Daily Nohric made the two hour walk from the main campsite to the makeshift checkpoint set at the base of Crow’s Pass. The dense swamp on the western boarder stretched all the way to Dragonspine Mountain. Even as a child Nohric had heard stories of the swamp that ate up little children and bad people. The blackened waters stained the lowest portions of a massive ancient wall made at the time of the first ancient war with the dragons. Believed to be taller than two dragons stacked upon themselves, the break in the wall where he stood was deep enough for thirty men to be hidden easily. Why it was built none knew or cared to share, its only purpose now was to dam the swamp from stretching out and blighting the rest of the south and to now provide an excellent chokepoint in protection of Sorc.
East half a days travel where the wall finally ended, a rugged maze of rock formations and scalding hot sprints all the way to the western boarder of Serpents Bay; Dragon Slumber. The wet and hot mist covered the area and made it impossible to travel. Many a bard spoke of those lost to the mists of the Slumber never to be heard from again. Where a single wrong step would find a man dieing the painful death of having his melting from his body as his screams only echoed off the formations. On a clear day, only the tips of the formations could be seen as the damnable mist covered everything else. Nohric had once accepted a dare to climb down the face. Only making it halfway before his senses returned, he saw all he needed to see. With every step down it grew more and more quiet, wet and eerie. Now he was thankful for the protection it too offered. Combined with the wall and swamp, Dragon Slumber was the third piece of Crow’s Pass. While surrounded in mystery for a time far longer than he had been alive, it was now an advantage for the southern soldiers and the first step of relief for refugees.
Almost as if on queue with his thoughts, Nohric watched as another slow and distraught train of battle beaten people moved through the pass. None looked up as they passed. One foot placed in front of another, the procession kept their heads down as the many villages that dotted the Southern Realm to the boarder Hnor continued to pay heavily as the Rhiyan forces continued their advance deep into the South. Nohric could see on their faces they had learned the terrible truth; there are worse things than death in war. In fact death itself was a release and an end to suffering. Life offered them empty stomachs, broken hearts, spirits and bodies as if to continue to live was a curse.
Various members holding the pass pointed the sick and wounded in one direction toward the Temple of Thor Syle while the rest were directed to make way to Sorc. He knew by now Sorc was almost overrun with refugees just as sure as the Temple was choked with the sick and wounded. Some came back and helped but even more, once healed or recovered would simply avoid the conflicts by hiding in any of the villages along the funnel of the bay where they were far away from the main road. When he first left Sorc his blood boiled at the groups of Southern men falling behind and then disappearing, thinking they were unnoticed. At first he would send scouts to watch them, but with each passing report his own moral fell. Nohric couldn’t allow that to pass to those he led opting instead to just let the cowards run.
Only a week after General Nohric arrived at the pass did a large group of men arrived wearing the colors and clothing of the Rakshar. Skirting along the shallow bank water of Serpents Bay and passing the Rhiyan army’s flank, only a handful was lost in arriving at the pass. After interviewing each of them to be sure he understood all that happened, Nohric was relieved to hear Delvakhan and the others were making a break to the eastern coast, pulling them far from the advance. However that also meant his nephew was months away from Windra which meant the trained warriors of the South were still not en route. He hated sending them to Thor Syle where they would meet up with one of his Commanders. It left less a smaller force for protection and simply they would have to hold the pass without a chance to push back forward. They had not choice but to try to hold out.
Walking along the pass Nohric found himself wishing to hear news of his Commanders to know if they had been right or wrong and if the Rakshar helped push them back. Still nothing came week after week; it was time to accept they were dead and the pass was the last point before Sorc could be siege. The refugees and even those that he himself dropped off in Sorc would stand little chance of surviving a siege from the demonic force chewing through the south. Too much was at risk and it left his mind riddled with doubts about his actions. Perhaps the boy was too detached to be a King of the people. Had Nohric accepted the duty, all the South would have rallied to at least give them a chance to survive long enough for the Ministry to determine it wasn’t worth it to press so far south. Vakhan had warned him for years of falling into doubt and with the thought of his brother Nohric knew the answer was simple. Vakhan should not have left his people, he was the rightful King and in the end he abandoned his people. Greatness or not, Nohric would hold those thoughts in his head forever. Too much was risked in an attempt to hold prophecy at bay. Too much was at risk to trust the cryptic words of one, even if that one was the ancient Timewalker.
More scout and messengers arrived before midday had arrived. General Nohric watched as grim reports were delivered and faces drew long in response. They were loosing; inevitably they Rhiyan forces would arrive and force themselves through the pass. With only week’s march, Sorc would fall to ashes and the South would be lost. He could even see his beloved Windra and her beautiful caressing waters wasted and ruined signaling the end of the last vestige of hope. No matter what they did, the Apocalyptic Prophecy was going to come to pass.
Just before nightfall as Nohric read through his reports and viewed his maps a runner burst through out of breath. Patiently he waited for the messenger to gather his breath offering him a quick tankard.
Still breathing hard, the young man pushed the words through gasps. “Commander Harris… and Commander…. Dargo…. approach the pass…. being chased.”
Nohric didn’t wait to hear the rest, grabbing his weapon and rushing out of his tent he signaled an alarm. Immediately the base camp came alive as the guard companies of the pass gathered and formed in perfect time as they had been trained. Refusing to let anyone pass him, the general broke into a run for the pass. Even as the burn formed in his legs, he pushed past it knowing he and his men were needed at the pass. What took two hours for him to leisurely walk, the companies covered in ten minutes. The pass was filled with men and voices barking orders in chaos. Immediately he could see his Commanders and even the Rakshar crowded tight in the pass.
“Clear the pass. If you aren’t on duty to the pass, make a hole and make it wide. You act as if you have never been trained. Get food and drink to our brothers.” Nohric’s loud and commanding voice cut through the chaos. Roughly grabbing on of the men in front of him he shoved him violently to the side. “By the Light I said make a hole. Gather yourselves. Guards form your communication lines before I turn you over to the darkness myself.”
Quickly his commanders made their way to him. General Nohric couldn’t suppress the smile on his lips seeing them again. In response he could see some relief in their eyes as they met his.
“They left the Citadel alone, but by the darkness, they came from both sides. I think some actually crossed the Bay to get to our flank.” Commander Harris responded.
“How far away are they?” Nohric demanded to know.
“Two days at best. But there is more.” Dargo interrupted. “We will also be fighting our own mean previously killed.”
Nohric looked to the man as if he was lost in delirium. Words couldn’t form in his head let alone his lips.
“The Rakshar witnessed some ritual as they made their way to us. Several Ministry dressed in black garb seemed to summon the dead from the battlefield and immediately charge us like animals.” Dargo explained.
“They don’t rest and they don’t eat. They are ravenous and remarkably swift. As we approached the pass we folded back on them and killed them off. To the Darkness Nohric fighting my own men, beaten, battered and dead has taken its toll on the men.” Harris added shaking his head as if he was trying to shake the visual from his eyes.
“Get word to Thor Syle, we need their help.” Nohric started but was interrupted by Commander Harris.
“Already done. They were told of the issue and to meet us here at the pass.” Harris drained a tankard, then another.
“Where do you want our men, they are sorely in need of rest.” Dargo asked as he stretched his back with his hands at his hips. Then added with a grin, “Any place soft will do.”
“Move them out of pass and pick a spot. Doesn’t matter” Nohric began to pace as he thought. “At daybreak we will begin shifts of full companies guarding the pass. Those still at the base will be moved up just south of us here. We have been waiting for word, now that we have it we have to be ready. If they are two days away we can expect them to know of the pass at this point and force the march faster. Send messengers to Sorc and Windra and put them on alert. Even without the King, we need those forces now.”
The commanders nodded in agreement immediately dispatching communication to their men. Deep into the night General Nohric and his commanders planned an organized the companies. In all they had a single legion against a force of at least three times their size. Coupled with the news of fighting their dead, Nohric knew Crow’s Pass would fall; it was simply a matter of how long they could delay that outcome.
****
Slowly he opened his eyes. No longer could he remember when he first closed them. In fact, they no longer wanted to open. Suddenly he was aware of the whispers around him. They were hushed and excited, never rising above a low murmur. Someone was almost in grabbing distance; he could smell him. His body however was too cramped to move. He felt the blood begin to run once again with great fever throughout his body. His mind was waking faster than his body; already he called upon his power to offer a breeze to cool the sweat beginning to form upon his skin. He felt the heat of the day, yet the other bodies within his room caused the temperature to rise even higher. The once sleeping creature reached out and touched each mind in the room with his own.
They had been searching for him for years yet only today did they stumble upon the tower. They were all confused as to why they could not see it before. What his finders didn’t know is they were only following the power of the Prophecy. The Chosen must have been born; it was the only way they could have found him. Surely his brothers were already walking again. A pain filled his head as if his skull was being cracked. The scorched part of his soul wanted to command him again, yet his sleep had allowed him the opportunity to recoup. Once again he was in complete control. The muscles of his limbs were yearning to be stretched; yet he could not move. In fact he was compelled to wait until the man the others in the room waited for arrived. Joliel was the man’s name they all waited for. Joliel knew of the Prophecy and it was this same man he remembered meeting. Everything was distant and blurred as he tried to understand how he met the man.
Joliel was close, he could sense his mind. Joliel however clouded his thoughts – he was trained to use the power, yet something was wrong, scared and broken in his power. He wanted to smile in recognition of this. Upon the air however, there was a power, stronger than Joliel’s yet more raw and pulsing. His first thoughts were of his brothers and sister. As he listened to the winds however he found it was another. One who clouded its mind so well; it would have been missed had his sense not been so keen. This one worried him. He would find this one, yet it would wait, Joliel had come to finish the waking. The least he could do I sallow this man to think he was in control.
“Do not touch the sacred one,” Joliel commanded as he entered, “you do not possess the powers.” Placing his hands just above the sleeping man’s chest he began to chant low and deep.
No longer could he suppress the smile forming upon his lips. The man named Joliel was almost humorous in his use of pageantry. Joliel called upon the power of fire to illuminate his hands, calling it the power of life.
“Rise sacred one, let all know the mighty Minoc has woken from his long sleep in then Darkness.” Joliel commanded, “Show us the glory of your waking!”
Sitting upright, Minoc took a long dramatic breath, his eyes peering into those of Joliel. He remembered now, this was the Seom of his people. The magic of essence and counter to his might. He realized now, the rings that once adorned his hands were gone, as was his amulet and weapon. There would be time to find them again and punish those responsible for their taking. That is if he found he stilled needed them to ward off the druid.
Those around the two men fell to the floor bowing deeply. Slowly he walked to Joliel until he stood directly before him. “You are the Seom of Rhiya and I am her sword, her Minoc. I assume you found the Timewalker?”
“We are advancing on the south.” Joliel quickly avoided the question. “When you are ready, our forces in Tabath await their commander.”
Anger swelled in Minoc as the words hit his ears. This creature thought to command and control him. He could sense the demon blood running through him, but it wasn’t natural.
“Your blood is tainted with power not yours, while mine is that of Rhiya. Command me again and it will be you that reside in the Darkness for failure. Ignore the druid, he is not the goal.” Minoc’s fiery eyes flickered with his demonic might.
“Amadagu continues to interfere at key moments and himself is somehow guarding my child.” Joliel answered quickly.
“Go back to your altar, you will find the keys to your power will be unlocked there. Before the child is important we have to Chosen of Xhuri has to be killed. If not, the Prophecy will be false and nothing will give form to our great Matriarch. Where is the Book of Souls, I need to consult it.” Minoc questioned.
For several moments the two stared at each other. Once again anger swelled in Minoc. “This is why there must always be a Seom and Minoc. Your focus is scattered and without completion. You act as an angry child without real knowledge.”
“We have the King of South wandering the lands while the people of the south will soon be wiped from Terra.” Seom Joliel responded, his voice unable to hide his displeasure in the chiding.
“Our goal is for our Matriarch to be free to walk in form upon this physical world. Everything else means nothing. She cannot walk free if the Chosen is alive and if the various points of Xhurian power remain active. The people as a whole mean nothing and are mere servants. What happened to the previous Minoc?”
“Killed by the Emperor of the Rakshar.” Joliel stated plainly.
“Those traitors still live? Our people have grown weak, this will be changed. Leave just enough forces to hold what is already done; pull the rest back to Hknal.” Minoc ordered.
“We must press them forward!” Joliel almost spat the words.
With a wave of his hand, Minoc cleared the others from the large room. The moment they left, he snatched Joliel by this neck. “Make no mistake whelp; you will pull those forces back. Nothing will hinder the rebirth of Rhiya, certainly not your petty anger. When you are ready, you will be given part of my power and this will be the key to unlocking that which you lost. But before this can happen you must go through the ceremony of cleansing.”
Joliel’s power surged and simply causes Minoc to smile and roughly let go of his neck while he shoved him away. Minoc knew the Seom was completely unaware of the ceremony and lost as to why his powers didn’t work. The bloodline of the Rhiyan people had been thinned and intermingled too much with the servant classes. Too many important laws had been allowed to pass and this would also be fixed. Minoc was happy to reeducate them. All would be purified by the Darkness and this time he would not fail.
****
Before the sun was high above them, the Rhiyan forces in their deadly black armaments began to surge forward toward the pass. Not even a full day passed when the alarm rang out. Nohric sighed deeply as he saw the overwhelming numbers filled their horizon. He was terribly wrong, it wasn’t three legions, it looked more like seven or eight; far more than they could handle. Crow’s pass was going to fall, if they were lucky they would buy Sorc an afternoon, no more than that.
Wordlessly Nohric moved to the front of the pass as the soldiers at guard pushed tight against one another in waves offering him a clean route. Once he was at the front, all stood ready with their weapons, a variety of axes, swords, spears and hammers. Reaching his hands up high above him, Nohric closed his eyes and dropped his head back allowing the morning sun to splash upon his features. Leveling his head, but keeping his eyes closed, the general prayed silently to Xhuri.
Roars not human began to emit from the pool of blackness that were the legions of Rhiyan soldiers. As they came closer Nohric opened his eyes and could see their demonic features no longer hidden. These were the true Rhiyans, slightly reddish skin fiery red eyes and fingernails that were thick and curled into claws. He had seen plenty of Ministry soldiers more man than beast, but these were just like the stories of old and in that exact moment Nohric knew one thing; this force had to be stopped.
“Alright lads, look out there. Those aren’t men; they are an abomination of what a man should be. Remember your wives, lovers and friends. If that isn’t enough just think of those things ravaging them. Use that anger and by the Light, HOLD THIS PASS.” Nohric announced his voice strong and resolute. “For as long as your fathers’ fathers have walked the South, these creatures have wanted our lands. Your answer is to hold this pass. No amount of blood, death or darkness can stop us from this task. We will hold this pass. Nothing else matters. Not tomorrow, not yesterday and not what may be. We will HOLD THIS PASS!”
Angry cheers and shouts erupted in a roar as they all responded to his words. Turning to face the demonic legions, Nohric’s chest swelled and his vision focused. For the first time since his own training, he felt the fire grow hot and angry in him. His own gift took control of his vision, hearing and mind. Nothing else mattered just the wall of black before him. No face mattered; no sound would deter him Nohric held a singular focus. Even if he was alone, he would hold this pass. For his brother, for his nephew, for his people and for Mora’s child General Nohric would hold this pass.
Light and easy in his grip, Nohric’s massive sword swept low and cut the legs out from under the first attacker to the pass. Spinning to avoid a crashing blow aimed at his skull, he swung in an arch catching red flesh and easily split the skin, disemboweling the demon. Deflecting a huge angry claw with the base of the weapon, a quick twist of his wrist caused Nohric to slice the appendage clean from the beasts arm. Howling and pulling back, the bloodied blade was thrust up and through the creature’s neck and jaw. Climbing over the three dead bodies, Nohric leapt in the air and drove the weapon down through the back of another Rhiyan. Lost in his flurried focus the general refused to stop his attacks. For every blow he landed he seemed to deflect an attack. Somehow he lost his weapon, yet not even that stopped him as he punched, gouged, ripped and tore anything he could get his hands on. A weapon her or there were used for a strike or two and then he would move on, leaving the weapons stuck into sides, heads or limbs of his victims.
Eventually he found himself against the great wall, standing in shallow swamp waters challenging Rhiyan after Rhiyan yet none answered. Several intentionally avoided him as he lunged at them in murderous rage. Throwing himself back into the center of demons immediately killing several of them, Nohric felt the air around him compress. Before he could react an explosion shook his skull and tossed him violently back into the pass. On his knees and trying to recover he would hear in the distance a beating drum that had changed its cadence. Attempting to stand, he became aware of his right arm hanging limp and unresponsive against his side covered with blood and gore. Upon further inspection he saw a nasty wound that covered the distance from his right shoulder to his just above his naval oozed a slow steady flow of blood.
Again the air compressed and half a dozen of his men flew deep into the pass crashing into men, weapons and armor without prejudice. Rhiyan gifted had entered the battle and were effortlessly pushed them back into the pass. Cursing under his breath, Nohric continued to struggle to stand. Several had arrived to help the general to his feet as he strained to see the battle. Again and again the air compressed and crackled with power and the defenders of the pass struggled to not give any ground. Moving him closer to the center, he could see the Rhiyans had not entered the pass. Paying heavily they had called upon their gifted to attempt to push the Southern soldiers back deeper into the pass, yet for every soldiers that was blown back another took his place.
Above them, high upon the wall, dozens of men with bows shot deadly accurate arrows into the gifted. Immediately several were instantly killed and tumbled lifeless from the wall as the gifted responded. Yet the impact was clear as the air quieted and the ground assault continued. Nohric’s head swam in pain and confusion as the battled raged around him. Shrugging off those assisting him, he tried to push his way back to the front. Pride swelled as he witnessed the unrelenting posture of his men holding the pass.
“General you need to get back to the camp, the Rhiyans are beginning to fall back.” Harris was suddenly standing before him, helping support the general. “We have to attend to the wounded, which I might add you are one of.”
“Dargo?” Nohric looked around suddenly trying to recount the names of the dead around them.
“He fell in the initial push. We need to pull our dead from the pass. If they come back, we will lose the pass.”
Straining his vision to the front of the pass he could see a large wave of Rhiyans retreating. The first wave was won; but it was only the first wave. So far they gave Sorc half a day. Half a day was better than none. With a nod, Nohric allowed them to assist him back to the camp as he began to prepare in his mind the next wave he knew would come.
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