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The two broods of witches, that of Saint Claude and that of Saint Bernard, both seeking to gain control of the same future, marched towards each other along the same river’s edge for a reunion of epic proportions, an encounter that would determine the fate of their world. But neither group truly knew the sheer insignificance of all the fighting that was about to occur should Jade find herself successful in her efforts. Still they marched closer towards each other, like magnets of opposite energies, each unknowing of the eyes peering out from the swamp alongside them, each set waiting for the cues from their respective War Composers to pounce.
The battle for the future was about to begin along this riverside.
Blood was about to be shed.
And as both broods came within sight of one another, Marigny shouted for his Saint Claude forces to halt. General Floridia allowed his forces to march several more yards before halting them at the edge of a small dip in the ground ahead of them, a spot where the river would normally fill at high tide but was bone dry despite the flood. Marigny and his Saint Claude forces were largely outnumbered, but stood firm regardless. Only a short distance of empty space stood between the two forces, but each side waited for the order to attack before they did anything. Everyone was standing behind their respective leaders. And for the time being, everything was calm and still.
As General Floridia stepped forward to see the young warlock Marigny standing at the head of the Saint Claude forces, he shook his head in disbelief.
“I cannot believe you have sunk to such depths, Marigny! But I should have known that you would one day take the old bastard’s place!” Floridia shouted aloud as the river flowed alongside them. “So where is he? Where is your ‘brave’ king now?”
Marigny felt a tingle of anger in his face, knowing exactly where he was, but telling him exactly what he wanted everyone to think. Even then, he was still playing his role of conspirator in this fight for the future. “As far as I know,” Marigny said, speaking loudly and clearly, “He is still missing!”
“Oh, well, now that is too bad. We grieve for your loss. Truly, we do.” Floridia said with a slight smile and a hint of sarcasm. “You know, I can still remember when Orleans first arrived with you at Elder Castle, back when you were young and still had much potential.” His voice grew menacing, trying to find some painful memory for Marigny to dwell on, but to no avail.
The warwalker just chuckled. “None of that matters anymore!” He yelled out. “He may be gone, but this is our world now.”
Floridia laughed. “Oh, of course,” he said, “But I’m sure you know this does not have to happen this way.” He tried to call for a truce, trying to take advantage of Marigny during his time of supposed loss and weakness. “Just walk away, leave this land, start your new life somewhere else, and we will end all of this right now. No one else has to die.”
This time Marigny laughed at him. “You are far too generous, general.” He moaned sarcastically before gritting his teeth and growling, “But your time has come and gone, elder, and your ideals have grown stale!” The young warlock was brimming with confidence. “So yes, Dubouchel, old buddy, it does have to happen this way.”
“I had a feeling you might say that.” The General groaned in displeasure, “And for it, you shall breathe your last breath!”
General Floridia pulled his sword from its sheath, raising it high in the air.
“Do not be so sure of yourself, waken!” Marigny yelled out, raising his bow up and pointing it right at him, pulling back the arrow and letting it fly across the distance between them.
“Show them no mercy! Atta… gha,” Floridia gurgled as Marigny’s lone arrow stabbed through his left shoulder.
The Saint Bernard forces froze for just a second as General Floridia stumbled backwards.
Then he reached over and ripped the arrow from his flesh, blood squirting out from the wound as he tossed it to the ground and raised his sword once again, yelling out, “Attack!!!”
Marigny let a small smile come across his face as the Saint Bernard forces charged towards him. “I had a feeling he would do something like that.” He mumbled as he motioned for his Saint Claude forces to hold their positions. “The old fool.”
Floridia led the charge down the slight dip, trying to draw Marigny and his young force down the opposite end of it, but the warwalker held his forces still at its opposite foot. He put his bow away to draw his sword, the sound of its steel leaving its leather holster bringing joy to his ears.
He waited patiently for the charging army to reach him, so Claiborne and his waiting clan of demons could be in position to ambush them from behind, but little did he know that Floridia had his own group of witches from all across this new land waiting silently in the swamp, as well, already making their way behind the Saint Claude forces.
That was where the dark skinned native leader, Violet, stood silently, with her arms outstretched and senses extended. Beside her stood two warlocks, each remaining just as still as she, until she spoke.
“I cannot sense him. I do not believe he is here.”
The dark-skinned warlock on her left began to chuckle, “So, Violet, does that mean you have precipitated this war for no reason?”
“Not at all,” the native witch shook her head. “The reasons for this war extend far beyond the Arken.”
“Still,” the warlock commented, “You should have let me kill him in the tree shelter.”
“That is what the Ruloux brothers were there for, Sanfrond.” She seemed to remind him.
“And he would have been put to sleep had he not ran off into the flood like some maniac,” a third voice confirmed, the lighter-skinned warlock on her right, his face freshly charred from a Terra blast he’d received only a day before. He then stepped closer to Sanfrond, telling him, “But you let him get away. You were supposed to keep him in that shelter… it was your only draking objective… and now my brothers are dead because of your failure.”
“Save it for the Arken, Rylo.” Violet said as she stepped back between them. “He may not be a part of this conflict just yet, but he has gone nowhere. So I need you to wait out here in this swamp until the scum shows his face… then I need you to blot it out forever after. Is that understood?”
With a nod, the final surviving Ruloux brother slipped into the swamp, while Violet and Sanfrond were allowed to watch the charging Saint Bernard forces from the bushes, waiting for their signal and ready to seal their newly forged alliance with the clashing of steel.
Once again, the sun broke through the still darkened clouds above to shine light down upon the eastern edge of the swamp’s crescent, near the end of the mighty river’s long journey through the core of this newly discovered land, where this country’s first great battle between supernatural kinds was mere steps away from beginning.
Marigny tensed up, clearing his mind as General Floridia and the Saint Bernard forces grew ever closer. Beside him, the witch Camindra was readying her own bow, pulling the arrow into position. And with a quick nod from Marigny, she began aiming it carefully at the chest of Floridia as the General raised his sword over his right shoulder, ready to strike.
But all of this, everything happening there along the river, was a mere distraction, by both sides, for the true battle for the future was taking place only a few hundred yards away, underneath the dirt.