A fantasy story I am writing: Aaron (prologue)

-//- Prologue: Agathon -//-

You stay alive, as long as you run, do not look back, they cover the sun.
Hundreds of you, running amok, leapfrogging as much as they can.
The offspring of you, rushing the dock, jumping on boats is the plan.
Disputes forgotten, enemies pardoned, collectively trying to escape.
A dreadful danger, cannot be avoided, approaches like a dark drape.
-Unnamed bard-

The northern fog swept the land, turning everything in its path to cinder and smoke. Countless growls were heard, coming from the undefined anthropomorphic silhouettes lurking in the mist. The resulting cloud of death marked the claimed territory; a horrifying flag, soaring over the evening sky, threatening the very heavens themselves.

What was this mass? Nobody knew. Ghosts, demons, or angels of vengeance? It was a veil nobody would dare to look under, for its face was that of a swift death, certain to befall those who tried. Away with the truth; fleeing is the true option and hoping the mist, with everything that lurked in it, would stop its expansion. Everybody south of the expanding dread rushed towards the central lagoon, aiming to get on a ship and start a new life on the other side. All based on the assumption that the fog couldn’t hover over the sea, or would at least be carried away by the western winds; if the gods willed it.

Religions were the bastion of hope with a representative god for every gust and breeze imaginable. Even those who were not firm believers or had neglected to pay their respects to their deities, now desperately looked-for mercy anywhere they could. It had become a common occurrence to see once disbelievers joining in one of the countless orisons and offerings that were being performed around improvised altars, all day long. Whether it was about the divinity of the surrounding mountains or the distant skies, their priests had all reached the heights of glory only legendary heroes had earned in the past.

Delegating with unseen forces for the promise of salvation became vital, for divine interventions were rare. So rare that nobody was sure if the gods would bother to appear in front of them and stop this horror.

“After all, if they truly cared about this new crisis, they would have dealt with it the moment it appeared” as some naysayers would claim.

“Perhaps the gods were displeased with their believers” others would counter, “and that this disaster was their punishment.”

“Maybe” as some ardent disbelievers would claim “the gods didn’t exist at all, and expecting a miracle was the height of folly.”

Whatever the case was, mortals couldn’t stay idle; the gods save those who save themselves, as they say. Even if it was a fruitless endeavor, everybody agreed that it at least helped to maintain order in this darkest hour. Without something to hold on, man would turn to savagery every time a new threat appeared. Despite their disagreements, all parties accepted faith as a vital element of every society.

Preparations were progressing smoothly, and they were half-done loading the provisions in the ships’ holds. It was then that the fog was spotted by scouts on the horizon. Panic erupted in the ranks of the vanguard, and quickly spread like wildfire throughout the makeshift refugee camp. So much for the aforementioned order through faith; the altars were trampled, and the offerings looted, as everybody was yelling, cursing, pushing, pressing, even hair-pulling in their attempt to get closer to the docks. From chieftains to beggars, they all wanted to be the first onboard and the last buried underground. Their fear of being left behind was constantly growing, as the fleet captain was contemplating the risk of letting the dread outrun the speed of the winds.

It was amidst this chaos, in which Seven Braves descended from the sky, aboard a huge bird made of irradiating blue metal. Seen as godsend angels, everybody immediately fell to their knees and prayed for salvation.

“Stop what you are doing and rise, people of Hydoria47.” the leader of the divine company said. “Though we are not gods, we are here to help.”

Everybody did so. Since they were standing up, they could now see him as clearly as they could listen, dressed in white clothes, decorated with golden embroidery, and had the presence of a king, even though he was not one.

“Why are you so quick to abandon your land and belongings? How long can you keep running away from the inevitable before you reach the world’s edge? Stand firm and protect what is yours!”

A local general stepped forward, on behalf of everybody present, excluding the Seven.
“I reckon you know the difference between foolishness and heroism, sir Agathon5. How can we fight what we cannot kill? I tried it with hundreds of my best men, only to fail miserably.”
“I do not question your efforts Ehmis30, old friend. This fog is indeed impossible to defeat with conventional means.”

Indeed. It was appearing out of nowhere during nightfall, vanishing just as easily when the sun came up, passed through walls and spears like they were nothing, yet still shred any flesh engulfed by it to pieces, as if eaten by a locust.

“My lord, recall your companion!” one guard at the back yelled. “He is heading towards his imminent doom.”

Were the stories true, he was one of the Seven, the largest of them all, the barbarian king of the southwestern tribes was marching towards the north.

“He’s doing his part, as instructed” Agathon said, before unsheathing a silver sword decorated with red jewels. “So should the rest of us. If I offer you a way to disperse the mist, will you stand and fight for your land?”
“I will, just to avenge those whose lives were lost for naught!” the general yelled.
A minor priest was heard from the front of the crowd saying “We will gladly offer our lives if that will change things. Unless one of those you arrived with is a god, it is not going to.”
“There is more to heaven and earth than deities my friend, and this happens to be one of them.”

He raised his sword, which radiated like the sun, blinding everyone that looked at it. Kneeling, gasping, and whimpering accompanied those few moments of brilliance, and far more to shake off the blur from their startled eyes. All the chattering that followed was about the meaning behind what just happened.

“Are you trying to scare us even more than we already are?” the general groaned, ready to release his own weapon.
Peasants and soldiers behind him yelled, drawing his attention to the distance.
“Look, the fog, I see shapes! It changes, I can see them!”
And behold, the black cloud took form, revealing pairs of red dots and surrounded by bipedal masses of hair. The true shape of the menace was now clear before them. A sea of bloodthirsty, human-like creatures, ravaging the soils of Japheth52.

“So that is why we couldn’t hit the damn things.” some of the soldiers said. “Remember our granny’s stories about the Beastoids17?”

If only one could trust those fairy tales, then he or she would know why the fog moved only from dusk till dawn, and disappeared during the daytime. The crimson eyes of these fiends could spot a needle in the moonless night, but were as blind as bats when they came to a simple candle. They possessed unnatural powers that allowed them to transform into fog when threatened, and could pass through walls like they weren’t there. Well, not anymore in this particular case.

“Now your swords can cut them, and your arrows can pierce them, like a common hunter’s game” Agathon said as he was lowering his sword.
“I see what you mean, even though I do not comprehend how you achieved it. Yet, our situation remains grim.” the general assured, as nothing had seemingly turned the tides to their favor. “Even when stripped of their enchantments, they are still formidable. They cannot be reasoned with, as they know nothing of mercy and are driven by murderous intent. ”
“Negotiation was never an option, to begin with. They treat victims as prey, and the works of Man as something that needs to be desecrated.”
“Then what is there left to do? There is no time for warfare preparations; they are right before us.”
“This is where my other friend, Vulka126, comes into play” Agathon explained. “He will save us some time; but not too much, so pay attention. First advice, cover your ears immediately.”

A tremendous sound sprung forth from the barbarian’s lungs, a legendary war cry that struck fear into the hearts of anyone within its range. All at once, tens of thousands of Beastoids stopped, causing those who were right behind them to bump into each other, and causing chaos amongst their ranks. This would keep them busy for a few minutes. But only a few.

“Forgive my remarks if they sound like cowardice when they are not, but what is the plan?” the general asked, after he took his hands away from his ears. “Are you perhaps asking us to storm them, when we are unable to see the end of them on the horizon?”

Reckless. There were hundreds of thousands of them, with fur as black as tar that could take quite the beating, pointy nails and sharp teeth that could rip through cattle like a knife through bread.

“My strategy is simple, and to victory, it shall lead” Agathon replied with certainty emanating from his words. “Take out the leader; the rest will scatter like leaves in the wind.”

The enemy acted disorderly but still possessed a basic intellect, much higher than that of any other beast. They were separated into packs of hundreds, each led by an alpha leader at the back. Those were bigger than the rest, barking at anyone walking away or lagging behind. They were armed with what appeared to be curved and blunt swords, waving them in the air as they tried to bring their teams back into shape. Many were even throwing sticks and stones at the barbarian, who wasn’t moving an inch or attempting to avoid them. They bounced off his hardened skin without so much as leaving a scratch.

“Beat the leader you say? There are too many of those, and they’re all protected by their kin. How does that differ from expecting us to kill all of them?”
“Trust me when I say that there is a mastermind behind all of this, and this warchief is who we target.”
“Is he at the very rear of this horde?”
“It is so.”
“There is no way to get to him without passing through all of his troops. Which I assume you realize it is not possible with our numbers, especially when most of us are holding sickles and pitchforks. Adding torches to the mix won’t last long enough to cut down all of them.”

More crushing honesty, coming from a man who all this time was more concerned with saving the lives of his men, than to head for a diminutive possibility of a triumph. Who can blame him? Most were terrified at the mere idea of storming this immeasurable mass of brute force. Fleeing by boarding the ships with their women and children seemed like a vastly better option.

“None shall engage in close quarters, if possible. The only ones performing this task are my team.”
The general let out a short but loud laugh.
“The seven of you against that? Does the sword’s light have side effects, such as relieving you of common sense?”
“You are right to be doubtful; the seven of us are not enough.” He turned to the troops around him, and raised his voice. “We also need support from you all, with cover fire. And we also want you all to stand your ground as we make our way through this accursed army. Victory is in your hands as much as it is in our own, for both requirements must be met.”
“So be it; many strange things have happened today already, why wouldn’t there be room for another?” the general shrugged, unwilling to continue his argument. Everybody was instantly in favor of this plan since they didn’t have to fight directly.
“Are you done chatting back there?” the barbarian yelled from a distance. “My intimidation is fading away, faster than they are running out of things to throw.” At this point he was covered up to his knees by crude projectiles. Yet he still stood there, as steady as a mountain.

The Beastoids were slowly regaining their confidence too, motivated by the growls of their alpha to keep marching, preferably in a curved line around this screaming horror.
Agathon and the other five Braves were on the metallic bird once more.
“Then the operation begins immediately. Kendron60, fly us over the horde.”
“Keep in mind that it won’t be high enough to avoid being boarded.” the old wizard said in a hoarse voice.
“We will not have to fight any monsters besides those managing to grab and climb.” Iris51 the priest added, with his distinctive feminine voice.
“Still, we expect you to hold them off, until we deal with their warchief.” Anaklai9 the archer, reminded the rest.
“And the time we shall save!” the general confirmed, as his commands flew around like a volley of arrows. “Those with pitchforks! You are now spearmen, get in front. Those with hunting bows or slingshots, you are now bowmen providing cover fire. Those who can fight, you are the infantry, those who cannot, you are not out of the loop, for you are reserves. Light torches too, for it makes them blind and easy to hit. Now make lines and show those blasted beasts who the smartest creatures are under the gods! Nobody heads for the ships, until I allow it.”

…….

And thus in a span of a few minutes, a mob of fleeing hopeless men had turned into a fighting unit, ready to fight, if not to the death then until the loss of a limb, for defending the lands taken by the horde.

“Drink.”

The sun was about to set and the killing was about to begin, as the armies of the Beastoids marched once more. The time when blades speak and bloodshed resolves disputes is nigh.

“Drink!”

The Braves flew towards the enemy, picking up their barbarian companion, who grabbed the head of the bird as they passed by him.

“I said drink!”

Sickles were raised, bowstrings were stretched, pitchforks aimed forward. And then, by the general’s command…

“Are you deaf?” nagged the Brute, as an empty wooden cup hit the absorbed-in-reading tawny head. “Bring me beer before I smack you a hard one.” he interrupted the cylinder’s21 events, while sitting on an armless chair.

“Y-yes! Right away!” the surprised youth replied, dropping the cylinder that contained the epic of Agathon, and rushing to the kitchen.

the continuation of the story is here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1549878581