The Tales of Miriela: Shadowborn

Chapter 21: Tallion

They were well equipped and well armored. But they were unaware and maybe that meant the Revolution had a chance. Tallion closed his eyes and took a deep breath inward. His eyes opened and his lips drew forth a loud whistle.

Instantly, the Vanguard pulled their swords. Some of the torches were dropped, others were not, but whatever light the Vanguard brought with them, was nearly gone. Upon Tallion's signal, the Revolution plunged from the hiding places in the wall and cast their steel towards the waiting Vanguard. The men clashed in the dimly lit tunnel. The sound of knives cutting through fleshy throats, replacing air with blood, echoed throughout the tunnel. Tallion thrust his sword through the dark, aiming for any shimmer of armor, or any sound of chainmail.

Amidst the chaos, a strong voice called out. "Order arms! Battle ready!" A clash of sword and shield followed, along with a loud, unified grunt. Tallion wonder if they had underestimated the Vanguard, as he heard the sound of soldiers assembling themselves into a single unit.

High pitched rings of clanking swords and deep thuds of fists to skulls made the dark battleground a pit of confusion. Tallion continued, attacking into the darkness, hoping his sword would find the chest of a Vanguard soldier.

But he saw almost nothing. The few torches that still burned, only held a small flame. But although he could see little, Tallion knew that the attack around him was not going as planned.

The breath of a sword passed over his right shoulder; another again over his left. Warm blood spewed across his face, and mixed with the sweat of his forehead. Yet he continued to strike forward, for there was no other way to go. War surrounded him, and was closing in, soon to take him as well.

Tallion shoved his blade through the dark again, this time, meeting flesh on the other end. But the darkness would not reveal whether it had met friend or foe. Tallion furthered the steel with a forceful push and shrieks of sorrow continued to filled the hopeless tunnel.

As he recalled his sword, a heavy blow struck Tallion across his head, and cast him to the ground. The sword was no longer with him, knocked into the darkness as he fell. Tallion crawled, blood, sweat, and dirt now formed a thick clay across his face. His hands scavenged the ground for a weapon, something to defend himself. But the darkness hid such things very well and Tallion only found the dirt and blood which surrounded him.

But the darkness lay like a blanket over him, keeping him hidden from the chaos. The torches began to die down, some already extinguished, and the screams grew fewer and fewer, as the sounds of war began to lessen.

Tallion remained as quiet as possible, wondering who remained with him in the tunnel. Amidst the darkness, there still lay on torch, a dying ember, a red point in a wall of black. Tallion quietly moved towards it and reached out his hand. He kept it low to the dirt, trying not to draw any attention.

Tallion took the flame to his lips and softly blew his breathe, providing a source for the flame to grow. The torch cast a light, just enough to see out past his feet. Tallion crawled further, on his hands and knees, not knowing if he was moving towards or away from his enemy.

He searched for the wall. He knew that the Revolution had placed torches in some of the wall's voids. If he could light one, he may have a chance at survival. If not through victory, he may at least escape. As he searched, he heard nothing but his own breath and his legs dragging through the dirt.

Tallion reached out his hand and felt the stone wall. He followed it, as before and located another void. He pulled himself up, still slightly disoriented, and stepped into the void. A torch sat fixed upon the wall. The torches were all connected, if one was lit the others would follow. Tallion had helped line the tunnel walls with them, long ago. Tallion's flame touched the torch's wick and it lit.