Author's Notes:
Aiy! Not used to me popping up at the start of the chapter are ya?
Anywho! Quick forewarning that this chapter contains graphic depictions of violence. Also, if you'd like some extra fun for this chapter, I'd recommend pulling up the instrumental version of the song "Louder than Words" by Les Friction, and playing it(I've left a cue (*) where to kick it in). I've never done the whole 'music cue' thing before so forgive me if it feels off XD and holler at me if you think I should/should not do it again!
Morning came upon them bright and pleasant, the barest tugging of a breeze snatching at the hems of capes and tunics. The sun put a glint in the armor of a host of monsters, a flicker of fire across poleaxes, spears, lances and swords. The sky was brilliantly blue, the day warm for autumn. The landscape was alive with the sounds of birds and small animals, restless as the magic in the air. It was beautiful. It twisted Grillby's stomach in knots and peaked his flame through every shade of blue and white he could possibly be.
The scouts had come back that morning with news that the horsemen were now moving in their direction, moving to engage. To wipe out the small army of monsters who dared to test their might against their horses and swords. Now the monster host stood waiting for the convergence, the air tense as a bowstring, magic and intent stirring like a bitter miasma in the breeze. Ahead, the world sprawled out before them, a clearing hemmed sparsely by trees, the field dotted with dandelion fluff.
Grillby huffed a breath from where he stood, smoke wafting in an ashen halo around his head. He was at the front of the mustered army of monsters, standing rigidly beside Amathea and Brigg and a small handful of commanders he'd been unable to become acquainted with. Gaster stood shortly behind him, fidgeting anxiously with his hands and sweeping his eyes across the field before him for the first sign of a human breaking the tree line. He'd been a nervous wreck all morning, worrying over and over again about whatever would happen today, not knowing what to expect. Amathea on the other hand had been nothing less than enthusiastic. Reasonably wary as well, she had spent most of the morning delivering rousing talks to the more jittery parts of the companies as well as reviewing countermeasures with the other commanders. Now though, standing before the grand field where all her planning was destined to unfold, she was eager and ready. Amathea gave a roguish grin, hand planting itself firmly on her hip as she heaved out an exaggerated breath.
"Beautiful day for a battle, eh tinderbox?" she asked, clapping him enthusiastically on the back, "Not a cloud in sight, even ground to walk on…"
"Large open plain, perfect for horses," Grillby murmured worriedly, more to himself than the commander beside him. His soul giving a nervous shudder past it's uncomfortable, bursting feeling.
"Aye, and perfect for burning," Amathea pointed out, voice steady and reassuring, "Less of a chance of us getting cut off by a brush fire."
"That happens?" Gaster squeaked from behind them.
"It's not a problem if you account for it," Amathea shrugged, "But woe to the commander that forgets once an elemental releases their element on something, it tends to have a mind of its own! There have been units caught in their own crossfire before, especially in nasty forests where things tend to go up like a box of tinder. Open fields like this are a bit more forgiving, especially on days like this where the wind is down."
A horn blast in the distance burst through the air, echoing across to them in a wail of warning. Grillby wasn't sure what it signaled for, but a restless sort of shiver passed through the monsters around him at the sound of it. Amathea's smile turned sharp and dangerous as the sound died off.
"Brace yourself lad, they'll be along soon," the commander said, a magical spear crackling to life in her hand - just in case, "You remember what to do if the charge doesn't break?"
"Pray," Grillby chuckled with a sarcastic flicker. Amathea jabbed an elbow into his side and he amended, "Retreat back to the front line."
"Good," she flashed him a gentler smile, "You'll do fine, tinderbox."
A second horn sounded, closer now and foreign - humans rallying to the sound before breaking from their cover at the other end of the field. Amathea gave Grillby a sound shove, sending the elemental staggering out to meet them while Gaster stepped up to fill the void he'd left behind.
"You ever see an elemental at their finest, Gaster?" Amathea asked, her voice a low purr in her chest as she waited for the fight to begin unfolding. The skeleton shook his head.
"Just our spars. And I keep hearing those actually aren't all that fantastic."
Amathea barked a laugh, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "Well then! You're about to see why so many monsters wish we'd never started summoning elementals into this mess."
Her face split in an exhilarated grin, "And why the likes of us are all the more glad we did."
Grillby couldn't have felt more nervous if there were a thunderstorm brewing overhead. He felt terribly exposed and alone, walking away from the body of monsters behind him and across the expanse of flat dangerously open ground before him. It felt weird and unnatural. It made his entire core shudder. He also worried that the humans would notice something weird was going on, seeing him out and alone like this. But Amathea had insisted they'd be too enthusiastic in charging forward to much care what kind of daft monster was standing out there alone to meet them - not until it was too late anyway. (*)
Grillby stopped walking when a rumble like thunder started to tremble the air around him. He could feel it shivering through the ground at his feet, a soft reverberation that jittered its way through his body and set his nerves that much more on edge. They were coming. He could see the muffled glint of metal through the trees in front of him, the shouts and whoops as riders spurred their horses faster. The rumbling in the air and the earth intensified. Then they were crashing out into the open, swords drawn and teeth bared in a ferocious charge that would put the fear of the afterlife in any sensible monster. They shouted to each other in their strange, guttural language, the thrill of battle pushing them and their horses faster. They organized themselves into a dangerous arrow of a formation, ready to drive right through the monster army behind Grillby.
Heavens alive there were so many of them.
A soft, creeping sort of calm crawled its way through the elemental's soul as they neared. They couldn't harm him, they didn't even know who or what he was. As they thundered closer, they didn't hesitate for a moment. Even as the heat started building in the air, so rapid it wilted the grass at Grillby's feet and warped the air with waves as it bloomed around him. There was a tense, bursting feeling building in his soul as he prepared to let this new strength loose. A dozen white darts of flame flickered to life in the air around the elemental. They were so small and unassuming, strangely dim in the brightness of the day and the haze of heat around them.
With a sigh of relief Grillby released the fiery projectiles on the line of horseman, feeling the tense build up in his soul relax just slightly. Much like the ones he used while sparring, these exploded into a hail of molten, burning debris on impact. Horses staggered, reared and stumbled. Men screamed and went tumbling into the beasts behind them. The smell of burning hit Grillby in a sickly and ragged mess of metal, perfume and sulfur. It weighted the air and hung heavy in the smoke left in the attack's wake, only stirring when Grillby struck again with another volley of those molten darts.
The loud, thundering charge was quickly fragmenting into a struggle forward as horses wheeled and reared and humans prayed they didn't trip over the fallen beasts and comrades in front of them. But still they came forward, defiant and angry, war cries mingling with the sounds of the burning and dying and the shrieks of injured horses. Grillby waited for them to get nearer before bearing open his soul to them in a wave of white fire, panicked screams answering it as it crashed down on the charging animals and men. The molten attack broke across them and clung to their bodies like burning honey, sending an entire section of the charge collapsing into the blazing grass, a formless mass mixed in a heat so fierce it could melt armor, flesh and bone. Horses that stumbled into it - their momentum carrying them too fast to stop - and pitched their riders as they screamed and floundered on legs too burnt to carry them any further. A familiar crackling sound filled the air - not the sound of burning tinder, but the sound of dozens of souls shattering, some managing to flash a weak color before they splintered apart.
In a handful of minutes Grillby had reduced the charging, raging army into a reeling and panicking mess of men and animals, many now spurring their horses around to flee back in the direction they'd come while riderless beasts kicked and bolted. The elemental fired after them relentlessly, darts and cartwheels of flame tearing after the fleeing army faster than they could run. A triumphant cheer rang out behind him, and the frenetic itching in his soul finally started to settle. Grillby heaved a smoking sigh, letting loose a final volley of burning darts.
A blinding white flash consumed his vision, a roar like thunder wrapping itself around every inch of his consciousness. Grillby blinked, suddenly on his back in the grass, a blurry smear of blue and white sky the only thing he could make out in his dazzled vision. He staggered to his feet, half-blind and confused, the world lilting and bleary with patterns of light burned into his vision.
What in heaven's name…?!
He managed to catch sight of a white flicker, brighter than the flame of the carnage before him and tinted softly blue. Grillby leaped out of the way of it just as it charged for him. He felt more than heard the deafening boom that followed, the concussion ripping through the air and setting his ears to ringing even more than they already were. A white streak of lightning cleaved through the ground where he'd been standing, and Grillby felt a rush run through his tingling soul.
A single human was left charging towards him instead of fleeing madly away - a slowly refocusing blur of dappled grey horseflesh and glittering steel. There was a staff in their hand, blazing a defiant trail of light behind them, a phosphorescent streamer flickering in the wind.
It was a mage, screaming an incantation and digging their heels into their horse's sides to spur it faster. Another arc of lightning blazed from the staff in their hand, stretching jagged and broken fingers down to meet discs of flame Grillby conjured to counter with. They shattered together in a flare of tangled sparks, a roaring peal of thunder splitting the air and shaking the elemental's core with the closeness of the sound. The intensity of it sent a ripple through the field, waves of sound and heat scattering the delicate dandelion fluff in the grass into floating swirls of ashen white. Grillby narrowed his eyes at the human, growled out a tense hiss of smoke, and filled the air with an answering roar of flame.
The human screamed back at him in exasperation, their words lacking the normal grace of an incantation and instead pouring from their mouth in a stream of anger and fear as they wheeled their horse about. The animal was fleet-footed and sure, leaping wildly away from the pinwheels and spears of fire Grillby shot towards it, guided by the well-timed nudges of its rider's heels, knees and bridle. They were maddeningly fast, the animal's frenzied hooves sending clods of dirt and grass flying with every bound. Grillby found himself struggling to hit them, sparks and debris singeing the animal's coat and burning smoke from the human's billowing cape but never catching enough to do damage. The mage steered their horse back and forth across the field twice, clinging close to the animal's neck to make themselves a smaller target, before finally wheeling and retreating.
With a bitter scowl Grillby realized the field was mostly smoldering and empty, only a few remaining horseless humans still scrambling for safety. The mage had been making a distraction. And now they were retreating back into the woods, a streak of grey against the blurring tree line. Grillby shot after them one last volley as they fled, his deadly lances of flame splitting deep scores into the trees and sending sparks and wood shattering into the air. In the mess of crackling wood and debris he finally landed a hit, tearing a burning rip into the horse's shoulder. The animal squealed and toppled over, legs flailing as it rolled and struggled to get back to its feet. When it finally managed to stand, it bucked and kicked before galloping away, riderless, shoulder still smoldering from the searing hit that had knocked it off its feet.
Even at the distance he stood at, Grillby could see the telltale flash of a strong soul shuddering before it cracked apart, dissolving with a pale flicker of crumbling cyan.