The Battle of Ebulon (17 page)

Nova speaks. “I'm sorry,
my friends. I mean you no harm.”

“Then let us go!” screams
one of the guards doing his best to move without
success.

Ignoring the man's plea,
Nova continues. “A call was sent to me. I'm here to answer
it.”

One of the guards relaxes,
which instantly releases him from the magic. He kneels before her,
bending his head to the ground. “Our apologies. You must be one of
the heroes our King has beckoned.”

“Hero? I'm no such thing.
I'm Nova, VioletLight of the PureLight Lineage, counselor and sage
of the Sihu Tribe.” She looks over her shoulder, again seeing the
ominous army still far off in the distance and marching toward
them. “Who are the negative Beings approaching?”

Finally realizing that
Nova is of no harm to him, the other guard is released by Nova's
energy grip. He kneels as well, saying, “They are not men. They are
filth, excrement of the vilest creatures ever created. Those are
Orcs you see coming. They invade us to end the reign of man. We're
the last resistance, the last of our kind.”

Nova nods. “I see.” She
searches the landscape below, now seeing even more armies
approaching from several other directions, and knows that if they
pick up speed they could arrive by sundown.

One guard looks at the
other. “Notify King Yadi that Nova has arrived.”

The guard runs off, his
armor clanging loudly as he makes his way down a stone staircase.
At first glance, it's difficult for Nova to determine whether or
not the guards are wearing armor. It’s covered with the fur of some
unfortunate animals and Nova considers that given the
circumstances, if she weren’t a VioletLight she could be a piece of
fur keeping another soldier warm. It is a disturbing thought, but
she also remembers a time when control of her own body temperature
wasn't as easy as it is now.

Setting that aside, Nova
looks around and sees walkways on the top every wall, with only a
few soldiers stationed on each one. These soldiers are being used
as lookouts, but Nova knows that when the Orcs arrive the walls
will be crowded with defenders. They have to be if Ebulon expects
to survive. She observes a city well fortified, but it has many
entry points. She is standing near one of them and it seems to be a
side entrance to the city. Its gate is large, dark and metallic and
currently open. Barbicans stand outside of the gate, housing
several soldiers in each tower. They have slits big enough for a
crossbow to shoot through, but not much else.

Scanning the courtyard,
Nova sees waiting soldiers everywhere being coated by falling snow
and taking orders from several commanders. They’re waiting for a
battle they don't want, and hoping they won’t catch an arrow in
their chest to end up clinging to their final breath of
life.

If these are the last
representatives of their kind, like the guard had said, these are
desperate people. They'll have to fight not only to save
themselves, but to save their race, making sure to take ten lives
to each of their one. The Orcs might find these humans not so
easily defeated.

Nonetheless, she can feel
fear penetrating the entire city, readying it for the explosion of
battle. Here, nothing is safe, not even the King deep in his hall
or tucked away in a turret or hiding under the trap doors of his
oubliette dungeon. Even the mountains that stand bleak and
cumbersome aren't safe.

“They bring Mangonels and
Belfries!” shouts the guard.

Pulling Nova out of her
thoughts, she sees the guard’s face now stricken with horrific
fear. She takes a step toward him to look in the direction he’s
pointing.

Indeed, large wooden siege
towers on wheels are being pushed and pulled by the Orcs. Slinging
machines follow behind, pulled by thick ropes harnessed to large
animals that Nova has never seen before. They have the area mass of
a rhinoceros, huge horns and bull like faces with sharp fangs
jutting out of their mouths. They’re covered with long, shaggy hair
and there looks to be about a hundred of them moving through the
main army of Orcs.

Nova points with her tail.
“What are those terrible looking things pulling the
Mangonels?”

The guard squints his eyes
to see what she is talking about and finally grasps for something
at his side, but then sighs in annoyance. He flicks his head toward
the staircase. “Palin has my telescope.” Nova understood that Palin
must be the guard sent to notify the King. The guard she was
conversing with ambles to the edge of the walkway and whistles to a
large group of soldiers in the courtyard below. “I need a telescope
and I need one now.” He lowers his arm readying for a catch. A
soldier flicks one up to him, which he catches
effortlessly.

Impressed, Nova gives a
smile, though it's hidden from the soldier. A simple show of
accurate hand-eye coordination and the ease at which the exchange
took place gives her more confidence in this crew that works well
together, and who are probably very advanced in their form of
fighting.

The guard places the
telescope to his eye and extends the tube. He gasps in terror,
taking the telescope away from his face as the seeing device slips
from his grip, hitting the ground. He slowly shakes his head,
looking as if all hope was gone. “Those are Fangols. They're
trained to destroy humans, and are very successful in doing so. A
quick arrow at the hump behind their head kills them instantly, but
it's a small hump. Otherwise, it takes several of us to get in
close enough to hack away at it, over and over again, in order to
kill it. Most don't survive a Fangol attack. They’re quick,
aggressive and savage until the very last drop of blood has been
spilled.”

As the guard alerts the
others down the stairwell of this latest development, Nova observes
the Fangols more closely, noticing that they must be trained only
by the group of Orcs heading toward the wall they stood upon,
because she doesn't see any Fangols with the other Orc troops
heading toward a different section of the castle.

Nova stood confidently,
staring into the guard's eyes. “Tell the king to bring me a hundred
of his sharpest shooters. If we want a quick strike and a strong
defense, we'll have to take the Fangols out as quickly as
possible.”

Outright killing is
against Nova's nature, but when defending your own life from
inevitable death, along with the extermination of a race you're
helping to defend, matters must be put into perspective. And unless
the Orcs experience a sudden change in consciousness, killing seems
unavoidable.

The guard bows his head,
and then races down the stairs.

“Where's my brother
running off to?” Palin was at the base of the staircase asking the
soldiers standing around. Those who heard him shrugged, and then
went on with their business quietly but nervously, and murmuring
amongst themselves.

As Palin ran up the
stairs, snow bounced off his coat of fur and Nova, having noted the
kinship, replies, “Your brother is gathering your sharpest
shooters.”

“Good,” responds Palin,
peering around the walkway. His lips form a slight grin as he says,
“I'll be one of them. Arrows are my specialty.” Then he turns to
look out across the expansive plane extending to the base of the
mountains. “Keep in mind that the Orcs are relentless, much like a
dragon with its gold.”

Dragon?
thinks Nova.

“Are there dragons
nearby?” asks Nova, forming a new plan.

Palin turns around and
points to a large mountain behind the city. “There used to be one
on the other side of the peak there, but she was killed years ago.”
Palin shrugs his shoulders and frowns, “Why do you want to know
about dragons?”

“A dragon can give us an
advantage.”

Palin laughs. “I don't
think a dragon would help humans. It's against both our natures.”
He tilts his head as if he was about to teach this snow leopard
something about life. “We kill them, they kill us. It's rather
simple.”

Nova thinks deeply,
staring into the distance, looking as if she doesn't hear Palin
until she says, “If I can get a dragon to come to our side, what
reward could we offer it?”

Palin shakes
his head. “The only reward he'd receive would be
you
as food the moment
you entered his cavern. They don't take too kindly to trespassers,
especially if it thinks you're after his gold.”

This puzzles Nova. “Gold
is only good to heighten your spiritual awareness, not for material
gain. How much gold would this dragon need?”

“Whatever it can get its
greedy claws on.”

Nova raises her brows
while concentrating. “If I could offer a dragon some of your king's
gold, would the king generously give it?”

“I don't know,” replies
Palin, gazing at the oncoming armies and holding his crossbow in
one hand as he tightly gripps the handle of the sword holstered to
his side with his other hand.

“It's worth an effort,”
says a voice behind them.

Turning around, Nova sees
a man standing at the top of the staircase; bow in hand, with a
quiver full of arrows tied to his back. His eyes, though, are soft,
much different than the eyes of the other humans she's met so far.
His ears, too, are different. They are pointed at the top. He wears
a purple tunic that hangs snugly to his body. His pants are black
and he wears no shoes, unlike a collection of new soldiers standing
at the bottom of the staircase behind him, all holding the same
type of bow. At closer inspection, only half of them has shoes and
the other half has pointy ears.

The charismatic man in
purple gets down on bended knee, bowing his head to touch Nova's
paws. She rubs her cheek against the side of his face, purring. He
stands up and gestures to the troop behind him. “These are your
sharp shooters. I've trained them well.” Palin's brother stood at
the bottom of the stairs. He looks pleased with what he has
fetched.

Nova stares into the blue
eyes of the purple robed man, “You do not come from this race, do
you?”

“I'm of the Elf Nation.
I'm Aldoren, and prince of my people.” Pointing to the group
standing at the base of the stairs, he continues, “Some of them are
my people, some of them are of the human race. We Elves have
traveled a long distance to help our allies, much like you
have.”

Marksmen and women walk up
the stairs, lining the parapet and ready for battle. Peering out
across the land, Nova can see that the long line of torches draw
closer and closer. If she can convince a dragon to help, then all
won't be lost, but she will have to leave immediately.

Aldoren points over Nova's
shoulder, “The name of the dragon you seek is Attor. To get to him
to help will be difficult. The way I point is directly through the
line of attackers coming to Ebulon. If the Orcs haven't slain him,
then he’ll be in the red castle just beyond the western hills. I'm
confident you'll see it once you get past the Orcs. You can't miss
it. It’s displayed for all the world to see.”

Nova rests on her hind
legs, her tail over her fore-paws. “I understand. I’ll be back
before sun down.” And with that, she spins around and jumps over
the wall, landing softly on the rocky ground below.

* * *

The sun is nearly at its
peak, creating a pale glow through gray clouds. Nova belly crawls
forward in thick brush as she watches the Orcs slowly approaching
her position. She weighs two options—continue to hide in the snow
and brush while inching her way to the red castle, or use her
incredible speed to run past the massive army. Both choices are
difficult, and each has the potential to be just as deadly as the
other.

Her final decision is
forced by a loud grunt coming from a nearby Orc. She whispers
“Lemla Semta”, a phrase created by the VioletLights that was woven
into the energetic fabric of the manifesting universe, causing one
to shape shift into one’s surroundings. This camouflages her very
well in the snow and underbrush where she hides, and just in
time.

She feels a tepid, fowl
breath on her shoulder as the Orc climbs over her clump of
underbrush, grazing her back with its hands and feet as it passes.
Then it turns around with a loud grunt, as if something was
slightly off about what he has just touched.

His eyes are
yellow and vacant. This Orc is much smaller and skinnier than the
leader she’d seen this morning.
He must be
a scout,
thinks Nova. He has no armor, only
a brown skirt covering his lower extremities. Nova can tell that
this creature is quick, and from what she has just experienced he
has mastered the art of tracking in almost complete silence. She
didn't know he was on her until a second before he appeared, and
only because of the grunt—probably a mistake rarely made by the
Orc.

Coming closer, he sniffs
the camouflaged snow leopard, and then tilts his head. He opens his
mouth, showing yellow stained fangs.

What was The
Great Spirit thinking when creating a creature like this?
Nova remains as still as she can. The Orc extends
its index finger, exposing a sharp fingernail, slowly moving it
closer to Nova's flank, and then forcefully gives her fur pelt a
poke. She feels a sharp pain, like a big thorn jabbing her skin,
but not hard enough to penetrate.