Kingdom of Ash

contraption, scarves over their mouths.
Firelances.
A horn blasted from the river. And then the
firelances unleashed white-hot flame into
Morath’s ranks, as if they were plumes from
hell. Dragons, all of them, spewing fire upon
their enemy.
Flame melted armor and flesh. And burned
the demons that dreaded heat and light.
As if they were farmers burning their
reaped fields for the winter, Rolfe’s
Mycenians marched onward, firelances
spewing, until they formed a line between
Aedion and their enemy.
Morath turned and ran.
Outright sprinted, their warning cries rising
above the bellowing flames. The Fire-Bringer
has armed them! Her power burns anew!
The fools did not realize that there was no
magic—none beyond pure luck and good