Chapter 3: Sneak Attack
It came just as the sun set on the Kingdom of Baron. There was no warning, no alarm. All that came to be was surprise and chaos, and nothing would ever be the same. The attack came from the east, over the wide, expanding ocean. Their numbers were more than anyone had ever seen for well over a decade, as they filled the sky with dark shadows that seemed endless and foreboding. Their attack was like that of a fierce storm that appeared out of nowhere, with nothing but destruction on its mind, and death on its breath.
Now all is in tyranny.
"What is the status of the Red Wings?" Cecil asks quickly.
"We have thirty ships on outpost duty," replies one of the lieutenants next to Cecil.
"Fifteen are on maintenance, another fifteen on off-continent reconnaissance, and twenty on the ground ready for launch."
"Launch those ships immediately!" Orders Cecil.
Lightning rips through the night's sky with a terrible brightness; streaking towards the ground and setting a few trees into flames.
"Get those cannons set on the ramparts as quickly as possible," Cecil can feel the sweat start to run down his temple as he yells out his orders. "Launch the signal flares! Hurry!"
As commanded, the men standing upon the castle towers launch flares in three directions--one towards every military outpost. The flares are used to signal that the kingdom is under attack and that military help is needed immediately.
"I hope they arrive soon." Says a slightly stout soldier standing next to his king. His mustache moves to and fro with every word spoken. His belly bulges over the thin belt stretched around his waist.
"We've no time to worry about that now Gestahr. Grab all the soldiers that you can muster and head for the town. Get as many of the townspeople into the castle as quickly as possible," Cecil speaks with an unwavering voice, one of strength and courage. "Protect them with your lives!"
Gestahr quickly salutes.
"For the Kingdom of Baron my liege!" And with that, he is off to battle; ten of his subordinates hastily follow him.
Cecil eyes the clouded sky with a sense of terror.
"Wings...numerous..."
They fly around in circles above the town, the darkness hiding their features, yet their cries are that of hate and death. Dread starts to fill Cecil's heart as he hears these horrendous voices. He looks down upon the castle grounds as the many soldiers of Baron's army leap forth towards the city. Their armor moving in unison as they bellow a cry of their own--one of courage and honor. Cecil then looks to the west side of the castle as twenty airships prepare to launch into the sky's dreaded night. The soldiers scamper about in a hurried and disorderly fashion, much to Cecil's dismay.
"Too slow, too slow," Cecil whispers. He looks towards the western horizon, the full moon glaring at him, like a God staring down at his servant. "Where are the reinforcements?"
Another cry is heard and Cecil looks back towards the blackened heavens. Never in his life did Cecil think he would live to see another day such as this.
"Stay strong my children." Cecil's eyes widen, as his heart seems to stop for a split second. The saliva that has gathered in the back of Cecil's throat now makes it's way down it with a tightness that seems to choke him at the same time. With one short breath, Cecil whispers a solemn prayer, his gray hair blowing within the harsh winds. He eyes the shadows in the sky in their clustered formations and circular movements, until Cecil finally knows what's next.
"Here it comes."
"Nanny, keep the children locked in the basement." Rosa speaks with haste as she gathers her healing potions and magic dust. Her long, golden hair is tied back into a ponytail, her crown sitting on the bedroom dresser.
"I'm coming to help mom! I want to fight with dad!" Jero grabs one of his father's many swords from the rack hanging in the master chamber. The sword reverberates as the tip hits the stone floor. Jero struggles to lift it up.
"Jero put that down immediately and do as I say!" Rosa's eyes speak for themselves as she stares down at her oldest son. "This isn't a game Jero, this is real," Rosa throws the sword to the side and grabs Jero by the shoulders. "Your not ready yet son. Your time will come when it comes. Until then you're to watch over your little brother and keep each other safe, understand?"
Jero can see the emotion in her dark blue eyes, the fear and worry. It's painful for Jero to see his mother in such a manner, and he thought it best not to push the subject any further.
"Do you understand Jero?" Rosa repeats.
"Yes ma'am." Jero looks downward as he walks towards Nanny, Puvol holding her hand with tears in his eyes.
Rosa looks towards her eldest child with somber eyes. She caresses Sylia's face with a mother's care. Sylia always stood brave no matter what the circumstances, no matter what the risk. At times it served as a mask for what she was really feeling, but in her heart Rosa knows what Sylia is capable of doing. That's why she relies on Sylia the most.
"Keep them safe Sylia." Rosa's voice is soft but steady.
"I will mother." A single tear streaks down Sylia's pale cheek. Then she quickly turns towards her brothers and takes her place next to Nanny.
As Nanny walks the children toward the basement, Puvol turns to look at his mother one last time with his wide, brown, tear-filled eyes.
"Be safe momma!" Puvol waves emphatically, his little legs moving rapidly to keep up with Nanny's pace.
"I will little one!" Rosa's eyes water as she sees her children disappear around the corner of the hallway. "I'll try." She whispers.
With that, Rosa knows what she must do. She quickly rubs her eyes and runs towards the castle's main staircase and up to the main balcony. All within the castle are in a panic, with every servant screaming or crying out in fear. Dishes hit the floor, people run into each other; it's a mess made of chaos and terror.
Rosa bursts through the door of the balcony as one of her white magic students waits to meet her on the other end. The expanse of the castle's main balcony is filled with white-robed magicians holding their medallions and magic pouches. A white aura can be faintly seen over the entire area, as these sorcerers prepare to protect the castle; their cream-colored robes ripple and sway with rapid force.
"All are present and accounted for My Lady Rosa." The student bows quickly as she says this, her black hair blowing within the wind of chaos.
"Very good Merrilyn. Tell everybody to prepare themselves, quickly. We'll need every ounce of strength from everyone if we are to 'shell' the entire castle." Rosa looks upward at the flying menace that is ready to pounce on Baron's civilians. At this point, all Rosa can think about now is her husband, years removed from his last great battle.
"Come back to me my love." She whispers to herself.
Their attack is swift, and their strength is pronounced. The first wave hits the town like a battering ram, sending people and supplies flying to the winds of destruction. Twelve enormous ravens swoop down with a wingspan of over twenty feet each. Each raven includes a single imp rider equipped with a bow and many arrows which they let loose throughout the entire town. The townspeople flee for their lives in all directions, many seeking refuge in their houses.
To this, the enemy has an answer. The pudgy, little imp riders ready their bows and arrows, and steer their menacing winged monsters towards the occupied housing. The tips of the arrows, covered in gasoline soaked cloth, are set ablaze. With a sturdy pull, the imps aim their weapons of death at the red, wooden roofs and let their blazing arrows fly. They light up the night's sky with a deadly display of bright orange and yellow. A thin trail of smoke follows as the arrows hit their marks setting many of the town's houses bursting into flames. Screams are heard within as the great winds help the fires to spread, forcing people to escape their houses, and making them vulnerable to the enormous ravens hovering above.
"To the castle! Everyone to the castle!" Screams a soldier on horseback. Many others follow him as they start the evacuation. The soldiers quickly make their way throughout the town, trying to protect every citizen they can. Over fifty of Baron's archers set themselves up around various parts of the city, taking aim at the gigantic beasts swimming throughout the cold, black night. Arrows are let loose in an unrelenting volley, one after the other. Three ravens hit the ground with an enormous thud, one crashing through the roof of a weapons shop. The imps are thrown off their rides, screaming to the heavens as they plunge more than fifty feet to their deaths.
A second volley of arrows flows through the cold, crisp air; three more ravens fall.
Another horrendous cry is echoed within the sky as the second wave is launched. Streaks of brown come crashing down on the soldiers and townspeople as a flock of white-tipped eagles make their attack, while another twenty ravens come swooping around the perimeters of the town, boxing everyone in. It's like a shooting gallery now, with imps spearing the crowd of people with arrows, one after the other. Women scream with a frenzied panic, children fall to the ground with tears in their eyes.
The soldiers on horseback do their best to keep the eagles at bay. These deadly birds soar above the town with a wingspan of ten feet each. Then without warning, they tuck their wings in and dive. Their yellow beaks, open in anticipation for a kill, are strong enough to take apart mostly anything. But human flesh is the order of the day, and pain is the rate that pays.
"Take cover!" A soldier yells out. "We need reinforcements!"
As if his prayers were answered, a loud war cry can be faintly heard within the gale-like winds. A few seconds later, the cry is more pronounced as the castle's army leaps forth into battle. Their march is thunderous, and their loud voices speak to save the day. The royal crest of Baron adorns the chest of every soldier's armor; their weapons set for the onslaught. Arrows are sent flying, spears are let loose, and swords are waved through the air. The enormous Baron Army breaches through the enemy wall, with a fierce retribution.
"Get as many of the townspeople as possible to the castle quickly!" Orders Gestahr.
Some of Gestahr's soldiers attempt to cover the townspeople with their shields, hoping to protect them from any arrows or flying debris, while the rest focus on the enemy.
"Push them back men!" Gestahr points with his sword. "Force them to the back of the town!"
Four eagles swoop straight through the middle of the engaging army with such velocity that could rip huge trees into two; or in this case, armored soldiers. The army splits into all directions from the force of the attack, which kills six men and injures a dozen more. Gestahr, thrown to the ground from the impact, stands up and continues barking orders with blood trickling down the front of his plated armor.
"Captain!" Gestahr looks towards a soldier who's checking on one of the dead bodies. "Get your men to the east side of town and spread them out. We need to have a wider range of attack and make them take us out one by one instead of by groups, you understand?"
The Captain nods and starts to carry out his orders.
Gestahr takes a look around at his troops, especially the ones lying dead on the ground. We're going to take a beating, he thinks to himself. We stay in the middle of this much longer and we're liable to--
"General Gestahr, look!"
Gestahr looks up as the enemy's remaining forces swoop upwards towards the shadows still hovering in the sky. The brownish feathers of the eagles are quickly enveloped in black as they melt into the dark sky. Thunder booms throughout the land. Then as quickly as they disappeared, the eagles reappear, with greater speed and greater numbers. Thirty of them to be exact, and aimed straight for the heart of the army.
"They're gonna hit!"
Their strike is tremendous and merciless. Weapons and shields are flown to oblivion, as the soldiers' armor does nothing to stop the feel of impact. Sixty-seven men die within this one attack--men with families, men who fought in the Great War, men who only became soldiers just days ago--and through it all, Gestahr's body, lying blood-soaked and lifeless in the town square, is left to serve notice that a new war has been waged. Gestahr's mighty broadsword, just inches away from his hand, lying there as cold and broken as it's owners body, will never speak another word of battle; another fallen war hero, in a war that has only begun.
Amongst all this chaos and tyranny, most of the townspeople escape towards the castle, whose soldiers fire cannons in the air at the shadows still hovering high above. With all of the town's citizens either escaping or lying dead in the streets, the remaining soldiers retreat towards the castle's protective walls. And with that, the battle's location shifts as well.
"Fire!" Orders Cecil. Another volley of cannons is launched into the flock of shadows amassed in the sky. "And get those damn airships off the ground for Baron's sake!"
With that order, two airships finally take off. Baron's air force were busy with things like working out, or taking naps; many were in the middle of their dinners and were taken completely off guard by the attack, hence the slowness in their battle preparations and lift off. Two are up, but eighteen are still on the ground.
Those ships on the ground are vulnerable, Cecil thinks to himself as he watches the two ships that took to the sky make their attack.
"Where are the reinforcements?" Cecil eyes the sky beyond and around the land, but not a sign of help can be seen. "Fire more flares! We need those airships here immediately!"
Just one level down from where he's standing, Cecil can see the castle's main balcony. About forty of the Baron's white magician's have come together to perform a spell that they all hoped would never be needed. Their white robes flutter rapidly with the intense winds flowing from the sky. Their heads are bowed down in thought, their hands brought together in prayer. Cecil prays as well. Save us all, he thinks as he eyes his wife standing at the forefront of the group. Let our union survive this catastrophe my love--another thought, another prayer.
"My lord, the shadows--" says one of the soldiers at Cecil's side.
Just as the two airships move within firing range the shadows disperse in all directions, now filling the entire heavens with swift movement, yet no attack is made. Yet as this happens, Cecil notices something very peculiar.
"No clouds?" Whispers Cecil to himself. Darkness, and seeming emptiness from what there once was, and then a realization occurs. The darkness starts to take shape and form, for emptiness it is not, yet more shadows much greater in size—four shadows to be exact. A piercing cry, enough to make the eardrums hurt, is heard throughout the land. The large silhouettes float closer to the coming airships, their features slowly revealed by the moonlight.
"By the heavens." Cecil whispers to himself, stunned by the spectacular sight.
A tower guard stands next to Cecil, awed at what his eyes are taking in.
"My lord, what do we do now?"
Cecil, unable to take his eyes away from this new threat, says but one word.
"Pray."
Two red, one green, and one blue--four dragons altogether, and a menacing look on each of them. Their yellow eyes gleam in the light of the moon, their enormous claws open and close in anticipation, their long necks sway back and forth as their scales ripple with each movement. The dragons' glorious wings, over thirty-five feet across, flap with the strength and might of over a hundred soldiers, and with the intensity of a tornado. Yet as big as they are, they move with such grace and deadly elegance to put you into a trance.
Cecil shakes off this site and begins to bark orders to his men.
"Get my flagship ready immediately." He tells the soldier behind him.
"My lord...?"
"Do it!"
"Yes my liege!" The soldier runs as fast as he can towards the back of the castle. Ten soldiers follow his lead.
"You there!" Cecil points to the soldiers manning the cannons. "Fire at will! Don't let up! We need to keep them at bay until the mages protect the castle!"
"Yes sir!" The soldiers load every cannon on hand and fire several volleys at the deadly dragons, all of which miss their mark.
"Reload quickly!"
The dragons pay little or no attention to the exploding cannon balls around them, yet they seem fixed on the airships that are fast approaching. Then suddenly, with tremendous speed, one of the red dragons swoops towards the lead airship; it's wings ripping through the wooden mast causing the airship to falter. The mast hits the deck, killing five soldiers on impact and causing severe damage to the bridge.
"Veer off! Veer off!" yells the captain.
It's too little, too late.
With one turn of it's head and a squint of it's yellow eyes, the red dragon takes in a deep breath and lets out an enormous stream of fire that sets ablaze the entire airship. Many of the soldiers scream in panic and despair as they burn in the searing flames. The engine explodes into nothingness, sending the airship crashing down in a grand fireworks display, lighting up the entire sky, and sending its soldiers to their untimely deaths.
The red dragon seems to smile at the work he has done, enjoying the delight of pure destruction and mammoth chaos. The dragon bellows out an enormous cry of victory, which is quickly cut short by a cannon ball that explodes at the small of it's back. The red wonder falters a bit, mostly by surprise rather than pain as it eyes the second airship not more than fifty yards away.
"Fire!" Yells the captain.
Three shots are fired off the deck. The cannon balls fly with great accuracy and speed; too fast for the surprised beast who takes three shots right to the chest. The dragon's neck snaps upward with full extension as a loud scream is released, causing fire to trickle out of it's gaping mouth. Its wings suddenly have no energy to perform as the red beast starts a free fall to the ground below. As it somersaults downward, the red dragon gets a hold of itself and begins to beat its wings again, stopping short of hitting the rain-soaked plains. The dragon hovers just twenty feet above the ground while it tries to get its bearings.
"Don't let up on it!" Cecil shouts. "Keep it down there! Keep firing at it men!"
All the castle cannons are now locked onto the single red dragon. One after another, the cannons spew out their destructive counterparts. The red dragon's eyes bear witness to the twelve cannonballs locked onto it, and that would be the last site it sees. Each cannonball hits its mark, ripping the scales and flesh of the beast, causing it to scream out with tremendous force. Fire is spit out from the dragon's mouth uncontrollably, setting the surrounding forest into a blaze of flames. Four holes are punctured into the beast's wings as green blood oozes out of its wounds profusely. With no strength, and no life left, the dragon crashes to the ground with a great thunder. One last smoking breath, and the beast is dead.
"One down." Cecil says to himself.
Then the sky lights up once more as a tremendous explosion rings through the air. The second airship bursts into flames as the second red dragon lets loose a volley of enormous fireballs. Most of the airship is destroyed in midair as the rest of the pieces are blown in all directions.
Cecil's heart sinks to his stomach knowing full well that the next attack will be on the castle itself.
"Please God..." Cecil whispers.
As if his prayers were answered, the sound of an engine can be heard in the distance; accompanied by many more a few seconds later. Cecil looks toward the western sky as seven airships make their way to the castle.
"The reinforcements." Cecil smiles slightly for a second, grateful of the sight he now beholds. But that is quickly cut short by a scream from the sky. The attack on the castle has begun.
Eagles, imps, and ravens make their way around and about the castle, landing anywhere and everywhere. All of Baron's remaining army now fight for their lives and the lives of their people. Many of the enemy units land in the castle's square searching for the remaining townspeople who sought refuge in the castle.
"Lieutenant!" Cries Cecil.
"Yes my lord." Answers a man standing upon one of the castle's walls.
"Get your unit and protect the mages, now!"
"Yes sir! Unit four follow me!" The lieutenant's men follow his lead with haste. Because of the lengthy preparation of the spell being cast by the white magicians, protection is needed to ensure that the spell will work; for any loss of a mage could mean that the spell will not have the same effect.
"Protect them with your lives men!" The soldiers surround the mages, weapons in hand, ready to do battle.
Then, without warning, a gigantic fireball slams into the side of the castle. Stone and mortar are obliterated, leaving a gaping hole in the southern wall—the wall that holds the main balcony up. Cecil eyes the red dragon in the sky as it takes in a deep breath to let loose another ball of flame.
Without hesitation, Cecil closes his eyes and begins a reflection spell, hoping he can get it off in time. Cecil concentrates and whispers, hands closed together. He hears the red dragon bellow out, and Cecil knows that the dragon's ball of destruction is on its way. Cecil moves his lips quickly, opens his hands and stretches his arms towards the congregation of mages. With one last word a stream of white light is emitted from his hands, which creates a half sphere around the magicians. But before it can fully be formed, the fireball hits it with full force. Instead of being reflected back at the dragon, the fireball explodes against the wall of light sending fire and flames about the entire balcony. A soldier, standing near the balcony wall, is set afire, and in a daze of panic, falls off the balcony to his death. A few of the white mages fall to the stone floor, but quickly stand to continue with their spell. The soldiers around them continue on with their efforts to protect the mages from the eagles and ravens swarming the castle.
"That gave them enough time." Cecil says, as the seven airships get into firing range and attack the three remaining dragons. As if the tide were turning, nine of the eighteen airships remaining on the ground begin their launch.
All of a sudden, a white light surrounds the entire castle. At first it is faint, then it quickly generates into a more solid form creating a great dome of solid light around the castle. The red dragon fires another volley of fireballs that harmlessly explode against this white shell of light, causing the dragon to scream out in frustration.
"Okay, here we go." Cecil says with greater enthusiasm. He runs quickly towards the back of the castle, passing by the numerous soldiers and enemy units engaged in deadly combat. Many of his soldiers are strewn about the castle's floors, cold and lifeless. But now was not a time to mourn. Cecil reaches the castle's northern wall and looks over it to see five airmen on the ground, standing near a large wooden platform that's almost as long as the entire castle.
"Is my flagship ready?" Cecil yells.
"Yes my lord, final preparations are finished."
"Get it up then."
"Yes sir!"
With that, an alarm is sounded as the wooden platform splits open, like two drawbridges being closed at the same time in opposite directions, lifting upwards with the sound of many gears moving all at once. The platform gives way to a large hole in the ground that's filled with sounds of machinery. Then darkness gives weigh to light as Cecil's enormous flagship speeds it's way out of the underground hangar. The ships twelve spinning propellers create gigantic gusts of wind. They work in unison to lift the humongous machine into the air. Cecil makes a great leap onto the airship as it makes it's way past the balcony.
"Alright, let's get this thing moving!" Cecil speaks to the more than fifty men controlling the flagship. "We're going to get right into the thick of it!"
With that, Cecil's flagship makes its way to the battle fought in the air. Explosions and debris fill the night's sky. Cecil takes notice that the second red dragon has fallen, lying lifeless on Baron's plains not too far from the first dragon. But he also serves notice to the fact that only seven of the sixteen airships that took flight are left.
"Cecil, try to get us as close to the dragons as possible."
Cecil turns in surprise to the voice behind him.
"Rydia? You shouldn't be up here." Cecil's concerned voice has merit, but Rydia would have none of it.
"I thought I could be of some help and there's not much I can do about these big lizards down on the ground," Rydia's eyes are fixed on the two beasts hovering in the air. "Besides I have the perfect spell to counterattack with."
"Alright. Then let's do it my friend," Cecil knows what Rydia is capable of. Over the years, Rydia has done nothing but increase her black magic ability. It would be safe to say that she is the most powerful black magician on the planet. Even if Tellah were alive today, his powers would shade in comparison to hers because of her ability to 'call' worldly beings to aid her in battle. "Get us as close as you can to those dragons Admiral!"
"Yes sir!"
Cecil's flagship increases it's speed, the sails on all three of the enormous masts on the ship are stretched to their limit. All twenty-four cannons located all over the ship are ready for battle. Cecil looks to his right at Rydia, her eyes closed and hands together. Her soft rose petal lips whisper words of magic, her emerald green hair flows with the winds, as does her dress.
Cecil's eyes now glare at the enemy. The blue dragon takes in a deep breath as the air seems to swirl around it. A bright, luminescent light outlines the beast for a split second, then it exhales with enormous force as a stream of searing ice breaks through the sky. Two airships are caught in the wave of splintered ice that bores through them like a drill, cutting its way from one end to the other.
"Are we in firing range Admiral?" Cecil asks.
"Yes sir!"
"Then I want you to steer left and fire the cannons on the port side on my mark."
With that order, the flagship leans to the left. Every man attending a cannon signals they are ready.
"Fire!" Yells Cecil.
Twelve cannons are let loose, the force of which causes the flagship to shake and shudder a little. The cannonballs seem to take an eternity to reach their targets.
"Switch to the starboard side and fire the other twelve as soon as you can!" Cecil says.
But the dragons seem to be ready. The first four cannonballs are bounced harmlessly away as the blue dragon swings it's spiky tail through the air, while the green dragon spews out an enormous cloud of vapor that causes the cannonballs to explode in mid-flight. Now all eyes are on Cecil's flagship as the two dragons see something new to play with.
"We're in trouble." Whispers Cecil to himself.
Just as his thoughts turn to Rydia, she stretches her arms upward towards the heavens and yells out.
"Sus E Ale Neo-Bahamut!"
Suddenly, thunder and lightning surround the two dragons, as a ray of light breaks downward through the clouds. What comes out of it is awe-inspiring as a gigantic red dragon bursts through the light with a fierce roar and a wingspan of over one hundred feet. The two dragons seem to be stunned by this massive wonder as they do nothing but beat their wings and watch; watch as the dragon Bahamut stretches it's long neck towards them and opens it's mouth. Numerous beams of light gather together to form a small ball of energy that grows very rapidly at the forefront of Bahamut's gaping mouth. All of Bahamut's scales ripple to and fro like a red wave. It's yellow eyes squint in anger towards the green and blue dragons. Then with a loud blast, a stream of intense light streaks through the air and hits the smaller dragons head on. The sky seems to break apart as the pure energy from the beam causes the clouds to shatter and disappear. The green and blue dragons scream out in an ugly and horrendous voice. The beam lasts for a good five seconds before it dissipates. And as quickly as Bahamut arrived, so does it fly away, leaving the other two dragons to tumble down to the ground below, already lifeless.
Rydia falls to her knees, most of her energy expired from the complexity and strength of her spell. Cecil falls to her side and cradles her in his arms. Her eyes are barely open as Rydia can just make out the look of relief on Cecil's face.
"You did it my friend. You saved us," Cecil gives her a kiss on her forehead. "We owe you our lives Rydia. Thank you."
Rydia creases a smile through her tired face, happy in the knowledge that she could be of help to Cecil and his people.
"My liege," One of the crewmembers speaks to Cecil from one of the ships balconies. "The rest of the enemy units are retreating sire! We've won!"
Have we? Cecil thinks to himself, knowing full well that the most powerful kingdom in the world--his kingdom--now lays in ruin. The town is a fiery mess, the military is in disarray, and hundreds of his people are probably dead.
"We didn't win," Cecil whispers. "We merely survived."
Rydia looks upward at him. A tear trickles down his face and falls onto hers. Now all that's left is to pick up the pieces and try to discern what the attack was all about. And that is the foremost question on Cecil's mind.