sbdcsierra Chapter 601: You need to move.
Chapter 601: You need to move.
The sixth day in the Stormcallers’ territory began with silence.
Not the peaceful kind, it was the kind that came after screaming had already been used up.
Stormcaller territory was... in ruin.
Their terraces were still there, but they looked broken now. Stone steps were cracked, rope lines had snapped and were tied back together with ugly, rushed knots, several shelters were simply gone, leaving black patches on the cliff face where fires had eaten wood and hide.
The screaming winds were still there, of course. None of the destruction below made the sky above any more merciful.
The Stormcallers moved, working together to fix the mess that was made, they pulled debris aside, carried the wounded down into the inner caves, dragged burned feather cloaks that no longer had their owners out of the snow, shaking ash off them with stiff hands.
This was what they had been ever since he came.
A man in the sky.
A man who controlled the very storm they prayed to.
They remembered the sight, they remembered it well. The image was practically burned into their minds.
Homes folding like paper, people falling into the white nothing below, lightning falling from the sky, burning everything in its path.
The Stormcallers were proud and brave, but that didn’t stop that man.
Even when he attacked alone, even when their strongest warriors came out to face him, they were still... helpless.
In less than an hour, they lost way more than they had in ANY battle and that made the Stormcallers question.
Who was he?
The Stormcallers called him a ’God.’
When they first heard it, they laughed but...
When they saw him, when they felt and took the brunt of his rage, they... they started to believe it...
That being stood in the middle of the most dangerous storms, storms that even they, as beings who had studied storms for generations, were always careful against and he...
He controlled it.
Who could do it if not a God?
And...
If he really was a God then...
Why go against him?
Could humans truly win against... a God?
The majority of Stormcallers had begun to wonder, they had started to doubt their absoluteness now.
And because of this—
The Stormcaller Leaders were troubled and had gathered in the Meeting Hall.
"We lost too much."
One of the Leaders spoke in a solemn tone.
No one disagreed with that, just one look outside was enough to confirm the statement.
Another leader, a younger man with lightning tattoos crawling up his neck, slammed his fist into his knee.
"He came into our sky, into our storm!"
He was angry.
"And he wasn’t hurt..."
A woman leader muttered.
She didn’t seem angry, she seemed more... confused, afraid even.
The same question that bothered most Stormcallers bothered her as well.
How did he survive standing at the very heart of the Storm? And... what was that power he used? Were... humans supposed to have that power? Power to control... Storm?
For Stormcallers who believed storms granted visions and gave them power... the appearance of a being who could control the very Storm they prayed to...
It was... overwhelming.
The other elders were no different, they too, seemed troubled.
And while the Meeting Hall was already down, a warrior stepped in with a hurried, desperate look on his face.
"The reports are true."
He spoke directly.
"What...?"
One of the Leaders frowned.
"Along with the Stonefangs, the Borealis Herd, the Shardpeak Tinkerband, the Rimewood Kin, the Cinderstep Nomads and the Emberfolk, all their ancestral Lands have been abandoned."
The instant those words were said, the room went silent.
The meaning behind abandoned lands was clear.
They chose to side with the Velmourns.
It was... humiliating to think about, especially considering these were the tribes they had been approaching consistently, with better deals, offers and more food but were rejected again and again for various reasons.
And now...
Now they even abandoned their lands because the Velmourns approached them?
It was nothing different than slapping their faces.
The Stormcaller Leaders’ faces twitched in anger as they thought about it.
"It is him.
The Flying Man."
The woman leader spoke with a solemn look on her face.
"According to the reports, they are offering food and protection against the ’Stormcallers who have brought outsiders’ in the Heights."
A Leader muttered, this was what he heard from the Frostvein Tribe that the Velmourns tried to recruit.
"Heh, to think an outsider would say those words."
Another Leader snorted.
"Those fools believe it."
The Stormcaller Leaders snorted again.
"We need to do something."
One of them spoke up and as he did, he turned towards the other end of the meeting hall where... ’they’ were sitting.
The ’outsiders’ the Velmourns were talking about.
Their faces were hidden, but the Stormcallers knew how terrifying and resourceful these beings were, not only had they provided them with enough food, they gave them artifacts they had never seen, they trained their army into what it was today and they promised them a stronger future if only they did what they wanted them to do.
And now—
When it seemed like everything was going against them, the Stormcaller Leaders had no choice but to turn towards them.
"Our forces are damaged."
The Stormcaller Leader spoke carefully.
"Our morale is at its lowest, it is only a matter of time till the news spreads and the tribes that are with us have second thoughts.
We are not ready for war."
And the answer came in an instant.
"You are ready enough."
The leader’s jaw tightened.
"We planned to gather every single tribe to overwhelm them with numbers.
To break the Wall with certainty."
Another Stormcaller leaned forward.
"After what happened, we need time.
We need to rebuild.
We took the full brunt of his attacks, unlike you who just ran aw—"
He didn’t complete his words, he widened his eyes, terrified of what he had just said in the spur of the moment.
"I did not mean tha—"
He tried to explain himself but—
"You no longer have time.
You need to move.
And you need to move now."
The cloaked figures had decided.