War of Kings and Monsters

by Christopher Keene

  “That is why the Arions had to die! Imagine it, a race of Melkai with the appearance of men paired with an incredible power they could use at will.” His hood came in to face him before he drifted back toward the edge of the room, back toward the portrait of Armalon the First. “That’s why both the Kairens and the Arions had to be eliminated. That power, in the end, would only lead to war. They were inherently evil.”

  “You kill thousands, wiping out entire races of people, and you think the Arions as a people were evil?”

  “How could they not be? After all, they created me.”

  “They also created me!”

  “And how are you any different? You’ve killed hundreds yourself, and in this battle you have instigated, hundreds more will die. Do you really think you will be satisfied when I’m gone? You’re just as cursed by your power as I am by mine.”

  “I’m nothing like you!”

  “You’re the offspring of a Kairen and an Arion. You’re exactly like me. The only way we differ is that I was fated to rule and you were fated to die. I succeeded, where you continuously fail to accept your fate. However, succeed or fail, others dying as a consequence will always be the result.”

  Aisic gritted his teeth. “You did that!”

  Ramannon stopped in his path and turned away. “And now you and I are the only Melkai left unsealed . . .”

  Now that everything was clear for him, Aisic had no reason to hesitate. “Not for long!”

  His hand shot out, but before he could cause a shockwave, he was ripped off his feet and sent flying back against the throne room doors by an even more powerful force. He collided against them with a crack and fell to the floor on his hands and knees, panting in shock.

  “You cannot kill me, boy. How can you possibly kill something that cannot die?” Ramannon asked, sounding amused by his efforts.

  Aisic coughed dryly. “Let’s find out.”

  He put a hand on the rug beneath him and struggled up onto his feet, his posture slouching. Still, he managed to show the slightest hint of a smile. “I don’t have to kill you to defeat you.”

  He flicked his arms across his body. From the tips of his fingers, a line of light appeared from out of thin air, creating what the Kairens called a seam. Just as Cullen Armalon had instructed him to do, he thrust his fist through the line of light. The glow stretched out from his hand and he pulled out the Kairen Sword—a weapon created by and passed down the Armalon family line—its crystal blade glistening above him.

  Ramannon’s voice rumbled, “That sword!” sounding suddenly fearful.

  Aisic raised the crystal weapon high. “This is a Sword of Sealing. It has the power to lock away anything that does not have a physical presence here in the world. Being without a body, you do not age, but your immortality comes at a great price, and with this weapon, I’ll show you why!”

  Aisic ran in and swung the blade down on Ramannon. The animated robe swerved to one side and then the other, evading the strikes, but with that, Aisic spun, raising his hand up to release yet another shockwave. His power, however, was then met with Ramannon’s own as the two forces pushed against one another.

  “What use is a sword if I cannot be cut by it?” Ramannon taunted, but Aisic continued to push forward, baring his teeth in the struggle.

  As his shockwave ceased, he was once again flung back onto the carpet by Ramannon’s power. As fast as his legs would permit him, he rolled up onto his feet. He rubbed the pain from his neck which had snapped back from the sudden impact. Not only that, but his head was beginning to swim from using his own ability.

  The differences between their powers all of a sudden became apparent to him. Where Aisic’s body had to recover after each impact, Ramannon didn’t have a body, and so could use his power again immediately after.

  Looking for another point of attack, Aisic peered into Ramannon’s glowing eyes. But no; he had no eyes just as he had no body. Then what Ramannon had told him suddenly made sense. The orbs that moved about within the robe were the concentration of energy he referred to as his so-called spirit.

  “I keep telling you, it’s futile,” Ramannon called out. “However, if that won’t stop you, I’ll just finish you myself!”

  Before Aisic could even register his words, he was up and running at him once again. He felt his skin prickle, sensing an upcoming pulse rushing toward him. He readied his own shockwave and launched the energy of it through the sword. Ramannon somehow annulled the shockwave. Aisic raised the sword, and with all his might, thrust it toward the cloaked figure’s core.

  The third pulse from Ramannon blocked the blade.

  Aisic ground his teeth and pushed with all his will against it so it would not knock him back, but as he had expected, Ramannon’s power became a torrent. Aisic’s feet slipped on the floor, his arm muscles screaming, his fingers tight on the hilt, trying with all his might to thrust with the Kairen Sword. The flaming torches around the hall went out from the rush of wind, leaving the room in darkness.

  Gritting his teeth until his jaw hurt, Aisic’s rage flared like electricity around him. He pushed the Kairen Sword toward the red cores within the cloaked form, but it was a futile effort. Even as the point of the sword drew nearer to them, the two red orbs parted to the cloak’s shoulders. “You put up a valiant effort, even more so than your people’s last champion, but I’m afraid you are too much of a risk to keep alive.”

  As though Ramannon’s words had triggered a memory within the weapon, the Kairen Sword appeared to glow and sudden darkness came over Aisic’s mind.

  His eyes opened to see that he was standing atop a stage of stone. People surrounded him, people he thought he knew although he had never met. Their teary-eyed faces expressed an importance for this moment he couldn’t grasp.

  His body then moved of its own volition. Clutching the shimmering hilt of the Kairen Sword, he crouched low and jumped, launching himself high into the air as impacts of force lifted him into the night.

  Is this . . . a memory from the last person who wielded this weapon?

  He scanned the star-speckled sky, and Ramannon’s robed form hovered down in front of him. Raising his blade, Aisic could feel the magic of the Kairens flow through him.

  This was the battle that determined the fate of his people.

  Aisic watched through the eyes of the Arion warrior as he slashed at Ramannon, following him from one corner of the sky to another. Ramannon evaded each attack, then pointed one sleeve of his robe toward him, and the warrior fell back from an invisible blow. Aisic plummeted, the entire world spinning before he hit the base of a waterfall with a deafening splash.

  This fight had sentenced every Arion to death. And his defeat would sentence every Kairen and Senadonian to die along with them.

  No, I won’t let it!

  Aisic awakened with a renewed fury as his skin prickled in warning, sensing Ramannon’s final attack. “No!”

  There was a crash behind him as the large doors to the throne room were flung open. Dual swords spun through the air, hitting very near to where the two concentrations of light had been. The hood was flung from the empty apparition, pinning it to the back wall. Then Aisic watched as the orbs formed before him, the two lights coming to a single sphere to avoid the blades.

  “Aisic, finish it!” Tarren called.

  Aisic shut his eyes and screamed, using the last of his will to release a final impact and the last of his strength to push the blade into the sphere. With that final effort, it pierced through the rush of energy and a beam of light flooded the room.

  However, he had pushed his power too far. Piece by piece, his body began to vaporize into the air as the force of his energy pushed against what was left of Ramannon’s, the orb of light exploding, their willpower alone seeming to draw everything into the core of the room where the Kairen Sword hovered upright, acting as a gateway.

  A shockwave of force ripped through the great halls, pushing Tarren off his f
eet. A groaning sound filled the tower, sounding like it was about to cave in on them. The last thing Aisic saw before he vanished entirely was the Kairen Sword breaking, the blade snapping cleanly in two.

  * * *

  Having been caught up in Aisic’s tale, Nathan breathed out heavily as his friend paused. The two Senadonians looked at each other, brows raised.

  Aisic gazed down at the campfire, concluding his story with, “When I finally returned, I found a world where Ramannon no longer ruled and I could no longer use my powers. It probably has something to do with sharing my body with a Melkai.”

  Tarros nodded. “Tarren’s account stated that soon after you entered the castle, the throne room collapsed and you were never seen again. He never shared with anyone what happened to you.” He inclined his head in Aisic’s direction. “Everyone assumed you were dead.”

  “It was the Kairen Sword, wasn’t it?” Nathan asked.

  Aisic nodded. “Ramannon could change into his spirit form at will and possess objects. The only way I could defeat him was to lock him in the Melkairen, and that’s exactly what the Kairen Sword did. Given that they were both created by the Kairens, I assume it had similar magical properties to the keys you and your sister possess and that they were forged after the sword was broken. In order to overpower him, I had to sacrifice my own body. The Kairen Sword broke in two and—”

  “And your spirit got sucked in with his.” Durian crossed his arms.

  “That’s right.”

  Nathan’s brow furrowed and he looked up at the reddening moon. “But if you managed to get through the weakened barrier . . .”

  Tarros and Durian’s eyes widened, and Tarros whispered, “Oh . . . no.”

  Aisic nodded again. “That’s right. There’s a good chance that if I escaped the Melkairen, Ramannon did as well.”

  Chapter 23: The Battlements

  High up on the castle’s outer wall, Laine looked down solemnly. A mass of opposing soldiers began to form on the outskirts of the Kydian Wood. She knew they weren’t Avatasc soldiers, but their numbers were impressive nonetheless, a far greater force than Garland and Kydia could have mustered alone.

  A battalion of Senadonian refugees might have joined forces with them, but even had that been the case, it wouldn’t matter. Terratheist had the greatest army in the land, bar none. How King Michael could muster men out of what seemed thin air was a miracle to her and one that guaranteed victory.

  Even if a few rebels did break through their defenses, Laine had ordered her callers to attack anyone who breached the walls. After raising them all to the contrived rank of Battle Summoner under her and allowing them free rein to use their abilities, she had won their loyalty over their previous master. Now, even an enemy caller would have difficulty gaining ground inside the city.

  Still, she knew what would come of this.

  Laine bit her lower lip, apprehensive about being a part of rekindling the border war between Avatasc and Terratheist. Those who she was fighting against were from her home kingdom where her mother still lived. Although she was doing this for her sake as well, she couldn’t help but wonder what her mother would say if she could look upon her now.

  Laine had taken a high position in a foreign country that she could use to reform her home, just like her mother had told her needed to be done. However, now that more Melkai were slipping into their world, and with Nathan nowhere to be found, any control over the situation felt like it was slipping through her fingers. Even if she did go after him, she had no idea if she would find him before it was too late . . . if it wasn’t already too late.

  If I get what I want in the end, does it really matter how I achieve it?

  Hundreds of men charged the thousands of armored soldiers outside the great walls and were rebuffed, many wounded or killed from the exchange.

  So long as they don’t enter the city, Kendra and the rest of the civilians will be safe.

  Further fighting would only end in slaughter, and she pitied them, as she knew this wouldn’t be the end of it. She grabbed the collar of her robe and was tempted to summon Terachiro. However, in the split second before she went to throw it, she pulled her hand away. Something deep down told her she was going to need her Melkai close by if anything went wrong.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to her cloak. “You’re going to have to be patient.”

  She could almost hear the screams of the men in the battle below her. Their army charged hopelessly, desperately into the wall of armor and steel, fighting tooth and nail to reclaim ground.

  This is necessary. King Kissick must be defeated, and for that, King Michael must triumph.

  The rebels had no chance, and after this, the last battle for Avatasc would be at hand. There was a cry of horror below her, and her eyes drifted to the sky. For just a moment, she could have sworn she had seen a dragon flying toward the city.

  It can’t be the same one I fought, can it?

  The familiar form drew nearer. Shots were loosed from the castle walls. The dragon banked sharply and began to circumvent the castle, either to avoid the battle entirely or make a rear assault. The castle and city chapel were nearer to the back of the city highland, so if an attack was its intention, its flight path revealed the high intelligence of the creature.

  Even on horseback, Laine wouldn’t have been able to make it to the other side of the city to warn Reshal, who was guarding the inner walls.

  On the tower platform below, her second-in-command stood ready.

  “Blake!” she shouted. “Send out your wyvern as a signal to warn the others. That dragon is headed their way. Send it to Tuttle first, Reshal will need backup.”

  “Yes, master.” Blake pulled out an emerald he’d no doubt received from his wealthy parents and threw it into the air.

  The emerald glowed bright green and transformed into the two-legged wyvern. Although the wyvern was impressive, Laine wasn’t confident it could hold its ground against a dragon.

  “To Tuttle, go!” Blake cried.

  The wyvern took off to circle the castle walls in search of Tuttle and his giant falcon. Laine grinned, glad she had back up against the creature this time.

  There was a sudden clanking of armor behind her, and she peered over her shoulder. One of the king’s guards waited.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “The king requests your presence.”

  Her lips curled inward. “Dragon’s breath, now?” It would take her near an hour to reach him, placate his majesty’s nerves, and return to the wall. “What does he want?”

  “He did not say. He only asks you to come immediately.”

  “Where is he?”

  “The chapel.”

  Jaw clenched in agitation, she shouted, “Tell him I will be there shortly.”

  The soldier bowed and walked off.

  Laine gripped her hood, fully aware her team would not be as effective without her and Terachiro. Nevertheless, she had to go to the king.

  “Blake,” Laine called. “I’m putting you in charge of the walls while I’m away.”

  Blake’s eyes grew wide with clear panic. “A-are you sure that’s wise, Master? D-do you think the others will follow my orders?”

  “They’ll have to.” Laine exhaled. “If the others fall, pull back, and guard the castle. Understand?”

  Blake nodded and bolted off. Laine had a feeling he wouldn’t make it to the other side of the castle in time either. She could only hope that Reshal and Tuttle could handle the dragon on their own until he reached them.

  Gritting her teeth at the king’s audacity to pull her out of the battle at its most crucial moment, she descended the fortified stairwell and made her way to the castle.

  What could King Michael possibly want now?

  Chapter 24: Invasion

  The high towers of the Terratheist fortress came into view. The sun was setting and the clouds above them were dark and swelling, but not as dark as th
e land below them, which was churning with warring soldiers.

  All along the Menophilly Hills, they pushed back and stabbed at the rebelling forces on their battlefront, a failing last-ditch effort from villages that lived in proximity to the city. The place had definitely changed from how Nathan remembered it.

  “This battle . . .” Aisic spoke in Nathan’s mind as he looked down over the Valley of the Two Kings. “It’s just like it was back then.”

  He flapped his wings and banked sideways as a volley of arrows flew their way from the archers on the castle crenellations. They passed over the giant city walls, dodging arrows and watching as the soldiers marched through the streets. There were hundreds of them.

  With a sudden explosion, Tarros’s phoenix torched the gate, and Durian rode through on the great wolf’s back. He knocked the soldiers down in their path as they swiftly approached the city square.

  “Fly over the city!” Nathan called.

  Aisic soared down toward a long barricade that walled off the outer courtyard to the castle. Several cloaked figures came into view, standing on the rise of the barricade. A giant bird Melkai flew toward them as several quadruped first-circles appeared around the barricade. Aisic flapped his wings to avoid what looked like a giant falcon before breathing out his fire upon it. It burned up in his flame and fell to the city below. Banking, Aisic looped around, but was caught by a few arrows as they pinged off his armored skin.

  Nathan ducked behind his back as one whisked past him. “Land now! This is where we make our stand!”

  An insect-like Melkai flew at them, but Aisic swooped down under it, its wings fluttering like a fly’s as a large stinger from its tail stabbed barely inches away from Nathan’s head. Aisic swooped low and unleashed a gout of flame, finishing it quicker than the first. On the battlements, archers burst out from the bushes and pulled back their bowstrings.