by Dante King
“Come, Forgotten Ruler,” the voice in his head continued. “Take what is yours.”
Ben rushed past, pulling up into the sky as he flew beyond the outer circle of hills. Someone—something—back there at the ruins was calling out to him.
Did I leave that? he wondered as he flew. Did I leave some kind of note to myself that I’d discover years into the future when I finally returned?
He pulled around, wanting to test his theory. Ben lowered himself as close to the ground as he could while still putting enough height between him and the ruins so that he wouldn’t smash into them. And as he drew closer, the voice spoke again.
“Benzhameen.”
There was no doubt that, whatever the ruins were, they were there for him.
Maybe they’re a place of power? Ben thought. What would I find if I were to explore them?
The urge to land and explore them was strong. But he continued flying, pointing back west toward the direction of the other tower.
I can’t get sidetracked, he resolved. Right now, my mission is to scout the tower. I’m sure there are a million things worth checking out on the way there. But the more I stop, the more likely I am to find danger. Much better idea to return later when I’m better equipped. Or maybe even on the way back.
Resisting the temptation, Ben continued toward the river until the shimmering, snaking river was directly below him. The western tower was off on the horizon, and he pointed his beak toward it.
The rolling, green hills of the countryside gave way to another forest as he flew. But Ben could feel his mana reserve dipping low. He closed his eyes and focused, picturing the mana pool in his mind’s eye. Sure enough, the reservoir was nearly empty.
The tree line for the forest ahead was near, and he decided that would be as good a place to stop as any. But he knew it was time to stop. Each flap of his wings was harder than the last, and he needed to recharge before it was too late. And there was no guarantee the woods ahead would be safe.
Ben landed, coming to a stop on the grass and shifting back into his human form. Once he was grounded and settled, he noticed right away how damn quiet the scene around him was. The countryside was to his rear, the grass a gorgeous green and the sky blanketed with roiling, gray clouds. Up ahead was the darkness of the forest.
There was something about the forest that put Ben ill at ease. Unlike the woods nearer to his tower, the forest ahead seemed… hostile, as if danger lurker just beyond the tree line. He wasn’t sure if it were only his imagination, but Ben felt the urge to get out of there as quickly as possible.
Ben dropped to his knees and opened the pouch that contained his mana crystals. He withdrew the biggest one and took a bite, the faint, toffee flavor filling his mouth. He chewed happily, his mana replenishing by the second.
But as soon as he’d swallowed the first bite, Ben noticed something——it was the sense that someone was watching him from a distance. The nervous tension in his belly returned, the back of his neck prickling as if poked by a hundred hot needles. He took another bite, and this time as he chewed, he glanced up just in time to see a figure rush from left to right.
He chomped the rest of the mana crystal in three quick bites, swallowing it down and rising to his feet. Ben dusted his hands before placing his right palm on the hilt of his long sword, which hung on his right hip.
The shape rushed past again, and this time Ben had a better sense of what it was—an animal, one moving very, very quickly.
Whatever that thing is, he thought. I need to get away from it as quickly as possible.
It was the last thought he had before the creature burst forth from the woods.
The creature was huge, the size of a van, its feline shape reminding him of a tiger from back on earth. But it was twice the size of any tiger, and had six legs instead of four, its fur sleek and black as a panther’s. It snarled, baring its teeth and showing off rows of razor-sharp fangs. Its eyes glowed a golden yellow, green in the center.
Ben barely had time to react before it lunged through the air in his direction. He dropped and rolled to the right, the beast sailing over him and landing with a thud in the grass behind. Once he was clear, Ben yanked his long sword from the hilt and plunged it forward at the beast.
A howl of pain from the animal let him know that he’d hit the mark. The creature retreated, and Ben withdrew his blade to see the damage he’d done. Dark green blood wept from the beast’s left eye as it snarled in agony.
Very lucky shot, and probably bought me ten seconds to get the hell out of here.
Ben quickly shoved his sword back into the hilt, not bothering to wipe off the tip of the blade that was coated in the beast’s blood. He hurried away from the beast, putting distance between him and it. The creature was still in obvious pain, but Ben knew that one simple poke from his sword in the eye wouldn’t be nearly enough to bring it down.
I could stay and fight, but I’d end up burning through the mana I just restored. No—nothing to be gained from risking my life to take this thing down.
The beast rallied itself for another strike. But Ben didn’t plan on sticking around for long enough to give him a shot. Ben closed his eyes and shifted, this time changing into his hawk form faster than he’d done before. He wasn’t sure if it was his skill, or if he was motivated to hurry by the massive, snarling, pissed-off animal eager to tear his guts out.
Ben flapped his wings, the creature taking one futile swipe of his paw through the air as he did. The animal became smaller and smaller, and it wasn’t long before Ben was safely high enough. Ben gave himself a few moments of flapping in place to let his heart slow. The creature, as if sensing the fight was over, slinked back into the forest and disappeared into the trees.
OK, near-death experience over, thought Ben. Let’s get this mission back on track.
He flew on, the gnarled, dark forest below stretching into the distance, the tower rising before the mountain range behind it. The storm clouds overhead grew darker and darker, but no rain broke. It seemed to be that the forest was not only dark within, but above, as if there were simply a shroud over the land.
As Ben flapped his wings and glided atop the wind, he noticed that flight seemed to be less effort. He wasn’t certain, but he wondered if the trek had given him the opportunity to gain experience in the transformation spell. He put that out of his mind for now and focused on the tower ahead, keeping a good bit of distance over the tops of the trees as he flew.
But as he made more progress, covering the vast distance of the trees in seconds, Ben spotted something in the woods just ahead. A deep, glowing orange was in the depths of the woods, a half-circle extending outward from the base of the tower. The smell of burning was thick in the air, and the closer Ben came to the orange, the more intense the scent became.
He recognized what it was——fire. The trees were ablaze, flames spreading outward from the tower.
Did lightning strike? He wondered as he flew closer.
Ben lowered closer to the trees. And as he flew, he spotted movement beyond the ridge of flames.
It was a fire, he realized. But it was no accident.
The forest ahead of him was being burnt in a controlled blaze, hundreds of figures forming up in front of it as they chopped through the trees with massive axes and heaved the wood back into great piles. The piles of wood were quickly devoured by what, at first, seemed to be enormous machines. But as Ben grew closer, he could see that they weren’t machines entirely.
They were monsters.
Huge mechanical beasts with enormous mouths and great claws feasted on the wood. When they took in mouthfuls, they drove their claws into the ground, pulling up earth and tossing it behind them. As soon as the dirt landed, smaller workers that followed sifted through the mounds, pulling out small stones.
The front-line workers torched the stumps that remained, likely using the burned trees to enrich the soil—slash-and-burn agriculture, as Ben had heard before. It wasn’t the best system f
or long-term health of the forest, but it would provide plenty of usable resources in the short term.
The scene, like a great, organic factory marching through the woods and devouring the trees, reminded Ben of the despoiling of Isengard from The Lord of the Rings, when Saruman had ravaged the forest of Isengard to power his war machine.
Is that what’s happening? Ben asked himself as he flew. Are they using the resources to create an army?
He didn’t need to do much theorizing to figure out possible uses for such a force.
Ben swooped down lower, trying to get a better look. But one of the workers caught sight of him, rushing over to nearby soldiers and getting their attention. The troops spotted Ben right away, taking out their bows and firing arrows into the sky. One zipped by him, the arrow close enough for him to feel it against his feathers. It seemed strange that they were so concerned about a hawk, but then maybe they could tell he was a mage? Or perhaps mages used hawks in order to spy?
Either way, Ben decided that he’d gotten close enough. The tower was just ahead, the enormous structure jutting up into the dark sky above. Ben was so close, and part of him wanted to brave the danger and scout further ahead, to see just who was running this massive industrial operation below.
Another arrow whistled through the sky and changed his mind. Ben scanned the forest again, trying to memorize all the details he could about the operation. There were dozens upon dozens of the massive organic machines, thousands of workers among them chopping and burning the woods, sifting through the earth. Just as many soldiers were stationed as guards—or were they slavers? Ben couldn’t tell if the workers were there by choice.
He reached the woods. A few final arrows shot through the sky, missing him by a good distance. His heart rate settled as he glided on, the green hills in the distance a welcoming sight. And as he continued, he hoped that the soldiers who’d spotted him hadn’t realized just who they were shooting at. No doubt they had figured the hawk was likely a mage, but did they know the spy was none other than the Forgotten Ruler, the owner of the other tower?
No, Ben considered. There’s no way for them to have known.
He needed to maintain the element of surprise, however, and if the owner of the tower learned that Ben had seen the operation, that might be enough to ruin it. Either way, Ben would need to prepare for an invasion.
He reached the rolling, green hills of the countryside. Droplets of rain began to fall from the gray clouds above, but not enough to worry Ben.
The ruins. I need to check them out.
Ben found the river below. He followed it until he spotted the circular hill formation. His heart raced again, but this time out of excitement rather than fear. He brought himself lower to the ground, ready to land at the ruins in the center.
This time, however, he spotted something that hadn’t been there earlier.
Soldiers.
Ben was low enough to see that the troops - about a dozen in total - were dressed in colorful robes and turbans, scimitars hanging at their hips. They wore breastplates over their torsos and gauntlets on their wrists. Their attention was locked on the ruins, so none of them saw Ben approaching. He pulled up, putting some distance between him and the soldiers, ensuring they wouldn’t notice him.
Then he circled back to the river. His mana reserves were running low again. Ben landed on one of the far mounds, shifting back to his human form. He opened his pack and pulled out a big mana crystal and devoured it, hoping it would be enough to take him the rest of the way back to the tower.
As he ate, he watched the troops in the distance, their colorful clothes a strong contrast to the green of the hills.
Who the hell are they? Ben wondered. The soldiers near the tower wore armor—they weren’t dressed anywhere close to how they are. Are they scouts? And what are they doing in my ruins?
As soon as the thought finished, another appeared in Ben’s mind.
But this one didn’t belong to him.
“Benzhameen,” the voice said. “Take what is yours.”
It was the same voice he’d heard earlier when he’d passed over the ruins. There was no doubt to him that whatever the ruins were, they were his to explore, his to conquer. Whatever was hidden among them was his.
And there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d let someone else take what belonged to him. Had these soldiers heard the same voice calling out to them, Ben wondered? Or were they simply scouts sent to investigate the strange ruins? Maybe the ruins were cursed. Maybe they called out to whoever was near, drawing them in to their doom.
It would be a risk to investigate the ruins, but it was one Ben was willing to take. The army he’d spotted ahead was likely growing by the minute, and he couldn’t afford to lose any advantage he might find.
When his mana was fully restored, Ben stood and stretched. Part of him wanted to leave, to return to the tower and tell the rest of the council what he’d learned. But the greater part of him wanted to stay, to deal with the soldiers who were on the verge of breaking into his ruins and taking what was rightfully his.
If I’m going to rule this land, I’ll need to stake my claim, he resolved. Those ruins belong to me, and there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to let those soldiers steal what I rightfully possess.
He nodded, pleased with his plan. Ben was certain that he’d be able to take on the soldiers. But first, he needed to scout the area and make sure no other troops were nearby.
After shifting to his hawk form, he rose into the sky and flew over the ruins again. The men were all seated in a circle as if discussing what to do next. One of them glanced up at Ben, but none reacted to his fly-by in any other way.
Ben prepared to land near the central hill, but as he flew over the outer ring of mounds, he spotted someone he hadn’t seen before—several someones.
A man on horseback was surrounded by a retinue of three other men. The man on the horse was dressed in colorful finery, a grand turban on his head. The horse was pearl-white and strong The man’s posture was regal and his gaze fixed forward.
Ben, wanting to see just who this man was, flew onto the slope of the hill, landed, and began to watch.
“No, you fool!” the man’s voice, stern and aristocratic, carried down the hill. “The other bottle of wine!”
Still in his hawk form, Ben inched closer.
Now that he was close enough, Ben could see that the three soldiers who were with the man on horseback were skinny, and dressed in clothing hardly as fine as the man they served.
“I swear,” said the man on horseback. “It’s hard to find good slaves these days.”
Slaves. The word was enough to make Ben’s blood boil.
So, the three men are slaves. And that would make the man on the horse their owner.
“Lord D’reth,” said one of the slaves, his voice weak and fearful. “We haven’t eaten since we began the march to the ruins. And it’s—”
“It’s what?” asked the man on horseback, who Ben now knew was named D’reth. “Speak!”
“Its…it’s a bit hard to focus when you’re hungry.”
D’reth sighed impatiently. “You’d like something to eat?” he asked.
“Something small,” said the slave. “Just enough to keep the hunger pains at bay.”
“Certainly. Here’s a little something you can snack on.”
D’reth held his palms a few inches apart. A red orb formed between them, ballooning larger by the moment. When it was the size of a baseball, D’reth launched it, the orb shooting with incredible speed, connecting with the backside of the slave.
A yelp of pain cut through the air, followed by a sharp sizzle. The slave fell forward on his hands and knees and moaned in pain.
“You eat when I give you food to eat,” said D’reth. “And you speak when I give you permission to speak. Understand?”
“Y…yes,” said the slave. Ben could tell by the tone of his voice that he was in pain.
Rage bubbled inside Ben. Few things
pissed him off more than seeing the helpless mistreated.
“Now,” said D’reth. “My duty is to make sure the expedition is unmolested. And that means your duty is to assist me. Now, get to it.”
Ben was still unclear on the nature of the group who was in his ruins. But he now knew that D’reth was on lookout.
I need to get around him, Ben thought.
He rose into the air, flapping his wings and gaining some distance above the ground.
But he didn’t get far.
“There!” called out D’reth.
Ben spun around just in time to watch D’reth summon another red orb between his hands. He launched it toward Ben and, before Ben had a chance to get out of the way, it connected with his wing, shooting straight through his feathers.
Ben let out a cry of surprise, which came out as the shrill cry of a hawk. To his horror, a hole had been burned into his wing, the feathers around it singed black. He flapped hard, but the hole made flying impossible. Air rushed through the hole, and he spiraled downward.
The ground rushed toward him, the green growing larger and larger.
Until he collided with the earth. The pain was like nothing he’d ever experienced.
“There!” shouted D’reth, his shrill voice now familiar. “Now we finish the job.”
Fear gripped Ben. His troubles had only just begun.
Chapter 18
The pain that blasted through Ben’s wing was unlike anything he’d ever known. It raged and burned, rendering him unable to move his wing even an inch. The smell of burned flesh filled the air around him.
He had to assess the damage. Ben rolled over onto his side, splaying his ruined wing on the grass.
The hollow bones of his wing had been broken in half a dozen places, all his weight having landed on them from the fall. And toward the end of the wing, a baseball-sized hole had been burned through his feathers, the wizard’s red-hot orb punching straight through his thin muscles.
“Where did he go?” The voice of D’reth carried over the hills. Despite the pain, Ben quickly remembered that he was being pursued by a mage. “Find him now, you fools!”