An extract from The Chains of War

For those entrenched in the mire of Telarym, surrounded by armies on almost every side, it seemed that armour was not enough. Dawn broke over the horizon, invading their eyes, and as much as it announced a new day, it announced a new battle. The stand-off ended, and the armies charged.

Taarí splashed down with their limbs of water, and the Shadowspirits strode forth with their limbs of shadow. The Bororians and the Knights of Issarí braced themselves, shoving halberds and spears into the heart of the angry wind.

They clashed. The strike was like a tidal wave crashing against the stubborn shore. The cries and shrieks grew high and fell, like the wall of water, until the tumult grew so loud that each cry drowned out the other, each shriek silencing the next, until the real sounds that could be heard where each soldier’s own breath, each soldier’s own grinding muscles and clattering bones, and each soldier’s own unnerving thoughts.

Though the Taarí were made of water, they could strike like land. Their weapons were as real as any other’s, and though their tendons and sinews were of another substance, they still made up a body that could hit with great ferocity. Many on both sides fell to the initial attack, and while some Men were knocked dead, some Taarí were cleaved asunder, splashing upon all around them.

The attack from the enemy was swift and unmerciful, for they too had seen the Aelora force further north, which they knew could overwhelm them if they did not destroy or rout the Bororian army. Yet they had an ally of their own in the Shadowspirits, and as much as the Aelora could blind with light, the Molokrán could blind with darkness.

For the forces of good, the reinforcements could not get there soon enough, for even as the Aelora marched towards the desperate clashes, the survivors of the Nahamoni army, which were earlier routed by the army of Boror, began to return to the battlefield, and though their numbers were much smaller now, they were more daring with the support of their allies.

So the battle continued, and those Bororian infantry who pulled back to catch a moment’s breath were hunted down by the invading shadow, until that breath was a final one. The bodies of Men formed little hills upon the flatlands, and the bodies of Taarí formed little rivers between them. Chaos and cruelty fought among them all, and they seemed to every soldier to be fighting for the opposing side.