Their wrynn soared through the clear golden sky, riding the currents that ruffled its dark blue feathers. It was a calm flight, free of any buffeting winds. Thael gazed down to see the glowing blue barrier that stood a hundred feet high between the Heartlands of Arcadia and the plains of Umbra. Known as the Sundering, it spanned as far as the eye could see.

A V-formation of birds below flew into the wall of blue light. No bird passed through to the other side, and Thael squinted to see the scattering of ash falling to the mound of such remains below. Only Umbran citizens could pass through the wall unscathed. One merely had to renounce their faith in the monarchy and the gods that had blessed them to be Enlightened in the Umbran faith that believed in no god.

Those people were known as Godless. Traitors. Heretics. Those that must be cleansed. So was the Grey will. So was the arch queen’s will.

The caravan of people ambled below. They were a horde of a few hundred, shepherded by the Umbran priests that did not call themselves priests but Engineers, converting Arcadians through their knowledge of sorcery. Building roads and structures not thought possible along with other unnatural deeds, following the deviled path of the Mythic that would bring about the wrath of the gods. So it was said, at least.

They never looked skyward. Possibly due to the lines of horsemen waiting between them and the Sundering. The arch queen herself was said to be present, hidden away amongst the ranks of mages and more numerous mortalborn soldiers.

The mob halted a hundred or so meters away from the host. The wrynn circled above, giant carrion waiting for their feast. Someone was shouting, and so loudly his voice echoed throughout the crisp silence.

One man atop his horse, surely a mage, had stepped out from the neat files of soldiers blocking the crowding men, women, and children’s path. The men of the mob formed a loose line themselves, the women and children edging towards the sides. Still more Godless followed behind with mules and even wagons carrying their many supplies and those too feeble to journey on foot.

It was known as the Great Enlightening, the migration of mortalborn Arcadians converted by the Umbran heresy.

A smaller line of figures dotted the ground, standing out from the mass of the Godless, dark amidst the sun’s golden light. The Umbran priests. They were holding weapons of some sort, as black as their armor. Sudden noise echoed across the plains. Fire spouted from the points of their weapons, and horsemen fell by the score, including the mage who had turned his horse round in panic, only to fall to the ground.

Mages Thael knew to be metalcrafters halted part of the furious volley that the Umbrans loosed, but not all. The cavalry charged forward, the mob wielding pitchforks and scythes and even wooden stakes behind in support of the Umbrans, who wielded tower-shields imbued with their magic.

Some of the crowd swarmed to the sides, only to be run down by the coordinated formations of horsemen, cut down with spear or sword.

Still the Umbran priests continued to send out more of their metal missiles, flames bursting out from the maws of weapons.

The cavalrymen closed the distance between the Umbrans. The rabble of men stepped forward behind them, the roars and cries of the still living sounding out as the horsemen collided against the Godless.

People were escaping around the battle, such was their numbers, even though there were companies of cavalry roving from the backline in front of the Sundering. Still, some made it past the wall of shimmering blue, some horses with their riders still charging past to burn to cinder and charred bone.

Their wrynn dove to meet those that had escaped through, plunging over the Sundering into the ground on the other side, scattered soil pluming from their talons.

“Form up,” Thael ordered once they had descended. He stood in between Verena and the others, five in total. Thael knew their Wraithbound cloaks, their Shrouds, would cover them in darkness. Other cadres joined their line until there seemed to be a blanket of shadow surrounding the Godless.

They retreated from their coming darkness, soon cornered, their backs to the Sundering, all that separated them from the horsemen that dismounted to stand in wait with bared blades. From the knot of women and youths , several dark figures emerged – the Umbran priests, armored in black.

“Stay behind us!” one such priest roared in guttural Cadish.

Fire thundered and flashed from the points of their weapons, piercing through their Shroud. Wraiths fell. They charged forward. More Wraiths fell.

“Get down, all of you!” Thael yelled.

He began to crawl towards the priests, shadows still smoking over them. They were still at least a hundred steps away. They had been cut down to less than half their number. Blood trickled down to sting Thael’s eyes. He wiped them with the back of one fist and continued to crawl forward, the others following.

Thael was first to stand, followed by the rest. The priests stood in wait, calm. Too calm. Coldness welled over his chest, chilling his neck down throughout his body. He held out a fist, pausing.

Some of the other cadres rushed forward. Mages summoned forth their craft, daggers flying. The Umbrans bent down to set something on the ground. Walls of blue light ten feet high connected to each of the beacons they placed. The elemental assault faded into their sudden magic. Those charging at the forefront were cut in twain by the sudden barrier. Eventually, the Wraiths halted their attack. The Godless were trapped on both sides.

Shadow swirled and cowered away from the blue light of the barrier.

The Umbrans stood stoic, the mass of people they defended holding their remaining loved ones, soft weeping heard in the stillness.

Then they descended. Dark figures that flew down from the sky, their crimson cloaks billowing with their descent. The figure at their center, taller than a tall man, turned to them. She was a beautiful woman. Green eyes flitted between them. Long raven hair waved down her pale pointed face. She smiled.

“Stand down, everyone, for your arch queen has come.”

She and her magi wore dark armor that seemed to absorb the light.

“Give me back my people, you fucking demons!” the Arch Queen screeched with sudden venom. “Their blood. All of their blood… is on your hands.”

“You are a monster, and you shall die a monstrous death,” one of the Umbrans said. “It is inevitable for one such as you.”

The priests discarded their weapons in favor of dual wielding swords that shone with a strange light a greenish blue crystal, akin in color to the Sundering, double edged and tapering to sharp faceted singular points.

“I offer you former citizens of Arcadia a swift death,” the arch queen announced. “Step forward and you shall be welcomed back into the next world, compared to these lying heathens.”

“It is you who lies, bitch!” one of the women called out. “We would rather die Enlightened, knowing our fates then be ruled under your savage ignorance!”

The rest of the survivors began to curse the arch queen, and she laughed in answer.

Thael heard her order, “I want the Umbrans alive. Kill the rest. Wraiths! Kill these Godless. They have lost their way, and must be granted mercy despite their transgressions. So it is said! So it shall be remembered!”

Helms black as obsidian formed over the mages’ heads. The arch queen and her circle of magi stepped towards the barrier. The Umbrans merely stood still.

The magi paused, inches away from the wall of magic. They began to beat upon the barrier with their armored fists and feet. Blow after blow, the walls of light Thael knew would burn any mortal man stuttered with their force. Their sanguine capes fluttered with their movements, flames eating away to spread into mantles of fire that withered to ash, revealing their armor underneath. Thael had never seen such armor, like a second skin that flexed and coiled like metallic muscle, yet dark as their Shroud. The walls whined and squealed with every deafening strike, flickering away until there was nothing that protected those trapped.

One of the priests threw something skyward, calling out, “Run now! All of you!”

An ear splitting bang was followed by a flash of light that blinded Thael, and all he could hear was the arch queen’s laughter.

Thael knelt down, and he felt hands shove and bodies jostle past him. He thrust out a sword, felt it scrape against bone and heard a gasp. A woman. He fell down with her. Gradually, his vision returned

The woman’s dark eyes fluttered frantically to the sky. Thael turned his head to see the other Wraiths run after the scattered crowd, flinging daggers or magic in their wake. He looked out from the other side to see Verena standing still. He staggered up and turned to witness the arch magi engaged in melee with the Umbran priests.

The priests moved as efficiently as trained soldiers, avoiding their attacks and striking back with their own blue hued swords. Their blades glanced off the magi, blue sparks grazing off their black liquid armor. The magi eventually had the last few priests surrounded.

The arch queen herself raised a hand as they beat down upon the remaining priests, leaving one to stand alone. She stepped to face him. He held his shimmering swords out in grim defiance. His helm unfolded into itself, revealing his dark copper skin. He stood still, his cloak waving gently in the wind.

The ach queen, she was speaking.

Thael stepped closer despite Verena’s warning. He now heard the arch queen’s words, “—nevertheless, you will fight me, Umbran.”

The priest scoffed. “I will do no such thing.”

He thrust one sword into his chest, hilt deep, its greenish blue blade sprouting out through his back. The other sword he planted into the earth, holding it as he collapsed to one knee. He gasped, blood dripping from his mouth, head nodding down.

The arch queen sighed, kicked away his held sword, and knelt before him.

“You fool. You won’t die quick enough,” she said.

Her fingers held the Umbran’s face with seeming tender care. The man howled as she dug her thumbs into his eyes, driving his head into the ground, his cries soon turning into ragged gasps.

She stood, flicking her blackened hand to her mageguard.

“Take him away.”

Thael stood silent as she walked over to him.

“Ah, a herald of my will. Remind your order of our divine power, and why we were given such gifts. To protect our flock, and purge such wickedness from our lands.”

Thael nodded. He would do no such thing. They flew overhead and left him standing alone beside Verena, screams still ringing in the distance behind them. He did not know why such people did what they did, and how they came to do what they could do. What he did know, however, as he stared skyward at their ascension, was that such people with such power deserved no less than the death he had just witnessed.