Chapter 11: Empress

Defence of the fortress city of Irongate...

'Protect the High Templar!', Aatrox grunted to no one in particular through gritted teeth as he cleaved a Fallen in two with a single sweep of his immense weapon.

Two more raised swords and charged at him, their eyes hidden beneath thick helmets; he speared one with the edge of his blade and screeched in annoyance as the other stabbed his stomach. He stepped back, pulling the Fallen along with the sword, before reaching down and squashing its head with a satisfying crunch!. Tossing the headless body aside, Aatrox gasped as he pulled the bloodied sword from himself and threw it casually into the rampaging mass of black-clad Fallen minions. A nearby Shadow Wyvern beat its wings and attempted to fly above the din; golden bolts blasted its underbelly and Aatrox reflexively ducked as he felt a blast of acrid fire burn the air above. More golden blasts filled the air; the Praetors were doing good work. Aatrox grimaced as he dispatched another with a horizontal slash.

Two purple bolts slammed into him, knocking him off balance, and the towering Guardian turned to glare at the ashen-faced Fallen Battle Mage who had dared attack him. With a bloodthirsty cry he soared into the air and slammed down onto the Mage, crushing her and sending bits of brain and blood flying everywhere. The nearby Fallen were torn between scrambling away from the bloodied Guardian and running him through with their swords. Aatrox did not take their moment of hesitation for granted and made quick work of the lot. Kicking still-warm corpses out of his way, he gave himself one second to look back at the Sefiro formations he had left behind.

All around him, the remnants of the Sefiran rear guard was collapsing. The massive contraptions the enemy had brought were teleportation portals; apparently Fallen High Command had foreseen the anti-teleportation charms that would come into place with Meridius's Divine Intervention and had managed to bring in the portals to warp in fresh troops from their base camps as they advanced further into the city. Well dug-in positions were being lost; the vital wizard towers that were essentially force-multipliers for the embattled Praetors were being overrun by the waves of Fallen, forcing them to abandon their position and sacrifice vital firepower or face encroachment and subsequent death. Too many important hold-outs were being lost; whatever chance of victory they had was gone along with the last rumblings of Mount Ashbourne, which had now come to rest on a quarter of the outer city.

Meridius had to abandon the city-walls; she was exposed to mage-fire in her elevated position and what few Justicars had attempted to maintain her had all perished when the first Shadow Wyverns were warped in. Now, the High Templar channeled her spell from within the Guardian's Chamber deep in the heart of the fortress city while the populace displayed general chaotic behavior mere streets away from the embittered fighting and what Sefiro could carry arms were funneled to Victory Square to hold off the unending waves while the young, the sick and the old streamed through hastily-erected portals to the safety of Citadel. The cries for 'Medic!' were too many among his troops; Aatrox took one moment to steel his resolve even as he easily parried a stab and cut the wielder's blade in half with his own, before sending the Queenblades to meet his maker.

A massive shockwave almost knocked Aatrox off his feet, he heard what sounded like hundreds of rocks flung into a very meaty body and- there- Syndra was panting as she levitated above a squadron of Praetors, their eyes burning gold with arcane magicks. A very dead Shadow Wyvern lay dead near their feet; two dozen golden spheres were flickering out of existence around its body. Aatrox smiled grimly to himself as he turned his gaze back onto the arched doorway on mounted wheels at the back of the marauding lot; dozens of purple shapes shimmered in the air. Swords began materializing followed by the dark armor of the Fallen blades-men, and the intense faces of a fresh lot of Battle Magi came into view as the warp-in almost completed.

Then darkness blocked the sky, and Aatrox saw the mages look up for one terrifying moment before the dead carcass of the Shadow Wyvern was encased in a golden leash from Syndra's outstretched hands and flung right at the mouth of the portal; crushing and killing all right away.

Sweet.

But there was no time to celebrate the slaying of the beast; two more Shadow Wyverns were flapping their wings as they tried to take to the skies. Aatrox readied his blade as he glanced around at the desperate Justicars still battling with the enemy Queenblades. They were not losing the battle, perhaps, but they were losing ground. And by the Judicator's will, they could not afford to lose any more ground already; the Fallen had gained territory one street at a time all the way from the fortress gates up to the steps of Victory square- losing the square and they would be fighting at the entrance to the Guardians' chambers, and that was not permissible by any means.

Past him ran two Praetors, suicidal-like, at the Fallen lines. They were charging head first at the two Wyverns, and despite himself Aatrox found the sudden urge to reach out and grab those two idiots back. But no… they were…colliding? No, merging.

The bright golden light that began to emanate from them forced Aatrox to raise a hand over his eyes; and just in time, too, he blocked a blow with his gauntlet. The Fallen frontline had to look away as the light got too bright. Agitated, the two Wyverns began to growl and opened their maws. Even without looking, Aatrox could tell that green-black balls of fire were gathering in the back of the beasts' throats. Surely, the stupid Praetors would be baked…

But no. He smelled burning ozone and backed away instinctively as the Praetors disappeared completely into a ball of golden light, energy crackling around it. Confused, the frontline Fallen backed away while the two monstrosities paced in place, indecisive. Somewhere within the enemy formation people were shouting; probably the veteran Queenblades- they must have seen these things before. There were orders to attack. There were screams to run first and ask questions later. Amidst the confusion, Aatrox slayed his attacker and stepped over its corpse, not believing that Syndra was indeed resorting to this tactic now. The light dimmed for one moment, confirming his suspicions.

The ground imploded, startling the Wyverns which both promptly took off as they snarled at the hole in the earth and breathed fire down on the mass of golden light. One massive hand made of ethereal energy in white armor shot from the hole and grabbed the first Wyvern by the tail, dragging it down. The shriek the Shadow beast let out threatened to burst his eardrums; others were clutching their heads, some of the enemy Battle Magi were on their knees, holding bloodied hands to their ears.

Aatrox turned and flew back to friendly lines as chaos began breaking out along the Fallen formation at this strange new enemy that was easily subduing a full-grown Shadow beast. Terrible, magnificent arcane creatures forged from the very souls of two Praetors; Archons were beings of pure energy, and thus possessed virtually unlimited destructive potential- banned in war only because they expired quickly, losing two Praetors the Great Beyond forever, and also, they were often a maelstrom of destruction, tending to sometimes by accident killing friendly units. Apparently, Syndra had reached her wit's end to have ordered her Praetors into using this suicidal tactic. The terror of ravaging Inquisitors were little compared to the sheer presence a single Archon commanded on the fields, especially against low-grade troops like Battle Magi and Queenblades. Even as he watched the Archon wrestle with the monstrosity twice its size, its light was beginning to dim ever so slightly. He met with a standing and utterly-drained Syndra, then gave her a questioning look, one eyebrow arched for the desperate tactic she was using.

She was too tired to be angry. Two Praetors' lives? Perhaps it was too extreme?

But it was working.

Screeching, the Wyvern bit the head of the levitating Archon, only to jerk away as its jowl was set ablaze and melted away. Two cerulean eyes on a head of pure gold energy, lightning crackled from its massive body; adorned by a gigantic chest metal chest plate made of a material not native to this realm. It hovered mid-air, punching through the Wyvern as the beast let out a dying shriek, before its insides began burning and the embers fell from the withdrawing grasps of the golden titan. The second Wyvern took step back, hesitant, eyes narrowed to slits, as it finally realized that its comrade had just been disemboweled by this new adversary.

Bolts of purple mage fire began bombarding the Archon from the scattered Fallen; but its energy shields easily held and the blasts dissipated on its face and chest without giving it a pause. Annoyed, however, at the ticklish sensations, the massive being turned a single hand on the masses of Queenblades running every which way in the distance and unleashed a single, devastating bolt of lightning that promptly incinerated the squadron-strength group. As if the gods were granting the defenders an added bonus, the last reaches of the lightning bolt blasted the final Nether Gate, cancelling the latest wave of Fallen mid-warp and sending them right back to wherever they came from.

Perhaps suddenly realizing that they were too deep in enemy territory now without backup, the enemy began to run headlong out of the Square. The Archon stared at its opponent as if waiting for it to make a move. Aatrox also stared, allowing himself a bemused smirk as the Shadow Wyvern continued pacing back and forth in place, as if it had a mental connection with a Magi and now that it's Master was dead, and it lost function and could only sit and watch as the enemy chased its owners out of the square. The dumb beast did not notice that its masters were leaving it behind- or if it did it gave no notice of it- and eventually opted for pouncing on the armored titan before it.

When they realized that the tide of the battle had turned, the scattered Sefiro formed up behind the vanguard of a single rather loud-mouthed Justicar and began promptly giving chase to the hastily retreating Fallen. Heaving a huge relieved sigh, Aatrox brandished his sword once more as he rose into the skies, drawing out the blood of every dead creature on the battlefield to empower his blade and give himself immense stores of energy as he spread his wings to their full span, readying to give pursuit to the fleeing invaders. Before he could launch himself headfirst at the enemy, however, another massive, earth-shattering rumble shook the entire battlefield. Heck, to Aatrox it felt like it had shaken the entire city.

Every heads turned to the source of the sound and; there. There it was. A single point of light. Purple in color. Hovering in the air just so. About twenty meters off the ground. The point, already small as it was, turned even smaller, into a pinprick of light… as if it was being sucked into itself.

Too late. Aatrox immediately realized what was going on and attempted to scream above the confused din of soldiers from both sides to order his troops to retreat, but the huge whoosh! of the portal as it collapsed unto itself to then spawn a massive Nether Gate drowned out his call of warning, and a ginormous 20-feet wide black void spawned into existence right above the square. A large, dust raising thud! caused all heads to turn towards the Archon once again; the dead Wyvern gave one final twitch as its torso began disintegrating beneath the fiery touch of the golden titan, but despite that victory something deep within Aatrox told him that whatever it was that Syndra did, she would be about to need to do a lot more of it.

Something, no, wait, several something, like tiny pinpricks of light, began showing on the Nether Gate. It was almost like there were people walking towards them from the end of some long, long tunnel.

Shit.

Aatrox thought and attempted to raise his voice to once again warn his troops; the Sefiro band that had charged ahead to give chase to the enemy were right underneath the warp gate, and the disrupted formations of enemy Fallen were quickly regrouping as they seek to trap the Justicars in a pincer with the remnants of their own forces. But once again, his voice was drowned out by a massive roar as an absolutely massive, and it was really massive, it was huge, it was ginormous, it was another Shadow Wyvern, but not just any Shadow Wyvern. This monster was easily ten times the size of the one that the Archon had just felled. It was so big that only its head fitted through the warp gate, but if its snout was already larger than the Archon below it, Aatrox dared not think what its full length would be like.

The Archon showed no hesitation, however, as it proceeded to launch itself right at the new enemy, perhaps thinking that it would just punch its way through the beast's face like the last time. The Wyvern literally opened its mouth and swallowed the Archon whole.

And just like that, the golden titan was gone.

A flash of light blinded everyone for a moment, and although he could not see Aatrox dared to pray that perhaps the Archon had exploded inside the beast's throat, thus destroying it. But his hope died the moment his eyes recovered enough to realize that the blinding light was not golden, but purple.

When he was able to look again, the Wyvern was gone.

Hovering more than a dozen feet above the ground in its place was a little girl, in a midnight black tunic with the finest embroidery he had seen in all his years on Aerilion, wearing a diamond-studded tiara and the most beautiful, innocent smile he had ever seen on anyone on and off the battlefields. It took him a long moment to realize that the girl was the Wyvern.

By the will of the Judicator, it cannot be.

Dark Lady Ayla the Sixth let herself levitate down to the ground as the silhouettes of a hundred Imperial Battle Magi began warping in at her back, eyes slightly narrowing as she focused on the immense sword-wielding warrior flying above her and a slightly-bedraggled, but still regal-looking female mage off in the distance.

Guardians by the look of it,Li muttered through their telepathic link. The rest are being prepped for warp-in as we speak.

Thank you, she thought back, adding a mental smile with her message.

Will you need the reserves, my lady? Li asked. In response, Ayla giggled. With eleven more legions of Imperial Battle Magi on the way, she would outnumber these Sefiro at least ten to one. Not once during the long, arduous campaign for Irongate had she had to call in the combined arms reserves consisting of Shadow Wyverns, Spectral Riders, Queenblades and Battle Magi, and the Empress was not about to do it now. As the warp-in completed, Ayla took a deep breath and rose to her full diminutive height; Li had insisted on boots if she was so adamant about going to the front, but she had whined about wanting her heels and he had- eventually, as always- relented. As the main forces fought their way through Irongate street by street she had had a verbal- but light hearted- argument with Li on whether she should wear her Imperial Crown or whether just opting for the simple, but still beautiful tiara. Li had insisted on the tiara, and she had for once relented.

Ayla sometimes liked to think she was indulging Li's childish tendencies, when the truth of the matter was the other way around. But still, more important matters had been looming, and so she thought no further of that.

At their back, a group of Sefiro stood, swords ready, spears leveled, shields held high, and eyes utterly filled with determination. As the pincer completed, completely separating the main force from the rest of the shattered remnants of the Sefiro rearguard, Ayla shot the two Guardians one happy look, before conjuring another Nether Gate that utterly swallowed the whole group of astonished Justicars before any protest could be voiced. Not that she would have listened; only her word mattered, anyways.

Another flick of the wrist; seven wizard towers made of ethereal energy rose out of the very air and her elite mages flew to each one, taking up positions quickly as the rest of the previously-retreating troops caught up and joined formations with her legions. They now outnumbered the enemy a hundred to one.

But it was not enough.

A flick of the wrist, another portal, and out stepped Li, or rather, the Li she was currently willing into form; and that form was another Wyvern, but snow-white, for it was an Ice Wyvern. Her last trip to Northpass had yielded some fond memories; riding Ice Wyvern Li over the fortresses of the terrified Sefiro was the stuff happy memories were made of.

Li snorted and snowflakes shot out of his nostrils. Ayla had to stifle a giggle; she found it rather adorable. But she had to behave- if only a little- in front of the troops. And so she did not giggle, instead putting on her 'battle face', which Li just said was her typical look when breakfast in the Castle was late by two minutes and she pouted and began demanding a ride on his back for no good reasons and started randomly ordering the executions of the blameless kitchen staff.

Ayla still put on her 'battle face' anyways, as she turned to the Guardians and put on her 'stern' voice.

'You! Hey!'

Silence met her words. Ayla resisted the urge to place her hand on her hips; Li said it was unbecoming of an Empress to act like an eleven-year-old girl. But I am an eleven-year-old girl! was her retort then. He had simply sighed and hunched over like he usually did when she was being a kid and he was acting all dead inside and cute and whatever.

'I am here to take over this city!'

The lady mage shot her an incredulous look. Ayla smiled at that. She had a nice crown. Nothing like my beautiful tiara though, hah!

'And why would we let you do that?', the male Guardian asked, his massive sword not missing her eye; it was blood-encrusted. Probably the big bad man had run it through plenty of her own folks. It made her a little sad. A frown found its way onto the Empress's face.

Dark Lady Ayla the Sixth did not like being sad.

She only liked happy.

And happy meant she got her way with everything.

Her loyal troops noticed it before she did.

With a blood-curling scream the female Guardian willed many, many golden orbs into existence around her and thrust her arm right at Ayla, causing all of the spheres to rush at the Dark Lady. In the millisecond it took for the destructive balls of energy to impact with their target and kill her instantly, Ayla had the presence of mind to think that really, these people didn't get any wiser with time and, really, she was tiring of this game already.

Her Imperial Battle Magi did not even have time to throw themselves in front of their Empress. There was just no time.

Not that it would have mattered.

The barrage of destruction bounced harmlessly off her swiftly conjured Black Shield, with the consistency not so unfamiliar from those of balloons hitting against one another when they were tied in a bunch. As the energy spheres fizzled and died out around her feet, Ayla huffed in pretend-anger at Syndra and willed Li into becoming a Dark Archon. The smell of burning ozone made everyone scrunch up their noses in annoyance, and Ayla gave herself permission to get out of this dreadful place back to somewhere where there were free-flowing bacon and eggs and maybe not-ozone.

Heck. I'm Empress, I can do what I like, hah!

Opening a portal for herself back to her Castle, Ayla shot the two astonished Guardians one last bemused look.

She was tempted to curtsy; but Li had warned her before that a Dark Lady, no matter how jolly and frivolous, and young, he had added, does not by any mean curtsy to the enemy.

And so she did not curtsy.

Instead, she grinned a wicked grin, although on her young, innocent visage it looked more cute than wicked. Ayla utterly failed when trying to look mean; one of the things Li found so happy about. The last warp-ins completed and a thousand Imperial Battle Magi stood ready, eyes turning purple with arcane forces as they prepared to face down the two Guardians. Aatrox and Syndra looked at her like she was crazy; Ayla noticed that they looked more surprised than scared. Interesting.

'Surrender!', she crooned as she spread her arms wide, 'or die!'

Their eyes only widened even further, if that was possible. It reminded Ayla of the big saucers at the tea table back in the Castle and she began giggling uncontrollably to the confusion of her Battle Mages.

Stepping into her portal, she smiled and gestured her Magi forward with a casual flick of the wrist.

'Kill them.'

'Kill them all.'

(break)

Fourteen Praetors began merging, out of sight of the enemy Fallen, as soon as their Dark Lady warped out of the battlefield. Soon, seven pairs of hands began clawing their way out of the ground. The Archons patiently waited behind the jumbled mass of old and young, and lightly-injured troops.

Power was palpable in the very air.

The assembled Justicars withdrew their blades and turned their eyes to their leaders. Josephus Kayle gave his wife a strained, but reassuring smile, then raised his own spear and turned his head to the defenders as he got ready to lead them charging into Victory Square.

They were all grim. They were all exhausted.

But they were all ready to fight to the death to defend their city.

Taking last one breath to steel himself, the Guardian turned his gaze on the massive purple abomination of an Archon that was rearing itself to obliterate Aatrox and Syndra.

Magic amplified his voice, and his battlecry was heard all across the field as the Sefiro bathed his weapon in divine fire and lunged at an astonished squadron of Battle Magi.

'Into the fray!', he roared.

(break)

S.v's note to readers: A lovely friend of mine (Six) brought it to my attention that On Tattered Wings has not been about the main character morgAna for the longest time now, and has been somewhat more of like 'Adventures of random folks in Aerilion'. And it's true. I admit to writing completely with no plans whatsoever hohoho. There are two ways the plot is impacted. One, and the only one so far, is me writing off my emotions; I'm happy the chapter is cute and fluff. I'm upset someone get raped, someone dies, or something along those bleak, sad lines. The second way; reviews. I have practically zero reviews. There is no feedback. No opinions. So if you want to shape this world, do leave a comment. Thanks folks. I update weekly so… until next week. Kekeke. Oh and, I got demoted from Gold2 to Gold4 D: why is it so hard to climb when you main support ;-;. If you ADC on Garena add me at 'support velkoz'. :3