The Deadman

They came suddenly from nowhere.

The Clansmen, the flesh-skin one that resembled these, were thought to be the distant ancestors of the uncolored ones.

“Are there words, truth?”

“It is the truth.”

The Clansmen gathered at the Earthen Bowl. The one in the center of the bowl was the clan leader that visited the ones who have become metal.

“They come to this place and speak of the destruction of our world. She-Magus is determined for our eradication. She says that if we lay our bonds down, she will allow sanctuary and mercy.”

The one with the red skin chuckled like he’s scratching his throat doing so. 

“Mercy… are we cattle?”

“What?”

“I say, are we cattle?”

The man stood up, revealing the compressed muscles underneath the leather over his marble-like body. On his lap was a blackened axe with a jade handle.

“These outsiders come to this place. They demand our death and you speak of mercy? Have you no shame at all? Or has the peace made you all forget that we are warriors, not cattle?”

The red skinned ogre let out a snort at them full of disdain. The one in the middle could only sigh at this bravery. Like the uncolored ones, he, who could speak their tongue, had understood that their pride of strength had not seen what the men who are part steel could do.

Tasks that couldn’t be done are finished within an hour. Buildings that would take months to complete are built by their floating metal within days.

They carve the land easily and then use metal birds to take them away. He had seen them personally and he understood that they make use of no magic, and could guess that they are tools.

They carry metal that allows them to move freely and weapons that they  hold on their arms. His wards had seen what these weapons could do and those who found themselves at the mercy of these weapons were annihilated, as if poked by spears without mercy.

They did not understand and their pride as a warrior does not allow them to see clearly.

He insists that they listen and yet the more he speaks. The more he saw the disappointment in their eyes. They did not want to listen.

Who would listen to a man who insists on turning them meek like cattle?

His words abandoned him at the earthen bowl’s colored ones choose to fight in the name of their own kind.

He leaves the earthen bowl while hearing the angered words of the fanged men. The aide that came with him walked with him. He understood that there was a disparity that they couldn’t understand. They have not seen the potential of the men with steel on them.

They simply did not understand what they were about to fight.

“Is it wise to give up on them?”

“Not. But if we cannot persuade our friends to bend their knees and ask for mercy… then that is their choice. We are not warriors, friends.”

 

***

 

A war band was formed upon the colored. Red, Blue, Green, and Gray gathered and carried their totems on their back. They gather on the spotted plains alongside the warty glades. Trying to cover themselves from the sights of the Men In Steel.

They advanced forward with fifteen thousand strong warband. Carrying their sharpened weapons, bringing in their Shamans that granted their marks with blessings of strength and speed.

It was during the dawn when their sun was blocked out by pieces of shell that covered the entire sky. As they approached, the skies, as if they had signed their death, plagued the entire field with shells upon shells that exploded.

The skies broke and the metal vessels from the skies, numbering hundreds appeared, creating this boom that spread across the plains and the glades.

He saw the barrels of their flying vessels popping out of their hulls. Their sky ships released beams of light that blew the fields, cracking the mantle, and carving the land.

The rain of steel led to a massive charge forward.

Those who were too slow to take cover were trampled by their own kin. Their mangled bodies were blown to pieces as the continuous air bombardment tore them apart.

As they continued on desperately, the skies broke again from a distance, like thunderclaps echoing from a distant horizon. They saw rods of steel dropped on their heads. The Shamans and the Druids, who protected them, were able to defend their line.

And yet the seemingly infinite firepower coming from that cleared up land continued. They crossed the bald jungles, and took cover within the trees, only for their jungles and their trees to burn.

The fifteen thousand strong army continued. The war hordes that came from east and west tried to flank the encampment, and yet they suffered the same fate as their sky vessels broke the sounds and clouds, tearing them apart. The slopes of the green, where the shy plants were commonly found were burnt to the crisp and from miles the forests and plants of the eastern glades burned as their fight continued.

The jungles didn’t provide cover as they burned them to drive them away. The totems that held their courage directed them forward, their arms and legs navigating the obstacles that were on their way.

Dozens of creatures, the long-legged ones, and the long nosed ones ran from the fire and the burnt flesh alongside the view of these creatures being burnt left a mark on the eyes of those who would hunt them for food.

The green jungle that they thrived on was burning. Unfortunately, their wrath fueled them, and with a grim determination, they marched forward, not minding their losses, thinking that if they just entered the vicinity of these Men In Steel, they would pay the price.

They would be able to shed their blood on their burning lands. And they would display their internals and spread it so they would become tribute.

 

But that is a mere dream as of the moment.

Even when their sky riders from the Southern Forests appear. The sky vessels, and their metal birds tore them apart. It was quite a view, seeing the bits and pieces of these majestic flying creatures become a rain of spoils and blood.

Entering the valley where they bald the land. Their Shamans who had carried their armies to the other side of the forest strengthened their bodies, the marks and tattoos gave a luminescent light as their eyes glowed with malice.

A roar sounded.

The thousand-strong army that remained charged forward, only to be met by a barrage of iron pebbles that tore through their bodies and burnt their innards. Each shot blows a piece of their bodies.

Then, the thunderclap sounded, they heard a rumble on the enemy's encampment and rose from their base as hundreds of rods and shells came down upon them.

Those who had the most marks that were able to endure had their heads blown apart. Pieces of their painting the ground. The sky that provided them light grew cloudy as the smoke from the enemy continued. The warriors who have a sharp smell and hearing were robbed of their senses. Ears bleeding and disoriented as the continuous sounds resembling that of thunder blasted on their ears.

When the sounds were gone.

When the skies cleared.

The fifteen thousand strong army understood that the closer they got, the fiercer the power their enemies unleashed.

Their courage and wrath broken. The warriors who understood what was happening ran back to the dense forest, their heads blown apart as they tried to leave.

Those who were able to return to their homes saw a different sign. Their home was covered in blood and they saw their kin with their knees bent, with weapons pointed on their heads.

Their anger rose and the moment they rushed forward with their bladed weapons.

The heads of their kin blew apart. The enemies who surrounded their tribe turned their attention to them and blew them away. One of them managed to come close, and swung his axe with all of his might, only to find his axe unable to dent their armor, as if the force that he let out were spread evenly on their armor.

Stunned, the Man Clad In Bulky Steel threw a punch that shattered the skull of that warrior. His knuckles pierced through the face, breaking the skull.

The Men Clad In Bulky Steel were as strong as their marked warriors. They traded blows and then they found out why that uncolored one wanted them to bend the knee.

It wasn’t that their arms were devastating. Even their warriors were capable of defending themselves despite their assumptions that they could break them if they came close.

Hundreds of hamlets belonging to the colored ones were put to the sword. Fire spread across their world, with their largest settlements caved in by the constant bombardment that came from the sky.

 

***

 

His people were unharmed.

The Men In Steel who had allowed them in welcomed them as they carried their knowledge to their encampment, with a white cloth tied on a stick to signal that they were bowed.

There She-Magus welcomed them alongside two men whose heads had steel on them. They were not entirely flesh and their eyes had a strange glow that differed from normal eyes.

“You made a wise choice.”

“Here is our knowledge,” he said. “We hope that our plains and glades will remain. That we are left alone.”

“It will be. The Madam is reasonable. Your allies were unable to comprehend this fight.”

A vessel appeared and landed on the side. He saw the leaders that attended the Earthen Bowl with their necks strapped with metallic objects that seemed to weaken them.

The Red-skinned one shouted at him.

“YOU COWARD LEAD THEM TO US. HOW ELSE WOULD THEY KNOW OUR FACES?”

The metal around their neck created small streaks of lighting and muted the red-skinned one. They were dragged to the side with their mouths covered and their knees planted on the ground.

“What did they say?”

“They say that I will lead you to them.”

“We did. You must understand that we simply couldn’t trust you until we have confirmed it.”

A floating eye that seemed tiny appeared and landed on the man beside the She-Magus.

“It was for surveillance purposes. It proved useful to us.”

His heart sank at the thought of him being the cause of their leader's demise.

“We are grateful for your service and yet we have questions that we would like to be answered.”

The She-Magus showed him the image of the tower that stood at the center of the world.

“That is the place of the Weruda… do you intend to face the Master?”

“I don’t. But my Madam will have words with this Weruda that you speak of.

“Does your Madam need my words?”

“No. What you bring us will be enough for the Madam. You will be given transport, and allowed to choose the place that you want to remain. We will allow you enough land to sustain yourselves and in case of drought and famine, you will be given aid. You’ve given us a favor. Your lands will remain yours and your freedom under us assured.”

Then something broke inside of him.

Something that shamed him so deeply and yet the thought of those who are Dear soothed that shame.

The space broke and what appeared before everyone was a woman clad in a long robe and armed with a staff engraved with runes.

The worship in the eyes of the people around him made him understand who this figure was.

“Madam, you’ve personally come?”

“Yes, Helena. Barnes, are the races subjugated?”

“We have captured their leaders and broken their backs. One of them capitulated.”

The Madam’s steely eyes landed on him.

“You’re wise to do so. I will keep our word. We will not interfere and you will be given sanctuary. For now, I have a business with this ‘Weruda’ you speak of.”

The Madam floated as if she’s carried by the wind.

Her figure approaching the tower on the far distance.

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