Chapter 25: The Battle of Ember Ravine, Part 1
The Wardens moved like iron poured into human shapes, shields up, torches cutting holes in the fog, boots hammering the stone floor of the ravine in a rhythm that rattled Elias's ribs. He crouched low at the ridge, spear braced, Rook pressed tight at his knee. The hum of their march wasn't just noise, it was Threads vibrating, armor resonating against wards, discipline itself turned into a frequency, and Elias could feel it tightening, pulling taut like a drum about to split.
Then the first mine sang.
A sharp pitch spiked through his Resonance Sense a heartbeat before the ground heaved, a dull thump followed by a roar that cracked stone and fire both. The first two ranks vanished in a gout of dirt and flame, screams echoing as shards of steel bit into flesh, the torchlight shattered, shadows dancing wild.
"Now," Hale snapped, voice cold as a hammer striking iron.
Noll's ward dropped, smoke and soil rushing up in a choking wave. Lysera's illusion bent the smoke sideways, turning it into walls, blinding half the column as they staggered. Elvi's first arrow found a horn carrier, the shaft splitting his throat before the sound could rise. The second horn lifted and her next arrow pinned the man's wrist to his own shield, his scream cut short as Thorek's hammer came down with a laugh that rolled like thunder.
The ravine shook with the crash, iron on iron, men pressed tight by stone walls suddenly jammed like grain in a mill chute. Hale was in the front, spear darting, eyes sharp, every thrust finding a seam in armor. Elias slid down beside him, Resonance Sense humming, the battlefield unfolding in notes only he could hear.
"Left push, two ranks," Elias barked, and Hale shifted just as three shields shoved forward. Thorek braced, hammer rising in a brutal arc that cracked the first shield apart, wood splinters flying. The Wardens reeled, discipline straining but not breaking.
Elvi ghosted along the flank, arrows hissing, each one puncturing torchlight or horn before it could call the next wave. Lysera's veils bent sight, turned shapes into ghosts, one soldier stabbing at a shadow until Hale's spear caught him under the arm.
"Ward steady," Elias called, glancing back at Noll.
The boy's arms trembled, sweat dripping, but his ward hummed with resonance, holding back the loose echoes of Thorek's mines from chaining into another blast. Elias sent a pulse, a commander's drumbeat, and Noll's ward steadied, his breathing falling into rhythm.
The Wardens regrouped faster than expected. The second rank locked shields, torches raised high, their chant rising low and steady, not words but rhythm, the sound of men refusing panic. They pushed as one, forcing the choke, spears stabbing through smoke.
"Brace," Hale barked, and he and Thorek locked shoulders, dwarf hammer meeting iron, Hale's spear darting like a serpent. The clash rang out sharp, a wall of steel slamming against the rebel line.
Rook darted low, silver eyes flashing, jaws closing on an ankle that buckled under his weight. He ripped a man down and darted back before the spears closed, fur bristling, growl vibrating in his chest.
Elias stepped in, Resonance Sense catching the pitch of their shields. He sent a hum down his spear, vibrating the wood until the point buzzed, then stabbed low into a shield rim. The resonance carried, shields shaking, fingers slipping, three men cursing as their grips betrayed them. Hale didn't waste the moment, his spear punched through the gap, and Thorek's hammer slammed the rest into a tangle of bodies.
"Ha!" the dwarf bellowed, beard soaked in sweat, grin wild. "Sing louder, lads!"
But the Wardens did not break. Trained men, drilled to fight in order, they fell back one step, shields up, then surged again with another chant.
Elias grit his teeth, the hum in his chest warning him. This wasn't the army, this wasn't even their main strength. It was a probe, a first push, and they were already pressing harder than the Ashborn could afford.
"Elvi, eyes," Hale snapped.
She loosed two arrows, torch bearers dropping, the ravine falling into thicker dark. Lysera spread a veil wide, a false shimmer of light ahead of the Wardens that pulled their thrusts into air. The trick bought seconds, but only seconds.
The second mine sang, dirt and fire tearing the ravine's flank, bodies scattering. The explosion was bigger than the first, fragments raining like steel hail, even the Ashborn flinched though Noll's ward soaked the worst. Elias's ears rang, his Resonance Sense buzzing sharp, but through it he felt the enemy line break uneven, order wobbling.
"Push them," Elias shouted, voice raw. "Now!"
Hale surged, Thorek slammed, Rook leapt, and Elias cut through the front line with spear humming like a saw. Two men fell, then three, and for a moment it looked like the choke would hold, like the ambush would bleed them dry before they regrouped.
But the horns blew.
Not the ones Elvi had silenced, deeper horns, farther back, carrying across Thornveil like iron dragged over stone. Elias felt it before he heard it, the Loom itself vibrating, more Threads marching, disciplined, ready.
Through the fog beyond the ravine, torches flared higher, dozens, maybe more. He saw shield lines forming, a glowing signal pole lifted above the heads of armored men. The sound of boots rolled heavier, steadier, like thunder that did not break.
Elias swore under his breath. "Shit. That wasn't the army. That was their fucking scouts."
The others heard the horns, saw the torches, and tension rippled through them like another explosion waiting to break. Hale's eyes narrowed, spear raised, his voice cutting through the noise.
"Hold the line. We bleed them, then we bleed their army."
The battle of Ember Ravine had only just begun.
The horns didn't stop, they layered, one deep note rolling under another until the ravine itself seemed to shake. Elias's Resonance Sense caught every vibration, each one an iron nail hammered into the Loom, steady, relentless, the sound of trained men tightening their will into something that felt like a wall coming down the path.
Torchlight swelled behind the smoke, more Wardens, shields linked, their chant low and steady, like a tide dragging forward. Hale adjusted his stance without a word, the set of his shoulders making it clear he had seen this before, whole armies folding into ravines like spears in a sheath.
"More coming," Elias hissed, jaw tight, "two hundred, maybe more. And they're disciplined."
Thorek spat into the dirt and grinned, hammer on his shoulder. "Good, means more skulls to ring."
Elvi slipped through the brush above them, bowstring drawn, eyes scanning for horns and torches, every arrow of hers needed to be a cut in the enemy's rhythm. Lysera stood near Noll, her veils drawn tight, smoke and illusion shifting like a false curtain, making the battlefield bend where she willed.
The first wave hit the bottleneck again, bloodied but not broken. Shields clanged against Thorek's hammer, Hale's spear punched through gaps, Elias sent a hum down his spearpoint that made three men wince as their shields buzzed in their hands. Rook darted low, silver eyes flashing, teeth sinking into a calf before he pulled back into fog.
Then the second wave arrived.
They came behind a signal pole glowing faintly blue, the crystal at its tip wrapped in threads that hummed through Elias's bones like a warning. Wards rolled across the advancing ranks, not full shields but a steady reinforcement, every man linked together like one weave stretched thin.
"Break that pole," Hale barked, never looking away from the fight. "That pole keeps them marching."
"I'll line it," Elias muttered, the hum of the Threads wrapping the pole already sharp in his chest, "just give me room."
"Then make room," Thorek roared, and he shoved forward, hammer swinging wide, the blow catching two shields at once and knocking them aside. Hale darted in behind the opening, spear thrusts clean and brutal, cutting one man through the armpit, then stepping back before the next spear could answer.
Elias thrust low, Resonance vibrating through his spear, and found the frequency running through the signal pole. He dragged it into his chest, felt it, then fed it back, one clean hum aimed into the ground. The pole shivered, the glow faltering, one rank of Wardens stumbling as the resonance cut across their line.
"Down," he barked. Elvi loosed, her arrow flying true, striking the pole-bearer through the shoulder. The man staggered, the crystal tilting, Lysera snapped a veil across the light, bending it sideways into smoke. For a heartbeat the push faltered, confusion rippling like cracks in glass.
Then the horns blew again, louder, and the chant surged back to life.
"Shit," Elias hissed, sweat dripping into his beard.
The ravine filled with steel, every step forward pressing the Ashborn tighter against their own choke. Thorek slammed his hammer into a shield, laughing like he was at a feast. Hale fought without flourish, every thrust a ledger line, cut clean and move. Elvi ghosted her arrows into weak points, torches sputtering as her shafts found oil-soaked cloth.
Noll's ward shivered as the strain grew, his hands trembling, the boy biting down hard enough to draw blood. Elias caught the wobble through his Resonance Sense, sent a steady pulse back, the commander's drum keeping Noll's hands steady. The ward steadied, humming again, the boy's breath falling back into rhythm.
"They're probing," Hale growled, eyes flicking to Elias. "Feels like they're waiting."
"They are," Elias said grimly. He could feel it, the chant wasn't just noise, it was weaving, rhythm designed to wear them thin, hold them steady until the real push came.
The ground trembled again, a deeper vibration rolling through the stone, boots heavier, shields larger. Elias's teeth buzzed with the hum before the fog parted to reveal them.
The Wardens' heavy line.
Broad men clad in half plate, shields taller than a man, spears thicker, moving slower but unstoppable, the glow of the signal pole brightening as the heavy line joined. Their chant was deeper, older, each syllable resonating in Elias's bones until he wanted to grind his teeth just to drown it out.
"Hold," Hale barked, his voice steady as steel.
The heavy line hit the choke.
The first impact rattled the earth, Thorek's hammer slammed into a shield but the man barely staggered, Hale's spear thrust skidded off armor. Elias's vibrating spear found purchase but not enough, the resonance only buzzing against the reinforced ward.
"Ward strain," Noll gasped, sweat pouring. His legs shook, but the weave held, Elias sending pulse after pulse to steady him.
"Then we thin them," Elias snapped, "Lysera, veil their eyes!"
The elf's hands blurred, Threads bending, torches vanishing into sudden dark. Elvi loosed into the black, one arrow finding a throat by sound alone, another striking sparks off armor.
The heavy line pressed again, and the Ashborn staggered under the weight.
Elias felt his ribs ache with the resonance, his chest pounding like a drum. This wasn't just a battle anymore, it was a test of survival, the choke point filling with iron and blood. His Resonance Sense stretched thin, every vibration burning into him like fire.
"We can't hold this forever," he muttered, teeth gritted.
"Then we break them before forever comes," Hale said, voice low, iron steady.
And as the heavy shields shoved closer, as the chant grew louder, as the pole glowed bright enough to turn fog to fire, Elias knew the battle of Ember Ravine had only begun its true song.
The heavy line shoved forward, shields grinding against stone, boots driving in rhythm with the chant. Elias's chest throbbed with the resonance, every word like a nail hammered deeper.
Thorek braced beside Hale, hammer ringing against shields, sparks spitting into the fog. Hale's spear snapped in, fast and precise, slipping between plates and dragging blood, but for every man he cut another filled the space. The ravine was a funnel, endless bodies pouring through, and the heavy line made the funnel a blade pointed straight at their ribs.
"Ward's going to crack," Noll gasped, his face pale, sweat streaming down his neck. His arms shook, the threads trembling with him, Elias felt every shiver through the resonance, like a rope stretched to breaking.
Elias clamped a hand to the boy's shoulder and sent a pulse, steady, drumbeat strong. "Not yet," he snapped. "Hold. You're a wall, Noll. Be the wall."
The boy's eyes flicked to his, teeth gritted, breath steadied. The ward hummed, smoother, steadier, the cracks filling with rhythm Elias forced into him.
Lysera's hands blurred, weaving veils that bent torchlight sideways, whole ranks stabbing at shadows where no one stood. Her voice was low, threads twisting sharp and clean, her eyes cold as glass. Elvi's bowstring sang in counterpoint, arrows sliding between gaps, striking throats and knees. For every shield that staggered, Rook darted in, silver eyes gleaming, teeth finding flesh before vanishing into fog.
But still they came.
The pole bearer raised the crystal higher, the glow brightening, threads spilling out across the ravine like a net. Elias's Resonance Sense screamed with it, a vibration sharp enough to split teeth.
"They're anchoring their weave through that damned pole," Elias hissed. "It's tying them together."
"Then we cut the anchor," Hale growled.
Thorek bared his teeth in a grin. "About bloody time."
Elias thrust his spear low, resonance humming through the shaft, feeding into the ground. He found the frequency, sharp, taut, tied to the crystal's hum. He yanked hard, dragging it across his chest, then flung it back, one jolt of discord rattling the weave.
The pole shimmered, the glow stuttering.
Elvi loosed, her arrow flashing, striking the pole bearer through the bicep. He staggered, the crystal tipping, Lysera snapped a veil across the light, warping it into smoke. For a heartbeat, the heavy line faltered, their chant hitching, their shields pausing.
"Now!" Hale barked.
Thorek shoved forward with a roar, hammer slamming down. The shield beneath it buckled, iron twisting, the man behind crushed to his knees. Hale's spear followed, brutal and clean, slipping under his helm.
Elias hummed his spear to a knife's pitch and slashed it across a shield rim. The metal screamed, buckled, then split, the man behind stumbling. Rook lunged and tore his throat out before the next rank could blink.
The choke point filled with blood and screams.
For a heartbeat Elias thought they could break the line, that they could turn the tide here, now, end it. His chest thrummed with the resonance, the rhythm of battle pounding into his bones like a second heartbeat.
Then he felt it.
Not from the ravine. Not from the heavy line. From the left, deep in the trees, steady and measured, boots too light for soldiers, wheels creaking, chains rattling.
Elias's breath caught. His Resonance Sense sharpened, painting the picture before his eyes could. Twenty men. A caravan. Chains. Children.
"Fuck," Elias whispered.
Hale's head snapped toward him. "What?"
"There's another group," Elias hissed, voice low but urgent. "Left flank, through the trees. A caravan. They've got kids in chains."
Elvi swore under her breath, eyes flashing. Lysera's jaw went tight.
"How many?" Hale barked, driving his spear into another throat.
"Twenty wardens, maybe more," Elias said, already moving, every part of him screaming that if he stayed here those children would vanish into the Church's maw, never seen again. "I'll intercept."
"You break from the line now and we bleed," Hale snapped, voice iron.
"If I don't, they bleed," Elias shot back, eyes burning.
Lysera's veil flared, bending another spear aside. Her voice cut through the clash, sharp as her weaves. "He's right. If they take the children, the Church wins more than this fight. We hold the line. He goes."
Hale cursed, shield shoving back another thrust. His eyes locked on Elias, steady, grim. "Then go. Don't die doing it."
Thorek barked a laugh, hammer ringing. "You heard him, shortstack. Bring me back a tale worth the forge."
Elias nodded once, hard. He pressed a hand to Noll's shoulder, one last pulse of resonance steadying the boy. "Hold, damn it. You've got this."
"I'll hold," Noll said, voice shaking but eyes steady.
Elias turned and ran.
The fog closed around him, the battle's roar fading into a dull thunder behind. His Resonance Sense stretched ahead, painting every step, the creak of chains, the jangle of armor, the muffled sobs of children trying not to cry. His ribs burned, his lungs ached, but he pushed harder, the hum in his bones pulling him forward like a leash.
He burst through a stand of thorn trees and saw them.
A caravan of iron cages dragged by draft beasts, twenty wardens flanking it, spears and short blades ready, shields gleaming in the torchlight. Children huddled inside, eyes wide, faces pale. The nearest boy met Elias's gaze through the bars, no older than Ava had been, his lip split, dirt streaked across his cheek.
Elias's heart clenched.
The wardens spotted him, horns lifting, steel glinting. The cages rattled as children pressed back from the bars, wide-eyed.
Elias didn't wait.
He planted his spear, resonance humming low and tight, muscles thrumming as the Loom's rhythm filled his bones. The weapon vibrated faintly, edge sharp enough to split air. His veins lit with fire, oxygen rushing hotter in his chest, his body strung taut like a bow.
The first warden lunged. Elias cut.
The spearpoint slid through the man's ward mid cast, threads unraveling before they could tighten. The soldier staggered, shock painted on his face, and Elias's thrust finished it quick and brutal. Another came from the side, shield high, ward beginning to flare, but Elias felt the pitch a heartbeat before it took shape. He shifted, humming the shaft at just the right note, and the ward snapped. His strike slid into the gap, shallow but bloody.
The line faltered for a breath. Not broken, not yet.
"Saint Caelus," one whispered, not in awe, in fear.
Elias ignored it.
The children clung to the bars, watching a stranger fight like the Loom itself had turned its weight behind him. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
Two more wardens pressed in. His spear darted, buzzing with resonance, each strike shaking his arms down to the bone. Sparks spat where fire snapped at the tip. A shield rim rang when he struck it wrong, the vibration biting back through his wrists. His ribs burned, his lungs clawed for air, but he moved anyway.
Three wardens down. Seventeen left.
Their circle tightened, torches flaring, chants thick in the fog. Elias shifted his stance, knees bent, chest heaving. The Loom's hum rattled in his skull, taut as a bowstring drawn too far.
"Come on," he rasped, steadying the spear. His voice was smoke, his grin without humor. "Come on, then."
The wardens did not break. They pressed forward, step by step, shields locking again, chants rising in rhythm.
And the fight that would decide the children's fate began to close around him like a fist.