The bravest fight

Riley continued to fight, despite grievous injuries. His focus was unmatched, his fury boundless. The eerie light fought with shadows, and his flying horse was an able companion through the rabid pace of the battle.

Several times he'd leapt from his mount's back, to land on one of Beast's heads and attack it directly, or to race between its legs into a brief blind spot to limit its mobility by slashing at its sturdy feet.

But with risks, often came consequences. A wound across his forehead bled heavily into his eyes, impeding his vision. He'd hastily ripped some fabric from his shirt for a makeshift headband to keep the blood flowing to a more convenient location, but that was a temporary fix at best. He couldn't last forever. 

The horse had flown in to rescue him each time he thought his life was spent, drawing him up and out of the Beast's immediate reach before plunging back into the heart of the conflict.

Well, the ground-based part, anyway. Riley glanced upward.

The airborne combat between the tenebrous dragon and the figure of light raged onward, with no end in sight. But of course, his sight was blurred by the blood and he couldn't look directly at the Sorcerer either.

But the words he'd heard during his hallucination stayed with him. The battle is nearly over, he told himself. Keep fighting until its end.

No matter what end.

As Beast's third head fell to the ground, he felt a gruesome sense of accomplishment. Assuming the monster would finally die when all its heads lay on the ground, Riley was almost halfway to his goal of slaughtering the creature. 

"You're looking better all the time!" He taunted the evil being.

Three heads. One for each of his two scouts that Beast had lured to abandon him at their initial meeting.

The third for Kyler.

Riley's stomach clenched. His younger brothers were his responsibilities. He'd been left in charge when his father died. He'd failed. He couldn't keep the darkness out of his brother, and Beast stole him away.

No. Kyler walked away. And then tried to kill Shayn.

Riley had both hoped and dreaded to face Kyler on this killing field, this broken city of death, for that's all it would ever be.

Nothing could be rebuilt here, surely. Even if the victory was won, there was too much loss of life, too much destruction, to ever amount to anything but a grotesque memorial to the dead.

Beast's remaining heads turned to him in unison, eyes blazing with hatred that would freeze any normal man's soul on the spot.

But Riley's soul was on fire, burning with the righteous rage that demanded he advance against the enemy to his last breath.

Leaning forward, he plunged his sword into one of Beast's eyes, though his horse almost lost a wing to some razor-sharp fangs in the process. The blade stuck and Riley yanked it back, nearly losing his grip on the slippery blood-covered hilt.

Adrenaline fueled his quest to keep his weapon, and as the horse moved onward, a disgusting squelching noise accompanied the sword's pull to freedom.

"Battle sounds are just the worst," He said to his horse as they dodged a diving gargoyle. "I'll probably lose my appetite for days over that!"

He paused. "Unless Ashley makes those little sweet bean paste-filled rice pockets. Those are really good."

His horse turned her head to glance at him, and he could swear she rolled her eyes at him!

"You don't understand. If we make it out of this alive, I'll feed you some, and then you'll see," He assured the animal.

The flying horse snorted and rolled out of the path of a volley of arrows.

"Stupid goblins, firing from the shadows," Riley whined, "Someone ought to teach them a lesson. If only I weren't otherwise occupied–"

The horse snorted again. Clearly she didn't appreciate his humor. Not everyone had good taste, but as she was currently doing a rather fantastic job of helping keep him alive, he couldn't be too picky that she didn't appreciate his jokes.

"Rude." He chastised her. The goblins did need dealing with, however. He'd entrusted his officials with horns to blow if they were in need of reinforcement, to be used only in need of emergency.

Of course, wasn't all war one constant emergency?

In his personal vendetta, he'd been neglecting the leadership of his troops. In the grand scheme of things, he was one soldier under the command of the Sorcerer. He swallowed.

Pushing aside the guilt, he knew there was nothing he could change about what had already happened, but he could very well change how he proceeded forward. Overcoming Beast was for the benefit of humanity, and so he shouldn't try to accomplish victory alone.

Taking the horn from his side, he took a deep breath and blew, sounding the call to rally the troops. He took a quick stock of what he could see of Klain from this high in the air as his mount continued to dive, rise, and dodge various aerial attacks.

It was chaos below. Skirmishes all over without one united front. His forces were fractured and separated by the cracks in the earth, pockets of humans fighting for their lives alongside various otherworldly creatures. The distant call of a leviathan echoed from the direction of the lake. Who even knew what sort of battle raged there? 

A flock of golden birds dove towards Beast's heads, distracting the monster from its vendetta against Riley. 

He blew his horn again, and this time it was echoed by the replies of his captains. Each had a slightly different tone, identifying its bearer. The first to answer was cut off suddenly, and Riley inhaled swiftly, scanning for its source.

"Peter," He said to his horse, as if she knew who that was. "We need to find Peter… there!" He pointed through the turmoil downward, and the animal plunged toward the man on the ground.

Loyal, brave man that his younger brother-in-law was, Peter had maintained what looked to be the largest united group of soldiers, consisting primarily of humans, bluish rabbits with shining ears, and large white foxlike beings with many tails.

Riley's horse landed in the midst of them as the ranks moved aside to make room. The clash and clamor of battle was louder here.

"Peter!" Riley jumped down from his horse and ran forward. The rabbit creatures were short enough that he could lope over them, though the protests of displeasure alerted him that the diminutive animals did not appreciate his ignoring their presence.

"Sir!" The younger man extracted himself from the front lines, with some effort, and loped, sweating, to salute his superior officer. "We're holding here, but barely."

"You're doing the best on the field, as far as I can tell," Riley said seriously, "I'm calling the reinforcements here under your command."

"Mine, General?" Peter lapsed into using greater honorifics in military situations.

"I will lead the charge towards Beast and cut a path through the enemy. I need you to strategize from here, protecting the flanks and rear of the formation." Riley laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

With the cracks in the ground, evil was coming from all sides.

"I'm sorry we didn't get to talk strategy before the battle commenced," He gave the younger man a lopsided smile, "but I know you'll do a fantastic job."

"As have you," A deep voice from behind Riley interrupted.

The General turned, startled as he saw a familiar face from long ago.

"Father?" Riley asked, bewildered. "What are you here for… How…"

"What do you think I'm here for? I thought I raised a smarter son than that," Ashmayne teased his eldest son with a wink. "I've come, with reinforcements, to help finish what has begun."

Riley had trouble tearing his eyes away from his father's shining face, but the wave of white in his peripheral vision eventually captured his attention.

A veritable sea of human warriors, clad in gleaming white armor, had joined Ashmayne, sending The General's mind reeling. With such an army, there was an actual chance of coming through this war victorious!

Not that he'd ever doubted the Sorcerer's Will. Not a bit, really. He'd had full confidence the entire time, no one could prove otherwise!

Riley grimaced and looked at his father, whose face he hadn't seen since he was a teenager. The implications of seeing him now were manifold, but mostly, he felt like a much younger man all of a sudden. Instead of the brave, bold leader of armies, he was a child again, running through his village to catch up to his father and help him in the orchards.

Swallowing the emotion, he hardened himself. He was a man, a General, in the middle of a war, receiving much-needed reinforcements. He could act like the competent professional he often pretended to be.

"Why didn't you come sooner?" He blurted out.

"Everything at its appointed time," His father said seriously before smiling again and gesturing at the army of ghosts–were they all ghosts??-- behind him. "Our moments here are short, we must make the most of it. Let's go."

Riley nodded gravely and raised a salute. "Yes, sir!"