Ahrden and Alia were having breakfast on the balcony of Alia's, which now also was Ahrden's. They had a set table in front of them stacked with pastries, fruits, and coffee that Alia had quickly learned to love. They were both enjoying the peaceful morning and the process of filling their empty stomachs while Alia talked about her most recent adventure. She had gotten back from a long assignment and now had a few days off when she was free to do whatever she wished, and these breakfasts were always part of that.
They had gotten used to living together and grew very close in that short amount of time. Neither of them knew how much they craved to have a relationship like this, but now that they had it, they cherished every moment of it.
With Ahrden being a mage, it wasn't hard to keep his presence a secret, so they didn't need to worry about that, but not being able to freely walk down the street was something that bothered both of them.
Not far from where Alia lived was an exquisite bakery, and when Alia brought back the delicious pastries, they were still warm. The butter melted on them like a dream, and Ahrden had just taken a bite a little larger than he should have when he felt the wards around Belentedor trigger. He stopped chewing, and Alia noticed it immediately.
A muffled curse escaped Ahrden's full mouth, because despite everything, he knew that he would go and aid his nation. Based on what he felt through the wards, surviving this coming encounter was going to be a challenge; this feeling was an excellent way to ruin the merry breakfast.
Alia didn't rush him; she knew that he would tell her when he could. Sure enough, when Ahrden was free to talk, he filled her in.
'An army so big I do not even wish to look at is at Belentedor.'
Alia's jaw dropped.
'I guess we are late with the alliance now,' Ahrden continued sadly.
He stood up and walked inside to prepare for battle, similarly to how an old warrior would prepare to keep watch for the night. Once Alia recovered from her shock, she rushed inside after him.
'Details! Details. What do you know?'
'Not much. I got my wards to trigger on time, so I am surely not late, but other than feeling a massive army, I don't know much,' Ahrden replied casually.
He wasn't sure why he was so relaxed about any of this.
'What is going on? Are you all right? You seem off.'
'I am off, to be honest,' said Ahrden, turning towards Alia. 'In my head, I am still having breakfast with you, just over there, but soon I'll be fighting for my life because our leaders wouldn't listen to us.'
'Let me come with you.'
'You know I am not going to do that.'
Alia knew.
Ahrden had changed into a durable leather outfit which passed as his combat clothing and fastened Duskedge to his side. He calmed his mind, cleared his thoughts, empowered his body with arcane, and cast a few protective spells around himself along with some cloaking ones. Alia had seen him do these before, but never before battle. She was worried beyond imagining. She knew how powerful Ahrden was, but she also got to experience first-hand that his instincts were not honed over the years. Some of what he lacked was compensated by the arcane empowerments, but not all, and that made her worry dearly.
When Ahrden was done, they looked at each other. They embraced and kissed. When they drew back and Ahrden looked into those piercing green eyes and saw the sparks from the unshed tears, he didn't bear to drag it on—he teleported.
Not knowing what to expect, he teleported to the top of the City Hall to see everything that was happening. And a lot of things were happening. Ahrden was sure that his wards would signal in time, but his confidence was misplaced. An all-out battle had formed by then with the entire Velintenal army on one side and what his own Polenteus nation could muster.
Despite all the thoughts crossing his mind, Ahrden remembered the Arcane Agent mocking his wards. The fact that the Agent knew that this would happen was blood-chilling, to say the least, especially since there was another prophecy that the Agent had foretold which, if true, would be infinitely more terrifying.
The battle took place on the clearing in front of Belentedor, but since the forest around the capital had been burnt to the ground by Inferno, what surrounded them was not a forest but rather the blackened, scorched ground with tree stumps dotting the entire landscape. Many casualties had already occurred on both sides, but the fate of the battle was already sealed. The Velintenal nation had an army many times the size of what his nation had, and it seemed they had marched their entire force here, just for this battle.
The Velintenal army could have used tactics to surround the Polenteus army or lessen their casualties in other ways, but it was clear they didn't even bother with such planning. They were going to win by sheer numbers, and their plan was coming along nicely. No matter how well Ahrden's nation fought, the soldiers could not kill enough enemies before they died.
Although it looked like just a battle, Ahrden knew that it was more. This battle held the fate of the future of his entire nation. If they were to lose, Malitez would not order his army back after they had looted the capital. He would not leave a smaller portion to keep the peace in the rebellious but otherwise powerless city. Malitez would not use such old-fashioned but time-proven methods. He would wipe any trace of Belentedor from the face of this Valley and with it render the Polenteus nation powerless. He would then merge what land the nation had with his own, further growing his empire. There would be no Polenteus nation after this battle, and only the Nethedral nation would oppose Malitez.
With each second, the Polenteus army grew visibly thinner, while the enemy could still not fit their entire force on the clearing. The future of his nation and the Valley was at stake, yet the outcome was already known before the battle even began. But now Ahrden was here. His task was again impossible, but he was getting good at that, and now he had an army of his own at his back. He was unsure about the scale of impact he could make here, but it was already decided that he would give his everything to preserve the people and the nation that no longer was truly his own.
The battle was concentrated on the front line where the two armies collided, so Ahrden teleported to the edge of it where the clearing and the front line ended. He still found it odd that the enemy army didn't attack the smaller army from the side since now not even the forest stood in their way, but he knew there had to be a reasonable explanation for it. Either way, this made his life that much easier.
Ahrden stood next to the front line where the two armies met, which went all the way to the other side of the clearing in a relatively straight line. Bodies littered the ground everywhere, and the soldiers couldn't have done much but fall over them if this line hadn't been slowly moving towards the capital.
Ahrden didn't need to single-handedly win the entire battle. What he needed was confusion, doubt, and worry on the enemy side, and renewed strength and bravery on his own side. These he was more than capable of providing.
Ahrden walked further down the line of the Velintenal army until he was at the third or fourth row of enemy soldiers. He wasn't invisible, but all the cloaking spells enabled him to move undetected next to the soldiers, who were untrained in these regards while also being occupied with the battle.
Ahrden was very confident and efficient with his own spell, and he cast the fog with ease. It spread in a wide corridor down the path of the enemy ranks with impossible speed. Everyone noticed the unnatural, dense fog as it formed a tall wall, but no one could do anything about it. Initial worry arose in the soldiers that it might be poisonous, but when nothing happened after they breathed it in, they tried not to pay too much attention to it.
When Ahrden stepped into it, he felt good about his chances; he could feel everything within, he could feel the sluggish movements of the already armour-clad soldiers, while he could pounce around them nimbly. He drew the broken Duskedge and channelled his power into it. He watched with awe as the arcane power flowed through its handle down to the first rune, then the second, until the whole blade was enveloped by it. Then it spread onwards, forming the rest of the blade that was missing. Ahrden had never had official training with a sword, only what he got from studying his family's Book of Knowledge. His father made sure that he was versed in hand-to-hand combat, but even he hadn't forced him to learn how to wield a sword—though Ahrden regretted that now. What he did have was the imbued knowledge of Duskedge, which he could unlock with his magic. He combined that with his own spell that impaired the enemy and the cloaking spells he had on himself. No soldier stood a chance against him.
Ahrden moved into the enemy army like a blur, and that was all he was to them while he was in there. He cut soldiers down left and right, causing panic unseen before by any of the veterans there. No armour stood a chance against his sword, and no soldier stood a chance against him. The only thing that was faster than him was the news that something terrible was slaying the Velintenal soldiers by the dozens.
The soldiers at the front could no longer take for granted that their backs were protected, while the distraction that their dying comrades brought was more than enough for a Polenteus soldier to capitalize on. As chaos spread across the giant army, orders could not be delivered fast enough, especially since the threat was still something they didn't understand. The Polenteus soldiers also saw what was happening, and they asked no questions about why they were being helped; they just used what was given.
When Ahrden reached the other end of the clearing, he looked back and saw the damage he had made in the Velintenal army. He didn't feel guilty about the means he used to fight them, the way they didn't feel remorse about wiping out nations less than half their size. What little doubt he had about his methods at the beginning was quickly washed away by the blood and death that surrounded him.
Ahrden teleported up into the air and looked around. He was able to locate the general and his small circle of advisors that surrounded him. Ahrden could see that the group was busy staying on top of things, and to their credit, they indeed were able to keep the army together and not let the basic instincts of the soldiers halt their attack. For this reason, they needed to die.
As Ahrden fell, he teleported into the inner circle. His arrival was not quiet, and as a result everyone noticed him. The cloaking spells were wearing off, and all the mud and blood he had gotten on himself weren't helping the spell either. It mattered little now because stealth wasn't a priority anymore, but that didn't stop him from creating the fog around himself. What Ahrden needed was a little time, but it seemed that the very best soldiers had been reserved to protect the general and his advisors, because swords were already drawn and the guards were about to jump on him.
Ahrden thrust his sword into the ground and immediately sent the freezing spell in every direction around him. He knew that it would have taken too much effort to freeze everyone present, so that wasn't his goal—instead, it was to slow the movements of the eager guards. The bite of the cold hit everyone around Ahrden hard and forced them to adjust their movements to what their numbing muscles allowed.
Satisfied with the results, Ahrden switched his spell to a new one, and in seconds violent roots burst out of the ground and reached for everyone. The general and the more critical advisors sat on horses, but they too were quickly bound in place. Once they were all immobile, Ahrden snatched his sword from the ground and jumped to his first target.
No matter how experienced and how well-trained this inner circle was, Ahrden had created a situation so foreign to them that they didn't stand a chance. He moved between his targets with leaps enhanced by arcane and with teleportation, making his movement unnatural and unpredictable.
In minutes, the entire head of the army was dealt with, leaving the body without a mind to command it. Ahrden teleported up into the air again and looked at the vast army beneath him. The bloodshed at the front line was reignited, and his work there was as good as gone by now. No matter what he did, he could barely make a dent in the Velintenal army. Taking out the commanders would surely have its results, but for that, he needed to wait. Ahrden needed to remind himself that he wasn't here to beat the army, but rather to beat it apart enough that his nation's military could do the rest.
Seeing sudden movement in the back, Ahrden turned and saw a sea of arrows coming his way. It probably wasn't directed specifically at him, because if he weren't there, the arrows would still hit the Polenteus army, but now that he was in the way, he could address the problem. While keeping himself up in the air, Ahrden erected a giant shield that blocked the incoming arrows. The shield was conjured in haste, and it wasn't perfect, letting a few dozen arrows through, but the large majority were stopped. As the arrows started lifelessly falling onto the Velintenal army, Ahrden reached out with his power and seized as many as he could. Feeling a few new arrows coming in his direction as well, Ahrden let himself fall out of the sky while he accelerated the arrows that he could wrap arcane around.
Ahrden landed in the middle of the enemy army and was immediately surrounded. The erected arcane shield protected him from the physical weapons, but the soldiers didn't pause in battering at it. Ahrden hoped that his spell with the arrows worked, but his mind was already on what to do next. He started conjuring a dense arcane ball while he kept feeding the shield with as much power as he could. Although only steel assailed his dome, it was becoming hard to maintain it while strengthening the arcane ball. When Ahrden was satisfied, he teleported out of there.
The explosion was deafening, and since he moved to a nearby location, the brief shower that came after reached him and tested his stomach. Before the soldiers around Ahrden could regain their balance and recognize who stood among them, he called down multiple lightning bolts from the sky. Groups of soldiers collapsed around Ahrden; most would never get up again, but some were only dazed.
Ahrden changed locations and continued calling down the sky's wrath at different points. Slowly but surely, fear was growing and started seeping into the hearts of the undirected masses, but Ahrden could not rest now. His work was not done.
Teleporting up into the air again, Ahrden looked around. The front line was pushing further towards Belentedor, but the Velintenal lines were becoming less organized, with soldiers trying to prepare for not only what lay ahead but what might come from any other direction. Seeing this, Ahrden felt that he was most needed at the front line now.
When he materialized, he sent a powerful shockwave that sent all soldiers flying backwards. It didn't harm any, but rather created a moment of pause around him. Ahrden wanted to draw Duskedge, but it wasn't in the sheath. It wasn't entirely his fault—or rather, he could blame it on several other things. He was never taught how to properly tend a weapon; for a warrior, his weapon was his everything on the battlefield, but not for a mage. Ahrden was between the two classes, so misplacing the sword was a problem, but not a life-or-death situation. Either way, this was something he needed to pay more attention to next time.
When Ahrden called Duskedge to him, it responded eagerly. The many runes on it allowed him not only to handle it with ease but also to call it to him from a great distance. Even while it was far away, he was able to imbue it with arcane, enabling it to cut through whatever lay in its path.
The moment of calm was coming to an end around Ahrden, but the bone-chilling screams that lined the path of Duskedge drew the attention of the soldiers around him. As the final obstacle, the soldier who stood foremost had his chest pierced by the sword and collapsed forward into the mud. Ahrden caught the hilt of the sword and stood tall.
The Velintenal soldiers at the front and even further back kept looking behind them to see if another such thing was going to happen. No matter how much they trusted the ones behind them, this was a death they could only avoid with their own awareness. Rather than resuming the bloodshed, the moment of pause spread further down the two ends of the front line until the two armies separated completely, with everyone looking at Ahrden, who stood between them.
The carnage paused, if only for a moment, and all could look at the one who had caused everything that was not meant to happen in an ordinary battle. The Velintenal soldiers gasped and whispered upon seeing Ahrden. They knew all too well what a mage was capable of, being the only nation that had a fully versed mage among their ranks. The rumours that started spreading about Ahrden when he first went on a scouting mission with a few soldiers had gained credit even in the most sceptical eyes a long time ago. He wasn't sure how well known his assassination attempt was among the Velintenal soldiers. As far as Malitez was concerned, that mission was a success, and if he spread that news among his people, the source of the army's immense shock could even be traced back to the fact that Ahrden was alive and well.
The attacking army started realising that they weren't going to get a uniform order, for whatever reason. Now that they also knew what they were up against, the advantage they still had with their numbers started becoming less important.
The defending army behind Ahrden reacted to him differently. All recognized him immediately, but despite the apparent results he had achieved in the battle, they seemed not to credit him for any of it. Ahrden could only work with whispers that he could hear through his heightened senses, and based on those, if anything, the soldiers lost their enthusiasm after their mysterious helper was revealed.
It baffled Ahrden how blind his own nation was to see the potential he represented, to see how much value he alone could bring to a battle, to see that this battle would probably be long over without him. Ahrden wanted to turn around and jump at his own soldiers, but he restrained himself. He redirected his emotion against the Velintenal army. He enhanced his voice and spoke.
'These pages in the book of time will be written with your blood and by my hand. You know this because you have seen your bastard king do it before. This battle is no longer about steel but arcane. You know this because many of you fought in such battles with odds like this—but against you. You know how it ends. For anyone new in the Velintenal ranks, I dare you to come and find it out.'
Ahrden felt the compressed emotions of the soldiers in front of him. This moment of peace could not last, and even the slightest push would collapse the façade. Ahrden felt the push coming: the slightest clink of weapons, the smallest shout from any soldier, a single arrow. He had done his best to create the conditions that would make the enemy believe this was a fight they could not win. Now all he could do was wait for them to believe it.
'Polenteus, spread out, I've got the ones in front of me!' Ahrden shouted, not daring to look back.
The battle resumed as if it had never even stopped. Ahrden felt the friendly soldiers behind him clear out, which was good, because he couldn't allocate any more effort to make them do what he asked.
Judging by the charging soldiers, a large portion of them made it their sole purpose to kill him personally, so not only the ones in front of him but many further down the sides charged at him with crazed determination.
Ahrden fed Duskedge with arcane and cast his own spell. The fog spread beyond the space left by his own soldiers, but he figured it wouldn't tip the scale in any direction since it was an equal disadvantage for both sides. As for himself, he was more than ready to meet the oncoming masses.
Within the mist, he had no equal, no matter how experienced and how powerful his opponents were. Ahrden thought and moved faster; he could muster more force into his attacks, and he had a superior weapon, if not armour. New soldiers replaced the dead so fast that Ahrden could not press into the enemy ranks. This meant that the ground became increasingly littered with bodies, which made things that much more challenging.
Ahrden was focused; he was determined, but the situation could not be contained forever. Soldiers started moving between him and his own ranks, which allowed them to get behind him and lock him in a circle. He could always teleport out of there, but that would make the fog go away, and the Velintenal soldiers left there could attack his own army on the sides.
Attacks started slipping through Ahrden's defence, and cuts started appearing on his body. The first few were small and barely bled, but with their numbers increasing came the more significant wounds. His own blood started soaking his inner clothes, and fatigue began mixing with the light-headedness caused by blood loss. He did not know how the two front lines were doing on either side of him, but he could not keep this up for much longer.
Defeating the entire army was still out of his—or the Polenteus army's—reach, while their own demise remained the most likely possibility. Ahrden needed the enemy soldiers to be so frightened of his power that they would retreat, but he couldn't do that while all he used his arcane for was to be a more efficient warrior. Without question, Ahrden was the most powerful being on that battlefield, but none saw him as powerful enough to change the course of the battle. That was something only a mage could do, and as a mage, he still had much to improve. The Velintenal nation imagined a mage to be like their king—someone they would all be afraid of—but to them, Ahrden was just a warrior with superior skills. This was the reason why they didn't retreat. Ahrden could kill every single one of them, but not all of them—not at the same time. He could only do significant damage if he used his arcane to be like a warrior, and that was something the enemy soldiers could handle.
Thinking this through tremendously infuriated Ahrden, and he was ashamed by what he deduced. His wrath was sent to greater heights by a lost polearm which found its way into his side. Instinctively, Ahrden sent everyone around him flying away.
This was the first time Ahrden was able to cast such a powerful spell instinctively and in an instant. The wound, however, was something he could not ignore for long. He crouched low, yanked the polearm out of his side, and leapt into the air.
As he ascended, the fog disappeared when he left it, while his empowered jump propelled him even further into the air. He wanted everyone to see him; hence he jumped rather than teleporting. When he reached the peak of his jump, he cast a spell that kept him there and roared at the still vast army below him.
'You need something you all know to fathom what I am capable of. I will give you something you have all seen before, something you can comprehend. I give you Inferno.'
Fire shot forth from his palms and united, forming a single column which dived down into the middle of the Velintenal army. Many soldiers died immediately, while the fire had already begun spreading. This was indeed something they had seen before, and just by looking around at the lifeless landscape, they understood that this was beyond them to stand against. Without a general to command them, the entire Velintenal army retreated as one.
As Ahrden fell, he teleported and felt the old counter in Felinda's shop break under his back.
--
When Ahrden awoke, his whole body was aching, both inside and out. He was in terrible pain, and simply breathing caused him suffering. He recognized that he was in the guest room of Felinda's shop, in the small bed she always put him in when he was too beat up to be moved any further. The door was closed and the window shaded, just the way he liked it. He tried to sit up but failed and fell back with a whimper. Shortly after, Felinda walked in with a bright smile on her face.
'You are awake; how great. How are you feeling?'
'As if you haven't done a thing with me,' Ahrden mustered the words out of his mouth.
'Well, yes. I had a rather hard job with you this time. You see, the wound you had in your side was so deep that you would have died had you come to me any later, and had you not been so saturated with arcane.'
'You still have a lot of stuff for pain, don't you?' asked Ahrden, tears rolling down his eyes.
'Oh yes. I'm sorry, my dear. You have been sleeping so far, but I'll bring it in right away.'
Felinda returned shortly with a murky glass of water. She helped Ahrden sit up high enough to drink the medicine, then helped him back onto the bed.
'Thank you.'
'Don't mention it. But rather, tell me: others are saying that you summoned an Inferno and scared away the Velintenal army with it. No matter how much I protested that this could not have been the case, they didn't listen; everyone saw it with their own eyes.'
Ahrden chuckled, which ended up being so painful he winced. He had already begun to feel the smooth sensation of the painkiller spread around his body. This enabled him to talk.
'Well, yes. I made them believe that I summoned it, but all I did was cast a few fire spells. Casting Inferno requires more arcane than what I used in that whole battle, and once cast the spell can self-sustain. What I did was merely create a fire that died the moment I stopped channelling power into it.'
'Bold move.'
'Saved the nation… Or did they come back?' Ahrden asked, suddenly becoming worried that they did.
'No, they didn't,' smiled Felinda. 'You saved us all, Ahrden. Again.'
'This time, I'll ask for my reward in cash and give it all to you.'
Felinda could not help but laugh.
'All the reward I need is to be able to help you patch your sorry rear up every time you care to drop in. How is your new home anyway?'
'It's truly magical: the view, the peace, the undisturbed nature. I should show you sometime,' Ahrden lied, not having the heart to tell her how short-lived his new home was.
'Yes, I'd like that. But now rest up; your body still has a lot of healing to do. If you can give it some arcane, that should help. But hurry, the medicine I gave you will make you fall asleep so your body can heal faster.'
As if she knew exactly how much time it would take for the medicine to exert its effect, Ahrden started losing his grip on reality. In the last second, he gathered some arcane energy within himself, but he was already asleep when it could exert its effects on his body.