Phate

by Jason Alan

  The unicorn stayed her advance. Morigos, himself bursting with adrenaline, was about to protest when another cry came from close by.

  “No! Do not wield the sword.”

  Everyone looked up.

  Diving down through the clouds came a large white creature, its sky blue eyes shot with what Drinwor thought were streaks of fire, its snowy feathers tainted with stains of black blood. It cried out again, “Do not wield the sword!” and its labored, hoarse voice was suddenly recognizable.

  “Vu Verian!” the companions all shouted in unison.

  Drinwor was shocked, gladdened, and a bit dubious all at once. “Where have you been?” he asked.

  The Great White Owl flew down in front of them, looking as if he’d already fought the battle for the fates. “I come from Vren Adiri, and I tell you, the Sunsword will not stay the tides of eternity! It has no power against such a mighty force!” He thrust a wingtip toward the Devil’s Wind. “That is undefeatable! We must preserve the sword!”

  Drinwor was confused. His surging adrenaline partially quelled, he lowered Surassis, but did not extinguish the blade.

  Morning’s Hope said, “Preserve the sword? For what?”

  “We must safeguard it against this horde,” Vu Verian proclaimed, “hide it until such time as it can be used against Nenockra Rool.”

  “That time is fast approaching!” Morning’s Hope returned.

  Vu Verian shook his head. “We’ll never get close to the Devil King. The demons will overrun us. Come, let us take Surassis to Areshria. I know a chamber where we can hide it.”

  Drinwor’s eyes widened. “Is Areshria out there? I don’t see it.”

  “It’s out there,” Vu Verian affirmed.

  Morning’s Hope was livid. “No!”

  “No? Areshria isn’t out there?” Morigos chimed in.

  Morning’s Hope went from livid to enraged. Again, she swung her head to face the dark elf. “Morigos! Stop it!” Then she shot her look back to Vu Verian. “And no, we will not hide the sword, or preserve it, or whatever it is you’re suggesting! Now is the time for the Son and Savior of the Stars to vanquish all evil from the universe!” She motioned to Drinwor, his dark figure blurred behind the radiance of the sword’s blazing blade.

  “You’ve always known,” Vu Verian calmly stated, “The boy cannot stave off the forces of the Dark Forever.”

  Drinwor’s silver eyes narrowed as he whispered, “I’m a boy no longer…”

  Morning’s Hope was stunned. “Cannot…? Vu Verian, what madness afflicts you?”

  “The sky elf spirits have contaminated him!” Morigos shouted. “He was never the same since the confrontation with his deceased brethren!”

  Vu Verian leered at the dark elf, then angled toward the starlit unicorn, screaming, “Traitorous dark elf fiend! I’ll spread your atoms into the demonstorm. I’ll see your spirit sucked to its core!”

  Morigos loosed an irritated sigh. “Oh, bother, not this again.”

  Morning’s Hope flew between the ancient enemies, her huge bulk blocking any straight line of fire. “Fools! Enough! There will be no more discussion. I will—”

  Her voice was cut off by a sound like a thousand avalanches set off at once, a tremendous crackling boom that easily drowned out the cacophony of battle. It painfully pierced their ears, and Drinwor thought perhaps the world was splitting apart.

  I hesitate to scribe this, but…he was nearly correct.

  Many miles out to sea, in the center of the Devil’s Wind, an already massive rift was tearing even wider across the sky. It stretched so long it looked as if a new horizon had been suspended above the old one. The legions of the Dark Forever went silent. Struck with a forced penitence, they paused their attack. Everything paused, as a matter of fact, and the forces of both light and darkness watched as a clawed foot the size of a small continent stepped through the rift and stomped into the sea. It splashed down so heavily, the ensuing tsunamis doused the clouds. It was so huge, the sea couldn’t even cover the top of its toes after it settled. Drinwor feared the whole world might crumble beneath the weight of that foot.

  “It is the devil of all devils,” Vu Verian cried, “the doom of us all, the end of the universe!”

  “Nenockra Rool,” Morigos whispered, his head bowing, “it is he.”

  “Now we can attack!” Morning’s Hope shouted over the tumult of the resurgent battle. “Drinwor, are you with me?”

  “Let us fly!” the dusk elf replied, his shining eyes doing nothing to disguise the intensity behind them. The saddle-throne disappeared. He began pacing across his dragon’s broad back, waving Surassis around expectantly, readying to fight. The sight of Nenockra Rool had at first astounded him, but now it filled him with purpose—purpose fueled by an immortal energy.

  Finally, his destiny had arrived!

  Morning’s Hope looked to Vu Verian and spread her wings wide as if to remind the sky elf of her superiority. She coldly said, “I don’t know what madness has overcome you, but either fly with us as a servant of the stars, or fly away. I will say this only once: do not challenge me, or I swear by the Fallen Angel…” She let out an exasperated huff, choosing not to finish the statement. She instead closed with: “Do not interfere with the doings of the savior or his servants. It is your choice.”

  “Don’t trust him!” Morigos warned. “Don’t!”

  Vu Verian gave the dark elf mage a sinister little scowl, then looked away, his eyes darting here and there as he considered the dragon’s words.

  Morning’s Hope said to Morigos, “My instincts tell me that you may very well be right, but my heart and a thousand years of loyalty to the sun cannot turn him aside.” Then she swung her head back to Vu Verian, her eye a well of brightening purpose. She spoke softly now, pleading, “We need your strength, my ancient friend, now more than ever.”

  A moment passed, and then the white owl whispered, “It is yours.”

  Morning’s Hope nodded.

  Morigos cackled, slapped his knee. “Then may doom find us all!”

  And with that, Morning’s Hope led the companions forward, careful to fly high over the fighting and fires raging across the Wicked Plains.

  As they soared toward the palaces, a large group of volcanic spirit dragons broke from the melee to meet them. When the molten beasts approached, they called to Morning’s Hope. She answered and, after a brief exchange, the dragons moved to surround the companions in a wide triangular phalanx. A smaller yet similarly organized force took point in front of the rest, and the entire group ascended.

  “Guardians!” Morigos observed. “Good!”

  “My servants,” Drinwor murmured as he viewed the volcanic dragons from closer than ever before. He thought them glorious. Their eyes were similar to his, sockets full of silvery-white spirit-fire. They were large and sleek, commanding all the awe and presence of a greater dragon. Their streaming coats of sparking lava gave off a hot orange aura as they flowed around their souls. Though different than Morning’s Hope, these dragons didn’t seem so out of place among her. Drinwor took some comfort that these beasts had come to serve them…to serve him.

  And it was a good thing that they had.

  Before the group reached the sky elf palaces, a trio of specter demons disguised as storm clouds swept up in front of them. Immediately recognizing them for what they were, the six volcanic spirit dragons in the lead broke formation and dashed forward, spitting molten fire. The barrages slammed into the clouds, igniting them, and the demons shrieked in pain. The dragons, intent on finishing off the vile creatures, extended their talons and continued rushing in. The demons were ready for them. Claws unfurled out of their venomous vapor, and the dragons flew right into their grasp. Necks were squeezed and slashed. Lava erupted from lacerated throats. Soon all the combatants were as one wriggling mass of fire and shadow! The tumbling tumult fell down through the sky, struck the surface of a molten river and exploded. Nothing was left but the agonizing echo of lost souls, whimpering
as they disappeared into nothingness.

  Morning’s Hope turned to Vu Verian. “Six souls lost.”

  Vu Verian viewed her with frightful eyes.

  “Six more souls,” she emphasized.

  And then came another earsplitting roar.

  Everyone cringed, and Morigos said, “Ah! Deafness take me already so I no longer have to hear the racket of the world!”

  This time it was the collective sound of a million demons stabbing the sky with screams as they poured over the cliffs to join the melee on the Wicked Plains. More sorcerous storms were conjured, and coils of black cloud snaked around the sky elf towers to come rushing down toward the companions. The guardian dragons cawed, then shot forward, leading the companions below the storms, but into the midst of titanic battle!

  Soular Centurion 7 flew beneath the dimensions.

  It was a strange place, like one universe hiding in the shadows of another. Stars flickered darkly and worlds were but great translucent spheres floating away from black suns. Purple streams of liquid fire wound through supernova-like clouds, and alien apparitions drifted aimlessly about. But none of this garnered the centurion’s attention, for he was searching for the necromancer. He had lost his precise location upon shifting fully into this new dimension.

  Syndreck shouldn’t be difficult to spot, he mused. There should be a telltale tether of magic somewhere close by, because the necromancer had to keep some ties to Phate to maintain control over his evil doings.

  Soular Centurion 7 didn’t have to search long before he found a sparkling grey line leading into a dying solar system. The line wove through a score of lifeless planets, then disappeared into the shadows of a phantom moon. The centurion slipped around the moon’s far side…and found Syndreck’s skeletal specter hovering in the darkness near the bottom of a tremendous crater.

  – TARGET REACQUIRED. INITIATE APPROACH PATTERN NOVIUSS 6 –

  The centurion came up quietly, stealthily…

  …and then with all speed shot forward, unleashed his sword and slashed it down at his enemy’s gleaming skull!

  Syndreck flew aside, avoiding the strike, screaming, “Persistent pest!” Then he spun around and vomited fire.

  The centurion hacked it away.

  “Vile betrayer of the Dark Forever!” Syndreck yelled as he blasted into the void. “What delusion of righteousness motivates you?”

  Still having no use for words in this story, the centurion didn’t respond. Only the whirring of his mechanical movements and the monk-like chanting of his sword sounded in this lonely realm. For a moment he watched Syndreck fly away, then he gave chase.

  And lo the chase was fast!

  Flying like a couple of wild comets, the two soon accelerated to near light speed, flying deeper into the depths beneath the dimensions, entering levels of existence that existence itself had forgotten. They saw things no one had seen in a billion years: the dissolving ghosts of forsaken demigods begging for help they knew would never come; lost starships the size of solar systems spinning out of control, their immortal captains slumped and defeated in their metal thrones; galaxy-sized cemeteries of souls stretching into untold distances, their ghosts waiting for the reopening of the Seven Glories. They raced through all of these things, chasing to the very ends of this hidden universe.

  And always Soular Centurion 7 was right on his target’s tail.

  “Come! Come!” Syndreck beckoned, his skeletal fingers constantly flinging fire over his shoulder.

  Again and again, the Sword of Molecular Destruction swallowed the flames.

  “You cannot forestall the coming of the Dark Forever!” Syndreck yelled. “Your soul will burn in the Lakes of Liquid Hate!”

  But nothing the necromancer could say slowed his opponent.

  Soular Centurion 7 was closing.

  Drinwor Fang was surrounded by sky elf palaces on fire. Such sights were nearly beyond his ability to believe, but I swear, they happened as I describe. Oh, dear Drinwor! Demons of every conceivable size and shape climbed the towers and slashed spirit elves into soulless shreds. They overtook the palaces and rode them to explosive deaths upon the Wicked Plains. Drinwor fought back crystal tears as he saw graceful towers topple over and plunge down into the Devil’s Wind, where the Raging Sea swallowed them like great warships whose hulls had been rent by mighty cleaves. And as much as the sights raced Drinwor’s heart, the sounds shivered his soul. Specter demons screeched and thunder storms bellowed as fireballs of every size, color, and consistency blasted everything. Claws sliced volcanic spirit dragons to slivers, and the wailing agony of dying souls was a continuous song amongst it all!

  “Drinwor?” called Morning’s Hope over the roar of battle.

  Upon hearing his dragon’s voice, Drinwor shook himself from staring at a disintegrating palace and shouted, “I’m still with you!”

  “Good! Let’s keep it that way!” Morning’s Hope turned her head from side to side. “Morigos, Vu Verian! We fly for Nenockra Rool! Everyone, at all costs, stay close to me!”

  Vu Verian said nothing, but Morigos yelled, “Suicidal dragon! The minions of Nenockra Rool have already found us! Look!”

  Morning’s Hope glanced to where the dark elf pointed. “I see them.”

  A legion of huge demons appeared through the crimson haze on the edge of the cliffs. They were glistening black and many-limbed, with eyes glowing red and long curved horns extending from atop their broad, flat heads. They climbed over the cliffs, sprinted up piles of burning bodies, then leaped into the air, wings sprouting from their backs. One and all they flew for the glorious glare of the Sunsword Surassis!

  Dozens of volcanic dragons dove down to meet them, but it was no contest. The demons’ giant claws tore through their wings and ripped their souls from their molten skin. The dragons’ screams were horrific; the diabolical laughter of their murderers equally horrifying. The demons punched through the dissolving carcasses and headed straight for the companions.

  “Begone vile creatures!” Morning’s Hope shouted before she spat a concentrated beam of white fire into the center of the oncoming horde. Many demons burned and exploded, but her powerful burst couldn’t slay them all. Those who survived engaged her head on. She shredded most with her foreclaws, but what remained landed on her back…

  …and met the Son and Savior of the Stars.

  “Drinwor!” Morning’s Hope yelled.

  “One Life, One Soul, One Sword!” the dusk elf screamed from the very pits of his being. He raised the massive blade of Surassis high into the air and called out a challenge in a tongue he’d never before heard or uttered.

  The demons answered, for here was the enemy of all the Dark Forever! They surged forward, ready to tear him from the sky.

  But oh, I tell you, Surassis might as well have been an extension of Drinwor’s soul as he unleashed all the pent-up frustrations of his life onto the attacking horde. He leaped across his dragon’s back, spinning in midair, whipping the sword around with unimaginable speed. The Halo of the Gods appeared and a host of fireballs was slashed to sparks before the demons that cast them were sliced to fiery pieces. Those who survived Drinwor’s initial onslaught rushed him, swinging and snapping as they came, but it was to no avail. Our little elf was much too fast. Drinwor dove forward, rolled beneath the striking pincers and claws, then came up swinging. Surassis swept out in a wide arc, came full around, and the demons were cut into burning halves.

  But more demons flew in.

  And more…and more…and more.

  They came in endless bunches, attacking Drinwor from every angle, but always they were destroyed. The Son and Savior of the Stars dashed back and forth from the base of his dragon’s neck to the spaded tip of her tail, running and somersaulting, hacking and swinging his blade with a speed and accuracy unknown to mortal warriors.

  “My Lord,” Morning’s Hope called, “I cannot fight them off and balance you on my back!”

  Five demons flew at her face; she swept them a
way with a breath of lightning, their crackling bodies sent tumbling to the Wicked Plains.

  “Fight them off!” Drinwor commanded. “You won’t lose me!”

  Guardian volcanic dragons dove in, blasting as many fiends away from Morning’s Hope as they could. Morigos’ sour singing continuously sounded from her flanks, and his staff’s acidic green fire splattered demons with burning pain. “Come, dance with me!” he cried.

  “Cover the Emperor!” Morning’s Hope ordered the dark elf.

  “Who will cover you?” he called back.

  “I will!” Drinwor swore as he thrust his blade into the belly of a descending demon. He rolled aside and the beast glanced off his dragon’s back and fell.

  Arcynn Ahnna Jha flew over Drinwor and stayed with Morning’s Hope as best she could, her starry hide barely managing to elude the deadly swipe of dirty claws.

  “Where’s that blasted sky elf of yours?” Morigos called down to Drinwor.

  Drinwor had no idea. Where was Vu Verian? Between killing demons, the dusk elf shot glances across the sky. Eventually he spotted the Great White Owl left of their position, fighting amongst the few surviving guardian volcanic dragons. Vu Verian arced smoothly through the air, his blue flames slicing heads from the bodies of any demons foolish enough to approach him.

  “I see him!” Drinwor shouted. “He’s with us!”

  And then, just as Drinwor looked away from the mystic, he heard Morigos scream, “Turn aside, turn aside! Doom from above!”

  They all looked up.

  Drinwor was mortified. “Morning’s Hope!”

  “We can’t avoid it!” she shrieked.

  Directly above them, a sky elf palace was exploding into massive shards. Huge sections of ruined tower, on fire and crumbling, came plummeting down. The ruins were too close and too big to avoid…

  So, the companions flew up through it.

  “Watch out!” Morning’s Hope called out as the palace’s fragmented foundation fell atop them. She veered aside, followed the starlit unicorn through a large break in the stone, but couldn’t avoid getting scraped by the flaming wreckage as it whisked past her. Laden with more wounds, she grunted, but continued to climb. Drinwor ducked, held Surassis protectively over his head. Vu Verian spun away left, disappearing into a haze of burning rubble. Arcynn Ahnna Jha wrenched hard to her right, Morigos cursing as they flew through a shower of fire and dust. There seemed to be no end to the destruction! Sections of burning stairs and shattered windows fell past. The remains of royal chambers stung them all with a rain of crystal shards. The companions continued dodging from side to side, desperately evading the debris.