The field had quieted, if only for a breath. The mist carried the scent of iron and ash, the echoes of dying roars still trembling through the ground.
Ferric watched the shimmer fade where Rime and Ember had fallen, the air still humming faintly with their passing. The giant they were fighting headed back to where it came from, worn and tattered from the fight.
Ward stood beside him, arms at his side, shields dented and dark with soot.
"They really went out loud, didn't they," Ward said after a moment.
Ferric nodded. "Wouldn't have suited them any other way."
The two stood in silence, watching the distant silhouettes of other battles, giants moving like slow storms against a churning sea of figures.
Finally, Ward tilted his head toward the haze. "Suppose it's our turn?"
Ferric exhaled, a dry laugh escaping. "Yeah. Let's go find something worth punching before the day runs out."
They moved toward the noise and the dust, toward whatever fight was left to be had in this dying field.
Alright," Ward said, rolling his shoulders, "how are we going to decide who does the most damage?"
Ferric grunted, tightening the chains around his forearms until they bit faintly into the skin. "What, you planning on keeping score?"
"Gotta have something to keep the mind off dying, plus you said my shields were a joke and we had to see who bashed better," Ward shot back. "Whoever gets the kill, maybe?"
Ferric tilted his head. "And what if I set it up, and you just take the last swing?"
"Then I guess you should've swung faster."
Ferric snorted. "We're not exactly in a position to take one down as we please."
Ward nodded. "True. Could just as easily die first."
"Could?" Ferric looked sideways at him. "Will. It's just a matter of when."
Ward gave a hollow laugh. "To be honest, I'm pretty sure my insides are torn up. I don't have much longer."
"Me too," Ferric replied, without missing a beat.
"Then how about we just see what we can do before we go?"
Ferric smiled. "Sounds good to me."
They trudged on through the haze, the air humming with the dull rhythm of battle, shouts, the thud of giants, the crack of earth. Ahead, a cluster of veterans stood in formation, the same ones they had seen on their march here, watching two hulking shapes in the distance. One giant was broad and weathered, eleven feet tall and wielding a massive two-handed hammer. The other was leaner, younger, with twin spiked balls dangling from its chains like deadly ornaments.
The veterans were debating.
"Alright, we'll take the big one," said a man with a dented helm.
"Wait, wait, wait," another interrupted, "you just want to win the bet. You know the rule, first to die pays for the first round tonight."
"No, listen! That one's got a hammer, you've got a hammer. Perfect match!"
"Yeah, so what? The other one's using chains. We've got shields. That's better for us."
"How does him having a hammer make it better anyway?"
"It's poetic!"
"Poetic my ass, you're just trying to game this."
Their laughter was rough, but easy, the kind born from too many deaths and too many tomorrows.
Ferric and Ward walked up behind them. The veterans turned, saw the chains and shields, and exchanged glances.
"Well look who wandered in," said one, grinning. "New blood with a death wish?"
"Something like that," Ferric said.
"Tell you what," another veteran said, his voice sly, "we were just deciding who takes which giant. You boys look eager. How about you take the big one? Give us a hand, eh?"
Ward smirked. "The big one, huh? I wouldn't call it that. More like… a quick death for us."
A few of the veterans laughed uneasily. Ferric cracked his knuckles. "Fine. We'll take it."
"No, really...," one of the veterans started to talk, feeling a little guilty now.
Ferric cut them off. "It's fine."
Ward shrugged. "Yeah, we got this one. You take the little guy."
The veterans stared at them, somewhere between admiration and disbelief. Finally, one called after them, "Find us any time at the pub in the outskirts. We'll buy you a round, regardless of the outcome."
"Sounds good," Ferric said over his shoulder.
As they walked off, one of the veterans muttered, "Two shields and some chains… they think they're going to kill a giant?"
Another sighed. "No, but they'll die trying. That counts for something."
The veterans advanced on the smaller giant, six against one. The giant was quick, quicker than it looked, its twin spiked balls whirling on their chains with a sound like slicing wind.
Without warning, one chain lashed forward. The iron ball smashed into the first hammer wielder's face before anyone could blink. Bone cracked. The man fell limp.
"What the...!" someone yelled.
The second chain whipped around, wrapping around another man's legs. Before he could react, the giant yanked, the soldier flew into the air like a rag doll.
The giant reeled back its other arm, spiked ball glinting in the light, and hurled it forward again. It collided midair with the airborne man's chest, cracking his body before the chain pulled him back down into the dirt.
"Gods above," one of the survivors muttered. "I thought this was supposed to be the easy one."
"Shut it and move!" another barked, raising his shield.
The four left spread out. The archer loosed a pair of arrows — one sank into the giant's shoulder, another into its thigh. The creature barely flinched. It spun, swinging both chains in a wide arc that cleared the ground like a scythe.
The sword and shield veteran ducked under one, but the man with daggers wasn't fast enough. The spiked ball caught him in the side, crushing ribs and sending him tumbling backward in a cloud of dust.
"Keep it busy!" the other hammer wielder shouted, rushing in. He slammed his weapon into the giant's knee a solid hit but the giant's counter came instantly. The other chain looped around his neck, pulled tight, and twisted. There was a snap, a scream cut short.
Now two remained.
The archer dropped his bow and grabbed a fallen sword. "You and me!" he yelled, charging.
Together they closed the gap, darting between the arcs of the chains, ducking low, slashing where they could. The giant's strikes were wild but relentless, the air full of the hiss of swinging iron.
When one of the chains caught the archer's sword, the giant jerked back hard, tearing it from his hands. The weapon spun through the air, embedding in the ground several paces away.
The other man rammed his shield into the giant's shin, earning a deep bellow of pain.
The giant staggered, not down, but close.
The two soldiers shared a look.
"Finish it!"
They charged together, steel and chain crashing again and again.
Elsewhere, Ferric and Ward approached their own giant, the elder one, hulking, calm, its eyes fixed on them like a hunter assessing prey.
"So," Ferric said, glancing at Ward, "who goes first?"
Ward flexed his arms, both shields gleaming dull under the haze. "I'm not sure how much longer I've got left. Might as well make use of what's left of me."
Ferric nodded. "I'll follow."
The giant roared and swung its hammer downward with the weight of a falling tree. Ward brought both shields together, jagged edges overlapping, and absorbed the hit. The impact sent tremors up his arms and down his spine. Dust burst up around him, but he held his ground.
Another strike. Then another. Each one drove him a little lower, cracks webbing across the metal of his shields.
Ferric circled, looking for an opening. "You planning to just stand there till you break?"
Ward gritted his teeth. "Just… finding the right timing!"
The next swing came faster. This time Ward stepped in, meeting the blow instead of bracing for it. The hammer came down, and he snapped both shields outward at the last second, twisting his shoulder to take the hit, the full force of the hammer instead of his face.
The result was brutal. The hammer connected, driving him to his knees, but right as it hit Ward has timed it perfectly. Bringing the shields back together hard and fast, the jagged rims of his shields cleaved through the giant's wrist.
Bone snapped. Flesh tore. The hand fell, still gripping the hammer.
Ward's left arm went limp, the shoulder shattered. He dropped one shield, panting through clenched teeth.
"I'm done," he gasped. "Your turn."
Ferric didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, chains rattling as he moved in. The giant reeled, clutching its stump, but Ferric slammed into its chest, striking again and again, fists wrapped in metal, blows cracking like drumbeats.
The giant's remaining arm swung wide, catching Ferric in the side. Pain flared white, but he ducked, brought his chain wrapped knuckles up into the giant's ribs.
Each strike from Ferric was desperate, unpolished, training buried under raw instinct. He blocked another punch with his forearm, the chain biting deep but holding. He drove a counter straight into the giant's jaw as he came down to hit him, sending blood flinging out of the giants mouth.
The giant bellowed.
Behind him, Ward had staggered to his feet, one arm hanging useless, the other still clutching the shield. "Move!" he shouted, charging forward.
Together they struck, Ward with the edge of his shield, Ferric with his fists. They moved clumsily, sometimes colliding, sometimes in perfect sync, both too stubborn to fall.
Ferric ducked low, unwrapping some chain from his arm and then crossing it around the giant's remaining arm, trying to pull it back. "Got it!" he yelled.
Ferric had misjudged both his strength and how much the giant still had. The giant jerked violently, dragging Ferric off his feet and swinging him sideways, straight into Ward. Both men went flying twenty feet and slammed into a boulder with a sharp breaking sound.
The world went white.
Ferric tasted blood. Ward tried to push himself up, but his legs wouldn't move.
"Not… bad…" Ward muttered.
Ferric laughed weakly. "Could've been worse."
Then the light dimmed. Their eyes fluttered closed.
Across the field, the remaining two veterans finally brought their giant to its knees. Both men were covered in blood, their armor cracked, weapons in a bad state.
The giant fell forward, crashing into the dirt.
They stood there panting, silence falling heavy.
They looked over towards where the older giant was.
Ferric and Ward lay slumped against a cracked boulder, motionless, the pair who'd taken on the elder giant and somehow lived long enough to wound it beyond recognition. The creature still standing but just barely, hammerless and bleeding from the stump of its arm.
The two surviving veterans traded a look.
"Think we can take it?" one asked.
"I don't think we'd have to do much, it's losing blood quick."
The archer picked up his bow, testing the frayed string with a slow pull. "Can't leave it half done."
"Yeah," his companion muttered, tightening his grip on his battered shield. "Let's finish it."
They advanced on the wounded giant. It turned its head toward them tired, defiant, maybe even grateful.
Two arrows flew. One struck deep in its neck, the other buried itself in the chest.
The man with the shield charged and drove his sword into the creature's heart.
The giant let out a low rumble, half a sigh, half a word, before collapsing with a sound that shook the air. Then silence.
For a long moment, the two veterans just stood there breathing hard, surrounded by the wreckage of two battles.
Then one of them pointed toward the rocks. "Look."
Ferric and Ward's bodies shimmered faintly in the light, dissolving into slow-rising wisps of blue that drifted up and vanished into the wind.
The archer lowered his bow. "Those two," he said softly. "Crazy bastards."
The other chuckled, weary and cracked. "Yeah. But not half bad."
"Definitely crazy, though."
"Yeah," the first agreed, smirking faintly.
They turned and started back toward camp, limping, weapons hanging loose. Somewhere behind them, the wind moved through the field, whispering through the dead grass, carrying the quiet rhythm of their footsteps, two survivors walking away from another story that would soon be told over drinks tonight.
Grey watched from ahead on the field.
"Theirs was a song beaten from iron and stubbornness, no melody, no grace, just rhythm. Shields clashing like drums, chains scraping like rough strings. A duet of defiance, played by men too tired to fear and too proud to quit," he said to himself.
"When they fell, the sound didn't end. It lingered, low and steady, like the echo of a forge long after the fire dies."
Grey smiled faintly, shaking his head. "Some songs," he murmured, "ain't meant to be beautiful. Just loud enough to be remembered."
Then he turned toward the next rising plume of dust, eager to hear the next verse the battlefield had to offer.