by Ivan Kal
“He has killed fragment-bearers before,” Lei reminded him.
“Our agents report that he has clashed with one of the Lashian fragment-bearers. Both parties lived. Based on what the Lashian bearer reported, we can conclude that Kai Zhao Vin has not yet regained his former power, not fully.”
“He is still dangerous,” Lei said.
“And Kyarra, the Eternal Soul, is there as well,” Ashara added.
Narzarah nodded. “I am not aware of her strength. The report from Ming-Li had been lacking because of her lack of understanding of magic, but I am not overly worried about that.”
“How many bearers are we bringing?” Lei asked.
“Fifteen, not counting me,” Narzarah said with an annoyed look as he turned to look at Lei. “My division has yet to recover from our losses against your people. I lost more than three quarters of my fragment-bearers. Host Command is going through the candidates, but choosing someone new to bear a fragment is not an easy thing.”
Lei nodded, but didn’t apologize. They had been at war before, and he felt no guilt for killing so many. The Host had many fragments of power, and with each world they conquered, they more often than not added more to their arsenal. The history of the Host and the fragments was fascinating as well, and Lei had spent quite a bit time studying it. According to the Arashan scholars, the fragments of power had come into existence during the event called the Sundering, when the Lifebringer, the Mother of all mortals and gods died, and her death caused the fall of Eos, a hub world that had been a bastion of civilization in ancient times before it was cracked apart alongside the Lifebringer. The death of the Lifebringer sent countless fragments of her body flying across the worlds, falling like stars and causing great calamities. But these fragments were still immensely powerful, each holding an endless sea of the pure energy of the Lifebringer.
That was what the Arashan believe the fragments to be: pieces of the Lifebringer herself.
He wondered if there was any truth to that.
“How long until the gate opens?” Ashara asked.
“Could be any moment now,” Narzarah answered.
“So we wait,” Lei said.
Narzarah straightened, grasping his sword. “It won’t be long now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
MING-LI
Present
Ming-Li stood in front the World Gate as a cascade of energy danced across the stone. Glyphs, so painstakingly carved, were glowing and pulsing with power. Next to her stood Darza and the rest of the Arashan agents on this world, all waiting with barely contained anticipation for the gate to open.
Ming-Li cursed inwardly, knowing that when Narzarah came through he would not be happy. The Lashian Grand Marshal Darvo Tou Benerof would not be here to meet with them. Their Emperor had ordered the Grand Marshal and the Arc Commander away only yesterday—a political issue, he said, as well as to prepare the Legions for the invasion of Tourran. Darza had learned enough to piece things together. Vin’s battle with Arc Commander Danir had gotten out, and the Council of Mages and their Guild were requesting their investigators to come to the Empire and find out what happened. They worried that someone had managed to find one of the two lost fragments of power, and they needed to make sure that there was no danger to the world. Darza had explained that they in fact just wanted to acquire a fragment of power. Ming-Li didn’t understand why, but she trusted Darza’s conclusion—he was the one who had studied this world’s history and political situation the most.
To Ming-Li, a single fragment of power might as well be an ordinary rock. It took someone extremely talented in order to get as much as possible from such a weapon, and still she would rate a master spirit artist above them. But in the end, the situation had changed.
This Council was pressuring the Emperor, and he didn’t want to allow them entrance to his land. Since the gate would be opened soon, he wanted everything in place to attack as soon as possible. The Emperor and the Grand Marshal both had a bone to pick with Tourran. Ming-Li could understand that—they had won Tourran, only to then have it snatched back from their possession. She wouldn’t take that lightly, either.
The energy around the gate flashed, and then it grew in intensity. Suddenly, it grew so bright that she could barely keep her eyes open. And then the light was gone. There was a moment of silence, and then blue energy flashed inside the gate and a shimmering field that resembled a surface of water appeared. The light became fainter, and then she could see through. Nearly immediately, three shapes stepped through. The first was Narzarah, looking as intimidating as she remembered, with his black armor etched with glowing symbols that smoked, his sword tied to his side, and one of his hands resting on its pommel. Next to him was Lei, and Ming-Li couldn’t help but grin at seeing him. The last person she didn’t recognize, although there was something familiar about her. She was obviously a spirit artist, and Ming-Li wondered if some other survivor had joined after she fell into the portal behind Vin. She was giving off a strange feeling that made Ming-Li frown, and her expression only deepened when she noticed that the woman was wearing Kai Zhao Vin’s blessed armaments.
As they approached, Darza stepped forward and bowed. “Grand Commander, welcome to Enosia.”
“You have done well, Darza,” Narzarah said. He locked eyes with Ming-Li, and she hesitated for just a moment before bowing to him.
Narzarah glanced around the plateau, seeing the workers in the distance watching as an army passed through the gate. Several Lashian Officers were standing close by, looking nervous, but she didn’t really know them. Darza was the one who dealt with the Lashians.
“Commander, I should introduce you to the Lashian Officers. There is much to discuss,” Darza said.
Narzarah nodded and turned to look at Lei. “Make sure that the troops transfer in order.”
Lei gave him a deep bow, which actually surprised Ming-Li. Both of them had joined the Arashan for power, but she hadn’t really spent much time among them. Lei seemed to respect the man. As soon as Narzarah left, Lei stepped closer.
“Ming-Li.” He inclined his head. “It’s been a while.”
He seemed different. She could tell that he was on the sixth step of the path just like her, but there was something else, too. There was a weight about him; she had no doubt that he had honed his ki into a powerful weapon. Ming-Li returned his nod, but then turned to look at the woman. As close as she was, Ming-Li could feel her ki; it was familiar to her, powerful. She looked at her face, the golden hair and blue eyes. She didn’t know them, but something in her face was familiar to her. Then she noticed something, a little thing—a birth mark on the right temple and she frowned.
“Who is this?” she asked, perhaps more harshly than she intended to, but something was nagging at the back of her head.
“Ming-Li, this is Ashara Ravena. She is…like us,” Lei said slowly, almost as if he couldn’t decide how to begin explaining. And then it clicked. Ming-Li remembered the feel of the ki, the small touches in the face.
They were those of Kai Zhao Vin.
“What is this?” she demanded.
Lei sighed and looked at the woman, who just shrugged. It made Ming-Li’s blood boil and she nearly reached out for her ki, but then Lei spoke.
“The Arashan god did to her the same thing the Arashan did to Vin. They pulled his soul out of his body, and he put hers into his body, shaping it to fit her.”
Ming-Li glared at the woman. Some lowly soul that had been granted the body of Kai Zhao Vin and with it all of his former power—why? She didn’t know who this person was, but she was certain that she did not deserve the gift that she had been given.
Then something registered with her, the name of the woman. “Ashara… You were the one that escaped Tourran with Vin,” Ming-Li said.
“Yes,” the woman—Ashara—said simply.
Ming-Li’s mind immediately went into overdrive, thinking about how she had ended up involved with the Arashan god, how she even managed to g
et off this world. From Darza, she knew that the Arashan god was powerful and could move himself and a few of his people from world to world, but that for armies a gate was required. She also knew that there were some kind of rules that the gods governed themselves with.
Ming-Li didn’t know how to feel, really. She hadn’t ever really thought that she would be granted that body, but now that she had seen someone who had been granted that honor, she felt like she deserved it more—especially since Ashara had been a nobody, an ordinary human from this wretched world, someone who hadn’t even been a spirit artist. How could someone so unworthy be given such a gift? It was a waste, a crime against the spirit arts.
“Ming-Li.” Lei stepped in between her and Ashara and she realized that she had been glaring at the woman. She turned her eyes to him and he continued. “Come, we should oversee the troops’ crossing. Afterward we will have the time to speak and catch up.”
Ming-Li wanted to disregard him, to demand the woman explain how she had obtained that body and why, but the look in Lei’s eyes sent chills down her spine. He had been a good spirit artist before, a capable warrior—but now he felt like a mountain, unyielding. They looked at each other for a long moment, but then she finally stepped back.
“Fine, but I want answers,” she told them both.
She would learn the truth…one way or another.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
KYARRA
Present
Kyarra looked over at the night sky reflected in the bay from one of the palace’s balconies, the two moons shining brightly down onto her world. It had been three months since Vin had returned, and in that time they had met only a few times. He had decided to spend all of his time training, growing stronger. He had went up into the mountains to train, to the place where he had first encountered the beast whose core he had used to get stronger.
She envied him that he could do that—just go out and train with no care about anything else. She had always loved magic, but ever since she became the Queen she had very little time to study and train herself. Vin had all the time in the world, it seemed. He hadn’t come to any of her weekly meetings, even though he was technically still one of her advisers; perhaps he’d forgotten, but in any case she didn’t remind him. Her nobles didn’t like him, and he didn’t like them. Vin viewed them as unworthy of having power, and they looked at him as a commoner who had no place near them. She didn’t even know if Vin could be considered as such, as his people didn’t have such divides. Kyarra agreed somewhat with his sentiments, but it was hard to change their points of view after a lifetime of being told that they were right.
She had been actually surprised that he hadn’t been pressuring her to take action. After their first talk he seemed to have relented, or lost any desire to fight her on it. Kyarra knew that he felt like she was failing her world, even though he hadn’t actually said that to her since he came back. It was difficult talking with him at times; both of them had such different cultures, their worlds were so distinct. But she understood him in that aspect. The Arashan had defeated his world and people—people who he had seen as the strongest warriors, and everywhere he looked on this world, he saw little but weakness. She could understand why he thought that they were weak, but her world had other types of strength.
There was really nothing that she could do. She was one person, a ruler of a small country that held little influence. She didn’t know what Vardun had thought when he bound them here, but certainly he didn’t expect them to rally an entire world against the Arashan from here. It was impossible. People didn’t believe in things that they couldn’t see and touch, that they couldn’t understand.
She couldn’t protect the world, but this city in front of her was hers to protect. Its people had given her their trust and their devotion. They had made her a Queen, and she couldn’t betray that, no matter what her personal desires were.
Kyarra sighed and put her hands on the railing of the balcony. She hadn’t really understood how much work the previous king had to do. Now that she was in his place, she felt as if she was perpetually tired.
A sudden pull on one of her ring anima-wells was the only warning she had before her ward activated. A shield sprung around her just as something impacted it. She turned sharply, shocked and confused, because she saw no one on the balcony other than her six guards, who sprang into action as they heard the clang of something hitting her shield. Then blood sprouted from the neck of one of her guards. The others stared, their weapons drawn and looking at nothing.
Something pierced through the chest of another one of her guard, becoming coated in his blood. Kyarra could see that it was some sort of an invisible blade. She raised her hand just as strikes started raining down on her shield from invisible assailants.
Her surviving guards yelled out something, probably calling for aid, but she wasn’t paying attention. She focused on one of her rings and activated the ward laid down in it, and a wave of force spread out of her hand and hit everyone on the balcony. Her guards barely noticed it—they didn’t have any magic—but the wave revealed their attackers.
Nine shapes dressed in black, each with two daggers in their hands and many powerful magical items on their bodies, shimmered into existence all around them. Her guards, now seeing the enemy, attacked, but the assassins were too fast and too well trained. Her remaining guards died before she had a chance to do anything. Seeing the gravity of the situation, she called inside of herself, reaching to her fragment of power.
But the assassins didn’t give her the chance. One of them knelt and put his hand on the ground and the rock shattered. The balcony cracked, and a moment later Kyarra found herself falling down alongside a piece of the balcony she had been standing on. She quickly turned midair, formed the spell-construct in her mind and unleashed a spell of air, pushing herself to the side and slowing her descent. She fell down into the gardens, hitting the ground hard and twisting her wrist. She struggled to quickly get up to her feet as she saw dark shapes jumping down from the balcony and into the dark garden with her.
She was breathing quickly, her magic singing in her ears. On her person, keystones and ward stones were ringing, telling her of the wards that had been triggered, but she didn’t have the time to focus on any one of them. An assassin ran at her, his enchanted knives lighting up. He slashed as she stepped back, cutting through her shield as his other knife flew toward her throat—but her secondary wards triggered, blasting outward and sending the assassin flying through the air and staggering the other eight dark shapes that had been charging at her.
She was wearing dozens of rings, three necklaces, her crown, earrings, her bracers and arm rings, all of them enchanted with defensive and offensive wards she had designed to help her in a fight. In truth, she had made them in mind with one opponent: Ming-Li, a spirit artist. Taking advantage of the moment, she reached inside herself and pulled out her fragment of power. It coalesced into her hand as the assassins recovered and charged again.
Kyarra had a multitude of spells at her disposal that could kill them easily, but her Staff of Storms was meant for great works of magic. She thought quickly, deciding on what spells were most suited for the situation. She couldn’t use fire, or she would risk setting the gardens on fire, and they surrounded a good portion of the palace. It would risk the fire spreading and taking the building itself. In the distance she heard shouting and the ringing of alarm bells, but she couldn’t focus on that.
She pulled on her fragment, feeling pure anima rush from it to her, but she didn’t activate any of the wards on her staff. Instead, she shaped the spell inside her mind.
A blade of air cut out of her, cutting everything in its path. The assassins rushed to evade—some dropping to the ground and letting it pass beneath them, others jumping high in the air. One of the assassins didn’t move in time, and the blade cut through him as if he were paper, splitting him in half with only a brief flash of light surrounding him as one of his enchanted items activated and activated
a shield in a futile attempt to protect him. The power of her spell was far too great for his magical item to prevent. Its power was spent in a moment, and then the assassin was dead.
The blade continued on, cutting the hedges surrounding them as well as one tree before it slammed into the palace wall and left a cut two steps deep. The tree that it cut fell forward over the assassins, and they scrambled to evade. Kyarra took advantage of the opportunity by forming another spell: a circle of light formed on the ground, illuminating the darkness of the garden, and chains of light flew out, grabbing hold of one of the assassins and pulling him to the ground, binding him there. She shaped another spell and a spike of earth punched through the bound assassin’s chest, ending his life.
She noticed that three of the assassins had their hands pointed at her and could hear them muttering something under their face masks. Before she could interfere, they were finished, and three circles of light appeared around Kyarra, with chains of light similar to her own flying out to grab hold of her. They encountered and broke through her shield, but then smashed against her secondary one. She felt the anima-well on her ring that powered that shield lose anima quickly as it was being depleted, and quickly, before they had a chance to do something else, she pointed her staff at them and unleashed a beam of pure anima out of it. It punched through the chest of one of the assassins while the two others jumped out of the way.
While she had been focused on those three, another assassin closed the distance and stabbed with a knife, breaking through her shield. As the knife neared her throat her last line of defense ward triggered and her necklace anima-well emptied completely as a wave of fire exploded out of her, consuming the assassin and setting everything within ten paces of her on fire.