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Part V ~ War for Oranirock

When I open my eyes again it is no longer night. The skies are a thick blanket of gray clouds with faint, hazy light shining through.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Good, you’re awake. We’re almost there. And the sky … I don’t know. It was dark for a an hour or so after you fell asleep. Then out of nowhere the night lifted and was replaced with these gray clouds and has been this way since.”

“You think Valkyrie survived?”

Tuck shakes his head. “No. I think Orion got the upper hand, but Valkyrie must have wounded him critically. He probably tried to catch up to us, but lost so much strength that he couldn’t make it all the way. I think they’re both dead. That’s why the sky is like this.”

Gray and gloomy—so this will be the backdrop for the coming battlefront. Below I watch as we pull away from the forestation and riverbeds, and glide over a vast red canvas of dry, cracked soil.

“This is the Sirenic Desert. We are here.” Tuck turns around to look at me. “Are you ready?”

I’m not. But I swallow and nod anyway.

“Yaw!” He snaps the reins.

The phoenix dives down, gliding toward an immense red mountain range that ensconces the endless desert behind it. She spreads her glittering wings to ride an air current and soars over the mountain peak.

“Here we go,” Tuck says.

When we glide over the mountain, the curtain lifts, and we set our eyes on what it was hiding. The Seven Legions are amassed together with the throng of animals summoned by Antares, surrounding the Colosseum fortress like a tumultuous sea. The sight strikes me with awe and the bitterness of reality. Hundreds of thousands will die today. All their fates hinge upon, not their battle readiness, training, numbers, weapons, courage or might—but upon whatever I choose to do next.

Tuck guides the phoenix low to sail over our armies. They anthem at the glorious sight of their military commander riding the back of a legendary bird over them, inspiring courage and awe. Tuck raises his spear and roars back.

His was the courage they all look to; the courage I look to. Father made him that way. Tuck could rally the morale of even the frailest army against impossible odds. But this was no frail army.

The Seven Legions are as old as Oranirock itself. Tuck trained them personally in unparalleled combat skill and tactics. A single legionnaire can wipe out a thousand ordinary warriors; there are 7 million soldiers per legion. They array themselves in gold armor draped by red cloth at the hips and shoulders to distinguish their rank. When they stand together as a mass, they are a single entity of light, a titan warrior built of gold.

Among them are the creatures of Oranirock—the fierce and the mighty and the swift. They follow the mental will of Antares their Sentry. All but the phoenix and the few legendary creatures answer to him. They are their own entities. Black bears, white tigers, saberwolves, rhinoceroses, elephants, slothadillos and wareagles flock together and decorate the battleground, standing in ready obedience for their master to give them their orders.

A breeze of dust blows across the quiet battlescape and settles down. The still air is the skin crawling prelude to war and death as our eyes look up to the threat we stand against.

The Colosseum is the place of our nightmares. I’ve never seen it before until now. A great wall stands before us, towering above us with monstrous presence. The mountains on both of its flanks protect it like guardian golems. The front gate is the only way in and the only way to reach the Obelisk—the apex where Calligra sits on his pedestal and paints his armies. This is the center of his power—the source of his dark machinations. That is why it must fall.