—— ❖ —— —— ❖ —— —— ❖ ——
Branches broke under panicked boots.
Manic footsteps reverberated through the forest littering Dawn's northern border.
Light fought through the canopy, barely sustaining itself in the suffocating dark.
Dirt sprayed, leaves crunched, branches snapped.
Yelling and screaming tore through the trees. Trembling soldiers ran in fear as thick bark fractured like twigs behind them.
Laughter boomed through the trees—low, choking, wrong. A group of scouts sprinted, dodging roots and mounds. Screams of both men and women cut short around them.
"GO! WE'RE ALMOST AT THE CLEARING!" the scout leader shouted.
Sunlight screamed through the southern treeline—salvation.
The soldiers burst into the open. Only a handful remained.
Ahead, lines of shields and banners gleamed on the golden field—the Dawn's front line.
Their reflection of the sunrise made them seem divine.
Their hope rekindled.
Salvation in sight.
Then came a whistle.
SHRREEEEE-KHHHH!
A heartbeat later, the forest erupted.
Trunks exploded into splinters; air turned to knives.
There wasn't even time for screams—only the gasp of death as the last scouts of Dawn breathed their last.
No survivors.
Only the wind remained, whispering through the stillness of what was left.
The ground shook. Trees fractured and toppled. Hundreds of steps thundered as the forest itself trembled.
The menacing host arrived unseen—announced only by the quaking of the earth.
Then silence.
Dawn soldiers shifted, hands trembling on shields as they held formation.
The wind died. Even the banners stilled—then horns split the air.
A roar of war tore through the forest line, shaking the ground and the men alike.
The air thickened—grease and fat carried on breath-like heat.
Then, along the treeline, the forest bulged and tore.
Gorgurs.
Vast, fat-bellied brutes clad in mismatched plates, towering two to three times the height of men. Skin cracked and mottled, sprouting shard growths along skulls, shoulders, and bellies.
Rusted cuirasses, wagon wheels strapped as shields, even whole doors bolted across their chests.
Tree trunks spiked with shards, wagon axles, bent halberds scavenged from caravans.
Hundreds of them—less a front line, more a stampede of destruction made incarnate—now within sight of the Dawn's shining wall.
…
—— ❖ —— —— ❖ —— —— ❖ ——
The Aurestral moved with a predator's grace—long torso, arched neck, hind legs built for the kill, its fan of quills scattering motes of gold. The mount's rider reined it in at the observation ridge.
The air thickened—pure aura concentration pressing against his skin.
A Paragon's Aura.
Essence danced through the air, reacting to the man's glimmering aura, rays of sunlight glistened where there was none.
A tall and broad-shouldered gilded knight stood watching the battlefield, clad in burnished armour traced with dawn motifs and gleaming gold, a long cloak woven with shardlight thread that shimmered at sunrise.
Beside him, planted in the ground was a massive spear, golden silk wrapped around it, fluttering in the breeze, its tip forged with magnificent metal that flared like the morning sun.
He was the Spear-Paragon of the Dawn Dynasty—the Lustrous Lance, one of the Four Knights of Dawn.
"Commander Eryndor!"
The knight adorning a radiant sun cloak unmounted.
"Scrap-Bellies have emerged towards the north," he conveyed, dropping to one knee.
The Paragon shifted, grabbing his spear. His vision never left the battlefield.
"Stand. General." His voice carried a wave of authority, as if it was ordering the essence itself through mere words.
"Yes, Commander. Heavy bolts pierce the ground across the treeline—their range stand behind their infantry."
The Commander's vision turned to the General beside him, his eyes carried a faint golden hue.
"Bring the Sunveil back. Mirror wall to the front." He said, in an overwhelmingly calm voice.
He glanced towards the sky. A black shape suddenly blocked the sun for a moment, cutting through the clouds.
"Our Drakes hold the sky," He turned back when more horns blared in the distance.
"Dawn Lancers?"
"Holding position on the western flanks, Commander!"
"Good. Gather your Suncloaks, General. Advance to the eastern front and reinforce the Sword Sister regiment, they protect the Light-Engine Auxilia. We cannot afford to lose it."
Metal clanged as gauntlet met breastplate, the General bowed low, showing his deep respect.
"Orders will be carried, Commander. We'll see it done." He said whilst leaping on top of his mount.
"In the name of his Radiance." He proceeded to ride outwards towards the front lines.
The Paragon stared off towards the eastern flanks.
Be safe Myra…
"...In the name of his Radiance."
…
"SUNVEIL! CLEAR PATH! SECOND LINE!"
"PHALANX! UP FRONT!"
Officers along the front rode up and down the lines of soldiers, conveying orders to their men.
Metal clinked. The Sunveil withdrew as heavy shields advanced.
THAUM.
The ground trembling as iron met earth.
THAUM. THAUM. THAUM. THAUM!
Tower shields drove deep into earth and rock, locking edge to edge—a bastion of steel and light.
A front line of Radiant Phalanxes.
"SHARDBOW COMPANY!" More orders came.
Hundreds of steps came rushing from behind.
Shields locked into formation.
Above them, bows rose.
Creak–creak–creak–creak!
A forest of strings drew back, the air trembling with a single held breath.
Shardbow units drew their shard tipped arrows, resting on the line of tower shields.
Across the field the mirror-bright wall shifted, shields locked as sunlight bled between them.
Stillness.
The forest itself shook.
Then it howled.
At first it sounded like flutes—a dozen thin notes cutting through the haze.
SHRREEEEE-KHHHH!
Then the pitch twisted.
VVREEEEET–VVREEEEET–VVREEEEET
Hundreds of bolts the size of men tore through the air.
Some even blocked the light of day itself, swallowing the shields reflections and the bravery of men.
"MAGEI'S—DOMES!" Archmagei's orders rolled down the line to their regiments.
Radiant Aegis.
A Light spell echoed behind front lines through many voices.
And once spoken, Essence triggered, dozens of half-dome barriers of concentrated light materialised in the air above the Dawnish soldiers.
Whistles of death grew louder as they plummeted down towards the Dawnish army.
Then Impact.
Hundreds of detonations sprawled across the barriers of light, bolts of scrap metal exploded on impact.
Light ignited the essence in the air, fireworks displays bloomed along the battle line.
But some managed to slip through the small gaps in-between, crashing into units of men and women.
Dawnish soldiers were sent flying from the shockwave of impact, ground ripped apart by bolts littering the lines. The unfortunate few too close were torn apart on impact.
Then the whistles of death ceased, a deep thunderous roar boomed across the battlefield.
Another horn of war, this time followed by war cries and shouts of the enemy.
A wave of thunder.
A stampede boomed.
Shockwaves sending vibrations miles.
The charge of Gorgurs began.
"SPEARS!"
The bastion sharpened into a wall of spears
The ground trembled, rocks shook, earth split. Hundreds of Scrap-Bellies Gorgurs were now visible. An avalanche of fat and devastation.
"LOOSE!"
The forest of strings all loosened in unison, air kicked up from thousands of arrows cutting into air.
The enemy fell, one by one, some blocked arrows, some absorbed their impact with fat and muscle, shrugging it off as if they were splinters.
Distance collapsed—thousands of metres became hundreds in mere moments.
A vacuum stole the sound—then came the white scream.
Monstrous met bravery.
A symphony erupted, drowning the battlefield in instruments of war.
—— ❖ —— —— ❖ —— —— ❖ ——
Earth, men and metal, screamed.
The stench of grease and cooked iron rolled over the line like a stampede of fat and scrap.
Shields split. Metal caved. A tower shield buckled—screams trapped inside.
A castle door, a Gorgur's shield, collapsed into the line, snapping wood and bone alike.
Spears splintered through flesh and fat—breaking, bursting, jamming into muscle.
Boulders swung like hammers, shattering mirrored shields; metal collapsed as its wielder broke.
The air howled.
A volley of light arrows hissed past; exploding with searing light, one lodged in fat, burned, and kept burning.
A Gorgur's charge burst through a man and his mirror shield both. Tusk, shards and metal alike shredded on impact.
Another used a soldier as a club; the club shrieked once before breaking.
A Unit Officer felled a Gorgur with a slice of its stomach, then turned to shout formation orders to his men.
A tree trunk hammer found him mid-word. The echo of his order carried longer than he did.
A Gorgur impaled on ten spears roared until its lungs collapsed, then still twitched against the wall of shields.
Another died biting, stabbing and grabbing, dragging three soldiers down with it.
Blood hit sunlight and turned gold before falling red again.
Their blood steamed—thick, black, and sweet like tar.
A soldier's hand kept clutching his banner long after the arm was gone.
"HOLD!"
The word cut through the chaos.
Shields re-aligned around corpses; formation sealed.
The light didn't waver, even when the men did.
Then the Light-Engine Auxilia fired from the high eastern hill.
An overwhelming molten ray of light cut through the battlefield, obliterating the charging Gorgurs.
Some burned, others melted where they stood.
The smoke hadn't cleared before more horns sounded.
A war horn ripped through the battlefield. Another, closer this time.
A Captain raised the horn for the Dawn Lancer charge.
Until his eyes widened.
A short note blasted out of the horn before a Gorgur's twin metal cleavers eviscerated him.
Then came the second charge. Fat, iron, and fury slamming into light.
But this time it was more metal and carnage as Chain-Gnashers and Maw-Fang Berserkers reinforced the second charge of Gorgurs.
Chain-Gnashers stormed in, metal chain flails exploded into the Dawn line, caving metal and bone.
Maw-Fang Berserkers enraged with twin cleavers—tearing through infantry units like a dual-wielding cyclone of frenzy.
"JAVELINS!"
Sunveil lines exploded out with a volley of javelins of exploding shards of light, detonating the second charge.
Through the smoke the eastern ridge flashed again—the Light-Engine fired.
Sections of the wall held, but some collapsed from the much heavier stampede.
The ground cracked apart.
Dust rippled across the western ridge as shapes thundered into view.
Gorgurs turned towards the incoming avalanche.
Dawnstriders.
Six-limbed beasts carrying armoured riders stormed from the west—an avalanche of light and muscle that crashed through the haze like a living wave.
The western flanks exploded with their charge.
From above, the field bent in two halves of motion—Dawn pressing from the west, the Gorgurs flank collapsing. But still charging through the centre lines.
Scattered formation lines folded under the momentum of the beasts.
Enemy reserves shifted toward the centre, dragging their bulk to reinforce the line, but every movement left their edges exposed.
The Dawn Lancers drove through those gaps, isolating pockets of resistance.
They ripped and sliced into the enemy by both mount and rider.
Multiple Dawn Lancers pinned down Gorgur's whilst fangs and claws cut into flesh.
Their western flank started to crumble.
To the east, columns of smoke marked where the Light-Engine strike had burned through the second wave.
A moment later, explosions of wailing roars filled the sky as wings carved through the air.
Golden Drakes and their riders dived, hammering the eastern flank.
Claws sliced through fat like butter; maws of razored teeth clamped down, tossing its prey aside like toys.
Within moments, the battlefield had changed shape entirely, a crescent of golden light pressing inward against a dark, fragmented mass.
The horde was slowly breaking; their flanks crumbling, their centre overcompensating.
Strategic maneuvers quickly turned the battle against the tide of destruction.
Hammer and anvil.
—— ❖ —— —— ❖ —— —— ❖ ——
Radiant Aegis
Tier 2 — School of Light
Description:
A defensive manifestation of Luminary Essence forming a radiant dome around the caster or chosen allies. The barrier refracts incoming force and elemental strikes, dispersing energy into harmless light. Often used in formation combat to protect squads during heavy bombardment or essence surges.
Essence Principle:
Luminary Essence reflects what it touches. When harmonised through steady Vitalis, it remembers the shape of protection — the curvature of safety. The dome's strength depends on rhythm and purity of flow; uneven pulses fracture the field.
Practitioner's Note:
Do not force the shield into being — invite it. Vitalis must spiral outward and meet itself at the edges. A calm core yields a stronger shell. Panic shatters light faster than pressure.
Maxim:
"Light defends best when the heart within it is still."