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FLUMPH

Mercenary Stronghold

“Fuckin’ hell!”

An explosion rocks the entire fuckin’ universe an’ I flys up to the big wall to see what the hell up with all the noise.

The sentries scramblin’ ‘round to see if they see somethin’, but they ain’t got eyes like me.

I stares off into the distance an’ spy a huge asshole ridin’ a stag.

.. er is it a moose? Either way, it be fuckin’ ginormous. An’ I knows who it is.

I recognize Variant anywhere. He lookin’ all smug-like as he ride towards the stronghold with his army behind him. Them stinky fuckin’ orcs an’ goblins runnin’ ‘round like a bunch o’ crazy chickens.

I hurry over to blows on the horn that lets everyone know we’s under attack, but my little lungs ain’t strong ‘nough to gets the job done. Variant leap from him’s mount an’ fly over the wall, landin’ on top of the Hall of Clans like some perverted version of a gargoyle.

He stand there all high an’ mighty with hims hair blowin’ in the wind an him’s wings spread.

The others ain’t got no idea what goin’ on!

I run quick as I can an’ try to get to them, but it too late.

Variant raise him hands an’ I see lots of fuckin’ magic flowin’ from his palms. Big ass chunks o’ the wall start fallin’ off.

It happen so fast, the guards don’t know whats to do.

The barracks begins to crumble like a cookie left in milks for too long.

I hurry to find Noni ‘cause she my friend an’ all. But I can’t fuckin’ find her. She ain’t in the kitchens or the hospital.

My poor wings can’t go no faster. I dodgin’ spells an arrows, but I don’t gots my crossbow to fight back. I hate feelin’ so helpless again. Finally, I see some o’ the other clans fightin’ against Variant’s forces. Kolvar and Aima at the front, o’ course.

“Hey! Ass Face?! You seen Noni?”

The satyr shake him’s horny head an’ tosses Aima towards a horde o’ enemies. I real tired o’ them orcs lookin’ at me like I their supper or somethin’. Another fuckin’ explosion nearly blow my ass clean off my body…

I hits the wall an’ my eyes go all blurry-like for a minute. Big hands reaches down and pulls me up from the ground. I starin’ into the eyes of a slobbery goblin prick. Them isn’t ‘pose to comes out of their caves, but here they fuckin’ are!

I jump on its face an’ dig my hands into him’s eyes, pushin’ in real deep ‘til the pus oozin’ out an’ he drop me. I try to fly, but my precious wing ain’t movin’.

“Noni! Where the fucks is you?!” I really hopin’ she ain’t hurt. She real annoyin’ an’ all cuddly-like but I don’t hate her none. “Noni!”

I turn the corner an’ shuffle toward the fuckin’ mage tower where two o’ my other small fae friends is.

Motis an’ Isabelle... I sees the tiny little bodies o’ the fae critters lyin’ in piles.

Their faces is starin’ at me with no life if they eyes an’ it hurt worse than I thought it ever would.

I lost lots of friends, ‘specially when Anona used to get real mad. I thought here was different, but here an’ there is all the same.

I ain’t got nothin’ else to do but crawl in the pile an looks for Noni.

***

EILISH

Mercenary Stronghold

The walls shake with a thunderous force.

Pyre leaps out of bed and summons his robes as Baron and I change back into our gear.

I scramble for my boots as a bow appears in the necromancer’s hand.

Being in this realm already makes Pyre a bit weaker than normal, but severing half of his power has drained his energy severely.

Baron tosses me the boot I was missing and dashes for the window.

He peels back the curtain and curses under his breath.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Orcs, demons, and goblins mostly, but there are a few fae among them.”

I look to Pyre.

He reaches into the still healing Veil and peers through the eyes of a spirit. Gone is his white stare. Instead, a set of violet orbs stare back at me. He presses a kiss to my lips.

“I’m heading up to the roof. Be careful. Both of you. Variant is here.” And then he disappears into the corridor. Smoke and debris cause me to cough and sputter into the sleeve of my tunic. Baron is right beside me.

I push my way through the collapsing hall and into the war room.

Baron shouts my name in the distance, but I must get the map.

The dagger in my hand grows heavier with each use as it absorbs the souls of the wicked.

But I grip it firmly as I fight my way over to the table and snatch the map before a large orc can reach it.

The orc pulls its lips back and releases a chilling sound.

I sprint back towards the door, only to stop short when the orc gives chase.

When we collide, I bury my blade in his belly.

The orc writhes on the ground as I hurry back to Baron.

He’s not where he was when I went to get the map. But I don’t have time to look for him.

The stronghold trembles.

I exit the collapsing compound and run out into the streets.

Dark tendrils of fire coil towards the sky.

The stench of rotting flesh and burning corpses batter my senses and I nearly heave.

But the sound of arrows whistling through the air keeps me on my feet.

Pyre stands tall on one of the towers, firing arrows in rapid succession.

His hands move in a blur of motion and he hits his targets with deadly accuracy.

His mask is back in place, obscuring his features from my sight, but I know he’s worried.

Creatures fall from the sky with arrows embedded in their skulls or protruding from their chests.

I sense Baron and search for him among the orcs, slashing through any of the hideous beasts that cross my path.

Hot blood sprays across my face as Baron cuts down a troll.

He catches my eye and runs to me, checking to make sure I’m okay.

I tell him I am and he shoves me into the mage’s guild house.

“Pyre,” I start.

Baron shakes his head. “He was too far away to see us. If he gets into too much trouble, he can disappear into the ether.” He gives me a cold, hard stare. “Don’t worry for Pyre. Worry for yourself.”

Dragan and Myerdoth burst inside a second or so later. We slam the door and pause to catch our breath.

“The walls are barely standing. Our soldiers are trying to hold on as long as they can, but many are still injured,” Myerdoth announces. “There should be one last gate that hasn’t fallen, but if we’re going to defend the people here, we’ll need to buy them time to escape.”

“There are too many of Variant’s forces and we weren’t ready for a fight of this magnitude,” Dragan adds.

The decisions fall to me.

“We need to split up. Use the communication rings and stay within range. With three towers down, we’ll be limited, but they’ll still work. First, we have to find our people.”

The door opens. Dragan is the first to charge into the fight. Myerdoth takes to the roof to glide down on his enemies from the blackened sky. He doesn’t have long. The sun will rise soon and Myerdoth will turn to stone if we don’t hurry.

Baron is next to leave, but I’m close behind. The orcs corner us. Baron moves to cover me from behind as I hold my blade at the ready, watching as bloodlust enters the eyes of Variant’s minions.

“Got any ideas on how we’re getting out of this?” Baron asks dryly. “Think they’ll go away if we ask nicely?” He twirls his daggers, silently taunting the orcs.

“Is this always how you are in a fight?”

“How is that?”

I smile at him. “Annoying.”

He tosses his head back, booming with laughter in the narrow passage of the alley. “Pyre and the others think I’m batshit crazy. They aren’t wrong, but it’s still fucking rude to point it out.”

Baron fights with an energy I envy. I know the three of us are weaker after the transfer of guardianship, but the vampire fights as though he enjoys himself. One by one, the orcs begin to dwindle. Screams float through the air as homes and shops are raided. I see someone from the corner of my eye…

Variant.

Baron uses his shadows to move swiftly through the fray, leaving behind a trail of gutted corpses. I see an opening and lurch through. I knock goblins out of my way as they snap their jaws at me. Pyre begins to shoot down anything that blocks my advances towards the Hall of Clans.

Demons.

Large demons charge in my direction only to be dropped by Pyre’s arrows. I blow him a kiss and race towards the doors as he gives me a silent nod of approval.

The moment I step through the door, a battalion of Unseelie stand before me.

They raise their weapons and demand my surrender.

I can’t help but smile as I toss my dagger.

It strikes one of the soldiers in the chest and he lets out a tortured howl.

Two soldiers attack me at once, but I evade the first and take a harsh blow to the ribs from the second.

I roll when I hit the ground and run towards one of the open archways.

Spears fly through the air and imbed themselves in the wall behind me, just inches from my head.

“Surrender to the king!” they shout in unison.

I duck behind a column for cover.

And just beside me, a soldier materializes from the air and stabs me in the shoulder.

The wound burns fiercely before it fills me with unbearable cold.

My lips turn blue as I gasp for air. When he comes in for the killing blow, I hoist my hands up at him and thrust my energy at him.

The Unseelie is taken aback when my power throws him off his feet.

Taking a deep breath, I rip the knife from my shoulder and use it to stab another soldier.

Frost drake blood is often used to create potent venoms to lace weapons and that’s exactly what was covering the blade. Baron often carries a vial or two in his pouches. I recognize the unsettling sensation immediately as it slows my movements.

My back aches as I lean against the column. I can’t stay here forever.

I lay my hand over the wound in my shoulder and the familiar crimson smoke fills the hole.

I search deep inside for the pain that still lingers and I leech it from my blood.

The sound of footsteps come from my right.

I spin around and channel the pain into the Unseelie soldier.

He stumbles back with a startled expression on his face.

The others look on in horror. I use their shock as a distraction and reach towards the ancient weapons that King Galmer displays in the walls.

They tremble as my magic weaves itself around each blade, hammer, and spear.

When the soldiers charge me once more, the weapons fly off the wall and pin them to the floor.

Blood pools all around them, soaking my boots.

Finally, the way ahead is clear. I don’t know how long it will last as dark creatures continue to spill into the stronghold.

I summon my courage and hurry towards the staircase that leads to King Galmer’s quarters.

It’s the only way to access the roof of the Hall of Clans.

The door at the top of the stairs bows outward before rippling.

I touch my hand to the wood gingerly before yanking it back.

The tips of my fingers are blackened with magical residue.

The sound of scraping claws and shrill cackling reaches my ears.

The fight isn’t over.