Page 46 of A Rising Hope (The Freckled Fate #3)

46

ZORA

O rest’s brown mare huffed as he brought her to an abrupt stop. His eyes were lost on the horizon, like he was seeing something I couldn’t. I rose my fist up, halting the large Destroyer army that followed behind us to a complete stop. A wave of rustling metal, lines and battalions froze in the endless meadows of the Esnox plains.

“Something is not right,” Orest murmured, taking another peek at the silver tree line ahead. The young forest luring us with a reprieve of shade. A drip of sweat rolled down my neck as I too listened for anything out of place.

Orest only had a second to drop the visor on his helmet before a giant arrow scraped the metal edge of his helm.

“They are here.” My voice dropped to a threatening growl as a large Destroyer army appeared from the timberline. Their silver armor reflected the bright daylight above. Line by line, they marched forward in unison.

Loud horns accompanied by the zing of their drawn swords and daggers echoed through the air, playing a deadly war prelude.

Their archers blanketed the cloudless sky with a rain of burning arrows blazing towards us.

“Hold!” Orest shouted, his voice like an echo, repeated by the battalion commanders, reached the very last soldier, readying the army for the battle.

I dared to glance down the line where most of the Ten stood near their spouses. Armed and ready. Swords, shields, axes, spears. Not a hint of panic, nor of hesitation. Their faces illuminated with courage, bravery, and the absolute viciousness that they were about to bestow on the ignorant enemy.

Another round of scorching long-bow arrows flew towards us—another invitation to play. But our armies stood still, watching the deadly armies of the Destroyers march towards us.

I knew sooner or later we would have to face them.

I knew this day would surely come. Because for every Destroyer that supported Gideon, there were ten more that would never accept his rule. A bastard-born Destroyer, one that broke the True Order, one that stole the raw fire from a true Destroyer, an abomination, one that must be destroyed from existence . They feared him; they hated him. In their terribly stubborn Destroyer nature, they would never obey him.

And thus, they had to die.

Our army was silent. The rushing of adrenaline in our ears was the only noise we heard.

Orest didn’t say a word. Waiting.

I knew we were at a disadvantage. Exposed in the open field—an easy target with no cover to retreat to. Worn out after a day-long journey from another conquered town to here.

More arrows flew our way, this time closer, reaching our shields.

Minutes until the crash of metal and flesh would erupt. The last seconds of eerie silence in the army settled deep in our hearts.

But we didn’t move. Our archers, ready and loaded, didn’t waste a single arrow waiting for our command. There was no point in depleting our quivers for useless, empty threats of what was to come. Theatrics didn’t win wars.

No, our waves of burning arrows would be sent to their retreating armies, leaving no soul alive in our path. Our swords and our axes would meet them where their shields fell and their fire flickered.

I knew Orest was counting the banners that wavered high in the air near the tree line. A frown deepened on my face at the recognition of the familiar insignias.

“Deedrum’s and Usup’s battalions are here too,” I mumbled. Orest nodded. Though led by new generals, Hosam’s and Andrias’s armies were more experienced, they still carried the scars from the battles of the same war many years ago. Now ready to face a new generation of armies willing to fight for the freedom of those they’ve oppressed.

I swallowed hard, forcing my hands to stay still as I held on to my crescent blade. For many soldiers that stood behind me, this was their first major battle, no longer against simple humans but against strong, experienced Destroyers. This was no longer a training exercise. All the preparations. All the fights and battles we had won led us to this. The only path forward was through the army that was upon us.

Primal fear rushed the blood through my iced veins. Fear triggered every single hair on my body to rise, aware of what would come in just mere minutes.

There wouldn’t be negotiations here. There wouldn’t be treaties to sign, no conversations to have.

Fight and live.

Or surrender and die.

A part of me prayed to the gods high above.

A part of me cursed them all for the same reason.

Another loud horn sounded. Their archers would reform into a defending position now, providing support lest flanks break.

I wrapped the black chain around my wrist, securing my crescent blades. The sharpened metal thirsted for blood like a starved animal.

“It’s time,” I whispered to myself, and Orest gave me a slight nod. I didn’t dare to look him in the eyes, though a part of me wanted to say my truth, to whisper my goodbyes in the face of the uncertainty. But I held my head up, staring at the approaching enemy ahead. His gaze lingered on me, heavy and lethal. But he didn’t say a word.

The enemy army no longer marched now they charged towards us, their loud horns sounding the deadly commands. Their roaring screams tore through the disturbed summer day.

I silently counted.

Ten . . . Nine . . . My heart raced in my chest. My warhorse pawed the ground, eager to join the fight. But I held the reins tight.

Not yet.

Not a single soldier of ours moved.

Draw them out, my mind commanded, orders and strategies shaping in my head like a map broken into puzzle pieces. My thoughts worked hard assessing each corner, where each piece fit until the answer and solution would be ready. Until the full picture would be clear.

Hold the line. Pull their armies far away from the advantageous cover of the trees into the open field.

Five . . . Four . . .

“Today, we fight!” Orest shouted as the soldiers tensed near him. “We fight for freedom. We fight for the lives of those who were lost in this unjust rule. We fight for the True Order! We fight for light! We fight for truth!” His words ricocheted through the crowd, a deadly melody uniting us all in the same song. He raised his sword high in the air. “And today, we fight till the very end.”

Near him, Broderick raised his sword up, loudly proclaimed,

“For truth!” The soldiers shouted repeatedly after him. “For freedom! And for those who have perished! May their spirits be with us and their blood and ash christen our way!”

Three . . . two . . .

A single breath.

One . . .

Metal, fire and blood all mixed into one. Lines clashed, calvary ran forward.

My ears rang, and I forced myself to focus. The fighting had always been so loud.

The men’s loud screams, grunts, and shouts filled the meadow as our armies struck at last.

My muscles burned. My chain flew like a viper, striking and searing every bit of skin it could find.

My horse reared—a fatal mistake. I jumped off the horse, rolling to the ground before it fell to the side, a spear probing it through its neck. Bright red blood stained its perfect white fur.

“Who let a little mouse on the battlefield!?” A large soldier roared with laughter, wiping away splattered blood on his face as he circled me with his sword, content to find an easy target.

“It’s not the mouse you should be afraid of but the snakes that follow it,” I snapped and before he could summon a lick of flames, my chain already flew and so did the crescent blades on them. I moved like lightning, not hesitating for even a thought.

“You’ll regret that,” he rumbled when my blade curved around his kneecap, ripping the ligament behind it. His large stature buckled under the weight, and he dropped to one knee.

I wanted to reply, saying I highly doubt that . But instead, I jumped, my chains flying ahead of me as I leaped over him, catching my blades just after the chain wrapped around his thick neck, choking him. Another split-second movement, I ripped his helm off, sinking my knife deep into his ear, twisting hard before his arms could reach me. His giant figure tumbled down, giving me a moment of reprieve as he died.

Like a wildcat on the hunt, I moved with precision and agility, careful of each step, only using my weak heat shields when absolutely necessary. There was no need to let the enemy know I had no fire. I was a fraud on the battlefield, masquerading as a soldier.

“That was a time to shield, Zora!” Orest hissed, sending his own shield towards me as I ducked from a large arrow flying directly at my back. I didn’t dare more than a momentary glance in his direction, but each time I looked, I always found his eyes meeting mine as he fought through the gruesome lines.

But even brief glances had a cost when more enemy soldiers marched from the forest down to the bloodied meadows.

Line by line, we tore through them all. Frayed and burned bodies piled in our wake.

So much carnage. So much blood. Lives and souls forever lost.

I jumped over a fallen soldier, ignoring the Bellator’s, Gideon’s, insignia on his armor. My heart dropped low in my stomach, but I forced myself to look away. He was dead. There was no help I could provide. The only path forward was to win this battle so his life, and the lives of so many others weren’t wasted.

Our armies pushed forward, carving each inch of the muddied ground. And so did I, praying and hoping that the next body that fell near me wouldn’t be of Orest, or the Ten.

My chains swung high, finding another target before he could realize what was upon him. He twisted, but I was already sending a kick to his knee, shattering the weak bone, using the heavy armor that the soldier wore to my advantage.

I was faster.

I was better.

I was deadlier.

He dropped to his knee once more and my blade found its mark as I carved his face. My strategy was simple, perhaps the only one that would work for someone like me—powerless and small. Surprise them, make them drop to my height, use everything I had to my advantage. Otherwise, I knew I wouldn’t survive. Attack first before they could send fire, move fast, blend in, go unnoticed, be untraceable. Only chains, no swords. Swords made me slow. Curved blades matched my every stroke, every twist and pull of my chains, moving in unison with my body.

I attacked again and again, only focusing on the next enemy to kill. I didn’t care that my palms were shredded by the chain, that blood slithered down my face from the deep and stinging cut on my cheekbone.

Kill them and then kill them some more—the only thoughts I allowed to linger in my mind.

The enemy horns sounded once, then twice, then thrice.

I jerked my blades out from the eyes of the enemy I just mauled. Orest, who refused to leave my sight, kicked a lunging soldier, piercing his armor with his sword.

“Are they retreating?” I questioned as the enemy soldiers pulled back, stumbling on their steps as they raced for the trees ahead. Orest’s brows furrowed deep, and he took a step forward.

“They are,” he answered, his eyes scanning the horizon. I didn’t need to see him to know he thought the same thoughts, felt the same panic I had at the notion.

“Why?” I said more to myself than to him. It was too early in the battle for this. There wasn’t a clear winner this far. Too soon. Too odd.

Something was wrong.

Why? Why are they retreating now ? Think, Zora, think! My thoughts shouted at me. Begging me to see what my eyes weren’t seeing. Like a deck of cards, my mind shuffled through every possible scenario, every possibility. Why . . . A small, lonely cloud passed above me, shielding me from the relentless sun for a fleeting moment, an insignificant passing. A clue.

My mouth dropped open.

The trees.

I knew then.

I turned to Orest and met his sharp look. He, too, already knew.

“Air cover. Now! Call for the air cover!” his voice roared commands to the battalions. Our war horns already sounded the pleading command.

“Push forward towards the trees. Let’s finish these motherfuckers!” I shouted, aware that our lives no longer hung in balance, our threads being slowly cut by a dull knife.

Battalion commanders repeated their orders. The calamity of battle was no longer about winning, but surviving as the entire army joined in on the chase, like a spear of an arrow ready to pierce the retreating enemy army’s belly.

I ran alongside so many. Shouts and screams united like a war song. My legs barked at me; my lungs burned, but I ran, hoping to outrun the dooming thoughts within.

We were too far from the trees.

We were too far out in the open. Even with the dragonflies, even with their fleet, we were simple feed, scattered for animals to pick at.

But there was no returning now, there was nothing to retreat to. Only forward.

More clouds raced towards us like they, too, were running to escape. Shadows covered the stretched, macabre meadow. The first loud screech erupted like thunder, the vile sound rattling my bones.

“Hold the lines!” Orest shouted, and I swallowed hard as the sky darkened.

And hundreds upon hundreds of eyeless creatures with leathery wings and sharp curved claws and teeth flew towards us, starved and ready to devour us.