Chronicles of the Exalted Sun Child

The attack came suddenly, the pervasive silence broken only by the rush of a speeding body, trampled bushes, and snapping twigs. 

 

Heron barely got his shield up when the Wyldling appeared behind them, spear in mid-thrust, aimed to skewer his head. 

 

Skrrtch!

 

Heron’s shield hand buckled from the force and the tip skidded across the metal, slipping past a second later only to impact his Facet-made hardened air shield and knocking him off his feet.

 

Animus circulated inside Yuriko as she lunged at the creature, blades sweeping high and low.

 

It twisted its spear haft, blocking both of her weapons, leaving sparks dancing in the air. It stepped back, pausing long enough to give all of them a good look before it gave a flurry of stabs that Yuriko struggled to parry.

 

The Wyldling was barely larger than they were, maybe a couple of inches taller than Yuriko. It was slender and moved like a snake. It was shaped like a person and would have been naked if not for the iridescent scales that covered every inch of it. The Wyldling’s wiry arms held more power than Yuriko expected and she slowly gave ground, fending off the darting attacks with concise movements. 

 

She had sunk herself completely in the sword dance. Her circulating Animus gave her nudges every moment, tugging her hands this way and that in a seemingly random manner that turned out to be the correct path to block whenever the creature struck. 

 

Except for its eyes, which were a deep dark blue, its face was completely featureless. It only had slits for nostrils and its lipless mouth was pressed close. Its ears jutted out though like knives pointing back. It was bald, the top of its head covered in fine scales that rose in little spikes and ridges. The spear it wielded was identical to what Heron had, a metal haft that could collapse for easy handling and a diamond-shaped spearhead with razor-sharp edges. 

 

The next few seconds pushed Yuriko to her limits and yet the creature wasn’t even breathing hard. It was thrusting one handed and its stance was almost languid. Slowly, its lips curled into a smirk. 

 

A bolt of plasma splashed against its Protective Field and it snarled in response. More bolts peppered its Field, which slowly cracked under the pressure. 

 

“Keep it up!” Orrin yelled as he channelled his Animus into his pistol. 

 

“Back!” Mikel yelled and Yuriko dodged out of the way of a stream of fire blasting out from the boy’s hands. 

 

The Wyldling dodged out of the way, springing to the side and into the bushes while Mikel followed its movements. The flames clung to the creature’s Field, burning the energies it used to protect itself. Unfortunately, Mikel ran out of juice before the flames could break through.

 

Fire clung onto the leaves and branches, spitting out acrid smoke. Heron hovered protectively around Mikel, Orrin, and Krystal while Yuriko scanned their surroundings. She would have thought the iridescent scales would give the creature away but it was nowhere in sight. The rustling of the bushes and the grunting of swarmlings could soon be heard, however.

 

“Run!” Yuriko yelled. “Go north!”

 

Nearly as one, the team ran back along the path, though not quite directly north. Yuriko followed suit, focusing her Animus on her hearing, hoping to get a warning in case that creature returned. She kept the circulation pattern of the second sword dance active, ready to defend as soon as a threat manifested. 

 

Krystal led the way, and Yuriko could hear her laboured breathing.

 

‘I should have pushed her to run more,’ she thought regretfully. Though the short training time they had before going to camp would not have made much of a difference.

 

For the next few minutes, they managed to keep up the pace. The swarmlings remained out of sight and the other creature didn’t make another appearance. 

 

“Get off the path!” Yuriko yelled, but Krystal shook her head.

 

“It’ll only…slow us down...” Krystal gasped.

 

They crossed a shallow brook and continued their flight. At some point, Krystal took a fork on the path that they didn’t come from but seemed to lead them further north. Eventually, they found themselves in a clearing that was a dozen paces wide.

 

“What was that?” Orrin gasped, he was bent over and gasping for air. The rest of them had stopped as well, trying to regain their breaths. Yuriko looked around; the sense of danger was still there.

 

Not a second later, the creature rushed out of the undergrowth, its scales a shade of green mottled with yellow. It had a feral, triumphant grin on its face and it stabbed its spear at Mikel. 

 

“Ahh!” Mikel screamed as he scrambled out of the way, the weapon cutting a line along his left cheek. 

 

“Haah!” Yuriko struck, sword glowing gold as her Animus swiped at the creature’s Field, cutting past it a moment later. She could only reach its hand from where she stood, the tip of her blade scraping against its scales.

 

Orrin’s hands glowed red as he pushed against the creature’s leg, knocking its balance askew, enough for Yuriko to get close enough for a powerful thrust. Her weapon punctured the Field easily, her Animus pattern set on the third dance. The tip pierced its side but it sunk no more than a fraction of an inch inside before she felt a powerful counterforce push the blade back and out. 

 

It swung its spear like a cudgel and she ducked under it just enough to keep it from braining her. She shifted to the second dance smoothly enough that she was able to ease a second strike away from her. 

 

The Wyldling was faster and stronger than she was. Its strikes were lightning-quick, barely within the level of her current kinetic vision. The fact that her second dance always nudged her into the optimal position and form was the only thing that allowed her to fend off its attacks. 

 

It wasn’t as skilled as it was strong. Objectively, it was even worse when it came to spear technique than Mikel. Well, it was that or she was slowly getting used to how it moved and its attack pattern. At least until it changed it up.

 

After she parried its thrusts, it dropped the weapon and lunged at her. Sharp claws came out of its hands and both came at her in a knife-hand strike. A panicked backpedal was the only thing that kept her from being skewered and her flailing blades fended it off. Unfortunately, the movement also broke her dance and the disarray in her Anima momentarily paralysed her. 

 

“Yuri!” Heron shouted as he rushed forward, taking the creature’s strike with his buckler.

 

It thrust the other hand at his face which he swiftly met with hardened air. The creature put more of its weight on the first strike and the metal of the buckler strapped to his forearm twisted at the force while deflecting the hand up. The sharp claws punctured Heron’s shoulder and only a plasma bolt to the face stopped it from ripping Heron’s arm off. Droplets of his blood sprayed at the creature. 

 

Golden light flared as Yuriko put as much of her Animus as she could into the third dance, striking while its claws were out of position. Its Field, long since depleted from the continuous attacks, flickered feebly as her right-hand sword broke through. 

 

The blade cut into its arm, shearing through scales, muscle, and bone. 

 

“Grraaah!” It gave a high pitched scream as it clutched at the stump before it backpedalled and disappeared into the bushes.

 

Heron’s left arm hung limply at his side, several red spots staining his green forceweave jacket. Yuriko gritted her teeth, eyes glowing gold. The creature was moving away quickly and though she wanted to grab her rifle and pop its head, she turned to Heron instead. 

 

He pulled his jacket open and pressed his hand against the wounds, his face pale. His hand was glowing blue. The colour of his Animus was remarkably close to the shade of the Wyldling blood, Yuriko thought absently.

 

“Krys, help dress his wounds please,” Yuriko said while keeping her weapons at the ready. Though the Wyldling had run off, there was no telling if it might decide to circle back. Its severed hand and forearm had landed close by, dripping bluish blood out of the end. 

 

The abandoned spear lay next to a large fallen branch, the tip stained with Mikel’s blood. Krystal had her pack in front of her and she quickly extracted a bandage, a bottle of disinfectant, and a first aid pouch. Heron undid the buttons on his shirt. The wounds were near his shoulder joint, but it didn’t look too deep. At least the punctures weren’t spurting blood.

 

Krystal wiped his skin while he hissed in pain. She then slathered ointment on it before taping a square bandage over it.

 

“Try not to use your left hand for now.” Krystal gave him one last check before putting away the first aid pouch. 

 

Heron nodded and transferred the buckler to his other arm. 

 

“Let’s go.” He said through gritted teeth. 

 

They left the stolen spear where it lay but Mikel blasted the severed arm with fire until it was nought but ash. The blood seeping down his cheek gave him a ruthless look.

 

“That’ll be a nice scar,” Krystal said softly.

 

“Huh. What’s this?” He muttered. He walked up the ashes and picked up a glimmering crystal. “A Chaos shard? But we didn’t kill it?”

 

“Just bring it along,” Yuriko said. 

 

The forest remained eerily silent as they left the clearing.

 

*-*-*

 

Eilis Sive Merill ran up to the council chambers where the Alderman Rivos and Celebrant Ramus waited. Her gait was uneven, her hair in a careless bun, and there were bags under her eyes. She hadn’t slept since they received word of the Wyldling Wave. 

 

For the past day, the town’s defences had been active. A dome of silvery light covered most of the square, sheltering its most important buildings. The lamps along all of the streets shone with purple light, which made it nearly unbearable for the swarmlings. Meanwhile, the militia contingent in charge of guarding Faron’s Crossing had been taking potshots at any critter daring to come close. 

 

Eilis herself had been at the line, battering away at the creatures with blasts of eldritch flame, ice, and lightning. Her supply of personally crafted runestones was dwindling though she had enough to last this entire siege. Or, at least, she hoped so. 

 

Each house in the outskirts of town had been evacuated, their residents huddling in the prep school, or in the Temple. The sturdy nature of the residences and their flat roofs served as fallback platforms or as points of attack outside the barrier. The twisting nature of the roads, along with their enchantment slowed the creatures and negated their Protective Fields. 

 

Even with all that though, Faron’s Crossing was barely holding on. The attack had been too sudden and the swarmlings too numerous. It was a good thing that there weren’t many Wanderers or, Ancestors forbid, Hunters in the assault. She was pretty sure that the outlying villages of Northwold, Sonsa, and Cierra would be overrun soon and there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. 

 

The door to the council room was ajar and she could hear loud voices from inside. She entered without much ado. Alderman Rivos and Celebrant Ramus’ voices cut off and they turned to her. 

 

“Spellweaver,” Alderman Rivos nodded. “Tell me some good news.”

 

Eilis sighed. “There’s none to be had. There’s still no word from the Watchtower and the Communications Array isn’t able to contact them. I’ve sent word to Rumiga City and asked for reinforcement. This is clearly something we cannot handle by ourselves.”

 

“What? Why did you do that?” the Alderman complained. “Faron’s Crossing is still in its probation period. If we cannot hold our land by ourselves, our council will be replaced.”

 

“Better we get replaced than lose everyone,” Eilis said evenly. “Besides, I think this is beyond the scope we’re expected to face.”

 

“Hrrmm.” Alderman Rivos frowned. “How is it going?”

 

“No deaths so far, not of the townsfolk anyway. The foreign and trade quarter is holding its own; some of them crossed the river to shelter in the Temple while others have already evacuated. I don’t have an estimate on property damage but the swarmlings won’t go through buildings if nobody is inside anyway.”

 

“Do you think we should evacuate?”

 

“No, we shouldn't leave. We have fortifications here and if we leave, we’ll be caught in open ground,” Celebrant Ramus groused.

 

Alderman Rivos paced nervously around the council chambers. 

 

“Sir, if you have nothing else for me, I will create more runestones.”

 

“Oh, uh, yes. Go ahead, Spellweaver.” Rivos ran a hand over his salt and pepper hair. 

 

Eilis nodded to the two men but just before she could leave the room, a guard burst in, with a couple of teenagers behind him.

 

“Alderman!” The guard, a young woman in her twenties, motioned to her two companions. “Word from the Watchtower! These two are trainees tasked by Vice-Commander Stuart--”

 

Alderman Rivos cut the guard off and waved the trainees in. “Come in and sit. Thank you, Guardswoman Kasel.”

 

“Sir.” She saluted but didn’t leave the chambers, clearly curious about the message.

 

The taller boy with dark skin and silver hair stepped forward, gave a salute with his right fist over his heart.

 

“Sirs,” the silver-haired boy said, “ I am Kale Oona Kinnock, tasked to bring word from the Watchtower to the town of Faron’s Crossing. Here, please read the letter. I did not activate its enchantment of sending as I feared the Wyldlings might intercept it.”

 

“Understood.” Alderman Rivos took the letter and the three of them read Vice-Commander Stuart’s short message.

 

“Fallen Sun,” Eilis grunted, “I thought something like that had happened because of all the swarmlings but is that all he wanted to send?”

 

“He is what he is,” Celebrant Ramus said placidly. “I think you’ve already done what he was hinting at anyway.”

 

“You’ve called for reinforcements?” Eilis looked at Silvertop flatly. He coughed. “I apologize.”

 

“Regardless, this is out of our hands. I hope the Imperial Legions arrive quickly,” Alderman Rivos said drily.

 

“You two, report to Constable Andersen for reassignment. Unless you want to return to the Watchtower?” Eilis said to the boys.

 

“No, ma’am. We’ll support the town here.”

 

“Very good. Then we have a lot to do.”