The adviser replied, “Yes. We have seven hundred fiftyeight able fighters. The preparations for our assault are complete. Just give the order.”
The small army of Guardians lined up in formation, standing at attention before Beld as he inspected them with scrutiny.
Pacing back and forth, Beld shouted, “I’m sure you all understand why we have come here. In the past we protected the humans and cared for them. But now they have betrayed us. Set aside all hesitation—kill without mercy. We will not let this unnatural, unholy existence run rampant through the galaxy. Before this gets out of hand, we will put an end to their recklessness.”
Beld then told Alksorn, his trumpeter, “Blow the first trumpet.”
Alksorn nodded in reply. Being a Guardian of wind, Alksorn filled up his chest with a burst of air; putting the trumpet to his lips, he blew on the trumpet with such force that the entire world could hear its echo. That was the signal for the first phase to begin.
Like a raging meteor shower, the Guardians fell toward the planet’s atmosphere. The aura from their unified spirits illuminated the blue sky, causing smooth turquoise waves of light to scatter and signal their presence to the planet. The Guardians, while in midair, began the transformation of their bodies. These new bodies came in all varied shapes and sizes. Some resembled the proud beasts of nature: lions, sharks, rays, hawks, bulls, elephants, and bears—just to name a few. Others took the form of colossal humanoid giants surrounded by elements of earth, wind, water, fire and lightning.
They assembled themselves far from the eyes of the capital. After all of them were accounted for, they were divided into three smaller groups. One group took to the sky and veiled themselves with the clouds; another group submerged itself deep under the depths of the ocean; yet another group dug into the earth and were covered by blankets of dirt and vegetation. They positioned themselves close to the city and waited for the order.
Beld did not join them. He remained far above the sky. When he saw that the Guardians were in position, he shouted in a loud voice, “DESTROY THEM!”
Alksorn sounded the trumpet of war again.
All the Guardians—whether they were in the sky, earth or water—let out a massive battle cry that rattled the planet to its already shaken core.
Windzer reached the top of a castle turret and gazed into the distance. “Seems like it has finally begun,” he muttered, as heavy winds beat the walls continually.
Peals of thunder sounded out in rapid intervals. Clouds unfolded overhead, laying the entire land with a thick coat of darkness. The seas stirred and waves crashed into the shoreline so hard that the rocky cliffs crumbled. Tremors in the earth traveled along the ground and, as it approached the city, the outer walls began shearing apart; it was being ripped to pieces like sheets of paper.
Windzer waited, taking in all the ominous sights and sounds of nature. “I can feel goose bumps rising on my skin and shivers running down my spine.” He glanced over his shoulder and shouted to the citizens below, “Everyone—to your positions! Do not come out until I say so!”
The city had underground shelters for dangerous situations such as these. The shelters were hollow chambers that were several hundred feet deep. There was enough room in the shelters to fit everyone in the city without crowding. The city itself, with its shops and residences, had been built as a shield to cover over these shelters as the first layer of a near impenetrable defense.
After everyone had crawled into the underground shelters as ordered, an eerie silence swept over their fair town. It was dead quiet. People huddled together in their dark asylums, wondering what was happening.
The silence did not last for long. Shortly after, large bolts of fire and lightning came raining down. The rapid artillery from the clouds set the city ablaze in a sea of fire. No cries or screams could be heard as the city was pummeled over and over again. The flames rose up past the highest walls, licking up all of the food, water and wood till there was nothing left but stone and metal. When the barrage had stopped, the smoldering dust and ashes dispersed.
Next, a large shadow was cast upon the sea. A tidal wave, nearly two miles high, walked along the surface of the water, towering over the city.
While the wave was getting closer to Duraskull, Windzer faced the sea and said, “They intend to drown the city!” Then he raised his scythe and slammed it against the ground. “Come forth, Galokys! I command you to rise!”
The waves stirred around a newly formed whirlpool. A giant sea serpent stuck its head up out of the agitated waves. The sea serpent had the head of a crocodile but the body of a stout eel. Its long jaws, full of jagged teeth, were large enough to snap up fifty grown men in one bite.
Windzer said to it, “Galokys! Stop the tidal wave from reaching the city!”
The sea serpent bowed once and made a low clicking sound from its jaw. Then it turned to the oncoming tidal wave and whipped its long tail-like body to unleash a wave of its own. The two gargantuan waves collided with incredible force, causing a massive wake, but the overpowering wave from the sea still managed to weakly creep its way into the city, leaving it drenched from a short drizzle.
Dripping wet, Rendall climbed up the wall to meet with Windzer.
“How’s the situation?” he asked him.
“Looks like we are in luck,” said Windzer.
“How so?”
“The fiery barrage on the city and the tidal wave coming from the ocean, they were both very weak.”
Rendall could not keep calm. “Those devastating attacks are considered weak?”
“Relatively speaking,” said Windzer. “Those attacks should be based on the combined force of several hundred Guardians. For several hundred Guardians that is considered weak. They must be of a late generation.”
“What? I don’t understand what you mean by late generation. What are you talking about?”
“The Guardians are spirit beings,” Windzer explained. “So naturally, the process in which they were created is different from humans. According to legend, in the beginning there was only one Guardian that was created. They thought it would be best to create a natural hierarchy to maintain order and delegate power. The first Guardian is the strongest of the Guardians and is considered the 1st generation. Then he gave ‘birth’ to the 2nd generation; that generation gave ‘birth’ to the 3rd generation, so on and so forth. The final and weakest order of Guardians is the 77th generation.”
Intrigued by the legend, Rendall asked, “So we are dealing with the 77th generation?”
Windzer said, “Maybe. Most of the lower generations are all weaker so we can be dealing with anything around the 77th.”
“So because of this ‘late generation’ thing, we have a chance to win the battle?”
“A chance?” Windzer said, “I’d say so. If everything goes well, they’ll tire themselves out before any real harm is done. Then, when they come, we should be able to overpower them.” Windzer mused over the sight of the sky. It was starting to clear up. “They’ve been quiet for a while. They might invade now. Tell everyone to get ready.”
Rendall nodded and ordered several of his officers to alert the people. The officers ran across the ruins of the city, shouting, “Get ready, everyone! Come out for battle!”
Windzer continued to watch the sky but felt that something wasn’t right. This period of silence was too long and drawn out. It was taking much longer than he expected. In a scenario where the enemy is concentrated in a small area with no escape, a heavy bombardment and rapid invasion was their standard tactic. But several minutes had already gone by; if they wanted to use the element of panic and confusion, the time had already passed. What could they be up to?
Suddenly, the dark clouds overhead began to swirl in a spiral. The thunderclaps were louder than ever and, every time it boomed, Windzer thought his bones would be crushed from the waves of sound. Though the stormy clouds withheld the sunlight from shining on the city, the relentless bolts of lightning filled the area with an eye-opening brilliant blue. This sudden change in the temper of nature made Windzer nervous.
A hole opened up in the center of the clouds, forming the eye of the storm; but the strange thing was that it had, quite literally, the shape and form of a human eyeball. This massive red eye that spanned thirty miles in diameter appeared from above and looked down upon the city in disgust and anger. It scanned the city for any survivors and immediately its attention was drawn to the people who started leaving the shelters.
Windzer was stunned when he saw the eye. His lips quivering, he exclaimed, “The Eye of Beld! This is bad…” Realizing his error in judgment and horrible miscalculation, he shouted at the top of his lungs, “GET BACK INSIDE! DON’T COME OUT!”
“What is that thing?” uttered Rendall, gaping at it.
Windzer grabbed Rendall by the collar. “Tell everyone to get back inside!”
“But I thought you said—”
“It doesn’t matter! TELL EVERYONE TO GET INSIDE NOW!”
It was too late. Several hundred people had already come up to the surface, and most did not hear anything that Windzer was saying because the thunder was too loud. With no time left to spare, Windzer dragged Rendall deep into the nearest shelter. The shelter had several floors. He rushed to the lowest floor and fell flat on his face, forcefully making Rendall do the same.
From the pupil of the giant eye came a burst of stunning red light, which shone onto the capital. Then a blue light emerged from the pupil and merged with the existing red light. It ignited into a blazing inferno that wrapped the city and the forests around it in flames hot enough to melt stone. The walls, towers, and buildings of the city crumbled and were melted into the ground.
Windzer screamed a harsh cry as the violent tremors came from above, rattling the shelter. He screamed, not out of fear, but because he knew that those on the surface would not survive.
Indeed, the people above who had returned to the surface were incinerated into ash right on the spot. In seconds, their bodies became tiny particles that dissolved into the air. But that was not all. The tremendous beam of scorching flames was eating up all of the oxygen surrounding the city; powerful vacuums caused by drops in pressure sucked people right out of the shelters, dragging them into the vaporizing flames of destruction.
The eye of Beld laid waste to the entire city, leaving it in shambles and ruins; only the castle remained steadfast and relatively intact.
Windzer crawled out of the shelter on his hands and feet, only to find a mood of hopelessness and despair pervading the remains of the city. Aside from the castle, no stone remained on top of another. The capital had been painted with black and red. Sounds of weeping and wailing permeated out the entrances of the shelters. Hundreds had perished.
CHAPTER 27 Close Call