Book 1: Chapter 8.2

Book 1: Chapter 8.2

Brin knew right away that this army was on a different level than the one that had destroyed Travin’s Bog. Compared to this, that had been a small raiding party. The dregs.The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñøv€l-B1n.

This army was arrayed in diverse but orderly units. Pikes forward, shields next, archers in back, then cavalry or irregulars. Mixed units but every monster in its place. They all wore gleaming black armor, not the thin black clothes of the Undead Soldiers from before. Their weapons looked new, and many of them glowed with inner light, some red, others blue. It wasn't an illusion. All of this was real.

Several units had beasts; smaller, human-sized undead held the leashes of snarling wolves the size of horses, or huge red and brown crocodiles with teeth that didn’t all fit in their mouths. Above the rest, rose the intimidating forms of fully plated giants, some of them sixteen feet tall. These ones carried outrageous clubs, so big they could be columns from the Parthenon.

They walked with organized precision. Every moment, new soldiers smoothly exited the forest and joined their ranks.

He couldn’t hear them, though. He couldn’t hear anything above the sound of Lumina’s chanting. She finished her spell, and a bar of shining flame blasted towards the army.

Halfway to the army, it detonated, blocked by spell or skill from the army. He felt the heat of the explosion, and shielded his eyes with his hands. It felt hot against his skin.

Staff-wielding undead returned with magic of their own, green balls of flame. Lumina intercepted them with thin blades of blue light, and returned with more fire and ice of her own, which the undead blocked in turn. The entire field between Lumina and the army became a fireworks show of detonating spells.

Brin looked at his hands, seeing them starting to grow red with sunburn. Not from the sun, but from the radiation of magical warfare.

Galan stepped forward. Brin couldn’t see his face, but the [Untiring Knight] looked confident and proud. He walked forward, undaunted, then his walk turned to a run and he charged into the mess of spellfire. He didn’t flinch as the spells detonated around him like artillery shells. A bolt of green fire hit his shield head on, and he ran through it, not slowing at all.

There was a part of Brin that wished he could run with Galan. Not out of some desire for suicide. Rather he wished he was stronger, that he could be the type of man who could run with Galan, to face those kind of odds with the same courage Galan was showing. His locked System was like shackles around his ankles and a collar around his neck.

“[True Communication],” said Galan, in a quiet, calm voice that Brin could still hear clear as day, despite the distance and the noise of the magical warfare. Then Galan’s voice grew painfully loud. “”

He spoke in the strange, magical language that Lumina used, only this time Brin could understand every word. “

A breeze blew in, then turned to a wind, blowing at Galan’s back. It cooled the sweat all down Brin’s back, and on his face. He touched the wetness below his nose. Not sweat. His nose was bleeding. And his ears.

The breeze brought ghostly figures to Galan’s side, until he ran in a line with fifty phantoms. Knights, in full armor, just like him. They grew more real by the second, filling in, becoming substantial.

He couldn’t tell what they really looked like, since they were all in full plate armor, except one, the one who ran next to Galan didn’t have a helmet.

Instead, he wore a golden crown on a pearly-white skull.

Galan crashed into the enemy with an army of the righteous dead by his side.

Lumina kept up her chanting, fire in her eyes. “ <>

“Are they going to be ok? The others, I mean,” said Brin.

“You don’t have to worry about those three. They can take care of themselves. Now here, have something to eat. It’ll all clear up all nice-like,” said Hogg.

The Heroes had let Brin bring a little bag with his few meager possessions and some food, but Hogg brought out a sausage from his own bag and handed it to Brin. Brin tore into, not about to question the gift. He wasn’t sure why cranky old Hogg was being so nice all of the sudden, but there wasn’t much Brin could do but wait for the other shoe to drop.

The meat was divine, and it helped him shake off the last of the shell-shock. He was so entranced that he almost missed it, but out of the corner of his eye, Hogg split.

The real Hogg turned invisible and retreated back the way they had come. An illusory Hogg stayed, walking along next to him.

It was the first time he’d been able to get a good long look at an illusion without worrying about imminent death. He couldn't help but be impressed. In short, Hogg’s body double was good. Perfect.

No matter how much he stared, Brin couldn’t find even the tiniest flaw. While he’d seen mistakes in the undead’s illusory flame right away, Hogg didn’t give anything away. His feet sank into the ground just the right amount. He left faint foot-prints in the pine needles, smushing them organically, matching the natural unevenness of the ground. They walked towards a patch of sunbeam, where sunlight illuminated the dust in the air, but even that was perfect. The dust swirled around Hogg’s fake like he was really disturbing the currents of air.

“What are you staring at?” asked Hogg.

“I um... do you have some more?” asked Brin.

“Let’s wait to see if you keep that down first. Then I’ll give you some more,” said Hogg.

“What about water?” asked Brin.

“You have water, don’t’cha?”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

Brin really was thirsty, so he brought out his water bottle and started chugging, certain he could down the entire thing.

“Slow down there,” said Hogg. “Small sips. Wait to see if your body can handle it.”

“Right. Thanks,” said Brin.

Brin did as he asked, and took small sips. He had the bottle to his mouth, when Hogg said, “So what’s Ee Yart huh like?”

Brin didn’t catch exactly what Hogg was asking, so he didn’t give the old guy the reaction he was probably hoping for. Brin calmly drank his water and asked, “What?”

Hogg peered at Brin, squinting, as if trying to read something in very fine print. “Eart-huh. Earth. What’s it like on Earth?”