The symphony of battle began its prelude. The choir of screaming villagers. The percussion of feet pounding on the wooden bridge as Barley and the tariaksuq charged at each other. The violin-shrill bugling of the creatures' war cries.

The sun dipped, stripping the clouds of their golden hue. The red light of torches shone down from the village above as the sky turned to deep purples, the antlers of the tariaksuq shining in the darkness, as silver as the moon.

They were illuminated tally marks—if Barley weren't rushing forward like a bull, he could have counted the odds. Forty tallies, each several feet long and pronged and spiked, two to a beast. Only four people to stop them.

Hawthorn trailed Barley a few feet back, but Archie and Nori had fallen well behind. Barley did not wait for them. He charged forward, quarterstaff held high over one shoulder, his fearsome roar signaling the start of the symphony's second movement.

Barley knew there were too many. They ran four abreast across the bridge, their antlers clacking against each other as their heads swung back and forth through the air. But that didn't stop Barley. There wasn't even a choice. They wanted to destroy his home. He had the best chance of stopping them.

Hawthorn knew there were too many. Fortunately for Barley, Hawthorn still had enough of a head on him to know that they couldn't withstand the charge. He dropped to the ground at the start of the bridge, slapping his hands on the wood. Bamboo stalks sprouted one after the other between Barley and the charging tariaksuq, forming a wall across half the bridge.

Two of the front four creatures crashed into the bamboo wall with a resounding crack! Any stalks that broke were quickly replaced by Hawthorn as he added layer after layer to the wall.

The other two tariaksuq competed to be the first through the gap, causing one to crowd the other one out and pushing it into the river. The sounds crescendoed as they blended together—the cracking of the bamboo, the splash in the river, the screams of the villagers, the shrill bugles of the beasts, the throaty roar of Barley, the hollow clonk-clonk-clonk of hooves, the thunderous thud-thud-thud of Barley's feet.

But no sound was as loud as the first blow. Barley met the tariaksuq in the chokepoint, the creature lowering its silver antlers as it sprinted forward, a hundred points aimed at Barley's chest. He brought his quarterstaff down hard, slotting it between those prongs, the impact clearing every other sound from the air.

Crack!

Splinters of glowing bone exploded off the antlers, stinging Barley's cheeks. The tariaksuq folded under the immense force of Barley's quarterstaff. Its head slammed into the ground as its legs buckled. After a momentary daze, it opened its gaping jaw and lunged at Barley's ankles.

But Barley had already taken a step back and prepared his next blow. His quarterstaff swung up behind his back and down on top of the tariaksuq. He hit skull, not antler, but the impact still produced the sound of cracking bone.

There was no time to celebrate. A second tariaksuq came stumbling over the first, charging at Barley as he swung his quarterstaff over his shoulder. He didn't have the momentum of his previous charge, so while his quarterstaff connected solidly between the points of the tariaksuq's antlers, the blow did not take the beast to the ground.

The tariaksuq's strong tree trunk of a neck absorbed the blow. It lifted its antlers up toward Barley's stomach as it charged forward. But it did not find Barley. It found only a minty fog.

Barley's quarterstaff swung through the fog, catching the tariaksuq's flapping lower jaw and separating it from the beast's face. Barley set the rhythm of battle with his uninterrupted assault, puffing another cloud into the face of the tariaksuq and preventing it from seeing the end of the quarterstaff as he jabbed it into the monster's eye. It screamed as it stumbled backwards and fell into the river.

The symphony reduced itself to the cracking of bamboo and the distant shrieks of villagers, resting with Barley for a moment. He looked down at the first fallen tariaksuq. Its antlers were a broken crown, a third of it chipped away, and its head had been mashed flat. It still breathed, unable to lift itself, Barley letting it lay there so that it might block the path of the next beast. He looked up for it as he grounded his feet, quarterstaff raised.

He had dispatched two, another two tangled up in a growing wall of bamboo, but many more remained on the other side of the bridge. They had watched the initial skirmish, their shrill bugling egging the others on. They were primal, but they were intelligent. One stepped forward, then ran, its hooves beating harder and harder against the wood as it sped up, a quickening drumroll that took them to the third movement of their song.

Barley filled his lungs with essence and puffed out enough fog to cover the entire gap of the wall, but the thundering hooves did not relent. They slammed against the ground harder than ever in one final cymbal clash. There was a split second of silence. No steps.

Barley had anticipated that the fallen tariaksuq would slow down the next one's charge. He had anticipated that his fog would make them pause.

Barley was wrong.

The tariaksuq burst through the fog with a great leap, stretching horizontally with its antlers pointed at Barley, a spear throwing itself in desperate assault. Barley crashed his quarterstaff into the antlers and flung the creature's head aside, but the beast had come at him with too much momentum. As its antlers passed harmlessly, it swiped its claw across Barley's tricep, taking three ribbons of skin with it as it landed behind him.

Barley's pain weighed nothing compared to his determination. He carried the momentum from his first swing, spinning to deliver a crunching blow to the tariaksuq's ribcage. The beast buckled to one side, exposing its neck. Barley did not let the opportunity go to waste. The tariaksuq let out a screeching bugle as it saw death descend upon its neck, the crack! of Barley's quarterstaff silencing it forever.

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Even as Barley looked up at the village behind him, he readied his quarterstaff and planned his next move. Hawthorn remained fixed to the ground, his bamboo fortifications giving Barley the luxury of single combat. Nori was bent beside Hawthorn placing piles of conjured lemons along the sides of the bridge, shouting for him to hold them off as she set down explosives. And Archie—

A blueberry zipped past Barley at a speed he couldn't track. He turned as Archie's second blueberry hit a charging tariaksuq in the face, making it turn its head and leaving it blind. Barley did not let this opportunity go to waste either. He swung his quarterstaff in a devastating uppercut, lifting the lumbering monstrosity off its feet.

Barley eyed the neck of the creature, ready to attack, but a second tariaksuq lunged forward, forcing Barley to block. His quarterstaff locked up in the antlers, the dozen points of its crown scraping and cutting Barley's arms. He swung his arms down and his knee up, catching its chin in a doubly powerful blow. There was a pop!, but Barley couldn't be sure if it had come from him or his target, his leg burning in an agony that even adrenaline couldn't mask.

He leapt backward off his good leg, pulling his quarterstaff out of the antlers. But before he could gain his footing, a third tariaksuq emerged, their assault unrelenting.

This one kept its head high and swiped at Barley with its elongated claws. He blocked it once, twice, three times, each of the beast's downward strikes getting closer than the last. For as tall as Barley was, the tariaksuq was taller. For as strong as Barley was, the tariaksuq was stronger.

But Barley was a Chef.

He puffed a cloud of fog in the tariaksuq's face and brought his quarterstaff down hard on the tariaksuq's leg. The bone snapped and pierced through its hide.

As it fell, it swung its head in one last desperate attempt, one of its prongs piercing Barley's forearm. Barley roared as he swung, the prong breaking off in his skin, his quarterstaff swiping the tariaksuq to the side. His eyes followed it just long enough to see the river. Ten luminous antlers stuck out of the water as more beasts swam around the bridge.

Barley considered what just one loose tariaksuq could do to his village. To his family.

"Archie! The river!"

Barley did not have a chance to see if his instruction landed, but he heard the whizzing sound of blueberries flying through the air, meeting antler with a pleasing crackle. He looked back up the bridge to see two tariaksuq pass through the wall and stand side-by-side. He had given them too much purchase, and Hawthorn had abandoned his wall in order to fight a tariaksuq that had already swam across the river.

And then, outnumbered two to one, Barley realized how tired he was. The sleeves of his orange jacket had deepened to red, hardly any fabric left covering his forearms. He realized how out of breath he was. It was one thing to run as far as he had. It was another to fight as hard as he had. And it was another thing still to have used his breath on mint magic.

Where fatigue washed away adrenaline, fear grew in Barley. His sweaty, numb hands slid around his quarterstaff looking for grip. He put his weight on one leg, his other knee suffering a stinging pierce each time he stepped with it. His body had little fight left to give, but his spirit was ready to give it all.

He acted before the tariaksuq could, blowing a great cloud of fog to cover one as he stunned the other with a desperate overhead swing. He could not finish it off, as the first tariaksuq changed forward, forcing Barley to block its antlers with his quarterstaff. His weakening arms folded, the longest prongs of the antlers piercing his torso. He let out a pained grunt with a half-finished spell of fog as his assailant drove him back on sliding feet.

"Nori!" Archie yelled.

"Just a little longer!" Nori screamed.

A blueberry caught the knee of the tariaksuq, folding it down to one side. Barley's most primal fibers wrung themselves of any remaining adrenaline, his heart pumping blood out of a dozen holes in his body as his muscles gave everything they had. He fought with reckless abandon, weaving blinding puffs of fog between each blow, Archie's blueberries zipping through the air, the tariaksuq screeching and stomping, their collective symphony reaching its most fervent climax.

Puff. Smack! Puff. Smack! Puff. Smack!

He put one tariaksuq on the ground. Another in the river. A claw tore through Barley's tough jacket and soft belly, ripping a streak of flesh from hip to navel. He took out the entire antler of one creature, one of its eyes breaking off with it. The surface of the bridge glowed silver with bone dust and splinters, a luminescent battlefield where Barley put down enemy after enemy. But still more came. He had almost no time to inhale. His fog grew weaker. His blows hit softer.

Puff….Smack….Puff…Smack…

And then he had nothing left. He guessed Archie had nothing left either, the blueberries coming less frequently and with far less impact. Hawthorn lay in a folded heap on the shore next to his fallen foe. Half a dozen tariaksuq picked themselves up, creeping closer and closer down the bridge toward Barley. They were all battered and bruised, taking a rest in their song before committing to their final note.

He inhaled and raised his quarterstaff, unsure if he could handle even one of his aggressors. But he was ready to die trying.

"Barley!" Nori yelled. "Fog the bridge, then jump off!"

The tariaksuq responded to the instruction with their own shrill bugling, lowering their antlers and charging forward as a single unit. Barley stared death down as it came for him. He inhaled deeply, his lungs filling with essence and his mind filling with prayers as he begged Ambrosia for one final burst of strength. The storming drumroll of hooves neared.

He unleashed a torrent of fog that spread like an explosion, encompassing the entire bridge. As the front tariaksuq closed in on Barley, he blocked, letting the momentum fling him from the bridge.

The fall was short, but the impact lit his body up with pain, the cold water infiltrating and stinging his open wounds. He exhaled in shock, but managed to stop his instinct to breathe in.

Beneath the water, things were calm. Quiet. The village's torchlight danced and scattered on the surface of the water, sprinklings of silver antlers floating along, the moonlight penetrating only a few feet. The current took Barley beneath the paddling feet of one of the swimming tariaksuq. He stayed under, just on the edge of the darkness. His lungs burned, desperate for air. He stayed down. His strength started to leave him.

He swam past the tariaksuq and kicked up to the surface. As he breached, there was an explosion of countless pop!pop!pops! as Nori's piles of lemons exploded, dousing the tariaksuq in acid. The smell was immediate, burnt hair and flesh, and their screams were more piercing than any knife, a suitable final note to the gore and carnage.

He heard another tariaksuq swimming nearby. He took a deep breath and dove down, down, down into the darkness where the beasts would not find him. There, the song of battle could not be heard, only the gentle applause of the current as it carried him away.

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