Tides of Fate

by Sean J Leith

  Victory had been attained, but Saul’s mind didn’t linger on the King, Thalia, or the fools killed. It lingered on the words of Ithaca. If the blade that carves the skies is there, I will seek it atop the Stormspire. “Thalia, would you come with us?” Saul asked.

  “Oh, come now, Saul. I was coming along, regardless of your invitation,” she laughed. “I can’t leave you alone. You’d get into trouble without me around.” Thalia walked ahead with a swagger, and Saul followed.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Risen from Ashes

  Zaedor Nethilus

  Zaedor and Nargosh finally arrived in Solmarsh late into the night. They entered from the North gate, finding an inn nearby made of tattered black maple planks. The town shone with the mystifying white glow from the moon. They strolled into Sohgra’s Inn, looking for a room.

  “Well, that’s a face I haven’t seen in a long while,” a Hydris said in a slithery voice. He was cleaning the deserted bar near the end of the night. “What are you doing down here, my musical friend? I thought you went east.” He was like one of the men Zaedor met in the pit. His skin was azure, and fins ran over his head and through his thick grey hair. His voice slithered like a snake. Zaedor didn’t know what to make of him.

  “Oh, I’m just traveling, my good man. I can’t sit still! I do love exploring. I have a friend here who wanted to visit this small town of yours.”

  “Oh? Odd. Why’re you in this town? It’s a little odd for—” he paused briefly, “—someone to be here out of the blue. Although you aren’t the only new person here, I suppose.”

  Zaedor looked up with wide eyes. “There are others? Who?”

  “She left town some time ago but is back here checking some things out. A sweet girl, but you’d best keep yourself in check. I see that look in your eye.”

  “Do you mean Miss Kaar?” Nargosh asked.

  “Yes, that’s her. She’s changed a bit since she left after her brother’s arrest.”

  Nargosh closed his eyes and nodded. “Oh dear, that’s very sad. I’m sorry to hear it, old bean. Why did she leave?”

  “No clue, but she’s with a bunch of rough-and-toughs now. They’re investigating the—well, the disappearances.”

  Zaedor’s ears perked up. It could have something to do with the orb, or Cloaker, or anything. He needed to know more. “What disappearances?” Zaedor asked.

  Sohgra explained what he knew. He mentioned how many disappeared, and the markings in the center of town. Apparently Zaedor was late to the investigation, and another group were at it for quite a few days. He wondered how it could possibly connect to Amirion; Zaedor feared he traveled far for nothing.

  “Who is investigating, where are they? I must speak with them. I came a fair way,” Zaedor leaned forward on the bar and picked at his fingernails.

  Sohgra leaned back. “You can’t just ask for details like that. How do I know you aren’t from the state?”

  “Mr. Zaedor isn’t that kind of man, old bean,” Nargosh interjected. With a strong pat to Zaedor’s shoulder, he said, “He wants to help. He seems to believe they have a connection to his home,” he said in his hoarse voice.

  Sohgra’s forehead tightened. “Oh? Where are you from?”

  Zaedor saw his city in his mind, burned. Broken. “Amirion,” he said bluntly. “It was destroyed by Zenato almost a season ago.”

  Sohgra nodded with a somber expression. “Yes, that news reached here not long before you did. A true tragedy. I prayed for them to the Four. I thought there was no one left.”

  “I am one of who even knows how many. I used to see my people every day, now I never see any,” Zaedor said, looking to the bar counter. He felt he was alone. His wife, Eryndis, had gone to Zenato to speak with the new King of the Eastern lands of Zenato, Rawling Tirilin, the late King’s brother. He missed her. Did she arrive in time? Eryndis, what happened in Zenato? “Please, I must know. Who are they?”

  Sohgra described the newcomers to town that went with the one called Lira. There was Kayden, a short, rugged woman, a Blazik woman named Domika, an old wizard in a violet robe, and a massive Half-Devil.

  Sohgra mentioned that the wizard was The Great Vesper, a previous conjurer of the traveling circus of Renalia, but the Half-Devil worried Zaedor more. Devils were abhorrent beings who enslaved and tortured those who came near the pits of hell, and Half-Devils were monstrous hybrids who stole from innocents, murdered carelessly, and ravaged women and men alike. How could these people be helping? The view of Half-Devils in the north was apparent, as well as in Amirion, but was the west different?

  Sohgra spoke without a wince by the mention of ‘Magnus.’ Zaedor wouldn’t accept help from one of his kind, even if he needed it.

  “An odd group. The Half-Devil, especially,” Zaedor said.

  “Lira seemed to trust him. Thus, so do I,” the Hydris spat.

  Nargosh nodded, quietly sipping a cup of water.

  Is that good enough? Just one girl’s trust? He couldn’t take Sohgra’s word for it. He sat quiet on his stool for a short while, paying no attention to Sohgra’s slithery growl.

  “Is there anything else you can tell me? Is there anything else out of the ordinary here? I do wish to help and, if they are the ones to go to, I would like to speak with them.”

  Sohgra surrendered his frown. He let out a long sigh, leaning forward. “All right. They’re in town trying to find out what’s been happening. But somethin’ last night was really out of the ordinary.”

  Zaedor leaned in closer, seeing Nargosh sporting a sly smile. “What happened?”

  “Well, this one eccentric in town has always been after Lira’s heart, and I mean always, ever since she moved into town,” he said, looking left and right. “She turned him down time after time—she’s too sweet of a girl to let him down hard. Last night, though, she finally agreed.”

  Zaedor crossed his arms. “So? What’s the wrong with that? He was persistent, and she gave him a chance.” Was this the Hydris’ big tip? Zaedor didn’t have time for wasteful comments. I hope he is taking this seriously.

  “No, you don’t understand,” Sohgra hissed. “The little lady doesn’t say yes to things like that. She was acting as if she always wanted to, was suddenly more excited, more interested in this ‘mine business’ he has going. If you ask me, she was interrogating him. Impressively, I might add. He didn’t suspect a damn thing,” Sohgra said, leaning back. “She was supposed to meet him at the mine tonight. It’s past that time, so I’m not sure what you can do now.”

  “What are you going to do, Mr. Zaedor?” Nargosh asked.

  “I’ll check where they are staying. I would rather not run into the Half-Devil or the robed man, but I’ll take my chances,” Zaedor said, rolling his eyes.

  “They’re staying at the small blackwood home with the light brush garden out front, just west of here, closer to the water. ‘Kaar’ is on the letterbox.” Sohgra leaned in close, his forked tongue flicking subtly. His small fins tightened to his head. He bared his teeth, same as a Human’s, but with two sets of sharp fangs. “If harm comes to her because of you, you’ll regret it.”

  “Su—sure.” Zaedor said with a cracking voice, backing off. This woman was important to him, that much was obvious. He did not know where she was, or what to expect. He sauntered toward the door of the inn.

  Nargosh gave him a parting comment. “Do be careful. There is an ominous wind tonight. Old men like me can smell it.”

  Zaedor nodded, turning to open the door. He walked a few houses down, finding the blackwood house with lovely little shrubberies around the door. The soil was dark and moist—someone kept them going while she was gone. The house was dark and silent. He knocked on the door quietly.

  He thought of his old home. Zaedor still couldn’t get the images out of his head: the burning banners, the screaming of men, women, and children as their souls were stolen from their bodies.

  No one answered the door. He felt sadness overtake him once more, as
it had throughout the past days on the road. When left with his own mind, he couldn’t keep the thoughts away. For once he truly appreciated Nargosh’s rambling stories. He knocked again. No answer. Please, answer the door, Zaedor thought. He pounded on the door with all his might. There was no one home.

  Moments later, he heard screams and wails from elsewhere in town. He saw people running past him, yelling for him to run away. He had to see what was happening. He feared it was a repeat of that fateful night in Amirion. Zaedor dashed to the origin of the sounds, seeing a bright, violet aura emanating from the south.

  He ran to the center of town, the source of the violet aura. What are these markings? They were lit in bright violet, the same as the orb. The light from them pulsed slowly, as if counting down to the inevitable end. Zaedor felt a light from above. He slowly raised his eyes to see the fateful sight: the darkness consuming the light of the world, the wind that snuffed out the lone Torch. The violet orb of mist was there, fifty feet above.

  He was back in Amirion, he felt; the spirits of hell came to take innocent souls away. The guttural, disembodied voice spoke once more. Zaedor again heard the mysterious, vile words that lived in his nightmares.

  “No, it cannot be, not again!” Zaedor yelled, drawing the gifted greatblade upon his back. White spirits flew from within the orb and swished around it. Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred—the faster they swirled, the more plentiful they became. Round and round, they soared above. Zaedor felt helpless; he didn’t know what to do. His blade shook in his hands as he backed away slowly.

  A deafening clap of thunder came from the skies; black clouds quickly surrounded the town, swirling over where Zaedor stood. Townspeople ran from the scene, though some curious enough to stay stood beside him. So many spirits flew around the orb that he couldn’t count them anymore. With blinding speed, the spirits looked like halos around the omen of death, forming a white, glowing sphere around it.

  The spirits froze in the sky like a million stars. They rushed one by one into the center of the markings, and each slammed into the ground and shook the foundation of the land. What is happening? Zaedor asked himself. What evil is at work here? The pain of a million men and women surrounded him, overtaken by pure evil. The ground shook so wildly that Zaedor stumbled and fell.

  As the final souls crashed to the ground, a dark violet portal opened within the circle of markings. It was colored with violet, magenta, and azure tints. Three serpentine beasts emerged from the ground, each with black wings and a long neck and tail, as if to be a Dragon. Each was as large as Zaedor, with veins of magma pouring down their arms, eyes alive as an inferno that burned the realm. They dashed at Zaedor and the townspeople. Zaedor sprang to action, cutting and slashing at them with his blade, but their skin was thick as hardened leather, and their claws like steel.

  Others in town came armed with axes and blades and cut away at the three beasts. Zaedor cut off the arm of one and it bit at his arm with sharp teeth, piercing through his scale mail. Zaedor kicked it off and backed up, raised his blade, and cut the beast’s head clean off. The creature staggered about as if it still lived. Its black skin began to rebuild and reform. Zaedor kicked it again and pushed it back over the portal, and it fell back through before it could regenerate. He looked around to see the other two beasts biting and slashing townspeople, but with a charge from Zaedor and a swing of his blade, he quickly overwhelmed the two beasts and shoved them back down as well.

  Zaedor panted and gripped his arm; he could feel that it was wet with blood. Some of the people around him staggered away and limped from their injuries, others stayed, and some ran as fast as they could. Zaedor couldn’t leave.

  He wouldn’t fail this time. Alone, but he stood his ground.

  His ears popped with a strange pressure in the air. A swelling sound rose around him, the dust rising and falling across the street.

  A massive, scaled arm the size of a tree reached out from the portal and smashed upon the ground and shook the land. Another reached out from the other side and cracked the earth beneath it. A monstrous being emerged, climbing out to view its new land. The vile creature was twenty feet tall on two legs, with black, scaly skin and a powerful tail flowing out the back. Its body oozed with magma as if it flowed through its veins, body made of corded muscle, with arms extending to hands with claws like scythes. Its head was protected by a large exoskeleton skull that shone like steel, with bright, fiery pits for eyes like the depths of hell, leading to a destructive maw. Smoke flowed out with each breath, forming a harrowing haze all around him.

  Zaedor never encountered such a monster before. Oh gods. I don’t know if I can challenge this, he thought. He needed allies.

  “Holy hell!” a raspy voice yelled.

  Five figures rushed onto the scene. A tiny woman with a great mane of hair, a massive pale-skinned man clad in rusty plate, a tall, dark-skinned woman, and he couldn’t see who else. He recalled their names and hoped they would aid his plight.

  The massive creature turned to them, commanding, “My thirst for life has been quenched. I have risen from the ashes of one million corpses. I command your worship of Him, the one who freed us from the abyss. To resist means your death. Your soul is mine—a feast for eternity.”

  “What are you to command us, beast?’” Zaedor yelled. As the monster’s fiery gaze turned toward him, Zaedor swallowed tightly. One million souls, devoured? My people. More than just them. Many more, Zaedor thought.

  “Valikar, foolish mortal. I am the Harbinger of his coming as he, Lornak, summoned us; I move to smash the stones that bind his soul. To bring Him forth to this plane to claim the realm. Kneel now or I shall devour your souls—leaving nothing but a hollow shell. Kneel, and you live.”

  Zaedor couldn’t move. His knees clattered at the sight of it, and he wasn’t alone. The Blazik woman, Domika, and the Wizard in the violet robe, Vesper, also backed away, shaking wildly. The others did not budge.

  Kayden turned to Zaedor. “What are you doing, idiot? Run!”

  I cannot run. I have to face it. My people would never forgive me. Zaedor wanted to run, he did, yet he was unable to move. He felt paralyzed by fear.

  “Bashira!” Lira yelled, holding her hands toward the beast.

  A spittle of light flowed toward the beast and around its arms, but it shook the spell off and laughed. “Pathetic magic of pathetic gods. Your pitiful power cannot shackle a being as powerful as I. You will die for your insolence! Behold the power of the Dark!”

  The beast inhaled deeply and blew a vast flurry of black flame across the ground and buildings, lighting the straw roofs on fire as the five barely dodged out of the way in time. He breathed the flame again, bathing townspeople running for their lives in a vile inferno. Screams echoed through the streets as flesh boiled and burned. Kayden ran around the outer ring as Magnus charged at the beast, shield raised. Lira raised her bow, shooting arrows wherever she could, but barely fazed it.

  The Harbinger swung its mighty claw and bashed Magnus to the ground, causing him to tumble. He came in with a final strike, but Zaedor charged into action and struck the monster’s side, causing him to miss and rear around. Backing away, Zaedor barely dodged the beast as it ran full-force into the building where Vesper and Domika stood.

  It crumbled under Valikar’s might with a smash. Domika and Vesper barely dodged out of the way, scrambled to their feet, and ran in opposite directions.

  Kayden jumped on its back before it turned, and climbed up. The beast flailed but couldn’t shake her off. She ripped two blades out from scabbards and jammed them into the back of the beast’s neck.

  Valikar roared in pain, caught Kayden in his monstrous grip, and threw her to the ground, motionless, along with her blades. Magnus snuck up from behind and sliced behind the monster’s knees, causing it to turn around in a violent rage.

  Zaedor watched, paralyzed, as if a spectator. I’m a coward. I couldn’t save my king, I couldn’t save Lothel, and now I can’t save them. The bea
st exchanged blows between the four still up. The Half-Devil protected his allies as they struck his limbs.

  Zaedor watched closely, the wounds in the monster’s neck and behind its knees—were healing. They need help, but what am I capable of?

  “It’s healing! The beast is healing!” Zaedor yelled.

  The Wizard, Vesper, carefully shot small balls of flame and shards of ice at the beast, doing nothing. Is he even trying? He seemed afraid, and nothing was pushing him to fight. Domika swirled and sliced, barely able to gain ground against the beast, whose long arms swiped and threw her against the stone wall of a building with a loud thud, bending her arm in an unnatural fashion, and leaving her unconscious.

  Vesper backed off indefinitely, leaving Lira, who shot arrows from afar, and Magnus, who was then fighting one-on-one with the massive beast. The fool’s armor was weak and rusty, yet the bladelike claws of Valikar slashed and swiped, unable to pierce it. Magnus’ movement slowed, bit by bit, tired and breathing heavily from dodging claws and flame. The beast, instead of swiping once more, grabbed Magnus with both hands and smashed his steeled skull into the comparatively puny man. Valikar threw him down and knocked him unconscious—or dead.

  The monstrous demon turned his gaze to Lira. He ran at her with a massive claw raised. Zaedor moved without thought, he saw no other option. I must do something!

  “Die, beast!” Zaedor yelled, running with his blade overhead. Zaedor leapt at Valikar, bringing his sword down with all his strength, nearly carving through Valikar’s entire arm. Zaedor swung again, causing the monster’s limb to fall to the ground, and it roared in agony. Zaedor deflected the other claw strikes, but was slammed against the wall with raw force, and with a sharp swipe, both he and Lira were smashed aside. Lira’s side was bloodied from the slash, as was Zaedor’s chest. It hurt to breathe. Ash and blood filled his nostrils. As his ears rang and vision realigned, he could see the beast turn toward the unconscious Kayden. Valikar deeply inhaled, readying another breath of mighty flame. Kayden awoke; her eyes opened wide as she saw her time come.