On Astral Tides: From Humble Freelancer To Astral Emperor

“Push forwards! Hold the Lemures back!”

“The Ironguard is with us, we cannot… argh!”

“Mercy, I don’t want to die…”

“Die, foul demons, back to…”

“Mother…”

“Help me, it burns, it burns!”

Dozens, no, hundreds, thousands of voices were blending together in a howling tide of pleas, curses, shouted orders and cries of agony, yet they were almost drowned out by the screaming of the endless demon tide that was pouring through the plains, throwing themselves against the beleaguered defensive forces, trying to tear down the Astral fortresses that blocked their advance time and time again.

Under the blue skies above, that also glittered with glimmering rainbow stars, the Astral bleeding into the land, expanding the plains significantly, allowing ingress from the spiritual realms, two armies were clashing. And the mortal one was being forced back, step by painful step, each inch paid for by the deaths of thousands of the vile Lemures, the endless shock-troops of the demon horde that had been attacking these lands for generations.

I hate the Lemures most of all. Vile abominations. They were weak and compared to other demons were no threat individually, each Lemure perhaps only as strong as an average warrior. Even so, it was their hideous parody of humanity she hated, the endless, needless sacrifices they made to try and break the defenders. “Bloom, Frozen Flowers!” she declared, the ancestral energy of ice that had been concentrated within her bloodline for generations sparking to life. As her glorious golden-blonde hair blew behind her in the wind, a contrast to the white dress made from enchanted fabric she wore, she breathed out, her breath frosty despite the heat of the summer day.

Ice exploded in the packed ranks of the Lemures, their pale, fleshy bodies, often lacking armour and even weapons, began to freeze, great flowers of ice metres across bursting to life, sucking them in. Petals formed of delicate clear ice, which soon turned a vile shade of green, soaked with the blood of the numerous Lemures the petals cut apart with their razor-sharp, magically hardened edges.

“That’s it, keep up the assault!” a cry came from the mob of warriors fighting in the gaps in the walls of the once-mighty fort. Time and time again the demons had returned, and each time the fortress was besieged it suffered more and more damage. Even so, it still stood proud, extending through the Material into the Astral. Towers made of shining metal and glimmering crystal unleashed bursts of light, balls of fire and forks of lightning smashing into the horde, while more mundane weaponry, numerous banks of ballista, catapults and pots of boiling oil were discharged. Even so, it did little to stem the seemingly inexhaustible tide.

“No backwards step!” another voice roared, and Claira looked down to see a heavily armoured champion crashing through the packed ranks of the Lemures, massive halberd more than twice the height of an average person sweeping through the horde, sending bodies tumbling away. Davian, one of the Metalguard. Even so, he can’t hold alone…

Raising her hand, she unleashed a hail of icy javelins down on the foe, piercing dozens, then hundreds. Corpses burst apart, some disintegrating to ether, and the defenders desperately drew it in, trying to bolster their strengths as much as they could. On the battlements and towers, archers and those who had elemental talents were also pouring down firepower, and gradually the tide of Lemures slowed, before reversing, leaving behind a carpet of the dead. A cheer went up, but Claire knew it was premature.

The Lemures are just to drain our reserves, the demons care nothing for their pathetic shock troops. As if to illustrate her point, the next host was forming up, even as the more powerful demons made sport of killing many of the retreating Lemures, forcing them back into some semblance of order, ready for another charge. This wave was taller, bulkier humanoid creatures, with green skin and long, ape-like arms, and vaguely reptilian faces. Unlike the poorly armed Lemures, these were in armour, even if it was mostly ragged chain and leather, and they were equipped with long brutal maces, spears and axes.

But before that… Claira was no stranger to the war, so she was already forming a shimmering shield of ice in front of her and the archers and mages on the battlements around her. It was not a moment too soon, as from the distant shadows of the Astral, where the demons were marshalling, bright flashes could be seen, dark, sooty reds and oranges flaring to life, barely visible even with her incredible kinetic vision.

“Engage the barrier!” came the cry, and the presiding general, safe in the highest tower, must have done something, as the first impacts were stopped before the walls, the air shuddering, shimmering rainbow and silver sparks cascading downwards. It was a pretty sight, but a dreadful one too. The barrier has barely recharged since the last engagement. It won’t last long…

A second wave of projectiles struck, massive hunks of crudely hewn metal, shimmering with flames, bouncing off the barrier. One flew back, slamming through a straggling group of Lemures, crushing them to paste, but then the barrier failed. A chunk of battlements was carried off, stone and bodies scattered over a wide area, and a Defensive Emplacement shattered, energy boiling free. Her shield of ice was struck, and the air was filled with motes of ice, like a brief snowstorm. Still, she had no time to admire the sight, strengthening the wall and expanding it as far as she could, as more and more shells were launched by the distant artillery. The Emplacements tried to strike back, but other than a couple of them, they didn’t have the range, only able to take out some of the massing Lemures and Dregs.

This is… unpleasant. Her face twisted into a bitter grimace, her blood chilled and the crenelations around her freezing over, stone starting to crack, turning brittle. “Frozen Lotus!” At her cry, energy rushed from her once more, the deep lake of power she held within finally noticeably depleting. The incoming balls of metal were caught in overlapping petals of blue and pink ice, harder than steel. It was enough to knock them off course, and after several more volleys, the firing stopped, a great cry coming from the demon lines.

“Here they come…” she muttered, watching as the host of demons flooded forwards. Hair blowing behind her in the breeze, she raised her hand once more. “Bloom, Frozen Flowers!”

*********

“White Universe!” At her desperate cry, the world around her stopped. The spider-like assassin demons that had emerged from the shadows, wreaking havoc on the beleaguered defenders, cutting through archers and mages with their vicious multitude of bladed limbs, simply turned to frozen statues, as did a number of fleeing defenders. One tower nearby shattered, collapsing under its own frozen weight, and the battlements were also starting to splinter, ice spreading through the weakened stone like veins and arteries.

There was no choice. Sacrifices had to be made… Her most powerful ice attacks were not targeted, merely indiscriminate assaults, and there was no time to call upon anything more subtle. Telling herself that the allied troops who died would have been slaughtered by the assassin demons anyway, she turned her attention to the melee below. This was the fourth wave, and hopefully was the last. Lemures and Dregs were few and far between, most of the demons now noticeably stronger ones, and the vista below was one of Hell; fire, lighting, acid, poison and more constantly discharged, the screams of the demons merging into the cries of the dying and desperate calls to rally, to hold, to somehow push the enemies back.

Davian was still fighting there, his halberd continuing to reap a great toll of the enemy, but even as he fought, a mob of Barbarites, demons who looked like wizened, crazy old men, with wiry, filth-choked beards, moved in to engage him, cleaving down several noble defenders with their own spears, glaives and hooked polearms. Despite their unassuming looks, Barbarites were some of the fiercest common demons, and when their own blood was spilled they quickly went into a berserk frenzy. Still, Davian should be able to hold. Though I wish Demera was here. It would be reassuring to have her immovable presence. Immovable…

Winged demons were coming now, a flock of them blotting out the setting sun overhead. The moons were rising, the shimmering dark-light of the Astral that was seeping into the world illuminating the pack. Arrows and the Defensive Emplacements began to strike then down, and dozens of the small, gargoyle-like creatures started falling from the sky. In return they began launching vicious barbed bolts from their tails, as well as breathing down streams of toxic filth on the beleaguered defenders.

“Nothing too dangerous, fortunately…” Claira declared, sweat from her fierce exertion already frozen on her skin, shimmering like little stars. There seem to be no greater or true demons in this assault, so we are holding… her breath steamed out over the frozen battlements, and the air began to chill, a fog rising. The flying demons began to ice over, their wings freezing, and it was only moments before they began to plummet from the skies, to splatter on the battlements and ground below.

Her breath was coming fast now, her reserves of icy elemental energy starting to run dry, the bottomless frozen lake within her now more of a puddle. Even so, she could still fight. Down below, Davian was finishing off the last couple of Barbarites, their frenzied rage at their injuries making them easy prey. Even as the last one fell, cleaved in twain by a sweep of the massive halberd, Claira was searching for targets, ruby eyes gleaming. There. Ice bloomed, freezing several more spider-demon assassins that were creeping forwards, trying to scale the walls.

“Keep up the assault, the enemy is shattering!” Davian cried, and it was echoed by those around him. The general, up in his tower, had ordered signal flares, and as the glowing green balls of light soared into the skies, the time for a counterattack was here. Forcing her exhausted body to move, Claira sought her next target, using her dwindling power to slaughter any surviving demon that might pose a threat…

*********

“Sister, you came back!” Claira was nearly shoved off her feet by the sudden appearance of her younger sister, Adoria, who came flying up out of her chair, her pink hair trailing her as she threw herself at Claira. Catching her sister, she smiled, giving her a hug.

“Of course I came back. I have fought enough battles, have I not?”

“Yes, but I was still scared. If you were to get hurt, I don’t know what I would do!” Adoria pouted. “I am the one who is always left behind, while you and eldest sister are sent out to face the demons. If it was not for cousin Kiela, I might have gone mad from worry.”

Kiela, huh? Her gaze went to the quiet figure sitting in the chair, her pale skin offset by her raven-black long hair and black lace dress. Her blue eyes were quiet, contemplative, and she offered a brief smile before going back to the book she was reading. Some said she was not quite normal, her head addled, but Claira wasn’t so sure. After all, the darkness bloodline is a complicated one…

“Look, I am always careful on the battlefield. I will not end the same way as the bloodlines of fire and lightning.” She comforted her sister, who did not look reassured.

“But you said that the fortress would likely not survive another attack.” Adoria pouted. “So when you were called to battle again, I worried so much…”

True, I did say that. But… “The situation was in our favour. The enemies that attacked were merely the least and lesser demons. And we had support from the re-risen, and one of the Metalguard was there.”

“The re-risen…” her sister shuddered. Even Kiela flinched a little, as well she might. “Are… are they as frightening as the rumours say?”

“Hardly. Most of them are as normal as you or I.” Claira disagreed. “We and our allies, we do not use the soulless. The re-risen are different. And without them we would not have enough troops to weather the dreadful losses we take each battle.”

“I heard…” Kiela said suddenly, looking up from her book. “That sometimes they remember.”

Remember? Yes, I have seen it. Brief flickers of memory, or personality traits that are distinctly… human. “The tales of them becoming who they used to be are just myths. I have never seen that.” Claira disagreed gently, unwilling to talk about it. “And I have fought on the front lines enough now where the re-risen are deployed. Yes, some have strange traits and habits, but most of them are fresh, blank slates when they return.”

“So, not the dead coming back?” Adoria insisted, and Claira patted her head gently, starting to feel relaxed, the cold fury of the battle, the ice in her veins, starting to thaw. With a gentle smile she shook her head.

“No. The re-risen aren’t the dead. They are created shells, who quickly become their own person, as real as any of us. It is surely coincidence that they sometimes resemble those who perished.”

“I wonder, what do the Elements think of that? Is it not blasphemy?” Adoria voiced, uncertain.

“Hardly.” Claira shook her head in denial. “After all, just like the power of our elemental bloodlines, are not the Astral Fortresses and their devices, such as those that create the re-risen, their gifts? Why would they condemn us for using their providence to fend off the demons? No, if anything, it is the demons that should be condemned by the Elements.” She let out a bitter sigh. “Well, the re-risen aside, we triumphed, though the border fortress was ravaged again, Emplacements and other fortifications lost. But the demons bled, oh how they bled.”

“Tell me about it, sister. Please! I hate being left out! I am seventeen, I could be sent to the battlefield any day now. You were younger when you first took to the field!”

“Well, my gift is more offensive, and I am a prodigy.” Claira said.

“I would like… to hear as well.” Kiela slowly muttered, closing her book. “My mother doesn’t tell me… anything.”

“I guess it cannot hurt.” Claira agreed. Since it was a victory, no matter how bloody a one. Though things might have been different if greater or true demons were present, especially ones who control domains… “Well, I was positioned on the walls above the gate, where I could command the battlefield. My breath streamed cold, and as the enemy approached, a packed, endless horde of Lemures, I bloomed flowers of pink and blue ice. It was beautiful but deadly, and…”

*********

“Mother, sister, I have returned triumphant.” Claira said, after leaving her curious younger sister and cousin behind. “The border holds, though further ether will need to be deployed to patch up the walls and replace the destroyed Emplacements. We need some way to combat their artillery, it continues to take a heavy toll on us.”

“Welcome back, daughter.” Her mother said, her face an expressionless mask. Her older sister, Elenya, gave her a slight smile, her green eyes dull. Well, it is not like I do not understand her…

“So, we held. That is good news, and we sorely need it. As for resources… I doubt we can spare much. Ether is running low everywhere, and the demons continue their advance in other places, to brutal effect.”

At that there was a reaction, her sister flinching, which Adoria didn’t miss. “What happened? Is it our allied kingdoms?”

“No, not an ally.” Her mother said. Luckily the Chancellor wasn’t present today, for Claira found him terribly trying. To say nothing of his toad of a son. At least the Chancellor has served my mother and the country well, even if he is rather conservative. But his son… talent can make one rot, it seems…

“Then…?” she asked, only to receive a surprising response.

“The Noble Elves were attacked. A delegation they were sending us to request … well, demand… our allegiance, fostered by marriage. Your father was due to meet them to escort them here, to meet Elenya, but…”

“… but? Is father all right?” Claira said in a panic, quite unlike her usual cool exterior. Like her, father was often on the front lines, but his abilities were more in martial arts and command, so he was far more vulnerable.

“It is all right, Claira.” Elenya spoke up, an unreadable expression on her face, a gleam in her deep green eyes. “Your father came upon the aftermath. He returned safely, but had to depart for another front soon after, just before you returned.”

Oh, thank the Elements. Claira slapped her chest in relief. “So, the Noble Elves? They are all powerful warriors and elementalists, what happened?”

“A massacre. Perhaps while we were dealing with numerous weaker demon assaults on the Astral fortresses, a number of powerful demons crept though our lines, striking at where we were vulnerable.”

I see. It makes sense why there were only lesser demons in the attack I faced… “So, what happened?”

“Thirty Noble Elves dead, including two of the Elven Windmasters, including the grandson of Keldruin. A tragedy. Noble Elves are so few…” the Queen, her mother, shook her head sadly.

“But he was the candidate for you, Elenya. How … how do you feel?” I know she never met the Elf, but even so, there had been some correspondence between them, and at least he would be better than Barbro, even if we would have to give her up to the Elves in exchange for the bloodline’s continuation…

“It does not feel real yet, sister.” Elenya said calmly. “We exchanged letters but a fortnight ago, and now this… I find it hard to believe they went down easily though. Two Windmasters and a Watermaster, dead. Plus many fine warriors. A Noble Elf is worth a hundred of our soldiers…”

“It is worse than that. Keldruin was isolationist, wanting to wait this storm out, more fool him.” Her mother was angry. “But in the end by offering my precious daughter I was able to entice him out of his forests, and now this. Messengers are not even allowed past his borders now. The grief-maddened fool. By the time he sees fit to relent, everyone but the Elves will be gone, demon food, or worse.”

“I do not see what a few demons that evaded our fortresses could do.” Claira thought. “Unless… no, surely not. One of the four great demons? Or domain users?”

“It seems so. Elves are powerful, but with water and wind turned against them, their end was assured. Damn it all to the Elements!” she slammed her fist down on the armrest of her throne. “This is a disaster!”

“My Queen, calm yourself!” Elenya said, earning a displeased look as she went to check the hand of her mother. “Injuring yourself achieves nothing.”

“I told you to call me mother.” She protested, but Elenya shook her head, stubborn.

“No, now more than ever I must remain formal. After all, is not my betrothal cancelled? That means…”

My poor sister. No, I have no time to worry for her. My marriage will be soon. There are several candidates already from other allied kingdoms, I believe. What matters is…

“Domain users are the most hated of the demons. Why, a single Metal or Stone domain can cripple our armies. To think that they would have an Air domain and attack the Elves. It seems… rather too much of a coincidence?”

 “You are not alone in thinking that.” Her mother allowed Elenya to tend to her bleeding fist. “Keldruin’s last message practically screamed that we had betrayed him. What a fool. Who would work with the demons? There is no benefit in it. Even she would not be such a fool. And I would believe her capable of any evil. No. I suspect infiltrators.”

Infiltrators? Demons who can appear as one of us? That is… terrifying. Meeting the deep green eyes of her sister, she shuddered. If so, who can we trust? If even the person next to us could be a demon…