by M. E. Thorne
“Dark Lord?” Vexile carefully placed her hand on my shoulder.
I shook my head, “Is everything prepared below?”
She nodded, “Nichessa is just finishing up.”
Smoke poured up from the open rifts and holes in the ground. Nichessa and a handful of soldiers had gone below to set more fires, burning what remained of the mine’s supports. I could feel the ground trembling and groaning below, just waiting to give way.
Before we turned and left, I spotted the Spear of Subjugation. It was just where Sanderson had left it, resting in the dirt in front of his ruined mansion.
Removing my mantle, I used the cape to carefully pick up the weapon. It no longer shone with a deadly light, and I felt no pain as I held it through the cloth, but there was something still strange and uncomfortably otherworldly about it.
“Robert?” Vexile asked quietly.
I wrapped the thing up tightly, then hailed a soldier to stow it with the rest of our booty. “No sense leaving such a powerful weapon behind, to fall into the inquisition’s hands. Besides, maybe we can do something with it?”
At the very least we can melt the thing into slag.
Nichessa and the soldiers, covered in soot, emerged from the mines. She waved at us with all four of her arms. “Move! Get going!”
Hurrying, we ran with the last few stragglers and left the camp. An early morning breeze was coming off the ocean; it felt clean and refreshing after the horror of the night before.
We made our way to the rallying point, which was on a beach about a kilometer from the camp.
Smoke hung hazily above the smoldering ruins, as the last bombs we’d set caught the remaining buildings alight. The prisoners watched, wordlessly, as Sanderson’s mansion burned, flames bursting out of the empty window frames. A few of them cried, but for the most part, they were stoic, likely still in shock with the rapid and unforeseen miracle that had upended their lives.
We had collected all the bodies. The Luminark guards were stacked inside of the mansion, to make it appear they had all perished while trying to defend that building. We had made careful work to once again remove our bolts and any other signs of our presence.
Our dead were wrapped in stolen drapes, made into funeral shrouds. We’d carry them home with us.
Hopefully, when the inquisitors arrive, they’ll blame the whole thing on the dragon.
We had located more of the dragon’s brown, muddy scales, stuck into the earth along the side of the shaft it had dug. Vexile had been careful to harvest as many as possible, claiming they were holy relics. She had been sad when I argued we needed to leave some scattered around the camp, to help sell our story, but she had agreed.
She still had a small sack of them, bundled away with everything else that we were hauling away.
At the rallying point, I was bolstered by seeing our remaining soldiers and all the people we had rescued. I climbed to the top of a nearby sand dune.
“I am Dark Lord Robert Grailmont,” I announced, using what strength I had left to bolster my voice, so it would carry over the wind and surf. “I am joined by my ascendant queens, High Priestess Vexile and Lady Nichessa.”
The crowd stared up at me, eyes wide, murmuring amongst themselves as my two queens came up to stand with me. Several fell to their knees, prayers to Revina on their lips.
“Today marks the end of this nightmare,” I said. “You have been freed from your bonds, your liberation brought about by the divine will of Revina.”
I turned to Nichessa, “Let it by your hands that this land be made pure, and the blight of the Luminark Empire erased from existence!”
“Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?” she whispered.
I just smiled sadly, before gesturing, arms wide, towards the camp. Vexile stayed with me as Nichessa marched back off the beach. She stood facing the camp, her four arms raised into the air. In one swift, violent motion she brought them down, hammering her fists into the earth.
It didn’t take much, the mines and tunnels were already on the verge of collapse. With a single, cataclysmic tremor, the earth was torn open, its hungry maw swallowing the burning buildings, the tumbled walls, and the smoking rubble in a single gulp.
The disaster rippled along the foothills, as the remaining mines and passages gave way; huge plumes of dirt were thrown into the air as they all caved in. The echoing groans of the earth, as it engulfed the Luminark’s labors, sounded like muted thunder.
We stood and watched, silent the whole time until the last of the dirt settled, and we were left looking at the raw, churned earth. There was nothing left of Sanderson and his little, pitiful kingdom. Nichessa dusted off her palms and then returned to us.
I turned back towards the prisoners. No, I reminded myself, they’re no longer prisoners, they’re free people and the future citizens of Gloomglow, those that will help us rebuild Duskhaven.
“The age of Luminark tyranny is coming to an end,” I told the crowd, my voice still booming. “and they shall suffer for what they have done. Their corrupt empire will be brought low by those they had abused and despised.”
On queue, Garnet and her soldiers slammed their weapons against their shields and armor, the clang enforcing our iron-hard resolve.
“But before that, we have work to do,” I said, channeling more of my magic into my voice. “We must rebuild. The lost kingdom of Duskhaven shall rise from the ashes.”
“For that, I need you,” I called. “We need miners, and blacksmiths, cooks, and carpenters. A kingdom cannot rise without its people, for they are its beating heart, its strong limbs. So we ask you, will you help us? Your Dark Lord has returned, your ascendants have returned, and we plead for your aid!”
The crowd cheered. For the first time, they looked up at us with something akin to hope in their eyes. I knew that we had only begun to win their trust, that there would be a long, hard path ahead of us, one that would ultimately lead to further bloodshed and strife.
But seeing our people and their joy, I knew it would all be worth it.
Breaking decorum, Vexile hugged my arm, while Nichessa placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“Come!” I cried, “Come with us to Gloomglow, and together, we shall rebuild this kingdom!”
Epilogue
“All together,” Nichessa commanded, her arms straining as she hauled on the rope.
Slowly, she lifted the block of stone, as the workers maneuvered it into place, filling the last gap in the wall. We all gave a collective cheer; the restoration was complete.
“Amazing,” I said, looking up at their work with sheer admiration. “We are impressed beyond words by your handiwork.”
“It was a bitch,” Nichessa huffed, wiping her face with a cloth. “But well worth it.”
It had taken three months, but we had finally finished repairing Gloomglow keep’s inner wall. Not only did we now have a defensible barrier, should the need arise, but we had made multiple modifications to its original design, using Nichessa’s magic and ingenuity.
As we watched, the sluice gates by the water tower were released, and a clear stream of water ran down into the miniature aqueduct we’d built into the wall. By the wall’s base, all the new homes we’d constructed would have fresh water on demand, eliminating the need to fetch it from the fountain or haul it in buckets. Public fountains would help service the other residences and buildings.
It had been Nichessa’s idea, and I was so happy to see it come to fruition. Though she resisted, I encouraged her to go and celebrate with her workers, who had labored with her during the entire project.
“It is all thanks to Queen Nichessa, and her workers, that this is possible,” I said, my voice carrying over the commotion. “But remember, this is only the beginning. Gloomglow will not be the only city we restore, we have an entire kingdom to rebuild!”
The people cheered again, exuberant in their success.
I was happy for everyone. We had faced great difficulty upon our return t
o Gloomglow; we had suddenly tripled our population, and even with the supplies we had salvaged from the labor camp we had quickly faced shortfalls in food and housing. It was only by the monumental work of Emil, Rigs, Ahkil, and the others that we were able to make it through such a challenging period.
Thankfully, our rescued citizens had thrown themselves into their new home, volunteering to work on our farms, expanding our fields and orchards, while others joined construction crews to build new homes and repair the wall.
Nichessa found her magic didn’t work as well on cut stone as it did on raw earth, but nonetheless, she had worked hard to help construct new buildings, using her colossal strength when magic would not suffice.
Vexile had aided me in organizing our vastly increased population, ensuring that everyone’s needs were met. Many of the new arrivals had sheltered in Revina’s temple, as Vexile and her acolytes had done everything in their power to keep them fed and clothed till permanent homes were ready.
For once, we didn’t feel like a bunch of refugees, huddling in the ruins of our ancestral home; we felt like citizens building a new nation.
At this rate, we’ll need to start expanding outside the inner walls, I mused, surveying our small kingdom. Emil and several of the workers have begun constructing homes closer to their farms as well; we really are expanding.
Looking back towards the inner walls, I was proud to see we now had warehouses, loaded with grains and vegetables, as well as the beginnings of several workshops that would produce clothing, paper, and other finished goods. With the black iron we had liberated, we were able to provide our workers real tools and basic machinery, vastly improving our capabilities.
The forge, one of the first things Nichessa had insisted on rebuilding, was up and running as well, and my queen was already discussing expanding it. We had several talented blacksmiths in our population, and they in turn were training new apprentices and workers to help us even further.
As I watched the scene, Dougherty came over. He and Garnet had come to watch the walls' completion, along with quartermaster Joey, since we were hoping to negotiate for more wood shipments.
“Dark Lord,” he nodded.
I nodded back. When I had returned to Gloomglow after liberating the mines, I had felt crushing guilt over the death of his soldiers. To my surprise, after Garnet had provided a full report, he had simply nodded and accepted their deaths. I was sure their passing had hurt him grievously since he had practically raised them, but he bore it with his typical stoicism.
We buried Raul and Vivian with every honor we could provide, their graves covered by wreaths of duskbells.
I was afraid that our friendship would sour afterward, but I found instead he treated me with a new level of respect. When he had offered to join our kingdom and pledge his loyalty to our throne, we had gladly accepted.
“How goes training the recruits, Captain?” I asked.
He gestured towards several of the soldiers, wearing the new uniforms we had provided, as part of our thanks for the watchtower’s unwavering duty. They were amongst the crowd, celebrating.
“Well,” was all he said.
Several of our new citizens had volunteered to serve the watchtower, having been impressed by the valor and sacrifice of Raul and Vivian.
Glancing, I saw Garnet was sitting back a bit from the celebrations, watching the scene. Since returning from the mines, she had grown more somber, more serious, some of her innocence and jubilance lost that bloody night. It pained me to see it, but at the same time, I understood it was a necessary thing.
“She’ll make a fine replacement for me, someday,” Dougherty noted, tracking my gaze.
“Not anytime soon,” I joked, letting some levity bleed into our interaction.
He grinned, “No, hopefully not.”
Jeanie and several other children ran by, screaming happily, as Dominic and George did their best to keep their new wards in order. The two former gladiators had truly found their calling, running a home for our community’s orphans. Their daycare program was also blooming, and I wouldn’t be surprised if all the children of Gloomglow came to love the pair as their guardian angels.
I thought about the small treasury Duskhaven now owned, hidden away in the royal chambers. We had several hundred Luminark gold coins, taken from Sanderson’s cash boxes. We had no use for them now; we were hardly about to introduce currency, let alone borrow coinage from our hated oppressors, but I was sure we could find a use for them eventually.
At least the fancy cloth and clothing we’d taken had found a good home right away, our tailors turning them into clothes for our newest citizens.
We also had the Spear of Subjugation, now securely locked in a black iron box that Nichessa had crafted. I had no idea what we were going to do with that vile thing, but like the coins, I was sure we’d figure something out.
It had taken over three weeks for the Luminark inquisitors to appear. Dougherty’s watchers had spotted them, a huge group of soldiers, clerics, functionaries, and Archangel ascendants traveling westward from the naval base. Garnet had rushed to Gloomglow to alert us, and we had followed their party from the shadows.
It was my first chance to see one of the Luminark’s ascendants. As Vexile had described, the archangels truly were seraphic figures, with great, white wings extending from their shoulders. They floated on the breeze, despite the fact that all of them were wearing heavy armor and bearing massive, unwieldy weapons. Several had Spears of Subjugation.
The inquisitors arrived at the ruins of the labor camp and quickly got to work excavating the ruins. As I had suspected, they paid particular attention to the warehouses, pulling out as much black iron as they could, counting and recounting the amounts retrieved to assure it all lined up.
It pained me to know that the metal would be taken back to the empire, but I knew it was a small cost to maintain our secrecy.
After several days, the inquisitors withdrew, loaded down by stolen metal, but hopefully with few answers. If they followed proper bureaucratic investigative procedures, I knew there would likely be several more inquisitor teams sent out to survey the site. They’d be followed by hearings, recriminations, trials, and denouncements.
If Luminark was as corrupt and moribund as I thought, I figured it would be years before they even decided to re-open the mine or not. By then, I was hoping our mining operation would be clandestinely up and running. Nichessa and our veteran miners already had several ideas on how we could harvest black iron with the Luminark being none the wiser.
It was late by the time the celebration ended; people slowly trickled back towards their new homes, the air growing chill as the heat of the day dissipated.
I stayed up on the restored wall, staring up at the dark sweep of the night sky. Despite our monumental advancements, we still had a huge variety of hurdles to overcome. We have enough food for the time being, but we need to start raising livestock and producing meat. Riggs and his hunters will soon need to expand their range even further, with so many new people to feed.
Plus we’ve pretty much exhausted our stock of cut stone, we used virtually everything left from both the inner and outer wall ruins to restore the wall and to build the new homes. Maybe we can start looking at salvaging more stone from the outlying ruins, like Vilewind? If not, we’ll have to consider founding a quarry.
And that doesn’t even begin to address our need for wood. We can’t keep risking Dougherty and the watchtower being discovered by sending people into Marshul.
The stars glittered overhead, and I tried to take heart from that. The goddess of darkness favored us, and with Vexile, Nichessa, and all the citizens behind us, we were sure to succeed. Weren’t we?
Strangely, I thought of my parents, as I finally returned to the royal quarters, my mantel drawn tightly around my shoulders, to ward off the chill.
I had no idea what my mother or father would think about my otherworldly circumstances. Did dad know his family was from another world?
Regardless, I hoped they would be proud of me. I had done my best to live up to their ideal and do my best to help those around me. To be someone who wouldn’t be afraid to do the right thing, at the right place, at the wrong time.
As I swept through the keep, the few remaining people that were still up paused and bowed. I stopped, briefly, talking with one or two of them at a time, making arrangements for our next project or discussing our current supply levels.
The keep had also undergone extensive repairs; the holes in the walls had been fixed, and we were able to open up a whole new wing of rooms for community use. George and Dominic had adopted several for their daycare work, and the others were being used by people like Ahkil and Riggs to organize our labor efforts.
We had also expanded the royal quarters again, adding a new chamber for Nichessa, and creating a new, private bath for our use. The citizens had been grateful for that last addition. Vexile often had to block off time at the public facilities, since she took up almost a whole tub by herself. Now that we had running water, of a sort, creating a private bath had greatly alleviated our community’s scheduling concerns. Nichessa had put a lot of work into creating a space that could accommodate all three of us at once if desired.
Plus, having the ability to take a hot bath after a tough day is really nice, I admitted to myself. I absently began rotating and flexing my one shoulder, looking forward to a nice soak before going to bed.
Entering my bedroom, I was welcomed by the unexpected sight of Nichessa and Vexile reclining on our rebuilt bed.
The blacksmith had insisted on working with some of the carpenters we had rescued to build proper furniture for the royal quarters.
“With how much Vexile and I weigh now, anything you have is going to split into kindling the second we sit on it,” she had grumbled.
The new bed easily held both of my wives, who broke off their hurried whispering as I entered the room.
“Robert,” Vexile smiled shyly.