Cythera Chronicles: Cities of Fire I

Nex necis ea poventus
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The Private Journal of Captain Jace Harran, 4th Division, Cytherian Legions
4th Halimath, Cademia, the 82nd year in the rule of Alaric.

I love the fall. It makes me think of peace, the harvest, and home. Especially Kiera and little Jacen waiting at home for me back in Iuna. I love Iuna. It’s such a small, simple village, but I like it that way. There are so many memories there, at the headwaters where Prusa used to teach the children. But that time is gone. Here I sit, in Cademia, in the middle of a war. This war has raged three years, with no relief for the troops. Here on the sea, we defend against the constant siege and onslaught of the Cashormin troops. From across the sea, they come in endless numbers. The rumors that spread around camp say that these attackers are from the mainland south of here. They do not attack because they wish to conquer us, but rather, they wish to conquer the forces north of our island. Our peaceful land of Cythera is the perfect launching point for their crusade. Though we may be defeated, I hope that our defense will prove a stronger crusade than the dark forces beyond. Yet also, I wish to see my family again. More than ever, the wear of three years siege hurts. We can support ourselves indefinitely, we grow food in the city and have plenty of water, and also find gaps between one force’s death and another’s arrival, every month or two. It is almost time for me to give the wake up call, by the sundial, so I must leave this text for another time. May the war end soon.

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“How are we doing, sir?”

“Another pair of ships are on the horizon. Do you see them, Lieutenant Keth?”

“Yes sir, Captain Harran, sir.”

“Good. Two warships, that’s twenty men, and five passenger ships, that’s one hundred men. Five score men, Lieutenant Keth, do you think we can handle them?”

“Yes sir, Captain Harran, sir.”

“Good, keep your morale up. Are the supplies securely in?”

“Yes sir. The last wagon train left ten minutes ago, sir.”

“Good work. Go rouse the men. It’s time to prepare for battle.”

The sunlit sea shown with a brilliant radiance. Jace hated it. It was so beautiful, that it should not be able to bear so many instruments of destruction. There were anywhere from eighty to two hundred men arriving every day to continue their onslaught against the Cytherians. Every day they arrived steadily. No doubt, back in Cashorm there were troops training from ages sixteen and up, ready to be shipped off and thrown away, in hopes that they might eventually wear down the Cytherians and drive through their land, subduing its citizens. And yet, Jace was also suspicious. For years, there had been troops every day. The first onslaught was the largest, but following that, numbers only decreased slightly. For the past three months, troop numbers had been slowly, and steadily decreasing. It was a good sign. Finally, they were running out of troops.

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Not many hours later, the next onslaught arrived. The entire 4th division, as usual, took the walls facing the sea. Their bows were out, and loaded with freshly fletched arrows.

“Ready!” Called Jace down the line.
The bowstrings drew back.
“Hold!” Jace’s voice followed.
There was a momentary pause. It seemed like a minute had passed to Jace, who slowly inhaled and exhaled.
“Warship!” Jace ordered, and all the bows immediately swerved, aiming at the decks of the two warships. Sensibly, all the soldiers were under the decks as they passed into firing range.
“Unit Three!” He continued, “Washers!”

Jace was trying a new strategy. Instead of trying to take down passenger ships, he was trying to take down warships, warships that distracted the walls from the passengers unloading. The passengers would get out fine, but would have no cover from the side walls, the foot soldiers, or gate guardians. The torchers stood in place, ready to light all the arrows of division four with their deadly flame. Well... almost all arrows. The arrows of unit three would be taking shots at the washers, whose job was to put out any fires on the ship. Unit three was known for its accuracy, and had previously been employed to try to kill the soldier operating the tiller. Jace was taking a risk. Hopefully, it would work.

“This will not be their day of triumph,” Jace muttered, and then cleared his throat.

“FLAME!” He called, loud and clear. The torchers stepped forward and lit the arrows. “FIRE!!!” Jace’s voice screamed, and the arrows flew down burning quickly. A few hit the sails, others the deck, and one lucky arrow hit the tiller itself. Soon, if things went right, one ship’s ability to steer would be up in flames. There was one washer left on the first boat, and three on the other.

“ALL UNITS! WASHERS! NOW!!” Jace yelled, and twenty arrows flew off toward the washers. Looking upward toward a tower at the corner of the wall, Jace ran for the stairs. Climbing them as quickly as he could, he ran to a catapult, loaded with a keg.

Most of the alcohol in the entire city went to the war, for the sole purpose that Jace was about to employ. Releasing the catapult’s arm, a keg of alcohol sped toward one of the burning ships. It missed. Jace was already loading another, and had launched it at the second moments later. The shot was a success, and it hit. The ship, which before, was just beginning to warm up, burst into flames. The other ship moved steadily on. Jace called down “More flames! At the first ship!” They began to fire, and Jace launched another keg. It clipped the back end of the ship, leaving a small puddle of alcohol.

“BURN IT!” No sooner had it been ordered, that three arrows plunged into the puddle, and that ship also ignited. Smugly, Jace noted that the arrows had come from unit three. Their part was done. Casually, Jace yelled “Fire at will! At the passenger ships!” The ships were already docking, but it didn’t matter. Any solid hits made the Cytherians better off, and the Cashormins were worse.

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At the end of the day, Jace was pleased. Commander Kator had informed him that his new strategy worked, and well. In fact, he had been ordered to employ it in all following battles. Tomorrow would be a good day. He would use his strategy, and like every day, the battle would end. Then he would continue, and somewhere in the future, he would go home.

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“SIR!” A violent whisper shook through Captain Jace Harran’s little home, which was more like a cubicle, in the Division Four area of the city. He awoke, and looked around. It was dawn. His night watch wasn’t for another hour. He looked over to see a horrified Lieutenant Keth.

“Gods, Keth, what is it?!?” Jace demanded.

“Captain Harran, sir, you had better come see this, quickly!”

They ran up to the battlements. It was still too dark, and as Jace looked out over the horizon, he couldn’t see any ships. He smiled.

“Keth! THERE AREN’T ANY SHIPS! WE’RE FINISHED! THE WAR IS OVER!” He called out, still quiet so that he wouldn’t disturb the men. Lieutenant Keth was aghast.

“Sir, no sir.”

“Keth,” Jace chuckled, “I know that you have the best eyes in the division, but look! There aren’t any ships!”

“Sir, please watch.”

Calmly, Jace turned toward the horizon. The sun was rising. It slowly grew lighter, and lighter. After a few minutes, Jace could see.

“COMMANDER KATOR!!!!”

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Half an hour later, every troop in Cythera was in the courtyard below the eastern wall, the wall that faced the sea. All the higher ranking officers, and Lieutenant Keth were on the wall, staring horrorstruck at the sea.

Before them, the entire horizon was a line of ships. At least fifteen thousand men were sailing toward them, and would arrive in three hours.

“Commander Kator, sir, Cademia will fall. I have a plan.” The fifth division captain, Captain Fenor said, “We leave one division here, of the bravest men. Then the rest go inland, and wait for the Cashormin army. When the Cashormins come, they will be tired and worn. We will be strong, and will attack. Then we will have a chance of defeating a sizable portion of their army. The rest of us can lure them to Pnyx, were the Mages may aid us in their destruction.”

Commander Kator took a moment to think. “I do not like abandoning a city, but you are right in this aspect, Fenor. We must think about the war, not just this battle. Is there a Captain here who will lead the men in their defense of Cademia?”

Without hesitation, Captain Jace Harran spoke up. “I will. This battle will be my undoing, but it will give the rest of you time. That time might allow you to save the people that matter... my wife, my son. You go. I will round up volunteers. We will hold the Cashormins for as long as we can. Good luck, Commander.”

“No, Jace. It is you who need the luck. I think I speak for every man in this army, when we say that you have become a hero today.”

“No, sir, Commander. I will not be a hero until every last Cashormin is dead.” At this, a roar erupted from the troops. When they quieted, Commander Kator dismissed them, and they went off to prepare for travel... or death.

-----

Captain Jace Harran had one and a half divisions of volunteers to use, to defend the city of Cademia. It was not a fair fight, seventeen thousand men against one hundred and fifty was not quite a fair fight, but Jace was doing everything he could to make it that way. Half a division, including the entire Unit Three from Division Four was posted on archery, and had thoroughly been prepared with the strategy that Jace had developed the day before. The rest were equipped for foot combat, ready at the south gates. The remainder of the Cytherian army was long gone, and would not be found in Cademia.

Jace stood on the wall with the archers, watching as the ships drew closer, and closer... Jace called the order to fire, and then ran down the steps to the gate. “OPEN IT!” He called to the gate keeper as he ran, and the gate slowly creaked upward. Still running, Jace joined the ranks of the men, drawing his long sword. They headed for the beach, where the Cashormin troops were already rushing towards them. Jace’s sword flashed in the morning sun, and then the tsunami of troops hit the tide pool. Within moments, the entire division of foot soldiers had been surrounded.

Meanwhile, up on the wall, things were going much better. The orders to the archers had been to take down any ship they could, especially any carrying troops. This was no normal day. Though by the time the gate had opened, two ships were already sinking to their watery grave, there were ten thousands more ready to destroy the struggling ground troops. Once all ships had unloaded, the warships were down, the archers were to draw their close combat weapons and come to the aid of the foot soldiers. That time was drawing closer than ever.

The group was surrounded, but they fought without end. Left and right, they slashed and jabbed. Blades flew and flashed, men fell and others surged forward to take their place. Those volunteers fought harder than ever, and were immensely powerful. Had it been a regular battle, it would have been over in moments, but this was no ordinary battle. The Cashormins never stopped coming. The numbers dwindled, and it was very fortunate that the gate opened halfway, and let out all the archers at the exact moment when it did.

The archers had accomplished their first goal, and moved to attempt the impossible second. The gate opened only half way. It gave the archers enough time to get out, and let no one in. By the time the gate had slammed down, all but five archers were dead. Yet, it gave time for the next part of the plan to work effectively. The remaining foot soldiers all took torches, and lit them. Then running for the boats, they set the entire Cashormin fleet ablaze. Though it saved none of their lives, it would prevent the Cashormins from taking any route other than the route of land, the route that would ensnare them in the trap of Commander Kator, and the remainder of the Cytherian army.

Backed by the blaze, Jace and the other surviving volunteers were trapped. They could not retreat now, with the Cashormins, probably thirteen thousand men still living, rushing at them, full speed. The men roared with laughter and hate towards the Cytherians to whom they had caused such grief, such toil, such pain. There were many men who would never see their families again, not because the Cashormins hated the Cytherians, but because the Cashormins wanted to use the Isle of the Elements in a war. Well, the Cashormins got a war, and so did the Cytherians. With as much hate, as much anger and as much passion as Jace could muster, he took his bloody sword and began charging to meet the enemy line. The volunteers followed behind him, willing to give their lives so that others might be given a chance through their sacrifice. The Cashormins did not think the same way. They slaughtered without mercy. Jace struck one down, and cut another’s legs from beneath him. He was as good as dead, he would be trampled by the hordes. Another lost an arm before being stabbed in the back, and the next was decapitated. Jace was caught in a tight spot, almost to the city walls, and a pack of soldiers were closing in. Jace stabbed left and ducked a flail. With a slash right two fell, and then another. Jace jumped, and rolled. Killing another, he turned. Jace stopped. Feeling a warm, painful sensation in his chest, he saw that he was covered in blood, crushed by a mace. There, in a dark nook by the walls of Cademia, Captain Jace Harran, of the 4th Cytherian Division sank into darkness, on the 5th Halimath, in the 82nd year in the rule of Alaric.

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From all over Cythera, the pyre that was the burning fleet could be seen. To the soldiers waiting in the fields just twenty miles north of Cademia, it was a sign of warning. It was the city burning, their doom coming, the battle at their doorstep. To Alaric, in his mountain home, it signified the reality of modern war, that soon Cythera, that had been isolated for so long would be assimilated into an Empire, and tossed from lord to lord until the end of time. To Commander Kator, patiently waiting for his time to fight, the smoke signified the bravery, and death of those men, who fought for true honor, under the command of Captain Jace Harran.

[This message has been edited by moderator (edited 06-10-2004).]

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