Ch8-2: The Storming of Fabul
The first warning alarm sounded over the battlements of Fabul, just on the edge of twilight. It was a strange sound, something like a vast, thundering gong that echoed and re-echoed through the square chambers. It was quickly followed by the sound of people scuffling – warriors, women, children… the passages were a procession of bodies flowing to destinations that had been pre-determined for times of trouble.
At first, Ben couldn’t figure out what all the noise was about. He had been leaning back in his chair in the guest quarters, the calm of the Fabulian evening almost peaceful enough to drop him into a doze. The meal they had been given, though King Yang apologized for it time and again, had been better than anything the Half Lunar had eaten since leaving Baron. Which was probably the reason he had overindulged himself just a little too much.
Another thing that’s rubbing off on me from these humans…
Ben groaned, setting the legs of his chair back down on the solid floor.
I knew I shouldn’t have eaten so much. But it was all so good.
Chase and Porom came scampering through his door. The boy bounded up on the bed with a worried look, panting and out of breath.
“Ben! Ben! I think we’re under attack!”
“Is that what that weird sound is?” the Half Lunar squinted at the two children with a frown.
“Yes, Master. It is the Fabulian battle warning,” Porom nodded, taking hold of his sleeve. “We must get ready for the attack.”
“Is it the Daear?”
“I don’t know.”
Ben gave a deep groan, pushing himself heavily to his feet, “Why couldn’t they have waited for a couple more hours before attacking?”
“You ate too much,” Chase observed drolly.
“Just a little,” the Master Wizard admitted.
“I tried to tell you during dinner.”
“I know,” Ben gave a sheepish look, throwing his cloak around his shoulders and pinning it at his throat. “I guess I need to work some of it off anyway.”
“Hey!” Edge’s sharp tone sliced the air as his head poked into the room through the doorway. “What the hell you doing? Get your big ass in gear, Golbez!”
“I’m coming,” Ben grimaced, slinging Onyx over his back.
“Not fast enough,” the Ninja taunted. “You gotta earn your keep around here sometime, you know?”
“I’m coming!” he fiddled with the straps of his sheath clasp, half grumbling towards the annoyance. Half ignoring the unusual feeling that was rising in his chest. There was a fluttering nervousness, a hesitant loathing… but what it was for or where it came from, he didn’t know. His hands slipped as he attempted to force the leather through the buckle, almost dropping the sheath right off his back.
What’s wrong with me?
His breath came in strange sounding gasps as the insides of his palms became wet and sticky. The echoes of the battle alarm pounded through the back of his skull, all of his senses alert and churning at the motion around him. Only when he took a step forward did he realize his knees were shaking, threatening to give way.
Fear…?
It wasn’t as if he had never felt fear before, of course. But in all the time that his mind could remember, he had never felt this way before facing a battle. Not even the battle within the core of the Red Moon, where he had been certain he would not emerge again to see the light of day.
He hadn’t been afraid to die when he faced the monster Zeromus.
So why am I afraid now?
“Master?” Porom asked, grasping his sleeve again gently. “Are you okay?”
“I…” Ben’s glance flickered up to the two children that watched him anxiously. Chase’s eyes reflected with a knowing light.
I can’t let them see me like that. The Dark Lord isn’t afraid of anything…
“I’m fine…” he finished slowly. But the words sounded strained and forced to his ears. No doubt they would hardly fool the children whom both seemed so keenly aware of what was going on inside of him.
“Then what’s the hold up!?” Edge demanded again, slapping his palm against the doorframe. “Cecil’s waiting on us!!”
“What about–”
“The kids should go take cover with the rest of the civilians,” the Ninja answered before the question was finished, “I’m sure they could use a White Mage in there.”
Porom didn’t look completely happy about being ordered around so brusquely. But she didn’t say a thing, simply bowed. Taking Chase’s hand she led the boy towards the doorway.
“Ben!” Chase pulled to a stop, giving a worried look over his shoulder. Golden eyes sank deep into his soul for a moment that felt like eternity.
“I’ll be alright… don’t worry about me!” the Half Lunar waved one hand towards the boy’s concern, hoping that maybe false confidence might spark something that felt real.
Chase swallowed, looking reluctant to leave as Porom began to pull at him more insistently.
“We have to go! Master Ben will be fine… but we won’t if we get stuck in the middle of battle,” she informed him.
“Okay…” the Page finally frowned, giving in. With one final glance, he followed the White Mage out the doorway, vanishing into the clamor of the hall.
“Weird kid,” Edge muttered, eyes squinting after them. Then with a shake of his head, he turned towards Ben, “Alright, Golbez. It’s move-it time. Think you can keep up with me?”
The Master Wizard grimaced, the heavy feeling of fear-churning dinner still in his midsection. But he nodded, fighting down the discomfort. Afterall, Dark Lords weren’t supposed to over eat, either. “Of course.”
“Good. Let’s do this,” there was a sharp twinkle in the Ninja’s eye, almost something akin to pleasure.
That’s gotta mean trouble…
Like the flicker of shadows, the young king was off, darting down the hallway in cloaked silence. Ben opened his mouth in protest, but quickly realized that he was only falling further behind while trying to speak logic into a brick wall. With a deep breath, the Master Wizard drew himself up and proceeded to race after the smaller man.
Even with one too many plates of dinner and fear wobbling his knees, he proved to be far more agile than his size gave him credit for. It didn’t take too long for him to finally catch the pace of the Ninja who darted a rather surprised look over one shoulder as the Half Lunar arrived.
“Not too shabby,” Edge snorted. “But you sound like an overworked airship engine. Can you be any louder?”
“I could try?” Ben huffed, green eyes spearing down at where the Ninja ran next to him.
With a short bound, the grey-haired man vanished, dropping over the edge of a flight of stairs that seemed to appear out of no where. Giving a startled sound, the Half Lunar skidded to a stop, peering cautiously over the edge to see what had become of his reckless companion.
“Edge…?” he panted, stooping over to look, “Edge… are you oka–”
“Come on!!” the Ninja’s irritated voice echoed from below. “I knew you’d never be able to keep up!”
With a grumble, Ben took to the stairs in the far more conventional way. He was met at the bottom by Edge’s smug look of superiority, which was promptly ignored.
“The bigger they are…?” the young king’s smirk grew wider.
“Over compensation…?” the wizard gave a slight grin of his own.
“Hey..! What’s that supposed to mean?” suddenly fuming, Edge’s voice inched up a notch.
“Hrmm…?” Ben gave a quiet smile in return.
But before the conversation could fall any further, Cecil burst into the hall with a scowl planted on his face. “You two are at it again? I should have known not to send Edge…”
“I got him here, didn’t I? It’s not my fault his lard arse is so slow!” the Ninja retorted.
Cecil gave them both a disapproving look.
Quickly, Ben changed the tune of the conversation, “What’s going on, Cecil? Is there an attack?”
“I’m not sure. Someone must have seen something for the alarm to go off,” the Paladin said grimly. “That’s what we need to find out. I’m heading to the look out and I want you with me, Golbez.”
“Me?” he blinked.
But the Paladin was already making his way double time down the corridor.
“Why?” Ben asked, following quickly.
“Because… you seem to have the ability to see things the rest of us can’t,” Cecil answered shortly.
“You think that’s a skill, Cecil… or just an after effect?” Edge smirked from behind.
“Edge, I’d appreciate if you’d leave the wisecracks at the door. This could be a real battle here.”
“Yeah… yeah… I know how you take your battles sooo seriously.”
Cecil didn’t reply. He simply led the three of them up a stern set of stairs that were built into a hollowed out area in one of the far towers. It was interesting to Ben to see how well the Paladin seemed to know the layout of the Fabulian castle. Never did the king break a stride as his cloak swept behind him in mounting haste.
A number of tan-skinned warriors lined the far passage, each giving a polite bow to their group as they passed by. If it was the very same men that Ben had seen dancing in the courtyard earlier today, it was hard to tell. For now they were pulling on the vestments of battle – thick hide jerkins, light-weight leather boots, padded trousers and metal bracers that drew out long bladed battle claws.
Ben shuddered as they finally broke from the stone fortress to the battlements. The sky stretched, looming above in growing darkness, the speckle of silent stars just beginning to break through. The wind was somehow colder as it snapped through their cloaks viciously. Far below, the warning gong still sounded, a distant vibration through the walls.
The Master Wizard’s steps grew heavy and wavering as they approached the outlook. A tan-skinned man took one glance at the group and nodded, motioning over the sloping grasslands that spread from the foot of the castle. He began to detail quickly to Cecil in a low voice, nothing that Ben could hear.
For his senses were fixed on the horizon where a seething line of taint and decay blotted the landscape. His eyes grew distant, sight beyond sight carrying him… and he knew. An army of Daear crowded the distant hillside, invisible within the shadows to the normal eye. And they had changed, altered… become something far more dangerous than they had been even back in Troia.
Where are they gathering such power? What is it that is driving them to so much corruption?
His knuckles grew white as he gripped at the stone of the battlement, a hissing breath escaping his lips. The battle would be far harder than what they had faced before… for somehow, he could sense, the Daear were growing in power.
But from what…?
“Golbez?”
He felt a light hand touch his own, the sound of his brother’s voice quiet in his ears. Something holy and pure within the face of all the decay. Ben started, blinking down.
Edge glanced over with a wrinkled brow, and with a grimace he nudged the Paladin. “Yo, Cecil. Your brother’s spazzing out on us again. You still think this is a good idea?”
But Cecil was leaning forward, intently, “What do you see, Golbez? There’s something there?”
Ben ran his tongue over his lips and nodded. “Daear… an army. They’re waiting there, lots of them. They feel weird, Cecil. And more powerful than they did before…”
“You gotta be joking me?” Edge’s eyes narrowed.
“I wish I was,” the Half Lunar shook his head.
The Fabulian warrior was watching their discussion from the other side of the battlement. In a heavily accented Common, he grinned, “Don’t worry, sire. Our warriors are well trained. Our numbers are strong. Our castle is built to withstand.”
Something dark and glimmering caught Ben’s senses as he peered past the Fabulian’s shoulder. It took a moment to separate it from the dark backdrop of the twilight sky and the phasing of the drifting cloudbanks. As the shape began to take form in his mind, he heard himself speak quietly, “I hope that it’s built to withstand that…”
“What?” Cecil twisted, trying to follow the line of his brother’s sight.
Just then, the cloud bottoms burst, spewing out hundreds of streaming shadows, diving towards the fortress from above. The descent was silent and graceful, leaving those below with a tingle of cold sweat and chills. Wide black wings blotched the sky-scape, signaling impending death. And upon the wings rode creatures caught between the realms of life and unlife, swathed in sickly cold-blue light.
“Dammit… they have air troops!?” Edge backed up a step, head craning to watch.
Only a moment later, the first of the black wings swooped down on the distant battlements. Ben felt something in his stomach lurch as the huge claws tore crimson streaks through the group of unsuspecting Fabulian warriors. Only dots against the stone background, bits and pieces of men dropped from the wall to splatter on the once-peaceful courtyard below. Already, the riders were dismounting, leaping from the backs of the black wings and swarming into the fortress from the clouds.
No..!
Shouts of alarm and the clamor of the alarm bell sounded brazen in Ben’s ears. A strange numbness had fallen over him. He found it impossible to tear his eyes away from the stream of red that trickled from the far wall. Perched atop was the shadow form of the black wing, trumpeting a tremendous battle call to the incoming creatures from above.
“Golbez!!”
Ben was jolted forward as his brother’s strong grasp took his arm, yanking him away from the battlements. Then he was running, stumbling along next to his companions. Retreating to the stairs as the shadow of a black wing streaked down on them from above.
“We have to set up defense at the Crystal Room!” Cecil’s voice was hoarse, fighting to be heard above the sound of battle that now ravaged the hall of the inner fortress.
Somewhere in the distance, the toll of the warning alarm was cut short. And it rang no more.