The World of Strife

The lighthearted mood shared between the three of us quickly evaporated, its place taken by the somber tension that represented the haunting reality of war. Still, the small respite we experienced among ourselves was enough to rekindle my shredded spirit.

I was once again in the middle of the stretched military formation. Sounds of battle constantly echoing all around us, never ceasing, a distant constant in the equation of life and death.

The thought alone made me shiver.

It was so easy to become another faceless number added to the hundreds of fallen. Brave men and women who died today fighting to defend their homes, right here in this dark and rigid corridor. I wasn't ready to become just another unfortunate soul being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is incredibly hard to understand how fickle life feels on a war-torn battleground.

Life — that is everything to us, millions of decisions followed by millions of consequences combined among billions of possible varieties. Endless possibilities intertwined into a complex, inseparable whirlwind of meaning. An abstract thought that usually weighs so much, yet on the battlefield all those possibilities with suffocating weights to them, they condense into a simple line: survival.

It didn't take long for the continuation of this senseless slaughter. The soldiers rallied for another desperate attack, their eyes sparking with the silent fury that arose from seeing their fallen companions, risen as undead before their very eyes. It was a deep rage that could only be sated with more spilled blood, and it was only contained by the promise of that very opportunity.

However, even blind rage trembles when grown witness to true power.

Magic once more ripped through the earth, molding it with the ease of which children drew pictures in the soft sand of a distant beach. The cavern shook violently around us, scattering the idyllic memory of a distant childhood.

It was a different life. It didn't just feel like that. It was one.

Instead of hazy pictures drawn in the sand, today my hands reaped lives.

Blood splattered across the cold ground as another crystalline shard of ice found its mark in a shadowy figure standing at the end of the newest layer of trenches. These were the last Voznin was able to make. He has officially used up all of his power, leaving only enough to not impede his ability of movement.

"Nice one, Selora!" — Alita praised, slapping me on the back as she peaked at the fallen goblin, her expression twisting into disgust. — "You got another one of those little bastards. I think your aim has improved considerably!"

I nodded numbly, stepping aside to allow a dozen soldiers to dash into the newly formed trenches. Quickly finishing any unfortunate enemy that was taken by surprise from the very ground splitting under their feet.

I recalled my recent line of thoughts. Voznin himself said that while he was out of magic, he wasn't yet out of the fight. I glanced towards the man taking a well-deserved break not far behind us. I didn't miss the way he gripped his already bloodied axe, emphasizing the validity of his previous words.

The only issue was that we couldn't quite reach the enemy lines. Their main forces gathered in front of the first gate, which was taken by the enemy. There were still several hundreds of meters between us and their defensive lines. At least the ones that were on this side of the gate.

I glanced towards Emrum, who stood beside me. Presently staring towards said lines with a grim expression plastered over his dust covered face.

"Still no sight of the cavalry, aye?" — He asked or more like observed with a heavy heart. Some soldiers hearing his words nodded, while others simply continued to peek over the edges with similarly grim expressions.

"Fine then, we shall do it the old-fashioned way." — Emrum stated, rolling his shoulders and neck, an action that, given the circumstances, felt somewhat comical. Not that it distracted him from doing so. Soon enough, his harsh voice cut through the air in a commanding tone.

"Attention! My good men! It is time to leave the barricades, make a shield wall and push forth! Archers stay in the back! Time to show these bastards that dwarven people also can handle bows! Charge!" — The soldiers moved as one with little to no hesitation this time. Emrum's orders were constantly repeated by other officers in all directions, carrying his words across the field.

I spared a quick glance towards my friends standing at my sides among many others. We shared a meaningful look.

This was it, I gulped, seeing the first of our soldiers leaving the relatively safe cover of the trenches.

Emrum placed his large hand over my shoulder, pulling my attention to himself as he spoke. — "All of you, stay in the middle of the formation!"

Then he turned to me specifically. — "Selora, prepare your shield magic to cover us from the arrows." — I nodded, sensing that this was not a suggestion, but an order. Emrum continued to give out similar ones to the others as well.

"Aria, guard our mage! I don't want a repeat of the previous incidents." — Aria nodded to that, giving me a glare of her own. I sweated a bit under the combined stares of Aria and Emrum, but still kept my back straight.

Emrum's eyes turned to the remaining two girls. — "Camilla, use that bow and stay at the back of our formation, within sight." — The girl nodded while clasping the recently acquired elven bow close to her chest. It was apparently a big deal to have a dark elf bow in perfect condition. There was a reason why they were so feared for their arrows, dark elf craftmanship, especially regarding bows, was one of the best. I wonder where exactly did she found it.

Emrum's attention turned to the last of our tiny group. — "Alita, I heard you were injured, are you fine now?"

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"Yes! Selora took care of my injuries." — The dwarven lass offered a wide, toothy grin in my direction, which I reciprocated, if a bit more self-consciously. I really hope her head is fine…

"Good then, in that case, you are coming with me. Stay by my side and everything will go smoothly! I don't want to be the one that has to explain for your mother why her daughter ended up dead." — Emrum added the last part in a teasing tone, which elicited an annoyed grumble from the girl.

"Hey… that's not fair! I did pretty well…" — Alita protested when a new voice entered the fray calling out the grumbling brunette.

"I heard you got run down by goblins, barely getting away with your life." — Alita's head snapped around, leveling a glare at the incoming man wearing a familiar horned helmet. There was also a large two-handed axe practically drenched in blood held in his large hands.

"Well, nobody asked you, Crom! By the way, where were you when we needed your help?" — Alita complained, exchanging jabs with the man in a friendly gesture.

"I don't remember being your bodyguard, lass. Little girls have no place on the battlefield, even ones as bad tempered as you. Does your mother even know where you are?" — He poked Alita in the middle of her forehead with one of his fingers. Pushing the girl's head back a few inches.

"Ow, what was that for!? Damn brute!" — Alita said, covering her forehead with her right palm. — "Of course, she does, the reserve forces were called into action if you haven't noticed!"

"Hey… didn't you just say your parents weren't home?" — I asked her, feeling a bit confused. — "Now that I think of it, weren't we just drinking tea with your mother back in that restaurant?"

Alita's eyes snapped to me, then she added hesitantly… — "Well, yeah… I-I meant those of my family who were trained in combat… My mother is not a soldier as you likely deduced and my father and brothers aren't home, so that's the story… why?"

"Oh, well… I was just confused." — My eyes narrowed at her as I asked. — "You didn't just sneak out without telling her anything, right?"

Alita's face paled at my suggestion. — "O-of c-course not!" — She answered with just the right amount of stutter, successfully assuring us of the opposite.

Emrum facepalmed, grumbling a series of curses into his hand, while Crom barked out a wild laugh. — "I think you are cooked lass, you better get all the experience out of this battle, because I suspect you won't see another one for a long time! Haha! That soft handed father of yours is surely stubborn in not letting you see much action!"

Emrum cut off the conversation with sudden decisiveness. — "Whatever, there is no time for this right now! Get to your positions and move out! Let's hope the dark ones also used up most of their magic power… otherwise we are in for a wild ride!"

All of us nodded, suddenly remembering where we were, our faces turned back towards the direction of the first gate. There was no more time, we had to move.

We headed down the path of the last section of the trenches, following the footsteps of our soldiers. Eventually, we reached the end, where the walls formed stairs, allowing us an easy way out, climbing back to the surface. I was momentarily taken aback by the fact that Voznin even thought about this part, but accepted it soon enough, being urged by my companions to move.

I willed my magic to life, creating an umbrella like shape stretched out above our heads, then left behind the relative safety of the trenches.

The moment I stood on the ground, the sheer scale of the battle happening around us dawned on me. The constant sounds of battle, so far being only that, a distant noise. It became very much visible.

There were hundreds of men, dwarves, and humans alike facing down a shroud of arrows battering against their shields and bodies. Pushing against the rain of deadly arrows.

In front of us stood a black army fuelling the storm. It didn't take long for the first arrows to clatter against my shield, jolting me from my shock.

We pushed towards the nearest shield wall, joining the line of our soldiers, all the while arrows continued to fly around us both ways, delivering death.

We passed many such unlucky soldiers, finding their end with an arrow stuck through the weak spots of their armor.

The moment we joined our forces, I lowered my magical shield as the number of arrows hitting against it was starting to drain my reserves. We were ducked behind the raised shields of our companions anyway.

We continued to move ahead, hiding from the deadly rain behind the cover of our shields. At least until the consistent arrow strikes suddenly stopped coming. Soon after, several loud shouts alerted us of the reason.

"The enemy is moving into melee! Prepare to engage!" — Several shouts echoed through the field coming from various people as the army prepared to engage in close quarter combat.

Recalling my own incompatibility for melee combat. I decided that I will not participate in such and immediately moved to the back of the formation. Aria, just as she promised to Emrum, followed me while dragging Camilla along.

Meanwhile, Emrum, Alita and Crom prepared to engage the enemy along the rest of the army. The sounds of rushing feet and harsh battle-cries followed with the bone shattering clash of hundreds of bodies covered in metal.

I stood there and watched the unfolding events in awe, seeing as more and more soldiers joined the battle, I too grasped the shaft of my staff with newfound determination. Now that our armies weren't separated by complex labyrinth like formations, the possibility of wielding magic was once again a feasible option. Alita was also right in her previous observation.

My control regarding ice magic has grown considerably since I entered this battle. Now I was capable to accurately aim for a much larger distance. I presumed that I was likely capable with a few trials and errors to angle my strikes over our army and still hit the enemy behind them.

I merely needed to make sure that my strikes will not fell short of target, while I didn't really need to worry hitting the enemy itself. After all, in a battle like this, if you aimed relatively fine, you will naturally hit someone.

I prepared my first series of projectiles carefully, having them floating in the surrounding air, before sending the first singular shard in a light angle above the heads of our troops. I watched the projectile using my elven sight, seeing as it crashed against the wall.

Well then, I have overshot that one, let's try it with two-thirds of the power.

I repeated the process once more, this time hitting just behind their forces. Lightly adjusting my aim, I sent a handful of shards through the air. Their incredibly sharp and tough needle like shapes rained down into the core of the invading army, felling dozens of soldiers in a glistening shroud of death.

I stepped back, shocked by the efficiency of my spell. Aria, on the other hand, seemed pleased with witnessing the results of my attack.

"Well done!" — She stated proudly. — "Next time, try to aim a bit to the left. Alleviate the burden on that flank if you can."

I nodded, I certainly could. Creating ice shards, even with numerous smaller ones, wasn't that much of a strain. I therefore focused my thoughts on the task ahead. In a few minutes, I unleashed hundreds of shards into the enemy lines, dozens at a time. I wasn't willing to think about the number of people I killed or maimed so far. The thought alone made me woozy and nauseated.

It also didn't matter at the time.

The battle was yet to be won, and until then, nothing else mattered. I told myself that I will deal with the consequences when the time arrived. Even if I dreaded the thought of it.