Ruth was aghast at the grizzly sight before her as their forces came up over the hill.
The city was a blaze. Where there were once golden leaves and pines stood yellow and orange flames. Great pillars of black smoke soared into the sky like ashen towers. Countless thousands of Maelim surrounded the city. It was as if the underworld itself had come to her home. Clodius frowned, and he adjusted his helmet. He nodded to Ruth. He wanted to spend a day building ballistas and scorpions, but Ruth insisted they moved quicker. Once again, Ruth’s wisdom proved true.
Clodius drew his sword, and Ruth could see his lips moving, no doubt barking orders to his legions. The Godshards looked to Ruth for orders. Ruth wanted them to be behind the first few ranks, assisting the soldiers with their spells. They would stay close together, although Ember had free reign to morph and attack as she wished. Aunt Kathy would stick with them, and she already had an arrow ready.
Like a machine, the army got into formation. Ruth was impressed by their coordination, each detachment moved as one. They were calm and focused. Their micro expressions might have revealed fear and anxiousness, but they also showed courage. Despite their fear, they would stand and fight. Ruth couldn’t ask for anything more. It was good fortune that they were so quick and efficient. The Maelim army had started to notice their presence more and more. Ranks upon ranks of red and black eyes turned to them, and soon a sizable portion of the invasion force now formed up to brace.
Clodius reared up on his horse and pointed his sword. As one the legions advanced, they were a veritable wall of iron and steel a mile across. Ruth and the Godshards found themselves having to nearly jog to keep up with their pace. Even Ruth could faintly hear Clodius and his officers barking orders and the synchronized footfalls as they marched.
In the distance, the Maelim arrayed their own forces, similarly heavily armored and armed. They were banging their shields together, and Ruth could only imagine the raucous noise coming from their twisted throats. Something strange rose deep within the Maelim ranks. A curtain of darkness that blotted out the sun. Ruth saw one of the officers, Alfredus, mouthing something in a panic.
The legionnaires tightened their ranks, the ones deepest held up their shields, and the ones on the edges laid their shields out. Soon the entire formation was covered head to toe with protection. Ruth paled as she realized what was about to hit them.
It was a barrage of arrows.
Ruth had to sign her spells quickly, and no sooner had she conjured the barrier over her people did the projectiles rain down. Each arrow and bolt caused Ruth to wince. Ruth was grateful that the other Godshards were clearly helping with their own spells since the barrier grew stronger and stronger as each Godshard raised their arms.
Behind the legions, Ruth could see ranks of lighter armored soldiers with javelins. They desperately dodged the arrows and tried to get close to throw their weapons, but there were too many projectiles, and one by one they were taken down. The legions didn’t have many archers either. They were pinned down. Even the legionnaires couldn’t prop up their shields forever, and occasionally an arrow slipped through, piecing an eye or a skull.
Ruth had to do something, and an idea hit her. This spell was hardly the most graceful, but with so many targets, there was no way she could miss. With a swift motion, she signed the spell. She was rewarded by white hot fire raining down upon the Maelim horde. She tried to aim it where she thought the archers were, but it was hard to see. She didn’t know for sure where it landed, but it must have been close enough. The barrage stopped, and soldiers on both sides were stuck in a mix of awe and terror.
The Maelim army glared fiercely and they charged. Clodius gave a grim grin, and with an order, the legions reformed back into lines, pilums in their hands. As one, they threw them and struck home. Many were impaled, spilling black blood as their corpses hit the dirt. Even more lost their shields to the heavy spear shafts. The Maelim force was softened yet unbowed. With another command, the legion broke into a countercharge. The legionnaires drew their swords, eager to match the ferocity of the Maelim with their own.
The lines clashed in a burst of metallic thunder so loud even Ruth could hear it. Soon all was chaos and bloodshed. The tower shields kept the soldiers safe, absorbing blow after blow before they thrust their short swords into the gaps of the Maelim’s armor. The legionnaires knew to stick together, discipline was key. Clodius fought side by side with his men, slaying all who approached with precision stabs from his gladius or from a timely bash of his shield.
For some of the legionnaires, however, discipline faltered. Sometimes a group got too reckless and broke ranks. Iacobius was mouthing orders to them, but it was too late. The Maelim surrounded them, and one by one, they were slaughtered. Some of the Maelim were bigger than others, and they used their raw strength to force a gap in the formation. Soon enough in places, the formation broke down.
But the legionnaires did not fight alone. Ember whispered a spell and morphed into her bear form. With heavy footfalls, she cannoned into the Maelim horde, slicing and biting all who approached. Kai raised their hands, and a score of Maelim’s armor withered and chipped, making them easy prey for the legions. Shawn’s skill with a blade was augmented with his unnatural speed and Maelim were slain before they even realized what hit them.
Inch by inch the Maelim were forced to give ground, but that just made the resistance even more intense. Hulking shapes waded their way through the Maelim ranks. Ruth gasped as half a dozen true Nephilim bared down on them. Their armor was thick, and their evening stars and clubs huge. With great swings, legionnaires launched into the air, little more than crumpled corpses of flesh and broken metal. Others were simply crushed under foot, many before they had a chance to react.
Ruth quickly signed another spell, a lightning bolt leapt out of her hands, blinding her briefly. As Ruth’s vision cleared, she was rewarded with the sight of a Nephilim hitting the ground. The bolt having struck the creature straight through the cranium, his helm pierced. A cluster of javelins brought down another. Bear-Ember morphed into Leopard-Ember, who climbed up the legs of a Nephilim, digging its claws into his back and perched on his shoulder, biting down right on the jugular, spilling blood everywhere.
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The Maelim force began to break! Even better, Ruth could see the Benelim forces rallying from inside the city, pushing them out from the walls. At long last her worlds had become one!
But the Maelim weren’t finished yet.
Ruth turned to see Jolene motioning to her in a panic. Before Ruth could even ask, Jolene shoved Ruth to the side. Ruth realized quickly the peril when Jolene disappeared in a greenish flame. As the Shard left her body in a burst of blue light, all that remained of her was ashes. Tears formed in Ruth’s eyes. Perhaps Jolene’s foresight was accurate after all. The magical blaze formed a line among Ruth’s party. A severed hand was all that remained of Shawn and several more Shards flew back into the heavens. The day extracted a heavy toll. There was little time to mourn or think as the manticore was only just beginning its rampage.
The human forces could only gawk in horror as the monster circled them from on high. Ruth’s eyes narrowed as she saw the Maelim warlord atop the beast. The Scythe, Aunt Kathy called her. The manticore came around again. Ruth signed a spell quickly, and a white fireball shot out of her hands. The impact hit home, yet all it did was anger the creature. The patch of burning fur meant little to the beast.
It charged Ruth, claws out and teeth bared. Ruth conjured her shield quickly, but the impact was too much, and Ruth hit the ground hard. She had almost no time to react before the monster whipped its tail. Ruth rolled to the side, the spiked club grazing her armor and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Ruth staggered to her feet. She rushed to sign another spell, but the manticore didn’t give her any time. With a vicious swipe, Ruth’s armor was torn to shreds. The strike threw her off balance, and she hit the ground again. The monster’s eager snarling face leaned in, rows upon rows of sharp teeth descended toward Ruth’s throat.
But just before the creature could make the killing blow, a pilum struck the beast in the chest. It shrank back, and Ruth could faintly hear the thing wailing in agony. Clodius charged past Ruth on his horse, grabbing the pilum and pushing it deeper and higher, determined to pierce its heart. The manticore fell onto its back. Clodius grabbed his sword and stilt the monster’s throat. Black blood flowed, and the creature stilled.
The Scythe arose from beneath the corpse of her mount. She spun her namesake weapons, chopping Clodius’ horse from under him. Clodius leapt to his feet and locked blades with The Scythe. He quickly found himself on the back foot. His shield was strong, but each blow dented it, causing Clodius to wince. His sword wasn’t long enough to come close. All he could do was block and parry. It wasn’t enough to withstand her.
Before Clodius could react, his shield was broken, his helmet torn and a slash mark dotted his chest and torso. A kick shoved him to the ground. Ruth gasped in terror before snarling as she got to her feet. The Scythe turned to face her.
The two stared each other down.
“Thank you. You just saved me a lot of time. You’ll pay for killing my father and consort,” signed The Scythe. Ruth frowned, her Sign Language was similar to The Butcher’s, yet much sloppier and the words simpler. Indeed, when Ruth looked over this Maelim, she saw the worst of her father with none of his standards. Every movement of her body and her micro expressions belied hatred like layers of stone. What a tragic devolution of the Maelim race.
“They died due to their own actions,” Ruth signed back. “Their hatred and lust for slaughter and death consumed them.”
“You’re deluded and arrogant, like your Mother.” The Scythe grinned upon seeing Ruth pale. “Don’t worry, you’ll see her soon!”
Ruth couldn’t tell if she was lying, but it was a moot point. The Scythe charged Ruth, who quickly signed one of her most infamous spells. A familiar sizzling of the air was the only warning before an explosion rippled right where the warlord was. To Ruth’s shock and horror, the Scythe burst through the smoke, her armor shattered and her skin burned, but it did little to slow her down.
Ruth had to dodge the attacks quickly. Each swing brought her wretched scythes dangerously close to ending the fight. A glancing blow yanked off Ruth’s helmet, pulling hair out with it. Another slash hit her leg, tearing through armor and flesh alike. Ruth didn’t have the chance to scream as The Scythe roundhouse kicked her in the chest, knocking the wind out of her. She tumbled to the ground. Ruth clutched her leg, whisper signing a spell to stop the bleeding, fighting through the pain with grit teeth.
A group of legionnaires rushed The Scythe. Ruth used the distraction to get to her feet, panting heavily. She looked around, all she saw was chaos and death. So many had perished on this day, humans, Benelim and Maelim. The intervening legionnaires were ripped to pieces by The Scythe’s namesake weapons. Each blow sent limbs, heads and other chunks of flesh flying. It was a tragic waste of life, all due to this Maelim’s anger and hatred.
Ruth’s eyes narrowed. No more! No more bloodshed and death. The Scythe turned to face her.
Ruth's hands trembled in anger as she signed, “This ends now!” Ruth signed her spells and a flaming whip coiled in her hand. A longsword of white hot fire crackling in purple electricity appeared in the other. Driven by righteous fury, Ruth charged The Scythe. The warlord was unprepared for such a fierce onslaught and barely blocked the blows.
The Maelim’s martial prowess was good, but she had never traded blows with such magical weapons before. Ruth was not the same woman she was when she fought The Butcher. A decade of practicing and studying made all the difference. Ruth lashed out with her whip, coiling it around one of The Scythe’s arms, and tugged. With a crunch, the arm was yanked out of its socket, squirting black blood everywhere, taking away one of the scythes in the process.
Ruth’s sword locked with the other one, the strike was too much, and the warlord’s blade shattered into pieces. The Scythe had no time to react as Ruth tied her whip around her torso and pulled her forward. In the next instant, Ruth brought down her sword and cleaved The Scythe’s head from her shoulders. The body crumpled to the ground, to the cheers of humans and Benelim alike.
Ruth’s weapons vanished, and with a quiet exhale, Ruth fell to her knees. She felt so tired, never had she cast so many powerful spells so quickly. It was starting to hurt, she could feel her Shard throb under the exertion. Sheba helped Ruth to her feet. It relieved her immensely when she saw that Clodius was okay. It was an even greater relief when the Maelim force retreated upon seeing their leader slain.
Ruth never wanted to be in a battle ever again.
Ruth didn’t feel any satisfaction or elation, just the relief of survival. She felt disgusting and horrible, the blood dripping off her clothes. The stench of death, decay and burning would remain in her nostrils for months. The countless bodies, torn up, eaten, flattened, impaled, gouged. A carpet of broken corpses and flesh. She pitied even the Maelim dead. Indeed the combatants of all three races were united in death. It didn’t matter who was on what side, they were dead all the same.
The Maelim who weren’t able to flee surrendered. They looked upon the surviving legionnaires with fear in their eyes. Ruth and Clodius were unsure what to do at first. Enough blood had been spilt this day, and it was clear no one wanted to fight. Ruth’s Soulsight proved to be the deciding factor. These Maelim harbored no loyalty to The Scythe or her dead father.
Indeed, many of them were only following out of fear more than anything else. Fear of retribution if they didn’t join, and goaded on by lies about the nature of the Benelim and human realms. They were surprised when Ruth and Clodius let them go, after making them swear an oath to never attack either human or Benelim lands again. This suited them just fine. They merely wanted to go back to their lands in peace.