Chapter 477: Siege Part 3 - An Orphan’s Courage

 

  The Cinder Brood tribe, the second Sylvan tribe of Hollow Shade, was composed of orphans from the streets of the Commoner District. Most had lost their parents while very young, others were teenagers. All had lost their homes, their families. They were treated as pariahs even among other commoners. There was some solace in the temples, where food and shelter were offered, but the poorly funded temples of the Commoner District had little to give and could only support a few children at a time.

  The orphans had been forced to grow up quickly, searching for scraps wherever they could. Many had been picked off by the undead sentinels roaming the streets at night. Others had been pressed into gangs, while the unluckiest had been captured and taken as slaves by thieves and poachers. 

  Orphans in Hollow Shade understood their lot in life. They understood the ugly truth of the city. Many people thought the city was the capital of the Ebon Realm’s commerce and the home of wealth and ancient magics, but the orphans knew this place was dangerous, every day they were fighting for their lives with no one to rely on, even each other.

  So it came as a surprise, when one particular old temple in the south-west side of the district, began to offer shelter for any orphan who needed it. It did not matter how old they were or how many came. The head priest Elm and his right-hand priestess Karen, welcomed them with open arms. 

  Dozens of bunk beds, clean blankets, and enough wood to feed the fires all night long. Various sorts of freshly bought food and warm meals, not just once, or even twice, but thrice a day. The children couldn’t remember the last time they had full bellies.

  The other temples couldn’t understand where all the funding was coming from, certainly not from the city, the lords only cared about the large and extravagant temples in the wealthier districts. They especially wouldn’t care about a temple situated in a heavily populated goblin and human neighborhood. Yet the temple’s funding only seemed to keep increasing as the months passed by.

  At first, the orphans were skeptical, surely there was some sort of trick. The temple must have had a nefarious plot, perhaps they were selling children to slavers without none the wiser?

  But as the days went on and the temple’s cook Witt kept bringing them food, the orphans slowly began to realize the truth. They weren’t going to be kicked out, they weren’t going to be tricked, no one was going to hurt them.

  Slowly, the orphans looked at each other and they did not see competitors for scraps. They saw in each other what few dared hope for, what many never believed possible, a family.

  It was on such a day, that an outsider had come to the temple, a woman who like many others, believed she had the right to trample over the orphans of the City of Shades. Melfyn, one of the eldest, had stood up in order to protect the younglings.

  And then like a hero from the stories he appeared, a goblin like none they had ever seen. Their secret benefactor. Stryg. A mysterious mage from lands far beyond the shade walls. He was not ashamed of them, he didn’t care if they were orphans, that they were the rabble of Hollow Shade, in his eyes they were worthy. And to them it meant everything.

  So as the wall collapsed to void flames in a blinding brilliance, as the armies of the valley marched towards their city, and as a dragonbane flew down at them, the Cinder Brood tribe did not cower or break formation. They raised their bows, notched their arrows, and drew their strings back.

  For the first time since Stryg had left and entrusted Melfyn with the safety of the temple, he felt worthy of his hero’s trust. 

  “FIRE!” Melfyn shouted.

  The tribe let loose and their arrows flew true. 20 odd arrows darted across the night sky and struck the dragonbane’s chest. The arrowheads glanced off its thick hide and the shafts snapped in two.

  Melfyn’s eyes widened in confusion and he stood frozen, uncertain of what to do.

  “Take cover!” Sandra screamed.

  Jack yanked Melfyn down and the others dropped to the ground.

  The wind itself shook as the dragonbane’s enormous body flew above them. Her long spiked tail swept through the battlements, catching dozens of soldiers in its attack. The spike impaled the soldiers’ armor with ease. The ones who weren’t impaled were struck with such force that their armor crumpled on impact and their innards were crushed.

  The world seemed to slow down as Melfyn watched the giant tail sweep past and catch two of his tribemates. For the briefest of moments they looked at him, panic in their eyes, and then they were gone in a flash of red. A splatter of blood on the magestone floor was all that remained.

  Fear gripped Melfyn and he felt his chest grow tight. The shouting all around him faded away. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. All he could see were the panic-stricken eyes of his two friends as they had looked at him, searching for an answer, for a way to overcome this. But there was nothing. They were gone. Dead. And soon he would be too—

  Sandra slapped him across the face, “Get a grip, Mel!”

  Melfyn blinked hard and shook his head. Stars decorated the edge of his vision. 

  “We need you, Mel!” Sandra cried out. There were tears in her reddened eyes. She was scared, she was in pain, but she hadn’t given up, not on him, not yet.

  Melfyn cursed himself silently for his weakness. He grabbed his spear as tightly as he could to mask his trembling. “...S-Shields!”

  His voice broke the others out of their fear and they quickly gathered their shields and huddled at the bottom edge of the battlements. Jack and the others raised their shields close to one another and formed a protective barrier.

  Melfyn glanced around, searching the skies for the monster. Captain Talia was shouting commands and rallying the remaining soldiers. 

  Bulwark Commander Stonehand stood atop the battlement’s merlons, blasting bolts of lighting at the dragonbane. Despite the beast’s elusive flight, each bolt struck true and seemed to push her back, but she suffered no visible injuries. The storm spells were like shallow waves, pushing one back, but never damaging.

  “Kids!” Captain Rorick Polamtal shouted as he ran up to the orphans.

  Melfyn recognized the drow, a friend of Stryg’s. He had vouched for them when they had applied to join the city’s defense.

  “Captain Polamtal?” muttered Melfyn.

  “What are you still doing here!?” Rorick yelled in bewilderment as soldiers ran past them.

  “W-We’re holding our ground…” said Melfyn.

  “Against what!? We can’t stop that thing!” Rorick pointed at the dragonbane, circling high above the battlements.

  “Commander Stonehand is fighting it, we have to help,” Melfyn said nervously.

  “Lord Stonehand is holding the beast off so that we can retreat! The wall has fallen! We can’t kill that monster!” said Rorik. 

  “But the soldiers, the mages, our weapons…” Melfyn glanced around the battlement uncertainly.

  The other soldiers were already falling back. Climbing down the ladders and scaffolding.

  “We need to retreat!” Rorik yelled.

  “He’s right, we can’t stay,” said Jack anxiously. 

  Sandra grabbed Melfyn’s arm, “We can’t let anyone else die.”

  Her words struck a chord within him, like a sharp note in the middle of a storm of endless sounds. Melfyn poked his head out from beneath the merlons and looked out at the armies of valley warriors marching toward them.

  “Melfyn! We need to run!” Sandra shouted.

  “...You’re right.” Melyfn slowly looked at her, “We can’t let anyone else die. If we leave now, there will be no one to defend the wall… The enemy will breach our city… how many of our little brothers and sisters will die then?”

  “If we stay, we won’t survive.” Sandra bit her trembling lip, “I don’t want to die.”

  He smiled sadly, “I won’t ask you to stay with me. Any of you.”

  “Mel…” she whispered in a broken voice.

  “Kid, don’t be stupid, we need to run now! The commander can’t hold that monster off forever!” said Rorik.

  “Gods dammit all!” Jack yelled and jumped to his feet.

  The others looked at the lanky teenage human uncertainly.

  “Jack…?” asked Melfyn.

  “I fucking hate that you’re an idiot sometimes,” Jack placed his hand over Melfyn’s shoulder. “But I hate it when you’re right even more. If your dumbass is set on dying like a hero, then my dumbass is dying with you.”

  Melfyn smiled gratefully, “Jack…”

  Sandra placed her hand over Jack’s own. “I won’t let you two idiots get yourselves killed. I made a promise to First Mother Karen. I’m staying.”

  “So am I,” said another.

  “Me too.”

  “For Cinderbrood!” cried two more.

  “What the bloody fuck is wrong with all of you!?” Rorick shook his head in disbelief. He glanced at Rowan, the only fellow drow among the teens, “Speak some sense into them!”

  “I follow my chieftain’s orders, not yours,” said Rowan resolutely.

  Rorick glanced at the ladders and the retreating soldiers and then back at the teens. He ran his hands through his grey hair and groaned loudly, “Argh, fuck! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!”

  “Captain Rorik?” Melfyn asked nervously.

  “Shut up, you fucking child! Argh, Stjerne damn you, I’m staying too— FUCK!” Rorick screamed.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!” Rorik snapped.

  Commander Stonehand’s storm magic waned and he stumbled back with a heavy breath. Captain Talia rushed to his side and held him up. The dragonbane roared angrily and swooped back in. Its spiked tail lashed out and destroyed the scaffolding and ladders. The retreating soldiers still climbing down screamed in terror and plummeted to their deaths.

  Stonehand poured his remaining mana into his hand and formed a javelin of crackling lightning. He pulled his arm back and hurled it at the monster. The dragonbane flinched as the bolt struck her shoulder, but she quickly shrugged it off and came in for another pass.

  Talia jumped in front of Stonehand, her small frame seeming that much more tiny in comparison to his own massive physique. Yet she held her shield up high and her sword at the ready.

  Talia screamed in defiance as the dragonbane swooped back down, but the beast flew over her, and its tail lashed out at the trebuchets, destroying both in one swing. Without even glancing at them, the dragonbane flew away, towards the next set of trebuchets on the wall.

  “It’s not after us… it’s destroying the wall’s defenses…” Melfyn muttered in realization. He turned back to the grasslands outside the city. Thousands of torches illuminated the grasslands in grim orange light.

  “They’ll reach the wall in a few minutes…” said Rorik.

  “Cinder Brood, gather your bows, we’ll take out as many as we can before they reach us,” said Melfyn with quiet resolve.

  His tribemates nodded and began notching their bows.

  “I fucking hate you,” Rorick muttered under his breath, but he grabbed his bow as well.

  Talia looked at the remaining soldiers scattered across their wall division. Half had already retreated down the wall, soon to regroup at the molten breach. She didn’t doubt that many other captains and commanders had ordered their soldiers to do the same, but as she looked out at the armies rushing toward the wall, she felt death slowly closing in on her.

  Their wall division had less than half their soldiers left. Without the ladders and scaffolding, there was no hope for reinforcements from the ground. Whatever soldiers on the wall the city had to spare would no doubt be rushing towards the western gate or molten breach.

  The heavy silence among her soldiers told her they had all realized the same truth. None of them would be seeing the sunrise again. Lord Stonehand began shouting orders, rallying whatever troops would listen, but few reacted right away. Whatever fiery strength was coursing through them had been doused when the dragonbanes had attacked.

  “Ready!” Melfyn’s voice broke through the silence.

  Talia looked up, confused. The teenagers of the Commoner District were all lined up at the merlons, bows at the ready.

  “Fire!” Melfyn shouted.

  The teenagers let loose their arrows into the oncoming army, then notched another set of arrows without hesitation.

  A small ember of pride stirred within Talia’s chest. For a moment she had forgotten why she had joined the city’s garrison. How could she have forgotten the whole reason she put on her armor and marched onto the wall?

  “For the people…” she mumbled. Talia grabbed her bow and strode up next to the teenagers.

  Melfyn glanced at her, a silent question on his lips.

  Talia inclined her head and awaited his word.

  Melfyn slowly nodded in understanding. “Archers… Fire!”