Final part of the Lord of Stone short story. I’m not happy how it turned out, I will probably take everything and rewrite it on the weekend. Until then, any thoughts are appreciated.
Dorian’s warhorse surged forward, leading the charge; it had not been raised and trained by Dorian himself, but it was a good mount, with strong legs and a solid step, who charged fearlessly into battle at the slightest urging – perhaps sensing the mood from its rider, filled to the brim with bloodlust and aggresion as he was. Strange how a man’s mind could wander when faced with life or death situations, how the weirdest details came to his thoughts when faced with the uncertainty of battle. Dorian suppressed it all, seeking the emptiness inside that would bring utter calm, utter detachment.
The horse stepped into the invisible line marking fifty kon to the Walls, and Dorian unleashed hell.
Drawing deeply from his connection with He Who Comes From Below, Dorian Wove the flows of Earth Karma, each thick as a small tree, in intricate patterns that filled his vision, a crisscrossing network of flows and knots just so, forming together a huge and invisible net that only he could sense or see. A smile of triumph came to his lips, unbidden, even as sweat broke on his brow. The sheer power of the Karma he manipulated was enough to get a man drunk, and he could not afford mistakes, not when he and his army were already at 20 kon from the Walls, and impact would mean sure death; it was a fight for survival, his and his soldiers’, a struggle to contain and direct an amount of Karma such as had never been seen since the Fall.
Overlaying his Karma construct on the Walls, Dorian shouted out, calling for the attack, calling for the mad charge against what his soldiers still saw as a solid Wall, even when he already knew the result. They could not see, but they trusted their commander, and they complied; a giant wave of soldiers and horses, men and animals screaming in fear and challenge, exploded into the Shining Walls of Illyrion, until that day undefeated and unbroken. The Karma net actived, and the Walls, so perfect in their defence, so sure of their strenght, turned to dust, the stone melting into sand at the soldiers’ touch.
The Shining Walls turned to ash and scattered into the winds, the impenetrable fortress fell and was defeated, with one man standing in the middle of the carnage, drunk on power, impossibly victorious. All glory to the Lord of Stone, whose very touch withers the hardest rock and bends the strongest metal.