Part XCIII: Shifting Momentum
Date: Kapton 10th, 144 A.U.
“High Priest Jaine is now taking the stage,” the newscaster announced as the camera flashed to him. “The weights and expectations of many are now looming after Myrik’s strange disappearance which some who still cling to the faith in the Mothertree claim was her act. We now turn it over to our reports at their scene as they record Jaine’s remarks.”
“We are gathered here again at the request of the Mothertree,” Jaine said, beginning in a soft voice as Lord-Protector Freglak watched with narrow eyes at the television screen. “The Mothertree has spoken again, calling us to listen to her as she reveals her will through me. Your leaders have deserted you, having deserted her herself long ago. We fight a losing battle against the elves, lost already because our leaders have abandoned their faith in the Old Weapons. They have forsaken the weapons of old, and we will fall by their might. Do you hear the words of the Mothertree? No victory can be wrought with the Old Weapons.”
"We’re beating the elves!” someone from the crowd cried.
Jaine turned toward them. “Are we?” he whispered. “Are we? Behold, a battle rages this day. And I tell you the truth—a truth to those who came here looking for a sign, for some exciting miracle from the Mothertree. This is the word of the Mothertree for you, O sign-seekers. Beyond all expectations, our forces will lose their winning streak today. The battle that rages today will be a catastrophic defeat for our forces—the sign of the Mothertree that we are helpless without her. Hear the Word of the Mothertree!”
Lord Freglak leapt up. Was Jaine really so stupid so as to base his ambitions on a guess? Or did he know more than he should about this situation? A knot began to form in his stomach, and he raced for his phone.
The first onslaught of elves at their cliff was beaten back easily. Major Erklen looked with pride and their anti-aircraft weapons that had so beautifully beaten back the first wave of elven troops—and they hadn’t needed the dragon’s assistance! After Flindle had nearly lost control of it, Major Erklen had been trying to keep it back and unused as long as they didn’t need it to win. They couldn’t afford another setback.
His phone rang and he picked it up. “Yes?”
“Erklen? This is Lord-Protector Freglak!” the voice boomed in. “Listen—I need you to be absolutely prepared for the elves. High Priest Jaine has just predicted that the elves are going to launch an assault on you today and completely overwhelm you.”
“They just began it,” Erklen said, looking at the next wave of airships coming up from the desert. “But you needn’t listen to the prattling concerns of a deposed priest. He has no power anymore.”
“I’ve told you before about the so-called ‘miracles’ he has wrought,” Freglak said. “We can’t take any risks!”
"I’ll play it safe,” Major Erklen said. And after Freglak gave him one last warning, Major Erklen shut his phone. The missiles went out again, streaking toward the elven airships that again too easily failed to avoid them and were horribly shot down. The elves were complete fools—this would be an easy assault to put down. The third wave came up and Erklen nodded his head.
Suddenly, there was a roaring and Major Erklen turned to the side to see a whole battalion of airships coming from the side—in a part of the desert the elves had never set up camp before. A whole legion of elven reinforcements were behind them—how had this gone unnoticed?
“Unleash the Elder Dragon!” Major Erklen roared as he ran back from the front line. “The elves have got in reinforcements! All hands to the guns to repel the enemy!”
There was a roar, and the Elder Dragon burst up through the trees, Flindle on his back, as he watched Flindle guide it toward the approaching onslaught. Guns went off and Erklen watched as the elven forces fought back. The first two waves had been a feint, Erklen clearly saw—a chance to get them to waste their ammo. Now trying to avoid the missiles, the attackers quickly took out many of their missiles as the Elder Dragon kept back the other flank.
There was another roar from the Elder Dragon and Erklen narrowed his eyes as he watched them fight. Something was wrong. The Elder Dragon seemed a bit off—too unpredictable and seeming to go every which way, tossing and turning so as to escape. And then it broke.
Wheeling away from the aircraft it shot out hard towards their defenses, breathing fire as it decimated a whole squad of goblin gunners in an instant. With a yell Erklen sprinted away from the fire just in time to see the dragon wheel and snap its whole body, trying to dislodge Flindle, but failing. As the goblin aircraft came out, the Elder Dragon surged towards them, breaking them in pieces as the elves came in behind.
“Get control of the Elder Dragon!” Major Erklen roared into its walkie-talkie toward Flindle. “Take it down at all costs!”
The phone rang and Lord-Protector Freglak moved to grab it. It was Erklen.
“Yes?” Lord Freglak asked. “What do you have to report to me, Major?”
“The elves,” Major Erklen gasped out through it. “They got in reinforcements that we hadn’t noticed before, Freglak! We were completely unprepared for this assault! And the Elder Dragon got loose again!”
Lord Freglak’s heart chilled. “What are you saying, Erklen?”
“It was a rout—a bloody routing of our forces, Lord Freglak! We didn’t stand a chance against them. By the time Flindle regained control of the Elder Dragon, it was too late. We have been pushed back from the cliffs back to our previous line of defense in the forest. And from what we see, the elves just got a whole new load of reinforcements following after the battle. I completely failed to see it coming, Lord Freglak. I-”
Freglak shut the phone, cutting Erklen off and stared at the wall in numbness. They had been pushed back, fine. They could lose a battle every once in a while. But High Priest Jaine had been right. Beyond explanation, he had known what was going to happen.
And for the first time in his life, Freglak began to doubt his unbelief in the Mothertree.
Date: Kapton 10th, 144 A.U.
“High Priest Jaine is now taking the stage,” the newscaster announced as the camera flashed to him. “The weights and expectations of many are now looming after Myrik’s strange disappearance which some who still cling to the faith in the Mothertree claim was her act. We now turn it over to our reports at their scene as they record Jaine’s remarks.”
“We are gathered here again at the request of the Mothertree,” Jaine said, beginning in a soft voice as Lord-Protector Freglak watched with narrow eyes at the television screen. “The Mothertree has spoken again, calling us to listen to her as she reveals her will through me. Your leaders have deserted you, having deserted her herself long ago. We fight a losing battle against the elves, lost already because our leaders have abandoned their faith in the Old Weapons. They have forsaken the weapons of old, and we will fall by their might. Do you hear the words of the Mothertree? No victory can be wrought with the Old Weapons.”
"We’re beating the elves!” someone from the crowd cried.
Jaine turned toward them. “Are we?” he whispered. “Are we? Behold, a battle rages this day. And I tell you the truth—a truth to those who came here looking for a sign, for some exciting miracle from the Mothertree. This is the word of the Mothertree for you, O sign-seekers. Beyond all expectations, our forces will lose their winning streak today. The battle that rages today will be a catastrophic defeat for our forces—the sign of the Mothertree that we are helpless without her. Hear the Word of the Mothertree!”
Lord Freglak leapt up. Was Jaine really so stupid so as to base his ambitions on a guess? Or did he know more than he should about this situation? A knot began to form in his stomach, and he raced for his phone.
The first onslaught of elves at their cliff was beaten back easily. Major Erklen looked with pride and their anti-aircraft weapons that had so beautifully beaten back the first wave of elven troops—and they hadn’t needed the dragon’s assistance! After Flindle had nearly lost control of it, Major Erklen had been trying to keep it back and unused as long as they didn’t need it to win. They couldn’t afford another setback.
His phone rang and he picked it up. “Yes?”
“Erklen? This is Lord-Protector Freglak!” the voice boomed in. “Listen—I need you to be absolutely prepared for the elves. High Priest Jaine has just predicted that the elves are going to launch an assault on you today and completely overwhelm you.”
“They just began it,” Erklen said, looking at the next wave of airships coming up from the desert. “But you needn’t listen to the prattling concerns of a deposed priest. He has no power anymore.”
“I’ve told you before about the so-called ‘miracles’ he has wrought,” Freglak said. “We can’t take any risks!”
"I’ll play it safe,” Major Erklen said. And after Freglak gave him one last warning, Major Erklen shut his phone. The missiles went out again, streaking toward the elven airships that again too easily failed to avoid them and were horribly shot down. The elves were complete fools—this would be an easy assault to put down. The third wave came up and Erklen nodded his head.
Suddenly, there was a roaring and Major Erklen turned to the side to see a whole battalion of airships coming from the side—in a part of the desert the elves had never set up camp before. A whole legion of elven reinforcements were behind them—how had this gone unnoticed?
“Unleash the Elder Dragon!” Major Erklen roared as he ran back from the front line. “The elves have got in reinforcements! All hands to the guns to repel the enemy!”
There was a roar, and the Elder Dragon burst up through the trees, Flindle on his back, as he watched Flindle guide it toward the approaching onslaught. Guns went off and Erklen watched as the elven forces fought back. The first two waves had been a feint, Erklen clearly saw—a chance to get them to waste their ammo. Now trying to avoid the missiles, the attackers quickly took out many of their missiles as the Elder Dragon kept back the other flank.
There was another roar from the Elder Dragon and Erklen narrowed his eyes as he watched them fight. Something was wrong. The Elder Dragon seemed a bit off—too unpredictable and seeming to go every which way, tossing and turning so as to escape. And then it broke.
Wheeling away from the aircraft it shot out hard towards their defenses, breathing fire as it decimated a whole squad of goblin gunners in an instant. With a yell Erklen sprinted away from the fire just in time to see the dragon wheel and snap its whole body, trying to dislodge Flindle, but failing. As the goblin aircraft came out, the Elder Dragon surged towards them, breaking them in pieces as the elves came in behind.
“Get control of the Elder Dragon!” Major Erklen roared into its walkie-talkie toward Flindle. “Take it down at all costs!”
The phone rang and Lord-Protector Freglak moved to grab it. It was Erklen.
“Yes?” Lord Freglak asked. “What do you have to report to me, Major?”
“The elves,” Major Erklen gasped out through it. “They got in reinforcements that we hadn’t noticed before, Freglak! We were completely unprepared for this assault! And the Elder Dragon got loose again!”
Lord Freglak’s heart chilled. “What are you saying, Erklen?”
“It was a rout—a bloody routing of our forces, Lord Freglak! We didn’t stand a chance against them. By the time Flindle regained control of the Elder Dragon, it was too late. We have been pushed back from the cliffs back to our previous line of defense in the forest. And from what we see, the elves just got a whole new load of reinforcements following after the battle. I completely failed to see it coming, Lord Freglak. I-”
Freglak shut the phone, cutting Erklen off and stared at the wall in numbness. They had been pushed back, fine. They could lose a battle every once in a while. But High Priest Jaine had been right. Beyond explanation, he had known what was going to happen.
And for the first time in his life, Freglak began to doubt his unbelief in the Mothertree.
RSS Feed