The Banner Series: book one prologue: Alexander

The Great Battle

Magic, a force like no other. It sits at the centre of so much in this world.

The countries, the people, the land we walk the air we breathe. The very life we live as mortals is in debt to the magic that runs through our veins. It allows for us to be greater, stronger, powerful.

Magic is a perfect entity, moving in a loop, an endless cycle keeping itself perfectly balanced. We as people are imperfect in nature and have allowed ourselves to become so deluded to believe that magic exits, solely, to bend to our will. But the magic of the land will soon see this as an imbalance. A virus. Vander has us slaughtering entire populations, because of his connection to magic, because of what he has seen. I once thought that because the magical power that runs within the kingsblood was the most powerful, that it would also be the purest. I now see that I was wrong.

My natural affinity for magic has led me all over the continent. I have seen and done things unimaginable, great things, at least, I once thought they were. Dissolution has befallen me, it has pierced my heart, but has granted me clarity, I know what must be done. I just hope that I will be strong enough in the end to see it through. The ground started to shake. We had breached the walls.

I limped out of my tent, my heart pounded through my armour almost in time with the chants of the army below me. Masses of soldiers stood in their battalions cheering in unison as Aphilintra's newest siege weapon the devastator, a gargantuan revolving cannon, cooled down. The initial battle was won with minimal casualties and the kings forces had retreated inside.

Up on this hill I felt so far away from the battle, not what I was used to at all. I needed to be with my soldiers, but my wounds had not yet healed. Scraped by a ballista bolt, I was lucky to have lived. A stray beam of sun hit my face blinding me temporarily, before it was engulfed by dark clouds that circled the castle. Cold settled in, the smell of brewing rain filled my nose, the king was not amused.

Like a giant blue whip, a lightning bolt flew from one of the clouds scraping the landscape below. Soldiers were blown to pieces, siege towers splintered, and the devastator, melted. The dark clouds circled the top of the castle like a maelstrom, from them more bolts appeared, but this time held their fury, waving like tentacles suspended mid-air. So, this was the true power of the kings command.

Frantic footsteps came from behind me, "my Xeran!"

My most trusted brother Gregory knelt before me, behind him also knelt his son Fathreil and the northwoman Joskia. Years of campaigning had had its toll on them too. Gregory had lost an eye and his once burning faith for the crown. Once we had discovered the truth, I thought he would never hold a sword again. Fathreil was far from the lad I met ten years ago, I could see in his complexion, in his eyes, innocence had completely disappeared. Joskia an enemy turned dear friend, her family, wife and two daughters obliterated by a rogue magi left to roam free by the crown.

How much more will they have to endure? How much more loss will the people of this land suffer for the betterment of those with a supposed, higher existence?

"What news do you bring from the front brother?"

Without delay Gregory rose and moved swiftly to my side, he placed his hand on my shoulder.

"As soon as we breached the walls, I knew we'd made a mistake."

I was confused, "what do you mean mistake?"

"The walls had a seal on them, keeping something locked away."

"And what would that be?"

A huge explosion shook the ground behind me, another tentacle had swiped at the army. "I see, so it's an elemental."