The Battle Begins

Their lines stand shoulder to shoulder, archers nocking arrows, swordsmen planting heels into the dirt, mages channeling flickers of flame between their palms. But it’s the shapeshifters that draw Diane’s eyes. Not as many as she’d thought, or hoped, but they are impressive, spread out among their ranks. Above them, giant birds circle, watching every move on the ground. Some of them are real birds, others are shapeshifters in their animal form. She can’t tell which is which. Not that it matters.

Feeling shorter than ever, Diane stands between Aster and Lilah, with Rafe in the shape of Great Blackbear next to his wife. She glances at Aster who seems unreasonably calm, still thankfully in his human shape.

“You okay?” he asks, and she nods, unable to sort through all the feelings scrambling for her attention. Despite being terrified, there’s an odd sense of peace, of determination filling her. This is it. The moment they’ve been, perhaps not working for, but been driven to. Whatever happens, this is it. All preparations have been made. Spells practiced. Strategies decided on.

“Good. Just remember to stay clear of the fighting, don’t leave the safety of the hill. And try to make sure Alder stays there as well.”

“I’ll do my best,” Diane says, thinking that preventing the hotheaded teen from joining the battle might not be as easy as it sounds. “Be careful. All of you.”

“Of course. We’ll win this.”

“You better!” She gives his hand a little squeeze. “Aren’t you changing too?”

“I’ll wait until this duel takes place. Not showing our hand too fast. Let them make the first move.” His hand brushes along her back, probably not by accident. “There’s a lot of movement on the other side, if the noise is anything to go by. You should leave.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t want to, but she had agreed that it was the best plan. A chaotic battlefield isn’t the place for her, especially if her new spells work the way she hopes they will.

“Stay safe, girl,” Lilah says, placing a hand briefly on her shoulder, before turning to the great bear next to her. “Ready, love? Let’s get started."

The bear roars, and Lilah smiles as she shimmers, but instead of transforming, she grows. Two, maybe three heads taller, she now towers above Aster, and next to her, Rafe has grown equally much.

“How did you do that?” Diane stares up at the now giantess. Perhaps she hadn’t just imagined Lilah looking taller during the battle back at the Arakiba fortress.

“It’s my speciality. I’m an enhancer, so I can enlarge my own body and my equipment."

“And your husband.” Diane points out, still staring. “Could you… Could you make me taller too?”

“Perhaps. So far, I’ve only done it for Rafe and my sons. As you must’ve noticed, our spells are tightly bound to our emotions.” She smiles. “And if you were planning on joining the battle, I’d have to say no. Besides, I’m pretty sure someone would have objections, even if it’s just a temporary change.” She looks over at Aster who gives her a questioning look. “I get the feeling he likes you just the way you are.”

Diane’s cheeks grow red, but before she can mumble an embarrassed reply, the earth shakes. The Gate, sealed for nearly a millennium, explodes outward in a storm of ancient metal and rock. A blast wave rolls down the slope like a tidal wave of dust and dread. The wall, as old and strong as the gate, cracks in several places. Parts of it tumbling down, sending rolling boulders toward them.

Aster pushes her out of the way of some of the falling debris, then gives her a shove.

“Go. Run! I’ll see you after we win.”

She does run, after lingering long enough to see him draw his sword, see the dust settle, and rows upon rows of enemy soldiers and mages lined up on the higher ground. So many. Then she runs for the hill and the dubious safety there.

For a moment, everything is still, complete silence, as if the world is holding its breath for what’s about to happen.

Then everyone moves at once. The two armies collide with the sound of worlds ending.

Hidden openings in the ground are pushed open, and a swarm of huge snakes and lizard beasts writhes forth from the tunnels beneath. Not overly powerful in themselves, they flood the battlefield, snapping at legs, dragging soldiers down, adding to the chaos.

Swords clash with scales. Fireballs meet acid spit mid-air and explode into a shockwave of light. A leopard-shifter slams into a giant lizard, the two tumbling in a whirlwind of claws, snapping jaws, and blood. Arrows rain down from the ridge, piercing flesh, fur, and scale alike. A dark mage raises both hands, and balls of black, cursed goop join the battle.

From her vantage point on the hill, the previous sense of calm has left Diane, and her stomach is sick from worry and grief, as well as nausea from the scenes playing out below her.

This battle is like an insatiable storm of violence. Of fire and steel, of blood and death. Screams. Snarls. Explosions. Ash, dust, and rocks raining down on friend and foe alike.

Above her, the high-pitched shrieks of the eagles make her look up. Their strategy seems simple and efficient, though gruesome. Diving down to grab some struggling creature and flying high into the sky with them. The humans are just dropped. Landing on the battlefield with sickening crunches. The lizards and giant snakes prove a bigger challenge and are getting ripped apart in the air before allowed to fall to the ground. Diane knows that great predatory birds can hunt and kill even large, poisonous snakes, but seeing it like this is… beyond any words she knows.

To her surprise, one of them changes its strategy. When diving for its next kill, it transforms mid-flight, shimmering from eagle to man, landing in a crouch, twin blades drawn, eyes blazing over a hooked nose. Hector. For some reason, it seems unfair that such an unpleasant man should have such an impressive other form. He’s also anything but inept with his short swords and singlehandedly takes out a troop of enemy archers before taking a deadly stab in the back. No!

She might not like him, but she’s got to save him. He’s family after all. Taking a deep breath to focus and steady her hand, Diane raises her bow, willing her mana to form a pale blue arrow.

“Healing Shot.” The spell sizzles through the air, across the battlefield, until it disappears into Hector’s chest. Diane holds her breath, counting her heartbeats as she watches him intently. The theory behind the spell is sound, but this is the first time an actual life hangs on it working.

Nine heartbeats later, he stirs and she almost sags with relief. He swiftly gets on his feet and takes revenge on the man who stabbed him and left him for dead. For a moment, his eyes meet hers across the chaos. His head bobs in a small nod and his fist touches his chest in greeting. Then he’s gone, back in the battle, lost to her eyes until the great eagle once more takes flight. Continuing the battle from the air. Diane does the same, sending arrow after arrow to help those in need.

The battle rages on as the sun travels across the sky, neither side gaining an apparent advantage. Until a stir ripples through the enemy troops, followed by excited whispers.

From the depths of the shattered gate, a new shadow emerges, each long stride slow, deliberate. A tall, lean figure, wearing ancient-looking ceremonial armor. Parts of his long hair are tied up in the resemblance of a crown, while the rest flows freely down his back. His eyes, a golden amber, inhuman in their brightness, glow with obsessive conviction.

He’s not visibly armed, yet he seems more deadly than their other foes put together. Is this the mysterious king of Kagemure? A few steps behind him, one on each side, two men follow him. One, clad in plain black armor, Diane recognizes as the spokesman who had come to Hinokawa with the unwelcome proposal. The other is a younger man, dressed in similar armor as the king, his long hair gathered at the nape of his neck.

The remains of the Mokushi troops flow to the sides as the three approach the broken gate, delicately stepping around the bodies and puddles of blood. Once more, all is quiet, as if the world is holding its breath. The spokesman steps forward, his voice ringing loud and clear over the still battlefield.

“All hail our liege, the wise Raezan Ryūketsu, Highking of the mountain.” Diane isn’t the only one who gasps. Raezan? The same Raezan as in the letters they found? Impossible. Even if the records of his death in the war were wrong, that was eight hundred years ago. As if the spokesman knows what she’s thinking, he smugly adds: “True dragons don’t die, they slumber. Time and age hold no power against them. They are immortal.”

Immortal? What the hell? Then a cold hand squeezes her heart. Is Aster about to fight an actual immortal being? A freaking dragon?

Not fair.