The Fire they brought

The battlefield was a storm of blood.

Nine moved like something raised by the trees themselves—face streaked with mud and crimson, feet bare, his breath loud and ragged as he carved through the chaos. Tribal warriors screamed beside him, slamming bone clubs into steel armor, driving sharpened sticks through throats. The sound of it all—crunch, snap, wet ripping—echoed under the night sky like a chant of death.

To his left, an Earthling grabbed an enemy by the legs and swung him like a whip into five others, crushing their bones with a sickening crack-crack-crack.

To his right, another warrior was dragged screaming by roots into the underbrush, only for the brush to vomit blood seconds later.

They were winning.

They were tearing them apart.

For once… it felt like hope.

Then the air changed.

No warning. Just a feeling. A wrongness that stilled even the Earthlings mid-swing.

Nine's blade stopped inches from a soldier's throat.

The sky pulsed red.

Then came the sound.

WwwRRRRRRMMM.

A vibration—so deep it moved through bones, through flesh, through teeth. The ground beneath his feet trembled.

"What's that?" someone gasped.

Nine turned—

And saw it.

The sky was on fire.

No metaphor. Literal fire, churning in spirals above like a storm had been set ablaze.

Then it dropped.

A column of flame—thick, red, and alive—fell from the heavens and slammed into the battlefield ahead.

BOOM.

The world screamed.

The earth buckled beneath it, splitting. Trees exploded. Warriors—tribal, invader, Earthling—were flung like dolls. Limbs flew. Blood steamed in the heat.

Nine's ears rang. His body flung backward. He hit the ground hard, dirt in his mouth.

Screams. Deafening screams.

He looked up, face twisted in horror.

And he saw the impossible:

Fire raining. In waves. On command.

Someone shouted above the roar—

"THEY BROUGHT MAGES—!"

The words cut through the panic like a knife.

Another blast hit the ridge behind him.

An Intruder was running. Gone in a blink—his body burned into ash before his feet stopped moving.

Nine tried to stand.

He didn't get the chance.

A third column of flame dropped right beside his—so close, she felt her skin begin to cook.

And that's when he came.

An Earthling—twenty feet of ancient bark and root—threw himself between him and the fire.

"MOVE!" he roared, slamming him with a massive arm—

He flew.

Mid-air, he heard the Earthling screaming as his bark caught flame, moss turning black, roots curling in pain.

He burned.

Ancient. Massive. And he burned.

"NOOO!" Nine cried, voice hoarse.

Before he hit the ground—

Dagi.

The eagle dove from the smoke, massive wings catching him mid-air with a screech that shook the ash from the trees.

"Hold on, Nine!" Dagi's voice screamed in his head.

Nine clutched his feathers, eyes wide in panic.

But they weren't safe.

Another flame dropped—from above and behind.

Dagi twisted—

Too late.

His wing caught fire.

He screeched, twisting in the air, his body convulsing.

"I'VE GOT YOU—"

Then—

Crash.

They spiraled into the field like a broken comet.

Dagi hit the ground—hard—and Nine flew off him like a ragdoll.

His head slammed into a stone.

Black.

He didn't go under… not fully.

Just dazed. The world became slanted and distant. His body screamed from the burnt of the fire, but his mind drifted that he couldn't feel the pain.

Then came the echoes.

"WHERE IS HE?!"

"He's down—NINE IS DOWN—!"

"They're not stopping—"

"What fire is this?! IT'S TEARING THE EARTH!"

"They brought mages with them—THEY BROUGHT MAGES!"

"Fall back—FALL BACK—!"

"It's not just mages. Look at the sky—look at the damn sky!"

The battlefield rumbled again.

The mountain far beyond—deep in the north—shook.

Inside its caves, among the slumbering Earthlings not yet awakened—

Their leader stirred.

He opened his glowing eyes, ancient and furious.

And spoke one word that hadn't been uttered in a thousand years:

"Fire."