Alara Unbroken - Doug Beyer [66]
“I’m just a prophet, not a ruler, your honor. But I would propose that we go to war immediately. That we raise an army, and assault our enemies who emerge from distant lands, those who wish to crush all of Bant. That we invade the world they call Esper, to save our own.”
Aarsil stood up from her throne, her gilded robes flowing around her. She paced back and forth across the dais, all eyes on her.
“Thank you for your words, Iama,” she said.
Iama bowed and sat.
“These are words none ever wish to hear,” she said. “These portents of catastrophe are never welcome. But they align with the whispers I have heard in my ear of late, both from my fellow man and from the angels themselves. My dreams, it seems, are coming true as well. For months now I have been convinced that there are forces afoot that are greater than my caste, greater than my nation, and greater perhaps than all of the nations of the world together—but in my lack of resolve, I kept silent. Seeing Giltspire fall convinced me that I needed to listen to my heart, and to act. I called this meeting not just to discuss philosophy with you, my friends and advisors. I called you here to declare the unification of the nations of Bant, and to declare war.”
Rafiq’s heart pounded. He gripped the arm of his chair.
“Bant faces invasion by a foreign world, a world its denizens call Esper,” said Aarsil. “Bant is now at war with Esper. The army is being raised as we speak.”
Aarsil clasped her hands together in a gesture of unity, or prayer. “All I need now is a general. And I am happy to say that there is one among us who can lead this force. He has shown that he can do what must be done, and he will lead us to victory.”
All eyes turned to Rafiq.
Rafiq took a deep breath.
BANT ESPER FRONTIER
Knight-General Rafiq and his second Mubin rode on ahead of Asha’s Army—the unified legions of all the nations of Bant—into the gray mist that shrouded the Jhessian coast. The first gale of the stormfront hit them like a wall, and pelted them with diagonal rain. The air smelled of moisture and ozone. In the distance Rafiq saw a huge gray thunderhead looming from the earth to the heavens, swirling in on itself and spinning with flecks of unknown matter. Particles swarmed ahead of the storm. They were flying creatures of some kind—hundreds of them.
“It looks like a swarm of bees,” said Mubin.
“How far are they? Those are some big bees,” said Rafiq. “Aven?” he guessed.
“Well, they certainly aren’t angels.”
“Scouts!” Rafiq called up to the hawk aven above. “I need eyes on those flyers. Do not engage them—just report back as soon as you can.”
Three aven scouts screeched assent and flew off ahead.
“You and I need to call out their army’s champion,” said Rafiq.
“Rafiq, we don’t know this army.”
“That’s exactly why I need to beat their champion immediately.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Look, they’re an unknown force from who knows where. We don’t know their strength, but frankly, to me, they look like they could raze all of Jhess in a matter of days. That’s why you and I are riding ahead, and why we’ll challenge their leader and put this matter to rest before this gets out of hand. Ready my ceremonial shield.”
Mubin’s ears twitched, but he didn’t say anything.
As they watched the front ahead, they saw the three aven scouts approach the mass of flyers ahead of the swirling storm. Two of the aven spasmed in flight, then arced out of the sky. Their bodies crashed to the ground and bounced once, limply, and didn’t move again. The other aven seemed to hesitate in the sky, then turned around and flew back in the direction of the knights.
Rafiq and Mubin exchanged glances.
“Magic?” said Mubin.
“No magic can kill a man outright,” said Rafiq. “They must have archers.”
“Rafiq, this doesn’t feel right. …”
“Get out the banners,” said Rafiq. “We need to make it clear we’re champions here for ritual combat.”
“No. Rafiq, my old friend, I think we need to retreat,