Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 2 ❯ CHAPTER 48: ADVANCE ( Chapter 17 )

The Gold Army advanced on the castle fields, where they encountered trenches and earthworks, archers and ballistae, and all manner of barricades and traps meant to hobble the Crimean cavalry. Of course, Soren’s spies had already described these fortifications in great detail, but seeing such a feat of martial engineering with his own eyes was another thing entirely.

That being said, Soren had prepared a countermeasure for every element of Daein’s defense, and what he really wanted to see were these measures put into action. At the head of the army, Lucia led a vanguard of swordsmen, behind which were stationed a line of mages (Soren included). Geoffrey’s cavalry regiment was lined up behind them, eager for the charge.

“Cut them to pieces!” was Lucia’s bloodthirsty cry, and she, Mia, Zihark, Stefan, and hundreds of others ran toward Daein’s first line. However, instead of engaging them, they broke through, slipped past, and slid into the trench where pikemen were stationed to skewer leaping horses. Soren couldn’t see much, but he knew there was little the pikemen could do to defend themselves in close quarters. The trench would become a river of blood.

The front line of Daeins—looking confused and a little insulted at being passed by—turned their attention on the vulnerable mages and raced forward. The spellcasters stepped up to confront them, which meant it was time for Soren to start chanting. Calill, Tormod, and the other fire mages conjured walls of flames, and Soren, Bastian, and the other wind mages attacked between them. If any soldiers got through, Rhys and the other light mages melted their hands and faces before they could attack. Many of the new tome-wielding recruits were elderly and had never applied their craft to real battle. But Soren was pleased to see no one fainted or ran for their lives; the line held.

When enough of the soldiers were dead, the archers beyond the trench finally started firing. In response, Soren and the other wind mages switched tactics, now focusing on keeping the arrows from landing on their targets.

Before long, Lucia signaled that the trench was secure and Geoffrey ordered the charge. “We are the thunder!” he bellowed, and in response Ilyana and the other thunder mages cried:

“And we are the lightning!” They shocked the ground with weak, sustained bolts. Doing so lit up the metal caltrops with vibrating tendrils of electricity, revealing where they littered the field both before and beyond the trench. Once they were visible, the horses naturally avoided them and the charge could proceed unhindered.

Soren and the wind mages jogged forward, continuing to cast their protective spells, but the earth-pounding cavalry swiftly overtook them. Titania, Oscar, Kieran, Astrid, Makalov, and even Mist were among them. They leapt safely over the trench, and once they were on the other side, they tore into the archers trying to fall back and the infantry trying to move forward—thereby sewing death and disorder in Daein’s frontlines.

Next to run past Soren were the churning legs of an ax phalanx. Many of these men and women were civilian recruits, but some, such as Boyd and Largo, were experts of their craft. The members of this phalanx were carrying planks and ladders above their heads, which they laid over the trench to make the crossing easier for the rest of the army.

These planks were fitted with handles, and once the army was across, the rear troops would heft them as pavises and carry them to the frontlines again. When they reached the wall, the ladders would be used to scale it.

But for now, Boyd’s phalanx united with Lucia’s vanguard, and together they surged ahead. They arrived just in time for Daein to assemble a line of pikes against the cavalry, and Geoffrey signaled a retreat to make way for the incoming infantry. Soren and the elemental mages finally caught up, and once they were in position, they continued illuminating caltrops, combatting volleys of arrows, and burning control lines to keep the Daein forces from advancing. The light mages were a bit slower, and since many doubled as healers, they fell back to attend the injured.

Ike and the rest of the army were approaching slowly but steadily from behind. At the front marched a large regiment of archers, including Shinon and Rolf. They were fending off the dracoknights who’d already begun attacking the main army, and an aerial platoon led by Elincia was rounding up any who tried to split off.

When Ike signaled that the entire army had crossed, the process began again with the next trench. This time, a regiment of spearmen and halberdiers, including Nephenee and Devdan, were responsible for the planks and ladders.

After crossing the next two trenches, they came to a wider section of field. In addition to the caltrops, there were many more troops and staggered rows of chevaux-de-frise. Although the infantry vanguard could slip between them without losing too much momentum, they made maneuvering the cavalry impossible.

But Soren had planned for this as well. First, pairs of horses ran with chains between them to take down soldiers who didn’t realize the need to duck. In this way, they cleared paths to the barricades. One rider in each pair then dropped the chain, and both veered off to either side before impaling themselves on the spikes. Special units moved in their wake, carrying torches and bladders of oil to set fire to the frise.

Some fire mages joined these teams for good measure, but most had a separate task of targeting the walls of sandbag interspersed among the chevaux-de-frise. Burlap burned even if sand didn’t, and the barricades eventually fell apart.

The frise they couldn’t burn were hacked to pieces by soldiers wielding poleaxes, leaving only a few still standing, which were then easy to avoid. And when any soldier or mercenary encountered one that was light enough (or hacked small enough) to move, they would send up a signal flag. A rider with a chain would proceed to the location, hook their line to the frise and take off running. In this way, cantering steeds turned the spikey wooden deathtraps into mobile weapons, swinging left and right behind the horses and taking out dozens of alarmed Daeins.

Some tacticians may have frowned upon the time, effort, and lives Soren was expending merely to clear the battlefield of obstructions. But he had a good reason for it. The fields around Melior Castle existed to capitalize on Crimea’s superior horsemanship and cavalry maneuvers in the case of a direct attack on the capital. Ramon hadn’t had time to mobilize his army and take advantage of the terrain when Ashnard had first attacked, but now Soren was intent on giving the Crimean Army a field on which to prove itself. He had watched them fight and train these past weeks, and he knew what they were capable of.

Another trench segmented the battlefield and the arena beyond was similarly furnished with troops and barricades, so Ike proceeded with a second rendition of Soren’s strategy. The fire troops still had enough oil, so it worked just as well the second time. When the barricades were cleared and the caltrops revealed, Geoffrey’s cavalry platoons raced around the field, disorienting, separating, and slaughtering the enemy soldiers. 

When this section was clear, the army took a moment to breathe and adjust their formations before moving on. Daein may have been controlling the pace of the battle with their fortifications, but the Liberation Army was taking advantage of it too. Ike was restraining himself enough to monitor the battle from behind the frontlines and carefully control the advance. As long as Soren and the wind mages mitigated the barrage of arrows and as long as the phalanxes of shield-bearers like Gatrie, Brom, and Tauroneo protected their right and left sides, there was no immediate danger and no frantic rush. In this way, every new hurdle could also serve as a chance to reconvene.

Each time, Soren assessed the cavalry at the heart of the army, and he was pleased to see his tactics were preserving a large number of horses that would have otherwise been lost to Daein’s traps. Despite the already staggering number deaths and the hundreds of injured being triaged in the army’s rear, nothing important had yet been lost. The battle could continue. The Liberation Army still had a chance.

When they neared the portion of the field that was within range of Daein’s rolling catapults, Ike ordered Elincia’s aerial regiment to retreat to basecamp. The remaining dracoknights must have sensed victory at the sight of their fleeing prey, because every single one pursued. But Soren had predicted this behavior well ahead of time, and Ike knew what to do. He’d already pulled back the archer regiment and altered their formation into an execution corridor. Elincia and the others led the dracoknights south in a straight line, and the archers fired relentlessly as they passed, not stopping until every last wyvern had fallen from the sky. 

Soren had stopped fighting to turn around and watch the display, and although he was relieved his plan at worked, he also regretted the distraction. An enemy arrow found his shoulder, and he fell to the ground. Rolling over, he incanted another spell and was ready to release it by the time he was back on his feet.

Once he was safe again, he started falling back, looking for a cleric. As a member of the Greil Regiment, he’d been given an emergency flag to summon one of the mounted healers if need be, but he would prefer not to use it and disrupt the flow of battle. That being said, he would also have preferred not to be shot. He still had a lot of this battle left to fight, and he couldn’t afford to be weakened so early.

Chanting spells through the pain, he managed to defend himself as he retreated. Eventually he found someone who could remove the arrow and close the wound. He was an elderly priest who reminded Soren of Belm and should probably have had no place on a battlefield. But here he was, and Soren supposed he appreciated it. As with the bishop at Riven Bridge, this healing session was a painful one, and Soren had little double it would leave an aching, puckered scar. But at least it didn’t take long.

By the time he rejoined the fray, the army was crossing the next trench. Catapults were firing, and as they did, Daein soldiers ducked behind earthwork shelters. When the firing stopped, the soldiers emerged to assault the battered Liberation troops. Once the weapons had been reloaded, Daein would relay a signal and the soldiers on the frontlines would take shelter again. In this way, Soren watched dozens of Crimean and Begnion soldiers dying around him, including their precious cavalry, while virtually no progress was made into the field. Turning his eyes to the sky, Soren wondered where Elincia was.

She and the others aerial units flew overhead a moment later, much to his relief. They surpassed the vanguard, flying just high enough to avoid the enemy arrows. The princess was flanked on either side by Jill and Haar, which must have been a surprising sight for any Daein who hadn’t heard rumors of the two traitors. Behind them on the right rode Marcia, who was leading ten Crimean pegasus knights who’d once been members of Queen Lenore’s royal guard and six Crimean postal workers who’d only been promoted to pegasus knight in the past week. Behind Elincia on the left flew Tanith, who was leading her twenty-four remaining Holy Guards, all of whom had proven themselves excellent warriors to have survived all the way from Tor Garen.

Each of these flyers had just picked up saddlebags from basecamp; one side was filled with glass decanters of oil while the other carried carefully-wrapped hot coals and short torches. They’d trained diligently for days to synchronize their speed, height, and drop time for a direct hit. Now they released the oil from a high altitude, splattering the wooden ballistae. When the machines were sufficiently doused, they dropped out of the sky, putting themselves at much greater risk from the Daein archers. But that didn’t stop them from taking the coals, crushing them to light the torches, and then tossed them onto the oil.

It was with great satisfaction that Soren saw one ballista after the next burst into flame in the distance. Elincia and her team retreated when all the catapults were burning, and the army cheered their return.

In response to this unexpectedly effective sabotage, the Daein infantry spilled from the earthworks. No longer wary of friendly fire from their artillery, they fought with no restraint and quite a bit of frustration.

A moment later, the Daein forces stationed near the ballistae-turned-bonfires ordered a cavalry charge. Their mounted units poured down the field, and Ike rushed to get pikemen assembled in time, but the frontlines were a mess of fighting and they couldn’t establish a proper defense. Geoffrey divided his forces to flank the incoming cavalry on either side, but even that was delayed. Soren found himself at the center of a bloodbath, and it was all he could do to stay alive. Those fortunate enough to be standing near an earthwork shelter threw themselves inside for cover, but the vast majority had no protection from the incoming wave of hooves and steel.

Soren was knocked to the ground, and a horse crushed his ankle. Gasping, he crawled toward a large corpse and curled up to make himself small underneath it. It was all he could do to avoid being trampled.

By the time the charge diffused, there was fighting all around him. But to stay in place would mean being either intentionally or accidentally killed. Pulling himself up, he collected a fallen spear and used it as a walking stick to retreat. He cursed the injury between incantations. This battle was still far from over, and he needed to hold out until the end.

Once Soren had been healed and the Liberation Army was fit to proceed again, they marched onward. Crossing another trench, they passed the still-smoldering remains of the catapults and fought their way through more chevaux-de-frise interspersed with Daein troops and more barricades sheltering Daein archers.

Another trench brought them within range of the second deployment of ballistae. They were stationed near the castle walls, but they were larger and their range longer. At least this meant the Liberation Army was getting close. Soren tried to determine how much time had passed. An hour? Two? Three? There was still so much ground to cover.

These trebuchets were hurting the Liberation Army even worse than the catapults. Something had to be done, but the same tactic wouldn’t work a second time. Learning from their previous loss, Daein had pulled back a legion of archers until each ballista was an island in a sea of arrowheads. If Elincia led her troops there now, not a single one would survive.

But Soren had a final trick up his sleeve. While he fought, he kept his eye on this legion, watching for the telltale ripples of panic in their ranks. The key here was Volke—or rather, him, Sothe, Ena, and the team they’d chosen for this mission. Volke’s secret regiment had splintered from the Gold Army before the first charge, moved around the castle fields via the city streets, and proceeded to enter the sewer canal. From here they’d waded their way through the castle’s waste water in a tunnel leading all the way to the wall. A thick grate barred entrance to the castle this way, but entry wasn’t necessary. The tunnel merely allowed Volke and the others to appear behind enemy lines undetected. By now they would be watching the battle, waiting for the right moment to strike the archers’ western flank from the rear.

The ripples of motion began, and Soren grinned. The archers surged backward, stopped in confusion, and surged again. Ena appeared suddenly, towering above them, monstrous and pink. Geoffrey and Elincia must have noticed this, because they signaled their troops to proceed with the second half of the strategy.

“Now!” Geoffrey roared. “We go straight through!” He gathered his riders, and they galloped as one to the western flank, pushing through the enemy ranks heedless of danger.

“Sally forth!” Elincia rallied her flyers, “We are not far now!” They charged above the stampede, quickly surpassing them. The princess then led the pegasi and two wyverns in a dive on the first trebuchet. Thanks to the confusion Volke and Ena were sewing, they managed not to become overwhelmed by arrows. While they moved down the line, cutting the sling ropes on each trebuchet, Geoffrey and the cavalry raced to support them.

Many died. The field hadn’t been cleared for them, and horses fell screaming with broken legs or with spears and pikes protruding from their chests. But the majority made it through, and the entire Daein defense was shocked and destabilized. Now it was Ike’s time to shine, and with Ranulf and Lucia at his side, he led the infantry in a charge. “We’re nearly there!” he promised his troops. “One final push!”

The confusion petered out, and Elincia’s aerial platoon was forced to retreat while still two trebuchets remained. But these were on the eastern side of the field, and now the entire Liberation Army had surged to the left, so the majority were safely out of range until the ballistae could be recalibrated. Ena reverted her form, and Geoffrey’s cavalry rescued her, Volke, Sothe, and the others. Then they made a hasty retreat to meet up with Ike’s assault.

When they did, a portion of the Daein army was separated from the other, and the Liberation archers fired mercilessly from all sides. The trapped soldiers frothed like a maelstrom until nearly all were dead. Only then did the Liberation Army retreat again, reforming their front line. This final ploy had cost many lives, but Daein had suffered more. That was what mattered.

The battle evened out, and both sides fought head-to-head in the shadow of the Melior Castle’s southern wall. Ike clearly enjoyed being able to fight in the lead again, after settling for cleaning up whatever soldiers the frontlines left behind or accidentally let pass. Although he’d certainly been fighting this whole time, it hadn’t been the chaos Soren knew he thrived in.

Ike’s visibility increased morale at a critical juncture, and now the siege truly began. The ladders and pavises were brought to the front, and the vanguard forced open channels between the enemy troops to get them to the walls. Once the ladders were in place, they needed to get as many soldiers as possible up onto the ramparts to take out the archers and mounted scorpions assailing the troops. Tanith and the aerial regiment were currently drawing much of their fire with adept loop-de-loops, but Elincia had fallen back to heal the injured. She was too important; and this stage of the battle was too dangerous.

Once the ladder troops were proceeding with their orders, Soren turned his attention to the main gate, which was east of his current position. Ike’s and Ranulf’s platoons were already surging to clear the way. The massive wooden gate and iron portcullis would have to fall sooner rather than later to spare the most lives.

Soren headed in that direction, but not before he glanced behind him. Daein’s fortifications were in shambles, and the wide field was a muddle of bodies. Supine or pronate, staring at the sky or the dirt, curled into a fetal position or bent into impossible, broken shapes, Crimean, Daein, or Begnion, cream, black, or crimson, veteran or new recruit—they were all just corpses now. A field of corpses. 

 Turning his attention back to his task, Soren cast a few Elfire spells to help him reach the gate unharmed. The plan to remove the gate was his invention, and he couldn’t deny he was a little nervous it would fail. The logic at the core of his strategy was the simple fact that the gate was built in such a way that the portcullis fell until it hit the ground, and there it stopped. If he took away the ground, it would sink, become warped, and the mechanism break. But to do that, Soren would have to take away the ground.

While soldiers protected them with a cocoon of pavises, Soren, Bastian, Calill, Tormod, and Ilyana approached the gate. Here they would combine their power to cast what would hopefully be the most powerful Bolganone spell Tellius had ever seen. They chanted in unison, slowly, carefully, and some with eyes closed in prayer. When one spell ended, they began another. 

As one of the most powerful fire spells, Bolganone was designed to turn the ground at an opponent’s feet into a puddle of lava—a pit if they were adept, a wave if they were a master. When cast by five talented mages, the pool was deep and vast. The lava bubbled and swirled, and the portcullis sank into it. Its descent was uneven, leaning toward the side being cast by Tormod and Calill, around whom the air undulated in waves of heat.

The iron bars grew hot and started bending at the same time the lava burped up against the wooden doors, successfully setting them alight. The flames raced up the ancient planks, which burned bright before blackening and cracking like bones in a fire. The portcullis finally broke. A portion fell, followed by another break and another fall. The bars continued to melt. 

“Now!” Ike called, having been watching for this moment. Soren and the others pushed with all of their might, ending the last spell with a surge. The lava swept forward, swamping the remnants of the portcullis, taking a large bite out of the bottom of the burning gate, and spreading itself more thinly on the other side. Through the hole, Soren saw Daein boots backpedaling.

Now came the final step in his plan. Soren and the others switched to wind magic, which was why he was standing at the center, with Bastian behind him. They all cast Elwind spells, except for Bastian who cast Blizzard and Soren who cast Arcwind (a gift from Bastian).

The combined gusts suffocated the flames instantly, and Bastian’s Blizzard in particular helped cool the ground and calm the lava. The force of the attack (particularly Soren’s Arcwind), also served to knock down the weakened gate and topple the last part of the portcullis still leaning against it. By the time the winds stopped, the doors that had comprised the massive gate were nothing more than two charred slabs lying on the ground, with only splinters still clinging to the ancient hinges. The ground itself had been transformed into a flow of warped rock, melded with the iron grate. A few corroded spikes still protruded from it, but other than that, it was quite safe to walk on.

The entire process had taken only a few minutes, but Soren was dizzy and panting hard. Expending so much magic at one time had felt like he’d been casting part of his very life force out of his body. But he was still conscious, still alive, and his plan had worked. Due to the scarcity of Bolganone spells, they’d never been able to practice this at Pinell. Success was a relief, no matter the toll.

No one in the history of Tellius had ever tried to get through such a mighty gate using only magic, let alone succeeded—which was probably why the Daein soldiers on the other side were staring in absolute shock instead of attacking.

“We’re through!” Ike announced, although it was obvious. He raised his sword and led the charge himself. Only then did the Daein soldiers inside the bailey seemed to remember their training and set up shield walls.

Some of the scorpions on the wall were pivoted to fire inside, and as Soren proceeded into the bailey, he was cautious of the steel bolts. But before long, their engineers were slaughtered and replaced with Liberation archers climbing the ladders. They turned the ballistae against their owners and sent down a cascade of arrows to help the invading troops.

Eventually the main bailey and surrounding courtyards were firmly under the Liberation Army’s control, and the Daein forces fell back to join garrisons deeper in the castle. The battle beyond the walls was wrapping up as well.

Soren looked around and was dismayed to see so few of the Gold Army was fit to continue. This battle wasn’t over yet, and if they didn’t defeat Ashnard soon, Daein would rally and purge them from the castle.

Ike was calling the Greil Regiment together, and fortunately they were all still alive. Members of the Greil Regiment with serious injuries were given priority, and when they were all healed, they prepared to move out. After fighting this whole time, they were far more battered and exhausted than was ideal—Soren included. He wondered how they could face Ashnard and his personal guard like this, but he didn’t voice his doubts aloud.

“We can do this,” Titania said softly, as if reading his mind. Soren startled and glanced at her, but she wasn’t looking at him and he wasn’t sure she’d been speaking to him at all.

While they made their way to the royal gardens, the Crimean and Begnion lieutenants would continue the siege. One small battalion would take the library, another the temple. The majority would seize the palace.

“Keep the Daein Army from surrounding us,” Ike told the man in charge of this battalion, clapping him on the shoulder. He was one of the Begnion lieutenants who’d fought with them since Tor Garen. “We’ll take care of King Ashnard and the rest.”

“Yes, sir,” replied the lieutenant with a salute. “We leave our trust in you.”

Ike nodded, released him, and turned without another word. He fell in step with Elincia’s pegasus on his right and Titania’s stallion on his left. Soren was right behind him.