The Gift of Battle

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Volusia stood atop the parapets of the Empire capital, staring out at the vast desert before her, streaked scarlet by the breaking dawn, and took in the sight with awe. Surrounded by all her generals and advisors, she looked over to see all of them looking ashen. She could not blame them.

It was a magnificent sight before them: the world looked like one giant battlefield. The entire world seemed to be blanketed by the Knights of the Seven, their distinctive black banners flying high in the wind, their glistening black armor covering the desert like a plague, leaving not a single space free. This was unlike anything she had ever seen. It was not like the small force that had come before; rather, this was the entire army, all of the assets of the Empire unfurled before her. They were as numerous as grains of sand by the sea. It was as if the army had no end.

The banners alone, flying so high above the troops, were thick enough to blot out the sun. They rippled wildly, their sound audible even from here, though their front lines were several hundred yards away.

“Goddess?” asked one of her generals, panic in his voice. “They have the capital surrounded. There’s no escape this time.”

“Nor is there any chance we could withstand their attack,” added another. “Not for long.”

Volusia, wanting to see for herself, slowly turned in a wide circle, taking in the panorama. She saw the black army spread out as wide as could be, encircling them like a great ring. It was a greater army than she’d ever laid eyes upon—she did not know such force of numbers was possible. While she knew this might be the end of her, she felt grateful to be alive to see such a sight. There seemed no end to the number of soldiers that were alive in the world.

“Your sorcery won’t help you now,” added one of her advisors. “Not with the Volks gone. You will have no magic at your disposal—just brute force. It will be us against them. It is a battle we could never win.”

“To even attempt a defense would be suicide,” added a general. “We have no choice—we must surrender.”

“Raise the white flag,” added an advisor, “and broker a truce. Perhaps they will show mercy.”

Volusia stood there, a tense silence falling over them, as she studied the horizon.

“This is no mere army, Goddess,” said a general. “This is the force of the entire Empire, the might of the world, descending upon our city. You have led us to ruin. Surrender. There is no other choice.”

As Volusia stared out at the horizon, she tried to block out their voices. Their points were all true, she knew; with the Volks gone, she no longer had the power of sorcery. And yet, in a strange way, that made Volusia happy. All of this time, she had relied upon the external power of the sorcery of others. All along, she had secretly wanted to rely only on her own power. Because, deep down, she felt, she knew, that she was a goddess, that she was invincible. That she did not need the Volks. That she did not need anyone.

And now, finally, the time had come to prove herself, to show the world the power of the great Goddess Volusia. To show them that she, and she alone, could stop an army, had power enough within her to stop the entire world.

After a long silence, Volusia turned to her men and smiled.

“You are wrong,” she said. “It is they who don’t have a choice. They will all surrender to me, the great Goddess Volusia—or they will all pay the price.”

They all stared at her, dumbfounded, speechless.

Volusia would waste no more time with them, these men who would never understand until they saw it for themselves.

“I alone will confront them,” she added. “Now open the gates.”

Her generals, faces frozen with fear, looked back at her as if she were mad.

Volusia turned and descended from the ramparts, down the stone steps, all of her men following hastily. She crossed through the golden courtyard of the Empire’s capital, ceremoniously, all of her soldiers, all of her people, stopping what they were doing to watch her go. She walked alone toward the massive gates to the city, feeling her destiny bubbling up within her. Finally, the time had come. Finally, it was time to show the world who she truly was.

The huge, arched, golden gates opened slowly, creaking, as dozens of soldiers turned the cranks. She walked right for them, the first rays of sunlight pouring through between the gap, lighting her grotesque face.

Volusia continued walking, out of the safety of the capital, out into the desert, feeling the cobblestone beneath her feet give way to sand, crunching beneath her boots. Alone, outside, she continued to walk, slowly, one step at a time, never looking back.

Volusia could feel the eyes of thousands of her own soldiers upon her, watching her nervously from within the city capital—and could feel, even more so, the eyes of the millions of soldiers of the Knights of the Seven stopping and gazing at her. Still, she never stopped. She was a Goddess, after all, and she would stop for no one. She needed no one. She could take on the forces of the world all by herself.

Horns sounded throughout the enemy camp, and Volusia watched as all of the formations broke into action. Thousands of divisions rallied, charging forward with a great battle cry, eager for her head. Eager to tear her apart.

Still, she kept walking. She took another step, and another. Volusia closed her eyes, raised her palms to the sky, leaned back, and let out a great shriek. As she did, she willed for the world to bend to her will. She willed for the Earth to split before her, to swallow up this army. She commanded the heavens to strike down, the clouds to rush to her will, and lightning to kill their men. She willed for every power in the universe to rush to her aid. She commanded it.

Volusia stood there, bunching her fists, willing and waiting as the men rushed closer, the galloping of their horses shaking the ground, filling her ears.

And yet nothing happened.

There was no lightning, no earthquake; there were no clouds.

Instead, there was just the sound of silence.

Sickening, awful silence.

And she, alone, was about to be destroyed by an army.