by Jeff Gunzel
Jade retreated a step, followed by another. Her powers were vast, but they would take nearly a lifetime to master. Morita had many years of experience, and as the battle raged on it was beginning to show. Still controlling her flashing strands of energy, Morita looked up and called to the sky. A white bolt crackled over Jade’s body. It broke apart on contact, forking around her as if hitting an invisible dome.
Bolt after bolt crackled down from the sky, splitting around her on impact while leaving the white afterglow of a domed shield visible only on impact. Jade dropped to one knee, her dy-chita flaring with all the defensive power she could muster. The barrage of flashing bolts hid her from sight, lost in a sea of blinding white energy. Morita’s energy strands continued to snap into the blinding white storm, pressing the shield with everything she had.
“Fool,” Morita boomed, moving closer. “You are no match for me! A prodigy perhaps, but it takes a lot more than that to master my level of sorcery. You will die here in these foreign lands and no one will ever know you existed.”
Hands above her head directing all her energy into the shield, Jade glared through the sheet of white crackling all around her. Teeth mashed, her heart racing, sheer determination kept her alive. Energy almost completely taxed, she rose up off one knee growling like some sort of animal. Feeling the sudden push, Morita stepped back in disbelief. With her energies dwindling as well, she never thought anyone could withstand such a sustained assault for so long.
Rising to her feet, Chi draining away, Jade released everything she had left. The protective dome shattered outward, blowing a free path between her and Morita. Strands of snapping energy misdirected for just instant, bits of the shield tumbled through the air like broken glass.
“I wasn’t always a sorcerer,” she growled under her breath.
She surged through the temporary hole, feet mashing into the ground as she propelled forward. Everything moved in slow motion, time trickling along. Her hands snapped up towards the sky, cold steel flashing in her palms with a click. Colored strands lashed at her body, searing her flesh as she charged. Everything happened too fast for her body to register the pain.
Morita’s eyes widened with horror. Cold steel flashed across her face, throat and chest, blood spraying in a fine mist. Losing all concentration, her energy strands dissipated and she toppled back. Ten wounds, twenty... Jade’s warrior instincts erupted in a surge of flashing steel. Her blades slashed and ripped, tearing into flesh at an impossible pace. Morita’s early wounds were already beginning to close, yet dozens of new ones appeared every second. The ferocious assault kept her pinned down.
With a roar Jade threw her hands up, blood-soaked daggers leaking down her wrists. Morita leaned up, her face and neck masked in red, her probing tongue whipping around like a snake. Jade plunged her daggers down, the entire width of each blade disappearing into her eye sockets.
Jade’s dy-chita flared once more, her eyes blazing with light as she glared down at the thrashing woman. “May your lost soul wander the underworld forever. Burn beside your brother!” She opened her mouth, releasing a stream of icy mist. Morita opened her mouth to scream, but it froze in place as her body frosted over. Her lower jaw shattered like glass, crumbling into a hundred pieces. Her whole body began to crystallize, creaking and cracking in protest.
Jade got off her and gazed down at the frozen body. She raised her hand once more, steel flashing up with a click, then drove the dagger into her frozen chest. The body shattered into thousands of pieces, shards scattering and bouncing across the ground. Each piece steamed for a moment, then melted away into nothing.
“Give my regards to your brother. I assume there is enough room in hell for both of you.”
She dropped to her knees, body screaming with fatigue and pain. Much of her upper body was seared and lacerated, wounds she was only now beginning to feel. But the pain would have to wait—there was no time for such distractions.
All around her, the fighting seemed to be winding down. A quick scan of the battlefield showed nearly every face, friend and foe, gazing up to the sky. Why had they all stopped? The lightning around her seemed different, darker somehow. She looked up, bloody blades falling from her grasp as her blood went cold. By the gods...
* * *
When the archers stopped firing Eric’s concentration broke. Why had they stopped? How many enemies had he killed this day by redirecting so many weapons at once? His body glistened with sweat, and his mind burned with fatigue. How many hours had passed?
With his full attention back in the present moment, his eyes searched upward to the churning vortex in the sky. It was humming again, but this time it quivered like a shaking sun, a shadow creeping outward, radiating from its center. No, the sky was turning blood red.
The redness spread, covering every inch of sky from east to west. Enemy and foe alike backed away from the center of the battlefield, trying to put distance between themselves and the vortex. Now a solid dark red, the vortex rippled from its center like a pebble thrown into a pond. Open mouths gazed up in stunned silence.
A red bolt streaked down from the vortex, striking the ground in complete silence. Another struck, then another and another, each blasting the ground without a sound, as if the energy blast consisted of nothing but sunlight. Soon it became a storm of light, silent yet brilliant and blinding. Men covered their eyes, unable to handle the dazzling flashes. Suddenly, it stopped and all went dark. The sky itself seemed to have lost its life, leaving the world in pitch-blackness.
Slowly, the redness returned to the sky. It was not bright by any means but offered just enough light to notice a black rock in the middle of the battlefield. Lumpy and still steaming, the giant stone was the size of a small hill. It quivered a bit before liquefying, losing all its shape into what looked like a mass of tiny black marbles shifting against one another. But on a second glance, those weren’t marbles at all. The mass had broken down into a sea of black spiders skittering against each other.
The hill of jittering movement rose up, meshing together into a giant black form that began to take on a humanoid shape. The mass stood up, fifty feet tall with legs that were thicker than trees. Clad in a hooded cloak assembled from swarming spiders, piercing red eyes gazed out from a featureless face concealed in shadow. The prophecy had come true. Krytoes had entered the world of men!
The demon scanned the battlefield, his knowing gaze taking everything in. Too frightened to either run or attack, the best men could do was hold their ground, trembling fingers barely able to hold their weapons. He let out a rumbling laugh that shook the ground.
“Is this the army sent to stop me?” he boomed, a voice so dark and alien it froze the blood of all. “Very well then,” he rumbled. “It makes little difference to me which humans are the first to die, for die you shall. These grounds shall become holy as I spill the blood of those who challenged me. Consider it an honor, mortals. My reign is eternal.”
His chest expanded, red eyes seeming to disappear into shadow. A funnel of fire swirled from the shadowed face, sweeping the battlefield while charring friend and foe alike. Choking black ash fluttered upward, filling the air with the unmistakable scent of burned flesh.
Empress Ilenaya threw her hands up. “I offered you everything! I live only to serve—” Liquid fire engulfed her body, searing her flesh into nothing. Her screams were short-lived as her body, as well as those around her, vaporized instantly. The darkness didn’t make deals with anyone from the mortal world, a lesson learned too late.
When the sweeping fire cleared, all that was left were charred husks, blackened statues of ash still in their final poses, hands up, mouths open in silent screams. A few remained in their death poses while others crumbled to the ground, turning into piles of fine black powder. Soldiers of all armies began to run, white-hot terror gripping them by the soul. This being was nothing short of a god. Who amongst would dare pose a challenge?
Eric stared down at the demon, watched as the charred bodies c
rumbled into ash before his eyes. He watched soldiers haphazardly fire arrows while in full retreat, nearly all sailing wide of their mark. A few arrows clanked off the armor made of clattering spiders. Many a nightmare had haunted Eric of this very moment, nights when he awoke in terror. Yet now that he saw this evil with his own eyes, terror was not what he felt.
Hatred. Loathing. This vile beast had come to kill everyone he loved, to exterminate his entire race. Having already embraced the probability of death, there was nothing left to fear. He often thought that death was probably the worst outcome, something he had made peace with long ago. But staring down at that dark figure, he no longer felt that way. Death would provide him with the peace he hadn’t earned. His death would be preceded by the deaths of everyone he had ever cared about. No, death was not the worst outcome.
Failure is the worst possible outcome...
The air ripped open before him, a shimmering doorway glittering so peacefully. Yammon reached for his shoulder but pulled back when Eric’s head turned. It wasn’t just his shining eyes or the charred markings crackling with energy. It was the pure hatred in Eric’s eyes radiating outward like storm. Never had he felt such loathing from another human being.
Yammon shook his head, stepping away from the lad. “Go then, Gate Keeper,” he said. “I don’t know what any man can do to stop such a force, but I know you are our last hope. Fly, little bird, and may the gods grant you strength.” Without a word, Eric turned back and stepped through the doorway.
The air split open on the battlefield as he stepped out. Soldiers began to shout and point, acknowledging the Gate Keeper as he took to the field for the first time. He began to march, flames erupting from his blade as he drew. Like a forest fire out of control, shouts of his appearance spread quickly.
Krytoes glared with angry red eyes, yet a stream of needle-sharp teeth seemed to smile through his shadowed features. He raised his arms as silver and black spiders trickled down his cloak. Upon touching the ground, they began skittering towards Eric.
Each the size of a large dog, they leapt at him, pinchers clicking as they soared through the air. The dance began... Flaming steel flashed again and again, each spider bursting into flame the moment they made contact. Eric marched forward, eyes on Krytoes as his sword seemed to move on its own. Never dodging, never sidestepping, he only killed as he walked.
More spiders trickled down the black cloak, legs clicking as they hit the ground. Eric could feel their energy, a vile mix of darkness and animated life. They felt more dead than alive. With only a thought, the battlefield lit up with shimmering holes, each one swallowing a single spider. Eric balled his hand into a fist as the portals snapped shut, crushing hundreds of spiders at once. Emotionless, he continued his march, eyes never leaving the shadowy demon’s face.
Growling, Eric suddenly broke into a run, charging towards the demon. “So you do exist,” Krytoes boomed. “The immortal born to kill me. Tell me, Gate Keeper, do you believe in prophecies? Are you truly immortal?” His chest expanded once more, before releasing a stream of rolling liquid fire.
Eric splashed through a portal just as the flames engulfed the area. It reopened to the side of Krytoes, a flaming sword flashing out as it hovered in the air. The demon roared as his flesh seared. What was this? No mortal weapon should have been able to hurt him. The doorway snapped shut, then reopened on the other side. Again Eric slashed at his side, causing the demon to stumble back a step. A spray of spiders hit the ground, each one skittering around in confusion.
Another doorway flashed over his head, but anticipating the maneuver, this time the demon moved like lightning. A clawed hand swept upward, the portal exploding in a shower of yellow sparkles. Eric went tumbling across the sand, his blade flying from his grip.
“Fool!” Krytoes thundered, his rumbling voice echoing through the desert. That cursed blade had actually hurt him, and his rage was evident. “You are nothing! What chance did you think you had against one such as me? I have existed since the beginning of time. Your entire lifespan is but a blink to my eyes. You are flesh and blood, nothing more!”
A yellow bolt streaked down from the sky, striking the demon in the shoulder. He roared, stumbling back another step. The sky was turning black, yellow bits of static jumping between the rolling dark clouds. Still stunned from the fall, Eric looked to the rear flank as crytons were reassembling themselves.
But they weren’t formed into small small circles as he had seen them do before. Instead, they stood in a single line, Shantis at the front. More and more crytons joined in, each holding hands while feeding their energy to the front. Shantis pointed again, and another bolt shimmered down from the sky and struck the demon. This one was stronger, and the booming impact echoed throughout the desert.
Eric crawled along the sand, searching desperately for his sword. He found it only a few feet away and pushed himself back to his feet, but dizziness struck him and he dropped back to his knees. He tried desperately to clear his head, but his body would not respond. Jade was among them now, holding hands with the last cryton, feeding her own energy down the line.
Others followed her lead, human soldiers removing their gloves and joining hands with the growing line. Even those with no magical abilities possessed a certain amount of chi, and it was all starting to add up. He watched as Nima joined the line, Azek, Addel. Berkeni cut in between two crytons, followed by Amoshi. Humans and crytons stood hand in hand, united to defend their world, contributing all they had to offer.
Thick, jagged bolts streaked down from the blackened sky, striking the demon again and again, bathing him in yellow light. The angry sky churned and boiled, mercilessly releasing its fury in a spectacular light show.
Mostly recovered now, Eric opened another portal and rushed in. It flashed open again right in front of the stunned dark figure. Paralyzed by the barrage of jolts, all Krytoes could do was look into the Gate Keeper’s eyes. Seconds felt like an eternity. Time meant nothing as the world came to a halt.
“You’re correct,” Eric whispered to the helpless demon. “I am just a mortal. They too are just mortals. But together we are much more than that. I send you back into the abyss. Should you return some day, know that we will be waiting.” He leapt from the doorway, jamming his flaming blade into the demon’s shadowed face. Using his own weight and momentum, he dropped down, tearing Krytoes’s belly wide open. Thick black blood oozed, hissing against the flaming, hot blade.
He hit the ground and rolled away as Krytoes toppled back with a roar. Bolts continued to assault the body, causing it to flop and jolt against the sand. Eric stood, his eyes still blazing yellow. “I send you back to the darkness,” he boomed, a deep rumbling voice that was not his own.
His mouth opened wide as glittery dust drifted out, spiraling out and covering the demon’s body in yellow sparkles. The sparkles swirled about, seeming to eat the flesh of the creature, pulling his body into the swirling storm. The yellow dust funneled upward and streamed into the vortex above. With a thunderous boom, the vortex snapped shut.
“It’s over,” Eric whispered to himself, dropping to his knees and watching as the sky began to clear. A roar of cheers rose up behind him. After a time he stood and turned to face the legion of men and women who refused to give up their world. Crytons and humans alike embraced, crying in each other’s arms. Through the jubilant chaos a familiar figure came running, the one person he longed to see more than any other.
Crashing into him, Jade threw her arms around him so tight he feared she might squeeze the life from his body. “You did it,” she whispered in his ear.
“Look around you,” he whispered back, lifting her off her feet. “The victory this day belongs to all still standing, and most of all, to the fallen who died fighting for what they believed in. They are the true heroes this day.”
Reluctantly, he put her back down with a curious look on his face. Something felt very different. He picked up the sword at his feet and held Spark up in the air. Nothing. N
ot only did it produce no fire, but he could no longer feel its raging anger. Somehow, its magic had been spent. Light and brittle, it broke in his hands like a tree branch. It crumbled like dry clay sifting down into the sand.
Glancing at the markings on his arms, he ran a hand across his forearm. Like crumbly dust, the patterns rubbed away. Jade began to cry, recognizing for sure that the nightmare really had ended. She fell back into his arms, the chants of Gate Keeper echoing though the desert sky.
Epilogue
Athel snarled, her head whipping from side to side as soldiers closed in around her. She could easily tear right through their ranks and escape, but a tiny voice in the back of her head begged her to refrain from hurting them.
“Careful, men,” the soldier said, motioning for the others to move in cautiously, keeping the circle tight. “That’s it. Nice and easy.” Athel hissed, dropping down to all fours while clawing at the air like a cornered cat. She spun around as a thrown net draped over her from behind. She went wild, howling and thrashing as she rolled about, trying to rip through the entanglement. Gripping the net, she pulled with a ripping sound, ropes beginning to pop like buttons on a shirt.
“She’s breaking free!” called another soldier, diving on the side of the net. Others followed his lead, trying to pin down the corners with their bodies. “If you’re going to do something, do it now!” Athel kept thrashing, the soldiers practically lifting off the ground with each surge. She froze, suddenly finding herself face to face with an old woman wearing an eye patch. She glared through the ropes as a dull familiarity tugged at the back of her mind. The moment of hesitation cost her.
“I’m sorry, dear,” said Addel, bringing her hand up near her mouth. “This is for your own good.” She blew across her palm, glittery dust scattering into Athel’s face. She lashed out wildly, hands clawing through the net to get to the old woman. The surge was short-lived, as she dropped to her knees, fluttering eyes struggling to stay open. A few seconds later she was face down in the sand.