Published at 9th of September 2025 12:40 pm

Book 5: Chapter 32 Clash [Part 1]

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“Anger is not an enemy to be driven away; it is a wounded spirit within you, a child crying out for your gentle embrace. Do not battle this anger, for when you fight yourself, you divide your own strength. Instead, cradle your anger with the soft hand of mindfulness and let the clarity of understanding soothe its cries. In this way, your anger shall be reborn—refined into a razor’s edge of clarity and focus, sharper than any blade forged by mortal hands.”

- The Fivefold Path by Master Huanjien Lan of the Land of Streams 143 A.C.

The armies of Mer and elf held fast across the plains for two uneasy days, neither host daring an all-out advance. The elves no doubt were still reeling from the blows I had dealt to their command. Their great eagles with their filthy riders hung at the very edge of range of Al-Lazar’s siege engines and the half-mad Anemancers in the employ of the city who commanded the winds. At last, the enemy alliance sent out two separate columns to encircle the city, determined to seal off any overland succor and bring Al-Lazar under a true siege.

Farzan and I agreed that we could not permit our foes to cast their noose about the city’s neck. Though Al-Lazar’s had food stores enough to feed its citizens for weeks or months, resentment already simmered behind its walls at the new government that had taken power. Hungry bellies breed treachery as surely as any sword; in such times, the starving citizenry were as dangerous as the would-be conquerors that were starving behind them.

In council, the Minister of War declared we must protect the city’s northern flank at all costs, harry or halt the encircling prong, and keep open the path upon which fresh sustenance flowed into the city. The Green Road that flowed now perpetually with freshwater had turned the desert to the north of the city into a fertile strip of land that cut through the Whispering Wastes like a straight spear.

Thus, we made ready a swift contingent of cavalry and foot, meant to strike and withdraw, gnawing at the enemy’s strength with quick raids. Alongside us would come a handful of Wind Mages whose spells could harass the eagles above or tear the feathers from a rider’s wings if the wind blew in our favor. Two Gryphon scouts would serve as our swift eyes and messengers, skimming the sky for sign of ambush. We meant to make a brave show of it, if only to remind these invaders that Al-Lazar did not cower behind its walls.

Yet I could not help but shudder at the sight of the monstrous Gryphons and the slender figures perched upon them—children, chosen because they were lighter and taxed the endurance of the beasts less.

I turned to Elwin, a wiry man with empty, haunted eyes, and asked, “Tell me, do you find it barbaric that they use such innocents in the place of grown men?”

He only parted his lips and stared, bereft of words. Perhaps he had seen worse in his time—most of us had.

“I am coming with you, Gil,” came a bright voice that cut through my thoughts. Larynda stood beside me, her jaw set with determination. Concern flickered in her eyes. “Are you well? A moment ago, you seemed to be muttering to yourself. One of your spells again? Or is it something that old people do?”

I hesitated, struggling to orient myself in the here and now. “I was only remembering…an old friend,” I said softly. “You were to stay behind.”

“I see,” she replied. “Well, I’m coming all the same.”

I managed a nod, my voice hollow. “Very well,” I said at last. “You’ll ride with me.” I gestured toward the waiting Xaruar, a six-legged lizard nearly the size of a small house, with a wooden howdah strapped across its armored back. The beast let out a deep-throated bellow, as if to greet her. “And with them.”

Seated atop the fighting platform were two Wind Mages, a man and a woman, both robed in the pale blue of the open sky. Their dark brown hair stuck out in wild tangles, and their eyes roved across the horizon as if they glimpsed something beyond mortal sight. Their lips moved ceaselessly, whispering secrets only the Wind knew. Yet they paused long enough to offer us wry smiles—friendly but laced with the glimmer of madness.

These two walked the same path Zariyah once did, drawn to the high, howling power of Wind and storm, but far, far from its end. They had yet to be consumed by it.

“I’ll be all right,” Larynda said, her bright tone firm despite the unease writ across her face. Perhaps we all lied to ourselves in that moment. But I knew that conflict does not wait on caution or comfort, and the day’s blood would be spilled regardless. We marched out under that cruel sky, with me as the only eager person looking forward to the fighting.

***

“Remember your roles,” I told the wild-eyed Anemancers I had just finished persuading to sit still, their mannerisms annoying in the extreme.

“We hear you,” the man answered. “My name is Nadim…”

“And I am Saba,” added the other, in a voice laden with riddles. “We share the same mother, though born at different times.”

“You’re brother and sister, then?” I snorted.

“And you…” Nadim’s eyes flickered with fevered intensity. “You are the black wind, death itself, yet beloved of the Storm.”

“I’ve been called worse,” I replied, dismissing his words with a shrug. “Your task is to keep us safe from aerial attacks. Keep anything from the sky off our backs.”

“We sense…” Saba began, but I cut her off.

“Do your job,” I snapped. “Focus. If you fail, I’ll skewer the two of you and bury you in the blackest pit I can find—where not even a whisper of wind will ever reach you.”

They hissed in fear at the threat, and Larynda quickly spoke up, hoping to defuse the tension. “Don’t mind Gil,” she said with a bright smile. “He just has a…particular way of talking. I believe he means that we each have an important role to play.”

“It isn’t that…” Saba’s voice trembled. “There’s someone among the enemy who also hears the Wind. We may not be enough…”

“Disclaimers? Already making excuses?” I half-shouted, annoyance rising hot in my throat. “The city’s fate hangs in the balance, and all I hear is whining.” Why must I always suffer incompetent fools?

“Just do your best,” Larynda said kindly, translating my angry words into something more palatable.

It would only serve to get my blood up to engage with the pair further, so I held my peace.

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