1611 G.D( The Great Dissension)
The rain showered the land relentlessly. Dark clouds blot out the sun, veiling the land in darkness--the only light coming from the lightning that brightened the sky-- bringing earsplitting thunder that shook the castle of the Rheatonsey's. At the castle gates, cavalrymen awaited their lord, Engar, under the banner of his house. A black flag with red outlines and the image of a wyvern roaring.
In the castle, Engar Rheatonsey; the new lord, sat in his chambers awaiting news of his wife, and the child that would be born to him, along with his mother and other family members. Engar was worried but for reasons other than the birth of his child. Engar's wife, Cynthia, was welcomed only by a few members of his family. She was put under suspicion due to ties with her family, the Yaguls, who allied themselves with a witch coven to the east of the land of Cittano, a region in the Principality of Selediano which broke away in a bloody rebellion dubbed: The traitor war. With accusations of using magic forbidden for a century, Cynthia was continuously persecuted and was not considered a candidate for marriage. Even though all this occurred, Engar still fell in love with her and made it his priority to be her husband.
On that night, their Suspicions came to fruition. As Cynthia made her final push screaming at the top of her lungs, the baby finally emerged from her womb. The midwives' eyes widened, with some covering their mouths to stifle screams of fear. Laying between her legs a baby boy flailed around, and not a single tear or wail came from the boy, but this wasn't unusual, the boy's eyes were red--a deep scarlet red resembling the color of a rose...or blood. The head midwife ordered one of her subordinates to call upon Engar, and without hesitation, she ran towards the door. She ran towards Engar's Chambers where everyone nervously awaited the news. She opened the door wildly, and with frightened eyes, to tell Engar the news of his newly born child. She gasped for breath as she tried to intelligibly deliver the news.
Engar swiftly arose, "What is it!?... what's wrong!?" He asked nervously.
"The baby is in good health, my lord, but!" She said, her voice wobbling in her throat.
"Say no more, thank you." Engar had a worried look on his face. His heart raced as he held his chin in thought. Yvanna and his other family members looked at each other with surprise before it turned to disgust.
Engar's mother, Yvanna Rheatonsey, strutted up to him with her chin held high in disgust, contorting her face to emphasize how disgusted she was."Engar! Didn't we warn you of this?! You shouldn't have married that witch! That whore!"
"Mother! watch your tongue," Engar snapped. "That is my wife you speak of."Engar held his face as he tried to think of what he should do next. He calmed himself before speaking once more. "I will return to speak with you all soon, wait here." Engar stormed out of the room, his mother's words reverberating in his head as he hurriedly walked down the corridor to Cynthia's chambers. His heart raced and his hands shook as he contemplated what his wife had born to him, he contemplated how this would affect his reputation and the land he inherited.
He reached Cynthia's chambers. He opened the door, heart racing wildly expecting to see a monster in his wife's arms. Engar dropped to his knee's letting out a sigh of relief. His wife looked beautiful; her hair was put into a bun and cuffed with a golden flower clip. His son looked like any normal baby, but the only obstacle halting him from screaming in joy was the eyes of the baby boy.
Engar approached Cynthia's bed with happiness being held back. Cynthia's smile quickly faded into sadness as Engar sat by her bedside quietly, and with a sigh, he spoke. "Cynthia, my love, what has happened to my son? Are the rumors of your past the cause of this?" He asked as sadness contorted his speech.
Cynthia put her hands on Engar's face tears welling in her eyes before streaming down her face. "My love, I am exhausted, so please, I will tell you in time, but I beg of you to have patience."
Engar held his wife's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Ok then, my love, I look forward to our conversation." Engar placed his hand on his tiny son's face and kissed his head. "He's beautiful," Engar said, tears running down his face. Quickly, he wiped away his tears before arising.
"Before you leave Engar, we must give him a name," Cynthia said rising a bit higher on her pillow. He stared at his son for a while before giving his answer. "Zarek, his name shall be Zarek, the name my father once carried with pride." He sighed as he stared at the ground contemplating. "Until I return, my love," Engar said before closing the door.
Engar exited the room and swiftly, returned to his chambers. He flung open the door startling his family members. A Fat and short man stood up from his seat with difficulty. "So, what of the child?" Engar's cousin inquired patting the beads of sweat from his forehead. Engar didn't respond but looked at all of them with furrowed brows. "A male child has been born to me. He has flaws, but he is still my son. If any of you disapprove of his birth, raise your hands so I may see." None of his family members raised their hands...except his mother. Engar set his jaw as he looked at his mother with a scowl that came from the depths of the Shadow Isles. "And why do you disapprove of his birth, mother?"
Her hands trembled as she lowered them. Her voice trembled as she tried to get out her words. "As your mother, and as the former lady of this house I have the right to speak-"
"Answer me, mother!" Engar snapped. "Why do you disapprove, why should I renounce the claim to my son?!"
"Because he and that witch, will be your downfall! Her family murdered your father, what do you think she will do to you?!"
Before Engar could respond a low welp stopped him from uttering another word. Engar raised a finger before sighing. "You will accept my son, or you will renounce your title as a former lady of this house. Now, where is my Fabien?"
A tear ran down his mother's face but Engar stood firm at the choice he made. His mother knelt and picked up his eldest son, Fabien before handing him to his father. Engar held the young boy in his arms tight and whispered, "What are doing here, huh? You were supposed to be asleep." He said before placing a kiss on Fabien's forehead. His son did not respond but curled himself in embarrassment. Engar chuckled, "Guard the house for me, okay." He placed a kiss once more on Fabien's head before leaving. Engar headed for the exit of the main building. At the exit, Engar was greeted by his servants who held his weapons and armor outstretched with their heads bowed low. Engar's armor was raven black with silver outlines and the emboss of a wyvern on his breastplate. His sword was finely crafted with a silver wyvern on the hilt. The servants stepped away with haste, and Engar entered the bailey, walking with furious strides, it was a miracle he didn't fall as the rain assisted by a powerful wind, blew right into his face, outside was dark, barely allowing him to see in front. The lighting that struck was bright as if the sun was beginning to break through the clouds but quickly returned to darkness. This was followed by thunderous booms that shook the castle.
Oblivious to the storm that surged, Engar walked toward the portcullis where his soldiers in their silver armor struck the ground once with their feet before giving a salute. "My lord!" The two men shouted.
They turned smoothly on their feet before walking through the portcullis. Waiting outside the gate was a young man, with a cleanly shaven face, black and messy hair, and blue eyes.
"Glad you had the patience to wait for me, Zorion," Engar said to him with a smile.
Zorion chuckled. "Well, don't expect it to be a regular occurrence." Zorion's happy expression quickly turned to seriousness as he took a scroll from his bag. "I see you are in good spirits so that means that the child is in good health?" Engar rests his arm on the hilt of his sword. "Aye, he is, a beautiful baby boy was delivered."
Zorion outstretched his arm with the scroll in hand. It had the seal of the king, a four-pointed star with a hole in the middle. "May the Gods give him a long and happy life, but we have other matters...here, a message from the king!" He held a torch over the letter scroll. Engar's eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his eyes darted from word to word. "What does it say?" Zorion asked curiously. Engar rolled the letter neatly, a sense of urgency on his face. "We need to return! The king is mobilizing for a counter-attack."
Engar and Zorion mounted their horses and made their way on a path that led to a hill. It was extremely dark, and as the lightning flashed, the silhouette of many men on horseback was revealed to Zorion and Engar. They both finally reached the hill where fifty men all on horseback were awaiting their lord. The men all were red and black, but a man that stood out of the group wore a helmet with a feather sprouting from the top. "Captain," Engar said with a nod. The man slightly bowed, "My lord. It seems Phabus's favor is not with us today," he said as he looked at the dark clouds overhead. "It would seem so, but no time to dwell on it Captain, we have to return to camp." The captain nodded once more before lifting the reigns of the horse, "Well, then let's make haste," He charged ahead of the other horsemen before issuing a command. "Let's move out!"
The journey was long-- a week to be exact-- before they arrived at camp. Tents stretched as far as the eye could see. Some wore the banners of other noble houses, the most notable ones being the banners of the Bronzemonds and Trounnengs. The Bronzemonds had a red and white banner with a bronze hand and an eye in the palm, with crowned feathers at the bottom. The other banner was the Trounnengs: it had a golden feather at the bottom with two other feathers sprouting from the sides, and the flag was brown and with a golden outline. They were the richest and most influential houses that brought more men than the other noble houses combined.
Engar and his men made their way into the King's camp. The biggest tent out of all of them was the king's and it was red with golden embroidery. Engar and Zorion headed straight into the tent without resistance from the guards that stood outside. Inside the tent, and standing around a table were the nobles of Selediano, and at the end of the table was king Alfonso Saifuddien, a tall man with black hair and strong facial features. Even though king Saifuddien was a sight to behold; the attention of the nobles turned to Engar and Zorion. They both quickly bowed before Engar spoke, "Your Royal Highness! I sincerely apologize for my late arrival, I hope you may find it in your heart to forgive us," Engar said.
For a good second, the room was quiet as the nobles' gazes were locked on Engar, and then at the king before the silence was broken with boisterous laughter, with the king's laugh drowning out everyone else's. "Enough with the formalities Engar!" Saifuddien assured with a rough voice. Engar arose with a grin painted across his face followed by Zorion. They found a spot on the table where they awaited the king's orders. It was cold but the fire in the metal hearth kept the room relatively warm.
Saifuddien set his jaw and rest his hands on the table his facial expression turning serious. A feeling of anxiety spread throughout the room. Finally, Saifuddien spoke. "For years, the citizens of Selediano, have been plagued with anxiety and fear. Three hundred years ago, our ancestors won the battle of Grafrevingo, and a hundred years later they survived the Xaeqith Gateway Cataclysm, which still left millions of monsters roaming this continent. Now, we are dealing with a treat less bad than what our ancestors endured, and we will overcome it with strength, and tenacity the likes they had never seen before."
The nobles including Engar nodded and responded, "Aye!"
King Saifuddien stepped away from the table and stood at ease. "Enough rambling from me. Alexander, I invite you to lay down the plan for our attack." Without haste, a man who wore his hair in a ponytail began to move where the King previously stood. He was covered in black armor with golden edges, covered with a silver coat, and he carried a sword with a golden pommel. He cleared his throat before speaking. "My lords!" Alexander said while drawing a long and thin metal rod from his coat. Alexander rests the tip of the rod on the map. "We will be outnumbered, but have no fear, my lords. We will still have the upper hand. They are many, but they will be lightly armored and our cannons positioned on the hill will make light work of their infantry. Our Army will be divided into nineteen regiments. We shall be stationed at the rear, and in front of us, will be five regiments of swordsmen. In front of the swordsmen, regiments will be eight spearmen regiments, the last spearmen regiment will guard the regiments of archers at the head of the entire army. Our cavalry will guard each flank. It is a simple plan, but it will work, considering the rag-tag band we will be dealing with," Alexander said, confident in his plan.
A round of applause and laughter erupted from the tent but Engar stood indifferent to the boost of morale being thrown around. Engar grumbled, "Don't get your hopes up to high, they are ruthless and cunning," Engar advised. The applause came to a halt and the attention was now on Engar.
"Don't you have faith?" A noble inquired.
Engar stood up straight showing he was not intimidated by the looks he received. "Forgive me my lords, but faith isn't going to save me from a firebolt. I have faith in skills and tactics because that is what wins battles. This might look good on parchment but let's see how you all do when the fighting starts." He received some scowls but that is all they could do, scowl. "I hear you, Engar. but we are at a loss for time. We need to strike fast and hard. Anyhow, Get your men ready...we start tomorrow," Saifuddien commanded.
The nobles began to leave including Engar and Zorion. The once relatively silent tent began to bustle with the chatter of the aristocrats. "Zorion, are you ready?" Engar asked concerned.
Zorion raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm not?" He scoffed, surprised at Engar's concern.
"Well, your young--probably the youngest commander in the history of Selediano!" Engar affirmed.
"Don't you worry about me old man, I'll be totally fine-"
Fire burst from the hearth stopping Engar and Zorion in their tracks. The other nobles whipped their heads around, startled. The king reeled backward his hands blocking his face from the intense heat. Even through all this chaos, something seemed peculiar to Engar, the fire didn't rise or fall back into the hearth. It stood frozen in one place but still crackled and waved. It slowly began to form an emotionless face as if the fire wore a mask. The fire sputtered before suddenly, and a female voice emerged from the face formed by the fire. It sounded as if multiple people spoke at once and her voice reverberated through the tent. "You will be annihilated!" She said followed by a chuckle. "You are alone in this fight, darkness will consume you and death will plague your people. The gateway is just the beginning, the supreme who comes after will command a great and ghastly army. Death comes closer every hour."
They all watched in horror and shock at the sight before them, some even dropped to their knees eyes widened. before she could utter another word, Alexander outstretched his right arm, runes formed on his hand, and a gush of cold air filled the room slowly extinguishing the fire. As a final hurrah, the fire condensed into a small ball before flying to the top with lightning speed, and with the force of a cannon, a loud explosion burst a hole into the top of the tent knocking everyone to the ground.
Engar looked at the grey sky through the hole, his mouth opened in shock. After what felt like minutes of staring in disbelief, Engar finally came back to his senses. "The king, The King!" He shouted in horror.
He ran to Saifuddien followed by the other nobles. The king's face was covered in ash, and his body looked lifeless. Engar put his hands on the king's neck, he was still alive. He stood up blowing a sigh of relief. "Get him to the healer!" Engar commanded. The soldiers from outside rushed in and grabbed the King. The Anger in Engar's body was now searing. He grits his teeth and clenched his fist, blood beginning to stream down his palms. This was an unforgivable act and may the gods help whoever stood in his way.
Several weeks had passed. The king's army marched day and night toward the location the battle would take place. Finally, they arrived. They arrived on an open field where a battalion of men already waited, scouting for the approach of the enemy. The two magic cannons were already stationed on the hill with the gunners in position already manning them. With the order from our general, and a blow from the trumpets. The army marched to their assigned positions. Outside was grey, and not a beam of light emerged from the thick clouds. Engar sat atop a horse at the back of the king's army fifty-thousand men strong alongside his fellow noblemen. The air was still and not a single sound was heard besides the scavs circling overhead. Ahead of the army was a tree line, and the sound of men marching was emerging from the forest. They were numerous but lightly armored in black. Man after man emerged from the forest onto the field with some persons who looked to be commanders heavily armored with skull helms.
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It was sudden, an earsplitting shot from the Magic cannons started the battle, my heart never raced so hard in my life and my limbs felt weak from shivering in fear and anxiety. I breathed in and out slowly, allowing my nerves to calm. This was my second battle. With a blow of the trumpets, we moved forward, slowly, all the while with unrelenting fury, the cannons fired on the positions of the enemy. The sound of the artillery hitting their positions sent shivers down my spine. I had a hint of sympathy for them. With dust and dirt flung high into the air, the positions of the enemy were completely concealed. The silence was terrifying, but the sound of our men marching gave me some reassurance.
For what felt like an eternity, the other end of the battlefield was silent. With a shout from our newly appointed general, the army halted their march. Continuously, the cannons bombarded the enemies' positions. "They can't already be all dead." A nobleman nervously said. I wanted information as well but I couldn't help but keep looking ahead.
"Enough!" Our general, the king's brother commanded. He gave an order for one of the cavalrymen to scout ahead. The cavalryman gave the general a fearful look before carrying out his orders. The silence was broken by the neighs and the footsteps of the horse charging toward the enemy. Into the smoke and fog, the lone cavalryman headed-- the sounds of his horse becoming ever so distant.
It was a while before we heard the sound of the horse again and I let out a sigh of relief thankful that we would have a clear knowledge of our situation. To my horror, the horse emerged without a rider. It disrupted our lines as it ran with eyes widened in fear and a bloody saddle. Our eyes followed the horse as it ran off into the distance. "Defensive formations!" Our general abruptly shouted. Feet stomped upon the ground and metal clanged as the spearmen lifted their shields and kept their tips pointed toward the enemy. I drew my sword ready to foil any plan made by the enemy. Suddenly, I found it difficult to keep my horse steady pulling the reigns to keep him straight. The noblemen beside me struggled with the same situation. It was soon all the horsemen struggled as well. The neighs of our horses filled the battlefield.
I whipped my head towards my front once more as the sound of whistling and crackling began to move closer. My gaze was carried to the sky as four hot volleys of fire magic were about to rain down on us. "Incoming!" The general shouted. The sky and the ground were illuminated as the attack came closer. The first regiment was hit followed by three more as the fire volley slammed into our positions. A wave of wind hit me knocking me from my horse and sending the air from my lungs. Never in my life has my heart raced so fast. Screams of men were heard coming toward us as more explosions rained down. Our cannons began to work once more.
The witch army was descending upon us. "Group up and prepare to charge!" The general commanded. I searched around for my horse but it was nowhere to be found. Out of the smoke, Zorion emerged. "My lord! Your horse?!" Zorion asked concerned. "Don't worry," I assured. Still, he left his horse and joined me. Zorion stood next to me, his sword drawn as well. I looked at him and nodded, he returned the nod as well. With a wave of the general's sword, we charged forward to death or victory. I screamed as I charged forward. lines of soldiers clashed with uncontrollable fury. Firebolts and other magical elements whistled overhead, men were pulverized and maimed. Men screamed for their mothers, as troop line after troop line moved forward over men dead, or dying. Calvary crashed into the fray sending men hundreds of feet into the air.
To my horror, I came upon an enemy soldier. The man screamed and charged, but my mind became clear and I became heartless. Runes formed on my hands indicating I was using mana. I strengthened my arms and blocked his attack driving my sword deep into his stomach. Around me, men clashed. Once again another man charged at me. He missed his attack and I slammed my weapon into the man's neck, his blood covering my face. Man after man charged at me but they all met the fate of the others. My blood quickened with bloodlust as I began to turn mad with rage. The arrow of the enemy struck my shoulder, I felt it enter my skin, but the pain was nowhere to be found. "Just try and kill me!" I shouted in rage. He shot at me once more, before I swat away his arrow and shoved my weapon deep into his face. For hours we fought and the bodies were beginning to pile.
The general ordered the reconfiguration of our formation. What was he doing? The horde of the witch army would pick off the rest of us if we turned our back to regroup. "Group up and hold the line!" I shouted, hoping the men would hear my cries. The black horde of the witch army charged toward us, trampling their dead. The magic cannons slammed into the enemy's formation hurling bodies into the air. The sky was streaked with the smoke of magic going to and fro through the air. The general had kept one regiment of swordsmen at his command, but he sent them forth to join the formation he was creating.
Men fell one by one as they turned their backs to head for the safety of the formation. This was a slaughter, a slaughter that could've been prevented. I poured magic into my arms and tightened my grip on my weapon. A noble, who was on horseback moved swiftly hoping to get to the general's formation. He stopped in front of me and extended his arm.,"Engar!" He shouted. "Get on!" I held his hand and jumped on the horse. Swiftly, he made his way to the formation. Before he could stop, I hopped off the horse and ran toward the general. "Your highness, we must hold this line!" I advised. I could tell he was afraid as he stared into the distance without giving me his attention. "Your highness, I know you are planning to retreat, but you mustn't, we must hold this line.
The coward did not even listen to me, he ordered some of his men to go with him and he ran along with the other nobles. Zorion came up behind me with eyes widened in fear and shock at what he had just witnessed. "It is ok, Zorion," I assured. "If we die, we die giving the bastards a fight they would never forget. Now, give me your horse." Zorion obliged and I went toward the soldiers who still fought. "Fall back and hold a defensive line!" I commanded.
I looked toward the gunners on the hill. I raised my arm and signaled for them to fire at the enemy. The support from the cannons allowed the rest of the men to retreat. We lost a third of our army and the dark horde just kept coming.
Heading to the front, of the army I raised my sword high and began to speak, all while the cannons battered the witch army's advance. "Men of Selediano, your leaders have abandoned you. they have left you to face the onslaught of a horde that has no morals or values. Traitors that have come to conquer a land that they've betrayed!" I paused for a moment as the explosions and screams behind me drowned out my voice. "I ask you this day to not for your king, or me, fight for your family's future, fight for yourself. Because at the end of the day, no one can save you but you! Today is as far as they'll go. Summon your courage, summon your strength. Let's give these bastards a trip to their masters from the Shadow isles!"
The defensive line erupted in cheers. This was good, if we fail here, our kingdom would be brought to ruination. The gunners stopped firing, I looked to the hill they sat upon, and the gunners waved their arms to signal their ammo had run dry. It mattered not, we held the line and waited for the witch army to reach our line. I dismounted my horse and sent it on its way. I joined the line taking cover behind one of the shields of the spearmen.
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The battle of Lockwood was a pyrrhic victory. The Witch army retreated but the men of Selediano didn't bother to give chase, they were exhausted. This worthless battle didn't change the predicament of the Principality of Selediano...for the future years to come.
4 years after the battle of Lockwood...
Engar and his wife sat in their garden surrounded by their children the youngest being the newborn, a baby girl named Anya who had the same golden eyes as her mother, was cuddled in Engar's arms. The first child Fabien and Zarek the scarlet-eyed beauty as his mother would call him played in the garden.
It was getting late and supper was about to be served. "Zarek! Fabien!" Cynthia called. "We are heading inside." Zarek and Fabien ran to their mother holding her hands tightly and giggling.
As Engar and Cynthia accompanied by their children, walked down the hall. A servant ran towards them. "My lord! My lady!" she said bowing. "My lord your mother is here to see you." Cynthia and Engar gave each other surprised looks.
"Tell her I'm on my way," He said with the biggest smile on his face. The servant smiled and bowed before walking away toward Yvanna.
Quickly after she left Cynthia turned towards Engar, nervousness painted on her face. "Take Fabien and Anya with you, I'll stay with Zarek-"
"No! This is my house! I will not tolerate disrespect towards, you...or my son!"
"Please! My family caused many deaths, your mother would not tolerate my nor Zarek's presence. Please, just let Zarek and I stay."
Engar sighed, "Of course, your sweet plea for secrecy has touched my heart." He placed a sweet kiss upon Cynthia's lips and took Fabien from her hands.
Zarek and Cynthia watched as Engar left with Anya and Fabien. "Mommy!" Zarek cried. "I want to go too!" Tears began to stream down Cynthia's eyes. "Sorry my son, but for your safety, you must stay hidden, do you understand?" Zarek shook his head while biting his fingers.