Silver Cathedral Saga: Observer Chronicles, Book 1

The Payment

It was on the fields of Shrin.

The lines were scattering, in a matter of minutes now the Shadows had broken through the Earth-wielders power.

Yet they were taken by some other destructive force they had not seen before. It was not a dragon like the ones told in legend on Amaranth. It was something grey, bigger and mightier. It became clear to most that this beast was a living siege weapon, kept to break the strongest magick that kept Swansie safe from their Shadows blackness.

There was only one; but one was all it took to shatter the protective rock wall that flew in all directions. It cracked and was flung apart bit by bit, too easily for some mindless beast. There was a greater power in front of them here they had not foreseen or even thought or dreamt about.

The Beast-casters had, in turn, turned into this creature, as they thought this would be a great advantage, yet it was not of their world or any of the near ones magick and religion, and in doing so, they turned into beasts themselves; the magick of the gods could only protect those who belonged there; unless they were lucky enough to be an Edeolon, and their body, mind and spirit allowed to adapt to further, stranger lands at accelerated speeds.

The Shadows started to come forward, and there was in about a minute of them all walking from their starting position—a charge upon the Astorians. It had started.

There were, of course, some Battle-casters spared for the front lines, but most were kept for what tactical advantage they could get by air.

Though it seemed that would be a mistake now, as this living siege weapon had wings; even though it looked too big to fly.

"What is this sorcery of a beast," said a strangely familiar voice that was female.

"It is the spawn from the underworld. A keeper of souls. Only it has come for ours today; to keep," said another Spell-caster amidst the scattering lot breaking in fear still. Some of the Spell-casters fell into the depth of Swansie, and it seemed hope was lost with their lack of courage.

Only the dawn came upon them, and with it, the Fire-casters limitless stamina. The beast came to the front lines, and a warrior with long hair flowing from both cuts on (the side of) her helmet stood in front. The creature tried to stare her down and scare her away. But she took her sword in her hand and grasped at it harder. She then positioned herself to throw the sword into the eye of the beast, and when she did, hitting it precisely where she wanted, the being wailed and screeched before flailing.

The Spell-casters that were there, looking at the beast, were few, but this female warrior gave them a little courage to rally forward and strike at the unmissable gigantic life on the battlefield with their magick before the sun bathing them.

The Shadows had suddenly stopped now, watching the frightening grey being bashed its head against the soldiers, in rage. Fire-casters threw volleys of magickally controlled fire at it, some in flames ascending upon its feet, some in balls of fire. Some just encompassing it, hoping the heat would make it fall. The flames grew, and soon enough there were mammoth amounts propelled on it all at once, as the Spell-casters seemed to once again find their will to fight.

The beast's will fell after a little while, more from the raging flames fired at its four feet, which seemed longer than it actually was. The Earth-casters then called up the strongest roots and vines to strap the beast down so that it was trapped and couldn't move. Nature's life sprang to life from the ground and adhered to the commands of aid. One Star-caster, then another, used their star travelling magick to cause some sense of blindness, as they flew close to the beast in their shooting star form, being completely safe, which is rarely the case in any battle.

Then that familiar voice called out again on the battlefield: "There is no room for the underworld here," said this voice in anger. She took off her helmet, the others, shocked at who it was. "I am queen to this land, to these people." She stood before the beast as it tried to break free, and it did, its strength was mightier than the earth magick that tried to keep it bound to the ground and earth. She looked up to the dying stars, the one that was disappearing from the dawn being upon them. "Upon a star a child is born, inside the dark she turns from dawn; by night she becomes herself. But everything else is for our help!"

She clenched her fists, and shot out from both of them, aiming at this living siege weapon—a star energy (the colour of those stars one sees at night not sat alone in the sky) that was as bright as a star itself; only she could see the light without it hurting her eyes. The two beams joined to make one when she brought her hands closer together. The magick seemed to glow a white within the blue on the edges when the beams met, and it struck the head of the beast with such force that it pushed it up with a snap and crack, and fell down quickly with a twisted and broken neck.

The queen and the Spell-casters waited for the beast to move again—but it did not. It was clearly dead, and there was some great relief from it.

They all cheered for a few seconds for their victory from this remarkably big beast.

The Beast-casters had killed many of their own from turning into a beast just the same and mindless, but as soon as the beast they copied from did in fact die, it returned them to their forms unharmed; but in a state or pure exhaustion.

But then they all saw the Shadows begin to move forward. The dead siege weapon's body was still near them, but it didn't change what was about to come for them.

The blackness seemed to be taking over in mind, as well as in sight. The tens of thousands plagued over the Shrin Plains like a sickness similar to a plague.

The queen shouted, "Form the lines. Form—the—Lines," she shouted even louder. Those that still stood with some courage, felt it creep away again looking out to the numbers growing nearer.

The lines formed, but what was left was so few, that they seemed like rogue droplets against a mighty winter coming; ready to be chilled and frozen.

The queen spoke again. "I am no ordinary queen standing here with you today. Today, you stand with part of Starao herself. Her blood is in me, and also part of her power. Which is why we will win this." She yelled so strong her voice cracked.

The Spell-casters all gathered their internal and physical strength.

"Rangers, fire on my mark," said the queen as she pulled out the sword from the dead beast's eye. She held it up, before swinging it around, as if the ease of combat had come back to her from this sword. She then pointed the blade in the direction of the Shadows nearing.

"Fire," said the queen.

The volleys of icicles came from one side, and fire from another. Two opposites. They were only less than two hundred left now, and there were more rangers than close-range fighters. Which meant this battle was going to end really fast in one way or another.

Then it happened. They all crashed into each other, with the might of thunder. With a mighty roar that erupted, and swamped all that was good in the world.

Then, as they started crashing into one another, the few Battle-casters and Shadows, all listening now, heard a noise murmur in the background.

The descendant of Starao was fighting with the might of a Battle-caster, as all royalty created the Swan Knights and kept its tradition alive with its family and those they think are adequate. She flung groups of Shadows aside with the power of her mind magick; and it seemed to be stronger than those other Battle-casters, though it was not clear if this was because she was of royal blood or the descendant of Starao; maybe the two combined made it this way. A hybrid kind of Swan Knight and Battle-caster.

She looked to the sky, seeing something with her descendant blood a lot of the others didn't get the chance to see, nor could see; her demigod-like eyes seemed better than all those around her, most of her senses were. A trait that would become a clear sign of a relationship to a certain little girl in the future not too far down the line.

There were small dots flying through the sky, but Snowbridge carried on fighting for those after a brief moment seeing them near the last standing city behind her, and for her family, and people that made up this world she had grown and learnt to love, and be thankful for what her ancestor had done—for what Starao herself had started.