The Child of Cataclysm

Chapter 5

I am quite certain I botched the emotions in this chapter.  But I'll let you people be the judge of that.

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Martier rushed down the final stretch of hallway before bursting into the throne room to be met by chaos. Advisors were crowding around the emperor shouting to get their voice heard. An assortment of men and women of various duties and roles were hurrying about the room, ducking and weaving around each other. Martier caught the arm of a servant as he was rushing past.

"What's going on?" he shouted over the din. "We're under attack!" the servant shouted in reply. Before Martier could ask him who was attacking, he twisted his arm free and rushed away to finish his task. Martier stared after him, surprised, then turned to the exit. There wasn't much he could do in the throne room, aside from getting in the way. Better that he went outside.

There was just as much chaos outside as inside, only this time it was less confined. As he left the castle's doors, Martier looked around and spotted Skirin by the stables, gazing around in confusion and distress. "Skirin!" he shouted, running towards his friend. The dragon swung its head towards him and growled questioningly. "Apparently someone is coming to attack us," Martier explained as he slid to a stop on the icy cobblestone, "I'm not sure who yet."

Skirin snarled, clearly upset by the news. Martier patted his snout reassuringly as he searched the crowded courtyard.

He spotted Sepher speaking to a large group of soldiers and bounded towards him, Skirin lumbering behind him. "Sepher!" he called. The knight stiffened and turned to regard Martier as he came to a stop. "What is it?" he asked in a clipped tone. Skirin growled behind Martier but he ignored it. "Who's attacking us?"

"The Children of Cataclam," Sepher answered, turning away. Martier blinked in shock. The Children? Why are the Children attacking the Furghons?

Martier turned to look at Skirin. The dragon stared back, also shocked. Are they here for us?

Martier's brow creased as he frowned questioningly. Skirin nodded his silent question, his eyes resolute.

"How can we help?" Martier asked, turning back to Sepher. "By staying out of the way," he snapped over his shoulder. Skirin growled. Martier didn't like that answer either.

He grabbed Sepher's shoulder and whirled him around so the knight was facing him. "No," he stated firmly, "Skirin and I want to fight. The Children are more than likely here for us."

Sepher blinked, startled. "You'll get yourselves killed!" he exclaimed. "So? We've had to watch our backs for the past five years," Martier retorted. "Now, we've finally found a home. And we are going to fight for it."

Sepher was silent as Martier glared at him in a stand-off. "Very well," Sepher finally said, "Go to the armory and suit up. You'll be fighting with me and Mya. Skirin, you and your fire will provide support from above over the whole battlefield. But be careful: they might have ballistas."

Skirin snorted as Sepher turned back to giving orders. Martier looked up at the dragon. "Well, ready to go fight a war?"

***

It was worse than they thought. Much worse. The Children of Cataclam were coming in far greater numbers than their scouts had originally estimated. And they had help.

Scorched were marching alongside the Children. Martier had never seen Scorched before, but he heard the stories: creatures, once human, twisted and disfigured by ice, slaves that wielded weapons with superhuman strength.