A Legacy of Nightmares

by J. M. Wallace

  Sorin shouted to a towering man in shining armor. Six dead Nefari lay at his feet, and he bowed in Sorin’s direction. The defeat of so many Nefari was an impressive feat for a man who looked old enough to be her father.

  The older knight called out to Sorin and Bron, “Hell of a fight, boys!”

  Sorin shouted back, above the noise of battle, “We can’t take all the credit!” He nodded to Shaye and the girls on the rock. The old knight regarded Shaye suspiciously.

  The battle was raging on around them, and Shaye did not care to stand there being scrutinized by this stranger. Sorin and Bron must have held the same sentiment, because they turned from the old man, resuming their roles in the battle. They remained close to the rocks, where Shaye and the other women stood, taking on attackers from every angle. Finn reared at anyone who came close enough for him to strike, and Brina was using all of her strength to swing her axe. Their little band was a fearsome sight to behold.

  Mavka called out as a Nefari soldier charged toward them. Black magic was forming between his hands as he began to speak. Ingemar held fast to her power, bracing herself for the attack that was headed for her shield. It slammed into them, knocking Shaye back into Mavka. They steadied one another and shouted. Shaye was stunned by the hit, a force that would have been fatal, had Ingemar not been there to shield them from the brunt of it.

  Sorin charged at the man, sprinting, as Ingemar lifted her magic enough to let him pass safely. He ran his blade through the Nefari, roaring as he ended the man’s life. A small group of Nefari noticed the commotion and ran toward them to join in on the fight. Bron took his place at Sorin’s side as they went sword to sword with the enemy. One of the Nefari began speaking under his breath, and Shaye knew another magical blast was headed toward Sorin and Bron.

  She jumped from the rocks, calling on her divine magic again. She lashed out with it, steering clear of Sorin and Bron, just in time, as the Nefari man unleashed his spell. Her magic hit its mark, landing a killing blow to the man. Sorin looked for the source of the counterattack, and smiled when his eyes met Shaye’s. She continued to defend them from where she stood. Sorin and Bron were unstoppable, cutting down anyone in their path. Blood covered them as they tore through the dark Magi advancing on them.

  A murder of crows screeched from above, eagerly awaiting Shaye’s command. Recalling the many times she had been visited by the creatures, she extended her magic to them, connecting her to the group of sleek, black crows. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Descend.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Shaye

  The crows did as she bid, diving down toward the Nefari. It was a brutal sight as they tore away at the dark Magis’ hands and faces. The crows were wild with bloodlust. Distracted by the attack, the Nefari did not see Bron or Sorin coming. The Mortal Knights finished what the crows had started, wiping the remaining Nefari out.

  The battle raged on, as more Nefari came at them, and Shaye felt exhaustion creeping in as she protected Sorin and Bron from being outnumbered. Shaye was so distracted with keeping them safe that she did not notice an ambush from behind her.

  Bastian struck the women with explosive power. Shaye landed a few feet from Sorin, and he rushed to help her stand. He was searching her for any sign of injury, when she shoved him away.

  He reached for her, but she pulled out of his grasp. Over the sound of battle, he shouted, “Where are you going?”

  “To finish this.” Before she left, she shoved the Sword of Roth in his direction. “Take it!”

  “No, you need it.”

  “I have my magic. Just take the damned thing.”

  He grabbed it from her hands, and she immediately felt the absence of its power. Her instincts screamed at her to take the power back, but she ignored the feeling. She turned back to the rocks where Bastian stood. His face was a picture of vengeance itself. Like his ancestor before him, he was full of rage—blinded by it. So much so, that he did not expect what came next.

  As he lunged for Shaye, she met his force with her own. Their magic collided in a flurry of darkness and light. She held fast to her power, willing it into him. Bastian was relentless—he shouted a dark spell at her: “Br-her!”

  It was enough to break through her magic, and she was thrown to the ground. She coughed, trying to catch the breath that had been knocked out of her at the impact. Her body screamed in pain as she tried to rise, and her vision began to darken at the edges.

  Sorin was shouting at her, but he was too far away to reach her before Bastian did. Bastian grabbed her by the throat, digging his fingers into her until she couldn’t breathe. Her vision faded in and out as she struggled under his hold. She kicked him in the gut, and he released her long enough for Sorin to get her attention.

  He let out a whistle, and when she turned to him, he threw the Sword. It hit the ground within arm’s length of her, and she scrambled for it. Bastian grabbed her ankle, dragging her back to him and away from the Sword, but something hit him. Shaye reached the Sword and clung to it for dear life, its sharp steel edges cutting into her hands. With blood dripping down her black fingertips, she readjusted her grip, grabbing onto the hilt, and standing for another round with Bastian.

  He was recovering from the blow he had taken from Ingemar, who was standing behind him, surrounded by golden dust. In the blink of an eye, he was upon Shaye again with a murderous rage. This was it. One of them would not walk away from this, and she was determined that it be him.

  As he reached for her with his jet-black arms, Shaye plunged the Sword into him with every ounce of strength she could muster. She grunted as she pushed it deeper, relishing the look of shock on Bastian’s face. He let out a sickly choking sound as she pulled the Sword back slowly. She wanted him to feel every bit of agony as the Sword sliced through his insides. He gripped her dress as he fell to the ground, tearing it to reveal her leg, lined with black from his connection to her.

  She stood tall and unmoving as he slumped to the ground, blood pooling from the wound in his stomach. Shaye knelt beside him. She could feel his power over her slipping away.

  He choked as he tried to speak, “You traitorous bitch.”

  “You are the traitor; and for that, you will die powerless in this valley. You have failed, Bastian, and I will not make the same mistakes as you. I will find forgiveness in my heart. Forgiveness for you and for the dark Magi who stand amongst us... And perhaps one day, I may even be able to forgive myself.”

  Bastian’s eyes fluttered as he struggled to hold onto his lifeforce. Through gritted teeth he said, “You should have chosen me.”

  Shaye felt a pang in her heart at the words. He sounded like the boy she had once known and loved. She watched as the black pools faded from his eyes, revealing warm brown irises. She grieved for the man that he could have been. “You should have chosen forgiveness, Bass.”

  She grabbed his hand—it was cold as he gripped hers back. They had once loved one another. But she would never forget what he had done to her mother, or to Asterion. Now all those warm memories from their childhood would forever be tainted by the horror he had inflicted. Perhaps in another lifetime things could have been different for them...

  Shaye struggled to find the words. Her voice was a hoarse as she said, “If it’s any consolation... I forgive you, Bass.”

  His grip on her hand tightened in response, but he said nothing. Instead, he closed his eyes, and took his last breath. Bastian was gone. She looked up to see Sorin, holding out a hand to help her up from the ground where Bastian’s blood seeped into the land. Before she took it, she reached down to untie the Obsidian hanging around his neck.

  Sorin was breathing heavily when she stood to look at him. “Shaye, your face.”

  She raised a hand to touch her cheek, unsure of what he was seeing. “What is it?”

  “The black, it—it’s gone.” He took her cheek in his hand. “The darkness is fading.”

  She looked down at her arms, then to her leg, showing thro
ugh the tear in her dress, all of which were once covered with the sickening marks of Bastian’s control. They were clear—her smooth, pink skin shone brightly under the risen sun. But to her dismay, her hands were still black. Her face fell in disappointment, but Sorin raised her chin to him gently.

  “It will all be okay.” He took her hands in his and squeezed them tightly.

  Shaye dropped his hands, and reached to cover her ears, as a screech sounded from behind them. Umbra stood, seething in anger at the sight of her master lying defeated and dead. She lunged for them, but Erebus blocked her path. She shot out one of her shadows, knocking the canine back into the dirt. The Nefari soldiers near them stood still in shock and confusion, looking at their leader lying dead in the grass.

  Still, the battle raged on, Asterions and Dwellers were keeping the pressure on the Nefari army from all sides in the valley. The Nefari defended themselves the best they could, but it was no use. The Asterions were too great in numbers and power now. Shaye noticed a few Nefari dropping their weapons and clasping their black hands behind their back, in a show of surrender, at the sight of Shaye standing over Bastian’s body. More Nefari followed suit.

  Sorin raised his voice high above the battle, addressing the Nefari force like the king he was. “Surrender now, and live. Or die fighting.”

  At his words, the Nefari looked around nervously. They noted the state of their army, and that their numbers had significantly diminished in the battle. No longer powered by the Stave, their weapons were no match against the disciplined Asterion army—and their magic was matched with that of the ancient Magi creatures fighting for Sorin. They conceded. Shaye could barely contain her pride. Had they really just won? She could not help but hope that the worst was over. She grabbed Sorin’s arm and squeezed it affectionately. When she looked at him, he was beaming with triumph.

  Umbra screamed at the Nefari in a voice that sounded like the gates of hell opening, “Don’t just stand there, you imbeciles! Kill them all!” They hesitated, and Umbra allowed her power to explode into them.

  Shaye stood tall, and shouted at Umbra, “It is over!”

  Mavka let out a piercing scream, as Umbra used her shadows to grab her. Umbra sneered at Shaye as her shadows snaked out around Mavka’s small face, caressing it.

  Shaye chose her words carefully, “Umbra, you do not need to do this. You are free now, don’t you understand? Bastian can no longer control us.”

  Umbra scoffed at her, “Control me? You think I am so weak as to be controlled by a mere man?”

  Shaye was confused. She had witnessed with her own eyes the obedience Umbra had shown Bastian. She had tortured mortals at his command, had used her powers to create the man-eating fog that had terrorized them and the citizens of Asterion... Shaye furrowed her brow, “I don’t understand. Why are you here, if not by his hand?”

  Umbra released a wicked sound from her throat, it was like a fire crackling. She narrowed her eyes at Shaye through her thin veil. “I am here to do what I have always done. To devour this pathetic world of yours. It has been a long time since I have tasted destruction, and I am not leaving until I have had my fill.”

  Both the Nefari and Asterion armies stood still as they watched the scene unfold before them. Shaye took a step toward her, but Umbra tightened her hold on Mavka, making her cry out in pain. Shaye stopped in her tracks. She could not risk Mavka by getting any closer. All she could do was keep this monster talking. She needed to stall long enough for one of the others to come up with a plan.

  Shaye gestured to the battlefield. “Then look around. You got precisely what you wanted, men lay dead and dying all around us. Please, let Mavka go. She is of no significance to you. Release her and we will step aside to let you return to wherever it is you came from.”

  “Silly girl. You remind me of the man whose blood runs in your veins. Leto also thought he could talk his way out of defeat. His world made for a magnificent meal when I feasted upon it.”

  Shaye bristled at the confession. The war that had driven the brothers from their land in The Beyond had been Umbra’s doing. They had fought, and had failed to save their people. Shaye’s hands shook. How could they defeat this ancient beast, when so many others had failed before them?

  Umbra must have enjoyed the doubt on Shaye’s face, because she continued, “Now, Baal and Bastian, on the other hand, were quite eager to aid me in my quest. Just like their predecessor, Pris. Foolish men, to think that they were in control, when it was I who was guiding them to this moment.”

  Shaye had heard enough. She burrowed her magic into the ground, sending it to where Umbra stood. If she could call on the roots below, then she could take hold of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bron lunge toward them—but he was too late. Umbra sensed the attack and snaked her tendrils around Mavka’s head. Glee filled Umbra’s eyes as she snapped Mavka’s neck.

  Bron let out a roar of despair as he charged at Umbra, but she was gone. Black smoke and a broken Mavka was all that was left behind in her wake. He fell to the ground with a sob. Shaye reached him before Sorin. Ingemar held Shaye back, allowing Bron to pick Mavka’s small frame up, rocking her body as he cried out. Shaye felt sick to her stomach. Everything had been going right and, in her confidence, she had been careless to have not seen this coming. She would make Umbra suffer for this.

  Sorin caught her as she turned to hunt down the shadow monster, “Shaye, where are you going?”

  “I should have ended Umbra’s reign of terror the moment I met her.”

  “No. We stay together. We will kill that Witch, but we will do it together.” He looked sadly at his grieving friend on the ground. “Right now, Bron needs us.”

  Shaye conceded. Sorin was right. If they were going to get through this, they needed to stand united. Umbra was an ancient creature from The Beyond. It would take every ounce of power and strength Shaye could muster to defeat her.

  Shaye looked around now at the bloody battlefield. The fighting had ceased, and Asterion soldiers were now gathering the remaining Nefari force. Some of the mortal men shouted out in victory, while others looked around the valley in grief. The older knight that Sorin had shouted to earlier did not waste his time on celebrating; instead, he got to work barking out orders for the Nefari army to be rounded up and taken for questioning. They could afford to leave no stone unturned. If there were more Nefari in hiding, they would need to sniff them out.

  Shaye could tell Sorin was struggling between his need to take his place as king, and what he really wanted, which was to go to his friend. The latter won out in the end, and he followed Shaye to Bron and Mavka’s side.

  Shaye spoke softly to Bron, “We need to take Mavka’s body back to the forest. We’ll use Finn to get her there.”

  Finn pawed his hooves into the ground, and Shaye put a hand on his velvet nose. “Let’s get her home.” The horse calmed, allowing Bron to lift Mavka’s body onto his broad back.

  “W—where are you going?” Ingemar’s tear-filled eyes reminded Shaye of how much they had lost, even though they had won the battle.

  Forest Dwellers gathered at their sides, weeping for the loss of one of their own. Shaye had no words to comfort them. She was barely holding it together herself. They walked up the hill toward the forest in a silent procession. As they left the valley, Shaye watched the tired Asterion soldiers wipe the blood and sweat from their faces before gathering prisoners.

  She asked Sorin, “What will happen to them?”

  “They will be taken back to the Summer Palace to stand trial for their crimes.”

  “Will their lives be spared?” She knew Sorin to be a good man, but she did not know his council or his generals. She feared the worst.

  Sorin looked into her eyes, worry furrowed his brow. “We will keep our word. The guilty will be exiled. The next moves we make will set the tone for the future of Asterion. I have no intention of starting my reign with unjust retaliation.”

  The clouds parted in the sky. Shay
e knew she should be smiling brighter than the sun reappearing above them at their triumph here, but she failed to muster even a hint of one. She could barely feel the sense of victory as she walked beside Finn and Sorin.

  The old knight fell into step beside them and cleared his throat. “King Sorin. We need to return to camp. There is still much to be done.” He eyed Shaye warily as she walked by Sorin’s side. She felt uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. He reminded her of the no-nonsense Mages who had taught her as a child at the Winter Palace. She fought the urge to shift uncomfortably.

  Sorin nodded to him, “Of course, General Tyrell. We will meet you at the camp once we have tended to our friend.”

  General Tyrell shifted his eyes between them impatiently, but did not argue with his king. Even Sorin seemed like a young boy ready for a scolding in the presence of the General, but he kept his voice steady, “We will join you shortly.” The general caught Sorin’s dismissing tone. He bowed and took his leave, shouting more commands at the men left standing on the battlefield.

  Sorin took Shaye’s hand in his, leading her through the empty Nefari camp. As they passed the mess of tents, despair still clouded the thrill of their victory. Not only was she grieving the friend they had just lost, but she had not caught sight of their other friends since she had spotted Runa. She whispered a silent prayer that they had all made it through the battle in one piece.

  A pale green man fell into step at Sorin’s side. His face was covered in red and blue, and Shaye could not tell which was paint and which was blood. He bowed deeply to Sorin, and Sorin returned the honor.

  He acknowledged the Dweller, “Chief Einar.”

  The chief spoke, his voice a low rumble, “My daughter fought bravely. I only wish I could have told her how proud I was.”