Tyus bit his lip as he began quivering. Was this how all of the magi felt just before they perished? No one should have to face a fate like this. Nobody. To know your death was coming at any second, and that you can’t stop it, but that you can see it coming…
It made Tyus sick. It didn’t help to know she’d done this to a few others already. Or that I’ve done it.
If he was going to die, though, he couldn’t die without making his intentions clear. Without forsaking his sociopathic father and his bloodline and all that it stood for.
“Kara!” he said, his voice shaky and tears beginning to form in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. Forgive me. I did not know. I didn’t know! I’m sorry for my family. For the empire. We’ve done terrible things. I swear to you I didn’t plan this. My father, he… I…”
Kara paused and squatted in front of Tyus. She had a look in her eyes that Tyus had seen in only one other person before.
Artemia, the leader of the Dragon Hunter’s Guild.
It was the face of evil, devoid of emotion, pleasant enough on the outside, but one that would someday spell profound danger and trouble for those who surrounded her. And right now, that evil looked hungry for a savage, fatal strike.
“Your ancestors have chased us for centuries, Tyus,” she said, her voice so cold it could’ve frozen him in place more effectively than her magic spells. “Ever since I was a little girl, with my dear husband, I’ve been on the run from your family. Your family has captured me, tried to have me, kill me, hunt me down; they’ve done the same for my husband. If you had known who I truly am or who Gaius is, you would never have gone for the theatrics that you have.”
She fiddled with the knife in her hand, twisting it. She gave a throaty laugh as blood dripped from the tip of the blade. Just end it. Please. Please!
“But there is good news in all of this. You are the last in line of the Syrast Empire. Your father still lives, so my job is not done tonight. But for future generations of magi, I know that they will live in peace.”
Her gaze was unrelenting. It was both disturbing and something Tyus could not pull away from.
“I will not make the mistake I made with your ancestors when I had all the chances. I will not stand to the side and advocate for peace as I did when I first left Mathos. I will not be the peace keeper that I tried to be for so many decades, even centuries.”
Centuries?
Kara seemed to deliberately let the words sink in, choosing to continue to twiddle the knife in her hand. Centuries. Wait… no. They died, though? But she’s a magi…
Suddenly, the lessons he had learned, the tales he recalled, all came rushing back to his mind. It seemed so just that in his last moments, the last in line of the Syrast Empire would know the truth of the magi.
“Tetra? Garo?”
A haughty laugh came from Kara—or Tetra. It also carried some heavy sadness to it.
“I see the Syrast family has some brain cells when they are not indulging in war, alcohol, and women,” she snorted. “I have given you the truth of my identity, Tyus. At least you understand my pain now and apologize for what you’ve done. I suppose the sooner I get rid of you, the better.”
In one swift motion, before Tyus could utter any last words, Tetra grabbed the blade by its handle. She lifted it over her shoulder, and Tyus closed his eyes.
But instead of striking him with the blade, her ice spell froze him even further. Instead of just freezing him in place, it froze his blood from within. It froze his muscles. Soon, he knew, it would freeze even his heart and his mind. And when that happened, he would die.
He did everything he could to fight the impending end. He shook. His muscles spasmed, the ones that hadn’t felt the effects of the spell. He begged for a quicker end, but Kara—Tetra—just smiled maliciously at him.
“Poor fool, I almost feel bad,” Tetra said. “Oh wait, no, I don’t. You should consider yourself fortunate, Tyus. I chose not to torture you because I know what you are. A puppet. A tool of the empire. You are spared a prolonged death. You cannot torture a puppet, only the puppeteer. And now, I will pursue your father. Goodbye, Tyus. I would say may Chrystos have mercy on your soul, but you have had none on my family. So in the name of Iblis, I condemn you and your family now and forever.”
Tyus’ vision began to fade. So did his hearing. So did his cohesive thoughts. He saw the outline of Tetra leave, but not before she spat on him. The ice surrounded his heart, and he felt terrifyingly cold. Fatally cold.
As he lay dying in the streets, the last thing he saw was the night sky, then a sudden flash of something. A figure of some sort, he could not figure out. It was a large figure, with hazy eyes, thick muscles, and dark blue fur, but then it disappeared.
Tyus’ last thought consisted of his father. In it, his father smiled at him. Gone was the sadistic, cruel man. He wasn’t even the emperor. He was just a father proud of his son.
The ice reached beyond his neck, and Tyus knew this was the end.
In his last moment alive, he prayed that his father would remember him better than he treated him.
CHAPTER 18: ZELDA
“No!”
Before Zelda could say a word, Tyus had run toward the laughing voices of the imperial guards. She reached for his arm, but he had long run away. He was genuine.
And now his own soldiers have turned on him.
More screams erupted. The high-pitched shrieks of mothers, the crying of children, the last gasps of men. Chaotic cries emerged from elsewhere in town as Dabira erupted into chaos and madness. Zelda screamed at what she saw, tired of the horror.
Get Yeva. Get Garo. Get Tetra. Fight these soldiers. Now.
She bit her lip, found her magical energy from within, and charged into town, searching for Maria’s home as her internal magic powered her feet forward. She ignored the burning buildings and the dying words as best as she could, knowing the only hope this town had of standing lay in the hands of the four magi who had come most recently.
She came to Maria’s home and saw half of it burning, the other half seconds away from becoming engulfed in flames. Zelda grimaced, hesitated, and then ran inside. The smoke was suffocating and she coughed. The blackness of it all burned her eyes, and the heat ignited her skin to uncomfortable levels.
“Yeva!” she yelled. “Garo! Tetra!”
She got no reply. She looked to the stairs, where flames danced.
“Yeva! Garo! Tetra!”
She wanted to run up so badly. She had to rescue her friends and closest allies. They couldn’t die. Not after surviving Indica and centuries of fighting.
But then a portion of the ceiling collapsed and Zelda screamed.
“Yeva!”
She collapsed to her knees.
“Garo! Tetra…”
It was too late. The empire had killed them. They would suffocate on the smoke or burn, a merciless death Zelda wouldn’t even wish upon the emperor.
Until now. Now the empire had succeeded in one regard. It had broken her. It had broken her loyalty to Mama’s wishes to use her magic for good.
The empire was about to find out what happened when Zelda used her magic for revenge. It would—
Someone came jumping down the stairs, rolling on the ground.
“Yeva!”
“Zelda!” Yeva said in between coughing. “What in the name of Chrystos is going on?!?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know, I was with Tyus… where are Tetra and Garo?!?”
“Not here,” Yeva said. “I kicked open their door, they aren’t—”
Another portion of the ceiling collapsed. Without a word, Zelda grabbed Yeva by the robes and the two girls hurried out of the house, jumping out just as the foundation completely gave out and it all collapsed. On all fours, Zelda looked at the horror before her.
Imperial soldiers, their armor soaked in blood, laughed as they destroyed statues, houses, and lives at every block. Some of the magi had gathered their weapons and fought b
ack, but the skill, coordination, and organization of the empire left Dabira in tatters. The town too peaceful for its own good now faced its judgment day as the empire hunted all of the magi down. They’ll kill us all.
Mama, I’m sorry. But I can’t use my magic just for good any longer. I have to use evil to fight evil.
“I found them!”
The two girls looked up to see a burly man looking down over them. The man had a bushy black beard, a bloody sword, a thick iron shield bearing the imperial crest, and dark brown eyes. Zelda had seen this spot many times before in Caia, and every single time, she’d not done anything damaging, always giving a second chance.
“You two have a date with the empire, and—”
But Zelda had reached her breaking point. Those second chances had vanished. She would not grant a third, fourth, or any chance more. The empire had shattered her illusions, much as they had shattered Tetra’s hopes. The naive little girl who had lived off of hope had lost what innocence she had. If it’s genocide you want, you will have it.
In place of the hopeful young homeless girl from Caia, a fiery mage in Dabira, the successor to Tetra, the one who would bring about the end of the empire, had risen.
Zelda launched an explosive fire spell at the guard with her right hand before he could put his shield up, and the guard burned on the spot. Even his sword and shield melted in the face of the extreme inferno Zelda produced. Good riddance.
“We have to get out of here!” Yeva said. “They’re slaughtering everyone!”
Zelda broke out of her enraged stupor. Yes, she would have to kill more guards, but of far greater importance was rescuing the magi than ending lives. Escape wasn’t an option, not until they had accomplished what they needed to do.
“But the citizens! Everyone here—”
Screams came from the distance. Screams came from just a block down. Laughter, too, filled their ears like a disjointed symphony. Zelda looked to Yeva. If they were going to rescue any of the mages in danger, she had to make the first move. The chaos had crippled Yeva.
I spoke to Tyus. I will fight his men. I’ll save this place. I can do it.
Zelda sprinted ahead, gasping for breath. She looked right to an open street and saw a guard towering over a young boy. Without thinking, she unleashed a ferocious lightning spell on the soldier, who collapsed to the ground. She could always gather up the survivors later. But any remaining hostiles had to meet their end. She stared down the man, making sure he did not rise. Sparks shot out of his body. He did not move.
This is worse than Indica. This is so much worse. There’s no common enemy. Just the enemy.
Zelda continued ahead, knowing the most intense screams had not come from this street. She could not say from where they’d come from, other than that she’d know it when she saw it.
En route to the middle of town, she saw Tetra walking, her eyes haunted, her steps deliberate, her movement frightening.
“Tetra!” Zelda shouted.
It was of great relief to see that the leader of the Shadows of the Empire had survived. Perhaps the world only needed one cold-blooded magi bent on destroying the empire, a role Zelda would happily acquiesce to Tetra.
But the wife of Garo, the leader of the Shadows of the Empire, the most dangerous mage Zelda knew, did not respond. Her eyes focused only on the path ahead of her, her hair covered her ears, and her feet moved without regard for anyone standing in her way. She looked like a dragon which had found its prey.
“Tetra!” Zelda yelled.
Again, she was ignored.
Zelda tore herself away, but noticed she had lost Yeva.
“Yeva!” she cried.
She looked around, beginning to feel panicked.
“Yeva!!”
She screamed her friend’s name several more times, but she was alone in the streets. Alone, at least, among the living.
But in terms of bodies, she had far too much company.
There was no one else alive. The faces of magi whom she’d befriended over the previous weeks littered the ground. Dead bodies everywhere.
The counselors. Roland. Maria. Old women. Young men and women.
Children. Mara’s children.
They all lay over pools of blood, in some cases fresh, dark red streams pouring out of open wounds in their chests.
Oh, no. No. No!
The sight of children younger than her, lying face down in the streets, is what pushed Zelda back to the brink of insanity. She’d evaded death so much in her mere fourteen years in Hydor. These children had probably never seen serious violence before this day, and now they had lost their lives because of being a mage.
Why. Why? Why?!?!?!?
Rufus Syrast. You will pay for this. You thought Tetra would bring you harm?
And Garo. What had become of him? If Tetra had shown up without him and in such rage that she didn’t even acknowledge Zelda…
She looked behind her and saw three guards laughing. Then they saw her, laughed harder, and raised their swords.
Zelda’s eyes coldly narrowed. She didn’t see men. She saw demons. She saw monsters. She saw evil far worse than dragons. She saw death coming to someone, and it wasn’t going to be her.
She raised her hand as the soldiers advanced. She sought a rage much like Indica felt when they invaded its home. Her rage went beyond that, however. It channeled the fury she had at the emperor, the grief she had for her friends, and the sorrow she felt in her life.
What emerged looked less like magic and more like swords of ice, firing as if out of a catapult at the three soldiers. The ice swords did not just pierce the soldiers—it went right through their shields, their armor, and their hearts. When it finished, gaping holes on each soldier appeared. They collapsed without a word.
This is what you’ve brought to us, Rufus. Do you see what you’ve done? Do you see what you’ve turned me into?
She heard the sharp cry of an older man a few streets over. Garo?
She didn’t want to acknowledge who had made such a noise, but she had a sickening feeling she knew. She closed her eyes to gather the energy to protect the closest thing she had to a father, doing her best not to let her emotions paralyze her, and sprinted in the direction of the noise.
She came to the center of the town, in front of the statues of Garo and the three dragons melting. Where the elders had once sat in a circle, Garo had dropped to one knee. Three soldiers surrounded him, their swords drawn, laughing as they stared down the weakened mage. He had a bloodied, fire-enhanced sword in one hand, but he also had numerous wounds all over his body. Zelda didn’t dare think about the significance of the wounds.
“Pathetic old man, the last of his kind,” one of the guards said. “Do you think we should capture him for the emperor?”
“Him? He’s but a bloody waste of space!” another guard said, laughing. “There’s nothing this man offers. I say kill him!”
“Don’t, not yet,” the first guard said as the third guard raised his sword. “I saw him near the woman, the leader of the Shadows. I say bring her here and kill the weaker one first. Let them watch as they die. It’ll make it more fun.”
No!
“No!”
Zelda could not help the scream that came from her throat. The three guards turned to her. They looked at each other, confused, their eyebrows scrunched and their mouths contorted.
And then they burst out laughing.
“Aww, if it isn’t a little princess come to save the fallen king,” the first guard said. “Jon! Watch the old man. Make sure he doesn’t try anything.”
Zelda stood her ground as the soldier advanced. He had his sword out of his sheath, but he did not raise it. He held a shield up, one that looked far thicker than the one the other guards had. Zelda cast one blaze of fire at the guard, but the shield… it absorbed the attack?
What was going on? Perhaps fatigue and diminished magic had caught up to Zelda. But she knew what she’d seen, and the shield had definitely absorbed
the magic Zelda had cast.
“And what do we have here, little girl? Why…”
It dawned on him who she was and why the empire had likely ordered him to bring her back. Zelda knew she would sooner die than surrender for a long boat ride and meeting with the emperor.
“Let’s make one thing clear, witch. We’re here because we’re taking you back to the emperor for a proper execution. We’ve got him, we’ve got the other girl, and we’ve got Kara.”
No… no, that’s impossible. You just said—
“Let’s make this easy. You come with us, the four of you die together and it is quick and merciful. You fight back, we’ll keep you alive long enough to watch them die a slow, torturous death. Make your decision in five… four…”
“No!”
“No? Is that the only word that you are capable of uttering right now? Is the intellect of the magi so weak that they can only speak one word under duress? No. No! No! Hahaha!”
Zelda hated being talked down to. She hated the condescending attitude. She hated feeling like a marginalized soul in Hydor. She hated feeling oppressed just because she could cast magic.
But more than that, she hated how she seemingly had no retort for what the guard was saying. She didn’t have anything she could say besides no. Her words failed her as her anger consumed her.
“No!”
The guard just laughed and mocked her, repeating “no” in a high pitch voice.
“I thought so. Don’t make me finish. Three… two…”
Zelda scowled. She needed so badly more energy, more power to cast her magic. But the shock of seeing Garo felled, the fear of having lost Yeva, and the magnitude of the deaths around her prevented her from striking.
But she would not go. She quickly raised her hand and cast the strongest fire spell she could muster.
But the guard reacted too quickly. And when he had, his shield, though damaged, absorbed the brunt of the attack.
“Wrong answer,” the guard said.
Then he slapped her so hard it dropped her to the ground. She felt like Indica had rammed into her cheek. Her vision blurred. Her senses struggled to reorient themselves.
Demons of the Hunter (War of the Magi Book 2) Page 30