by Rosie Scott
The messenger spoke up in agreement. “You're right. Altan took as many men as he could, and Makani had most of its ships. I'd wager only three thousand troops were left in the city. He did leave one warship in the harbor, just in case.”
“One,” Uriel mused, before a dry laugh.
“That's enough for us to join him,” I replied, to which the sixth Sentinel snapped his fingers and pointed at me with agreement.
“Then let's get to it,” Cyrus murmured, before thanking the messenger.
“Should I continue to Mistral?” The woman asked, one hand petting the neck of her griffon when it shook its thick head with a burst of impatience.
“Yes,” Cyrus answered. “The queen has no Sentinels to send, anyway. And even if she does, any reinforcements can simply reroute to Esen to help Naolin if we can take care of Makani.”
The messenger nodded. “Understood.” She kicked at her mount from two stirrups, and the griffon lifted itself heavily into the air with two glistening wings. “May the gods have mercy on you!”
“They never have before,” Nyx muttered, as the messenger flew quickly away.
Now I knew the reasons my intuition had been nagging at me. Chairel had directed Narangar's navies to attack around the same time their armies would be marching on T'ahal. I had to admit, it was an overwhelming prospect. With Glacia's attack looming on the horizon and T'ahal already threatened, the last thing we needed was for Makani to fall.
“Altan should not be in Makani alone,” Cyrus rambled, troubled by this turn of events.
“The queen has no one else,” I told him. “She wouldn't risk sending Bhaskar anywhere but Glacia.”
“Yes, I know. And with Kirek in Nahara...” Cyrus cut himself short, unwilling to voice his doubts to me. “Kai, I have been a Sentinel for hundreds of years, and this is the first time I've felt this uncertain.”
“Chairel only attacks when they can show their might,” I replied. “This should not be a surprise to you. They know now how quickly I've progressed; they seek to match my efforts with their own.”
“It isn't Chairel's actions which have me uncertain,” Cyrus replied. “It is their actions combined with those of Glacia and Hammerton. We are up against immense odds, and Eteri is your greatest ally. Your other allies are unable to lend their support to us yet. This is up to us and us alone.”
“Then we cannot fail,” I replied.
Cyrus chuckled dryly as if he could not believe my refusal to give in to doubt. “Yes,” he finally agreed, “we cannot.”
*
9th of New Moon, 422
A little more than a fortnight after running across the messenger, we reached Makani. The port city sat just below the southern wall of the Cleves and sprawled across the eastern shores of Eteri and the surrounding grasslands. Makani appeared much more significant than Mistral, though that was probably due to the eye's perception. Most of the capital city was kept hidden within the Orna Cliffs, while Makani's stone buildings were unique structures over the landscape and were bordered by cobblestone streets. With a hefty dose of curiosity, I noted that many of Makani's buildings and statues were built out of sandstone. Perhaps it was imported from Nahara for exorbitant prices.
When we arrived in Makani, it was early in both the year 422 and the budding, warm season of New Moon, so the weather was brisk but sunny. It was darker than it should have been, however; the skies above the port city were hazy with smoke and a gritty residue that I did not recognize. Cyrus and Uriel explained to me that such waste was stagnant in the air after many dwarven attacks, due to the gritty gunpowder which allowed their cannons to fire. Such haze of it in the air meant that the dwarves of Narangar had threatened the city for some time and destroyed architecture. At first, this was hard to believe, since the buildings near us as we walked through Makani were unblemished. As we kept moving to the coastal section of the city, however, we saw the aftermath of the attack.
Many of the buildings nearest the docks were crumbling, having been hit by cannon fire. Cobblestone in the streets was scorched in some places and stained a deep reddish-brown in others, proving that the roads had seen both fire and death. There were three Eteri warships in the harbor when we arrived. One of them was in the midst of being repaired. An entire section of its side had been torn open by some horrifically damaging dwarven siege weapon, leaving the wood paneling splintered and uneven. The copper wiring of Maggie's designs had been bent. Two sails of the ship were hanging broken by their masts, torn and shredded.
The other two ships appeared relatively fine, but the harbor was full of injured crew. Men and women were in the midst of being tended to by healers and surgeons, some of them right on the docks. For many, it was already too late. There were bodies on cots along the harbor, covered up to their faces with white sheets, some of the fabrics stained with blood.
Our presence in Makani was noted by both the soldiers and its populace. Many were relieved to see Cyrus and Uriel until they realized the army behind them was extraordinarily small. Reinforcements had arrived, but not many. I could only hope our arrival would end up making a difference.
One of the soldiers on the docks stood up beside an injured comrade as she watched us near, and saluted to Cyrus and Uriel. The two Sentinels slowed to a stop before her.
“How may I be of assistance?” The soldier questioned, bringing her hand back down to her side.
“We need the last known location of Altan Marcet and his army,” Cyrus requested.
The soldier turned slightly to point east. Because the day was slowly turning to evening, the skies were darkening. Despite the weather being relatively calm, there was a burst of lightning on the horizon, which lit up the skies with a flash of purple light. It was so far away that I could not hear the resulting thunder from here. Altan and his mages had pushed the dwarves back from the port of Makani, but they were evidently still in the heat of battle.
“Altan leads a navy of ten thousand to Narangar in retaliation,” the soldier explained. “They are sending ships back to be repaired when they are able. Altan's orders to us were to take care of these ships like our own children. His navy consists of just under thirty-five ships. Loaded up each one with close to three hundred crew with orders to take the dwarven ships when they can.”
That made sense. Altan's primary concern was keeping Eteri's navy strong, especially now that construction of warships had halted with the destruction of Tal. Eteri could not afford to lose ships now when so many of our future plans utilized them.
“Which of these ships can we take?” Uriel requested, his light eyes moving over the two in the harbor which were unharmed.
“This one, probably,” the woman replied, pointing to the last in the harbor. The warships here rivaled the Galleon Stallion in their size, though Eteri's ships were less bulky and built with a more streamlined design. These ships also did not have the mechanical contraptions of the dwarves, save for the shielding system. There were no cannons or ballistae, though each vessel was stocked with multiple grappling hooks for boarding.
“It's stocked and ready for battle?” Uriel clarified.
The soldier hesitated. “I can make sure it is. I hope you'll forgive my uncertainty. It's been hectic around here.”
“Understandably.” Cyrus looked into the streets of Makani, noting the groups of soldiers helping to clear rubble. “Please ensure the ship is ready tonight. We'll need a crew of three hundred prepared as well.”
The soldier nodded. “Yes, sir. It will be done.”
“Thank you.” The Sentinel watched as the soldier hurried off to follow his orders.
“This is like...a few night thing, right?” Nyx questioned, her eyes over the sea.
Cyrus chuckled humorlessly. “Not if all goes according to plan. If Altan is taking the fight to Narangar, it will take a good moon just to reach it. There is always the chance we will have to retreat, but that's obviously a last resort. I don't see us coming back to land for a half year or so.”
&n
bsp; Nyx sighed heavily. “And here I thought I was done with boats.”
“How were you planning on getting back to Chairel?” Cerin retorted.
“Swimming,” Nyx jested, shooting the necromancer a glare.
“Queen Tilda won't object to us being gone for so long?” I questioned. “She expected us back in mid-New Moon. If your estimation is correct, we might not make it back to Mistral until next year.”
“Our orders are to heed the call of the war horns,” Cyrus told me. “We heard them. The messenger knows we are here and will relay as such back to the queen. If she has different orders for us, we will learn of them by messenger. Scirocco is currently guarded. Naolin defends Esen. There is an army in Mistral. The only order I see her giving us is to head to Glacia, but with a threat this close to our home, I feel this is a top priority.”
I said nothing because I couldn't argue with that.
We were on the ship by nightfall, surrounded by three hundred battle-ready men and women. The soldiers and Sentinels of Eteri were well-trained in sailing and naval battles since most of the country's wars had been fought by sea. A few dozen crew were required to man a ship this size, which left the rest to other activities. It also meant that we'd still be able to sail after losing a high percentage of people if need be. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.
Our ship departed from Makani, and it felt much different than when we'd left Killick almost three years ago with Calder on the Galleon Stallion. We hadn't been planning on a big battle years ago. We were sailing straight into one now. Altan was the best Sentinel Eteri had in its arsenal; if he thought it was worth taking the fight to Narangar, I would be there with him. After all, Narangar held Chairel's only navy. Thornwell and Dagmar were both harbor towns, but they only had boats for fishing and trade. If we could somehow win this battle with Narangar or even disable their ships by wrecking and stealing them, Eteri could be safe from a counter-attack of Chairel's by sea for years to come. Then, that would give us time to move Eteri's armies through Hammerton and eventually to my home country with little distraction. Thus, the battle ahead could be monumentally crucial to the war overall.
I mentally thanked Altan for making the decision to retaliate. This gave me my first chance to act offensively against Chairel, and even though the upcoming battle would likely be long and bloody, I felt overwhelming excitement.
“You should get some rest below deck while you can,” Uriel told me, while the healer leaned on the wooden railing of the bow. The waters ahead were dark and foreboding, just the tips glistening in the starlight. I leaned onto the railing next to him, and the Sentinel glanced over and smiled as I made myself comfortable.
“You aren't resting,” I pointed out.
“Not yet,” the Sentinel agreed. “I have let Cyrus sleep for now. I like to store as much energy as I can in these chargers before I sleep and gain more energy naturally.” He reached over to the metal box with a boot, tapping it lightly.
I glanced up to the yellow and black sails of the ship which were whipping and rippling as we made our way east. Beyond the sails, there was only the black night sky dotted by thousands of twinkling stars. “You have not given this ship a shield,” I commented, noting the lack of magical glow surrounding us.
“Not yet. I am only storing energy with givara la mana.” Uriel studied me curiously. “I am assuming Maggie taught you how shielding works, given your work with her in Tal.”
“She did, but I mostly worked with alteration shields since that is what I developed there.”
“The shield you taught me to absorb energy?” Uriel questioned.
“Both the absorb and reflect shields work,” I said with a nod. “In the case of a storm or fighting mages, you'll probably want to use the absorb shield the most. It will constantly replenish you with the energies of offensive magics and the environment.”
“That is really impressive,” Uriel murmured. “Is that the shield you used when Bhaskar tested you with his magic?”
“Yes.”
“How did it work? With the shield surrounding the ship, does it only give the mages energy or the whole crew?”
“The crew,” I replied, remembering the frantic energies left in the air after the power of the sun had swept past us. “Which is helpful for healers, as you can imagine. You'll no longer be relied upon to replenish the energies of others, and energy is recycled straight from the environment and into the ship's defenses.”
“That sounds like a dream come true,” Uriel admitted. As we both watched the skies ahead, the blackness lit up in multiple spots in bursts of orange, before streaks of fire fell from the heavens. One of Eteri's mages was raining meteors over dwarven ships.
“That seems pretty close,” I murmured.
“We will probably reach the battle in a day or two,” Uriel replied, unconcerned.
“You have been in so many battles it no longer fazes you,” I jested.
The healer chuckled. “I've seen many battles. I enjoy myself, and I love being on the sea. This is all just a fact of life for me.”
“Altan told me that you were there when Bjorn Berg requested a peaceful resolution with Eteri back in 403.”
Uriel's eyes widened as the fire in the distance reflected from them. “Yes, I was. And Altan told me that Bjorn meant a great deal to you.”
“He was like a father to me when Sirius didn't care for the job.”
Uriel nodded, though he offered, “I am sorry for your loss. News of Bjorn's execution shocked Eteri, though it shouldn't have surprised us. He was the only Seran we ever respected. Learning why he was executed did shock us. We'd had no idea you were forming a rebellion. Forgive me for saying this, but we never thought too highly of you until that news came along.”
“You thought I was a hypocrite,” I said, so he didn't have to. It was the same wording Jakan had used back in Nahara.
“Yes. You wielded all six elements as the famous daughter of a regent in a country that had one of the elements banned. Not to mention, Chairel has always pretended like it owns the very concept of magic. It is astonishing how a country of mostly humans is arrogant enough to believe what it does.”
“You're starting to sound like Tilda,” I mused.
Uriel laughed dryly. “I don't mean to. I just find it ironic, is all. Humans are the weakest race on all of Arrayis, and they run the most powerful country in the world. Do you not find that interesting?”
“Chairel is a melting pot of cultures,” I replied. “Dwarves run Narangar and Brognel, while the Celdic run Celendar. The rest of Chairel is a mixture of people from various races. It's what gives them so many benefits. No other country in the world is as diverse. The Naharans are almost all human. Your country is almost nothing but Vhiri. The underground was only Alderi and will remain mostly that given its harsh location. Hammerton belongs to the dwarves. Glacia belongs to the Icilic. Each race has benefits and detriments, but Chairel allows all of them to work together. If it were run by only humans, they would have as many problems as everyone else.”
“Chairel may be diverse, but humans are still the majority. Queen Edrys is human. Sirius is human. Most of the towns and villages are human. And the Celds and dwarves follow their lead.”
“I am half-human, and many have followed my lead,” I pointed out.
“I am amazed to hear you say that,” Uriel admitted, studying me carefully. “The whole time I've known you, you have only referred to yourself as a god.”
I thought back to our many conversations and realized he was right. “It is the identity most applicable to me now,” I told him. “I do not have people after my head because I am human. I did not cause mass devastation in Sera with the powers of a human. All of the years I thought I was only human were full of fear and denial for having what I thought would be a short life. That is what I associate with being human, Uriel. Mortality.” I paused. “How old are you?”
“I will soon turn three hundred and sixty,” the Sentinel replied.
“I once thought I would die before I turned twenty-five. Then I visited my mother, and—” I snapped my fingers. “Just like that, everything changed. Everything I knew was a lie. I once thought I was on my deathbed, and in the span of one day, I was faced with the realization that I will live for hundreds of years. Because I am a necromancer, I have the possibility of becoming as immortal as Hades has managed to get. Try to imagine how that changes someone, Uriel.”
“That is all I can do,” Uriel admitted sympathetically. “Imagine it. You are the only product of the two most vastly different races we've ever known.”
I exhaled heavily beside the Sentinel. “Yes. A good friend once told me I have the humility of the humans and the arrogance of the gods. He was right, and the two often clash inside my head. The longer I wage war, the less human I feel. Everything I once associated with being human no longer applies to me.”
“You have a great love for the humans,” Uriel mused. “I can tell just by hearing you speak of them.”
“Because I once thought I was among them, and many I have loved or respected have been human.”
Uriel nodded in understanding. “Does it bother you, then, that you no longer consider yourself human?”
I hesitated. Uriel had an incessant curiosity which knew exactly how to dig into my innermost thoughts. I could have cursed it if I didn't welcome the opportunity to self-reflect. “I don't think it bothers me that I no longer feel human. It bothers me more that I only consider myself a god.”
Twenty-two
HUUURRRNNNNN!
The war horn was so loud and deep in tone that the ship beneath me vibrated until my teeth chattered. At first, I panicked because I didn't know where I was. I expected to find myself camping in the plains of Eteri because I'd been used to that for the better part of the past year. Instead, I was lying on a pathetically thin cot in the middle of a crowded lower deck of a ship. Cerin was waking to my right, and Azazel was getting up on my left. Jakan and Anto had been sleeping in the cots near my feet, and as my eyes darted around the deck, I found Maggie's larger form in a bed near the wall, where she had been forced to take two instead of one. Nyx trotted around waking soldiers to us, so I only could have imagined where she'd spent the night.