The Iron Forest: Ancestor's Legacy

Sana watched the Stronghold of Tashimur in the distance, getting closer the further her people marched through the mountain valley. The sun hit hard on her back as it began its descent behind the western horizon. The late afternoon rays through sparse clouds painted the valley in a golden yellow. It reminded her of the last time she marched toward Gathal, arms bound with chain on her way to become a servant to Abaddon. The memory of all the pain sent anger flooding through her veins. The Chotukhan will soon feel the vengeance and be reminded of Shayla and Amaya. Two women, whose light in the world was snuffed out by darkness.

She preferred to walk among her people, rather than ride on a bull elk with her uncle and the appointed guards that surrounded him. They called her “queen” and “leader,” but in her mind she was a warrior who would walk and fight among them.

“Queen Sana!” one of the Atani warriors called out from atop a running stag. A second mount rode beside him with an empty saddle. “The general wishes for your presence.”

The general? My what titles we’ve gained. She hopped on the saddle before the creature came to a full stop.

Rajin waited at a massive stone precipice overlooking the distant Tashimur Stronghold. Ahead, a vast field of flat ground spread outward toward the Chotukhan valley with lowland trees skirting the mountains at either side. The keep stood atop a shallow hill within a palisade wall made of muddied pine. The town within looked barren, but she knew soldiers stood ready to defend with sword and arrow.

“So, you’re a general now?” she whispered.

“It had a better ring than ‘Supreme Warrior of all Warriors.’” He chuckled, pointing to the Stronghold. “They’re already setting up defenses. It’s hard to tell, but I think we may have the advantage in numbers.”

She nodded. “The Chotukhan are fools. They don’t see any other tribe as a threat. If nothing else, they’ll want to keep a buffer between us and the castle. We need to send a strong message to King Shunlin that the Shankur are not weak.” She shaded her eyes with her palm to get a better look at the fortifications. “Either way, this will not be easy.”

Rajin nodded, then turned to his warriors. “We will camp here and attack at first light.”

His attendants broke away to set up the defenses needed to hold any possible skirmishers until the next morning. Rajin remained behind since he volunteered to serve as Sana’s right hand and protector. She felt the gesture was unnecessary, but her uncle insisted.

“There are a lot of brave warriors down there,” Rajin commented, looking around. “After tomorrow, people will sing songs about their courage for generations.”

Sana shook her head. “I’m afraid you’re only half correct. For every song sung will be mirrored by tears. Whether or not we are victorious, someone will sing while the other one weeps.”

*****

Sana awoke with a start. Her night spent tossing and turning through a series of bad dreams. They left her breathless with a pounding heart and a frantic terror that lingered upon waking. She sat there, shaking off the dark things that still clawed at her. The blue room, Ikesh’s death, and a litany of what might become, tried to drag her back into the dream world’s madness. Now that she was awake, the feelings dissolved into the reality of her consciousness.

She emerged from her tent to see the moon still high in the night sky with the slightest tinge of dawn, peeking above the mountain to the east. The mixture of the two bathed the valley in just enough blue light to see. The thousands of campfires dimmed to small red dots in the distance.

Not wanting or able to return to sleep, Sana walked alone to collect her thoughts. Her mind wandered to Victor, wishing he was near.

Her stroll brought her up a steep slope to a small plateau that overlooked the mountains in between her and the Iron Forest. Somewhere out there was Victor.

Sana leaned on a tall rocky structure covered in sand and vines. To her surprise, the feature felt warm. She pulled back a handful of vines to expose a section of white steel armor plating. A Guardian, she realized, seeing the shape against the moonlight.

There was a slight reddish glow in the Guardian’s two eyes. Like all of Gaia’s machines, it stared toward the Outlands.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I know you’re in there watching us.” Talking to the machine felt strange. She didn’t know if Gaia was listening, but figured there wouldn’t be any harm in continuing.

“I’m sure you know by now that the Shankur and Chotukhan are about to battle. There is no doubt, many people will die, but I pray it will not be in vain. This war is different. We’re not fighting for lands or power. The tribes have gathered for a greater purpose. We come here for our survival.” She reached out to caress the machine. “We can use your help in this difficult time. Or if nothing else, your guidance.”

Sana breathed in deep to wash away her building anxiety. She took one last look at the Guardian before making her way back to the camp. The machine still stared toward the Outlands like a statue. Looks like Gaia isn’t listening, nor does she care.

A mechanical growl came from behind and Sana spun to see a pair of red glowing eyes in the darkness coming toward her—it was the Guardian. She took a step back, trying to decide whether to fight or retreat.

The Guardian closed the distance…

It sat on its mechanical haunches, letting out a reverberated growl. “Don’t be afraid, child. I will not harm you,” the machine spoke with a woman’s voice.

“Gaia?” Sana asked, glancing around, unsure if this was still part of a dream.

“That is correct.”

Still unsure if this was real, she decided to go along with it. “Are you here to help us?”

“As I told Victor, my directive prevents me from intervening. I have come for a different purpose.”

Sana’s face brightened at hearing his name. “Victor? You saw Victor? Thank the Ancestors he’s okay.”

“Yes. I have spoken with him.”

“If you’re not here to help, then why have you come?” Sana asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I am here to learn about compassion.”

Sana blinked. “Compassion?”

“Yes. Victor told me about the war between Shankur and the Chotukhan. He is willing to defeat Abaddon out of concern for your people. But I know deep down his true concern is focused on you. After some thought, I realized I never learned compassion,” Gaia explained as the Guardian circled Sana. “I cannot protect humans from other humans, but nothing in my protocol says I can’t protect the love between a man and a woman.”

“You have my thanks, but I still intend to fight the Chotukhan.”

The Guardian halted. “I understand and won’t stop you. Take this Guardian as your steed. It will help protect you in battle.”

“Who are you?” Sana asked, unsure if the woman she spoke to was really the goddess everyone claimed.

There was a pause. “Honestly, I’m not sure anymore.”

The Guardian lowered itself to the ground. Armor plates along its back shifted to create a steel saddle. Sana pulled herself up and swung her leg to mount the machine. It rose back up on all four legs, putting her at a height taller than most men.

She returned to camp on the Guardian’s back.

The start of a new day washed away the moon and stars, bathing the land in bright sunlight. Across the valley, drums and horns blared to the rumble of thousands of Shankur lining up in columns and rows with shouts and commands. As she appeared from the mountain slope with spear in hand and sword at her side. The men and women who saw her parted, keeping a wide berth as Sana and the Guardian strolled through the crowd. Even Rajin and his captains stopped to stare with wide eyes, full of disbelief.

“You really go out of your way to make an impression,” Rajin said, adjusting his set of black enameled plate over his boiled leather armor. Even at the threshold of war, Sana found it amusing how he could maintain a cheery attitude. He mounted his bull elk and positioned it at Sana’s side.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She grinned at Rajin who appeared still awestruck at the Guardian. “Size really does matter.”

He laughed. His antlered creature looked more than a fawn next to Gaia’s machine. It moaned and danced with nervousness.

One of the lead captains approached, thumping his chest in salute. “Queen Sana, everyone is positioned and ready to march.”

She nodded, returning the salute. “Very good. Tell your men to spread out until they reach the walls. Our biggest threat will be their archers, so we don’t want to make it easy for them.”

“Yes, my queen.” He disappeared into the gathering crowd.

Sana turned to Rajin. “The initial attack is only to keep the Chotukhan occupied long enough to get the gate open. After that, we shouldn’t have much trouble taking the stronghold.”

“You’re sure you can do this?”

“No, but is anyone ever sure?” Sana patted the steel plate that made up the Guardian’s shoulder. It lurched forward on its four mechanical legs.

The Shankur marched with wooden shields held high. It started slow, at first, but quickened to a near run as they entered the valley’s open flats.

Sana’s heart pounded. Despite her desire to meet the Chotukhan headfirst with spear in hand, Rajin insisted she stay toward the rear for her protection.

The Guardian stood tall enough that she could see the entire battle unfold before her. It didn’t take long for the Shankur to reach the walls of Tashimur. Hundreds of men with dozens of ladders stormed the palisade like human caterpillars. She gnashed her teeth at seeing some Shankur fall to arrows.

Within minutes, the valley erupted with the cries of war. As long as the gate remained shut, many would die.

She looked aside at Rajin, who studied the fight. His jaw clenched at the sight of the lines of warriors breaking.

“This is taking too long.” Before he could reply, Sana belted out a battle cry of her own as she kicked her Guardian forward. It ran past the attacking warriors while dodging arrows.

“Sana! What are you doing?”

She aimed her mount at the massive door of wood and steel. It leaped with claws pitched forward. Several tons of steel pressed against wood, but the wood proved stronger. Arrows whizzed by some pinged off the Guardian and others dug deep into the surrounding dirt.

Sana tossed her spear, sending it through an archer, but there were more. She glanced up the wall that was several times taller than a man. Determined, she used the Guardian’s height and leaped to the top, unsheathing her sword. Not a spear, but it was all she needed to kill the Chotukhan. Barely clearing the palisade, she swung the blade with a fluid arc that parted the first man from chest to gut. Others approached and met her steel with theirs—she spun to attack the man behind her, only to see Rajin.

“Hold them off. I’ll get the gate,” he shouted above the surrounding chaos.

Sana slashed forward enough to retrieve her spear: Her attacks became more lethal. One Chotukhan soldier after another, they fell.

Soon Shankur men and women poured over the walls and through the gate. Sana impaled a soldier and looked to see another, wearing the white and black of the Chotukhan, leaning forward with his hand pressed against a bleeding gut. She reared back for a killing blow, but something stopped the spear from behind.

“It’s over Sana! We won the battle. Tashimur is ours,” Rajin said, keeping a firm grip on her spear’s shaft. His face glistened in sweat, with lines of blood running down his arm.

The fighting stopped.

Everything stopped.

Men and women of the Shankur cheered with victorious delight.

She looked down at her own hands that shined crimson with Chotukhan blood. But it wasn’t enough. Her hate still boiled inside her. “Burn it down!” she bellowed, gesturing to the keep and the surrounding buildings. “All of it. I want King Shunlin to see the fires from Gathal.”