Hello everyone! I am Transformers 0, And welcome to my first ever WITCH story!
It will be an adaptation of the first arc of the comics – or in other words the first season of the TV show.
It will contain elements of both the comic and the cartoon.
I became a WITCH fan just this year! And I'm a 16-year-old boy!
There may be some discrepancies, but that's because we don't have much WITCH comics over here in New Zealand. I can find episodes on YouTube, but I'll just have to go off plot descriptions of the comics – unless anyone knows a site where I can read the comics online.
WITCH (both the comic and the show) belongs to Disney – not me.
WITCH
Needing Reinforcements
There is another universe. Where a rebellion is taking place. The forces of Good against an Evil ruler. A mortal clash between the Light and the Darkness itself.
The light is generous.
It gifts all sentient life with an objective to strive for. It's a candle even in the most sinister shadows of the darkest night.
Our fears and insecurities vanish among the rays of salvation. And those rays shine not only upon us, but upon others as well.
The light bestows among us the gift of resolution.
Seeing the brightness of pure benevolence releases you from the malicious confines of your own faults. It allows you to see the same, resolute spark within the hearts of others, binding all life in harmonious unity.
The third, most important gift of the light is the vision of righteousness.
You can see the dark, and the dark sees you.
You stare darkness in the face, and it stares right back at you.
The dark penetrates your heart, grasping your soul.
But it doesn't control you – not while you have the light on your side.
As the darkness recedes, it is the light that truly shines triumphant.
"Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!"
The thuds of metallic boots on grass approaching from the horizon grew ever so louder. The thuds of the leather boots of his own men rushing out the front entrance of the village square itself pumped adrenaline through Caleb's blood.
"What is this?!" his friend replied.
"So Phobos does have a stomach to try out his army's valour," Caleb muttered to himself, "A first-time invasion. They're throwing everything they can at the village."
"So Commander, what's our plan?" the friend queried, lost in a haze of thoughts and the shears of the battle. "You flatter me too much, Captain Aldarn," Caleb remarked, wittiness etched in his throat.
"No not really. At 15, you're a commander already. Me? I'm 16 and still two ranks away from being your equal on the battlefield."
"Just as I am one rank away from becoming like my father," Caleb glanced slightly skywards as he finished his sentence. "The General would've been proud of you," Aldarn said, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder.
The 15-year-old gave a tiny flicker of acknowledgement with a thoughtful smile, before returning their attentions to where they should be. "I'll get two squads to flank them from the sides, while you and your company try to push back Phobos' forces to the village perimeter."
"Acknowledged," said Aldarn, before turning to two of his sergeants, "Quinn and Yaddol, assemble your men and follow Caleb."
The two sergeants headed off. A captain rode by on horseback, yelling orders to "Head to the front!"
Aldarn turned, and saw Caleb had already left to spring his trap. "Battle positions, everyone!" he yelled to the men behind.
They raced to the hastily-made makeshift barricades. Two platoons of archers, led by Major Drake, were positioned on the buildings. They had just finished another round of arrows and were reloading their bows and crossbows. The rest of the archers who were not stationed on buildings were in the streets below, aiming arrows and firing with random, desperate timing. Three were cut down by return fire in short order just as Aldarn arrived. Lancers on horses soared overhead, jumping the barricade and charging the enemy lines. That was a suicidal move. A shout came from the roofs.
"RETURN FIRE!"
Arrows whooshed from the buildings to meet their targets, who were slowly but most certainly starting to get past the village entrance. The enemy army didn't stop their advance, despite the cost of losing more numbers, and as the first wave was defeated, the shield-bearers shifted to the front of the ranks to cover the second. A catapult launched, its flaming projectile barely missing the barricade, overshooting it – though it still caught some unlucky rebels in its landing.
"How does Caleb plan on winning this again?!" Drake shouted to Aldarn from the rooftops. "Oh you'll see!" Aldarn replied. More flaming projectiles soared overhead.
"What's our plan of attack, sir?" inquired Quinn, inspecting the losing battle below. Both squads had stealthily made their way to two adjacent buildings nearest to the invaders.
"Men, have your shields, swords and bows ready after we toss our spears. Feel free to hurl your maces, axes, and any other chained weapons you brought along. We're going to weigh them down, trip 'em up, and then send them to oblivion," Caleb stated, standing straight and true. He then gave the command.
"LET'S MOVE!"
With that, the squads lined the edges of the buildings, hurling spears and other excess weaponry at the intruders. Within seconds some of the enemy soldiers became prone bodies leaking out blood on the ground. The enemy diverted fire from the barricades to the nearby nuisances.
"Just as planned," Caleb thought wryly.
From far behind him, a cry of "CHARGE!" was hollered. That diversion was all that was needed for his own men to counterattack with their first two waves. Lines of troops scrambled over the barricade, racing to meet the enemy up close. Steel weapons collided, flesh ripped, blood flowed. The rebels had managed to stop the advance, but it was entirely another matter of pushing the enemy back. The third wave scrambled over, scattering and floundering as the enemy re-concentrated their volley of arrows.
Retorts, curses, screams and cries resounded on the village streets.
"Come on, you bastards!"
"Pathetic scumbags!"
"Runts!"
"Weaklings!"
"Cowards!"
Aldarn, having lead the third charge with sword pointed at the heart of Phobos' army, unsheathed his second blade, streaking and slicing through enemy bodies. Flashes of silver glinted all over the place. The deafening sounds of metal on metal banged in the ears of all. Dust and blood kicked up a malicious haze, so unnatural and malevolent.
The two squads up front pulled back, making the leaps and crossing the tops of the buildings behind. Some held back a bit longer with Caleb to rain a few more arrows upon the aggressors. The rebels' archers started to advance quickly forward.
"Come on lads!"
"Hit 'em, boys!"
"Aim at the right!"
Just as Aldarn gutted two of Phobos' men, he looked up in time to see Caleb jump off a roof and slide down a lantern line to join the street melee. The rebel flanks scattered forward into thin rows, archers launching arrows and warriors charging. "We're going to need reinforcements!" Caleb reported, using his foot to flick a forsaken shield into his hands. "The other regiments still need time to traverse! This is the only village nearest to the Infinite City!" Aldarn yelled back over the roar of battle.
The intruders were sill advancing, getting much more quicker this time. "Tell the men to fall back just before the square! It's time!" Caleb noted grimly, turning to run and raising the shield.
"Right! Crock Company, cover our retreat! Rest of you men – FALL BACK!"
A flurry of legs, arms and streaks of metal. A spattering of blood and rising contrails of dust. Darkness shrinking, lightness increasing.
"Unleash the Ox Cannons!"
"Yes, Commander!"
Heavy cannons rolled forwards, lining up the front of the square and on the rooftops of surrounding buildings.
The imperial catapults were blown to smithereens. The enemy soldiers glanced around, horrified and dumbfounded. The rebel scum had new heavy weaponry? Worse than that, it was long-range, up-to-date, and lethally effective. About 20 seconds passed before a break to reload and already, several waves had been shredded by the cannonfire. The imperial cannons were old-fashioned and primitive compared to the beasts that rained balls of white-hot, definite death upon them.
"Commander Raythor! Our forces are being overrun!"
The commander scowled darkly, his chainmail cape ominously rattling. Even if they brought out their strongest weaponry and soldiers from the back, that still wouldn't give them half a shot at breaking the enemy lines. He gnashed his teeth, pointed and hideous as fangs. The Prince was going to be bitterly disappointed. His best regiment defeated by new rebel toys? Unlikely, yet still unfavourably true.
And their own reinforcements from the south continent would take months to arrive. The Rebels might've won the war by then. Curses. No way could that happen – not when the imperials ultimately had Phobos as their ultimate leader. Phobos is the ultimate harbinger of doom. The architect of devastation, the author of atrocity, the carpenter of malevolence. Even Phobos' parents stood no chance against their son. So yes, Raythor could pull his men back and take the heat. Because Phobos would have another way to seal their victory.
That was all the confirmation that Raythor needed.
"Turn the troops around!"
Caleb and Aldarn cut down the last of the imperials still in the village, turning to see the surviving opponents on the run.
"Why are they hauling their arses outta here?" Aldarn remarked, questioning the certainty and significance of their victory.
"I don't think they were eager to meet our new machines," smiled Caleb ruefully, "How heavy were our losses?"
"About a quarter of the regiment is dead, and two other quarters wounded," answered Yaddol.
"Credit given, sergeant. Dismissed," Aldarn spoke, watching the salvaging and rebuilding of the village begin.
"How I wish that those reinforcements would arrive. The earlier they come, the earlier we can strike the capital – and eliminate the Prince once and for all. Hell, even if they don't arrive early, at least we can utilize strength in numbers to ensure this village's status as the main stronghold," grumbled Caleb, folding his arms and looking at the retreating army, now a long distance away and starting to climb the eastern mountain pass that was one of the valley's exits.
"Well, we can at least thank the Maker that today we've prevailed. And we should also thank you and your brilliant strategy, mate."
"Sincere gratitude received and reciprocated, Aldarn. Now it's time to focus on the best offence we have at the moment: Defense. I need you to set up a defense perimeter along the mountainous outlines of the valley. By the way, I'll be going out on my own for a few days – and I personally ask you to cover for me."
"But Caleb, I'm… I'm… I'm just a captain."
"With the capabilities of a general."
"B-b-but why?"
"There are rumours. Sometimes they hint at us, sometimes they choke us, and sometimes they give us insight – lifting our crushed spirits off the hard, bitter ground," Caleb replied, tugging Aldarn away and into a secluded alley. Caleb paused, and Aldarn mentally swore that he had never seen Caleb looked so upbeat since the death of General Julian a year ago. Caleb breathed, looking and feeling so free after eons of agony. Then he spoke.
"There are rumours that the new Guardians of the Veil have been found. It may seem like I'm just going on a wild bhino chase, but this rumour and the hope that may come of it are too valuable to pass up. I'm going to find a portal to Earth."
"That… that is… wonderful news…" Aldarn almost laughed heartily, his stomach feeling like it was fluttering in the breeze. New Guardians means new hope. New hope means new convictions. And convictions… bring about victory.
Caleb grasped Aldarn's shoulders.
"Tell everyone to stand strong. The reign of darkness is at its end. A new, virtuous era is about to begin. And… good luck, old friend."
With nothing else left to say, Caleb turned to depart. A quick voice calling to him made him glance behind.
"And good luck to you, old bud," Aldarn replied, leaning slightly on the remains of the brick wall for support.
With truly nothing left, Caleb broke off into a steady jog, leaving Aldarn to his own musings.
Support.
That word has become one of Life's Truest Treasures among the common people.
Over the 13 years of war that has plagued Metamoor, simple words have become so invaluable.
Support.
We Rebels have helped and leaned on each other when times grew difficult and arduous, under the sinister reign of Phobos. For 13 long years, courage has been our food, honour our drink, and family-hood our source of innate righteousness.
Now the war is almost over, and though we may have less uses for the words of virtue, I hope that those words never lose their significance of what they did for us in our darkest times.
Aldarn Serenos
– Captain in the Rebel Army
– Son of weapon maker Aketon Serenos
Whoo! First chapter done!
Hopefully in a few weeks you'll be seeing another chapter from me!
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Have a good day, my friends! And God bless you all!
Transformers 0 out!
