Four hours of constant rain had turned every bit of grass and dirt into mud. Supernatural thunder roared, shaking the ground underfoot. As the Brotherhood of the Way fought across the fields surrounding the great walled city of Serpenthelm, numbers on both sides began to dwindle. Pockets of the Brotherhood dotted the fields. The soldiers of the city pushed in around them, slowly overwhelming each group.
Thalador, a young man hardly passed childhood, directed bursts of wind, and called lightning from the dark skies atop the small hill he stood on. His long black hair blew back with each burst. Beside him fought his dear mother Elandra. Her hair liquid gold; eyes the depth of the ocean. Leagues of men fell around them, leaving a growing mound of bodies, ripped apart by their might. Still more came, like ants swarming a fallen bird.
Thalador wiped sweat from his brow. His power was starting to dwindle. If things kept going the way they were, it wouldn't matter how many men they crushed, they would be over run. A glance at his mother's stern face told him she felt it too. Death came closer with every inch their attackers gained.
He wanted to save her. He would give anything in the world to take her up in his arms and flee. He cared for her more than the ideals they fought to protect. He cared more for her than all those oaths they had taken; than the breaking earth and sky around him. It could all be swallowed up in flame if it meant she would live. But with all the power he held, he could not stop them all.
A man with a spear, covered from head to toe in steel armor, lunged at him. A labored wave of a hand threw the attacker into the air screaming. The other soldiers were no more concerned with it than they were with all the others who fell. Some yelled a family name or a war cry before loyally pressing on toward certain death. They knew as well as he did that eventually they would break through. It was only a matter of time.
The circle around them closed a bit more when four men pushed at once on his mother's side. She stepped back to avoid the swing of a sword and ended all four of them with lightning called from the sky. She was close enough now for Thalador to hear her labored breath, shaking with adrenaline and exhaustion. His attention was brought back to front when a sword slipped through and sliced through his side. His shirt, now cut half free, got heavier by the second, blood soaking through the cloth.
His mother's scream sent his head into a swirl. Exhaustion and blood loss took what little balance he had left. He stumbled. Steel sliced through his shoulder as he dropped to one knee. Another cut opened across his back. A black haze began to close in around his vision. Something large slammed into the man in front of him. Then another into two men to his left. Dazed and confused, he looked back to his mother.
A man of stone punched into a soldier's face, all but caving it in. He gurgled before falling in a heap. Other men of stone stomped and tackled their foes, swords and spears glancing off rocky skin. Soldiers screamed in pain and frustration as they were forced to break formation. One minute, Thalador and his mother were surrounded by men bent on their destruction. A minute more and they were surrounded by only men of stone, standing as a sentient wall between them and their attackers. As the men fled, the men of stone followed, leaving the two mages alone, broken in the mud.
Thalador crawled towards his mother who laid motionless on the ground, bleeding and dirty. Grime marred her once beautiful dress, a dark blue like her endless eyes. Her hair was brown with filth, and her skin stark with blood. He cradled her head in his hands. Tears rolled down his cheeks, burning his yes and cutting trenches through the dirt and blood. The world around him faded and muffled.
"Mother. Mother, please wake up," he pleaded. His voice cracked and his arms trembled as he held her. "Please." Slowly she opened her eyes. Despite the pain he knew she felt, she smiled at him.
"I'm so glad you got my eyes, and not your fathers," she said before erupting in a fit of coughs. "Help me up son., this fight is no longer ours to win. We have served our purpose. It is time for us to leave." Leaning on her as much as she leaned on him, they stood. Behind them the battle raged on as the stonemen fought back the tidal wave of death. Another group of them marched passed, faces as cold as the stone they were made of. Not a glance was spared as they went by, heading steadily towards the death in the distance.
Suddenly, a great explosion shook the earth from behind them. Like thunder following lightning, a concussive blast rippled out like a stone tossed in a still pond. The blast threw them into the air, landing feet away from where they had been. Ears ringing and head spinning, Thalador looked back with his mother toward the city. Men on both sides struggled to their feet, fighting for their lives.
In the distance, the company of stonemen that saved them were frozen where they stood. Perfect human sculptures sank into the mud. Soldiers began to regain their composure, immediately hacking into them. With a shudder, the stonemen came back to life and began fighting back. As the last man of the company fell, the stone soldiers turned back towards Thalador and his mother. Fear gripped him. With renewed haste, he pulled his mother up and began hurrying away from them.
"Something isn't right Thalador. They should not be turning back. They are designed to march forward."
"The Way King must have pulled out some trick of his, the terrible bastard. We can outrun them, those kinds are not fast." She nodded in agreement, picking up her dress as they quickened their pace. After a few steps, his mother stumbled, pulling them both to the ground.
"My head is spinning Thal. You have to go on, I'm slowing you down..." A cough stopped her mid-sentence. "You mustn't die for an old woman like me. Go my son, please."
"Stand up. Stand up now, we have to go," Thalador responded in frustration. He could hear their feet splashing in the mud. They shouldn't be that close. They aren't meant to move than fast. Turning back towards them, he threw up a hand, sending his energy into the air around him. A stream of wind followed it towards the group. Hours ago, it would have sent them flying back. Now in his weakened state it glanced off them without causing them so much as a stumble.
With a hand to the sky, he called down lightning. White heat flashed, crumbling one of the men. Nine remained. Another bolt streaked down, then another. The magic inside him withered. His mother joined his crusade. Two more fell. Seven stepping ever closer. She crushed one into the ground under a shimmering haze of thickened air. Six stonemen moved to surround them. One pulled on his mother's leg, ripping her from Thalador's grip. His soul cried out, matched only by his hoarse voice.
She did not fight. She did not call down lightening or blow them away with a blast of wind. She locked eyes with him. That deep blue ocean was all he saw. It enveloped him as it had when he was young. She held his gaze with a tired smile, and said to quietly to hear, "I love you, goodbye."
A stone fist crushed her head.
The bottomless cerulean ocean was replaced by crimson fury. Crimson fury became obsidian hate. The man threw out his arms and sent every bit of energy he had left in a blast around him. The earth under him indented the ground. The men of stone blew to pieces and thudded into the mud. For a second, the rain stopped. Silence prevailed.
He let his mind drift and fell into the grime as the rain began to fall again. The night sky above him was covered with the thunderstorms he and his brothers and sisters had called forth. The stars and moon lay hidden somewhere above them. He found himself mourning that he would never again see the tiny specks of light that brought him so much wonder as a child. The ringing in his ears gave way to an intense buzzing, like wasps swarming his mind. As the rain pattered against his face, he let go, allowing himself to retreat into the great unknown.
