Field of Battle

         The day had finally arrived. My conclave had done everything in our power to avoid war with the dragons, but alas, it was for naught. The Dragon Emperor Licthang, not content to live as we had in relative harmony for centuries, had spent the last year digging through ancient literature and come across a certain scroll; the scroll detailing how our ancestors, The Wizard’s Order, had won our land from the dragons under less than complimentary circumstances. The details are inconsequential, but suffice it to say, it was all Licthang needed to convince The Elder Counsel to go to war.

         “Ashencone, you are needed!” Ezmelda called down the stairs to my chambers. “Bring all of your tomes!” Her voice had quivered and broke before the command had cleared her lips.

         “Are they ready?” I asked, knowing that they must now be. They dragons had been gathering on their side of the valley all morning and moments ago everything had gone quiet. Quiet is seldom a good thing,

         “They are.” Her voice almost despairing, “You must speak to The Order, men are murmuring defeat already, and I must say, Licthang is quite impressive, he’s gone all out.”

         I cleared my mind and pushed up from my table, extinguishing a single candle as I did. I knew I mustn’t think. I could show no fear; no reserve in the face of our enemy lest all the rest of The Order see it, and then, all would be lost. I climbed the stairs two at a time, grabbing Ezmelda’s hand along the way and pulling her up behind me. The door was open and the sunlight was burning through the dank and dark air of my chambers. We entered the sunlight together and a small cheer went up among my fellows. It was disheartening at best. As my eyes adjusted to the sunlight I surveyed the troops around me, giving no attention to the threat that lay just across the valley.

         “Men!” casting a Rally spell so my voice would carry and penetrate even the thickest fear, “the time has arrived!” I raised my hands and the cheers this time were more gratifying. “Cast not our hope upon the flame of indecision! Cast not our pride upon the flame of fear! Let our ancient enemy know that the price for treason is dear, and one we will collect!” The roar of my fellows was deafening. I let their cries cascade down the mountain where it could climb the other side and fall on the ears of our enemies.

         “Today,” I continued, “we teach these wretches the penalty for unquiet, the price for greed!” With that the air was split with the roar of a new kind, and I finally cast my stare across the valley, and directly into the eyes of Licthang, the Dragon Emperor, resplendent in his battle armor, his bride, Charnell by his side. It was then I understood how fear had crept into the hearts of my men, and how badly they would need me to stand a chance at victory.

         Licthang unfurled wings that would surly span one hundred feet, and let out a cry that seemed laced with magic, though I knew that could not be. His front line, given the command, leapt into the air, unfolded wings and began their crossing to meet us in battle, roaring all the way.

         I cast all of my remaining fortification spells and sent my final command: “To the fight!” We let out our own battle cry and arms went to the air forming spells that had heretofore only been summoned in classes, and various simulations. Men and women took to the air lighter than feathers as my front line leapt to meet our enemy in the clouds. The masters of the craft, lined alongside me on the ridge, began to summon spells with the power to crack mountains, and rend valleys where plains had once been. I saw in the distance, my bride, Ezmelda, fall, her chest cleaved by Licthang himself, and never even glanced Charnell as she flew in. removing my head.



              “And that’s checkmate Ralphie,” grandpa laughed, toppling my king, “You’re getting better though, keep it up.”



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