Whirlwind looked frantically for a way to watch the battle without becoming involved, but the mass of fighting warriors was going to make it impossible. He jumped back to the ground, grabbing among the dead the Rabel Ainian warrior closest to his size, and dragged it behind a wagon. Whirlwind quickly changed clothes into armor, then looked for a group of warriors fleeing through the holes in the walls.
"Billets out! Show no fear!" Quardraille threw two small objects into the retreating Rabel Ainian army. The ground shook with explosions as this last attack broke their will to fight against them.
"Onward! Onward! For Mortarr!" Moorysr gleefully swung his sword at anything that moved around him.
Whirlwind waited as long as he dared until the arrows stopped raining on the Arbushi and all around him. The Arbushi used their capes to shield themselves from harm as the arrows fell harmlessly to the ground.
"Billets fly!" Tiny metallic balls flew in every direction, bringing down parapets and whole sections of walls. Rabel Ainians screamed as they were buried beneath the rubble, the last thing they heard was the laughter of the Arbushi.
A spear struck Wingrath’s stallion, killing it and throwing him into a flight of stairs. Whirlwind thought he was dead, but Quardraille quickly ran over and placed his talons on Wingrath’s head. Wingrath suddenly jumped up to resume fighting, as if nothing at all had happened to him. Quardraille pulled the spear from the black stallion’s shoulder as Whirlwind watched in wonder when the horse stood waiting for its rider. Quardraille mounted the stallion and rode back into battle.
"To the tower! Destroy the city!" Quardraille raised his sword leading the Arbushi towards Gragon’s palace. They stopped short hearing the sound of trumpets and drums as a second Rabel Ainian army in full armor came forth from the ivory doors of the palace. The marble glistened in the fading light of day, yet Whirlwind marveled at the bravery of his distant cousins.
"Forward!" Quardraille ordered as a volley of arrows greeted the Arbushi, killing three as they approached. Twenty defenders ran down the street swinging battleaxes, hewing some of the Arbushi into bits of bone and feathers. Billets flew into the heart of the defending army, but many warriors remained and closed their ranks to continue the fight. Moorsyr was struck by an arrow and fell to the ground.
Whirlwind turned toward the unguarded drawbridge finding it the only safe way out. Just as he stepped on it, he heard a loud creaking behind him, and he had to stop to look. He should have kept running, but it was too late now.
"Quardraille!"Came a deafening shriek from just inside the palace. From the shadows came the huge body of Gragon in full body armor and shield. Blood flowed from the armor which made Whirlwind wonder how he could still be alive. Gragon’s grip on his broadsword was strong as he looked for Quardraille.
"Billets fly!" Quardraille threw one at Gragon, the explosion, deflected by his shield still stunned him. Gragon reeled at the force of the explosion, then staggered back into his palace. The Arbushi continued their assault, throwing billets and swinging their swords. Whirlwind noticed that there were no Arbushi bodies on the ground, but was sure some had fallen to the Rabel Ainians.
Out of the shadows, Gragon lunged, killing six Arbushi with one stroke, a look of satisfaction enveloped his face. Then, the last thing Whirlwind saw, was Gragon retreating from the explosions around him. Whirlwind turned without looking back ran across the drawbridge towards Nimbus Woods.
Safely hidden on a knoll, Whirlwind watched the conclusion of the battle. Gragon now lay dead under the rubble of his palace and some of the Rabel Ainian army were retreating into the far reaches of Nimbus Woods. Soon, the victory won, Quardraille hanged the last remaining Rabel Ainians from the parapets. Whirlwind counted the Arbushi and shook his head in disbelief finding all the warriors and stallions accounted for.
"Do not be afraid, I am with you," a voice whispered from the rocks behind him.
"Who is that?" Whirlwind peered over the rocks seeing a Rabel Ainian warrior slowly dying from his wounds. "I don’t think I’m less afraid seeing you die near me."
The Rabel Ainian looked up in confusion, then slowly closed his eyes. Whirlwind waited for the last of the warriors to pass by before daring to get up. He didn’t want to reenter the city, but where else could he go that Quardraille couldn’t find him? Inside, the once beautiful palace was leveled, still burning with smoke and ash reaching high into the clouds. Gragon lay face down in the mud, a stunned expression still on his blood-stained brow.
Quardraille was cleaning Gragon’s Crimson Sword when Whirlwind walked up to him. The Captain looked down and smiled, a curious smile seeing Whirlwind in full armor. The other Arbushi looked on him with disdain.
"Why did you not run away with the others, little toad?" Quardraille noticed the armor would have slowed him down considerably and knew the answer.
"I don’t know," Whirlwind honestly didn’t know staring at the Crimson Sword with a look of wonder. It’s blade was red and the hilt held bright red rubies..
"This is the sword of Mortarr, the Crimson Sword, the sword of death," Quardraille proudly raised it over his head. "Gragon took it in a victory long after the War of the Seven Fortresses, taunting me these many years with his possession of it. Now it is back with its rightful heir."
"It is magnifcient," Whirlwind watched as the colors changed from crimson to blood-red then to ruby red. Such a dreadful weapon, Whirlwind thought to himself.
"Magnificent? The word pales to the glory of battle this sword has been through, "Quardraille turned to Moorsyr." We celebrate tonight with the fire of Mortarr! The Corealeum!"
Whirlwind chilled at what the Corealeum might entail, but decided there was nothing else he could do. Looking around at the Rabel Ainian dead, Whirlwind was confused. Surely, he saw many of the Arbushi fall in battle and certainly, many a horse, yet all of them were accounted for even now.
"What are you looking for?" Moorsyr shook Whirlwind out of his thoughts.
"I was sure you lost, at least, ten stallions and as many warriors, but now all are well without a single wound," Whirlwind was amazed at it all.
"Aha! Worm!" Moorsyr laughed at him. "Do you yet not know the power and might given to Quardraille by Mortarr?"
