The Tears of Kas̆dael

Over the next few hours, they poured out the story of their trip to Als̆arratu. The barrage of questions that came their way was a painful reminder of the aftermath of the ill-fated expedition to Yarr-Khennor. But unlike the last time, the questions, while probing, weren't pointed. It had been nearly two days since they had slept, and as the interrogation dragged on, Jasper struggled to remain awake. Finally, Magister Mazor, noticing him swaying on his feet, took pity on them and let them go. “The enemy will be here soon enough, and we’ll need you for the walls. Go, sleep for a few hours. Someone will fetch you when it’s time.”

Jasper stumbled through the streets of the village, barely aware of his surroundings. Unlike the streets of the city aside, the residents of the village were still wandering around the marketplace, but their business was conducted with hushed tones and drawn brows, as they braced for the oncoming assault. Letting himself into their cottage, he didn’t even make it to the bed, but settled for the rich velvet sofa, nestling his face into the plush cushions before drifting off to sleep.

He could have sworn only a few seconds had passed when he stirred at the sound of vigorous pounding on the door.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he flung the door open.

A man in a guild uniform stood at the door. He frowned as he took in Jasper's sleepy eyes and tousled hair. “You’re not in armor yet? Get dressed, quickly. The army has been spotted from the city walls.” Rousing Ihra, he retrieved their armor and weapons, and the two hastily fumbled with their gear, while the man stood in the door, tapping his foot impatiently.

When the last buckle on his armor was fastened, the man tossed something at Jasper. “Catch.”

Caught by surprise, he barely managed to snag the wrapped object out of the air. Pulling back the wrappings, he revealed a small short sword. “What’s this for?” He held the sword up in the air, giving it a test swing.

The man nodded at the glaive leaning against the couch. “Your backup weapon is a glaive, right?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem?”

“You're not going to have a lot of room on the walls to swing that thing around. Hopefully, you won't even have to fight, but if you do, you'll thank me for the sword.”

The man pulled a list out of his pocket and ran his finger down the page until he came to a stop. “Alright - it looks like you have been assigned to the southern gate. Report to Captain Aniya as soon as possible.”

Jasper and Ihra followed him out the door, but he came to an abrupt stop as a welcome sight met his eyes. There, safely nestled in the small stables attached to the cottage, was Dapplegrim, her face firmly ensconced in a trough of oats. He ran over to greet the small horse, fishing in his satchel for a cube of sugar.

The attendant cleared his throat. “Ahem. Do you know the meaning of asap, guilder? And, unless your class requires a mount, leave the horse behind. As I said before, the walls will be crowded.”

Jasper blushed, and patted the horse gently, slipping it a sugar cube. “I’ll be back soon,” he whispered.

Reluctantly, he headed out the cottage gate and started running down the street towards the Sanctum's entrance. Ihra kept pace beside him, effortlessly matching his strides, as she slowly drew ahead of him. He watched her lithe form, sleek muscles undulating beneath the surface as her glossy flaxen hair bounced off her shoulders, and once again, his eyes were drawn to the nascent antlers. Those are definitely new.

Fortunately, despite the city's vast size, the gate they had been assigned to was fairly close to the guild hall. They made fast progress down the streets, still utterly bereft of life, as they followed the wide curving road that circumscribed the city. Within twenty minutes, he caught sight of the southern gate ahead.

A few guards manned a small barricade that faced into the city, perhaps designed to prevent foolish citizens from trying to escape. The guards tensed slightly when Jasper and Ihra came into view, the two running at a good clip toward the gate, but their shoulders eased when they spied the bright blue guild uniform peaking out from beneath their armor.

“Reinforcements?” they called.

“Yes, sir. We're supposed to report to a Captain Aniya?”

One of the guards waved them through, jerking his head back over his shoulder in the direction of the gate. “She’s up on the wall. There's a staircase in the left tower that will take you to the top.” The two thanked him and headed to the tower.

As Jasper trudged up the slender spiral staircase that rose to the top, occasionally getting glimpses of the outside through the narrow slits cut into the wall reminded, Jasper found his thoughts drifting back to a family vacation long ago, of the cramped and narrow staircase of a lighthouse they had climbed. Back then, by the time he had reached the top, his legs and lungs had been burning, but now he dashed up the steps with an effortless ease he could never have dreamed of. Am I even the same person?

But he had no time to dwell on his doubts, as they crested the top of the staircase. The walls were lined with a mix of soldiers, guilders, and citizens, standing shoulder to shoulder behind the crenellation. The motley crew struck Jasper as rather unprofessional, used to seeing the standardized gear and uniforms of modern militaries, and he wondered if they could really be effective. A moment later he realized how dumb that sentiment was. Last I checked, the soldiers back home weren't actually supersoldiers. He eyed one of the closet recruits, a somewhat portly citizen, whose chubby jowls shook with more than a little bit of fear. But the man picked up a massive crate of ammo - far too heavy for even the strongest back on earth to lift - and ported it down the wall without even a stagger to his step.

A yell broke through his trance and Jasper turned to see the woman who had been fighting with the man - Ellēs̆u? - back at the guild.

They trotted over to her. “Captain Aniya?”

The captain was an Amazon of a woman, with muscles that put even his system-granted biceps to shame, and as Jasper stopped in front of her, he was surprised to realize he was looking up at her.

She wasted no time getting to the point. “Have either of you ever been in organized combat - not a battle against a monster, but war?”

They shook their heads.

“Then listen closely. I do not want to see any heroics from you on the wall. Stay in line beside your fellow soldiers. Do not step back and leave a gap for the enemies to fill. If one of your fellow combatants falls off the wall, do not try to rescue them. Your job is to defend your tiny portion of the wall at all costs - nothing more. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She looked at Jasper more closely, and he could see the exhaustion in her eyes. “You’re a mage, right?”

She frowned. “You really shouldn’t be on the front lines at all. But…” she gestured at the motley crew of fighters around her “my objections were overruled, and the bulk of our forces was sent to the north gate. I simply don’t have enough warm bodies here for you to remain behind the lines. If we get attacked, don’t waste your magic on the horde. The twenty or so fireballs, or whatever spell it is you know, that you could cast before running out of essence would barely make a dent on the enemy. Save your spells - only use them when it can make the difference between life and death for yourself, okay?”

Jasper saluted, “Yes, ma’am.”

She looked at him oddly, and Jasper cringed as the realization struck him. They probably don't salute here. Dismissing him with a slight shake of her aide, she summoned her aide. “Take them to their stations.”

Jasper and Ihra were led to a spot on the wall far from the shadow of the tower. Jasper heaved a sigh of relief when they were stationed together, and they silently slipped into their spots.

The minutes soon slipped into hours as the wait grew agonizing, and the sun beat down on their heads relentlessly. Shortly after taking up their positions, the great horn of the city had blared, and a messenger ran along the walls declaring that the north gate was under attack. Jasper had relaxed a bit at the news - thank Selene - but Captain Aniya had sent another messenger commanding them to remain vigilant.

Thus the awkward waiting continued - coughing, quiet conversation, the shuffling of feet as the fighters tried to relieve the pressure of standing still for hours. But above all, was the sense of paranoia, which only grew as the dusk slowly gathered. The shadow of the trees grew long and dark and, with it, the fear that any moment the enemy would emerge through the twisted boughs.

A faint vibration ran through his body. The tremors were so light that he dismissed it as nothing more than the shaking of his tired limbs. What I wouldn't give for a chair. But then cries of alarm broke out along the walls. “Enemies approaching.”

Suddenly fully alert, Jasper leaned over the edge of the walls, straining his eyes as he tried to pierce through the shadowed trees. He futilely searched but saw nothing. Giving in, he turned to Ihra. “You see anything?”

She didn't answer at first, but after scanning the night sky, slowly shook her head. “Not yet.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, but a few minutes later, he winced as she elbowed him in the ribs. He followed her finger, as she pointed to something in the gathering gloom. “There.”

He saw nothing but trees, but he believed her. “How many?” he asked in a subdued tone.

She turned to him, her eyes wide with fear. “It looks like the whole army.”

Ellēs̆u batted down another wraith with a lazy flick of his arm. He frowned as he looked out into the shadowed forests below. A steady stream of the accursed wraiths and wights pounded against the wall, enough to keep his soldiers busy, but the fight was going far too well. Lady Aphora had warned them that this force was a serious threat to the survival of the city, but as far he was concerned, this was little more than target practice. Was the real army still hiding in the forest? Was the queen just probing his defenses?

Then the city horn blared. He waited, counting the blasts.

One.

Two.

Three.

Silence.

Damn it. Ellēs̆u whirled into action. “The south gate is under attack. Send reinforcements immediately.”

He turned to his second in command. “Jahdiel, take the lead.” Without waiting for a reply, he leapt off the walls. He landed with a boom, the pavement cracking beneath his weight, and he cursed as he noticed it. Lord Tzur's not going to be happy. He shrugged. Screw him. He took a quick glance over his shoulder and saw the reinforcements just starting to stream down from the walls. They're not going to make it on time, he realized. Making a snap decision, the seasoned captain charged down the street, his feet flying across the pavement as fast as a gazelle, as he tore through the city toward the southern towers. “Aniya’s going to have my head for this,” he muttered. If she survives. He refused to acknowledge the thought and redoubled his pace. Hold on Aniya, I’m coming.

Jasper ducked beneath the swiping claw of a wight, and stabbed his right hand up. The short sword easily pierced through the wight’s throat but came to a halt against its vertebrae. The wight sagged on top of him as he vainly tried to pull it free. Damn it. It’s stuck in the bone. He braced a leg against the body and pulled. His eyes widened as another wight crawled over the parapet and leapt at him. He let go of the sword, falling backward. As the wight soared over him, a pillar of flames erupted from Jasper’s hand, scorching it. With a scream, the now-burning wight fell over the wall, plummeting to its death in the streets below. With another kick at the now dead monster, he managed to free the sword and scrambled back into his place along the wall just in time to smash his sword into the grinning face of a wraith.

He had no sense of time in the battle. There was no time to think, only pure animal reaction as they desperately held off the endless swarm.

They were losing.

The line on the wall had grown thin. At the start, he had stood almost shoulder to shoulder with Ihra, but now he had more than enough space to use his glaive, if only he had brought it. Jasper danced back and forth across the wall, furiously slashing at any wayward hand or head that breached the top, but it was a losing battle. There were just too many.

He glanced back over his shoulder, and saw three wraiths pulling themselves over the edge twenty feet away. Knowing there was no way he could get reach them in time, he reached for his magic, and cast Sacred Star. He almost fell to his knees as a piercing pain split his head - his essence already having dropped to dangerously low levels - but he forced himself to watch through the pain. The five small balls of fire crossed the space in an instant. Two peeled off at the last second, dipping below the wall as they sought targets in the swarming horde below. But the other three smashed into their intended targets. A shower of burning guts exploded along the wall and a splatter of blood splashed across his face. He was too tired to care.

He took a weary step forward, back to his place on the wall, but screamed as claws raked across his back. Whirling around, a metallic ring struck his ear as his sword blocked the downward blow of a mace. A jolt of pain shot up his arm, the jarring impact almost causing him to drop his sword, but he somehow held on. Damn it. One of the armored ones. He leapt back just a moment before the wight swung the mace straight through the space he had been standing. Ignoring the throbbing in his head, he cast Fiery Shackles. The wight shrieked in anger as the burning claws wrapped around its legs. Ducking under another wild swing of the mace, he stabbed the sword through its eye. After a moment of twitching, the mace clanged uselessly on the ground. Jasper had no time to savor his victory, as he wearily slashed at a hand grabbing the top of the parapet.

Slash. Duck. Stab. Sacred Star.

This time the pain was too much to bear, and he fell to his knees. Screams ripped through the air, and through his mental haze, he finally realized they were his own. He went flying backward as a wight kicked him. He landed on the wall, his hand smashing into the pavement, as his sword spun out of reach. The wight charged toward him, only to be stopped a second later as an arrow sprouted through its throat. Thanks, Ihra. Scrambling backward, Jasper managed to snag hold of his sword and, with a savage swing, smashed it through the teeth of a wight clambering over the parapet. It fell backward, screaming as it plummeted into the rampaging horde below.

Fighting for breath, he grabbed hold of the wall. A glance showed the simple truth. The wall was lost. Besides himself and Ihra, only a handful of the defenders for their section still stood, and already more than a dozen of the creatures were pulling themselves over the wall. He sagged against the bloodied stone, unsure what to do next. Should he try to fight his way to the tower, where he could still see Captain Aniya's flag fluttering in the wind, or try to flee to the Sanctum?

But he had no time to decide. His blood ran cold as an overwhelming pressure manifested behind him. What now?