Dragonworld: The Drive For Power

Part 9: Chaos Unleashed

The hilltop

Standing atop the hilltop, the reserves of the allied forces of Akelon and Alpen watched as the battle surged beneath them. The distant clang of swords and the cries of war barely reached them, muffled by the heavy sounds of the wind. Behind the soldiers, a ceremony was taking place.

"They brought their fire priestesses," Paulus, a seasoned soldier from Akelon, murmured. He turned, his eyes settling on the group of women gathered near the Alpenian troops. With their white robes billowing gently in the breeze, they gave off an otherworldly feel. "The Fire Sisters, they're called."

"Fire Sisters, eh? They can light my fire any day," quipped Galus, the young man beside him, flashing a wide grin across his face. 

Paulus chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Careful, lad. They say those priestesses can light fires with nothing but a thought. You'd burn, alright, but not in the way you're hoping."

Galus stiffened, a nervous laugh escaping him. "Alright, no more dirty thoughts, then. But why are they here?"

"They're here to bless the soldiers' swords before battle. It's said the flames of Martan, god of war, then burn brighter in their hands," said Paulus, his eyes watching the strange ceremony unfold. 

Before them, one of the priestesses, a woman in white, raised her hands to the sky as if summoning a force only she could see. "Sister Kasee," she called, her voice carrying a quiet authority, "it is time."

The one called Kasee stepped forward. Her face, though young, had an ancient grace about it. "Thank you, Sister Ophelia," she replied, her voice low, reverent. "It is to be done."

With that, she began to chant.

"Martan, lord of war, grant our soldiers strength, let their arms be swift and their resolve unyielding," she recited. "Funak, god of healing, protect their bodies, preserve their breath. Saxona, goddess of words, keep their spirits alive, their hearts steady in the storm of battle. And you, sacred fire, burn in their souls, that they may carry us to victory."

As her prayer rose to the heavens, three Alpen soldiers stepped forward, solemn. A flame was kindled in front of them. The priestesses dipped their torches in the fire, then touched the swords the men held, tracing burning lines along the blades.

"It is done," Sister Kasee whispered. "Go forth."

To the side, unnoticed until now, another group of women moved quietly in pale blue robes, their faces serene as they carried vessels of water. "The Water Sisters," Paulus breathed, his voice barely audible.

They performed their own blessing, pouring water over the hands of the next group of soldiers, their movements fluid, almost ritualistic. The murmured blessings were too soft to hear, but their impact was unmistakable. As soon as the rite was complete, they retreated, their expressions untouched by the chaos that loomed ahead.

"The carriages are ready," shouted someone in the back. With a sudden urgency, the Fire and Water Sisters gathered their robes and hurried toward a line of waiting carriages. In moments, the priestesses were gone, vanishing from the battlefield as quickly as they had come.

Galus frowned, watching the retreating figures. "Why did they leave so quickly?"

"They cannot be captured," Paulus replied, his voice low. "To lose them would bring bad omens to their kingdom."

A shift rippled through the Alpen soldiers as the priestesses disappeared from view. There was a new look of determination about the troops after they received their blessings. Where moments ago uncertainty had lingered, now there was a new fire in their eyes.