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by Scotty
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1044006
A story about a fight for Humanity, Good and Evil.
Garryk Sigers stared out into the eery, fog filled forest. Nothing could be heard or seen, but he knew they were there. He watched intently, bow in hand, his fingers twitched, tensed to spring for an arrow at any given moment. Then he heard it, the distant sound of hooves, the soft dirt made it harder to hear, but he knew what it was. His fingers shot to an arrow, ripping it from it's quiver, the heavy shaft clacking against the bow handle. He tensed the string, watching, waiting. A rider emerged from the fog, he couldn't see it well but he knew it was a Dark Commander, riding a black, rotting horse. Soon after an army of Minions emerged, following their master.

This was his second Term in the Legion, he hadn't been involved in many battles, but his mentors were some of the best. By the time he'd entered his first war he knew what he was doing, he knew every sound, what it was associated with, and what it was doing at the time. To most, this battle seemed like a mere skirmish compared to those some had seen. But they were wrong. Little did they know that all across the region the forces of Darkness were attacking ever fortress, every major city, determined to bring the human race to it's knees.

He watched as the thousand Minions in front of him stopped just outside the tree line. He knew there were at least five thousand more hidden within the fog, waiting for their chance to spring. And he'd be ready. Time seemed to slow, the seconds seeming endless as they waited. He checked the tension on his bow, it was taught. Then, with an ear piercing shriek, the army charged. Bows were drawn, Foot Soldiers and Knights waited anxiously for their moment. Fire, the word rang through the air, followed by the deep twangs of bow strings released. The dark cloud of Arrows rose from the fortress like a swarm of Locusts, raining down on the army as it charged, each arrow striking it's desired targets. Their waiting for us to let our guard down - He thought as he drew another arrow. Suddenly, he heard an all too familiar sound. Rising from the forest was the sound of metallic clinking, with slight pauses. Incoming - The word ripped through his lungs as he watched glowing balls of fire rise from deep within the forest. He watched in awe as the rest of the army charged from the forest at the same time. He stood silent, his mind racing with questions on what to do now. Should he sacrifice the fortress for the lives of his men, or risk it and continue firing? Fire - The words rang. His eyes were a blur as he watched his own arrows fly, watched his targets fall, watched the balls of flame grow ever closer.

Thunderous explosions ripped through the air as several fireballs collided with the stone walls, others soared over the walls, into the center of the fortress with loud roars. Soon the walls were breached, the Army already preparing to enter. He looked back, into the center of the fortress, at the bodies scattered across the courtyard. Without a second thought he raced down the long stairs, into the courtyard. Knights - He screamed. His eyes raced, searching for any sign of life, hope. Then he saw it. Out from the rubble emerged his own army, an army clad in the armor of Heaven, the Gold and Silver glinting in the sunlight. He pulled his shield from his back, ripping his Bastard Sword from it's sheath, turning to the Army of Darkness as it crawled it's way through the breaches in the walls. For Heaven, For Humanity, Fight!!! - He cried as he sprang. His men followed with a cry, swords raised in preparation.

Soon the two armies collided. He mustered every bit of strength he had, using sword and shield as he pushed, cut, and stabbed his way into the army. Screams and Battle Cries filled the air as the armies fought, metallic clangs and rings erupted as blade met blade. They fought hard, each army determined to reach it's goals one way or another. Blood, dust, and sparks rose from nowhere. Screams rose as men fell, viscious cries of hate erupting from the Minions. Their leader had fallen moments ago, yet they raged on.

The armies fought on for three more days before the Legion of Heaven was able to drive the Forces of Darkness back into the forest. The fortress lay in ruins, what were once gray stones now lay dark red with blood. The Legion was nearly lost, five hundred men remained of the two thousand. The war raged on for a year before the Army of Darkness was destroyed, three of the six cities were lost, and six of the ten fortresses were destroyed. But the Human race lives on, ever prepared for another war between Good, and Evil.
© Copyright 2005 Scotty (reaper3354 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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