The distortion faded. Ka΄Phar’s unwavering gaze stayed trained on the spot where she expected the mystic to appear. She stood rigid with outstretched hands. Rapid frost melt created thick steam that made it difficult for her to ascertain the exact whereabouts of her target. Ka΄Phar peered into the blanket of fog, looking for movement. “Show yourself,” she demanded. Blaring green light penetrated the mist, followed by two pulsating ovals. “You,” Ka΄Phar grumbled. “How is this possible?”
The ancient one remained stooped in her defensive posture with her testalar pointed at Ka΄Phar. “I wish not to fight,” she conveyed in her usual silky voice. Her hair was a blend of silver and black, and deep wrinkles had formed around her eyes and across her forehead. Once smooth and vibrant skin had turned dull and coarse. “Ka΄Phar,” she pleaded, “you will want to hear what I have to say.”
Confident there was no immediate threat, Ka΄Phar returned her attention to the Emory Tree. She scampered over to retrieve the coruscant. The flames had subsided to a steady burn. She observed the void, but it was empty. Elinor was gone. Ka΄Phar poked around a pile of ashes. The smoking remains of Elinor’s satchel were hurled behind her. She continued spreading the pile, but came up empty-handed. With her frustration growing, Ka΄Phar hurried over to inspect Elinor’s satchel.
“Where is it?” she demanded to know.
“The coruscant is gone. As too is the light-bearer.”
Ka΄Phar fumed. “Lies.” She raised her arms. “I’ve had enough of your deceit. I will deal with you, then go for your beloved collective. You will die knowing legatius will go the way of light-bearers.”
“You will do no such thing.”
“Oh really? You have that much faith in your intuition?” Ka΄Phar sneered. “You really have lost your touch.”
“Your daughter is alive,” blurted the ancient one in an attempt to forgo a fight she had no interest in. “I have seen her.”
In a look of confusion that bordered on rage, Ka΄Phar withheld her attack. She glowered at the ancient one. Doubt lingered in her glassy eyes. Her expression became as harsh as the mountains that surrounded the basin where the Emory Tree grew. “Careful, light raven. If you dishonor my daughter again, your death will be a painful one.”
“I speak the truth. Shadow lives. How else do you explain what you have witnessed here?” The ancient one’s testalar went silent as she too disengaged. “Beneath us there is a barren place,” she explained, “where light is forbidden. Only emptiness and profound sadness exist. This is where your daughter resides. She is in pain, Ka΄Phar. Her wounds run deep.” The ancient one stood before Ka΄Phar. She could tell by the emptiness in her eyes that the mystic was struggling with the truth. “Have you ever known one of my kind to lie before? What would be the point?”
It was true that lying was against the nature of ancient ones. Ka΄Phar had never known them to be dishonest. Secretive, unreliable, and downright flaky, yes, but never liars. She pondered the ancient one’s words. If she was stalling for time, what was her objective? Ka΄Phar herself had witnessed the light-bearer’s death. There was no coming back from the Emory Tree’s embrace. That was the whole point. And then there was Aysgarth’s presence. She was certain it was him she had seen; the one person she despised above all. Ka΄Phar held Aysgarth responsible for her daughter’s death more than any other. If not for his infatuation with Shadow and his corruption of her innocent mind, she would have never become involved with Lancians, which eventually led to her destruction by weak-minded fools. Lancian attempts at nation building and politicking ad nauseam had always been difficult for her to stomach. Ka΄Phar had been pleased with herself for wiping them out first.
“How is Aysgarth alive?” asked Ka΄Phar. “Is he the one responsible for the light-bearer’s death?”
Ka΄Phar’s questions gave the ancient one a glimmer of hope. Her attempt to reason with the mystic seemed to be working. She closed the distance between them. “It seems her love for this Lancian knows no bounds. As if giving her heart to him was not enough, your daughter saw to it he would be protected as well.” The ancient one paused. “Your latter question I am afraid, this you must ask your daughter. It is not for me to explain a daughter’s will to her mother.”
Extremely troubled by these new revelations, Ka΄Phar returned her attention to the Emory Tree. She paced in front of it while fiddling with a silver ring she wore on her left hand. Her bronzed complexion shone brightly. Not even she fully understood the numinous forces that permitted the Emory Tree to exact a definitive death. Yet somehow her daughter had managed to survive. Ka΄Phar crouched and stared into the void. Her gaze drifted to the moist ground where the shards that had exploded from the Emory Tree were reacting to her stolen afterglow. When she picked up a fragment to study it, Ka΄Phar felt her energy flowing into it. “Sun crystals,” she muttered. “My sister’s handiwork no doubt.” Her eyes gleamed with enthusiasm in realization of what the child had done. “Oh, you smart little girl.”
Curious, “What have you found?” asked the ancient one.
“Somehow my runt of a sister managed to connect the Emory Tree with sun crystals.”
“Which means the tree is no longer able to function as it once had.”
“Precisely,” answered Ka΄Phar and then couldn’t prevent herself from laughing. “She changed the rules.” Ka΄Phar tossed the fragment into the void. “We’re not so different after all, are we?” she proclaimed to her dead sister. It was then she realized the answer to her own question that Aysgarth had likely killed Elinor. “The light-bearer is returning her heart. A backup plan,” she continued. Ka΄Phar sprang to her feet. “It wasn’t for love that my daughter gave her heart to Aysgarth. She must have known she would be murdered. Without her heart, she could not die a complete death. As long as a piece of her still existed, she knew I would be able to bring her back. My loving daughter has put her faith in me this entire time.” Ka΄Phar was giddy.
“I believe you are mistaken,” replied the ancient one. “Shadow turned her heart into a coruscant to bring Lord Aysgarth and the light-bearer together. It was intended to be used as a weapon against you, not as some prize for you to hunt down and possess. She foresaw the devastation you would enact. It was not faith she placed in you. Her actions were meant to impede you.” By how Ka΄Phar bristled at her comment, for once the ancient one grasped the importance of timing and that occasionally it was better to say nothing than shed light on the truth. Her mistake was realized too late.
Ka΄Phar landed a decisive blow to the ancient one’s chest, propelling her away from the tree. She struck the ground hard. The blow was followed by a ball of fire that ignited her robing. Ka΄Phar maneuvered her hands in a twirling motion. A whirlwind dropped from the sky over the ancient one and sucked her in. “My daughter loves me,” howled Ka΄Phar as she watched the ancient one spiral up like a flare being sucked into the sun. “All anyone has ever done is to try to turn her against me. Legatius, Lancians, even my own sister.” Lightning bolts struck the whirlwind. “Two down, one to go,” she proclaimed in reference to the ancient one and her sister, with Aysgarth as the lone survivor.
The funnel dissipated back into the clouds and stillness returned. Enraged by what she interpreted as a sinister plot hatched by her sister to keep Shadow hidden from her, and one that the ancient one and Aysgarth were part of, Ka΄Phar was consumed by vengeance once more. She forgot about the Emory Tree and Elinor. Even her obsession with obtaining the coruscant had vanished. And Shadow had become but a minuscule thought spinning around her infuriated mind. Killing Aysgarth was all she could focus on.
Storm clouds gathered and hazy mist seeped from the ground. With her head held high, Ka΄Phar confidently strolled up the sloping terrain, out of the basin, and away from the Emory Tree. Her raven-colored hair shimmered under flashes of lightning. The lines of her skinart turned pearly white and radiated. Then Ka΄Phar vanished into the mist, with only one destination in mind.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
/> Raven Rock. Where it had all begun. The land was as much a part of Aysgarth as his own flesh and blood. From snowcapped peaks to pink sand beaches, from arid deserts to waterlogged bogs, the island had an uncanny ability to speak to him. He never heard words exactly, more like lyrics that were carried aloft in warm southerly breezes or contained in the cadence of a bird’s fluttering wings. When Aysgarth was forced to travel abroad, which was often the case for a leader of his stature, he felt empty inside. Every battle won or conflict averted was a reason to celebrate, but while his fleet regaled in their triumphs, Aysgarth longed to be home. Raven Rock had a way of restoring his sense of purpose. Until Shadow had come along, the island had been his only source of inspiration. Like a muse waiting with open arms, the moment he stepped off the gangplank onto dry land it wrapped its personified force around him, and he was once more renewed.
It was that same sense of purpose that drove him to obey Shadow’s instructions to kill Elinor. Try as he may to convince her otherwise, Shadow insisted it would be the only way to restore balance to a dying Kalloire. She never elaborated on the how, but he loved her with his entire being and therefore trusted her implicitly. He spent what felt like an eternity contemplating whether he would have the courage to take the last light-bearer’s life when the time came. Aysgarth was a killer, not a murderer. But when Elinor had freed him precisely as Shadow had told him she would, he knew in his heart that he would follow through with his promise.
Standing atop the keep, looking out over the valley surrounding his citadel, Elinor’s death along with the other ghosts from his past weighed heavily on Aysgarth. He had but one chance to make amends. Regardless of the personal cost, he had every intention of completing his mission. Shadow had foretold of a great war that would end with the destruction of all tribes, followed by a period of profound darkness. It was this darkness she spoke of with such sadness that would eventually usher in a new age. But in order for light to return, Aysgarth had to do precisely as she directed. He was the one used to giving orders, but like a dutiful warrior, he had agreed to play his part without further question.
Aysgarth reached down and cast aside the bubble top of a ribbed trunk that had seen better days. Metal trimming separated from decaying wood when the lid struck the ground. He proceeded to attach a halyard to grommets and then struck a nearby lever with his foot. A heavy counterweight dropped from the keep’s lookout tower. A sizeable black-and-gold standard rose from the trunk.
He sprinted for the battlement surrounding the keep and leapt onto the thick fortification. He hovered along the edge, howling and thumping his chest. Screams echoed through the citadel and across the valley. He snatched a helmet that had been left behind during Raven Rock’s last battle and flung it down a flight of stairs; he clanked his sword against remnants of a broken shield. Having fully unfurled the banner, Aysgarth turned to admire his family’s standard that was billowing in a steady offshore breeze. Perhaps for the last time, he thought, the standard of House Aysgarth soared to signal a final call to arms.
Aysgarth positioned himself in a corner with his back against the wall. It was a flawed location that from the outset was difficult to defend and offered little protection, but under the circumstances it was his best option at making an effective stand. Aysgarth thumped his chest plate several times and then began to recite his oath.
“In the darkest of days and the longest of nights, we will hold the line.” He thumped his chest again. “When our arms are heavy and our legs grow weary, we will hold the line. With compassionate hearts and steely blades, we will hold the line.” Aurora-hunter squeaks and clicks got closer. “In Evil’s fury and under Death’s wrath, we will hold the line.” Aysgarth shrieked at the top of his lungs to draw attention to himself. “When our enemies call and our warriors fall, we will hold the line. With light from our soul and blood in our veins, we will hold the line.” He twice struck his chest and then readied his sword. “They will crush, they will drown, they will burn in our wake. For we are ravens of the rock, wolves of the sea. There will be no surrender, nor compromise, nor retreat. We stand as one, for we are mighty, for we are the fleet.”
Through open doors and over walls aurora-hunters scrambled into the keep. They poured in from every opening big enough for them to squeeze through. Aysgarth gritted his teeth. He shuffled his feet as the horde swarmed around him.
“Hausōs, my harbinger of death,” he said to his sword, “I need you now more than ever. Together, we shall send a message to the Blood Queen she will not soon forget.” Aysgarth loosened his grip and twirled his sword. He scrutinized dozens of aurora-hunters closing in, looking for a weakness in their tactics. “So,” Aysgarth declared, “this is what it has come to. What a pity you will all die today. You should have brought more!” he screamed. Aysgarth lowered his head and narrowed his eyes. He slowed his breathing. For him to survive an onslaught of such superior numbers, it was imperative for him to conserve his strength while maintaining his confidence. The slightest inkling of doubt could be fatal by ending the battle prematurely. Aysgarth smiled as the first aurora-hunter came into range of his blade and then he softly whispered, “Let us begin.”
He lunged with such ferocity that the first one to fall never had time to defend itself. Its gurgling cries momentarily gave pause to the others. “Is that all you got?” screamed Aysgarth. When he realized just how outnumbered he was by the horde’s screeching response, he emitted a brisk snort. “Shadow,” he said to himself, “my faith in you is beyond reproach. I will be your knight. And you shall be my dawn. I will hold the line for as long as possible.” Aysgarth gazed out over the battlements as storm clouds formed above the mountains. He smiled in recognition that the Blood Queen was approaching. “The back door is open,” he declared proudly. And with the final aspect of Shadow’s strategy in place, Aysgarth jammed the tip of his blade against the ground.
Aurora-hunters cowered at the blaring sound that emanated from Hausōs. They momentarily retreated from the crippling noise. Aysgarth moved forward, taking advantage of the horde’s uncertainty. He plunged his blade into another aurora-hunter that had unwisely tried to impede his progress. Two more fell before the horde regained their composure. They regrouped and began to encircle Aysgarth again. He quickly fell back.
A swirling vortex appeared over the citadel, accompanied by concentrated bands of lightning. Steady gusts gave way to potent gales. The presence of their queen restored the horde’s confidence. They crept forward. A disembodied voice thundered from above.
“Little Raven…have you come to play again…?” Ka΄Phar’s impish cackle rumbled across Raven Rock. A searing streak lit up the sky, striking the flagpole. The sea wolf standard quickly became engulfed in flames. Ka΄Phar laughed again, but this time she was standing across from Aysgarth on the far side of the keep. She acknowledged him with an arrogant smile and then mocked his own words. “Yes,” she announced. “Let us begin.”
With a brisk shout from Aysgarth, Hausōs beamed brightly. His attentive eyes moved from the Blood Queen to the horde and then back again. He was surrounded by imposing forces with no escape. But Aysgarth had no intention of running. He had been waiting far too long for another opportunity to face those responsible for Raven Rock’s downfall. As he stood against impossible odds, Aysgarth readied himself for certain defeat. Knowing he would fall defending his home and the one person that gave his life meaning, Aysgarth was not afraid. He had been waiting his whole life for a defining moment worthy of his ancestry. And then he uttered the same words that he had said prior to entering stasis.
“Through the grace of Kalloire,” he proclaimed, “we will be together again.” Aysgarth spun his sword and then unleashed a horrific battle cry. He charged the aurora-hunter main line.
Aysgarth hastily halted his advance when a colorful burst sent streaks of arresting light outward from an aperture that had suddenly appeared above the citadel. Shimmering spheres materialized and plummeted like comets streaking across a darkened sk
y. They landed in the middle of the horde in an explosion that sent aurora-hunters airborne. Body fragments and purple slime coated the keep. Within the settling debris cloud, glaring green light spilled forth from pulsating testalars. A gently hum filled the air.
The Forgotten had arrived…
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