A Ghost's Wish [MxM]

61. A Stampede

The clouds came as quickly as the winds. Oliver watched the grey skies with trepidation. The army had calmed, but they still felt naively elated. He had still demanded a night watch despite the protests of the others. 

However, those who regained their memories didn't argue. Their overwhelming trust in his instincts directed them to enforce Oliver's decisions. 

As the storm started to settle in, he could feel resentment from the soldiers standing watch. He didn't fault them because it was a miserable task.

He looked at the clouds again as lightning flickered, lighting the land with bright white for a moment before being devoured by darkness again. 

The others didn't sense it, but he could smell war in the air. They lit the fuse when they destroyed the Taotie Orbs, but the threat wasn't gone.

Oliver sighed and then entered the tent to join the realm leaders. Amongst Oliver's old comrades, Conrad and Phoibe sat at the table. They proved to be miserably stubborn and ignored Oliver's and Draco's pleas to have them return to Abrorg. 

The group didn't look up from the map lying across the table.  They presented their ideas, debating the best strategy for the upcoming battle. Quincey pointed to several tactical vantage points while Imran distributed the strength within the armies. They seemed to have been speaking for a while, and their voices were hoarse.

Sometimes the others would interject, and then the arguing would ensue. Despite the harsh tones being flung around, the discussion was harmonious... and loud. 

Oliver was used to brooding silence as he planned his next attack. The droning discussions were enough to draw a smile from his lips.

Draco looked up from the map and ushered him over to the empty chair next to him. Oliver sat down with a sigh, his eyes skimming over the markings on the map. 

A loud boom of thunder sounded, and Oliver flinched. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his nerves. However, he was convinced that something wasn't right. 

Another round of rumbling thunder crescendoed overhead, and Oliver's attention was snapped toward the outside, downing out the chatter of the men around him. The rain started to fall heavily, roaring with the whistling wind threatening to tear down their tents. 

"Oliver?"

"Guardian?"

"...Oli?"

He didn't hear the people calling out to him. Instead, he focused on the storm. That disquieting feeling was intensifying. Something ominous was closing in on them.

Beneath the thunders, Oliver was able to hear the roars of beasts.  

His violet eyes trembled as he heard the creatures within the storm. Usually, the plains' beasts would vacate areas with a large population of humans. And if there were a storm, they would seek shelter.  There was no way they would be out in the open and competing with the weather.

Lightning streaked across the sky, reflecting the dread in Oliver's eyes. A crash of thunder made the world tremble, and their horses cried out. Deep in the plains, roars of countless beasts responded.

They came from one direction, and when the thunder sounded again, Oliver could tell they were coming closer.  

The other leaders were watching him, completely forgetting their original purpose of the meeting. More roars intertwined with the thunder and howls of beasts. Closer still.

Oliver stood from his chair, toppling it over, and rushed outside.  The rain hit him, instantly soaking him. The wind ripped at his white clothes and hair, making him look like a ghostly apparition.