The killing began when the famed elven archers got into position and unleashed their arrows in disciplined volleys. Scores of human soldiers fell in the barrage, yet still they charged. The archer fire was soon accompanied by a barrage of offensive spells from Sonian mages ranging from mighty fireballs to crackling bolts of magical lightning. Dozens more human soldiers would fall to the elven ranged onslaught yet discipline pushed them further. Soon, the humans were close enough to see the elven front line ready themselves in a brace position with shields out and spears angled towards their approaching enemy. The gap disappeared, and with a thunderous roar the Varsonite army crashed in.

  For a moment, the elves seemed to buckle as the tremendous weight of the charge slammed into them, with many cut down by swift strikes from swords, spears, axes, and maces. Various human ranged units also finally got in position and contributed a steady rain of arrows and spells into the rear lines of the elves. Despite the immense pressure, the elves managed to hold on with reserve troops rushing to plug any gaps that formed in the initial attack while elven archers and mages dueled with the human ones. With the impetus of the charge spent, the fighting quickly devolved into a dogged battle of attrition with neither side being able to break through the other’s line.

  Once Virnius and Drusus had killed enough elves on the front and things settled, the father and son fought their way off the frontline and towards the rear of the army to give orders and catch a breather. With the enemy now tied down, it was time for the second phase of the plan as Drusus took out his signaling horn, put it to his lips and blew a long, drawn out call to summon his Kingdom’s trump card. With a vicious war cry, the Wolves of Varson thundered out of the woods and began moving towards the left flank of the battle with great speed.

  The Wolves were an elite cavalry unit that proved themselves through hunting and killing the giant wolves that controlled the northern forests and bringing their pelts back as proof. They were given the honor of wearing wolf pelts into battle and joining the elite group said to have been founded by King Varson at the dawn of the Kingdom itself. Where the Wolves joined a battle, a human victory almost always followed.

  Despite the torrential rain and ever increasing amount of mud, the Wolves moved swiftly towards their destiny. Virnius had turned to watch their advance with a firm sense of pride, confident that the elves had no counter on the field ready to stop his cavalry as all of the elements of their army were currently engaged with his. This confidence would quickly be shattered as another horn sounded over the din of battle, this time from the elven side of the field.

  Out from the woods behind the Sonians, a large group of elves riding elegant white war stags emerged from the shadows and swiftly advanced to intercept the incoming Wolves. These were the White Stags and represented the mounted wing of the Sonian Royal Guard. To become a member of the White Stags, an elf did not just have to prove worthy enough of joining the Royal Guard, but also would have to show an excellent connection to nature in order to tame the often fiery temper of the proud white stags that gave the cavalry their name.

  Virnius watched in silence as the two elite cavalry formations met with a thunderous crash before clicking his tongue in frustration as he watched the fight quickly devolve into another fierce stalemate. While his cavalry being intercepted couldn’t exactly be called a defeat, the White Stags were still doing an admirable job holding down the Wolves and ensuring the continued safety of the left flank of the Sonian army. He then turned his gaze back to the main battle and created a quick assessment of the battlefield in his mind.

  The battle had ultimately turned into a grinding one of attrition. The elves were putting up a heroic effort to hold in the face of the overwhelming martial strength of the Varsonites and facing heavy losses. Normally the humans would easily come out victorious due to their numbers and killing prowess, however the ever increasing rivers of mud that were covering the battlefield due to the torrential rainstorm were only helping to hinder the heavily armored human’s movements and force them to expend more energy than their more nimble elven foes. This was already starting to have an effect as more and more Varsonite soldiers were making basic mistakes in their fatigue only to be killed by a nimble strike from an elf.

  Virnius gritted his teeth in frustration as the reality of the battle sunk in. If he didn’t do something soon, the Elves would ultimately win this battle of attrition and deal his Kingdom a blow it could not recover from. Racking his brain for any ideas, Virnius’s eyes once again scanned the battlefield for any weaknesses he could exploit when he found his attention drawn to the two elves standing on a large rock. His eyes narrowed into slits as he grabbed the reins of his horse.

  “Come Drusus…let us end this battle-”

  He paused for a second before shaking his head.

  “No…let’s end this war with one clean strike.” he growled before taking off towards the right flank.

  Drusus had been watching his father the entire time, and when he saw where his father had been looking he had immediately reached the same conclusion as Virnius. Only through breaking the will of the elves would the Varsonites find victory here. Not bothering to hesitate, he grabbed the reins of his horse as well and with a battle cry took off after his father.

  Elanil breathed deeply as she fought to keep the ever growing amount of bile down, leaning on the waiting Nueleth for support. She had convinced herself at the start of this endeavor that she could watch this battle with the calmness and grace befitting the Queen of Sonia, yet the longer she watched it unfold in front of her the weaker her resolve became. It was obvious that many would die in this struggle, she knew that in her heart. Yet the sheer amount of death and destruction that was currently unfolding in front of her was proving too much for her stomach.

  Great rivers of blood were mixing with the rain and mud to make a hellish landscape while at various points in the front line heaps of bodies were beginning to form as the slaughter commenced. No matter who won this day, the outcome would be prohibitively costly for both sides. So much death and for what? Elanil couldn’t tell anymore.

  As the Queen attempted to and ultimately failed to hold back her tears, Nueleth held her close, letting one of her hands stroke through Elanil’s hair as she did her best to soothe her grieving Queen

  “Stay strong My Queen…victory is only a matter of time. The humans’ trump card has been countered and their soldiers tire more and more the longer they fight. The brave martyrs who fall here will rest easy with the spirits knowing that they have finally ended the specter that has haunted our people for such a long time.”

  Nueleth was right, but even so Elanil struggled immensely.

  “But Nue…this shouldn’t be necessary. So many…so many are dead while many more will be maimed for life. The land is drowning in all the blood that flows and I…I can already hear the future wails of anguish of so many broken families. They haunt my mind. You say I should be strong but…how am I not strong enough to stop this madness?” the Queen choked out between sobs.

  The bodyguard said nothing for a bit as she formulated her answer, continuing to hold Elanil tight as her eyes continued to watch the battle play out in front of them. Truth be told this was one of the most difficult aspects of Nueleth’s job as it broke her heart to see her liege lord in such a fragile state.

  “Your strength comes from your compassion, My Queen. Your soldiers who hold the line below fight as hard as they do because they know you care for them. So stand here with them and show them that their sacrifices are not in vain. Show everyone the strength of your will and soon…”

  Nueleth trailed off as her trained ears picked up something. While any normal person or elf would find listening to anything above the roaring din of battle impossible, Nueleth’s hearing was rumored to be the best in the Queendom. She abruptly separated herself from Elanil, nearly causing the emotionally distraught elf to lose her balance. Nueleth put both of her hands to her ears and closed her eyes to fully concentrate on the noise that had suddenly disturbed her. It was getting louder, she could almost make it out.

  Suddenly two mounted figures crashed through the forest and approached the rock where the Queen and her bodyguard stood. Nueleth instantly drew her blade and arranged herself between Elanil and the two intruders. She quickly recognized them as King Virnius and his son as they dismounted their horses and drew their weapons. Time seemed to slow as the combatants sized each other up with nobody daring to make the first move until Drusus finally spoke.

  “You elves started this war when you attacked our patrol on the border all those decades ago, so it is only fair that we offer you the chance to surrender now and end what you started. Your arrogance may be legendary, but there is always time to learn humility. Let me warn you that should you choose to not do so, then I’ll kill you where you stand and show the Queen’s severed head to her soldiers below.” He hissed angrily, a cold glint of determination in his eyes.

  What intrigued Nueleth the most was not the threat that Drusus had just issued, but the fact that it was Drusus delivering it instead of Virnius. Stealing a glance at the human King, she was somewhat disappointed to see a stone cold look of neutrality seemingly chiseled onto his face. Nueleth had expected to see a similar passion in him as the one that burned in his son’s eyes, but his lack of reaction made her suspect something. However she didn’t have time to let her thread of thoughts spool out and she stepped forward to represent her Queen.

  “Don’t make me laugh Prince. It is obvious even to the most blind bat in the land that it was human greed and ambitions that set this war into motion. You just had to fleece our merchants when we tried to trade and had to keep pushing into the disputed border territories. The Sonian Queendom strives to live in harmony with the land, and in order to restore that harmony we must stop your aggression here and educate you savages on how to be a responsible civilization.”

  Nueleth didn’t even have time to mentally pat herself on the back before Drusus lashed out with an attack, her sword swiftly raising to deflect his strike. Despite successfully deflecting it, she couldn’t help but be a bit surprised at just how fast and hard it had been. Had she been a normal elf, the strike would have most certainly decapitated her. Nueleth did not have time to ponder her opponent’s skill as the Prince pressed the attack.

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  The duel between Nueleth and Drusus was hard to follow as both martial legends struck each other with a flurry of blows. Both warriors seemed evenly matched, and the only hits they were able to land on each other were small nicks and cuts. This stalemate seemed to carry on for what felt like an eternity to the two observing monarchs, until suddenly it was broken.

  There was a loud metal screech and meaty thunk as Nueleth’s sword suddenly erupted from Drusus’s back. With a smirk, Nueleth proceeded to unceremoniously rip the sword back out and step back, letting the Crown Prince stagger as he fought hard to stay on his feet, dropping his blade to the ground with a loud clang. He tried to take one step forward…two…then collapsed to his knees. With a loud groan, the light left his eyes and his lifeless body hit the floor.

  The silence that filled the clearing seemed almost deafening as Nueleth swung her sword to flick off the blood that ran across her blade. She then turned her attention to Virnius to see the King’s reaction. Instead of the expected look of shock or horror on the King’s face, the elf guard was shocked to see that his face held the same neutral expression that he had before the duel had even started. Nueleth didn’t even have time to react to the perceived indifference that Virnius showed before a flash of silver severed her head from its shoulders in one clean strike and she was no more.

  As Virnius watched the headless bodyguard fall to the ground, a storm of emotions raged through his mind. Hatred, sorrow, despair…all warred for control of the King’s thoughts. Whatever he felt, he knew the war's end was almost here.

  His gaze rose to meet the seemingly paralyzed Elanil’s, and upon seeing the utter despair in her eyes he couldn’t help but let out a sigh. Those were the eyes of someone who was trapped in a situation that they did not want to be in, a person that Virnius couldn’t help but pity. Her mother had started this war and now she would be the one to see it to its inevitable conclusion.

  Virnius did not have time to pity Elanil for long. After a moment the despair in her eyes suddenly flickered, then shifted to another emotion entirely…an emotion the King was all too familiar with. He barely had time to raise his sword in defense as the Queen unsheathed her short sword and attacked so quickly she seemed to morph into a vaguely elf shaped blur.

  The speed and power behind her initial strike greatly surprised the seasoned warrior King, forcing him back and on the defensive as he worked hard to deflect the flurry of short piercing attacks that she sent his way. It became clear to Virnius that this rose had sharp thorns and if he let his guard down for even a second he could lose everything.

  If the duel between Drusus and Nueleth could have been described as a tango of iron, the duel between Virnius and Elanil could definitely be described as a vicious flamenco of furry. Wherever the Queen’s blade lashed out, Virnius’s blade was there to deflect it. With pressure mounting on Virnius, he knew he needed to take more control of this duel.

  Virnius channeled a large amount of energy into his blade, and with a roar released it as a pulse of blunt force aimed at the queen. The blast did no harm to Elanil directly, but the queen found herself pushed back to the other side of the rock before she found her footing again. While Virnius expected her to immediately lunge forward and begin attacking again, Elanil seemed to have other ideas as she placed her arms into a ready position and stood her ground waiting for him to come to her.

  Both monarchs took the brief lull in the duel to catch their breath, though Elanil seemed to be struggling a bit more. While she definitely had skill, Virnius could definitely tell that fighting up close and personal was not a strong trait for the Elven Queen. Still, he had to be careful and remain on guard if he was to overcome her and win the war. It was at this moment that Elanil finally spoke for the first time since the confrontation had begun.

  "This war has taken so much from us, King Virnius," Elanil's voice wavered, her breath hitching with each word, "So much death... and for what? Look around you! Our lands are soaked in the blood of our children, our forests burn, and our people weep. Nueleth has always been by my side ever since I was a small child and now this war has torn her away from me leaving me alone. I never wanted this war… but what about you?”

  Elanil’s simple question cut Virnius deeper than expected. His entire life and the lives of several kings before him had been dominated by the war yet nobody seemed to really ponder the war beyond trying to win it. He thought carefully before answering her moments later.

  “How could I? I’ve lost my father, brothers and now my eldest son to this war. As King of the Varsonites, I should be proud of the fact that each has laid down their lives in honourable combat, yet as a man their losses weigh ever so heavily on my shoulders. Despite all that my people and I have lost fighting your kind, my duty requires that I fight on until the last drop of my blood is shed. Something tells me that you not only understand this, but feel the same way.”

  With that, Virnius raised his sword into a ready position, prompting Elanil to respond in kind. Virnius noted that the hate from the start of the duel had left Elanil’s eyes, replaced by a look of deep regret. As both monarchs prepared to strike, the rainstorm petered out as if the heavens themselves were holding their breath in anticipation of the conclusion of the duel. Then with a blur of motion, they struck out.

  Both rulers found themselves face to face, their respective blade sticking into the stomach of their opponent. Elanil’s face was frozen in a look of despair while Virnius’s mouth curled up into a grin.

  “So this….this is how it all ends. Not just…not just for us but for our people as well. All of this fighting, and we end up destroying ourselves.” he managed to force out, blood leaking from his mouth as his hands fell limp to his sides.

  Seemingly synced, Virnius and Elanil collapsed to their knees and then onto their sides at the same time, their eyes locking as they felt their precious life essence flow out onto the rock underneath them. As they lay dying, Elanil used much of her remaining strength to reach out towards Virnius, a look of genuine despair and desperation on her face.

  “This…this cannot be…this cannot be how our people meet their ends. Virnius…we can’t let our people continue….to continue to wipe each other out…” she forced out between gasps.

  Virnius immediately understood Elanil’s dying words, and he struggled to reach out to grasp her hand. He missed her hand the first time, then grasped Elanil’s hand as firmly as he could.

  “Then pray…pray to the spirits of the fallen. Pray…for peace.”

  With that, both monarchs closed their eyes and prayed as hard as they could.

  And as their hearts stilled in their chests, they let one last prayer.

  “Let there be peace…”

  And in that moment…the spirits answered.

  The still hearts of the deceased monarchs began to beat once again as the combined power of the fallen flowed into each of them and brought them back to life. With a gasp, both shot up into a sitting position, their hands shooting to their midsections only to find the stab wounds had disappeared completely. As their gazes drifted to meet each other, a sense of understanding washed over them.

  Virnius climbed to his feet first, then reached down and offered his hand to Elanil who accepted it with a nod of understanding. Newfound energy flowed through them, and the only indicator that they had been fatally wounded that remained was the punctured and bloodstained armor that they both wore. Ignoring the urge to test out the new power that they felt coursing through them, the monarchs stepped forward together and stopped near the edge of the rock and looked out over the battle that had continued to rage for the entire duration of the duel.

  It was still a stalemate, despite many soldiers having fallen on both sides. Everyone seemed to be utterly exhausted, yet still they fought on in the vain hope of achieving the final victory. Virnius took it all in, then glanced at Elanil. Her face showed a deep regret, yet her eyes sparkled with newfound determination as she gave Virnius a firm nod. With all his doubts gone, he returned Elanil’s nod and they both stepped to the edge of the rock and spoke as one.

  “ENOUGH!”

  Their combined voice boomed, the power of the spirits carrying it to every nook and cranny of the blood-soaked clearing. The sheer volume and authority of the command shocked all of the combatants into stopping their attacks, all eyes turning to find the source. The shock only increased as the soldiers realized that their monarchs were standing side by side not as adversaries but as equals, though they did not have much time to work through the shock before Elanil and Virnius continued to speak, their voices not only perfectly synced but heard loud and clear by everyone who still lived on the battlefield.

  “Soldiers of Varson and Sonia…enough is enough. This battle…no this war has gone on long enough! Take a good look in front of you…then in back and to your sides. How many of our brothers and sisters have fallen in this pointless conflict? How many families have been completely torn apart left to pick up the pieces?”

  Silence reigned as a sense of uncertainty descended on the soldiers gathered below, but the monarchs continued.

  “We fought thinking that should one side achieve victory in this war, all of the sacrifices would be made worth it and that the victors could do with the losers as they saw fit. In truth we have bled each other dry and ensured that any victory here would leave the victor too weak to establish a lasting peace. Our nations would struggle to recover, only to try once again further in the future and send more of our subjects into the meat grinder of war.”

  Murmurs rippled through the two armies as the monarchs continued their speech, the sense of unease only growing as the futility of the battle was laid bare in front of them.

  “But what if we didn’t have to choose such a bleak future? What if instead of cutting each other and wasting so much of our people’s future, we decided that enough is enough? We were given the chance to reevaluate the path of our people, and have come to a strong conclusion. Separate, elves and humans will forever hate each other and eventually relapse into war. But united? Think of what we could do!”

  As the murmurs grew louder, the duo decided to finish strong, raising their swords together as one.

  “We propose….Varsonia!”

  As they finished speaking, the clouds parted above, letting sunlight wash over the blood soaked battlefield for the first time that day. The silence that followed the speech seemed to draw out for what felt like an eternity until one lone human soldier raised his sword in the air and shouted to the heavens.

  “Varsonia!”

  For a few moments, it seemed like it would just be him until the elf that until recently had been locked in combat with him also raised her spear as well.

  “Varsonia!”

  Two soldiers became four, then eight. Like a ripple, more and more soldiers raised their weapons and cried out their choice to both their respective monarchs and to the heavens until everyone gathered was chanting repeatedly.

  “VARSONIA!”

  With their fateful choice, both the Battle of Resolute and the Dawn War came to a close and the Varsonian Republic was born.

  Discord

  The Die Is Cast (AI Version)