Barricades by Solomon Blaze

‘No’ ‘avin’ seconds though’s are ya’?’ asked Dakar, nudging Vann in the side with his war club.

Vann looks at Dakar with obvious disdain, why did they even send this guy? I told them, I can handle this on my own.

‘Jus stay outta’ my way Dak. Only jump in if – for some yet incomprehensible reason – I get into trouble.’

‘Wha’ever,’ Dakar said before spitting off the edge of the cliff.

At the bottom of the hundred foot drop; a gargantuan plane of dry white dirt, with heat waves billowing up from the cracks on its surface. Roughly twenty miles into the distance; the Crimson Militia and Cobalt Forces, each dressed in their respective colours. Even further past the endless horde; The Tower and their current objective: break through the ceiling of The Tower and see if the legends are true – because if they’re not, than the past five years really have been for nothing; and we’re all fucked...

The sky was a beautiful mid-morning green; the yellow and blue Suns both hanging low on the horizon, reflecting off the moving barricade’s multicoloured armour in a psychedelic fashion.

Roughly ten thousand men on the ground, maybe five thousand in the air, Vann thought to himself as he scanned the enemy, with the kind of precision that comes from either practice, or powers.

Is this seriously the best that the “King of Unison” can throw at me?

‘Right, I’m off.’ said Vann, clenching his fist and leaping from the edge of the canyon, spreading his arms out wide as he plummets down, savouring the taste and feel of the wind running across his skin, before flipping himself over to land with his feet flat on the brittle, bone-dry ground, sending a torrent of rubble upwards and back down again, crumbling to pieces and covering Vann in a thick cloud of sand-dust. His legs quivered slightly then settled after the shock subsided.

From where Vann stood now the ivory white dirt took on the lime green hue of the sky; afternoon Twilight they called it; something you only got in the dessert. Against the colourful horizon, the colourful soldiers were but a colossal silhouette.

Vann started running. He broke into a full-throttle sprint within a split second, the atmosphere roaring past his ears as he tore across the landscape.

The Militias were close enough now to make out in detail; metallic blue helmets with Triceratops horns and a folded steel sword in each hand, accompanied shining rouge chest plates bearing Lions, Tigers and Bears, each with its own cleaver and parrying tanto. Vann felt the familiar anxious uncertainty and couldn’t help but marvel at the King’s ability to unite all peoples under one banner.

~ That sure is a lot of enemies ~ said the imaginary voice in Vann’s head.

I’m not scared...said Vann to the voice.

‘I’m not scared...’ he whispered aloud to himself – not that he could hear it at this speed.

Now it was time.

Vann launched himself the rest of the way towards the stampede of hatred that hurtled itself towards him, letting out a tremendous and desperate battle cry as he dove into the fray;

Fist raised;

Heart pounding;

Soul on fire...