Adventures of John: Death of Magic
Chapter 9: Battle of the Frozen Rose
"How dare they treat me like a child!" Hans whined. "I am the rightful king of the Southern Isles, not some common pawn to be used as they please!" He paced around his tent, thinking out loud to himself. "I will not let them take MY gory, MY destiny. I will simply have to take this so called "Mana Heart" for myself… but what can I use as distraction while I steal it?" Just then the cavern was rocked by some great force, stone dust falling over his tent from the distant ceiling.
He smiled slyly, knowing from experience what had most likely caused that tremor. "It looks like my distraction is already here. How convenient."
. . . . .
Sam didn't like these "Rose" people. Not at all. They came into his town and acted like they owned the place, doing who knows what in that mountain of theirs. True, they hadn't exactly done anything particularly bad to them, and they had kept the bandits out of town, but still. This was his town, and these mysterious outsiders didn't belong there. Not that he was going to tell them that of course. They didn't seem like the kind of people who would take too kindly to that, what with their swords and all.
He was in the tavern that day, drowning his worries in far too much mead. When the snow began to fall he wasn't too surprised. Winter was coming on and snow was near due anyways. Sure, it was a bit early, but not by much. When the snow turned into a snow storm he began to look at his tankard with suspicion. How much had he had to drink? But there was no way any amount of mead could make him imagine that cold. Before long he was shivering, the cold having reached into every part of his unprepared body.
He heard exclamations of fear and shock from outside, and against his better judgment he went to take a look. The snow was already several inches thick on the ground, but that wasn't what froze him in his tracks. What froze him in his tracks were the massive goliaths marching down towards his little town, wielding frightening weapons of ice that matched their own frightening forms. At this point he was certain that he had far too much to drink, and that once he went to bed he would wake up with all of this gone. And then people started vanishing.
One by one the townsfolk vanished with a flash of golden light, leaving nothing behind. The only ones not affected were the Rose soldiers, suddenly finding themselves the only ones in the town. Before long Sam was the only villager left, and then golden light enveloped him and he was suddenly somewhere else, surrounded by the other townspeople.
"That's all of them," a strange man in golden armor told a beautiful woman in an icy blue dress. The man turned towards Sam, smiling at him. The smile was probably meant to reassure him, but the man's strange golden eyes only confused poor Sam all the more. "Your town is safe," the man told him. "Now the Rose have a reckoning to deal with."
. . . . .
John had rescued the villagers, teleporting them out of the town to keep them away from the battle. Now it was up to them to stop the Rose. More importantly, it was up to her to create their army. John was powerful, but one thing he couldn't do was create life. Any soldiers he made would require him to focus his attention on them. Any distraction would scatter them upon the wind. No, this was her responsibility. But that didn't mean it was one she enjoyed.
When she was younger, she did everything that her parents told her to, because she believed that they knew best. She locked herself away in her room and rarely even spoke to Anna again despite how much she desperately wanted to. These soldiers needed that level of blind obedience, so she was forced to delve back into her memories of all those years alone. And it hurt. It hurt so much.
It wasn't just that she had to look back at those memories. These soldiers that she was creating trusted her implicitly. They believed that she knew what was best, and even though she was sending a great number of them to their deaths, they still went. They were living beings now, and she was sending them to their deaths. But what other choice did she have? She was the only one who could do this. So she kept making more, until there was a sea of icy soldiers pouring down into the hillside toward the Rose's mountain fortress.
. . . . .
The Rose soldiers outside the fortress had no idea what hit them. One moment they were patrolling the town, making sure that none of the villagers did anything out of line, and then it was snowing and people were vanishing before their very eyes. When the snow soldiers charged them they fought back, but were quickly overwhelmed by the larger, more powerful, and far more numerous foe. Those directly outside the fortress gates banged on them frantically, calling for those inside to let them in. They managed to get inside, but those wooden doors did little to protect them.
There was a massive crash and the wood split, but the doors held. A dozen Rose soldiers attempted to brace the door, putting all their weight against it. The next crash sent them all flying, splitting the wood yet again. The soldiers rushed to brace the doors again, only for the wooden barriers to explode inward, shards and splinters of wood flying everywhere as the wave of armored snowmen charged into the cavern. The Rose camp below was in turmoil, unprepared soldiers and manahunters frantically putting on their weapons and armor and charging into the fray.
If they expected the snow soldiers to use the stairs, they were sorely mistaken. They jumped off the small cliff in waves, landing with successive thuds and charging at the fanatics. However, despite the surprise of the attack, the Rose were professional soldiers who had trained for years. They met the icy tide with a wall of iron, and before long they were accompanied by whizzing arrows and bursts of magical energy. The magical creatures imprisoned in the spiked ditch were released on the weaponized snowmen, their enchanted manacles compelling them to do as their Rose masters commanded.
Distracted as they were by the army of deadly snowmen, the Rose had no idea that their greatest threats were passing right under their noses. Merida, Elsa, and I appeared at the edge of the pit, staring down at the darkness below. "I guess it is time for us to see what all the fuss is about," I told them.
"Well?" Merida asked impatiently. "We don't have all eternity, now do we? Let's hurry it up! We've got a world to save."
Elsa chuckled. "I like you. You should come along on these adventures more often."
"Alright, enough girl talk," I told them. If they started telling each other about how annoying I was, I was going to blow a gasket. "Let's get this show on the road." I waved my hand and conjured a floating platform, gesturing at the others to get on before stepping on it myself. I then added handrails, smiling grimly. "Better hold on." Once they had done so the platform dropped, plummeting deep into the pit, a shriek accompanying us on the way down.
. . . . .
This wasn't how today was supposed to go. They were supposed to finish their digging today and finally get their hands on the Mana Heart. With the Mana Heart in their possession, they would have used its power to destroy all who stood in their way and eliminate magic not just from this world, but from ALL worlds. And she was watching all those plans fall to ruin because of an army of snowmen. She could not let that happen. There was too much at stake to let this defeat her.
She was just about to join into the battle when a soldier raced over to her, bowing low. "Magus Magda!" the soldier declared. "The Exile King has left his tent! No one knows where he has gone to."
"That coward fled the moment trouble started," she spat. She was about to say more but paused, thinking. Despite his strange penchant for singing, Hans was no fool. He was a snake, and he wouldn't let a chance like this slip past him. But a chance to do what? Her eyes were slowly drawn towards the pit and the treasure hidden beneath. He wants the Mana Heart for himself! she realized. "Join the battle soldier," she told the messenger. "I have a snake to deal with." With that she vanished, reappearing at the edge of the pit.
"I will not let a spoiled brat take this from me," she hissed, glowing with azure energy. "I shall see that this 'king' learns the error of his ways." She then leapt off into the pit, the glowing aura around her giving her control over the speed of her fall, almost as if she were flying.
. . . . .
While everyone had their own individual crises, the battle still raged. The front lines were a mess of blood and snow, and while the Rose were more numerous than the snow warriors at the moment, they were not nearly as deadly. The enchanted arrows of the manahunters managed to shatter some of their icy armor, but did nothing when they sunk into their snowy flesh. The swords of the ordinary Rose soldiers failed to break through the icy armor, and stabbing the snowmen did nothing. Defeating one required a coordinated effort, with a manahunter shattering the armor and Rose soldiers cutting off the creature's limbs.
The only humans capable of destroying the creatures on their own were the Rose magi, their spells turning the snowmen into nothing more than piles of snow. Of course, humans weren't the only beings under the Rose's thrall. Hundreds of shackled magical creatures taken from the Rose's own world swarmed over the snow warriors, from faeries and sneevils to togs and gorillaphants. The massive half-gorilla, half elephant monsters smashed the snow soldiers with their massive fists while packs of the part tiger, part dog, part lizard togs ripped them to pieces and sneevils and fairies worked together in fae ambushes.
. . . . .
When James had joined the Rose he hadn't wanted any of this. He had just wanted to find justice for his mother, who had been killed when he was only a child, when the mad dragon Akriloth burned their village to the ground. She had only been one of many in his village to die. But he hadn't signed up for traveling to other worlds and killing everything that had magic. He most certainly hadn't signed up to fight a war against an army of bloodthirsty snowmen. He didn't understand any of this. He just wanted to return home.
In the midst of the battle he spotted the gates to the fortress, still wide open from the snowmen's initial entrance and now completely unguarded. If he could make it out those doors, he had a chance to escape all this madness. He was skilled with a blade, he could become a hired sword for some rich nobleman and get enough money to live comfortably. He didn't know this world, but it couldn't be too different from his own. He just needed to get out those doors.
He dodged under the sweeping blade of one of the icy warriors and made a run for it. He ducked to escape a blast of energy from one of the magi that had been directed towards one of the ice monsters and jumped to the side to avoid one of the massive gorillaphant fists. He dodged around several dozen more of the snow creatures, and somehow, by some strange miracle, he got through, reaching the steps leading to the gates. He rushed up the stairs with glee, getting so close to freedom he could feel the sunlight on his face.
Suddenly an arrow pierced his left thigh, dropping him to the ground. He looked down in shock and horror as deadly poison began to spread through his veins from the wound. I was so close! But he would never walk through those doors. On the other side of the cavern one of the manahunter leaders pulled out another arrow, watching the remaining Rose troops closely. "No deserters."