by K R Leikvoll
“All that time and you still weren’t prepared,” I cooed, peering down at the ever-crumbling Zaarian forces.
“At least you are right about that.” He slammed his staff on the ground, causing the vortex of stone surrounding the mountain to freeze in place. “There is no use in us debating nonsense any longer, Queen Lazarus. Let’s allow the sword to speak for us.”
I tensed up and glanced at all of the shrapnel in the air, surely set to impale me when I let my guard down. I raised my weapons and waited in the stillness for him to make the first move. I would not give the foolhardy wizard the chance to gain the upper hand, which he was sure to have if I moved first.
We paced around in a circle. I should have been smart enough to know there was a reason he wished to be near the statue. I was too concerned about the rock, thinking back to his capabilities with the ground element especially. It was a Basulian magical art – too far away to normally ever be a threat to me… but I had to destroy all walks of life in the end.
Gradelkine took the plunge and went for an attack. With one arm he kept his staff held in my direction, summoning a ward to deflect my blows. He planted the stub of his other arm on the Ort statue, sacrificing some of his blood for whatever magic he was intending to use. It must have been seen as a suitable gift, for the red of the effigy’s eyes began to glow.
I could not simply submit to defeat because he had a ward up; I moved immediately to slash and summon my own magic against his barrier. While wards were useful spells, they were not unbreakable. Not even the grand Divines could summon unstoppable barriers. With a combination of a loud scream from the Void and unholy flame, it buckled.
Gradelkine was ready, summoning a bolt of lightning to crash down on top of me before I could slice into him. Electricity burned unlike any other kind of injury. It stunned me and forced me to keep my feet grounded though I wished to fly out of the way. I was not fast enough to avoid his swinging staff that slammed across my face with unreal strength.
I let out another scream, both of pain and anger. I swung my blades as hard as I could. My attempt to catch his leg failed. Rock collided into me from behind while he kicked me in the gut. I was nearly stunned once more, but I used my wings to propel myself into the air. With a sharp dive, I smashed back into him, trying to use my teeth to rip at whatever I could. His staff was unnaturally durable. It kept me back while we struggled on the ground.
More rock flew through the sky and struck both of us. He was growing desperate as I became more of a rabid beast than a person. I slipped through the shadows, underneath his staff, and locked my jaw on a piece of his shoulder. When his blood touched my lips, I had forgotten how acidic it was. So much so that it instantly dissolved my tongue though I spat and sputtered trying my hardest to get it out.
He took advantage of my total disorientation and shoved me off of him. I was too overwhelmed by the holes being burned in my throat to stop him from channeling more magic into the statue. It began to move on its own, to my utter surprise. Once Gradelkine’s hand brushed the stone, he evaporated into thin air. I could see him solidify inside the effigy, almost like he was wearing it as a protective suit of armor. Steam billowed from its eyes and nose as it pulled a long, ancient spear formed of rock from its back.
As one can assume, I was hardly ready to fight it. The statue, or rather Gradelkine inhabiting the statue, threw itself in my direction, ready to finish the fight. Despite my pain, I forced myself to dodge under the blade and retaliate with my own attacks. The stone was more than mere rock as War hardly left a scratch on the effigy’s exterior. My slight shock caused me to be struck once more with a forceful punch.
It sent me sailing backward, tumbling as I tried to find something to catch myself on. The elderly man ran more spryly than any other person I had ever met. He bolted and charged from his location while I climbed back to my feet. He slammed his face toward mine in an attempt to impale me with the stone horns of the chorta headdress the effigy wore. I caught one of the horns with mine, pushing back at him just as brutally. Unfortunately, as he was much more experienced with having horns than I, it was simple for him to maneuver away and headbutt me with the force of a Titan.
My left horn shattered into a stump – shards of it fell into my eyes. Part of my skull cracked, causing my blood to blind me with the pieces of my horn. The next kick that was sent my way was unstoppable. I flew from the mountain like an insignificant speck. I was so unbalanced, I struggled to force my wings to obey. War was becoming impatient with my lack of kills, nearly pushing me to plummet into the broken labyrinth with the force of its unhappy gravity. I thought for a moment that I might actually fall to my death as my wings swiped furiously to keep me afloat, but it was in vain. Just as I thought I would perish, as I closed my eyes and released my worries, I impacted onto Levia’s back.
The fire-breathing monster from the heavens was different up close, but it was another experience altogether to be flying as one entity above the sea of conflict. Her red gaze glanced over her shoulder with clear expectations. She dove near the battling forces, spewing flame and slag all over our enemies. I had to hold on tightly to remain firmly planted on her when she rose back into the sky with ease.
The whole ordeal had temporarily distracted me from Gradelkine. The pieces of earth he summoned from the ground were compiling into a mass on top of where I left him on the peak. The statue was growing in size, rock aiding its progress. The walls of the maze began to curl upward, threatening to demolish the city itself. The mountain began to crumble and join the statue – which had transformed into a mighty avatar.
I was caught in awe, be it Ort or not. The avatar of stone was formed of the very mountain, standing just as big as Levia. I had no glimmer of an idea as to how I would proceed. Gradelkine was content to sacrifice the city in order to stop us. In his mind, if he could kill us, it would at least save those that managed to survive. Many held that pathetic hope.
Levia let out a roar so loud it caused a pause in the fighting. The avatar strode in our direction, crushing everything underfoot. The dragon looked at me briefly once more for commands, but I was too intimidated to know what to do. Beyond that, my tongue had not reformed, making it impossible anyway.
Both of the giants sought to fight each other – it was obvious by the serpent’s bloodthirsty roars of fury. Instead of trying to remain on her back while they engaged in close combat, I leapt off, hoping my wings would carry me, though I did not know if they would.
They were weak, but they gave me the ability to glide to the ground in the direction of Raven. He had summoned the full potential of Pestilence as I had done with War. His long wings of bone were deadlier than the scythe as he used them to rip apart his enemies. We were still winning despite Gradelkine’s fancy tricks. The dead demons were not comparable to the numerous piles of corpses.
“You look awful,” Raven said, using a gentle hand to pry a piece of horn embedded in my left eye. I was so infuriated at my lack of ability to bring Gradelkine down, I could hardly pay attention to him. “Where is the wizard?”
I pointed at the massive avatar of Ort. He seemed mildly puzzled until I opened my mouth to reveal my destroyed tongue and esophagus. He gasped somewhat enthused but also distressed at my condition. A Zaarian brute tried to catch us from behind, though my brother was quicker. His left wing impaled the warrior, throwing them in front of us. Pestilence came forward as he pulled the man from the ground.
I understood what he wanted me to do. I kneeled in front of the man while Raven cut his throat, allowing his blood to pour all over me. To be honest, I was starting to grow weary of the taste of Zaarian blood, but it was what I needed to heal. I drank until it stopped coming, resorting to leaping on the corpse and tearing into it for more. I did not stop before I was fully sated. I wouldn’t dare to. War was screaming and demanding more, louder than that of the battle around us.
Levia and Gradelkine, or rather Ort, were engaged in a brawl to the death. I immediately stood and
paced in the direction they were in the distance. I was distraught. I did not know how to stop such a large enemy. Levia was fighting with endless energy – ripping into it in a mass of talons and teeth. The avatar of stone was resilient, however, grabbing her by her horn on her nose and sending her soaring toward the ocean.
“What do we do? How do we stop it?” I wondered aloud to my brother. He was busy shaking the blood off of his wings and scanning the battlefield. The roaring from the dragon over the cliff-line was somewhat tortured. I did not believe Levia was going to be capable of taking it down on her own, but how could I possibly aid her?
“We are going to have to combine our abilities, or the wizard will win,” Raven replied decisively, waving Pestilence in the air. A mass of shadows began to swirl at our feet as he pulled my hands into his grasp.
I was unsure of the spell he was going to invoke, but I trusted him with my life and our success entirely. I focused on the Void for energy and assistance instead of my unhappy God and unsated weapons. Thankfully, Raven had relished in every kill, making sure Pestilence was ready for emergency use. It energized me in a way that was hard to explain. Though it was disconnected through souls, it was as if the Dark Essentia was operating at half.
With a powerful jump, we both ascended into the air. Raven kept directly beside me to keep me from straying. It is not as if being the prophet meant that I was immune to fear. Only a fool would rush into combat with a creation as big as an actual Titan.
It caught sight of us flying as a pair, crushing everything in its path to move in toward us. The magnetism through our weapons was truly a force to be reckoned with despite the avatar’s sheer size. Pestilence glowed a hue of dark green; the shadows surrounding us grew thicker as we were a direct conduit for the Void’s limitless energy. My weapon disappeared and reformed in my right hand – double bladed and just as heavy as the time I had used it before.
Like a synchronized dance, Raven and I separated and flew to either side of the avatar. We were connected mentally; it made speaking about our plans irrelevant, as it was more like we were sharing a mind than anything else. I was in control of War in its joined form that time – considerably more so. We both raised our weapons in the air and waited for an opportune moment to strike.
None of us were expecting Levia though, as we all should have been. She flew from below the cliff and breathed flame indiscriminately at Ort, not caring if she hit us. Either she did not care for any other being beyond Vincent or didn’t see us. I do not have an answer to that – it was probably a mixture of both. The magical fire was unlike its normal sister, naturally, and I was still somewhat singed as it passed over me. Raven, however, was nowhere as resistant. Thankfully, he was on the opposite side mostly out of the way.
Levia crashed into the avatar of Ort, clawing and biting at its neck. It caused the mountain-sized effigy to fall with the dragon, tumbling into the labyrinth. We had to dart to the side to avoid being smashed. I was not focused on my own safety, however. Once Levia let out a scream of genuine pain, as the Ort avatar crushed her wing, I realized my biggest concern was her.
Yes, I despise her, but the idea of having her injured – or dead – was worse than even losing the war. For despite my evolution into the prophet, I was still absolutely terrified of Vince finding out we had used her behind his back. Beyond his temper, he would probably kill Varnoc over such a transgression. Though, regrettably, I could not risk punishment from Vincent for taking the blame to save my demonic child. It was Varnoc’s idea, after all.
The giants brawled in a mass greater than the size of a city. Raven and I both knew that we needed to do something fast or it would be too late to save her. Gradelkine was encased in the center of the avatar, casting his spells to move the golem at will. As Ort rolled to its side, Raven and I made our move – I slashed through the back while he slashed through the front.
The Void and Lord Nakarius were aware of our plight. My sacrifices had brought me growth that nothing else ever could. Crimson light engulfed my form. I was ready to end the conflict – something I would have never expected when the war first began. I saw a brief glimpse into the Vast Dark; I remembered the endless chill of Treachery. I wanted to murder that deplorable wizard and return home more than anything else in the world.
I barreled through the avatar allowing the rock to rip my flesh gracefully, not caring for my own wellbeing. The crimson fire of Wrath and Violence was a force unequal to anything else. I seized Gradelkine and continued through the stone until Raven caught my outstretched hand on the other side. We spiraled into a crumbled wall of the maze, forcing him to the ground.
Raven hit him with a spell of paralysis much like the time in Uxe. It was enough to prevent his abilities, but not enough to entirely incapacitate him. He was groaning repeatedly about Remula, though not clearly. His hand scratched at the dirt and he collapsed back to stare at the sky.
The avatar of Ort fell to the earth afterward, in the direction of the city. It was rather glorious to watch it destroy its own people inadvertently. Rubble exploded into the air, followed by the sounds of horrified screams. It was still far from over, but it was a start with all of the city’s defenses disabled. Without the wizard, the Zaarians were finished.
“She… will stop you. Someone… will –” Gradelkine muttered, still addled from the fall and the spell. I was not sure at the time who he was referring to. I thought it could have been Alexandra, but there were a number of strong women that would try to see me to my death. Nevertheless, it was nothing more than a dead man’s rambling.
Raven had an eager expression – I could see the desire to kill Gradelkine mounting. I would not be able to keep him from executing him if he decided I was taking too long. I did, however, kneel beside him to indulge in his final moments.
“Nobody is stopping anything,” I replied softly, more like a loving mother than his worst enemy. I smoothed his long gray hair back and pressed my mouth to his ear. “This entire planet is dirt to be scrubbed away. And you… you were nothing but a forgettable face with an inconsequential task.”
I plunged my hand into his rib cage until my fingers wrapped around his heart. He was very magical in nature; holding it gave me a jolt of inexplicable energy. Like it was a sacred artifact, I removed it carefully from the wizard’s chest and put it to my lips. It still beat a few times in my hands. An aura of blue surrounded me. I inhaled his scent. I had waited so long.
I took a bite out of his heart, feeling his vitality overwhelm me. I could see brief flashes of his life – the layout of the city, including places that he had hidden those particularly weak and defenseless. Though he did not mean to, he gave me all the information I would need to see Remula finished once and for all, and after that was completed, I would be one step closer to returning to my Gods in paradise.
Following the fall of the grand wizard Gradelkine the Earthsworn, the Duskwraith forces joined us for the final purge. They were given no orders beyond making sure that every breathing individual was put to rest. If they wished to pillage, it was up to their own personal morals. Most of them lacked such a thing, as one can imagine.
Personally, I was not interested in partaking. I just observed instead. I was enthused at the carnal instincts of mortals and how little they differed from the demons of the Infernal Army. It was silly, really. The world acted as if my kind were something rare and summoned from the shadows. The truth was that they were all demons – they just lacked the ability to see it, or cast dark spells.
Remula itself, on the inside of its protective – yet broken – shell was beautiful. Everything was made from gemstones and sacred metals. It was a hoard of treasure, filled with more wealth than any place on Praetis, but it was irrelevant, for the occupants of Remula could not eat gemstones when they began to starve. Sure, they could trade them for food, but not while they fought wars in every direction. The demise of Remula was not on its own shoulders. I considered the Uxian Zaarians to be responsible for the fall of the entire Empi
re.
Diam was collapsing under its own weight for quite some time. When its people began to pillage Faera, the Emperor did nothing. They needed the food supply too desperately to upset its citizens, but the lack of leadership gave Morein the ultimate power he sought in the city. By declaring all others less than them, it was easy to slaughter any that came their way, not of their home. When the rebellion began, it was because Aresius’ father refused to stand up to his brother and allowed the south to erupt into chaos.
For the wealthy city of Uxe, it caused some stress, but they remained afloat with their somewhat rich lifestyles (at least in comparison to everyone else). For Remula, however, that meant that the much-needed food supply was limited to only what the capital could ration from their own. I am sure that is why the Zaarians decided to attack the Femorans; it was the only other location they could go to for food or other goods. Whatever they had been scrounging was in small quantities. Every Zaarian citizen, whether they be a warrior or civilian, appeared to be wasting away.
That fight was not a fair or just one. It was a slaughter. They hardly had the means to defend themselves after Gradelkine perished. Varnoc was entirely opposed to participating, as he had grown weary of watching such dishonorable death. I tried to counsel him – to tell him that this was the way of war and what the Emperor had wanted. It made little difference.
I ordered the city to be emptied of its jewels and resources as gifts for our home, which all were eager to do. It would make them heroes among our people. I suppose it would make me a hero, too, despite that they were just as much at risk as any others to be wiped from the planet.
The final day before we left I spent on the edge of the cliff, staring at Asinea and Azra. I was more than sated with the amount of sacrificing and demon summoning I completed. I was to leave the Infernal Army – both demons and the damned – to roam the remains of the Zaarian Empire. They would kill any they came across without me having to waste more of my time.