Page 132 of The Phoenix
Roark re-formed on a desolate cliff above the main Arisen Dawn garrison, now visible as if the spell had dissolved once they learned its location. It was a peaceful day. The sun about to rise. Then a slight breeze kicked up dirt. Birds sought the shelter of sparsely leafed trees. Ground squirrels darted for cover. They knew.
After shattering into a thousand brilliant colors, Roark snapped out his midnight wings to take to the skies. Catching a wind current, he rode in circles, observing the scene beneath him.
The garrison lay in the northwest corner of a valley, two sides snug against the mountains. To the south, the humans occupied the flat, open end of the area, large enough for their tanks and artillery. Nace’s forces held the southeast position with their backs to a high mesa. The jaguar commander half shifted, his claws long, his canines bared. Beside his unit were the Blood Coven, its most aggressive mages in front. The shielders covered the rear. A stoic Jarek took the northeast at the base of a range of lofty peaks, his warriors behind him, his runes dark against his skin. Kole spread his legs in a battle stance, high cliffs a backdrop to the north. With his eyes cast toward the ground, he shimmered with energy, fire licking across his flesh, his body trembling with leashed power, his loyal troops flanking him.
Scattered among the Firebrands were a vast number of gaffers and civilian fighters. Though not as skilled or confident as the warriors, they were here to fight for honorable Aeternals on Scath. Kudos to them.
Roark settled on a rise overlooking what would become the battlefield. Opposite him, on a craggy bluff, Chay brought his chu-ko-nu into position. With archers from all strongholds, mostly ylves, he took the high ground, a prime location to pick off the enemy.
From the garrison, the clatter of an army arose. Roark recognized the sounds of steel pounding shields, boots stomping on dirt, and loud war cries meant to bolster a fighter’s courage.
For the Coalition, it was a waiting game. They would not attack the fortress with its tall, thick stone walls. They would meet Arisen Dawn on the battlefield, stop their advance before they spread across Earth.
The immense iron-studded wood door groaned open, bit by bit. Like a portcullis on ancient castles, it rolled up, a grinding chain attached to a winch. Once it was fully raised, the valley shook when thousands upon thousands of Aeternals stormed through to face off against the Coalition.
The rumbling sounds were intended to frighten both weak and strong. When the enemy’s feet tramped the ground, weapons crashed against shields, fists pounded chests, and war chants rent the air. Arisen Dawn, disfigured by hatred, their bodies barely clad, hunger devouring their eyes, catapulted toward the awaiting armies. They gave no thought to order. Their strategy was to overwhelm with numbers.
All the while, the Firebrands stood ready with their allies in stony silence. Their gazes locked on the approaching hordes. Their chins high. Their hands steady. Their unnatural stillness as frightening as Arisen Dawn’s chaos. Their demeanor was cold, determined, assured.
Colonel Mateo Garcia led his special forces at the frontline of the human army, showing no signs of fear. They were armed with highly lethal, long-range weapons and wore sensors which allowed them to see at a greater distance with more precision. Big guns rolled into position behind them, firepower being the humans’ best defense. With the portals collapsed, nothing prevented their use. Outfitted drones and helicopters took to the air, the thrump, thrump, thrump of their blades ominous.
As if a silent whistle sounded, wildings from the surrounding regions on Darque appeared.
Overhead, a squadron of gigantic black birds with human-like faces speared into view. The harpies arrived from the west in V formation, eyes bright, their razored teeth bared. Sharp, crooked, taloned feet hung below the low-flying, ugly hags. The flapping of their wings sent a fierce wind across the valley, spreading their distinctive odor. Rotting flesh. They circled, preparing to tangle with the army’s airpower.
Charging down a mountainside, hellhounds thundered toward the battlefield. The pack, drool dripping onto their matted fur, arrived in a savage fury, growling, leaping, snapping. Behind them were stampeding questing beasts, their heads lowered. Their silver horns were weapons especially dangerous to vampires and shifters.
Not wanting to miss the action, brownish-gray-skinned gagans loped into the area. The naked wildings ran on all fours, their spines protruding along their backs, their tails sweeping through the dirt, kicking up dust. Their hands and feet sported large, curling, iron claws which they could launch like projectiles. Sharp canines dropped from their mouths. The hair, which sprouted from their heads in frightening tufts, bounced with each stride.
At least both sides would battle the wildings from Darque. The creatures had no favorites. Good or bad guys tasted the same to them.
The valley surrounded by rocky mountains and red sandstone mesas was the perfect spot for war. The perfect spot to die. With his wings pressed tight to his body, Roark absorbed his surroundings.
Kole held his arms at his sides, his fearless stare straight ahead. Via D-chip he, like the other Firebrand leaders, waited for the order from their high commander. Along with human generals, Cadmon was in the command post on one of the lower rises. From there, the attack signal would launch.
Arisen Dawn screamed toward the coalition armies. The Covenkirk commander lifted his chin. He raised a blazing hand overhead, fire exploding from his eyes. When he dropped his arm, his warriors smiled, their time come at last. Their shouts of battle rent the air, but Kole’s words rose above the din. “For duty. For honor.” He thundered into the fray, the animus demon’s beast ablaze, no sign of his human form.
Roark lifted into the sky, circling the battlefield, on the lookout for Cerberus or Lort. When he saw neither, he soared above Indigo.
The Blood Coven shimmered with power. Though they were not touching hands, their energies combined to produce a deadly force.
Margo shut down communication devices. Since she could now direct her spells where she wanted, she rendered only Arisen Dawn deaf. Afterward, she joined her friends to provide shielding.
Angry, snarling, hungry wolves surrounded Fin. She petted the head of the alpha, restraining him, bending to whisper in his ear. Then she signaled the pack to attack.
When Arisen Dawn neared, Chiara’s spells dropped them to their knees, punching inside chests to yank out hearts.
Braelyn seized minds, the fighters she targeted wandering the field, holding their heads, crying in pain before they collapsed to the ground.
Able to control those who had fallen in battle, Miller had a ready supply of soldiers. Their corpses rose to drive the wide-eyed enemy back in horror. More dead met his animated forces, a gruesome army which only fire could stop. When Cerberus’s troops discovered this, they sent mages and animus demons to oppose them.
Denim created blades of icy wind which cut through the combatants.
With magnetic power, Nico snagged weapons from his opponents before he turned them like boomerangs on their owners.
When soldiers got too close to frontline Blood Coven descendants, Skyler and others threw protective shields around them. The descendants had been right to fight as a unit. They were as deadly as the Firebrands.
Roark rode an air current, his gaze pinpointing Indy. Oskar rested on his beefy haunches near her. When she nodded at her conjured beast, he summoned twenty gryphons who could pass for cousins, each of them starved for fresh Arisen Dawn meat. Given the go-ahead, they snacked on opposing soldiers, picking their teeth with bones, favoring innards.