The Fall

The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon. Fintan stood on the balcony of a tower that faced the north. It was that faint glimpse of sunlight that let him see it. The dark sail that meant hell was about to reign down on New Daron.

“Bring me my broadsword.” He said silently to his aide who rushed for the blade on the wall. “And clear understanding, Oh Berthis.” He prayed. “Bring me my triskelion of gold, as a talisman.” He told his aide as he took the sword from his hand. Once it was in his hand he put it around his neck and “Have the servants take the women and children up to the roundhouse, and bar all the gates. Let none become slaves, but give them to Clerin.”

“My Lord.” He bowed, taking leave from the count as he sounded the alarm through the castle. Fintan burst through the great hall doors.

“Twili, find a way to recall Usko. Hell is to soon reign on us.” He shouted. “Ready the cannons, we must prepare. Call all men to the castle. We must make our stand! We must stand firm at the river. It is deep enough the ships can provide us firepower.”

Fintan could not recount what took place for the next several hours. He seemed to have blacked out. It was as if they were all suddenly at the river. Two Acmorian ships and the one Arelian ship behind them. A total of seven hundred Arelians, three hundred lycans, and four hundred Volcuns, two hundred Vampires, and three dragons stood ready. The force against them was far larger. Alone the infantry was far stronger in numbers. Two thousand infantry, seven hundred airmen with their Crline eagles. What was worse, eighty pieces of heavy cannons. This battle was not going to end well, but with hope and faith, the Arelians would show the world they were still the foremost powerful nation in the world.

Fintan drew his sword and brought it to his face. “Bless with a hard heart, those who stand with me, oh Berthis. Bless the women and children who firm our hand. Grant us victory, grant us life and liberty, or grant us death!”

“VICTORY OR DEATH!” Keeva yelled, her sword held high. The troops echoed the shout. It was muted only by the fire of cannons from the Rogrican forces. Almost instantly, the Liberty’s Daughter sank lower in to the river. She had been hit, and was taking on water, a lot of water considering the fourth deck guns were already covered by water.

“Steady.” Fintan called, riding ahead, musketeers following him. It was then he noticed something. There stood Morgana, at the head of the army with the general who earned hated glares from the three gryphons near Fintan. His black cloak waving as a stormcloud gathered over head.

“You will have your chances.” Fintan whispered to Fionoch. But it was no good, Aeguris was already airborne. A blizzard now raging, Orian wasted no time and joined his brother in the air. Diona and Fionoch joined shortly after, much to Fintan’s disappointment. They would have helped against the infantry.

With her staff lifted, Morgana ordered the soldiers, and the Rogrican infantry charged. They looked like a blanket of scarlet, with shining weapons lifted. The Arelian muskets were leveled. Five hundred muskets blazed as one enormous sound. Smoke filled the field instantly. The remaining ships fired cannons, eighty balls flew in to the crowd from the ship. Every bullet found a target, and nearly ten or more fell from each cannon shot. But it was not enough to do more than ding the giant army.

The sky was alight with fire from the dragons, blazing the ground below them. Charring the Rogricans to a crisp. Setting off gunpowder for the cannons. That proved a ill move, however. The balls that were not loaded were flung across the battle field with force ten times greater than normal. Suddenly, the last two Arelian ships were aflame and taking on water, and two of the dragons grounded from wounded wings. Never the less they fought with the same might they did in the air. None of the Rogrican’s foolish enough to go too close. Leiserin alone kept in the air, fending off the Eagles that had just begun the fight.

“FIRE AT WILL!” Fintan screamed as he fired off a pistol, blasting through the helm of a Rogrican. The musketeers were soon overwhelmed, and switched to close arms. The rapiers could not pierce the armor though, and they were reduced to making wingment wounds on the bare arms and legs.

Fintan froze as he looked skyward. A brown gryphon fell from the heavens, slamming in to the dirt with a heavy bang. Fintan kicked a Rogrican away from his horse and went in to a gallop, drawing his broadsword and hacking any in his path. The yelps and hisses of pain told him the Vampires and Lycans joined in the fight. Fintan never stopped until he reached Diona’s body. It was covered with blood and dirt, matting her feathers and fur. That had been Orian’s wife, now motionless at his own hand. Another screech called Fintan’s glimpse to the sky. The blizzard had stopped, and a fiery sky of lightening now lit up the earth below. There now fell Aeguris, just the same as Diona.

Fintan fought to keep composure. He pulled himself back to the battle at hand. With a spur he started towards where men were falling left and right, knowing it was the hand of his stepsister and stepmother. He had almost reached them when a roar hit his ears, just after an explosion lit up the sky. Down fell a ton of silver. The Arelian alliance seemed to be collapsing left and right. The dragons were out, and the last gryphon could not be found. The musketeers were over powered, and it seemed as if the lycans and vampires had already been lost the moment they joined. Fintan suddenly fell off his horse, a blow to the head from a poorly thrown axe knocking him out…

Fintan slowly came to in the frozen hall. He saw a purple gown as he realized his gaze was at the floor, and something bound him to the cold wall. He lifted head with hope as he heard a wolf’s growling snarl. There was Berri, Cera and Usko, snarling and growling, trying to get at the Beast which was tormenting them from a safe distance. They were chained to the wall, restrained from fighting further. He realized slowly what had happened as he heard a voice.

“I am surprised you fought this hard, Fintan. I expected you to give up far sooner, and live on with your loved ones in exile.” Morgana was gloating. On the wall opposite him, she was gesturing to everyone else. Boudicca, Keeva, Morgan, Anna, Liani, Twili, Zack, Gealech, and…

“ERISSA!” She was surrounded by Rogricans, who were feeling her up despite her attempts to resist.
“She’ll go last, I think…Captain. The wolf girl.” Morgana grinned, handing the Rogrican a silver blade, for safe measures. Fintan noticed the rose in the blade, it was his.

“Go to hell, bitch!”

“Only after you, my dear.” Morgana sneered, suddenly, she held her hand up. “Wait…” She walked over, as the captain paused from plunging in the dagger. She lifted her staff to Twili’s heart, a stream of manna flying in to the staff as Twili grew limper. Her powers, finally, being drained. “I shall see these go to Geryon and Danni.” She laughed as the captain finished his job. The wolves began howling in anger.

“You may finish them my pet.” The Beast instantly started to tear in to the wolves.

“I will pull you in to the Depths with me, Morgana. I swear to Infrean!” Fintan shouted.

“Oh, not just yet, Finny.” She smirked, waving her hand. The two Queens went ridged. Axes from the Rogrican’s at the wall where their necks were, the only way to kill the Living Dead, remove the head. Fintan saw nothing else, blacking out almost instantly.

Hours later, he came too and looked up. They all lay there, gone. The bodies of his loved once mutilated. But the worst for him was Erissa. Her body was ravaged, another gloating of Morgana as Fintan could do nothing about it. He screamed out in agony, hate and fear. Sobbing he fell limp in the chains that held him to the wall. As he lifted his head about to curse Heaven and Avalon he was met by a flintlock held by Morgana. The flash was bright and loud.