Shattered Shields - eARC by Jennifer Brozek, Bryan Thomas Schmidt

endless plains, once mighty forest like what we were being pushed deeper and deeper into, now denuded and bare, so that more tallest could build their villages, ‘towns,’ or even the largest and most offensive of their settlements, a city.
    We crouched near one of these smaller holdings now. Once, it had been a thriving settlement we’d been friends with long ago, living next to them in harmony and trading for what we needed.
    Now the village was mostly razed wreckage. Only a few scattered homes were left, all damaged from the skirmishes ranging along the edge of our forest. Thatched roofs were burned or holed, doors and walls smashed in. All that was left of the mill where we’d once bought flour was a single wall near the dry creek; the rest had been reduced to rubble.
    It wasn’t always this way. Years ago, we smallkin lived in peace with the tallest. We had been allies, fighting side by side in the Great Trollent Wars. The alliance had been powerful enough to shatter the Trollent King’s attempted conquest of the other races. It had even freed the goblins, who had supplied invaluable intelligence before the final battle on the Plains of Toolk, and they had been rewarded by being allowed to live in the forest among the rest of us. The several years of peace afterward were wonderful.
    But as the peace continued, the tallest began chafing under it. Restless and aggressive, they began pushing their borders out more and more, encroaching on our lands, countering any protest by saying they needed “just a bit more space.”
    We tried reasoning with them, but all attempts failed. The elves sought an accord first, seeking to ratify borders for both sides, and halt the increasing skirmishes between the two races, but the tallest accused them of plotting to take over their own lands. They warned the elves that if their demands were not granted, they would take what was rightfully theirs. War was declared soon after.
    At the time, we kept out of the conflict, not wanting to choose one side and risk the wrath of the other. The Tallest-Elven war shook the countryside, laying waste to kingdoms of both races before the fecund tallest practically wiped out the elvish race. A scattered few may have survived, but they were hiding far, far away from here.
    We thought there would surely be peace after that, but the tallest next turned their greedy gaze to the mountain kingdoms of the dwarves, saying those industrious people were hoarding their best gems and gold for themselves, and trading the poorest ones with the rest of us. When the drums of war sounded again, still we did not participate, feeling that as long as they left our homes alone, the tallest would be content when they had again taken what they felt they deserved. It was a terrible mistake for both races. The dwarves have barricaded themselves inside their mountain fortresses, thinking themselves safe, but we know the truth—it is only a matter of time until the tallest eradicate them as well.
    Only when the tallest launched their war on our homeland did we realize the extent of our folly. They would never be content until they had conquered everything, controlled everything they could see. And we had foolishly allowed them to expand their holdings until there was no choice left but to come at us.
    We fought, of course—we still fight today. I have battled the tallest through many campaigns, watching friends and family fall underneath their relentless advance. Burying my husband and children, carrying on the fight in their memory. Deep in my heart, I know we are losing, as we retreat a bit more every day. The tallest seem to have been placed on this world to do two things—make offspring and make war. From the smallkin to the dwarves to the elves, our long-lived races do not reproduce as quickly, a critical disadvantage against them. Add to this the terrible magics their casters wield, and sometimes I wonder if any of us will survive.
    “Top?” Rethgar whispered.