I remember Ono 18, the day they came to Anselheim. The war had been perhaps a month old. We had won a few victories over the Tolsiki Empire in the beginning, with a few of our vanguard occupying two or three of their hills. The military response had been swift, however, and we were suffering reverse after reverse. Air raid sirens would howl, and we would cower in the basement as dragons blew their flames and airplanes dropped their bombs. Explosions rang all over the place.
Ono 18, 1418, dawned quietly. None of the usual sirens had gone off, and people were going about their business. My sisters and I went aboard a canal-boat and got out our fishing rods and nets; it was common sport to fish in the canals. This sometimes provided our lunch and dinner. The weather was balmy, as it was a lovely late-spring day. The cherry blossoms were in bloom, and they were falling in pink showers all over the place. We were occupied, Sarinya, Mara, Avai, and Akina – that’s me – gaily chattering among ourselves about romances and fish. It was Avai that first heard the thwack-thwack of dragon wings, flying low through the canal areas. Somehow the dragons had evaded Anselheim’s and the Tarson realm’s watches. One hideous scaly green beast swooped low over our boat, rocking it, and then bellowed a column of crimson and orange flame. It incinerated a tree and a couple of rowhouses a block away from us.
Soon they were everywhere. Pillars of smoke came from all quarters. The drone of the airplanes occurred after maybe an hour, and soon the bangs of explosions joined the chorus. A bomb hit our boat and we all screamed and swam for our lives in the choppy water. We got out of the canal by a ladder, all of us only slightly hurt but chillingly drenched and shivering. We huddled together for warmth as the “blitz” went on. It was afternoon by the time we reached our house and consoled our worried parents.
I heard the clang of a gong, the whistle of a flute, and the banging of drums. This was one of the the Tolsiki’s (in)famous Musical Corps, whose job was to keep the march of the troops in rhythm. This was followed by the infantry, all suited up, a few in ceremonial garb, most in camouflage. The cavalry followed, on unicorns and horses, as well as in gun-cars and armored convoys. They came bearing pikes and guns and lances, axes and spears, bows and arrows, howitzers and cannons. A couple of stout troops wheeled small atomic bombs, which I guess emitted invisible radiation. We couldn’t tell. None of us had radiation detectors.
Mara spoke up. “I thought they weren’t supposed to have nukes!” Atomic and nuclear weapons had been banned for fifty years at that point, but seeing clearly marked atomic bombs out in the open signaled that the Tolsiki were okay with playing dirty. This was frightening. A small one could take out a few blocks. A larger one could destroy a city or a wyvern of dragons. Fearsome stuff, indeed.