by Toni Cox
Maia nodded. She had not changed into the falcon, except briefly to show Silas. For this mission, however, they agreed that during the day they would trek on foot, and at night they would change into their animal forms. Their animals had exceptional night vision.
“What about you?” she asked. “Are you ready to use your Soul magic to get the information we need from the Vampyres?”
Hesitantly, Blaid nodded. At first, they assumed only Maia had the Soul magic, which she used during healing, but Yolanden had corrected them, saying the Death Elemental had to connect to souls to send them to the afterlife. The old Prime had then explained that a Death Elemental was able to absorb the negative energy of a soul, or many souls, for a brief period of time, using this energy for himself.
At first, Blaid had not understood what Yolanden meant, but after some more explaining Blaid became quiet, and had withdrawn into himself. Black rage, he called it, eventually telling them of all the times it had happened to him. Maia knew what it felt like, as she had shared those feeling with Blaid before and knew them to be dangerous.
“Yolanden has shown you how to use your power for good. You need not fear to lose control anymore. I will be by your side.”
“I have caused so many deaths, Maia.”
“No more shall die because of it. Have faith. We are learning on this journey, but we are learning together. Would you have it any other way?”
“No, you’re right. Together, we can accomplish this.”
They did not make a fire, but ate their food cold. After sunset, they hid their bags and their clothes within a crevice in the cave and then changed, darkness hiding their nakedness. Knowing her true self, Maia changed easily, the bird flying from her body without the eruption of that first day.
She flew overhead while Blaid padded below; a lone, dark shape against the white snow in the moonlight. They covered a great area during the nights they ranged out in their animal shapes, unnoticed by many that dwelled in the forests. When they eventually came upon a camp hidden deep within the mountains, the Vampyres were completely ignorant of their presence as Maia sat on a branch above one of their tents and Blaid sat on his haunches looking down on them from an embankment.
A Werewolf sounded the alarm and a Vampyre rose from the fire to drive the wolf away. As arranged, Blaid let himself be chased and let the Vampyre believe Blaid to be a simple wolf.
Back at the cave, Maia and Blaid changed into their hunting clothes and strapped their weapons to their bodies. They threw their overcoats on before hiding their bags again and then began the march towards the Vampyre’s camp.
They knew the way now; two days and one night. They travelled with only one short break, afraid the Vampyres might move from their camp. When they reached it late on the second day, silence greeted them, but the camp still stood.
Maia found them a place to hide, while Blaid investigated the area.
“They must have gone hunting,” he whispered when he joined her up in the tree she had selected. “They hunt at night, so I believe they left but moments before we arrived.”
Blaid dug around in his satchel and produced a few items to show her.
“I found these.”
Startled, Maia looked at the two sketches. One of herself, the other of Blaid.
“And this.”
Blaid handed her a worn map of Grildor; a smaller map of Shadow Hall folded inside of it. Both maps had notes written all over it in Nayleran.
“And, then this.”
Maia gasped at this last item he produced. She had never seen a real one, but heard Glark tell of it. Of dwarfish make, this weapon fired twelve bolts of silver in rapid succession without the need to reload. Glark often told of its efficiency in killing Werewolves, but its proximity to Maia’s and Blaid’s pictures in the General’s tent told of another purpose.
“I am sure this lot was part of the attack on Shadow Hall,” Blaid continued. “There are now only nine, plus three Werewolves, but the camp was bigger at some point. I cannot wait to find out the meaning of all this.”
High up in the tree they waited as the night grew darker around them before the moons rose into the sky. The moonlight wove tiny tendrils of light through the dense branches overhead, hiding the camp below within a web of shadows.
The Vampyres approached silently after their hunt, careful even in thinking themselves alone. One started a fire within the centre of the camp, the flames hidden from outside eyes by the tents surrounding it. The Werewolves soon found their places, taking their bones from their kills with them to chew on for the remainder of the night.
Maia and Blaid observed for only a short while. Once the General discovered his missing items, he would sound the alarm. The moment he entered his tent, Blaid gave the signal to attack. As planned, they jumped from their tree, landing next to the fire within the center of the camp, catching the Vampyres by surprise.
Two years ago, Maia could not have imagined herself in a situation as this. Now, she wielded her Twin Blades with deadly precision, not thinking twice to take a life. However, their aim was not to kill, but to capture and question. The three Werewolves, and two of the Vampyres,died in the struggle that ensued before Maia and Blaid had the camp secured.
The General glared at them as they strung him up from the tree, with his underlings trussed up beneath him.
“Do you understand us?” Blaid asked the General.
The big Vampyre spat in their direction. Blaid’s knife was at the Vampyre’s angled nose not a moment later.
“We are not here to play games,” Blaid hissed. “Either you speak to us, or we extract the information the unpleasant way.”
“Pah, nothing you can do to me, Prince of Darkness. I ‘ave stared evil in thee eye and lived.”
“Bold words, General. What makes you so brave?”
“Why you call me General, eh? I am Lord Dras, Overlord of the Drasden. Grildor is to be mine. It is promised.”
“What is he talking about?” Maia whispered.
“Ha ha, Princess of Light. So innocent. So pure. Bah! I cut your throat. Put silver bolts through heart. I …”
“Enough!” Blaid cut the General’s words off with a back-handed blow to the face. “It is obvious he has no intention of telling us anything we need to know,” Blaid sneered. “I tried it your way, Maia. Now, we are doing it my way.”
They had not expected the General to cooperate and discussed their tactic in detail beforehand. Blaid hoped to avoid using his Soul magic, but Maia knew they would not get the information they needed without it.
Knowing what to expect now, she shielded her mind and steeled her heart. The night grew darker around her as Blaid’s Soul magic enveloped them, its dark tendrils weaving their way into the very pores of the Vampyres before them.
Screaming and contorting in agony, Blaid let them suffer long enough to make them pliable before easing back, allowing them to recover enough so they could think once more. Defiantly, the General raised his head and looked at Blaid.
He should not have done so.
The moment their eyes locked, Blaid took control of the General’s mind, extracting every bit of information this Overlord of the Drasden possessed. It took all of Maia’s self-control to remain still and not to break Blaid’s concentration. So much of what they had assumed was true, yet so much they had not known at all.
Worst of all, Lord Dras was but a minor Lord of Naylera, uninformed of the ultimate plan of Lord Drakul, Purest of Pure, Eldest of the Ancient Line.
They hurried back to Shadow Hall, armed with the information they extracted from Lord Dras. Nayleran hierarchy was not only complicated, but also revealed a horror that choked them to the core.
The Ancients of Naylera, the direct descendants of the Drakulian line, ruled absolute. The supreme leader, King Drakul himself, was a tyrant, a dictator, a despot so evil, they now understood why Lord Dras had not feared them.
All Lords were descendants of this Drakulian line, as King Drakul only truste
d those of pure blood to lead. However, not all Generals - as the Elves called them - were Lords. Those of pure blood, but from other families, looked the same as the Lords, but did not hold their titles.
From the very first day the Vampyres set foot on Elveron, the Elves had noticed the differences between the Vampyres, but Maia and Blaid could have never imagined where these differences came from.
The tall, strong and refined Vampyres were those of pure blood; the Elder race of Naylera. The smaller - the scraggly foot soldiers - did not start out as Vampyres.
Naylera has been on decline for over a millennium. The Vampyres’ increasing thirst for blood decimated their limited animal population and they went from a once thriving, rich people into a steady decline that saw them starving and close to extinction.
King Drakul’s ruthless way of thinking eventually saw them on the rise again and he gradually built an empire out of the dust of a forgotten era.With more than half of the original population of Vampyres lost, King Drakul did not have an army to fight wars to win what he sought.
For years, in secret, he sent raiding parties to various planets, capturing Elves, Magradorians, Dwarves, Humans, and even Witches. Back on Naylera, he then turned them, creating his army of Vampyre underlings; grotesque replicas of the Overlords themselves.
Now, over two hundred years since he turned his first underling, Lord Drakul was finally ready, with an army of nearly one and a half million soldiers at his command. Maia shuddered at the thought of how many she had already killed and what they had been in their previous lives.
“No, Father, Lord Dras did not know the final time frame of the attack. His mission was to assist in the capturing of Shadow Hall and, if possible, to kill me and Blaid.”
“They are more advanced than we thought. For two years they have been sending through their rabble to weaken us, holding back their main forces and equipment. Their sheer numbers could crush us, but with the weapons they have amassed over the years from the different planets, we hardly stand a chance.” Jagaer looked up and waved Aaron forward. “Aaron, what is this taser they speak of?”
“My Lord, if I remember correctly, it harnesses energy similar to that of a lightning bolt, rendering you unconscious if you are touched by it.”
“A devious weapon, indeed. I fear we are ill-prepared for this fight. If only there was a way we could bring the rest of the armies to Grildor, maybe we stood a chance.”
“Father, Midnight may have a solution for you,” Maia said, then fell silent as she listened to Midnight’s plan.
The people within her father’s chamber - Commanders, Elders, Masters, Siana, the Humans, and even her mother - waited impatiently for Maia to speak again. Blaid stood beside her, included in the silent discussion between her and Midnight.
“Very well,” Maia finally murmured. Louder, she said, “Midnight says he can convince the wild dragons to let warriors travel upon their backs for the duration of a short trip. They are willing to do so several times until all two-legs have been brought to the stones. If we enlist the help of half of Thala Yll’s Battle Dragons as well, Midnight says we should be able to have all armies, including Lord Elderbow’s army, in Grildor within a fortnight.”
“Would this be possible?” someone asked.
“What about the horses?” another asked.
“And the supplies?” yet another voiced his concern.
They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the details of such an enterprise, but in the end they had no other choice. The pure blood Vampyres cared not about seasons; they would attack when ready, even in the middle of winter.
Jagaer gave the orders and the dragons moved out at first light after receiving their orders from Midnight. Four Commanders from Thala Yll took one hundred dragons each. One flew north, two flew east, and the other flew west. Siana took ten of her men, plus one hundred wild dragons to fetch her father. The rest of her men she divided to fly in two equal groups with the wild dragons to cover the south.
A fortnight. Maia hoped they had that much time. She watched the dragons fly off; taking with them the hopes of Shadow Hall, but even as she watched, a sensation of unease settled on her.
Blaid stood next to her, narrowed eyes raised to the sky, frowning.
Magic! Midnight warned.
By that evening, a large storm formation had settle over Grildor, growing in size by the hour. The people of Shadow Hall, accustomed to such weather this time of the year, withdrew to their homes with their families. However, this storm was not what it appeared.
“The magic used for the Finding of Souls is old magic. The magic the Vampyres used to break the stones of Greystone is old magic,” Silas explained to Jagaer and everyone assembled in the common room that evening after Maia had spoken to him about how she felt. “This storm, it contains traces of old magic as well.”
“Are you saying the Vampyres are creating this storm?” Jaik asked, disbelieving.
“No, they are using it. I believe they have been waiting for a large front to come this way so they might use it as cover. I can only speculate, but I think the old magic keeps it in place.”
“I may not have a lot of experience yet,” Aaron added, “but the storm would be a good way to weaken us. The armies around Greystone are camped and rested. I would want to weaken them before I face them in battle.”
Maia forced herself not to stare. She hardly recognised Aaron. He retained enough of his humanness to look exotic, especially with the stubble of facial hair, but had changed enough to look like an Elf. However, his confidence, quiet calm, inner strength, and total acceptance of himself now set him apart from the man he used to be.
His colour now the same as his smell. Sun-warmed rock. Ochre. Strong and steady. A new name he shall need.
Maia pushed Midnight’s thought away. She wished she had the time to think about how they had all changed - Luke, Jasmin, Aaron, even her own family - but unless she paid attention, none of them would be alive to ever talk to again.
“I think Aaron is right,” Blaid said, sitting to her left. “This does not feel like concealment. It smells of violence. We should brace ourselves for the storm of the century, or worse. This was sent to weaken us.” Midnight, you better warn those dragons.
“Aaron, how far are you with the rest of your war machines?” Jaik asked.
“There are two Sky Busses already at the ten mile marker where the armies are camped,” Aaron replied. “Three more will be ready within two day days.”
“And the tanks?”
“All five should be ready in another three to four days, Jaik.”
Jaik nodded and Maia knew her brother was making the calculations in his head. He had stationed all their armies within a ten mile radius around Greystone. Close enough to reach the stones quickly, but far away enough to avoid a surprise attack by Vampyres coming through the Gate.
They had erected semi-solid structures along this line to serve as housing for the armies during their stay. These structures could be converted into catapults, and other war machines, within moments. Aaron’s designs, too. The Sky Busses, besides being mobile and able to transport a full set of Regiments, also served as housing during the nights, and shelter during storms. Five Sky Busses could house over one thousand people.
The tanks, even more complicated than the Sky Busses, although not as large, could also shelter another fifty people each. All in all, once all their equipment reached the ten mile marker, those armies already present would weather the storm without ill-effects.
Maia watched the discussion for a while longer, no longer hearing their words, feeling as if she was a million miles away. Helpless to do anything but watch Grildor move their armies into position for slaughter, Maia wondered what she had been given her powers for. Her stomach heaved; bile rising to her throat. With this storm, none of the other armies stood a chance of reaching Grildor.
Blaid gently took her hand - it tingled where he touched her - and when she looked up at him, he gestured towards
the door with his head.
No one noticed them leave. Even her father was too absorbed in the discussion to worry about sending a chaperon after them.
“Do you feel it, too? The inevitability?” Blaid asked as they entered the warm silence of the stable.
Fire snorted as Maia stepped up to him and leaned her head against his neck.
“What use is our power if we cannot use it? We cannot sit here and do nothing. Why must we wait for the Vampyres to attack? They will kill thousands of our people within the first few moments.”
“I know, Maia, but we cannot go to Naylera. The last time a peace treaty was negotiated, there were twenty-two of us and they did not go just as an army was gathering for an attack. You and I alone do not stand a chance against all the Vampyres of Naylera. Not even together do we have that much power.”
Absently, Maia rubbed her hands over Fire’s red coat. He gleamed in the light from the lanterns and only the deep scar on his hind leg detracted from his perfection. Channelling some energy, Maia let it flow towards the scar as she spoke.
“Everyone is preparing. We are their Primes. We cannot simply wait. Already, the magic within the storm is stronger now than it was earlier. I can feel it. I say we go to Greystone, for that is where the magic must originate from. We can keep the magic subdued and the storm at a minimum to give the dragons a chance to bring the armies to us.”
Blaid laughed. “Aye, Princess of Light, and now that you have healed your horse, please dull the glow, or I may go blind.”
Startled, Maia let go of the energy and the silver glow around her slowly faded. Fire nickered softly and he stamped his foot, as if to prove he had his full strength back. Maia stared at his hind leg; his coat so smooth, she could not tell there had been an injury before.
Midnight ploughed through the wind; ice particles stung their faces with the speed of his flight. They stopped over at the ten mile marker to relay messages, before carrying on to Greystone.