CJAlex
Nebulous
Just looking for an answer to the question posed in the title. This is the prologue I'm playing around with for one of my books. Additional critique is appreciated, though.
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A barrage of white smoke had been a most terrifying display of superiority. The charge of five thousand men was halted long before they reached the enemy’s fortification on the other side of the battlefield. Trapped within a cloud of fumes that left them coughing and crying out in agony, the legionaries blindly stumbled over each other in a desperate attempt to flee. The soldiers had lost all their discipline, cowardly running in every direction and breaking formation. The metal dragons in the sky flew low over the cavalry that attempted to flank the enemy, and scattered the horses with a single pass. Their riders were thrown to the ground, screaming loud enough to send shivers up Ren’s spine.
The chimera’s feline ears flinched and clamped down over his chestnut hair. His puffed tail coiled around his waist. Golden eyes squinted, but they refused to look away. The hybrid pawn looked onward, experiencing a surreal mix of terror, confusion, and awe as the travelers dismantled Almalan’s first legion. The general himself was trapped somewhere within the cloud of fumes, which was continuously replenished as the iron beasts on the other side launched volleys of smoke-tailed projectiles into the fray. It seemed that even with all their spears, swords, arrows, and horses, the great legions of Zoroastria stood no chance against the travelers. And as if to add insult to injury, not a single drop of blood had been spilt since the battle began. It was as though the travelers were taunting them.
They had all expected a battle like no other when the legions marched against them, but it seemed the Zoroastrians had greatly underestimated their opponent.
“Almalan won’t give the order to retreat,” Daran dan Ashur had concluded while steadying Sasha’s nervous shuffle by patting the destrier's neck with a gentle hand. Ren stood beside his master on the ground and took his eyes off the chaos to look up at him. The man had removed his red-feathered bronze helm. The dark red cloak behind him fluttered in the wind, and his bronze scale-mail glistened under Leo’s warm rays. The legate of the third legion, which had been standing by in reserve at the rear of the battlefield, appeared concerned as he observed what was happening.
Ren’s feline ears twitched when they picked up the cantering beat of hooves approaching from the side. He looked over to see Daran’s half-brother, Legate Khaled dan Ashur coming down the front rank of the legion. When the other general approached, Ren spied a twisted expression of grief and anger beneath the shadow of his helm. Another man rode alongside him; the general of the second legion, Legate Malik dan Akiya.
When the two generals of renown approached Ren’s master, all three of them exchanged stern expressions. Malik was the only to speak after a moment, “The empire does not tolerate failure.” With cold eyes, he looked directly at Daran. “You know what needs to be done, Ashur.”
As if the atmosphere that enveloped the third legion could darken any further with the sight of a failing campaign unfolding in front of them, Ren could almost feel the morale evaporate from the ranks of the cohorts. Heads turned downward and whispers carried. Everyone had been ready for the glorious siege of Telo Trada; but their shared dream of finally conquering Arcanaan had been shattered. When the travelers arrived from beyond the veil, everything changed. They called themselves Terrans and had offered peace, but the first legion’s general rejected it. Legate Almalan dan Naheer was insulted that a foreign army would dare stand in the way of his glory. He wanted war.
Even Ren felt frustrated over the unexpected turn of events. His hands balled into tight fists and he had to fight an overwhelming urge to curse the travelers for their untimely interference.
“Ren,” Daran said, rousing the chimera from his own settling gloom.
“Legate?” he eagerly asked.
“If the enemy is not intending to kill, then they will most likely capture our senior officers. That cannot be allowed. Do you understand what I am saying?”
The pawn nodded. “What are your orders, my lord?”
While Ren and a small detachment of Daran’s pawns raced on horseback toward the enveloping white smoke that dominated the center of the field, he prepared his mind for what he had to do. Slaying a fellow soldier on the field of battle, especially a general, was tantamount to treason for his people. Despite their mostly human disposition, chimeras like Ren and his fellow pawns were beneath mankind. They were meant to serve. Daran’s order put him in a precarious situation, but he would see the mission through to the end.
Their armor had been left behind. With a damp cloth tied around their heads—leaving a slit for their eyes to see—and wearing only their tunics, with more cloth wrapped around their arms and legs to cover their skin, Ren and the others charged into the fray. The crimson-haired Masumi and the silver-haired Sachi rode beside him. Their purple eyes focused straight ahead.
Before coming up on the outer edge of the smoke, where the rest of the first legion had been stopped, the metal dragons that had dispersed the cavaliers, returned and glided directly toward the pawns. Their stout wings did not flap, but heavy stubs on their ends pivoted back and forth. They roared like a chorus of lions and blew a torrent of wind beneath them.
Extending a hand out to his side, palm downward, Ren ordered, “Fan out!” He had seen what had happened when the dragons flew over the cavalry formations earlier. Something about the great metal beasts themselves, or something they did when passing overhead, had caused the horses to frenzy and the cavaliers to writhe in agony.
His companions separated right before two of the monsters reached their formation. Ren was the only one to maintain course, choosing to tackle whatever he was about to be hit with. If it was true that the travelers weren’t aiming to kill, then he was confident that he would survive.
Or, perhaps he was too confident. A wave of burning, searing pain tortured his skin as soon as the shadow of the dragon passed over him. His horse neighed and stopped to rear on its hind legs. Unable to hold onto the reins amidst the burning, Ren let go and then instinctively hopped up to plant both feet on the saddle. He then leapt off the side, summersaulting through the air, getting as far away as his chimeric agility would allow. When he just managed to escape from underneath the slow flying monstrosity, the burning stopped. He tumbled into a roll on the ground and then quickly recovered to his feet. He patted himself down as he stood up.
Ren was almost certain that he had been lit on fire, but his clothes had shown no signs of even being seared by a flame. When he removed one of his gloves, he saw that his skin had turned slightly pink and was still warm, but he was otherwise unburnt.
“Incredible,” he murmured to himself, understanding why the alae had been dispersed so rapidly when the dragons flew over them.
Knowing that he had little time to spare, Ren sprinted the rest of the way on foot and dived straight into the white fog. At first, he felt only an annoying tingle beneath his clothes, especially where they were loose and vulnerable to the smoke. While dodging and weaving through the panicking soldiers of the first legion, who were coughing and crying out for help, trying to stampede their way to fresh air, Ren began to feel his eyes itch. He closed one and tried to wipe away oncoming tears from the other with his gloved hand, but when he touched the exposed skin around his eye, a cold burn irritated him.
“What is this?” he wheezed, finding it suddenly hard to breathe. The inside of his throat was beginning to burn, as well. I must find the general and then get out of this!
The damp cloth was serving its purpose, but Ren knew it would not hold out for long. In mere minutes, he would be in the same pitiable state as the legionaries that were trapped in the center of the thick fog.
“Ren!”
The chimera quickly snapped his head around to see Sachi calling out to him while removing a bloodied gladius from the back of one of the officers.
“Sachi! Have you seen anyone else?”
Sachi coughed several times before nodding his head and pointing ahead of him. “I think I saw… Legate Almalan… stumble that way.”
Nodding in response, Ren replied, “Okay. Get out of here! If you see the others, tell them to regroup and wait for me outside of this stuff!”
After parting from Sachi, Ren unsheathed his own sword and forced himself to keep walking through the fog. He had begun to cough and wheeze like everyone else around him. It was hard to keep his eyes open and he had to stop several times and wipe away the tears, only to feel more burning when he rubbed his skin. His clothes had been completely compromised, with every bit of fabric that brushed against his body lighting him ablaze with a shock of cold, searing irritation.
If ice could burn like fire…, he thought. Is this really the power of the travelers?
When he finally saw the glint of Almalan’s silver-mithrium scale mail and his feathered helm through the wisps of the fog, Ren readied his gladius and made for the man from behind. Just as Daran ordered, he would kill the legendary general if it meant denying the enemy the opportunity to capture him. With the mighty legate also coughing up a fit and barely able to stand, Ren’s mission would surely be easy. But his confidence betrayed him yet again.
He saw the familiar red hair of Masumi tightly grasped in the man’s brawny hand and the bloodied blade of his sword pressed against the chimera’s throat. Masumi was trying to put pressure on a wound to his abdomen, where Almalan had clearly stabbed him.
“Ren…,” Masumi said when he saw his friend approaching. He had an apologetic look on his face, mixed with his typical nonchalant smile. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Masumi!” Ren exclaimed.
Almalan looked up to lay bloodshot and watery eyes on Ren and then pointed his sword at the him. Angrily, he stammered, “You! You’re that whorish pawn of Daran’s!” The man coughed several times. Mucus was running from his nostrils and he could hardly keep a firm grip on his gladius. “So, he’s sent his filthy animals to kill me, eh? Treason against the empire! TREASON!”
Before he could say anything else, the general dropped his sword on the ground and keeled over to vomit. He had released Masumi, too, who stumbled toward Ren and tried to breathe through his own hacking and coughing; all the while trying to keep his hands pressed over the carmine stain on his tunic.
Livid that his friend had been hurt and free to carry out Daran’s orders in whatever manner would get the job done, Ren charged forward and sent Almalan to the ground with a solid kick to the man’s face. The general was unable to retaliate, let alone keep his eyes open any longer to see what was happening. He could only frantically wave his hands in a pathetic display of self-defense.
Ren turned the blade of his sword downward and drove the cold steel into Almalan’s throat. There was a brief gargling sound as the man tried to breathe and blood spattered upward. Eventually, he stopped moving altogether and his hands fell to his sides.
With his mission accomplished, Ren dizzily spun around and cried out, “Masumi!” He stumbled back to his friend, but Masumi had collapsed and rolled onto his back before Ren could reach him. “No! Stay with me!” Ren begged.
“Ren,” Masumi started in a quiet voice, “I feel… cold.” His purple eyes were losing their gleam.
Ren broke out in a coughing fit before he could say much more. He was in sheer agony now. He could hardly think of what to do or even muster the willpower to move. His instincts were telling him to run, but he couldn’t leave his friend behind, and he didn’t have the strength to carry him out of the fog.
“I- I hate this,” Ren managed to stammer out in a fit of frustration. What is this stuff?! Is this some kind of curse?! Make it go away! The chimera could tell he was beginning to lose his mind, but there was nothing he could do. Ren was now panicking, just as the legionaries had done. Most, if not all of them, had managed to retreat. An eerie quiet had fallen over the battlefield and the mist had started to dissipate in some areas.
The chimera’s feline ears twitched and his mind began to refocus. Footsteps from behind approached quickly.
Ren quickly reached for the gladius that had been left in the fallen general, but there was a muffled shout in a foreign language before his entire body felt another burning pain. This time, however, it was far different than the misery brought by the cloud of white smoke or the skin burning sensation of the metal dragons. Every part of his body, from head to toe, inside and outside, was attacked by a thousand needles. His muscles seized up and he completely lost the freedom to move.
The pain and seizure lasted for an unbearable amount of time before it finally stopped. Ren’s muscles felt numb and his body heavily collapsed on the ground beside Masumi. His arms and legs lay limp, with all strength sapped out of them. Before he could try moving again, he felt his wrists being pulled up as several black-clad travelers surrounded him on all sides. With his hands brought close together in the small of his back, a cold metal was bound to his wrists, holding them in place. They felt like shackles, only not as heavy.
After turning his eyes up to try and see through the burning tears that still streamed down his cheeks, he glimpsed the men that were standing above him. Their faces were fully concealed behind strange masks with cylinders attached to the front; and their eyes were hidden behind a glossy, black reflection of himself. One of them leaned down and placed a small, strange-looking tube against the side of Ren’s neck and firmly pressed down. A click was heard and the chimera felt a sharp prick. He tried to struggle and move, and even shouted profanities at them, but it was useless.
Ren felt himself begin to fade in and out of consciousness. His vision stirred for a moment and then all went black.
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If, by chance, you ended up hooked... *cough*
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Prologue – The Travelers
A barrage of white smoke had been a most terrifying display of superiority. The charge of five thousand men was halted long before they reached the enemy’s fortification on the other side of the battlefield. Trapped within a cloud of fumes that left them coughing and crying out in agony, the legionaries blindly stumbled over each other in a desperate attempt to flee. The soldiers had lost all their discipline, cowardly running in every direction and breaking formation. The metal dragons in the sky flew low over the cavalry that attempted to flank the enemy, and scattered the horses with a single pass. Their riders were thrown to the ground, screaming loud enough to send shivers up Ren’s spine.
The chimera’s feline ears flinched and clamped down over his chestnut hair. His puffed tail coiled around his waist. Golden eyes squinted, but they refused to look away. The hybrid pawn looked onward, experiencing a surreal mix of terror, confusion, and awe as the travelers dismantled Almalan’s first legion. The general himself was trapped somewhere within the cloud of fumes, which was continuously replenished as the iron beasts on the other side launched volleys of smoke-tailed projectiles into the fray. It seemed that even with all their spears, swords, arrows, and horses, the great legions of Zoroastria stood no chance against the travelers. And as if to add insult to injury, not a single drop of blood had been spilt since the battle began. It was as though the travelers were taunting them.
They had all expected a battle like no other when the legions marched against them, but it seemed the Zoroastrians had greatly underestimated their opponent.
“Almalan won’t give the order to retreat,” Daran dan Ashur had concluded while steadying Sasha’s nervous shuffle by patting the destrier's neck with a gentle hand. Ren stood beside his master on the ground and took his eyes off the chaos to look up at him. The man had removed his red-feathered bronze helm. The dark red cloak behind him fluttered in the wind, and his bronze scale-mail glistened under Leo’s warm rays. The legate of the third legion, which had been standing by in reserve at the rear of the battlefield, appeared concerned as he observed what was happening.
Ren’s feline ears twitched when they picked up the cantering beat of hooves approaching from the side. He looked over to see Daran’s half-brother, Legate Khaled dan Ashur coming down the front rank of the legion. When the other general approached, Ren spied a twisted expression of grief and anger beneath the shadow of his helm. Another man rode alongside him; the general of the second legion, Legate Malik dan Akiya.
When the two generals of renown approached Ren’s master, all three of them exchanged stern expressions. Malik was the only to speak after a moment, “The empire does not tolerate failure.” With cold eyes, he looked directly at Daran. “You know what needs to be done, Ashur.”
As if the atmosphere that enveloped the third legion could darken any further with the sight of a failing campaign unfolding in front of them, Ren could almost feel the morale evaporate from the ranks of the cohorts. Heads turned downward and whispers carried. Everyone had been ready for the glorious siege of Telo Trada; but their shared dream of finally conquering Arcanaan had been shattered. When the travelers arrived from beyond the veil, everything changed. They called themselves Terrans and had offered peace, but the first legion’s general rejected it. Legate Almalan dan Naheer was insulted that a foreign army would dare stand in the way of his glory. He wanted war.
Even Ren felt frustrated over the unexpected turn of events. His hands balled into tight fists and he had to fight an overwhelming urge to curse the travelers for their untimely interference.
“Ren,” Daran said, rousing the chimera from his own settling gloom.
“Legate?” he eagerly asked.
“If the enemy is not intending to kill, then they will most likely capture our senior officers. That cannot be allowed. Do you understand what I am saying?”
The pawn nodded. “What are your orders, my lord?”
###
While Ren and a small detachment of Daran’s pawns raced on horseback toward the enveloping white smoke that dominated the center of the field, he prepared his mind for what he had to do. Slaying a fellow soldier on the field of battle, especially a general, was tantamount to treason for his people. Despite their mostly human disposition, chimeras like Ren and his fellow pawns were beneath mankind. They were meant to serve. Daran’s order put him in a precarious situation, but he would see the mission through to the end.
Their armor had been left behind. With a damp cloth tied around their heads—leaving a slit for their eyes to see—and wearing only their tunics, with more cloth wrapped around their arms and legs to cover their skin, Ren and the others charged into the fray. The crimson-haired Masumi and the silver-haired Sachi rode beside him. Their purple eyes focused straight ahead.
Before coming up on the outer edge of the smoke, where the rest of the first legion had been stopped, the metal dragons that had dispersed the cavaliers, returned and glided directly toward the pawns. Their stout wings did not flap, but heavy stubs on their ends pivoted back and forth. They roared like a chorus of lions and blew a torrent of wind beneath them.
Extending a hand out to his side, palm downward, Ren ordered, “Fan out!” He had seen what had happened when the dragons flew over the cavalry formations earlier. Something about the great metal beasts themselves, or something they did when passing overhead, had caused the horses to frenzy and the cavaliers to writhe in agony.
His companions separated right before two of the monsters reached their formation. Ren was the only one to maintain course, choosing to tackle whatever he was about to be hit with. If it was true that the travelers weren’t aiming to kill, then he was confident that he would survive.
Or, perhaps he was too confident. A wave of burning, searing pain tortured his skin as soon as the shadow of the dragon passed over him. His horse neighed and stopped to rear on its hind legs. Unable to hold onto the reins amidst the burning, Ren let go and then instinctively hopped up to plant both feet on the saddle. He then leapt off the side, summersaulting through the air, getting as far away as his chimeric agility would allow. When he just managed to escape from underneath the slow flying monstrosity, the burning stopped. He tumbled into a roll on the ground and then quickly recovered to his feet. He patted himself down as he stood up.
Ren was almost certain that he had been lit on fire, but his clothes had shown no signs of even being seared by a flame. When he removed one of his gloves, he saw that his skin had turned slightly pink and was still warm, but he was otherwise unburnt.
“Incredible,” he murmured to himself, understanding why the alae had been dispersed so rapidly when the dragons flew over them.
Knowing that he had little time to spare, Ren sprinted the rest of the way on foot and dived straight into the white fog. At first, he felt only an annoying tingle beneath his clothes, especially where they were loose and vulnerable to the smoke. While dodging and weaving through the panicking soldiers of the first legion, who were coughing and crying out for help, trying to stampede their way to fresh air, Ren began to feel his eyes itch. He closed one and tried to wipe away oncoming tears from the other with his gloved hand, but when he touched the exposed skin around his eye, a cold burn irritated him.
“What is this?” he wheezed, finding it suddenly hard to breathe. The inside of his throat was beginning to burn, as well. I must find the general and then get out of this!
The damp cloth was serving its purpose, but Ren knew it would not hold out for long. In mere minutes, he would be in the same pitiable state as the legionaries that were trapped in the center of the thick fog.
“Ren!”
The chimera quickly snapped his head around to see Sachi calling out to him while removing a bloodied gladius from the back of one of the officers.
“Sachi! Have you seen anyone else?”
Sachi coughed several times before nodding his head and pointing ahead of him. “I think I saw… Legate Almalan… stumble that way.”
Nodding in response, Ren replied, “Okay. Get out of here! If you see the others, tell them to regroup and wait for me outside of this stuff!”
After parting from Sachi, Ren unsheathed his own sword and forced himself to keep walking through the fog. He had begun to cough and wheeze like everyone else around him. It was hard to keep his eyes open and he had to stop several times and wipe away the tears, only to feel more burning when he rubbed his skin. His clothes had been completely compromised, with every bit of fabric that brushed against his body lighting him ablaze with a shock of cold, searing irritation.
If ice could burn like fire…, he thought. Is this really the power of the travelers?
When he finally saw the glint of Almalan’s silver-mithrium scale mail and his feathered helm through the wisps of the fog, Ren readied his gladius and made for the man from behind. Just as Daran ordered, he would kill the legendary general if it meant denying the enemy the opportunity to capture him. With the mighty legate also coughing up a fit and barely able to stand, Ren’s mission would surely be easy. But his confidence betrayed him yet again.
He saw the familiar red hair of Masumi tightly grasped in the man’s brawny hand and the bloodied blade of his sword pressed against the chimera’s throat. Masumi was trying to put pressure on a wound to his abdomen, where Almalan had clearly stabbed him.
“Ren…,” Masumi said when he saw his friend approaching. He had an apologetic look on his face, mixed with his typical nonchalant smile. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Masumi!” Ren exclaimed.
Almalan looked up to lay bloodshot and watery eyes on Ren and then pointed his sword at the him. Angrily, he stammered, “You! You’re that whorish pawn of Daran’s!” The man coughed several times. Mucus was running from his nostrils and he could hardly keep a firm grip on his gladius. “So, he’s sent his filthy animals to kill me, eh? Treason against the empire! TREASON!”
Before he could say anything else, the general dropped his sword on the ground and keeled over to vomit. He had released Masumi, too, who stumbled toward Ren and tried to breathe through his own hacking and coughing; all the while trying to keep his hands pressed over the carmine stain on his tunic.
Livid that his friend had been hurt and free to carry out Daran’s orders in whatever manner would get the job done, Ren charged forward and sent Almalan to the ground with a solid kick to the man’s face. The general was unable to retaliate, let alone keep his eyes open any longer to see what was happening. He could only frantically wave his hands in a pathetic display of self-defense.
Ren turned the blade of his sword downward and drove the cold steel into Almalan’s throat. There was a brief gargling sound as the man tried to breathe and blood spattered upward. Eventually, he stopped moving altogether and his hands fell to his sides.
With his mission accomplished, Ren dizzily spun around and cried out, “Masumi!” He stumbled back to his friend, but Masumi had collapsed and rolled onto his back before Ren could reach him. “No! Stay with me!” Ren begged.
“Ren,” Masumi started in a quiet voice, “I feel… cold.” His purple eyes were losing their gleam.
Ren broke out in a coughing fit before he could say much more. He was in sheer agony now. He could hardly think of what to do or even muster the willpower to move. His instincts were telling him to run, but he couldn’t leave his friend behind, and he didn’t have the strength to carry him out of the fog.
“I- I hate this,” Ren managed to stammer out in a fit of frustration. What is this stuff?! Is this some kind of curse?! Make it go away! The chimera could tell he was beginning to lose his mind, but there was nothing he could do. Ren was now panicking, just as the legionaries had done. Most, if not all of them, had managed to retreat. An eerie quiet had fallen over the battlefield and the mist had started to dissipate in some areas.
The chimera’s feline ears twitched and his mind began to refocus. Footsteps from behind approached quickly.
Ren quickly reached for the gladius that had been left in the fallen general, but there was a muffled shout in a foreign language before his entire body felt another burning pain. This time, however, it was far different than the misery brought by the cloud of white smoke or the skin burning sensation of the metal dragons. Every part of his body, from head to toe, inside and outside, was attacked by a thousand needles. His muscles seized up and he completely lost the freedom to move.
The pain and seizure lasted for an unbearable amount of time before it finally stopped. Ren’s muscles felt numb and his body heavily collapsed on the ground beside Masumi. His arms and legs lay limp, with all strength sapped out of them. Before he could try moving again, he felt his wrists being pulled up as several black-clad travelers surrounded him on all sides. With his hands brought close together in the small of his back, a cold metal was bound to his wrists, holding them in place. They felt like shackles, only not as heavy.
After turning his eyes up to try and see through the burning tears that still streamed down his cheeks, he glimpsed the men that were standing above him. Their faces were fully concealed behind strange masks with cylinders attached to the front; and their eyes were hidden behind a glossy, black reflection of himself. One of them leaned down and placed a small, strange-looking tube against the side of Ren’s neck and firmly pressed down. A click was heard and the chimera felt a sharp prick. He tried to struggle and move, and even shouted profanities at them, but it was useless.
Ren felt himself begin to fade in and out of consciousness. His vision stirred for a moment and then all went black.
© C.J. Alexander, 2017
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If, by chance, you ended up hooked... *cough*
