The Demonlord Chronicles

Chapter III – The Darkness of Light
22.
Srazih groaned and the other Wolven quickly said. “Don’t strain your wounds, no need to stand up.” Instead of the appropriate formal greeting, the tribe leader simply sat down in front of Srazih. The Wolven had attempted to jump up the second he entered, causing her leg to ache. Herbs or not, that damn wound was taking too long to heal.
“I’m sorry I can’t welcome you properly, Renemadmyrha...” she excused.
“There’s no shame in your behavior. Many leaders and War-Khan prefer the safety and stay behind their own rows. Fighting with your warriors at the front line is a deed of honor. Exspecially against this enemys. I’ve heard you were injured whilst covering the retreat of a scouting group?”
Srazih nodded. “I could have avoided the wounds, but I was too slow, I guess.” And probably too tired. Three days since their initial victory, the war has started to drain on her own reserves. How long did she sleep? Two hours? Across two days? No surprise a few humans had actually managed to slice up half of her leg...
“That’s why I have come here. You need a break. A War-Khan can’t order his troops if he isn’t clear-headed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not aiming to overtake your position. But I strongly advise you to leave the command to me, even if just for a few hours. Your body and your mind both need rest.”
Usually Srazih would never agree to such measures... but she knew he was speaking the truth. “12 hours. Try to avoid fights, our casualtys are rising in each battle... our men are worn out, whilst there are still human reinforcements trickling in.” Srazih tried to stand up, hissing through gritted teeth again, before Renemadmyrha reached her his own walking stick.
The old Wolven was visibly sad. “This war is bad for our race... if the old ones have to pass down their crutches to the young... I don’t like talking about this, but did you ever consider surrendering?”
With a grim smile, Srazih managed to get onto her feet, stumbling a step backwards and nearly falling over again, a light spot of red starting to stain the bandage. “No thanks... I neither need a crutch, nor do the Wolven need to sell themselves into slavery. Either we live free, or die whilst trying...” Without another word, she turned around and hobbled out of the tent.
Quickly, she spotted Arderaik approaching her, to her surprise followed by Shadow. “Srazih, you really musn’t run around like that. What do you need, I can get it for you?” Even in times like this, he was worried all about her.
Srazih couldn’t resist a weak smile. “Don’t worry, I’m going to my personal tent, taking a nap... I entrust our men to you. Or rather, that geezer who’s now sitting in the main tent. Watch for him not to do anyhing stupid.” She turned to Shadow. “I’m glad you’re still with us... after what happened to Pestilence and Arma...”
Shadow simply nodded. “It’s fine. I’ll keep fighting to my last breath. That’s the least I can do to avenge them.”
Arderaik brushed over Shadow’s head. “Just don’t kill yourself... I couldn’t stand losing you a second time.”
Curiously, Srazih raised an eyebrow. “Losing him a second time? Arderaik, do you know Shadow from his time before he was forced to live as a Banished?”
The younger Wolven turned his head off Srazih, apparently mustering nearby trees, whilst Arderaik said: “Yes... He’s my younger brother. Though I’ve already learnt he dislikes to be called by his real name...” He pointed at his cheek, where a small strain of fur was apparently missing. “... the hard way.”
Srazih chuckled lightly. “Well, then both of you defend each other. We can’t really afford to loose anymore of our race...” Her face filled with bitterness when she realized the truth in her words.
After the initial surprising victory, the battles have become worse, day by day. Apparently the angels hadn’t exspected any real resistance at all, explaining why merely three of them had participated in battle. The day after the Wolven’s victory, they launched a counterattack, led by twenty immortals. Hemlat had, whilst loosing one beast slayer and five Wolven, accomplished to kill another angel. The Wolven mages had managed to seal ‘a part’ of another angel. Afterwards that specific immortal hasn’t participated in battle anymore, indicating he has been weakened or wounded severely.
However, opposed to these two deaths and a few hundred human casualtys... the Wolven had lost over 500 warriors on the second day. But even worse, in the same night the enemy attacked again, adding another 300 to the death toll.
The third day’s dawn had been filled with mourning and a hasty retreat. There have been a couple of skirmishes, most of them initiated by Wolven seeking personal revenge. Occasionally one of these groups had even managed to win a small fight, as did Mêrr’s panthers. But most of the skirmishes had merely managed to equally rise the body count on both sides... which was bad, given the human’s were now even more severely outnumbering.
And now... the Wolven were waiting, their camp right in front of Srazih’s village. If they lost anymore ground... Ardan... you had your messenger tell me ‘We’ll be there’... where are you...

“They’re coming.” Srazih nearly jumped out of her bedroll when she was woken up by someone talking to her. Her burning and stiff leg made her curse herself for that sudden reaction. She then realized it had been Myra talking. And given she could neither hear the sound of fighting, nor actually any hectic in the camp...
“Who? The human army?” Myra shook her head and Srazih’s eyes lightened up. Seconds after, a loud, bestial roar echoed across the jungle, quickly followed by cheering yells of Wolven.
Myra assisted Srazih in getting up, leading her outside. Rihukan’s body shot past a hole in the tight canopy and the Wolven could see someone falling down from the treetops. With a single, graceful motion, Cyraminon unfolded the large dragon wings on her back, slowing down her fall to a minor descent, before touching the ground.
“Cyra! Is Ardan with you and...” Srazih started, but stupped when she realized the demoness was looking different from before. She was still the same person and shape from before... but she had grown these wings, a tail ending in a lethal, shiny spike and a set of horns, sprouting from her forehead and running down behind her head, similar to how hairs would grow.
Realizing the Wolven was surprised by her new look, Cyra gave her a good view at her profile, posing. “What do you say? Does this accessoirs make me look more freightening?”
“Sort of... I suppose...” Srazih said, grinning slightly. “Probably you will scare humans, but I don’t think you could scare anyone around here... we already know you as our ally.”
Cyra chuckled sinister, responding: “Oh, I’m sure I could freak you out... but I better save those tricks for our enemy. Regarding Ardan, he’s here as well. Or rather, he has arrived in the realm of mortals, though he and our new allies are a couple of miles off this camp. We didn’t want to alert the angels before time...”
The demoness then turned to Myra, mustering her with a strange curiousity. The Wolven merely nodded. “It’s running fine. We’re ready.”

“I’ve never thought something like this would go well... Just watch your soul, cute Wolven. Oh, and Srazih, Ardan asks you and the Wolven not to join the next fight. The next time the human army and the angels attack, he wants you and everyone to retreat. They will then flank the troops and cut them off from their reinforcements... and... well... he really doesn’t want Wolven mortals in that fight, things could get ugly.”
Given Srazih’s questioning look, Cyraminon added: “As in: demonically ugly. You know, it was a pain to even assemble a group of demons without them starting to slaughter each other... Even as a demonlord. We sort of managed to form a few ranks, but Ardan suspects the demons won’t exactly care about friend or foe, but simply destroy and kill anything on the battlefield, eventually excluding each other. Regarding some of them, I’m not even sure whether they could differentiate human and Wolven, at all...”
“I can already our warriors they won’t like running from the fight... but I think by now even the most pigheaded of our warriors should have realized we’re loosing. If I sell it to them as tactical maneuver...Since you said it was hard to gather up the demons at all... how large is your army, in numbers?”
Cyra chuckled audibly. “Oh, counting Ardan, Sennobar, Teyrim, Rihukan nad me, we got five demonlords, a force probably enough to wipe out the humanity as whole. Additionally, we have about four dozen other demons...”
Srazih’s yaw dropped open. “That’s.. you said you had trouble finding many!”
The demoness’ voice became more serious. “Keep in mind... those angels you have been fighting merely were a group of scouts, at best... bringing about fifty demons is not exactly much... We exspect to see 300 angels or upwards when the real fighting starts...”