The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1)

by Brennan C. Adams

  Kheled hated to burst his bubble, but…

  “This isn’t a normal army, Raimie. It’s composed of Kiraak.”

  “Does that change any of the facts I’ve stated?” his friend asked. “We have to stand our ground.”

  “He’s correct, brother,” Ren said solemnly. “Fighting currently has the highest survival chance, but I’ll work for a better solution for you all. As soon as I’m finished with your assistant, I’ll return home. I’ll brave the wrath of Dury, and I will convince him that five thousand shouldn’t die because of his distaste for a single family.”

  Raimie bowed low to her.

  “I thank you with all my heart, Ren.”

  She flushed, mumbled something unintelligible, and retreated, flustered. Raimie only rose once she’d sprinted into the distance. His gaze lingered on her until she’d passed from sight.

  “You fancy her, don’t you?” Kheled asked gleefully.

  “What?! No!” Raimie exclaimed. “I was simply showing respect.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I don’t have time for this!” Raimie cried with exasperation, leaving Kheled behind in his haste to return to the lines of tents. “I must inform the men that we’re being forced to fight for our lives after existing in Auden for a single week.”

  Kheled was proud of his friend for facing the idea of certain death with such bravery even if he wasn’t surprised by his reaction. Raimie did everything bravely when he couldn’t think his way around it.

  “Are you coming or not, Khel? I’ll need you with me!”

  Ah, to be needed for something as simple as fact dispensing and moral support. Kheled would follow this human to the bitter end.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I yanked the last guard blocking me from the throne room off of my sword and scornfully studied the abomination’s body. Had it been one of those who’d murdered my family and plunged me into such dark and desperate acts?

  I gingerly stepped over the body, taking care not to soil myself with the human's filth, and paused at the door. Finally, after years of planning, slaughter, interrogations, and torture, I was about to achieve my goals. I threw open the heavy throne room door and stormed inside.

  The newly appointed emperor of a once peaceful collection of kingdoms sprawled on his black throne, one knee over the chair's arm, kicking gently to a beat no one else could hear. He casually plucked a grape from the bowl in his lap and munched on it, glancing curiously over at me.

  “Took you long enough,” he said.

  I held back my white-hot rage, knowing how utterly hopeless my situation would be if I gave in to it. I would need more discipline then I’d ever mustered in my life if I had any hope of defeating him.

  I casually reached for one of the throwing daggers hidden under my tunic and threw it straight at his head in a practiced fluid motion. He leaned to the side, allowing the knife to barely graze his scalp before it impaled itself into the throne behind him. Still munching on grapes, Doldimar placed the bowl on the ground before heaving himself to his feet and drawing his massive sword.

  “I've been waiting a long time for you,” he said, voice rambling up and down in pitch. “Why didn't you come sooner?”

  I readied myself for the sudden rush that I knew must be coming, prepared for the flurry of heavy blows to rain down on my blade. Instead, he flipped the sword back and forth through the air, walking to and fro in front of the throne.

  “Now,” he said in his singsongy voice, “we're even. We've both loved, we've both lost. We're on equal footing. I’ve no need to kill you. We can rule this empire I've built together!”

  He waved his hands at the empty room as though including others in his gesture.

  “All of my subjects have been eagerly awaiting your arrival!”

  I pressed down harder on my black kernel of rage, barely suppressing it from breaking loose. I advanced on Doldimar, sword held at the ready. He giggled at the look on my face and dropped his sword to clap with glee.

  “Yes, you like it!” he exclaimed. “It's my gift to you!”

  Seeing my chance, I sprinted at him, shifting my stance ever so barely at the last minute, to punch the tip of my blade through the chainmail protecting him and into his midsection. Panting, I pulled away, leaving the sword sticking straight through Doldimar in the same way I’d found Lirilith.

  He poked at the foreign object intruding into his anatomy and chuckled before crashing the floor. I almost walked away then, leaving him to die alone, but a murmur brought me back to his side.

  “He doesn't like the gift,” Doldimar whispered. “I knew it. That's fine. Next time he will. I won't make it so easy for him. It's... his fault... anyway.”

  His head fell to the side with a slap, and the sight of his still face filled me with satisfaction. I crouched beside his body and withdrew the letter from my breast. It had lain there a long time, waiting to be opened. I cracked the seal and read the words with trepidation.

  My friend-

  If you ever get this, please know that I never hated you. You weren’t to blame for any of the terrible events-

  I froze in place with surprise. Something fiery and furious boiled inside of me, breaking past my defenses. Pain wracked my frame, and fire engulfed me. I shrieked as the flames whisked away my life, and my body collapsed into ash.

  “What’s so urgent you had to break me away from my grandfather, Oswin?”

  “As I’ve said, sir, it wouldn’t be wise to say. I’d rather show.”

  Raimie sucked his teeth, mildly annoyed by the spy’s obstinacy. Resigned to the fact that Oswin would reveal no more, he contented himself with observing the troops as they went about their daily business. It was the first time he’d had a chance to wander amongst them since leaving Daira. Constantly on the run, he hadn’t fully appreciated how many people had come across the sea with him.

  Most everyone they passed stopped what they were doing and bowed their head respectfully when they took notice of him, which Raimie found unsettling. He liked avoiding people’s notice, living as a background player, but the last year had shoved him into the spotlight, and no matter what he did to scurry back into anonymity, his efforts always found a way to backfire.

  At least the troops seemed settled. Camp had been arranged in nice, orderly rows of tents with large empty spaces between for the men and women to build fires, consume their rations, and generally commune with one another.

  He’d seen no rowboats traversing the bay to the fleet so he gathered that supplies had been completely offloaded. They were prepared. Now if only he could figure out exactly how they were supposed to overthrow Doldimar.

  “Am I allowed to at least know where we’re going?” Raimie asked.

  “Some of the crew took it upon themselves to prepare a place for you to rest your head at night. Don’t worry,” Oswin added upon seeing Raimie’s disgruntled expression. “It’s nothing grandiose or over the top. They know well enough by now that you don’t like preferential treatment. It’s only a simple tent.”

  “We’re going there now?”

  “While you searched for Eledis, I inspected the place for anything that could impinge upon your safety and found quite the shock waiting for me. I had a different surprise in mind for you today, but I think you’re the only one who can deal with this one.”

  The line of tents bent to the right up ahead. Nearby, soldiers casually directed passersby onto different routes. He and Oswin passed them unmolested, and when they turned the corner, Raimie understood why the spy insisted that he come and see the problem for himself.

  Around the bend, the two lines of tents flanking him culminated in a large circle. With a fire pit in the midst of being dug and weapons discarded just outside of tents, it emanated a feeling of hominess absent in the perfectly disciplined air the rest of camp exuded.

  Raimie would’ve called it the perfect place to sleep if not for the misty white light billowing restlessly across the entirety of the encircled space’s gro
und. It rose up to mid shin, roiling like angry thunder clouds, and tendrils broke off the sneak past the confining circle.

  In the midst of all of this, Bright paced restlessly. His hands ripped at his hair, and he mumbled his monotonous chant like a prayer.

  “WhatamIwhatamIwhatamIwhatamI?”

  Dim…

  “Already here.”

  “What’s the problem?” Raimie asked.

  Oswin simply crossed his arms.

  He was right. That had been a foolish question. If Oswin couldn’t see the psychotic splinter drifting through white mist, he’d never have asked for Raimie’s help.

  “What makes you think there’s anything I can do about this?” Raimie asked him, waving a hand ambiguously at the mess.

  “Forgive me, sir, but do you think your troops are stupid? We’ve all heard the stories from the ragtag band of misfits you called an army at the beginning, and we’ve witnessed impossible feats that carry the substance of the stories of old. We can put two and two together, sir.”

  “What are you implying, Oswin?” Raimie asked grimly, hand inching to Silverblade.

  “I make no accusations, sir,” the spy calmly replied, facing palms to him nonthreateningly. “After all, it seemed obvious that you didn’t want any special powers you may or may not control announced to anyone who might be listening. Those of us who’ve noticed know how to hold secrets close to heart. We’d never wish to imply anything untoward without permission.”

  “Who knows?”

  “We don’t know anything as I’ve said,” Oswin blandly answered, seemingly oblivious to the danger he put himself in with this conversation. “I only brought you here because I thought you’d like to try your hand at a solution.”

  Raimie narrowed his eyes.

  “We need to have a long conversation later,” he told the spy.

  “I’m at your disposal.”

  Oswin bowed, his hand on his sword’s hilt. Raimie released a frustrated breath.

  “You can stay and watch or join your friends helping with interception. Your choice.”

  The misty light wasn’t affected by Raimie’s passage. It didn’t swirl away from him or fill the space he’d vacated, simply continued to eddy in billows and waves regardless of the physical being cutting through it.

  I’m taking suggestions now.

  “How am I supposed to know what to do?” Dim scoffed. “Bright shouldn’t exist anymore, making his current appearance a first for me.”

  Greeeaaat……

  Bright passed directly in front of Raimie. The white light was disturbed by his pacing, fleeing from him as he moved back and forth, and as he tugged roughly on his hair, additional clouds of mist jetted away from him.

  Can you hear me, buddy? Raimie asked.

  The splinter faltered for a millisecond before marching forward at a faster pace and muttering louder.

  “How about this? Is this better?” Raimie asked vocally.

  Bright halted mid-step. He went from halfway across the gathering space to directly in front of Raimie instantaneously. The splinter gripped his upper arms, and Raimie bit back a gasp when he actually felt sharp pressure.

  “I NEED you to TELL me what I AM!” Bright cried desperately, his gaze bordering on madness.

  Raimie laid a calming hand where the splinter’s shoulder should be.

  “You’re Bright,” he said, and the splinter mouthed along. “You’ve helped me on numerous occasions, saved my life more than once. You grant me access to Ele, and although you can be an enormous stick in the mud at times, you’re the voice of reason in our little trio.”

  Bright mouthed the word trio and frowned, mouthing it once more.

  “This is Dim,” Raimie motioned the Chaos splinter forward. “Inexplicably, you and he have set aside your difference, and I believe you were starting to make friends.

  “What?! Friend is a bit of a strong word…”

  No theatrics, Dim. He needs truth.

  The splinter swallowed and licked his lips.

  “Our human’s right. I need you back, you weakling. We had a plan, remember? Something our wholes don’t agree with-”

  “Raimie in the balance point,” Bright blurted before returning to mouthing the conversation from the beginning.

  Dim shot his human a sidelong glance, but Raimie was occupied with pressure building in his chest.

  “That’s right. I can’t do it alone. The human pulled you back somehow, but I think you need to take that final step yourself and quickly.”

  Raimie clutched at his chest. Being near Bright felt wrong, as if the splinter’s presence defied the laws of nature, but it also sat heavy on his heart, weighing it down like a stone. There was a dissonance in the music of the world, something a simple key change would fix.

  “I… am Bright,” the Order splinter pronounced falteringly. “I exist to assist Raimie, to fix the rapidly escalating imbalance in the war. I am Bright.”

  He released Raimie and stepped back, waiting expectantly.

  “Now what?” Raimie wheezed.

  “Hell if I know. I was taking a wild guess that he needed to accept his existence. I was hoping you’d contribute now.”

  Ele energy remained exactly where it billowed when he’d first approached the splinter. Visible even to norms like Oswin, it clearly existed above the veneer of reality the world normally pasted over it. Maybe it explained why Bright hadn’t completely reverted to himself.

  Hesitantly, he reached out for his source to Ele and found it all around him. No wonder his heart hurt so. His well of peace and tranquility had scattered from a single point within Bright to thousands of tiny spots within the circle of tents.

  “The source is broken,” he commented for the Chaos splinter’s benefit.

  Dim’s eyes widened.

  “Into pieces? Has it moved?”

  “You’re standing in it.”

  Dim heaved and stumbled from the mist. He retched, and although nothing came out of his mouth, Raimie knew the splinter had been truly sick.

  “Can you piece it back together?” Dim coughed.

  “I’ll try.”

  Raimie felt for the thousands of shards of source around him and lured them closer. Once he held a small amount, he embedded them into their familiar position within Bright.

  For close to an hour, he maintained that thread of white light from his surroundings to his hand and from it to the splinter of Order. He cobbled each piece as best he could into the overall puzzle, and when something refused to fit perfectly, he melded it into a shape that would work.

  The last of it passed through his hand, and he stumbled. He was tired, but it was the exhaustion of a hard day’s work not of extending too far. The sense of wrongness was gone, making his heart lift.

  Cautiously, he reached for his newly constructed source and slowly pulled Ele through it. It came as called, and Raimie tossed aside the small amount he’d drawn.

  “What’s going on?” Bright demanded. “Where’s Teron? Why aren’t we aboard ship?”

  “What did I help restore?” Dim groaned.

  “Restore? What’s the nuisance talking about, Raimie? Also, are you aware that there are several individuals staring at you?”

  Raimie closed his eyes in resignation.

  Dim, can you please explain recent events to him?

  “Do I have to?” the splinter whined.

  Trust me, you’re getting the easier job.

  Oswin and four other soldiers in navy uniforms gaped at Raimie when he turned.

  “Problem taken care of to your satisfaction?” he asked.

  “Y-you’re… you’re…” the bulky soldier in the center stammered.

  “I’m what? Average looking? A competent fighter? A fast learner?”

  Oswin cleared his throat.

  “Forgive our shock, sir. It’s one thing to have suspicions and another to have them confirmed.”

  “Maybe this isn’t such a suicide mission if we have a primeancer-” the
female of the group began before the others shushed her.

  “It’s all right,” Raimie sighed, waving away their concerns. “It was bound to come out eventually. Yes, I’m a primeancer.”

  “Of Ele?” the smallest asked. “At least, that’s what it looked like with all the white light.”

  The others shot him surprised looks.

  “What?” he mumbled. “I like the primeancer stories.”

  “I mainly use Ele,” Raimie said in answer to his question, “but Daevetch comes in handy every so often.”

  The smallest snorted back a laugh.

  “That’s impossible. It’s one or the other.”

  Oswin rounded sternly on the tiny soldier.

  “Little, is that any way to address-?”

  “No, I don’t mind. It’s good to be told you’re wrong every so often. In this case, however, Little is it?” the smallest nodded. “You’re the one who’s incorrect. Give me a moment.”

  You two ready to try something new? Raimie asked his splinters.

  The looked up from where they’d been furiously whispering and inclined their heads.

  Raimie reached for both sources and pulled from Daevetch and Ele at the same time. He sent brilliant white light to his left hand and murky black shadows to his right. As usual, the sense of tearing split his being, but he’d been prepared for it this time. He was able to ignore it for the length of time it took to display both magics and dispel them, successfully resisting the urge to sag once they’d gone.

  “As far as I’m aware, I’m the first of my kind-a dual primeancer.”

  Raimie waited in silence for them to run screaming.

  “Alouin help Doldimar,” the quiet one on the end whispered. “We’ve a secret weapon.”

  “Spymaster, you remember how I refused to swear any vows? You can forget that. I’ll say anything you want if it means I work for him,” Little murmured with wonder.

  “And I!”

  “Me as well.”

  The quiet one nodded.

  “Hang on, what’s going on?” Raimie asked. “Why aren’t you afraid? Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re not, but from everything I’ve been told, primeancers are the bogeymen of the past.”