It was the dead of night when Lycus sat restless, staring into the crackling logs of the campfire deep in thought. Even on calm evenings such as this, sleep did not come easy to the man, not when the sounds of battle still rang so freshly in his ears. He needed only to close his eyes then to hear the thundering of armies as they marched onto the field. Oft times those sounds would be so vivid that the old soldier might find himself reflexively flinching, swearing that he could feel the clangor of shield walls up his arm as they battered against one another. Worst of all were the myriad cries men made at their end. From bloody skirmishes, to full on sieges, that infernal chorus of war had become all too familiar to the weary soldier.
The ceaseless battles had taken their toll on the man, but never to the point of breaking him. No, whenever his resolve had begun to falter, Lycus needed only to remind himself of the reason for all of the fighting, all of the bloodshed. It was all to unite the world under one rule. Her rule. In this he was no mere soldier. His life had been given divine purpose by the Crimson Goddess herself.
It wouldn't be long; they were meant to take the field at first light. All those months of fighting for a prize that was so close at hand. The legions cut a bloody path through this kingdom and now finally found themselves upon its capital of Myrydna. It was a jewel of a city, said to be filled with all manner of riches in excess. Soon they'd storm its walls and claim those bounties for the Goddess. They'd honor Her so.
Fervent as Lycus was to accomplish this final conquest, that body he swore to Her ached as he sat there thinking of the battle soon to come. He was only mortal, after all, and getting along in years at this point. He was not the youth he once was when he first pledged himself to Her. And yet, the old soldier needed only remember that fateful day he'd been blessed to fight alongside her. The memory of it was still fresh in his mind even all these years later.
He'd hardly been a man grown at the time, finding himself in his first proper battle. And what a battle it was. The Goddess' legions at the time were not as robust then, often finding themselves outnumbered by enemy forces. But this had been a particularly sizable mismatch.
Several smaller territories had banded their armies together into a massive force to meet them on the field that day. Just from the scout's quick estimates alone, it seemed the legions were outnumbered nearly three to one. Even so they dared not turn back. The shame of such cowardice would be far worse than death. And yet death seemed a near certainty for them that day if they took the field… Until the horns blared that is.
A silence swept over the entire camp after, and every man there fell to their knees at once, throwing their heads down to the earth. An unearthly pressure suddenly loomed, pushing them to bow that much lower at this presence. It was the Goddess Kara herself who had come, deigning to walk amongst them, her loyal subjects.
Whether her height measured in the thousands of feet or the relatively "meager" ten she was then, Kara's sheer presence alone had remained every bit as overwhelming for them.
Lycus could recall trembling at the sound of her steps as they neared, shifting his head just enough to open an eye and peer at her from his grounded perspective. All he could make out from such a position were her sandal clad feet and the greaves which adorned her leg up to the knee. What concerned him was the fact those very feet were almost of a length with his entire torso, and steadily approaching.
What a fool he had been, prostrating himself directly within her path. He should have known better. Panic gripped Lycus then over what seemed a miniscule error on his part. What should he do? To remove himself out of the way would mean moving without her express command to do so. A grave offense that would surely catch her attention. No! He could not move. But she was so close at hand, he could see her sandals kicking up dirt as they trod the earth.
What if she took offense to his placement? Or what if even more likely she didn't even pay him mind and simply trod upon him as she did the earth then? He'd break beneath just one step. That's all it would take to crush his head or snap his back. Lycus breathed in and out, desperately trying to calm himself when her right foot landed inches away from his head. Close enough that he might examine toes longer than his own fingers and twice as thick.
The foot itself was wider than his head. She might have easily ended him with that same step, but by luck or mercy he'd been spared such. Kara stepped over him after, continuing on her path to the front of the camp as if Lycus weren't even there.
"Rise" she commanded them upon reaching her destination. The men obeyed, quickly jumping to their feet to await her address.
"I am told the rabble have banded together." Her harsh voice echoed through the camp, "That they felt the need to aid each other so says much of their worth as warriors… These are not men before us, and I will not have you think of them as such. These are cowards standing in your way. In my way. We will show them the might of Polithea. Of your Goddess. And they will sorely regret standing against us this day…" She let that hang in the air a moment before concluding with one final statement. "I will take the field with you. Now, prepare."
An eruption of cheers raised up as soon as she finished. All manner of praises. Lycus himself remembered joining in chants of Ka Ra, Ka Ra along with his fellow soldiers. The Goddess would fight alongside them. What felt a near suicidal proposition had turned to a joyous occasion. Their spirits were high as the battle preparations recommenced.
It wasn't long after that they marched out to the field and formed their ranks. As befitting one of his meager experience in battle at the time, Lycus had been given what would oft times be an unenviable position at the front. That day though, he would not have been content anywhere else.
The lines parted when the Crimson Goddess stepped out onto the field. She said nothing, but her presence alone had bolstered the men more than any rallying cry could. An icy determination was clear on her face as she finally donned her great helm, its brilliant red crest standing high above the lines.
When she extended an open hand, attendants rushed over to bring the Goddess her weapon. Her great cudgel was far heavier than any mortal man could hope to wield, and just as tall as many. Its head had two sides: one a hammer to bludgeon her foes and the other a ghastly pick that could puncture any armor.
With heads bowed the attendants placed the great weapon within her upturned palm. An eruption of cheers broke out after when she raised it into the air with astonishing ease. The very same hammer that had just taken two fully grown men to carry to her. After, she held it out in front of her and began to stamp the earth with its pommel.
Lycus swore he could feel it again just as he did that day, clashing shield and sword in rhythm with his Goddess. His heart raced in anticipation as entire legions joined in. Again chants of her name broke out through the clangor. After long his thirst for battle seemed unquenchable. Gone were any concerns he had over the size of the enemy forces. Polithea could not lose. Not with her there.
Kara walked the lines, stoking them on with the same rhythmic thumping of her handle and gritting her teeth at them. She goaded them into an animalistic state, thumping more and more until finally… she stopped. The men who had been all but foaming at the mouth a moment ago silenced at once. Again the Goddess raised her great hammer into the air, only this time pointing it towards the enemy lines. She had not even needed to give the command aloud. The men understood. They let out one last cacophonous war cry and broke into a full charge.
That bloodlust then was like nothing Lycus had ever experienced. Charging headlong into a force that vastly outnumbered his own without second thought. None of that mattered to him, nor to any man there. It made no sense for them to do this against such odds, and yet it felt as if it were the only thing to do.
Their resolve soared ever higher when the Goddess herself broke past their lines as she reached full speed. They let up a cheer seeing her bound across the field. The powerful muscles in her legs pushed her with an inhuman fury towards the enemy. Lycus could only imagine what those on the opposing front lines must have thought seeing her rushing them at full tilt.
They didn't have long to mull it over. When the Goddess was right on top of them she did not stop. She barely even slowed down. Lycus remembered the sight then. How she rushed through their ranks as if they weren't even there. The force of her body alone had been greater than the charging of calvary.
Men simply shattered against the corded muscle that formed her powerful legs. She ran through, trampling any poor sod who stumbled and found themselves beneath her. By the time she stopped, Kara had smashed through an entire formation and then some, leaving a trail of broken bodies where once ranks of soldiers stood. The enemy moved to fill in the massive gap she had torn through them.
Hundreds of enemy soldiers surrounded the Goddess then, but she was by no means outmatched. Lycus could still easily spot her as he charged, standing proudly above them. He could also see how the enemy troops reformed what semblance of a line they could before cautiously advancing towards her. With shields aligned and spears in hand, they hoped to both cover themselves and nullify her considerable reach advantage. Kara stood her ground, letting them inch closer, even going so far as to open her stance ever so much to lure them in. They took the bait. An especially jumpy group saw their target, locking onto her exposed torso.
With furious shouts they thrust their spears at Kara, hoping to spill her divine blood across the field with a merciless flurry of attacks. The delirium of battle took hold of them as they continued the onslaught, not noticing how unaffected the Goddess was. It wasn't until one of the spear shafts literally snapped against her toned body, splintering apart and sending its misshapen head flying off, that the attack ceased.
The soldiers trembled before her then, their grips loosening just a bit, and their shield arms feeling that much heavier. All those thrusts and there wasn't even a scratch on her. They remained in formation, but one thing was made clear to them then.
She was the wall, not them.
They remained frozen in place, unable to even make a move. Planting her foot into the earth, the Goddess made one for them. In one lightning fast motion she took a free arm and pushed the remaining spears from her path before lifting up her great hammer for a strike. The stance she took then was wide and low. They could see the power build up in her limbs, coursing through her veins as she wound back. Every muscle in her arms and legs tensed just before swinging the massive block of metal directly at them.
The results were as gruesome as expected, but no less disheartening for them. The first man she made contact with had feebly raised his shield, hoping to protect himself from the attack. But that was a foolish notion.
When the blow landed it caved the shield inward, shattering every bone in the soldier's arm and then some, quite literally rupturing the limb into a ghoulish spray. The force of the blow continued through what was left of the limp lump of flesh and slammed straight into his chest then. Breastplate and sternum both crumpled at once with a sickening thud. It was still not over. The poor sod found himself carried along with the swing, smashing through five other men before sending them all careening through the air into their fellow soldiers and landing in a broken heap.
That brutal display of power had been enough for many to turn tail, dropping their weapons and hoping to get away from that demon of a woman. But the Goddess did not see fit to allow such cowardice. She contempted it so.
Whether they attempted to flee or stood their ground, it made no difference to the Goddess. If they were close at hand they could join the macabre dance of her onslaught. The sheer brutality of her flurry then had been staggering. An animalistic fury seemed to flow through her and yet, if one looked closer they could see how focused that rage was. She kept it reigned in just enough, focused on all of those around. A skill only a lifetime of combat could hone. Every swing of her weapon collected new victims. Each stroke flinging broken bodies to and fro.
One particularly brave soul attempted to rush her while she focused on other prey. The fool caught a gauntleted backhand that cracked his jaw in two for his trouble. He was barely stumbling back to his feet by the time she was upon him. With gritted teeth she lifted the hammer up and brought it straight down on him. He all but exploded into a crimson rain that covered the Goddess even more. Her moniker seemed so apropos then.
That was the last Lycus saw of her for a time. He himself was finally coming upon the enemy. With shortsword in hand he slashed and stabbed at any that stood before him. The fighting had been ugly, but they made progress. Lycus and the rest may not have had even a fraction of the Goddess' power, but she had instilled such a fervor in them that they fought with a singular focus. Unfortunately, even that seemed to wane in the face of the sheer numbers disadvantage.
One by one Lycus noticed his fellow men begin to fall, but he refused to lose his composure. He fought on, yelling and cursing and spitting between every break in the onslaught. Still more allies fell. But he would not take a step back.
By the time the last of his fellow soldiers nearby fell, Lycus found himself fighting desperately against four other men. He'd turtled up behind his shield, shifting and turning to try and stave off their attacks at any exposed weakness. One still managed to nick the back of his right leg. He faltered but a moment, finding his resolve at the feeling of warm blood trickling down his limb. Lycus surprised them with a sudden flurry, bashing one to the ground with his shield and slashing another's throat, threading his sword between their helmet and breastplate.
The other two standing there rushed him in turn, stumbling over their fallen friend and crashing into Lycus, who tried to stay upright with all his might. He was a man possessed, refusing to go down. Gripping his sword and shield tight, he pushed them back and made the most of the narrow opportunity. He stabbed the sword directly into one but lost his grip on the weapon as it stuck into them. The other made a swing of their own but he simply locked his arm around theirs and let gravity do the rest.
Lycus stumbled over to the ground with both bodies landing right on top of him, knocking the wind out from his lungs for a moment. His arm was pinned beneath the one stuck with his sword, but the other very much remained a threat. It was an awkward struggle to say the least, one in which Lycus was at a distinct disadvantage both on his back and down an arm. He would not give in though.
He clawed and gouged and raked at the other man, not letting them even a moment to attack; all the while desperately trying to pull his pinned arm free. It was a struggle to do so while keeping attacks at bay. It wasn't until he balled up a fist and got a clean hit in that he was given just enough breathing room to shift his arm free, deftly grabbing the dagger sheathed on his waist in the same motion. With a death grip he seized the other soldier and buried the knife in his throat. They collapsed onto him in an instant, seeping a warm crimson as they kept him in place.
Against all odds, Lycus was alive… but so very exhausted, hardly even able to move with the bodies piled on him. The rush that had pulled him through all that was finally starting to wear off. He'd thought perhaps he might take a quick rest to catch his breath before attempting to push his way out, but he had forgotten something.
The man he had bashed to the ground stirred, rising to his feet and seeing his allies all dead around the still breathing Lycus. He reached down for a weapon. Lycus himself pulled the knife from the dead man's neck and held it out in front of himself as far as he could manage, feeling at the time that this very well would be his end.
The enemy soldier yelled and raised his sword up with both hands. At the time Lycus closed his eyes and asked his Goddess for forgiveness before accepting the end. The end did not come though. Instead he felt an unexpected sensation after. No sharp pain, no oblivion, just the warm spray that dabbed his face. When Lycus opened his eyes again, he saw the soldier who had meant to kill him still standing there, only slack jawed and dropping his sword to the ground with a clang. It wasn't until he looked down that he noticed the great metal spike bursting out of their chest. Lycus couldn't believe it.
From the ground he stared up to see the Goddess lift both her great hammer and the soldier along with it. The man's head slumped over as she raised them up, arms and legs swaying limply while suspended there. She removed them, tossing the body aside without an ounce of effort. It flew several meters away onto a pile of its former brethren.
She'd saved him…
Lycus would never forget the sight of her then. With the sun at her back she glistened with blood and sweat dripping down her body in thick rivulets, looking every bit the Goddess of War. He was nearly drawn to tears when her gaze turned down towards him after. His throat tightened, not knowing whether he should praise and thank her or simply keep his mouth shut.
The flicker of The Goddess's eyes behind the dark pits of her great helm hypnotized Lycus as she seemed to survey the scene. She clearly took note of the bodies strewn about. Those he had managed to slay before being overwhelmed that is. It seemed to please her. At least he hoped it did. In truth, what part of her face that wasn't cast in cold inscrutable metal was stone, not imparting even a hint of her intention.
He winced when she lowered herself after. Reaching down towards him, a hand larger than his head grabbed firm hold of his breastplate and forcibly lifted him up. As if he'd weighed nothing at all she pulled Lycus out from under the bodies that buried him and stood him back on his feet before returning to her full height.
She loomed over him after, his head barely coming up to her lower abdomen. That blood and sweat he saw earlier looked so much ghastlier then up close. He could literally smell the iron tinge wafting from her abs then. He couldn't take his eyes off them. Not until The Goddess herself snapped him out of it.
With a massive hand she cupped his chin and tilted his gaze up to meet her own. He trembled at her divine touch, feeling her grasp and realizing just how easily she might crush him then and there if she wanted. Instead The Goddess simply sneered down at him.
The battle around them had long seemed to disappear for Lycus, lost in his seemingly private audience with the Goddess. But it all came flooding back to him after she gave but one resounding command.
"Fight."
With just one word it all came rushing back. The noise of battle all around him seemed almost deafening then. At that, the Goddess turned and flung herself back into the fray. As if on instinct alone Lycus jumped to follow, forgetting his exhaustion and grabbing whatever weapons he could from the many bodies littering the earth around him. He fought as man possessed once again, emboldened that much more by her singular command.
When all was said and done her legions had won the day… All thanks to her, of course. She had turned nigh impossible odds into a grand victory, one that would be celebrated for a long time to come. Many honors would be handed out that day to exemplary soldiers, with Lycus himself earning more than a few. But those trinkets had meant little to him in comparison to the greatest honor of all.
She had noticed him.
The Goddess had taken the time to save Lycus, to look him in the eye, and to even address him directly. That was no commonplace occurrence, and far better a reward than any honor they could pin to his breastplate. A cherished memory he could hold onto for life.
A memory that he had found himself finally slipping out of as the first light of dawn eked out over the mountainsides. He'd spent all night reminiscing again… and with the battle so soon at hand, it would be a long day…
…
Reinforcements had bolstered the Myrydnan's forces far more than anticipated. They had enough men to send out several legions of their own to meet the Politheans out on the field. Though, the main number of Myrydnan troops held within the city proper, manning its walls and fortifying the main roadway while those in the field bought them more time. A shrewd use of men's lives, Lycus had to admit just before the day's first clash.
The day had been long. So fierce was the ensuing fighting that Lycus found himself alternated between the front and a moment's respite in the backlines several times already. Each rotation exacted a grim price, claiming a number of the men he'd originally fought alongside as its toll.
While recuperating in the backline once more, Lycus took some time to survey the battle. They were gaining ground, but the true difficulty of this campaign's final push was not here in the field, but beyond. A ways down passed the fighting he could see Myrydna's walls. They'd be a great hurdle to overcome, but one with such ample reward waiting just beyond. Both riches immeasurable and bountiful land to claim in her name. Aside from that day fighting alongside the Goddess, this would surely be the greatest victory Lycus had ever taken part in. They just needed to push through.
It was as the fighting went on that Lycus noticed it at first. All encompassing as the din of battle was then, he'd felt something all too familiar from below. When it happened again, yet more men had taken notice. Then it happened a third time. And a fourth time. And so on. The sensation grew steadily to the point that the battle itself suspended for a moment.
She was close.
The Polithean forces let up a cry before blindsiding the still bewildered Myrydnans, cutting them down with a newly bolstered ruthlessness. Lycus however, had remained in the backlines still, instead turning himself to watch for her arrival.
As the tremors intensified the sight of her finally broke the horizon. Standing several thousands of feet tall, the Goddess Kara crossed over the mountains themselves, treating them as minor encumbrances. That first step she took into the valley proper sent quakes radiating out towards the armies. Lycus held firm, if only just so. Others, both enemy and ally alike, were caught off guard and tumbled to the ground. The Goddess gave them no reprieve from the rumbling as she began thundering towards them.
Shaken as he was, Lycus was still elated to see her then. There'd been no talk that the Goddess would join the fray, but he was overjoyed at the prospect. Once more he'd be blessed to fight alongside her, only this time in her full divine might, stretching into the very clouds it seemed.
Lycus joined the others in their frenzy, running towards the enemy, even while stumbling from her footfalls. When her long shadow finally stretched over him, Lycus felt the full fervor of serving in her name. He'd cut a man down then turn back to look upon her, as if she might personally pick him out of the thousands and notice his zeal. As if each man slain then were a gift to her. One slashed. He turned to see her in full glory still. A second cut down. Now he needed to crane his neck a bit more. When the third was bleeding out on the ground before him, she was so close that he could only see partially up her legs.
By the time Kara was nearly there, Lycus could see the fear in so many eyes. The enemy turned tail and ran as best they could through the tremors, mortified at the sight of the great Goddess. Lycus rallied the men around him then, feeling his bloodlust rise as he made to cut down the cowards as they ran. But he was cut short. The next booming step staggered him. It was only then that he realized that the Goddess wasn't stopping her march forward.
The shock of the resulting impact sent Lycus to the ground, nearly knocking the wind from the old soldier, but that was far from the worst of it. Only after stumbling back to his feet did he piece together that she had stepped right into their supporting lines, crushing an unfathomable number of her own men in the process.
Why?
It was all he could ask himself, staring dumbstruck at the massive sandal resting there in the middle of so many soldiers. Craning his neck up as far as he could, Lycus could barely even see part way up her shin anymore. It was then he felt her other limb rouse. The air itself yielded to the Goddess' movements, stirring all around him, and growing nearly into a gale when she started to take another step. Her sandal soared overhead after.
Lycus was frozen, only able to watch as the tread moved through the air above with a ponderous might. By the time it finished it hung over large sections of both armies, all the while pelting them with a flurry of stone. Entire chunks of earth fell from the tread and down onto the ranks beneath her, claiming hundreds of lives before the step was even done.
When her heel touched down first, Lycus flashed white seeing the sandal hang there for a moment. He knew what came next, closing his eyes after, not wanting to see the end. The rest of her foot crashed down, instantly silencing thousands and thousands of screaming voices. Lycus felt nothing… Nothing beyond sudden weightlessness and the rush of wind around him. He crashed hard back into the earth shortly after.
He lay motionless a moment, Lycus himself not even believing his own miraculous survival. That's when the white hot pain shot up his body, radiating from his left arm. He tried moving the throbbing limb, only to realize then that the fall must have broken it. And yet, that might be considered very fortunate when compared to so many others.
As he attempted to pick himself up out of the dirt, Lycus coughed at the cloud of dust that still hung overhead from the impact. With the arm that still worked he rubbed tears from his eyes, hoping to get a bearing of the scene around him. It was all a blur until the cloud finally dissipated, and he was met with such a terrible scene.
Bodies were strewn everywhere; some dead, some broken, and others yet such as Lycus managing to crawl to their feet. Rubbing more dust from his stinging eyes, he turned his attention upwards. The sheer enormity of her sandal tread then was such that it stretched as far as he could see in both directions, and stood higher than the city walls he had meant to storm.
He realized then that the only reason he had miraculously survived was dumb luck. Lucky to not find himself crushed under her tread. Lucky to not have broken his neck after being flung in the shockwave of impact. And lucky once more to not have been swallowed whole into the earth by the fissures snaking their way around her sandal then. But why?
Lycus had to ask himself. Had the Goddess even seen them? Surely she didn't, completely unaware that so many of her own faithful lay crushed under her. But what if she had? What could they have done to displease her so that she would callously wipe away so many? They weren't questions he would ever get answers to.
Instead the earth began to tremble beneath him once more as suddenly the sandal tread began to move towards him. Those closer to it rushed to get out of the way as it tore through the earth, dragging right over hundreds more who had survived the previous disaster.
When Lycus attempted to stand his legs merely gave out from under him. The sandal continued on, pushing through the earth and smearing many more survivors beneath it until it was nearly on top of him. From pure desperation alone the old soldier lifted up an arm to stop the onslaught. To his shock, it worked… or at least, the sandal had stopped on its own. His luck had held through once again.
Lycus sat up, his chest feeling heavy from the shock of so many near death experiences in such short order. Looking up past the mound of furrowed earth before him, he saw the sandal that much closer. It dawned on him then that he'd nearly been killed by a mere shift in her stance. What was an unnoticed movement on her part had resulted in the end for hundreds of others like him.
It was while trying to come to grips with that sobering fact that Lycus found himself nearly blinded and deafened without warning. A tortured metal whine pierced the air with a brilliant flash, filling the entire valley with an all encompassing scream. Covering his ears did nothing to make that awful sound any less unbearable. It was all Lycus could do to hunch over there, trying to cower away from the merciless assault on his senses. Before long he could feel a wave of heat hit him there. Through an outstretched hand he opened his eyes as much as he might physically manage, knowing full well what he would see.
The Goddess wrought her terrible judgment upon the city. Her wrath took the form of superheated death that she thoroughly rained down on them with her gaze alone. Lycus could only imagine the horror for those actually in the city. Wherever the beams dragged through the earth, a chorus of unceasing explosions followed. She'd give only brief respites between blasts. Holding them in just long enough that they might think she would finally show mercy, only to vaporize countless more in the next onslaught. Soon enough crimson streaks of lighting arced through the billowing plumes of heavy smog and soot that covered the city.
Lycus merely sat there watching the apocalyptic event unfold. That city the Goddess was so thoroughly annihilating was meant to be her prize. These long months on the campaign, all the battles, all the wear and tear on his body was supposed to lead to glory in her name. He sat there in silence, watching that very same glory go up in hellfire. Before long, Lycus found himself staring directly into the crimson light itself, feeling nothing.