Rage

"I'm sorry," he said simply, and leapt into the air.

Flying as quickly as he could, Runë struggled for only a few moments. She kept trying to communicate with him, but he wouldn't let her. She was right after all, he should stay and fight. But heading north, meant keeping Runë safe. Through the night he soared, holding Runë close to shield her from the cold, he hummed to her as she slept, and into the morning the following day. Before finally, coming to a rest on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Runë stood, walking a short way away, not wanting to look at him.

"I can't lose you," Ashlard said, "I'm sorry."

Runë turned, facing him, pulling her hair to one side, she strode towards Ashlard, with a sigh, he took her gently in his arms, biting slowly into her soft flesh.

FLASH

Silence...She was upset... This feeling was painful... Images of Runë and Ashlard flashed... Holding hands... Carrying children... A home in the mountains... Blain bloodied... Ciray in chains... Tel Atun Burning...

FLASH

Ashlard collapsed, he punched the ground, screaming in rage.

.....................................................

Blain was standing on the Western wall, he could see the dust trail from the Knurligs approach. Most of the noblewomen had escaped Tel Atun via boats to neighbouring cities. He had purchased a ticket for Ciray, and he had been furious when she given it to Beatrice, the woman Ashlard rescued from Prince Greht. Her language skills had improved enough she could tell them her name. But that wasn't the real reason he was worried.

Ashlard didn't return to the castle for his lessons this morning. Blain knew he'd left, spirited Runë away. Scouts couldn't get close enough to the main force to give any information about what they were facing, and their greatest asset had run away like a selfish child. Fool of a boy... All his training, all his power, and he won't even stay to protect his friends... Was if foolishness though?

With a sigh, he couldn't help but think there was more to it than that. King Raynor had mentioned a bond between him and Runë, at first he thought it was just mutual attraction. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised Ashlard's actions and reactions were at best, protective, and at worst demonic... All in preservation of Runë. Perhaps he physically can't help himself? Maybe she asked him to take her away? He thought that unlikely, Runë was the more level headed of the two.

"Commander Blain," said a voice.

Turning, Blain made out Captain Geev.

"He's not here is he, Commander?"

"... No..."

"I see," said Captain Geev, "We need to go over the battle plan with the King."

With a sigh, Blain followed the Captain towards the war room, time to go over yet another pointless discussion. They couldn't make an informed decision until scouts could report the enemy forces...

"I'm guessing you have not heard from Ashlard?" asked the King.

"No your majesty," replied Blain.

"...Do you expect to?"

"... No... Your majesty." Blain gritted his teeth...

"I've begun deploying militia regiments," sighed King Raynor. "I want all able bodied men at arms, we don't have any reports of enemy numbers."

"Yes your majesty," Blain continued, "is it true what they say about them?"

"About what exactly?"

"Their prisoners of war..."

"She didn't leave... Did she?"

"No your majesty, she did not."

Blain stood in the tower, watching the enemy advance. They were less than a days march. The first sight of them were their war parties. Hundreds of smaller groups, their job was simple, kill the scouts before they could return with information. They were excellent trackers. He wondered if the Armoured Knurlig was leading them... That monster, if only Ashlard were here...

"You still have time to leave," said Blain.

"I won't leave you," Ciray sighed.

"I could order you."

"And I would defy your order," Ciray snapped.

"... What if the enemy takes the city?"

"My life was spared once, it is owed"

Blain took Ciray by the hand, a rare moment of affection, before he passed her a glass vial.

"Drink this before they catch you, you won't feel any pain."

Ciray didn't know if thanking him was the right word, but she understood. The Knurligs were vicious, their prisoners didn't live long unless they were women... She was so angry, Ashlard had fled, the whole tone of the city was dark. It was obvious to everyone that the Angel of Tel Atun wasn't here. Fool! She thought. She started smiling... Now I understand why Blain calls him that.

As night fell, the Knurlig army set up camp, just out of range of Tel Atun's Ballistae. Blain watched them pitching tents, the sun setting over their army. He couldn't help but shudder... Never in all their history, had this many of the clans come together. There were well over one hundred thousand, their camp stretched out over the horizon.

The following morning, Blain woke to the sound of axes on wood, the Knurligs were cutting down trees from a nearby wood. The Knurligs were building siege weapons, he wasn't even sure they had the skills. But before his eyes, appeared trebuchets and mighty rolling towers. Hearing footsteps behind him, he spotted Captain Geev hurrying towards him.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," said Blain with a sigh.

"Do we have defences against siege weapons like this?" asked King Raynor, gripping the table with white knuckles.

"The trebuchets cannot breach our walls, though they can probably hit things beyond them, the towers... Burning them before they reach the walls may be the best option."

"So your intentions are to sit and do nothing, waiting for the towers to come to us?"

"Yes your majesty."

"And what about our people?"

"Bring them to the western wall, they will be safest there until the enemy breaches the walls."

"... No word from Ash-"

"None..." spat Blain, "He has abandoned us."

That evening was quiet, Blain couldn't sleep, neither could Ciray, they lay together, arm in arm.

"What happens now?" asked Ciray.

"They should come to us with demands, if we don't accept, they will siege the city."

"What is our chances?"

"The walls will last weeks if not months, the towers are the main problem, if they get over the walls..."

"Where will you be when the fighting starts?"

Blain, pulled her close, "Holding the western gate."

"They haven't a chance then," said Ciray.

Blain just laughed, pulling her closer. He still wasn't sure how he ended up in this position. What started out as just a professional relationship, a favour to Ashlard, had slowly lead to this moment. Blain turned his head to look at the woman in his arms. He smiled awkwardly when he found she was already staring at him.

"Blain?..." Ciray whispered.

"Yes my dear?"

"Am I not attractive?"

Blain cringed, "I'm too old for you Ciray..." Blain sighed, "I appreciate your affections, and I love your company, but-"

Ciray silenced his words with a kiss. "Stupid old man!" She snarled.

"What?-"

"Stop it!" Ciray yelled, sitting up, "I was born a slave, and until I met you, I have never made a decision on my own!" She was leaning over Blain, angry tears dripping onto his chest. "Don't take this away from me... Please..."

Blain was speechless, he had known he had loved her weeks ago. But he always assumed her attraction to him was born out of her upbringing. But now, as he held her in his arms, he could feel the depth of her emotion... If we make it through this... I'll marry her...

One of the lookouts spotted them first, a small group of Knurligs approaching the western gate. A quick blast of his horn alerted Blain, who immediately ran to the edge. Sure enough, there were three riders, and the one leading them was wearing heavy bone armour.

Blain rode out with the King and his son. Once they were within earshot, the trio stopped and dismounted, approaching the Knurligs with weapons sheathed.

"My name is Baldur, I speak on behalf of Arctur, our lord and protector," called one of the Knurligs in a harsh accent.

"I am King Raynor," replied the King, "What brings your people to my gates?"

"Our lord Arctur demands total obedience, and the surrender of your Angel."

"And why does your Lord Arctur not speak for himself?"

The Armoured Knurlig suddenly stepped forward, pushing the first man aside, and with a harsh, scratchy voice, strangely devoid of accent. "you will bring him, alive and unharmed, or your city will burn... You have one day."

The three turned on the spot, immediately returning to their horses.

"Even if we knew where Ashlard was, we couldn't give him up, they will burn the city anyway." said Blain

"Agreed," said the King.

"Father," Prince Horuth spoke up, "if you gave him up, and they killed him, my death would be worth it."

"They will burn the city anyway," sighed the King, "Besides, we don't even know where he is."

Blain bid farewell to Ciray that evening, she cried as she helped him strap on his armour. They both knew it may be the last they see of one another. Taking his helmet, he brushed the green plume until it sat straight and true, before pulling Ciray into his grasp, kissing her softly he stood up.

"If I should die, and you escape, find a good husband, have lots of children, and live free," he said, turning to walk away without a second glance.

"I want your children," she said softly.

Blain only paused for a moment, but it was enough to let her know he had heard.

"Damn you Ashlard," she said quietly, wiping a tear from her eye, "damn you..."

Blain sat on a wooden crate, overlooking complete darkness. The faint outline of the countryside came into view, as the sun rose behind him. He wasn't a praying man, but he begged with all his might, the Ciray be spared.

The Knurligs had begun to stir, they were a loud bunch, and soon he could make out dark shapes melding into a dark wave. Slowly forming into identifiable battalions. The rumble of the wheeled towers piercing the darkness. Blain got to his feet... It was time to defend his home.

A quick blast of his horn, and soldiers lined themselves along the walls, in rows, they stood four deep, armed with crossbows. They were easy enough for even children to master, and as quickly as the enemy advance started, it stopped. The countryside cloaked in silence, as the sun rose over the walls. Blain quickly realised, they were outnumbered ten to one, by a wall of soulless barbarians.

Now the war cry started, it was one at first, then another, and before long, every member of the barbarian army were screaming death chants and stomping their feet. The very ground shook from the impacts. Blain could see his men falter, not knowing if they should just give up and run, or stay and fight, the fear in their eyes undeniable. And as that terrible sound reached his peak, something else joined in. Something sharper, something more terrible. The hairs on Blains neck began standing on end as the itch in his ears, turned to a wine, and finally a terrible screeching... like tearing metal. Blain thought of clutching his hands to his ears, like so many of his soldiers were doing.

That was until noticed it... The barbarians were going quiet, and as they got quiet, Blain had a sudden realisation. Turning his back to the barbarians, he looked up, seeing a huge winged figure, standing atop his tower. The Angel of Tel Atun, screaming his defiance at the barbarians, Ashlard was back.

.....................................................

Ashlard fumed, Runë was right, he always knew she was right. Dropping her quickly in the tower, he climbed to the roof, and hanging onto the pole, he screeched. Wanting to drown out the terrible battle-cries of the barbarians, and as soon as silence fell amongst the city again, a new cry rang out... One of joy, strength, and one of hope, the Angel of Tel Atun had returned.

Leaping from the tower, Ashlard snapped his wings open, flying over the city towards the barbarian army, he made his way to the closest siege tower. Flapping hard to build up momentum, he charged into the upper wall, shattering it , causing it to collapse onto the Knurligs below. The remaining structure, he sprayed his flames throughout, rendering it useless before taking to the skies. Hearing a feint whistle, Ashlard dived, seeing dozens of arrows pass overhead, he quickly made his way beyond the city walls. He probably wouldn't be so lucky taking down a second tower. He passed over the wall, to a hail of cheering, he howled a long throaty call. It was time for him to earn his title.

Ciray had been climbing the stairs to the tower, she figured if Ashlard returned, this would be where he'd come first. If not, she could watch how the battle progressed. It came as a surprise, when she opened the door, finding herself face to face with Runë. Seeing Runë holding her ears, Ciray barely had enough time to clamp her hands over here before the screeching started. The ladies huddled together, the hands muffling the sound as much as it could, but it still pierced them to their very soul. As Ashlard finally went silent, she caught a glimpse of him dive from the roof, and head off towards the Knurligs.

She cried, throwing her arms around Runë, and they held one another for a few moments before a distant crunch sound caught their attention. Quickly running to the balcony, they couldn't make out anything in the dark, until flames spewed from Ashlard's mouth, engulfing what was left of a siege tower. Ciray was awestruck, but Runë sniffed, gripping her hand tightly.

"He's fine Runë, if anyone's getting out of this it's him. And if he gets out... He'll come for you," she said.

Runë nodded slowly, before pulling Ciray in for a tight hug.

"And if you're back, he will help Blain too."

Ashlard's howl rang out of the city, signalling he had come back. A chorus of cheers went up, more than anything, he had brought hope, and that's what they desperately needed right now. Landing back on the balcony of the tower, Ashlard was greeted not just by Runë, but surprisingly by Ciray. They both threw their arms around him, stunned for a moment, he could do nothing more than to hug them back.

"Ciray," he said, "Where's Blain?"

Quickly releasing him, she stood, looking bashful, "western gate," she said quickly.

Ashlard gave Runë another quick squeeze, before gently prying of her arms from around his waist. "Look after Ciray for me," he said, noticing a quick smile under those gorgeous blue eyes.

With a leap, Ashlard was airborne, heading back to the wall. Turning to fly along until he reached the gate, and sure enough, right on top, was a grumpy looking man, wearing a helmet with a green plume. Landing quickly in front of him, he stood at his full height, looking at Blain, when unexpectedly, Blain reached back, and punched him square in the stomach. Ashlard doubled over, snapping out his scales, only to receive a second strike to the face.

"YOU DAMNED FOOL!" Blain roared, "you damned fool," he said again softer, dropping his helmet, and hugging Ashlard. "Help me save Tel Atun... Help me save Ciray... I beg of you."

Rubbing his face, Ashlard stood up tall, watching the fear in the eyes of all the surrounding soldiers, "get up old man," he said quietly, "The men don't need to see you like this."

Standing beside Blain, Ashlard thought over the plan, "so you need me to destroy the siege engines?" he asked.

"Yes, the towers are the priority. We must protect the walls at all cost," said King Raynor.

"They won't fall for that stunt again," sighed Ashlard, "my wings are vulnerable to archers."

"We could ride out, a small number of cavalry," said Blain, "enough to distract the Archers."

"That's suicide," growled Ashlard, "What do you think Ciray wou-"

"Don't lecture me about Ciray, boy," Blain spat, "if this was all you could do for Runë, you'd die willingly... Don't you judge me."

Ashlard just stared, he knew exactly what Blain was talking about, he'd walk through hellfire itself for Runë... "Fine," Ashlard growled, "I'll meet you at the gate."

Ashlard stormed outside, he could make out the shapes of both women sitting on the edge of the balcony, they could probably see him in the morning sunlight. He would not forgive himself if something happened to Blain.

.....................................................

Runë was watching with anticipation that Ashlard would return soon, seeing him walk out of the war chamber, she even thought he'd looked up to check on her. She was disappointing he didn't come back to her. Blain exited the room, speaking briefly to a soldier, before walking down some stairs. She wasn't sure what was so important, she hoped it would be over quickly.

Ciray gasped, startling Runë, "they're opening the gate!" she cried, "What are they doing?"

Runë could see now, Blains green plume, as he climbed atop a horse. He was arguing with Ashlard, who finally must have given up and leapt into the air, but he still wasn't coming back. With a start she realised they were both going to fight. Tears welled up, before she remembered, when Ashlard would fight, he would fight harder to save her. That gave her an idea, grabbing Ciray, they ran for the stairs, if Ashlard wasn't himself when he returned, she'd help him.

.....................................................

Ashlard watched Blain charge out into the field, he was heading straight into a wall of spears and arrows. The first volley, hitting slightly behind Blain, Ashlard could do nothing as he watched a dozen men and beasts collapse... But he could try something else. Pulling into a steep dive, he swooped low over Blains helmet, before screeching and spraying flames into the first row of Knurlig spear-men. Snapping a sharp right, he continued streaming flames though a massive section of Knurligs, hearing with dread, their screams of agony.

Ashlard rose up, turning towards the first tower, slamming into it, he succeeded in breaking through onto an internal platform. Finding himself suddenly surrounded by Knurligs, Ashlard sprayed yet more flames, igniting the tower from the inside and climbing back out the way he came in, ignoring the agonising screams of dying men. He could see the cavalry break through the first layer of defences. Spurred on by Ashlard's success, he could see Blain hacking and slashing with his sword. Ashlard dropped, snapping his wings open he flapped hard until he was high out of range of the archers, before selecting his next tower. This one had metal spikes around it's base, creating a ring of space around it. This made it an easy target for Ashlard, who dropped into this space, and spraying flames under the tower, watching it catch alight from underneath. He quickly climbed the spikes, using them as a ladder. He dug his claws into the wood, climbing to the top of the tower. From here, he could hear more screams, men started throwing themselves from murder holes, before the top level opened it's drawbridge and Ashlard watched in sick amusement as over one hundred Knurligs through themselves to their death.

Whistling caught his attention, and diving from the tower, he narrowly missed a volley of arrows. Ashlard cursed himself for his foolishness, that would have been a stupid way to die. He quickly flew up high, out of range of the archers, before turning and angling himself towards the final tower. Setting himself alight, Ashlard dived, the sound of rushing wind blocked out everything, before smashing straight through the top layer of the tower, punching through two floors and bursting out from the side near the bottom, he pulled up sharply, spinning around, and watched as the tower crumbled and fell over.

Ashlard turned now, where was Blain and the other soldiers. Spotting them, they weren't faring well only four left fighting, their momentum had slowed to a crawl. They were completely surrounded, and even as Ashlard watched, two more men fell. Surging with energy, Ashlard tore through the air, flapping as hard as he could, before dropping head first into the fray.