anywhere near it. So, we made our way on foot for just under a week. We traveled across frozen marshes and through leafless woods, surviving off dry rations and melted ice. Our troop was attacked by bears, Trolls and Giants. On the second night, our sleep was interrupted by a pack of wild Werewolves that found us unprepared. Twelve of our men were killed in the skirmish.
By the time we’d made it to our position on the mountain, we were already going mad. Everything looked like an enemy: the weather, the wind, wild animals and even the prickled plants that scratched our ankles. The world was out to get us and we were ready to fight back.
The battle began almost by accident. We came over a ridge, and there they were. The enemies. Their faces were painted with mud and their long white hair was pulled back and tied with leather. They were already scattering; moving into hidden caves or under outcrops, as our archers fired arrows at their backs.
The arrows used by the Human Army were a wickedly effective invention. Not only pointed at the ends, their sides were cut like razor blades so they wouldn’t only stab, but slice, even as you tried to pull them out. The slivers of sharpened metal cut through the enemies like high-divers into a pool. Our foes wore no armor. Hell, they barely wore clothing; just enough to brace against the cold.
I charged forward, readying my sword, but the force was too overwhelming; not from the opposition, but the army that ran by my side. The strength of my allies was unstoppable, even with the exhaustion of the previous week. I couldn’t find a target. Wherever I turned, each body was already struck-through or fleeing from the wave of swinging steel. The jagged walls of the cliff hid secret passages that offered some chance of escape, but we were working too quickly. A dozen enemies almost made it into the cover of a tunnel before their backs erupted with arrows and spears.
I was carried forward by the momentum of the attack. Under rocky arches, between boulders and crystal ridges, there were already bodies bleeding into the snow. With screams and explosions echoing around me and dead enemies underfoot, I had my first taste of the disgust that would become my daily meal.
Our adversaries attempted to fight back but their spells took too long to summon. These were not trained Wizards. Their fingertips flickered with blue light but before they could conjure any power, one of my kind would cut them through. Only occasionally did a flame or beam of light come back in our direction. We probably lost a soldier or two but it made no difference to the flow of the fight.
My path was split in two directions by a sheer cliff that curved up over my head. To my left, soldiers were easily outnumbering a group of enemies. To my right, ten of my allies were passing under a ridge unopposed. I followed the second team around a corner, hoping we were running out of people to kill.
The passage opened up into a huge arena, carved from shining black rock. The floor and walls were layered with circular formations of stone, like huge granite lily-pads, stacked on top of each other, descending down to some kind of stage in the center.
If this room was a theater, then someone was making the most of their final performance. Standing center stage was a tall body shining with blue light.
The soldiers were almost on it, weapons raised and ready to strike. The figure flashed like it was full of lightning and, lost in the brightness, I tripped and landed on my knees. Still gripping my sword, my fists cracked against the rock floor, shaving the skin off my knuckles.
I blinked a few times, till I was able to bring my fellow soldiers back into focus. They’d stopped moving. Frozen like statues. Then, their bodies broke apart.
Pure energy swam between their armor, filled their flesh, and pulled the layers from their bodies like bark off a tree: metal, cloth, skin, meat and bone, falling to the floor in pieces.
The figure stood still. There was no weapon in its hand. Nothing at all. I have spent years searching my memories, but I don’t remember the color of its hair or the look in its eyes or any particularly remarkable thing about it. I got to my feet and for the first time since the invasion