The burning arrow rose into the sky… its faint whistle and glow cutting through the darkness.Some of the guards turned…"What is that?"..."Maybe children playing".... The third guard kept staring at the arrow as it climbed, then tilted beyond the walls slowly..but for a few seconds…silence returned.
Outside the walls, Thorn stood on a small hill, his eyes fixed on the northern wall. He saw the arrow rise, saw the red light fall, then smiled a cold smile. He raised his right hand high, then brought it down sharply as if cutting something "Begin!!!"
The ropes tightened. Hundreds of hands, worn from waiting, tensed at once. The thick ropes groaned under pressure, then the massive wooden arms were pulled back. The catapults were like sleeping giants that had suddenly opened their eyes….then (BOOOOM) the first stone fell….
A large, dark stone, carved by the soldiers days ago to be the first to touch the enemy wall. It soared high into the air, crossed the distance in seconds, then slammed into the northern wall. The wall shook. Not a simple tremor, but a violent quake that shook every stone in that ancient barrier. The sound wasn't just an impact, it was like a lightning strike falling from a clear sky. The echo bounced between the towers, leapt from wall to wall, entered the city like a raging wind…and within moments…(BOOM..BOOM...BOOOOM..BOOM...BOOOM) the bombardment rained down…
There was no longer a single stone. It became a storm. Stones falling like rain in a tempest. No pause, no rest, no chance to breathe. Each catapult fired in turn, but the sequence was so fast the strikes seemed simultaneous.
One strike. Then another. Then ten. Then more.
Asou awoke…doors burst open all at once, people pouring out like a flood. Men without cloaks, women in sleepwear, children carried in arms. No one paused, no one closed a door behind them.
People rushed out without direction.
In the market street, the place filled in moments. Shoulders colliding, legs stumbling, voices rising.
(Waaah!...Waaah!) children crying, faces wet, mouths open."Nail! Nail where are you?!" a woman searching for her son among the legs…"Halt! Go back home!" a man trying to pull his daughter back inside, but the crowd pushes him forward…"What's happening? Who attacked? Why are people running?" a young man asking everyone with no answer."Wait for me! Don't leave me, Asgerd!" an old woman reaching her hand toward a man moving away with the crowd."Think of the children!" a mother screaming, trying to shield her daughter from the crushing press."Miomi! Miomi! Where did you go?" a man searching for his wife who vanished in the crowd chasing their young son…
The streets filled rapidly.
In the narrow alley, everything stopped. Bodies pressed together, unable to move forward or back.
"Make way!" a soldier shouted…but…there was no way left.
Only people. Breathing into each other's faces, panting, sweating, crying, screaming. One man tries to calm his child: "Quiet... quiet, little one..." but the child doesn't stop, and the noise doesn't fade.
A woman tries to return to her home: "Let me go back! Let me!" but no one hears her, no one can move.
And somewhere far, a small child stands alone in a corner, crying loudly: "Mother... mother... mother..." no one turns to him, everyone is busy with themselves.
Asou was no longer a city. It became a human wall groaning under the weight of fear…
The crowd suddenly split. Four riders pushed against the flow, their horses neighing, hooves striking stone.
"Attack! Attack!"
An officer shouted at the top of his voice, face flushed, veins bulging in his neck.
"Go back! Everyone inside! Go back!"
People paused for a moment. Faces turned toward the voice. Then some began retreating, pushing back toward the doors they had opened minutes ago.
"We are under attack! Go back! Go back!"
Another rider repeated the order, sword drawn, trying to look terrifying to hurry them.
"Everyone inside! Now! Now!"
A child cried. A mother grabbed him tightly and ran back. A man fell, got up quickly, kept running. A door slammed behind a family. Another door. A third.
The four riders spread through the streets, their voices rising above screams and cries:
"Attack! Go back to your homes! Now!"
The streets began to empty gradually. Doors closed one after another. Calm returned slowly, but it was a fearful calm.
And the bombardment still thundered in the background.
Within moments, stones turned into barrels…barrels fell…wood splintered, black oil spilled over the stones like blood. Some barrels shattered atop the towers, oil flowing down the walls like sticky waterfalls. Others struck the walls and splashed onto soldiers sheltering behind shields. Oil spread across the walls. Over the ancient stones, over dry wood, over soldiers' helmets and cloaks. It clung to leather, seeped into cracks of armor, stained the guards' hands. Its heavy smell filled the air.
Moments later…until the soldiers heard a command from behind the walls "Fiiire!!"...one rider looked up at the sky…"What is that…are the stars this close...those…those are arrows…not ordinary arrows!!"
Small sparks ignited here and there. A spark here, a small flame there. Like candles in a stormy night. But fire does not stay small. It devoured the oil, spread to wood, climbed to banners, rolled along the ground…"Arrows of fire!!" one shouted.
The fire was no longer patches, it became a blanket. An entire wall burning. Thick black smoke rising into the sky, blocking the stars, choking anyone who came near. Guards on the walls could no longer see ahead. Some collapsed from coughing, others threw themselves from above to escape the flames.
"Water! Hurry! Bring water!"
The garrison commander shouted at the top of his voice. His face red from the reflection of flames, his eyes wide. His soldiers ran in every direction. Some toward wells, some toward storage, some running without purpose.
The soldiers ran. Buckets filled, hands lifted, water splashed onto flames. But the fire was hungry, and the people were afraid. Every fire put out in one place ignited in ten others.
The barrels fell. Oil spilled on the stones. Then the arrows followed. Fire erupted.
He was standing on the stairs. He looked at the wall before him. It was no longer a wall. It became a wall of flame.
"What is this?" he said to himself.
No one answered him. The fire hissed, stones fell, soldiers ran.
"Why? How? I was here minutes ago... everything was calm."
He looked at his hands. They were trembling.
"I was assigned yesterday... just yesterday…wasn't I recruited yesterday?"
He remembered the registration office…**Flashback...the man behind the desk. The paper he signed. The oath he swore.. **back to the present...
"No one told me the wall would burn."
The fire rose and the smoke began to choke him until he started coughing…he wiped his eyes that were tearing from the smoke.
"Why all this? Why am I here?"
He remembered his mother. Remembered her face as she said goodbye. Remembered her words: "You will protect the city.." he looked around "Where is the protection? Where is the city? All I see is fire and ruin"
"I can't..."
A voice from afar cut him off. The garrison commander was shouting and pointing at him.
"You! Get up! Move!"
He looked at the commander but didn't move.
"Do you hear me! Buckets of water! Bring buckets! Move!"
"Buckets..." he repeated to himself. "Buckets of water... why buckets? The fire is big... buckets won't put it out..."
"Now! Run!"
He stood…his knees trembling…he began to run…not knowing where…not knowing why…just running.
The fire behind him, the commander ahead of him, and he in between, a recruit yesterday and today a soldier and a defender…
And the wall kept taking hit after hit…massive stones…oil barrels…fire arrows…no rest…
The northern wall began to crack.
"Reinforce the north!!" the commander shouted.
Units moved. They withdrew from the east and west... the rest of the walls became nearly empty, but no one noticed.
Then everything stopped. No bombardment, no sound, only faint fire breathing.
"...why did they stop?" a soldier whispered.
No answer…silence was heavier than the bombardment. All that could be heard were guards trying to extinguish the fire…
Silence... silence...
(BOOOOF)
Everyone turned. Where did the strike come from?
(BOOOOF) (BOOOOF) (BOOOOF)
A full barrage, and the eastern wall took the hits all at once, cracking, collapsing, becoming rubble…
"The east!!"
But it was too late…
Erik stood before the collapsed wall, dust still rising, stones rolling, guards running like terrified ants. He looked at the breach and saw it widening, looked at his soldiers behind him and found them ready, smiled faintly then raised his sword high, the blade gleaming under distant firelight and shouted at the top of his voice "Sooooldiers... forwaaaard!!"
His voice cut the silence like a blade, and the soldiers behind him raised their swords and roared then surged forward. Erik charged first, followed by twelve thousand soldiers, some on horses, some on foot, armor clashing against armor, swords drawn from their sheaths, breaths heating the cold air, a single scene of iron and men moving as one body.
Feet struck the ground, thousands of them pounding like war drums, one unified sound rising, growing, filling the entire plain. The earth trembled beneath them, and the dust that had settled rose again. The army advanced like a flood and entered through the breach before anyone could close it. The first ranks leapt over rubble, the second followed, then the third, then thousands. The opening that could fit ten soldiers side by side began to narrow under the endless flow of bodies.
They entered through the breach, and the city was not ready. The streets were still crowded with fleeing civilians, soldiers scattered between the north and east and the civilians, and the commander near the northern wall still shouting orders no one heard, and the fire still raging and panic filling every alley, and they entered from the eastern wall… and the real battle began.
In a dark alley, the spy was sitting, and when the bombardment began he closed his eyes and whispered "Sorry" then repeated it, stood up and walked out…
The city burned in chaos...people running left and right without purpose ..
Until he collided with a woman...even though he hit her, she didn't care, she shouted loudly
"Willi!!"
He froze...turned to her, his face as if struck hard…
Then—
"Hans!"
He turned...and saw another woman calling
"The name...the name..."
The names struck him heavily until he froze in place…
The spy moved slowly, his face tilted toward the sky, not looking where he walked.
People ran around him like terrified ants, shouting, pushing, falling, then rising. Suddenly, four riders cut through the crowd on their horses, shouting in one voice: "The southern gate is open! The southern gate is open!" The phrase repeated, growing louder, so people rushed south like a flood, leaving behind the wounded, the dead, and those who couldn't move.
The city was collapsing, and the spy was still walking against the current.
He reached the eastern wall. It was no longer a wall, but a pile of rubble, falling stones and charred wood. He lowered his head…looked around...then found…beneath the rubble, between two large stones, he saw little Willi's body lying face down, Hans stretched beneath wood…they were dead…
"Ha... haha... hahahahahaha"
A short, dry laugh, like someone hearing a bad joke at the wrong time…then it turned into crying.
"Aaaah... aaaah... aaaaaahhh" broken sobs, coming from his chest as if fighting his breath.
"Hahahahahahahahaha!"
A second laugh, longer this time, like someone who suddenly understood a painful truth and chose to laugh at it instead of crying.
But he cried.
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah"
A long, loud cry, like a child who lost his mother in a crowded market.
"Ha... haha... hah"
A third laugh, short, exhausted, like someone who no longer had the strength to laugh or cry.
Then silence…he sat on the ground between the two bodies, his eyes dry, his mouth closed, nothing. Only silence, dust, and the smell of death…Erik's forces approached the alley, Erik at the front spotted the one sitting among the rubble and recognized him from Thorn's description, he turned to his soldiers and shouted "That's Thorn's spy! No one touches him!"
They passed before him like a flood, Erik in the lead and his soldiers behind him, armor clashing, feet pounding the ground, no one looked at him, and he did not move, remained sitting where he was, his eyes on the bodies and his hands on his knees, as if the entire army had not passed before him.
Outside, Thorn stood where he was, not moving a single step since the bombardment began, his eyes fixed on the collapsed eastern wall and the black smoke rising from it like a pillar telling stories of death.
He raised his small scope to his eyes, observed his soldiers entering through the breach in increasing numbers, observed the guards running in chaos along the remaining walls, observed the fire spreading in nearby buildings, then lowered the scope and whispered to himself "Everything is proceeding according to plan..." he paused for a moment and his voice was faint as if speaking to someone unseen, then added in a colder tone "What remains... is to finish before reinforcements reach them."
Inside, the spy lifted his head, still sitting among the rubble, his eyes dry, then he began to hear, thud... thud... thud... horse hooves approaching, not like those before, these were faster and heavier, as if the ground trembled beneath them.
Then he heard a different shout,
The banner appeared…Orvalis' flag, and behind it riders charging, and at the front—Leon. His sword raised, his face steady, then he shouted—
"Fooooorward!!!" the horses surged, striking the ground which trembled…
The spy remained where he was, watching…
The war…was no longer one-sided…