of them had gathered in the fields, every single cleric that the Order had to offer, all having trained tirelessly for weeks to be ready. Yarik and Gren flanked her, serving as her most experienced fighters among them. Orion arrived a distance away, shepherding his own branch of the forces.

The wind was strong today, light rain dancing in the air as it was caught in its currents, the sun was blotted out by cloud. The weather fit the atmosphere perfectly, Sonia thought.

This time the Varokians were not announced by thunder but by the hail of a thousand stones as they began their march. Their lack of horses did little to still the rumbling of the earth. They conquered the horizon like the sea at night, a tide of death slowly walking toward them.

Sonia breathed deep and readied her weapon, the soldiers behind her did the same. Sonia thought she could faintly see the figure of one of the Archbishops up ahead, leading the vanguard into battle. The other had likely gone to one of the flanks, ready to tear a path into their forces from the side.

The Varokians increased in pace as they approached. What once started as a walk quickly morphed into a jog, and then into a sprint. They began to roar as their speed reached its maximum, their voices shaking the air just as their footsteps shook the earth.

The vision was a terror, a roaring horde that would shatter the earth itself. Her men stood their ground to the last, their formation unbroken. They were brave men to the last and she was proud to lead them.

The Varokian forces hit, and many of those brave men died.

Simon waited nervously, his entire body shaking with adrenaline. A deep grumbling was coming from above his head, he knew what that sound meant. People were dying above him, they were waiting for him to save them. Every muscle in his body urged him to act already, Gideon's signal be damned, the faster he begun then the faster the battle would end. The faster he could save them. Every single person up there had put their lives in his hands, and every time one fell, he had let them down.

He tried to still his breathing. It would be better if he started the spell as relaxed as possible. Getting in ahead of the signal would allow him to save that second of time that could mean someone's life. That second of time that could mean Orion's life, Gideon's life. Sonia's life. He breathed slowly in, and slowly out, refusing to follow his body's instinctual desire to breath for more air. His heart beat loudly in his chest and ears, this was far from the ideal situation to cast a spell within, but he would have to. He wouldn't let the doubt cloud his mind. He would cast the spell, and he would succeed, and he would do it fast.

He breathed in again and the world tore beside him. Gideon appeared from nothingness. He didn't waste time, nodding his head grimly as he matched eyes with Simon. "Cast the spell."

And so Simon did. Gideon was forced to teleport away, his chances of being caught in the portal too great.

Simon breathed in once then stopped. He let himself grow stagnant not only in mind but in body. His heart slowed and his eyes drew closed. He imagined the idea of his command, but instead of clearing his mind he forced into it an image. The portal in his head was an ellipse, himself anchored at its bottom. It spread from him outwards, capturing everything before him in its grasp. The image was not a guide, but rather the command itself. He was forcing the world to accept his vision, to become as he demanded. The ellipse was complete, but now he would have to plug it.

He spilt black ink over the canvas of his mind. He refused its desire to dry, and commanded the liquid's path. It flowed downwards through the whiteness and into the deformed circle, beginning to consolidate in patches of consuming darkness. Simon refused to miss a detail, painting drop by drop. The proportions of the room, the thickness of their walls, he matched them all. The last drops filtered down to him, forming a platform of safety where he stood.

The image was complete.

The roar of the world being torn apart surrounded him, a tearing, ripping sound that screeched in his ears. There was no reprieve from it, it tore at his eardrums even as it tore at the world. He opened his eyes as the floor surrounding him fell away, torn into the portals yawning mouth. The gunpowder followed suit, its black grains disappearing instantly into nothingness, leaving only marks of soot to mark their passing. He groaned, the energy seeping out of him as he held the door open, peering down into the image of the sky below. The black piles flowed from nothingness into reality, burying several of the Varokians under their onyx weight. The gunpowder did not stop flowing, his flawed portal delivering them to their destination slower than they had hoped.

His groans grew more desperate as he struggled to maintain the image in his mind, the portal wobbling and squealing as it faltered, pushing his brain to its limit even with the aid of his medallion. He looked down again, eyes faltering, waiting desperately for his efforts to be allowed an end. 

The gunpowder was arriving slowly, but It was still fast enough. The Varokians were clearly panicked, unsure of what was happening among their ranks, not retreating away from it fast enough.

Simon's exhausted eyes saw the flow of black grain stop as suddenly as it had begun. He had achieved what they had thought impossible. Now all that remained was Thea's arrow.

Simon breathed in deep, satisfied in his accomplishment, rather Simon tried to breath, but found he could not. His faltering vision faded further, his mind fading even as it hurriedly panicked to recover itself. No, not now, please, not now were Simon's last thoughts before the darkness came.

Simon fell sideways, the portal consuming him.

Sonia had waited till the gunpowder had arrived in its entirety before she issued the order to retreat. A thunderous tearing echoed across the battlefield as her men retreated as one to safety within the city walls.

A few stragglers remained, Sonia among them. She held the line, fighting until the last of the men beside her had disappeared. She was solemn as the world warped around her, memorising the face of the Varokian she had been clashing with. His fearful face would be her memorial to the massacre she was about to commit.

The city walls were cold and quiet. No man spoke a word. She stared at the mass of men on that great green field. A handful had run from the battle, but the majority were swarming around the gunpowder, never imagining what it was they faced. The Archbishops struggled ineffectively to calm the frenzied horde and reinstate some form of order. 

Sonia scanned the floor of the field one last time, she knew that there were wounded among her men scattered there. She knew that they could yet be saved, she knew that they were to die under her order. She wondered just how many there were.

She looked up to Thea stood upon the walls highest tower. She didn't speak, the look in her eyes was enough.

A flaming arrow had been prepared. Thea began to draw.

Sonia looked back at the black pyramids one last time and saw Simon fall among them.

The arrow loosed. Thea began her spell.

Sonia did not breath. The world warped. Simon lay unconscious before her.

She reached out. She grabbed him. The world warped once more. She did not feel the man grabbing her.

Thea's cast her spell. The arrows trajectory was warped as it landed directly on its kindling.

The world burned red. Its raging roar was the death cry of two thousand men.