The Surface War

Chapter 4

Standing on the same cliff where they had first sighted Harhilme Noah looked across to the altogether different scene. The invaders had not relented until the early hours of the morning when darkness no longer aided them. The sun had risen hesitantly and now framed the broken city walls like stretches of broken teeth. The once golden fields leading to the city were now reduced to layers of ash or trampled into mud as camps to the south were built on their graves. Several fires still burned in the city but most had been extinguished and the city seemed to exhale smoke as a sigh of relief.

There was still no sign of Kyle or Pail after their escape from the city. Amara was more than ready to pronounce them dead and for once Noah was inclined to agree. During its height the siege had become a swirling mix of blood and fire where everything faded to hues of grey except the sprays of crimson and roaring flames. Gates had been either barred or too heavily contested to risk breaking through, in the end they had resorted to Noah cutting an escape through the stone walls.

'We're moving,' Pono's gentle voice almost didn't register compared to the ruined city below.

Looking to Pono he felt another stab of guilt, the young Demifera had somehow come to lean on him since reaching the surface and even now he mirrored Noah's mood. His green eyes normally so big with curiosity and excitement now were mere pin pricks that analysed every bush, every blade of grass with suspicion. It seems death has tainted us all.

'Then we better get moving before Amara leaves us behind.' Noah tried a smile but either it wasn't a convincing one or Pono thought he was serious as he simply nodded and pulled the hood up on his robes and set off into the surrounding brush.

Amara had decided that they were to travel to this kingdom's capital, a city called Tynweld to the north. Before the siege they had managed to procure several maps and rumours aplenty for the journey although rations were another issue. Though according to the thin maps dozens of small villages and towns dotted the northern road. Shouldering a thin wooden case containing the rolled up maps Noah joined the others as they began north.

Thoughts of Narak with its clear lakes glistening against the crystal pools filled his mind as they traveled, a desire to return to his clan was almost overwhelming. To swim in the cool waters and watch the star flies dance on the cave ceiling, to run his hands along the sleek skin of the dolphins. It was a feeling of loneliness made sharper with the absence of Pail and Kyle. The only thing keeping his feet moving on the hard packed earth were the words of the Patriarch.

'The Tomes must be found. Earth, Air, Fire and Water must rise again.'

Noah wasn't sure how an old book would accomplish anything but it was a mission given to him with the utmost secrecy and importance. Even more important than their strike against the surface, though that plan seemed to have failed at the first hurdle with two members fallen. One of the main reasons he had not gone his own way after the bloody business of Harhilme was that Tynweld was a name remembered among his people.

Under the Elementals it was rumoured to be have been one of the great cities of the world, a bastion carved into the very mountains. The Earth Clan was said to have founded the city and had launched its final defense from its walls in The Purge. If the Tome of Earth was to be found anywhere it was Tynweld.

Resolving to accomplish at least one of his missions Noah set about the road with a new determination that not even the snowy roads ahead could stop.

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Pail had been idly perusing the market before the attack began, her belt pouches were stuffed to the brim with all sorts of ingredients she never thought would be in her hands. Who would have thought lemon grass could be found in a market! The Masters kept such treasures locked away in Alchamia and here it was casually on display on some haggard woman's stall. Just thinking what her pouches now contained sent her mind into a flurry of possibilities and techniques. She had remembered every last potion, the smallest powder and most potent elixir that could prove useful among the Old Recipes.

Continuing along the street still deciding which combination to try first the faint smell of smoke reached her senses. Focusing back to the street she noticed most people had retreated indoors or were scampering down the street. Either this was some strange human custom or Pail definitely thought she was missing something. Shrugging it off she pulled out one of her vials and checked the colour of the hearts-bane to make sure its red was still deep when the cobbles under her feet shook with such ferocity that she fell to her knees just managing to hold onto the vial. With a sigh of relief she put it back with its siblings and swung her mass of hair back over her shoulder.

The smell of smoke had grown stronger and black pillars were beginning to rise up from the the next street over. Soon screams began to echo along the empty street as if some invisible slaughter were happening all around her. Realising something was definitely wrong Pail began to head back to the inn and the others.

As she ran down the street homes seemed to burst into flames around her with no warning, windows shattered and foundations groaned. The windows above filled with men and woman perching on the edge as their homes burnt from the ground up. Leaving their screams and the dying moans of streets buildings Pail ran as fast as she could her feet crushing glass and discarded food, tears from the smoke streaming down her soot covered face.

Just one more corner and the inn would be in sight, with a small smile and sigh of relief she halted to catch her breath leaning on her knees not caring that her smoke streaked hair fell into her gasping mouth. The clatter of steel brought her head back up to see ten men in shining steel armour and helmets each one carrying a halberd or sword. She was fairly confident that they were this towns protectors of sorts though they mostly seemed to catch thieves and break up tavern brawls.

'There's one of 'em! Get the spy!' one of them men roared in a husky voice, his face looked small and pinched through the metal visor and he certainly looked like he meant to have his quarry.

Looking behind her Pail tried to spot this supposed spy but all that remained behind her was burning rubble piled either side of the ash covered street. Turning back to the guards to inquire what spy they were talking about she stopped, her mouth half open. The same man had his mailed fist wrapped tight around her wrist and his face looked even harder up close, a broken nose and a jagged scar running across one cheek made his dead grey eyes seem almost soft.

'You're coming with me.'