No Hands but My Own

Chapter 2 - Invasion

The thumping of projectiles into the thick lumber protecting us echoed like heavy rain on a tin roof. Some were so powerful that the wood splintered; what ever these people were using they were not normal arrows. Our breathing grew heavy as we waited in anticipation. Worry entered our shelter too as more and more of our protection was turned into dust.

Finally, there was such a loud bang that we were all rendered deaf. While the earth trembled under the strength of the explosion,  we began to run. I glanced back as we ran for cover to see the fruits of our final trap -- the earth where all the ranks of men had stood was overturned.  The light demons were buried or broken. The resulting army was confused,  in pain, and negligible.

Yet even with such devastation, it felt like the broken army was only in a temporary state. Soon they would retaliate. We managed to reach the trees unharmed, though from the corner of my eye I could see the men righting themselves and dusting themselves off, getting ready.

Reliel found a tree not too far from the bridge that was tall, with plenty of branches, and (hopefully) out of range. He promptly ascended it and began working at whittling down what was left of their army.

Dilenkeh and I began our journey to the Southern corner with a new spring in our steps -- it's not often that three eliminate an army of dozens. Feeling confident was perhaps the most natural and the worst thing to do.

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The Southern set of traps was gone. Bodies littered the forest floor where the enemy had advanced. It was impossible to walk through the area without stepping on a corpse; the advancing invaders had sustained significant losses but so had we.

Naddel's and Calaraia's broken bodies had been destroyed by the advancing wave. Their skins were purple with bruises and covered with blood from cruel gaping gashes. But still, one broken hand reached for the other, as if they had known that if they died together, entwined, all the pain and the dismal road of death would have been alright. That all of it would have been alright if only they could hold each other’s hands as the darkness came.

I could feel my throat close up and I saw Dilenkeh wipe his face from the corner of my eye. It wasn’t right to leave them there but there was nothing else we could do. We could not stay long, knowing that there were murderers walking straight to our home.

Silently, I motioned to Dilenkeh who joined my side. With the utmost care, we laid them together, side-by-side. And all of a sudden, they didn’t look broken anymore. I nodded at them then turned to go; there was work to do and more lives at risk.

We ran  West.

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Battle has a smell and a feeling to it that is quite unique. The only time I had encountered anything similar to it was where healers were amputating. The stench of blood, flesh, fear, and heavy summer air mix together in a nauseating fashion. Especially when it is your own fear.

The army from the South had joined with the one from the West. As the Western army tried to ford a small river to join their companions, the Southern army was attacking the trees. They must have found Yishus. He kept firing arrows to try to keep them back and though his aim was good, the effect was small.

The sudden, convulsing deaths of a few soldiers meant that Ralerin was hiding in the trees as well -- he was one of the few of us who used a blowpipe. I sighed, glad to know that he was no longer meandering through the forest scouting when so many invaders were walking through our woods. At sixteen, he was prone to overestimating his abilities as a fighter and I wasn’t willing to lose anymore kids today if I could help it.