Magical fire erupted in front of his horse as he desperately tried to pull the reins away. The fireball could've turned him into dust and ash, but fortunately he still moved. His head turned to the left to see a soldier wielding a spear rushing for him. There was fear in the young man's eyes, he couldn't have been more than 20 years old, but there isn't time to think about that.
With the power of ancient spells Azelle of Velthomer shot fire at him, striking him alight. Azelle grimaced. Despite the fact that he has killed many with such spells before, Azelle felt an extra pit in his stomach grow this day. Today he's fighting men from his home, from his castle, from his brother; and this time, he doesn't think they're going to win.
Azelle galloped his horse through the chaos of the battlefield, meteors still raining from above. They're surrounded, they're outnumbered, and worst of all, they are leaderless. He didn't want to believe it, he could barely stomach the idea, but he knew. Azelle saw his brother Arvis strike down Lord Sigurd with the holy flames of their family's ancient weapon. He had never seen Valflame's power in action before Lord Sigurd fell, and he never wanted to see it again.
Azelle ushered himself forward to the front of the hastily realized battle lines, horse pushing footsoldiers aside. The noise of men, horses steel, and magic made a deafening symphony as Azelle tried to see who had taken command in Lord Sigurd's downfall. Amidst the confusion Azelle could see that men were rallying to the Red Dragon upon the Green Field. Prince Jamke's banner.
It made sense. Prince Jamke was in the rear guard when they entered Belhalla and thus wouldn't have been annihilated in the first few minutes of the engagement. With Lord Sigurd and his personal guard all devastated the front lines were probably all gone. Noishe's and Alec's commands were hit hard, and they might be gone too. Azelle didn't want to think about it, there wasn't time to think about it. Men he'd become friends with, fought alongside, the idea they could be swept away in such an instant just wasn't right.
With urgency Azelle made his way to Jamke himself, who was commanding his archers to loose upon the enemy mages. If they could kill the mages casting meteor spells down into the battlefield then maybe they'd have a chance to avenge Lord Sigurd and turn the tide of this battle.
"Prince Jamke!" Azelle called out, hoarse voice catching in his throat.
"Azelle, thank the Gods," Jamke's normally cool and collected composure was all but destroyed and Azelle could see the look of wildness and desperation in the Prince's face, "What's happened at the other end of the lines? Where's Lord Sigurd?"
"He's-"
Another meteor exploded a few meters from where they were standing, taking out a half dozen of Jamke's archers. The Prince swore, shooting another arrow back at a mage. "We're going to need more power to punch through his line, where is Lord Sigurd?"
"Lord Sigurd is dead!" Azelle finally managed to shout out above the cacophony, he words burning in his heart and his lips, "My brother killed him, he's gone!"
Jamke's eyes seemed to dim... and then flared up in a burning anger that Azelle had never seen from the usually stoic archer. Rather than trembling, Jamke's hands steadied, his bow ready to enact vengeance, justice, or whatever one might call it.
"Then the lines in the direction of the capital are shattered and nearly lost," Jamke surmised, "We have to keep pushing forward."
Azelle let loose more fire that brought down five more men, but others rushed to take their place.
"We'll need more force for that, otherwise we'll just be trapped between here and the capital,." Azelle thought of who or what could get them out of this situation, his first thought was to the other Divine Crusaders in their army. "We need Lewyn, or-"
"I saw Prince Lewyn fall. He went up against some dark sorcerer, I've never seen anything like it. I don't want to think what Lady Erin will say."
The mention of Lady Erin brought to Azelle's mind his own family, his wife. Tailtiu was here somewhere, she had to be, he refused to accept otherwise. She had just lost her father, and in a way he had just lost his brother. They had children waiting for them in Silesse, he wasn't going to go back to them without their mother.
"And Tailtiu? Where is she?"
" I don't know!" Jamke saw a gap open up in one of the formations and quickly sent an arrow into the eyes of an enemy who tried to exploit it before barking orders, "Reinforce the line! Bring up the reserves!"
"Jamke, I have to know!"
"Look, she was with Lex last I saw her," Jamke snapped. "They were holding off the enemy cavalry before I had to reinforce this point."
That was good, that was manageable. Azelle tried to tell himself that again and again. Lex would take care of her, he always had. Lex wouldn't let him down, not like Arvis had betrayed him. Arvis had...
Another explosion rocketed Azelle out from his thoughts, there was so little time to sort through all the feelings and turmoil that was going on inside his head. So much death when they were supposed to finally have been freed from their time spent running and hiding; and to think this all started because he wanted to rescue Lady Edain.
"You'll have to be our firepower through this line," Jamke said to Azelle, "We've no other options. Call down all the fire you can!"
Azelle took a deep breath, and called on all the raw power he could muster. There were more than enough targets in front of him, and they had to punch through or they would all die here. Azelle opened the book and began the incantations, his horse Strider trying to stay still while the magical energy rippled around him.
The flames began to conjure themselves, white-hot and magnificent as they danced in the air. Slowly but surely they began to grow and grow, their light reflecting off the burning sky. His blood seemed to sing as the lineage of Fjalar called out to the magic he was using. He was not Arvis, he was not the wielder of Valflame, but he was a powerful mage in his own right, and he was going to save who he could. He was Azelle of Velthomer.
The flames arced across the battlefield and consumed nearly all in their path. Men and women of Chalphy, Velthormer, Friege, Jugby, Silesse, Agustria, Verdane, and countless other lands died and screamed as battle raged.
"You've done it!" Jamke clapped Azelle hard on the back as a gap began to open up in the enemy front line. It was a small one that had the potential to close fast, but it was there, and they were going to drive for it with all the power and desperation left in their bones.
Jamke took out his hunting horn, a white ivory thing hewn from some animal or another. He put the instrument to his mouth and blew three long blasts, the signal for the charge. Azelle had first heard that sound in the forests of Verdane when Jamke was his enemy. It terrified him then, but now it was something that stirred what little vestiges of hope remained.
Again three long blasts to signal the charge, and all the plains heard it. Even the clouds seemed to carry the noise, as Erin's pegasus knights seemed emerge from the sun itself and into the ranks of the enemy, braving sword, spell, and arrow to make diving attacks that slashed at the enemy lines.
"FOR CHALPHY!" The enemy lines to the right of Azelle's and Jamke's current position seemed to suddenly face a tide of fury as Chalphy's armored units burst forward to take on the royal army.
Azelle allowed his heart to rise for one moment, as at the head of the column he could see Sir Arden and Lady Arya moving to devastate all the enemy before them. Sir Arden's heavy armor saw the arrows and swords of the enemy wash off him like water against rock, while Lady Ayra moved simply too fast for them to strike.
They could do this, they were going to live, they were going to make it! They could regroup, they could avenge Lord Sigurd, they could-
At the same time the charge signaled and the survivors of Lord Sigurd's army pushed forward a great cry seemed to echo from behind them. Azelle's mind leapt into the conclusion that he dreaded to think. The rearguard had collapsed, Arvis' direct forces and the Belhalla royal guard had defeated what might've remained of Alec and Noishe's forces, which probably meant Chulainn and Beowulf's commands were gone too. They were doomed, even if they could press through the breach he'd created they'd be hounded every step by the Belhalla Guard.
However, hope refused to die this day for several in this army. Jamke's continued to blow the war horn and he issued his men to advance. Azelle though he caught a glimpse of Lady Lachesis' blonde hair as she led what remained of their cavalry through the breach, but their momentum was limited and their time was running out.
Eventually Azelle and Jamke had fought their way to Arden and Ayra's position, the armored knights lacking the mobility to keep up the charge alongside the mounted knights. Arden and Ayra were both injured, dying. Azelle wanted to call for Lady Edain and Father Claude, but they were nowhere to be seen.
Arden roared as he thrust a lance into an enemy soldier before turning to face Azelle and Jamke while his men filled his place in the line, "Good to see you kid,. I take it it was you who lit the way forward?"
"Yes, that was me," Azelle looked at Arden and marveled how he was still standing with his heavy armor singed by fire and with cracks beginning to show. "I'm sorry Arden, Lord Sigurd is-"
Arden cut him off. "I know. I think I knew from the start, no way we'd be doing this badly if Lord Sigurd was still here."
"We're not all going to make it out of here this time," Jamke said solemnly, "It's out of our hands now."
"I've been prepared to die for Lord Sigurd's family all my life," said Arden. "I'll gladly hold the line here to let the rest of you get out of here."
"I as well," Lady Ayra appeared with her sword still glinting in the sunlight despite the spatter of blood. "I'll fight for Lord Sigurd till the very end, as I know he would've done for me."
A dark look crossed Jamke's face as he looked upon the soldiers surging back and forth on the field. He saw that Sigurd's army was pushing forward against the defensive lines of the enemy, but if the front was collapsed against the rear they would be crushed. The rearguard had to be reinforced or held, so at least some of the men and women would live.
"Azelle," Jamke said, "Gather who you can and make one last push for the treeline. We'll hold the line here to buy you time."
Azelle wanted to say no, that they would be able to escape together. He wanted to argue that Jamke, Arden, and Ayra couldn't die here, not with children waiting for them in Issach! Yet the rational part of his mind knew that this was probably the most logical plan. They could not all outrun the enemy forever, not if Velthomer's soldiers were free to pursue. Someone had to hold the line.
"I... I understand," Azelle gripped the reins of his horse tightly and looked to the three of his comrades who were holding the line here. "It has been an honor, all of you."
"And the same goes to you," Jamke said to Azelle, "Look after my wife if you can find her after this, and tell Edain... I'm sorry."
There was no time for tears or long goodbyes, Azelle simply nodded, and as he turned away he knew he would never see Jamke, Arden, or Ayra again. He would cry when he was away, he would find who else he could and leave this place, and when he had left he would cry, but for now the horror of Belhalla had to greet him once more as he escaped.
A/Ns
This is a little something I came up with and wrote one day after thinking about how we never really find out about what happens to Azelle. While there's non-canon material about him, I wanted to give him a little treatment of his own on that bitter Belhalla field. I might write a little more about the fall or escape of other characters from Bellhalla, but this is mostly its own complete thing. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed.