Chapter 49

Calen

Fear shakes my heart as we follow the sea channel south of Daenia to Ecya. Airdan must have docked right at the border of the Water Fae territory, on the strip of land connecting him to the rest of our territories.

An inferno burns to our left as we ride tirelessly towards the coast, a permanent reminder of the hell where Vesta and Az are headed.

I bring the army to a halt behind me with the first light of day. I gaze upon the mass of soldiers in front of us. Airdan’s ships tower in the distance, their masts flying his emerald flag, and Daenia’s islands jut from the water on our left.

I bring my horse around as soldiers tighten their hold on their reigns and weapons, their captains at the front of the line.

“Wyn. Varan. Take the northern side.”

Riding up our column, I give orders.

“Lana and Elion, circle to the south.”

Silence settles as hundreds of soldiers await my next words, angst twisting in their guts like it twists in mine.

“Brothers and sisters,” I roar. “I call on you to defend Lóna with your lives and fulfill the oaths you have taken.”

Shouts echo my words, diffusing the fear and tension in our bones, as I raise my sword to the sky and swing it towards the battlefield.

Averion’s cavalry launches forward as I lead the infantry. Our squadrons spread across the blood-soaked plains, crashing against enemy spears as we join forces with the Sun Fae in heart of the battle. Tharrion’s soldiers open a passage as fresh troops reinforce their defense.

My blade swings at the emerald helmets I ride by, splintering shields and cracking skulls, my fighters in tow.

I jump off my mount in the heart of the battle, my eyes glazing over the corpses lying on the muddied grass. Hammering a blow, my sword locks with one of Airdan’s men. With a roar, I kick his leg at full force. Bones crack as his knee snaps, and he goes down with a scream. Plunging my blade into his chest, the cry dies on his lips.

Metal tearing through flesh reaches my ears as Death sinks its claws into my senses and the General takes over. Locking down my emotions, I turn to my next target and lunge.

My opponent slain, I pause to reassess the terrain. My eyes dart to a body crushed under soldiers’ boots. His face is torn in a silent scream, his lifeless eyes mirroring the sky, and his chest is caved in, the yellow and blue of his armor drowning in crimson.

My jaw slackens before my head snaps towards hints of Brimora’s colors in the sea of bodies. Queen Aanor sent some of her soldiers, and most of them lie dead at my feet.

It would take three of the strongest human fighters to take down a single Fae, and Airdan’s best fighters came here.

“Calen,” a strong voice thunders over the chaos, and I search for its bearer.

A soldier extracts himself from the mass of bodies, his helmet reflecting the sunlight. He sports a mean cut to the chest.

“Tharrion.”

We clasp hands briefly.

“Queen Aanor?” I ask, panting.

“She sent five hundred soldiers. This is what’s left of them.” He looks around, his eyes falling on the destroyed corpses at our feet.

I nod sharply as I swallow the lump in my throat.

“I bring a thousand fighters with me.”

“We could use the help,” Tharrion says, pointing to the east. “Their ships are still docked a mile away. We’re trying to push them back to the shore.”

A grin crosses my face. “Let’s show them what Sun Fae are made of.”

His beard parts to reveal a devilish smile before he turns.

“Push them back. To the sea!” Tharrion’s voice booms in the air as he jumps back into the fight. I follow, my training and instinct taking over.

Blood splashes as I dig my blade into a body and parry another attack. I feint to the left before raising my sword and dealing a deadly blow to the Fae’s chest.

Elbowing another attacker, I spin and slay the burly Fae standing before me.

I lock away any thought of Vesta as my blade sinks into flesh. She’s somewhere in Daenia’s labyrinth of streets and canals, but the thought only floods my veins with panic.

Grunts sound all around me as I force myself to breath in and out with each strike to keep my muscles from tiring too quickly.

Sweat drips down my forehead profusely and my braids are coming undone from the bun at the back of my head, swinging into my vision. Salt stings my eyes as the drops roll down my temples, and I blink furiously as I hammer down my sword.

The rest of the world disappears as I’m left to face a horde of enemies fighting with all they’ve got, my men around me.

Ferocity guides each of my blows as I calculate each parry and attack, but we’re not progressing fast enough. Urgency twists in my gut as Daenia burns in the distance.

A reprieve comes around mid-day as cries tear from the enemies’ throats.

Smoke billows on the horizon, and tension ripples through our ranks.

“Airdan’s fleet. It’s destroyed.”

Shouts rise all around me and my head snaps to the shore.

“Look.”

“Airdan’s fleet.”

I push aside the men in front of me to get a clearer view and stop dead in my tracks.

Mats are crashing down on decks as boats sink into the bay before another fleet of frigates, a fleet flying Brimora’s colors.

A cry of victory flares in my throat as I raise my sabre high, knowing the tide is about to turn.

We push through the emerald army with renewed fervor as their spirits dampen with the loss of their ships. Cornered between a mass of raging Fae and the sea, their confusion plays to our advantage.

I slay another invader before Tharrion pulls me back.

His chest wound still oozes blood, and his face is pale.

“We’ll secure our shores and finish these bastards off.”

“Tharrion, you’re in no shape to fight. We’ll stay,” I counter.

“No.” He shakes his head, panting. “Daenia needs you.”

Turning, I spot two of his fighters. “You two. Keep your Lord safe. Do not leave his side, you hear me?”

They give me a quick nod before one of them answers.

“Yes, General.”

Tharrion huffs, and I lock eyes with him.

“Stay alive. We’ll need you when this is over.”

“Go, Cal. We’ve got this.”

With a nod, I leave Tharrion and call my fighters back.

“To me,” I shout at the top of my lungs.

As more soldiers rally around me, I spot several of our captains.

“Varan. Lana. Pull back.”

With wide gestures of my arm, I retreat until a Fae stumbles forward, the reigns of my horse in hand.

“Thank you, soldier.”

With a sharp nod, I mount, gaining a better vantage point.

My eyes dart to one of my captains, knee deep in bodies, his arms soaked in blood and a rictus on his torn face.

“Wyn,” I call out.

His head snaps up, revealing crazed eyes. Varan reaches his twin and yanks him back to let Tharrion’s men take his place.

Moments later, the cavalry is back on horses and riding out of the battlefield. Soldiers too incapacitated to ride are left behind. Others share a horse, theirs lost to the butchery.

My heart sinks as I glance back at my homeland and the dead bodies scattered across the Sun Fae plains.

Each stride of my horse radiates down to my bones, and determination settles in my heart as Daenia’s islands appear in the distance.