The island was a tiny one in the large chain that humans called the Andrellian Isles. Imposing crags that even the hardiest of seaman would blanch at the sight of surrounded its single small beach. So it was with some surprise that the natives, crustaceans and seabirds for the most part, found unfamiliar figures washed up on their beach.
"Gimme a hand with him, Mikhael," Crayla grunted under the weight of her partner in all things.
Mikhael nodded breathlessly as he wrapped Ramn's right arm across his shoulders. Together they managed to carry the heavy warrior to the dubious cover of a boulder-strewn ditch. They laid him down on a relatively smooth patch of ground behind one of the more stable looking rocks and promptly collapsed onto their backsides. The sun was in the perfect position to offer them shade from its sweltering heat. Summer was definitely not the best time to get shipwrecked on a rocky little island.
All three HomeGuard were sorry sights. Mikhael's formerly pristine jade robes and scarlet headband were soiled with blood, soot, and saltwater. Ramn and Crayla's mithril scale-mail were in similar straits with the exception that Ramn's scale-mail had a huge rent in its side where blood was even now oozing.
"Heal him again," Crayla demanded, glaring at Mikhael and Ramn's wound in turns.
Mikhael, despite having grown into a sorcerer of formidable might, was still slightly intimidated by the diminutive woman. The crimson HomeGuard standard painted onto her eye-patch made it even worse to stare at her single baleful eye.
"My magic reserves are almost gone Crayla. I could barely keep us all afloat long enough to find this island. I'm sorry but he'll have to wait until I can recover. I think he can make it that long. "
Crayla ground a fist into her palm in frustration,"What were those bastards? "
Mikhael shuddered at the mention of the newest enemy of Surdana. The most shocking and horrifying thing was that they were human. Mikhael, Crayla, Ramn and a full platoon of Surdanan sea-soldiers had been sent to check on the Andrellian outpost. No word had been heard for nearly two weeks and that was troubling because there was apparently no reason for it. Their ship had been attacked as soon as it entered the outermost chain of tiny islands. Great four-masted ships, as large as manor houses, had blocked their paths while single-masted ships had quickly closed within boarding range of theirs. Mikhael had fractured several of their ships into splinters before boarders could disembark but even Master Torin could not have continued without imbibing a greater mana potion. The other ships had not even hesitated in ordering their men onto the deck. At least thirty of the strange warriors had made it onto the Surdanan vessel before Mikhael could destroy the other ships. The deck fight would have been decidedly one-sided if it had not been for Ramn and Crayla. Together they had picked off nearly ten on the boarding planks with javelin and crossbow before melee combat ensued. Seeing them in action together had been as breath taking as ever but it had quickly become apparent that these were not normal warriors the heroes faced. Each moved with the grace and confidence of master swordsman and wielded strange arms and armor. The enemy had only come armed with single, slightly curved blades that had but a single cutting edge much like a scimitar. Those blades had looked fragile at first glance but Mikhael remembered seeing one poor sea-soldier's head being cleanly cut from his body with what seemed the minimalist of efforts. Their armor appeared to be lacquered leather and mail that resisted the strongest of blows. Even the mithril weapons that the sea-soldiers had been granted for the mission had a harder time than usual penetrating. In the end only Ramn, Crayla, Mikhael, and a squad of sea-soldiers had remained.
Then someone had cried out in alarm and they had all looked up to see a ballista bolt streaking towards them. Ramn had pushed Crayla away and dived himself. Unfortunately he had been a little too slow and the bolt plunged into his side and pinned him to the deck. He had instantly lost consciousness and only Mikhael's healing powers had saved him from quickly bleeding out. Another warning had been called before Mikhael could do more than that and he had put all his magical efforts into a shield for their vessel. Iron catapult shot and ballistae pounded the shield mercilessly for several minutes that seemed to last an eternity for everyone. A cry to abandon ship had bellowed up from deep within Mikhael and then everyone was fleeing over the sides. Mikhael and Crayla had gathered up Ramn and quickly made their own departure, heavy armor and all. Mikhael had kept them together and afloat before he saw rowboats being dropped by men with heavy nets. So he had let them all sink to the bottom after casting a quick spell to allow them to breathe underwater for a time. The currents had carried them away and into the ocean depths. Once Mikhael had deemed enough distance had been gained he had floated them back to the surface and discovered the island only a few hundred yards away. By then his magic had been running low again and he had no way to replenish it because he had lost his pack in the explosion that had destroyed the Surdanan deep water patrol ship.
So now they were stranded on a tiny, rocky, deserted island with minimal supplies, surrounded by a literal sea of enemies.
It was definitely not out of the ordinary for members of the HomeGuard.
"Do you think any of the others made it?" Mikhael asked, his voice full of guilt.
"Don't blame yourself for the fate of the others," Crayla said, giving him a comradely punch in the arm,"There was little any of us could do at the end. If it hadn't been for your quick thinking we would have been captured or killed. At least now we can call for reinforcements and get those little bastards."
"Most of them were taller than you, Crayla," Mikhael pointed out, trying to keep a smile off his face.
"Hey, I'm a woman, and they're supposed to be taller than me. Give me a- sh!"
Crayla held a hand up for silence and carefully made her way to the top of the ditch on the beach side. Within seconds she was silently scrambling back, Mikhael idly wondered how she did that, and was motioning for Mikhael to help her with Ramn.
"Company," she whispered,"At least three longboats full of fighters and what looked like one of the four-mast's. We've got to find cover. Hopefully we can go to ground."
"Where?" he whispered back, hoping he sounded as calmly as she did,"From what I saw the island is not very big and mostly rock. "
"Rynn once told me that almost all of these islands have surface access points of some kind and that all lead to a series of caverns deep under the sea. If we can get down there we can lose them unless they have scryers."
"I'd say they do. It's the only way they could have found us," Mikhael said, his voice full of recriminations for his blundering. He had been supposed to be the magical protection for the mission and Mikhael felt he had erred badly.
"Pick up the pace. I think I see an opening at the end of this ditch."
The darker pocket of shade was indeed a cave opening and they were just stepping through it when some kind of throwing blade tore into Mikhael's leg. The pain was instant and intense but the sorcerer managed not to cry out.
"Watch him," Crayla said, her heart sounded like it was breaking as she let Ramn go and turned to face their deaths.
Crayla was surprised to face only one of the small warriors who raced forward to meet her at a full sprint. His blade was still in its sheath but Crayla had learned from hard experience, the shallow cut on her arm still throbbed incessantly, that the small men could draw their blades with inhuman quickness. Crayla had lost her longsword, the loss hurt her as the weapon had seen her through countless battles, but she still had her mithril round shield and a wickedly curved knife with a forty-centimeter steel blade. She had barely managed to hold her own on the ship thanks to her diminished depth perception and peripheral vision. Crayla knew that without Ramn's presence she didn't stand a chance unless she did something drastic. So she slipped her round shield from her arm and slung it as the warrior closed within five meters. Despite the element of surprise the strange soldier managed to spin out of the way while still maintaining his forward momentum. His blade was halfway out of its sheathe as he completed his spin only to have a small hand lock his arm against his body. Crayla slid her knife under the softer layer of leather near the midriff and carved a bloody furrow right up into his heart. The bastard still fought to draw his blade even as they fell to the ground. Even in his death throes the warrior struggled mightily hard to cleave her head from her shoulders. Finally he died with what she assumed a curse on his lips.
Something whistled just past Crayla's right ear as she pulled her knife free. Her shield came up and the metallic ping of missiles striking its surface rang in her ear.
"Hurry, Crayla!" Mikhael shouted from the cave entrance.
Crayla sprang backwards into a series of backflips before tucking into a ball and rolling the rest of the way into the cave.
"Back further!" Mikhael shouted urgently and Crayla obediently continued rolling until she collided with Ramn's prone body.
Mikhael shouted what sounded like a word of power and a thunderous crash echoed through the enclosed space. Voluminous clouds of dust rose into the air and obscured the collapsing form of Mikhael just to Crayla's left. She managed to grab his outstretched hand just before darkness settled in over them all. Crayla knew that somehow Mikhael had found the strength to bring down the roof of the cave and now she desperately prayed to whatever gods were listening that Rynn had not been telling a tall-tale. There was no question that Mikhael and Ramn were alive.
No question at all.
Consciousness slowly returned to Ramn and pain as well but that pain was something he had learned long ago to ignore. He wearily opened his eyes and discovered found that it did little to clear the blackness from his vision. There was some light, but it was weak and a pale bluish in color. Ramn knew that he should have known where the light was coming from but his thoughts were still addled.
"So between us, if we ration ourselves nearly to death, we have maybe enough food and water to last four days," that voice made the dread that had slowly begun to creep into his heart fade quickly.
"Yes, but if we can find some source of water down here, I can use my magic to make it fresh. "
"How many kilometers did you say you thought it was to the next island?"
Silence fell for a few moments before Mikhael's soft,"Thirty. "
Ramn could almost see Crayla fingering the flesh just beneath her eye-patch. It was a nervous habit she'd picked up in the years since the injury.
"Thirty kilometers and we have no idea if this cavern will even take us in that direction let alone how far that tunnel goes down. That's just great!"
Ramn coughed and grinned,"At least the situation's improved your disposition. "
Crayla slid to a dusty halt beside him, setting them both to coughing, but neither cared much. The tall, incapacitated warrior and the short, one-eyed she-demon of a fighter both wore the same idiotic grin as they stared at each other. Ramn tried to sit up but the pain that he had been ignoring roared in protest. He flopped back down to the hard soil of the cavern and gasped in pain.
"Easy, Ramn, Mikhael's still not recovered enough to cast a healing spell on you," Crayla said, gently moping his brow of the sweat that had sprung up there.
"I should be dead and he can't cast another one on me so soon or I will die from the shock. Reach inside my chainmail, near my heart," Crayla almost eagerly did so,"Feel that pouch, get it, be careful not to burst it."
Mikhael came over as Crayla opened the pouch to examine the contents. The pouch was full of a pinkish powder that glistened slightly even though it was not the slightest bit damp.
"What is it?"
Ramn grinned," Powdered healing potion. The Jade Sorceress gave me that batch just before we left Capital. It's part of her first batch."
Crayla pursed her lips to spit, remembered their lack of water, and grimaced instead,"How come she didn't give me a pouch?"
"You hate her remember?" Mikhael reminded the fiery woman.
"She wears less than a trollop!" Crayla exclaimed, fuming as the men cast amused glances at her.
Crayla and Jade's, as her friends called the Sorceress, feud had become the stuff of legend among the HomeGuard.
"Anyway, you can mix a pinch of that with a skin of water, and you've instantly got a lesser healing potion. The more powder you use the more powerful a potion. She hadn't exactly worked out the proportions. The wonder of the powder is you sprinkle it on a wound, or a bandage, to externally heal the wound. So the rest of the body isn't jolted by the magic," Ramn paused to cough painfully for a few moments," Now come on, because those little bastards don't seem like the type to give up and I'd like a bit of a lead. "
The trio, with a still tender Ramn clinging to Crayla even though Mikhael would have made the better assistant, cautiously made their way into what seemed to be an open area at the end of the steeply downgraded tunnel. Curiously the tunnel floor seemed to be that way because of what appeared to be an ancient stairwell. None of the three were much surprised though for Golden Age ruins were often found in the most improbable of places.
What they found at the bottom of the stairwell filled them all with a sense of awe.
The three stood at the beginning of a long promenade that was bathed in the eerie blue-green glow of the phosphorescent algae. Lined up on either wall were statues of fantastical beasts that none of them had ever read about. A long row of rearing felines, each standing four meters tall, stood on raised pedestals to their right. On their left, on their own pedestals, were half as many enormous birds-of-prey that closely resembled falcons with wingspans of nearly ten meters. At the end of the promenade was what looked like a collapsed altar and the reason for that collapse was scattered about the room.
Two of the cat-like beasts were pinned to the ground with enormous nets while one of the large falcons had been pinned to the ceiling fifteen meters above their heads by sticky gray webbing. A dozen wartoks held the roaring cats down, the remains of several of their unlucky brethren were sticky smears against the wall, and seemed to having a tough time of it. Scuttling along the ceiling towards the bird-of-prey were enormous cave spiders, the kind that were the bane of any cave-crawling adventurer, and the bird glared furiously at them all. Standing above the cats were two human males in the garb of Golden Age sorcerers and below the falcon was a warrior hefting an enormous javelin. Sitting forgotten at the bottom of the destroyed pile of rubble that had once been an altar were three corpses in the ancient Armor Of The Order. Only a handful of complete sets had even been found and here were three nearly arm in arm. Each of the figures clutched weapons in their bare hands but each seemed to be a walking armory armed with everything from a hand-axe to a wizard's staff. Each of the figures had been webbed in place, probably before their deaths, and filled with arrows, javelins, and even what could have been a spider leg. In addition each of their heads were missing. Whoever had wanted them dead had wanted to be absolutely sure they were dead.
All of this, from the expressions on the wartoks faces, to the growing pools of blood beneath the bodies, was frozen in time.
Then the eyes of each of the three met the eyes of one of the embattled beasts.
Hot pain seared in their eyes, to be replaced by a warm tingling in their minds, and visions came to them. With the visions came fragmented memories and knowledge of events centuries ago. The three bodies had been high-ranking members of the Order that the Dark Union had considered especially dangerous. A plan had been devised to rid them of the threat before the betrayal. The three, close friends, had been sent to the tiny Temple Of The High Guard to ostensibly renew their vows to the Order there. A trap had been laid though and before they could react the three Champions were slain. Their bond-mates had been captured for ritual sacrifice to strengthen the foul powers of their betrayers, acolytes who had been passed up for Bonding time and time again. Something had happened though, some Power had frozen the scene in time, and thus they had remained for centuries.
Then the three members of the HomeGuard had happened upon the scene and they had been recognized.
Raw, primal energy surged through Ramn, Crayla, and Mikhael. It filled them, every fiber of their being, until they felt both stronger and weaker than they ever had before. An intense itching underneath Crayla's eye-patch made her pull it off. Crayla was blinking to clear her eye before she realized that she had opened her long missing organ and she could see from it. Not only that but her vision was far sharper than it had ever been. Ramn and Mikhael both straightened unconsciously as their injuries closed themselves up as though they had never been. Ramn and Crayla turned to look at each other and gasped at what they saw. Their eyes were completely golden in color. Crayla turned to Mikhael and found that his eyes were the same.
"Where did you come from?!" a baritone voice roared angrily at them.
Then the world rushed back to every occupant in the room. The bass roars of the Kath, the felines, and the ear-splitting screech of the Mitok, the falcon, bounced from the walls. The wartoks grunted and roared at their captives, while the spiders continued their inexorable march to the falcon. All three humans had turned to glare at the intruders.
"I don't care where they came from. Take care of-" the bearded wizard never got a chance to finish his sentence thanks to Crayla's blade being buried in his throat.
Crayla had never fathomed throwing an unbalanced knife nearly thirty meters, in dim lighting, even though it seemed much brighter now, and actually hitting her target. But at that exact moment she had done it without the slightest hesitation. From her left and right lightning arched towards the other two enemies and burned them to a crisp. The wartoks, stunned by the sudden demise of their leaders, let just a little too much slack into their lines. The Kath leapt up and became twin whirlwinds of bloody vengeance. Mikhael gestured and the webbing holding the Mitok vanished as if it had never been. The Mitok screeched again as it came free but this time fire burst from its mouth and seared the spiders into the walls.
And as quick as that the ambushers had become the ambushed.
The Kath slowly, and suspiciously padded up to the three humans, while the Mitok settled onto a perch designed for its kind ten meters on the wall closest to Mikhael. All three knew they should have been afraid for their lives but none of them could move a muscle.
Finally the Kath came up to them and began to sniff Ramn and Crayla. The smaller one's head came up nearly to Ramn's shoulder and the size of the creature's fangs was intimidating to say the least. Then Crayla's gave an experimental lick that seemed to startle both it and Crayla.
I know her!
The voice was distinctly female and definitely in their heads.
"Was I the only one that heard that?" Crayla muttered.
Both men shook their heads.
Go ahead, Tyri, give it a try!
The larger of the two, whose head was a few centimeters above Ramn's, growled but gave Ramn a quick lick on the cheek from a surprisingly soft tongue.
I know him! You were right, Kylih, but how can this be!?
This voice was very deep and very male.
You now, Rohk, the female voice, Kylih they assumed ordered.
"Hey!" Mikhael exclaimed as he was levitated up to the fearsome visage of the Mitok.
It sniffed his hair, rooted around in it for a few seconds, before preening its feathers.
The third voice spoke in imperious tones, I can't believe it, but for once the kittens are right!
I hope someone stuffs you one of these days, you old buzzard! Kylih mentally barked, as Mikhael's feet once again settled to the ground.
"Okay, would someone please explain to me just what is going on here?!" Crayla shouted, making the Kath in front of her back up a step at the surprising amount of sound coming from such a small creature.
How are we supposed to know!? Kylih 'shouted' back into their minds, Crayla especially felt as though she was shaking in her boots. I made a guess and it looks like I was right. Can you calm down long enough to listen?
Another outburst was a split-second away from Crayla's mouth when Ramn laid a calming hand on her shoulder,"Forgive my excitable companion. She still hasn't learned to channel all of her energy. We will gladly listen to your theory."
Well, at least one of you can be polite, how it was possible to hear a mental sniff of disdain was beyond any of their knowledge, Your souls once inhabited the... bodies you see back there. Those souls were once our bond-mates. Some celestial Power, maybe a God, maybe some other force, chose to spare us a dishonorable end at the hands of those betrayers. Here we were frozen in time until you three found us and the Bonds were restored.
"Bonds? As in The Bond between Dragons of the Order and their riders?" Mikhael asked, disbelief heavy in his voice.
Yes, human, that Bond, the Mitok, Rohk, answered with a ruffle of its crest.
"I thought that it could only be formed by Dragons of the Order," Ramn said, stretching his injured side with disbelief on his face.
The laughter of all three inhuman beings echoed in their heads.
"What's so funny?" Crayla asked, her brow furrowing with puzzlement.
You mean you really don't know about the other non-human members of the Order? The High Guard? The Mariners? Tyri asked in disbelief.
All of the humans shook their heads in the negative.
It does appear that we have been frozen for far more than one human generation. Rohk said introspectively. My friends I think we have some catching up to do.
Nearly thirty of the strange warriors that had destroyed a veteran Naval crew and its ship were industriously working to clear away the cave-in, when to the shock of the officers watching through spyglasses on the three warships surrounding the island, the blocked mouth of the cave was suddenly cleared by a massive explosion. All of the warriors that had been standing directly in front of the debris were obliterated into bloody chunks nearly instantaneously. The warriors standing to the sides were flicked away like dust motes and some rolled so far that they ended up drowning in the ocean. One forward thinking officer had sent an additional thirty warriors to the island to serve as an assault force. But those reinforcements were sent into coughing fits by the immense cloud of dust that was thrown into the air.
Out of that cloud of dust came four figures. The foremost two were a man and a woman who couldn't have looked anymore different. He was tall, dark-skinned, and possessed a menacing physique. She was short, very pale, and seemed as though a strong breeze would blow her over. They walked with a similarity and synchronicity that was startling though. Each wore ancient plate-and-mail Armor of the Order, with the pale blue and white coloring of the HighGuard, but without the spiky protrusions dragon-riders adorned their armor with. The tall warrior had twin scimitars at his waist, a greatsword on his back, and what looked like a glowing wizards scepter strapped to his left forearm. His companion had an ebony bow with crimson eldritch symbols burned into its surface in one hand, a full quiver against her back, a longsword strapped to her waist, a buckler that throbbed with a strange bluish-gray light at though it were a living extension of her body on her off-arm, and a brace of throwing knives across her chest.
Behind them came two figures out of nightmare. Enormous felines, one much larger and fiercer looking than the other, girded for war. Plates of a flexible blue-gray metal covered their chest, haunches, forepaws, ribs, and even their heads. When the larger roared it was enough to make the strange warriors forget all about their enflamed lungs.
With almost exultant howls the warriors charged headlong at the four figures.
"You have to give it to them," Ramn said, shaking his head slightly,"They have courage."
"It would be better if they had some sense," Crayla said, drawing an arrow back to her cheek.
Ramn hadn't even sensed his partner pulling an arrow from her quiver but that was not the end of his surprises. The symbols along her blow flared to fiery life and a tiny maelstrom of crackling red energy gathered at the tip of her arrow. Then, as quick as a breath, it grew tenfold. Crayla loosed the arrow and an unearthly scream split the air. Ramn's eyes were keener than they had ever been so he saw the arrow pass through a layer of the rushing horde to squarely impale the eye of a warrior who could have been an officer. Then the arrow exploded in a spectacular mix of red-gold energy. Bodies were either incinerated or cast flaming into the air. Before a single flaming chunk of corpse could land, Crayla had repeated the process with three more arrows. Ramn whistled as he surveyed her handiwork. Before the enemy had gained fifteen meters Crayla had reduced the force to a handful of crawling, dying fighters.
Incoming, Kylih's mental voice spoke quite unconcernedly.
Ramn looked up and saw one of the enemy's unnaturally accurate ballista bolts streaking towards him yet again. This time he had warning though and much more power at his command. With a casual wave of his hand the bolt careened end over end back towards the warship.
"I want to go to the beach, Ramn, you never take me anyplace," Crayla said, with an infectious grin.
Ramn shook his head, restraining his own grin because that would just encourage her, and began making his way in the direction she had pointed. All along the way he casually deflected ballistae and catapult shot with waves of his hands. Finally they were at the beach and saw their enemies. Three of the single-masted warships were circling the island like carrion birds circling a grull encampment.
So what do you two plan on doing about them? Tyri asked in his gruff voice.
Ramn shrugged and as usual Crayla spoke for them,"Let our sorcerer take care of it. "
Behind them the island peak erupted in molten earth and a ball of fire shot high into the air. It cooled quickly and was revealed to be the mitok, Rohk, with an exhilarated Mikhael snug in a riders pouch on Rohk's back. Rohk flipped in the air and streaked towards the enemy warships that had foolishly gathered within a few kilometers of each other. Mikhael was ejected, both Ramn and Crayla could see it clearly even though he was nearly three kilometers away, and fell for nearly a hundred meters before coming to a gentle stop just out of catapult range. Clouds, angry and dark, suddenly obscured the sinking sun. Lightning flashed, once, twice, and then in an unending barrage that completely enveloped the three ships. Several figures were levitated to Mikhael before an invisible hand smashed each of the vessels to splinters. There was one section of debris that Mikhael also levitated up complete with its own piece of sail.
I think they'll do, Kylih said, purring loudly and rubbing her huge head against Crayla's unarmed thigh.
Have a little dignity, Kylih, damnit, Tyri said, But you are right. I think they'll do fine as HighGuard.
So what are you human cubs planning to do now? Rohk asked, circling high overhead.
"First we'll question Mikhael's prisoners. Then we'll build a boat and go back to Surdana for debriefing. After that we can propose your suggestion to the Queen." Ramn said, bowing slightly to his Bond-mate.
Tyri let out an involuntary purr that he quickly stifled but that set Crayla and Kylih to a burst of vocal and mental giggles respectively.
"There may be a problem with that," Mikhael said, as he levitated himself and the debris to the beach, but there were no prisoners with him.
"Where are the prisoners?" Ramn asked, frowning at someone he had trouble remembering was technically his superior as magic-users generally outranked any officer below a captain.
"They killed themselves but not before they gloated that Surdana was already falling," Mikhael answered, looking as though he had swallowed trog-bile.
Ramn growled and Crayla ground her teeth in frustration.
"Can you teleport us back, Mikhael?" Ramn asked, but knew the answer even before the sorcerer spoke.
"Too risky. Together you and I certainly have the power now but with no idea what sort of magic is being worked such a feat might kill us before we even reach the castle."
"So all we have is the boat and that'll take us at least two days," Crayla said, struggling not to scream at no one in particular.
We can get you there, Kylih said, her voice smug.
"You heard what Mikhael said about teleporting and only Rohk has wings," Crayla snapped and immediately stroked Kylih's neck in apology.
Don't you humans know anything? Tyri asked, derisively, Get on my back, Ramn.
"Aren't I a little heavy?" Ramn asked, but got on after one quick glare from Tyri.
Crayla mounted Kylih without a word.
The two Kath turned in the direction of Surdana and let out thunderous roars. Kylih and Tyri sprinted at full speed towards that end of the beach. Both Ramn and Crayla tensed in anticipation of hitting the water with the same thought that the Kath couldn't possibly be planning on swimming the entire way. At the waters edge both HighGuard Kath leapt and kept on rising. The Kath didn't fly as so much as run on the air. Each time a paw landed a burst of star-stuff came to life beneath them. Even when they climbed it was as though they were going up a hill. It was not effortless as Rohk's flight but just as exhilarating in its own way.
Crayla let out a whoop of joy as Rohk screeched at them from two kilometers back.
Wait for us you overgrown kittens!
War had once again come to Surdana and once again all its greatest heroes were gathered to face it. This time they had more than just a lone dragon-rider to call upon. Supreme General Dehrimon, his stern features older but still fearsome, and Queen Myschala were the true powers in the throne room but they were overshadowed by the personalities gathered around the long Council chamber. High Marshal Rynn of the New Order Of The Flame radiated a quiet menace that could quell even the Queen with a single glance. Every now and again a burst of emerald magical power would escape from her jade eyes. General Miles of the HomeGuard sat brooding opposite the High Marshal with a sorrowful look in his dark brown eyes. The Jade Sorceress sat with a serenity that, judging from the thin press of her lips, was entirely feigned. Across from the Jade Sorceress, clad in the furs of his native land, was a Huntmaster of the NorthMen. The bald, tattooed warrior seemed almost eager to spill the blood of fellow human beings. Admiral Gant, his head wrapped in a bloody bandage, sat slumped in his chair.
"So," the Queen began after far too long in uncomfortable silence. "Would someone care to begin or should I choose someone?"
Supreme General Dehrimon coughed politely,"The Army can have fifteen hundred or so soldiers on the northern front by tomorrow thanks to the Travel-Nodes. If we cancel our current Expansion campaign and strip the borders down to a bare minimum we can muster an additional three thousand in four days. "
Myschala nodded," And what of the HomeGuard? "
General Miles restrained a sigh as he bowed his head to the Queen,"My Queen the HomeGuard is currently engaged in a holding action against this Empire of the Eternal Sun's armed forces. As of this morning our forces numbered approximately one thousand and we are hard-pressed."
"And what of the Shields?" the Queen asked, her voice steady lest she appear unduly concerned.
"No word, highness, but I won't count either of them out until I see their corpses at my feet," Miles very nearly growled at his Queen.
"How many of your fierce countrymen can we count on, Huntmaster?"
The tattooed warrior bowed his head deeply before speaking,"Five hundred of our fiercest fighters. My Chief would strip our land to come to your aid but we have never been a numerous people and we must be every vigilant against our ancient enemy."
"I understand, Huntmaster, and any aid is very appreciated," Myschala nodded regally in the northerner's direction before turning to High Marshal Rynn,"What of the Dragon-Riders?"
High Marshal Rynn did growl before she began to speak,"Arohk and I, Cadwell and Mhokra, and Tal and Norot are the only Dragon-Riders that we can count on. The Dragon-Mother tells us that the others are under attack by the winged great cats the enemy is using. Several have returned to the Spirits."
The council bowed his or her heads for a moment before resuming the meeting.
"Admiral?" the Queen asked, her voice sounding more strained than ever.
Admiral Gant's eyes were tiny points of hard granite,"Your Fleet stands as vigilantly as ever, my liege, but our numbers have been reduced by more than half. If it were not for the enemy's unnatural accurate missiles we could have routed them before they came within ten kilometers of the coast. "
"I am sure you and your men have done everything in your power to halt the advance of the kingdom's enemy, Admiral," the Queen reassured him diplomatically,"What of the magical missives we sent to the enemy."
The Jade Sorceress' mouth twisted unattractively,"All were destroyed before passing through a kilometer of enemy controlled land."
"What of our magical resources?"
"Of my latest cadre only four of them are ready for active duty. With the loss of Mikhael, who was the most powerful magic-user beside myself not deployed on the Expansion front, we are down to a handful of battle-ready Sorcerers."
The Queen was silent after that and they all knew what she was thinking. The Kingdom of Surdana's position was still fairly precarious despite the ongoing success of the Expansion campaigns. Almost the entirety of the Army was engaged on their southern and western fronts as mankind pushed back its bestial foes. For defense the kingdom had depended almost solely on the HomeGuard and Dragon-Riders. Dragon-Rider Rynn and HomeGuard lieutenants Ramn and Crayla were as much a deterrent as the mightiest army. Their reputations and deeds had spread even to the ranks of their enemies. Some were even calling them the Spear and Shield of Surdana. Now it seemed as though the Shield had broken and the Spear was being sorely used. The enemy was pushing forward with increasing speed every day, breaking through the natural and man-made barriers to their progress with equal ease, and event the staunch defenders in the HomeGuard's morale was failing after the rumors began that their greatest champions had fallen. By the time General Dehrimon's main forces arrived Myschala feared the enemy would be knocking at her chamber door.
Just then one of her aides ran up to her Queen, face flush with exertion and her eyes shining with excitement,"Majesty, we have reports of strange creatures flying towards the Dragon's Gate. Dragon-Rider Tal is escorting them in. "
The Queen stood and relayed the aide's message to her unofficial Council,"I think we should go to meet these strange visitors."
As one they rose and proceeded through a short series of doorways to the landing platform before the Dragon's Gate. The sun was almost set and the world was bathed in fantastic shades of purples, reds, and gold's that seemed to make the scene before them all the more dramatic. Dragon-Rider Tal, clad in enchanted scale-mail armor, swooped down to land atop his massive ebony partner, Norot. Right behind him, seemingly running on a path of starlight came two felines, whose coloring was downright startling, of immense proportions. Atop their backs were two figures in armor that strongly resembled Armor of the Order. Next, and most impressive of all, came a giant bird-of-prey wreathed in flames. The flames were not devouring the avian but instead seemed to be coming from it. It swept over their heads and a flaming ball of golden fire leapt from its head to land only a few meters in front of the stunned Council. The Queen's personal Guard, chosen from among the best HomeGuard, Army, and NorthMen, moved in to block her view. She could see the flaming bird land squarely in the middle of the arch of the Dragon's Gate though.
"Damnit, Mikhael, why do you always have to be a showoff?"
The sound of that voice, always enough to coax a smile on the Queen's face, made her push imperiously through her guards to get a better look at the speaker.
HomeGuard Lieutenant Crayla stood in front of Mikhael and proceeded to dress him down like a raw recruit. It was good-natured though, effectively just a lot of colorful swearing, and Mikhael had a chagrined smile on his face. Then Crayla cut off in mid-tirade and fixed one of the smaller feline creatures with an indignant glare.
"I'm not even thirty, Kylih!"
"Crayla, Ramn, Mikhael! Attention!" General Miles barked, and in the space of a blink the three were lined up in front of the felines at stiff attention.
"Sorry, sir, we-" Crayla's voice was cut off at the gap-jawed stares everyone was giving her,"What is everyone staring at, Ramn?"
"I'm just too pretty, I guess."
A few hours later Ramn was in his tiny room in the HomeGuard's Bastion. He was shirtless, marveling slightly at how many of his aches and lesser scars had completely disappeared while the major ones had shrunken considerably, and in the process off removing his pants when there was a knock at the side-door connecting Crayla's room to his. He answered and was stunned to see her wearing nothing but a cotton shift. A very thin cotton shift. Ramn had seen Crayla naked more times than he could count, most of those times as he frantically tried to plug a hole in her body, but he had never seen her without a weapon in her hand in the past six years. That, more than her state of undress, made her seem far more vulnerable than Ramn had seen her in a long time.
"Can I come in?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft.
"Do you even have to ask?" Ramn asked, stepping aside.
Crayla smiled, her face slightly flushed, stepped inside and plopped down on Ramn's immense bed. It always struck her as funny at how bare Ramn's room was. Besides the armoire there was only the bed and a small writing desk. The bed was a massive four-posted thing that took up the most space by far. Worse it was covered in fluffy, floral-print comforters and thick pillows. It wouldn't have looked out of place in some Lady's manor.
There were a few moments of silence, in which Crayla snatched a few glimpses of Ramn's well-muscled chest, before either of them spoke.
"So to what do I owe the immense pleasure of your company?" Ramn questioned, his eyebrows raised.
Crayla took a few deep breaths before hesitantly beginning.
"I was talking to Kylih and uh, I... uhm, I was... we were..."
"Yes," Ramn gently prodded and was rocked back when Crayla turned to liquid golden eyes on him.
Tears began spilling down her cheeks as her words released in a torrent of emotions,"I love you, Ramn, and we might die tomorrow. We're stronger now but we're not immortal. We thought it was important I tell you. I don't know if we'll make it and I didn't want to die without having ever said it. I mean, you've shown it a million times, but sometimes you're just too damn 'sterious because you've never said it. How come you've never tried to make love to me? Everyone knows men are rutting animals but you've never once hinted like you wanted me. You always said I was the prettiest fighter in a thousand leagues and you never even tried to feel me up. Sometimes I just want you to rip my clothes off and-"
Suddenly Ramn's mouth was on hers and Crayla fairly melted into a puddle of violent, warrior-like, girl-goo. After a few minutes Ramn pulled back breathlessly and began to speak.
"I love you, Crayla. I love you, I love you, I- " this time it was Crayla who literally pounced atop Ramn and pushed his back down against the bed.
"Stop wriggling, I still have something to say," he managed to say after another minute of Crayla's very enthusiastic kisses. We're not going to die tomorrow. I guess I never said it because I thought it was understood. You know I've never been one for emotional displays, except that one time, when that happened," Ramn traced the now very faint outline of the scar that remained from Crayla's maiming. " I never tried to ravish you because I worried about you getting pregnant and I knew you'd never stop fighting even when you were big as a dragon!"
Crayla raised her head from what she had been doing to Ramn's chest and grinned,"There are herbs for that you know and I would to stop fighting. Now take your pants off!"
Ramn grinned," Seriously, Crayla, we're not going to die tomorrow. Tomorrow will be time- "
"-for killin'," Crayla finished as she began to undo his pants with the tip of her tongue hanging from the corner of her mouth.
"Yes, but tonight's time enough-"
"-for fu-!"
Whatever she was going to say was forgotten with the strategic placement of four fingers and a thumb. Then there were no more words... or at least words that were fit for decent company.