1
THE ATTACK ON THARAT
Cerus, gazing from his position atop a sandstone cliff, looked across the sun baked landscape at what would become his battlefield. A sea of golden dunes swept across the immense valley below. On a plateau in the center of the valley, like a behemoth of stone, stood the city of Tharat, one of the four major cities of the Sihdrosempire. Rich and vast, with deserts, mountains and rich, fertile lands;Tharat was one of its most protected cities. Its formidable fortifications had not fallen in centuries. It's great, red-stone walls embedded with square towers that soared high. And inside Tharat's walls, stood sandstone monuments and stone palaces decked with gold and treasures. It had not fallen in millennia, but Cerus felt its time as an eternal city, would soon cease.
Cerus and his commanders, each were leading thirty thousand warriors, under the supreme ruler and warlord, Korat-Omurin. He was the leader of the Horde; a nomadic force of thousands that gathered from peoples across great vast plains to the north, inhabited by tribes that united to fight and break from the control of empires across the continent and forge their own rule. Wandering for years, amassing a vast force, they plundered and took cities and strongholds, as they swept through the Empire of Sihdros. And they now had come to its center.
Behind Cerus and the desert valley that lay below, was a raised rocky slope with cracked red earth and sand that went downward into a low-lying plain behind its cover, where the Horde had spread out in a camp of tents. His two guards stood at his side, clad in bronze armor, and longbows at their sides. As Cerus surveyed the city, he saw its walls stood at over a hundred feet tall, and topped with turrets. First, his forces would use siege towers to scale the plateau's walls, each holding over one hundred and fifty warriors.
They will then attack from all sides, he thought, surrounding the city. There was a large cavernous archway set high above the ground into the wall, with a massive stone bridge held up by long pillars that led into its stone maw, and into the city. There were figures of sentries, tiny, compared to the long stone bridge they guarded. The bridge led across the deep valley surrounding the golden stone plateau, reaching to the side with small towers near it and a small fortress. They would send a battalion through the entry and batter down its gates.
Next, they would bring siege towers across the bridge and surround and scale the walls from all sides, attacking the entrance and entering the city. Then, they would be reinforced by the forces scaling the walls from all sides. They would do this all at night, when the shadow of the city's wall would cover them, making their advance partly unseen. But, when they cross the bridge, their swiftest archers would have to eliminate the sentries. Then the battle for the city would begin. Satisfied with his plan, he made his approach to the other commanders to confer the plan for attack.
∞
Night, began to soak light from the sky as dusk turned the heavens into a sea of darkness with pinpoints of stars; and the two moons, Uramir and Duras, suspended in the night sky, with a small glow. Cerus and the two other commanders, Araz and Eras, held a council. Cerus's strategy, with Araz's additional tactics about their approach t-o the city being unseen, was agreed upon by the council.
They then went to the regal tent, colored red and gold, on a small hill at the center of the camp where there were four guards surrounding it. They entered and came into an area with a gold and ebony throne in the center with red cloths as walls and the ceiling was held up by long wooden supports where lanterns hung, illuminating the room. A leopard's skin lay at the feet of a red and gold robed man with a thin black beard and high forehead. He wore a circlet of gold and at the center, a shard of crystal blue stone with spider-webbed pattern of stark white. He had two advisors at his side, and as they entered, the man in the throne looked up. He was the supreme leader and warlord of the entire Horde, rarely seen by others. "What brings you to my attention?" he asked in a deep and throaty voice, like a bear. "We have planned the attack, Korat-Omurin," said Cerus, adding the respectful suffix to his title. "And the Horde will be ready."
∞
Tengri felt the harsh sun of the desert beat down upon his neck, as he saw the image flash through his mind sending a continuous stream of questions and thoughts. He still was amazed at the vastness of what he saw, while he was scouting across the central desert on his yearlong task he was assigned by the Imperial High Command. He was heading north, back to his homeland. Then he saw the giant army: they had spread out in their thousands, in the darkness of the night, their tents covering the ground like bumps on a giant's skin.
He had seen the city of Tharat, its earthy walls glowing in the last golden rays of the sun, and settled to camp along a stream, where he saw the city from afar, on his rocky hill. He woke before they could see him sleeping on the hill. And to utter disbelief, and doubt of whether he was awake, or dreaming some impossible nightmare. He saw in the valley below, what his eyes would never dream of. 90,000 armed warriors, moving in a silent sea, hidden from the view of the city's eyes, their giant horses and their bronze armor glinting in the light of the dawn.
When his thoughts cleared, the impossibility of the situation hit him like a punch in the face. And the vulnerability of his situation he was in. He then crept silently down the hillside, his feet slipping on the rocks, and fear coursing through him and the mad drive to escape and run to report to his superiors. He was bound to eternal loyalty with the elves, when he took the vow to his people and to the empire when he had become one of the Eldur, the elite warriors that were able to perform powerful feats of magic, and where trained in the arts of war, they were the elves greatest warriors.
He was given the task of travelling through this distant and empty desert while others of his kind where sent to guard borders, carry out assassinations and act in the will of the Emperor. He knew this would be valuable information. He like others felt the stirring of rival powers in the south, beyond the reach of the elves power. Where the desert kingdom of Sihdros lay, no one knew they had swept through it; so swiftly, and decimating whatever came in their way.
The Sihdrosempire of the Red Wastes, for centuries had guarded a path across the desert, through the giant continental ridge that ran through the continent. The Ridge, that separated the worlds from the lands beyond to the far east, where many had tried to cross for eons. The ancients believed it was the spine of the earth-god Murrat. Sihdros had resisted the conquest of the Empire for centuries, vainly guarding the pride of their people that the elves sought after. Now it had entirely changed, a new player had arrived; and we won't allow these humans get a hold of the Path before us Tengri thought bitterly, I must warn the Empire.
He had then set off, down the hillside, ducking behind rocky crags and stealing away as swiftly as he could, then turning his back, and riding north ahead, when he was far enough away from Horde encampment. Tharat’s towers were lost in the receding horizon as he rode, knowing that soon it would fall, and the impossible truth that he was the only one who knew it.
After three days of riding north back to Elvas, the lands where the elves lived, on hisOtyir; a slender, light-brown furred animal that had large, flapping ears that lay flat upon its head. It had round dark eyes, with two curling horns protruding from its forehead. It was a native animal to the Red Wastes and could travel miles without tiring. He was used to the horses the elves rode, but the Otyir had its reins fitted into its horns, and it rode like an elk, instead of the gallop of a horse.
∞
Kharaf, had been stationed as a watch for the night, he was one of the guards, and he had been for most of his life. And he always felt the pride and comfort of Tharat's walls and defenses that had not fallen in thousands of years. But he had, like others, heard the ominous news of a great force that was amassing in the north, and quickly advancing. No one knew how close, the last they had been seen, was months before in the mountains, miles from the city.
Centuries ago, the Sihdrosempire found a way through the ridge, deep in the Red Wastes. They built, and strengthened their empire around it, constructing walls and strongholds, in this way, they would have ultimate control of it. But still, the harsh, arid land around it made it impossible to cross. The way through the ridge, was the jewel of the Sihdros, their claim to glory would be enter the Beyond.
To prepare for the Great Crossing, slowly over time, they exercised more control of the lands, edging closer and braving the harshness as they expanded.
Kharaf heard of the Elves that lived in the north, and like many, and his father before him, despised them. He knew the Elves had planned an invasion of their Empire, and many feared their powerful kind. They had extinguished almost all civilizations of humans and reduced them to tribes, and savage kingdoms. Sihdros were the last standing. He like others, were beginning to worry about the ominous, powerful sweep coming through.
He turned his thoughts to the dark, desert landscape, and then heard a great whizzing sound, like the hissing of a thousand snakes. He looked, and saw the night sky filled with fiery points descending in a vast rain.
The Horde had attacked.
∞
Tengri, had rode through the empty plains of the north, after crossing through the deserts, and expansive lands. He was nearing the mountains that surrounded the shimmering inland sea of Thriassi. He boarded one of the empire's ships, to cross the sea, and sail to the isle of Earron, to speak before the war council.
As he neared the island, the sea around him was sparkling gold from the sun that always seemed like morning. As the strip of land came into view, Earron, the magnificent city became visible. It was surrounded with cold mist that the sun shone through, displaying it's stunning golden-stone pillars, monuments, temples, and palaces.
He was taken to the temple on a mountain where the sacred council of war resided. They decided on the empire's actions for war. Tengri trekked up the mountain, escorted by a group of elite guards, through a skillfully carved gaping arch in the walls surrounding the temple. And they went across a guarded bridge made of stone, crossing over to a vast arch opening, with pillars that led into a dark gaping hallway.
Surrounded by guards, Tengri walked through the arch and into a cavernous dark hallway, with walls lined with incredibly detailed giant stone statues of gods, emperors and kings, stretching back in time. They stared down at him as he walked, and came to a wide, hexagonal dark hole cut into the wall, which was larger and wider than the tallest elf. The guards, at that stage, had abruptly stopped. Gesturing for him to enter, he tentatively stepped through, and into the darkness. Then, he felt his body lift the ground, and felt weightless as he lost all feeling.
∞
The city had fallen. Tharat, the eternal and longstanding city was bending to the iron fist of the Horde. The attack they inflicted had drawn out long through the cold night, first with a rain of lit arrows, then, the Horde entered with devastating speed and ferocity.
The city gave its last cry, as a horn sounded and the last remnant of the great guards and legions it once possessed, gave its final charge into the enemy, met with spears, swords, and their end.
The colossal city of Tharat, had thick columns of smoke rising above it. The buildings, towers, walls, temples and palaces, were lit with a fiery glow against the night sky. The city was burnt and charred, and ash began falling like snow upon the blood and bodies of the Horde's fallen foe. The Horde, surrounding the city, watched victorious. Cerus felt the future press upon him, as he walked the smoking battlefield littered with death and wreckage.
He then heard a cry that rang out in the distance. A commotion of men stirred around a object of importance, with surprised shouts, he peered to see the issue at hand, and saddled onto his horse, and galloped towards the sound.
2
WAR COUNCIL
Tengri entered a room after the odd sensations, light flashed in front of him as he entered a massive, cavernous circular room, with marble floors, and a solemn atmosphere, like a massive tombstone.
He stared around the room where he saw long, high-backed thrones slender carved out of a bluish stone in a ring around the room. He stood in the center on a mosaic.
There were seated, twelve Elves, with circlets of a crystal blue stone upon their foreheads. They were old, with solemn expressions and motionless bodies. Each one of them from the left side onward seemed to be older than the last. The first of the twelve had a completely white beard and hair and a lined and old face that looked like an ancient oak tree. Tengri had never seen an older person in his lifetime.
Tengri stood, uncertain, as he scanned the men before him, a set of elves in what seemed to be deep thought. Then he heard something inside of his mind that opened like an audible thought.
You are here as to warn us of a coming future, it said, in a chorus of whispers. Tengri, baffled, realized that the voices were emanating from the people sitting before him. Not knowing how to respond, he stood trying to process the situation, both bizarre and awe-filled. He knew he was standing before powerful and infinitely wise Council; elves that were the ones who decide the fate of the elves in war.
He tentatively tried to begin, "O, great twelve-some of Elves," he said, his voice quavering. "I have traversed great distances, and have seen of the amassing armies of a Horde bearing on the empire in the distant south, of the Red Wastes. They are a force of thousands that I sighted near mountains. The empire, Sihdros, has the Way into the Beyond. And is guarding it, and that we have desired to obtain for centuries, the Horde will soon siege the capital and has been seen readying its attack for Tharat. If we strike when the capital Tyras, is being attacked by the Horde, we can steal the tide of battle and overrun the city, while its defenses are being occupied by the Horde. Then, we can expel them."
The twelve men's eyes and faces shifted, as if processing and judging, then after a moment of tense silence, they began to speak inside his mind in the majestic wise tone they spoke. "This is a chance, we must move swiftly and with force, Sihdros must fall, but our actions must be carefully played." Tengri, who felt this inside his mind, was unsure for a moment, and then responded; "When, people of the Council, will we attack?"
We will begin to rally our legions, and bring all Eldur to battle, the Circle of Uras will make the final call. And by high emperor's ruling, the war will begin.
Tengri felt his mind reel as he realized that a great clash was about to begin. He was still absorbing the fact that he had given powerful knowledge that was now leading to a war that would decide on the outcome of a new age.
3
THE BATTLE OF TYRAS
Cerus had reached the spot where the cry and the commotion had been heard - across the smoking, sandy battlefield, littered with fallen foe. When he came, he saw his fellow commanders and a circle of warriors kneeling before a tall and broadly built man, lying eagle-spread on the earth.