The dawn was pale, gray, and merciless. Mist clung to the river like a shroud, hiding the banks and the men scattered across them. The morning air smelled of ash and wet earth, and the first distant horn from Kaeldor sounded like a warning bell for the dead.
I stood at the edge of Redmere Ford, hands resting lightly on my sword. The river ran behind me, steady, indifferent. Beyond it, the distant banners of Kaeldor caught the weak sunlight. And further still, a second dust cloud rose on the southern horizon—the unmistakable advance of Draeven.
Ril appeared beside me, his jaw tight. "It's worse than I imagined. Two armies, converging."
I nodded slowly, feeling the weight settle in my chest. "They think they control the field," I said quietly. "They do not know we already hold it."
Elven raised a hand, pointing toward the Kaeldor lines. "They're forming for a crossing. Archers, spearmen, cavalry… disciplined. Too disciplined."
I let my gaze drift to the river, watching its currents push against the banks. "Discipline is predictable. People… are not."
We moved fast. Orders barked, shouted, carried over the water. The river townsfolk were armed now—fishermen with sharpened pikes, blacksmiths with crude axes, women with bows stronger than their fingers should allow. Every bend, every sandbar became a choke point. Every bridge a death trap.
"Why aren't they attacking yet?" Ril asked, scanning the Kaeldor lines.
"Patience," I said. "They wait for a signal they'll never understand. And when they strike, it will be on our terms."
By mid-morning, the Kaeldor vanguard advanced cautiously. Spears dipped, shields locked. Cavalry flanked. Archers whispered death from behind the lines. Then, without warning, the river shifted.
The currents were stronger than expected. Boats moored poorly rocked, spilling some militia into the cold water. Panic flared. A man cursed, drawing attention.
I stepped forward, shouting over the chaos. "Hold! The river takes nothing from the brave!"
Silence. Eyes turned to me. Faces hardened. Hands gripped weapons again.
Ril leaned close. "They listen to you, even now."
"They must," I said. "If they doubt, we all die."
The Kaeldor army pushed the first ford. Spears struck out, arrows flew, but the militia held. A fisherman skewered a Kaeldor horseman before falling himself. A dozen others rushed to fill the gap. Blood mixed with river water, slick and thick.
I fought beside them, moving through mud and splintered wood. Every swing, every strike, carried weight. One soldier came at me with a spear. I caught it mid-thrust, twisted, and sent him crashing into the shallow water. He gasped and scrambled, only to find another river guard waiting.
The sound of screaming mixed with horns, the clash of steel, and the shouts of my own men. It was chaos, but it was controlled chaos.
From the south, Draeven's force advanced, marching through the fog. They had expected Kaeldor to push us entirely toward them, a perfect trap.
They were wrong.
I stepped onto a raised mound, waving my arms. "To the south! Force them back!"
Ril's eyes went wide. "You're—"
"Do it," I said. "Now!"
Archers and militia turned south. Boats pushed forward to block crossings. Logs, barrels, anything that could float became obstacles. Draeven stumbled into it, skidding, pushing, hacking at barricades.
The two armies—Kaeldor in the north, Draeven in the south—began to collide, confused and off-balance. Banners crossed.
Screams carried. Spears clashed. Blood soaked the banks, turning the river muddy and dark.
I moved along the river, my sword finding gaps, striking where the enemy least expected. One Kaeldor officer shouted orders, only to be dragged under by a vengeful civilian wielding a pike like a dagger. Draeven soldiers struggled through the barricades. Their cavalry became trapped. Their momentum broke.
Elren fought beside me, his blade singing death. Ril, bloodied but unbowed, shouted commands, redirecting our defenders with precision that only came from desperation.
Somehow, in the chaos, the river became our ally. Currents pulled Draeven soldiers into mud. Horses panicked.
Kaeldor reinforcements couldn't find crossing points.
And all the while, my eyes were on the black banner of Valen Draegor approaching from the south, his horseman riding straight toward the center of the chaos.
By midday, both armies were bleeding, frustrated, and furious. The battlefield had become a maze of bodies, river mud, and chaos. And then, just when neither side could gain control, I made the move that would define the day.
I rode forward, alone, to the narrowest crossing, raising my sword high.
Both armies stopped.
They recognized me.
"Cairos!" someone shouted. "The traitor! The river commander!"
I did not respond. I only pointed south, toward Draeven. Then north, toward Kaeldor.
A simple signal. A single, undeniable truth: if you want this river, you fight each other first.
Confusion rippled. Shouts of orders carried. Misunderstandings. Kaeldor thought Draeven would strike their rear. Draeven assumed Kaeldor had set a trap.
And while they paused, we moved. My militia pushed forward at the flanks. Boats shoved into crossings. Archers fired. Every second counted.
The trap began to close.
As the sun set, casting long shadows across the blood-soaked banks, a single rider broke from Draeven lines. Black banner snapping in the wind. Valen Draegor himself.
He rode fast, straight for me. His eyes cold. His smile unreadable.
Ril stepped beside me, hand on my
shoulder. "This is it," he whispered.
"Yes," I said, tightening my grip on the hilt. "And the river will decide who survives."
The armies held their breaths. The river ran quietly behind us, indifferent.
And then, from nowhere, a horn rang out.
A sound so deep and strange, it carried over the chaos and silenced both armies.
Every man froze. Every banner halted. Even the river seemed to pause.
I looked toward the sound, toward the trees along the northern bank.
And I realized, with a sinking certainty, that we were not alone.
Something worse than Kaeldor. Worse than Draeven. Worse than any army we had faced, was coming.
And it was coming fast.