Destiny

by Jason A. Cheek

  “They would be avenged!” Lifting his heavy head, Tiberius rose to his cloven hooves, signaling the bulls behind him in legion hand-speak as he freed the massive battle-axe from his back.

 

  Quietly his legionnaires rose up behind him. Unlimbering their battle-axes, they spread out in a spearhead formation with Tiberius at their lead looking towards the forest warily. Silently Tiberius made his way down the slope his senses alert for danger. Not that there was much five Minotaurs could do against a force that could wipe out two full-strength legions. The best chance they had was to keep their presence secret until finding the Thirteenth.

  Carefully stepping over torn limbs and shredded bodies of both Elves and Minotaurs, Tiberius made his way to the center of the battlefield and the largest concentration of bodies. His eyes narrowing as he took note of the battle damage. What he saw made no sense. The gaping wounds were like nothing he’d seen before. Most of the legionnaire’s thick tinnearlian shields had deep gouges running down their length while their lorica segmentata breastplates were shredded almost beyond recognition. It was as if some powerful creature had ripped through the soldiers’ chests.

  Remembering Centurion Aquila’s old battle stories about the beginning of the Tuonellian invasion, Tiberius stopped suddenly. Kneeling down next to the nearest legionnaire at his hooves, he inspected the terrible wounds thoughtfully as his bulls formed up around him in a protective circle. A large hole had been ripped into the center of the young male’s chest. Looking closer Tiberius realized that the heart was missing from the chest cavity. Getting down onto his hands and knees, he stuck an arm into the gaping hole as Cornisus looked away turning green.

  Tiberius bit back the bile rising in his throat as he searched inside the legionnaire’s bloated corpse. The implications alone made him shiver, but he had to know if he was right or not. A second later, he nervously sat back on his haunches. It wasn’t just the heart that was missing. All of the young male’s internal organs were gone. Sucking air in labored breaths he fought to control the rising fear in his chest.

  Going to the next Minotaur, Tiberius rolled the legionnaire over repeating the same search. Again the corpse was stripped of internal organs. A quick search of the next three bodies gave the same results. Moving about the field of battle in a daze, he searched through the piles of dead until he finally found what he was looking for, the lithe form of a Forest Elf. Long strides brought him to the archer’s side as he quickly flipped the small body over.

  Tiberius froze at the sight of the gaping hole in the center of the Elf’s chest as his blood turned to ice in his veins. Standing to his full height, Tiberius flexed his shoulders scanning the piles of dead once more. This time, he could better piece together the course of events. This was no battle between the Elven Clans of the Great Forest and the Imperium. There were no signs of arrow storms hammering at the Legions ranks. No gaping wounds left from the Ironidium Knights two-handed swords. No, this was classic Tuonellian Hulk tactics.

  Following the tree line with his eyes, Tiberius studied the scattered bodies lying across the open ground. There must have been enough Hulks to catch the majority of the Legions while they were strung out in double column formation for traveling. His experienced eyes easily followed the clumps of dead to where he now stood.

  General Lentulus Porcia had managed to get a portion of his Legions formed up, but obviously, it wasn’t enough. Turning in a circle Tiberius studied entire slope. Not when the Tuonellian force was large enough to completely surround the survivors. The size of a force that large would have smash through the defensives lines with relative ease. Once the battle was over the monsters would have consumed the dead to recover from their strength. Hulks would eat anything, but they were known to prefer the internal organs of their prey the best.

  Striding to where the broken Pennant of the Imperium lay atop a pile of corpses, Tiberius began digging through the dead as his bulls kept a lookout. Tossing bodies aside, he went about his grisly task until he found what he was looking for, General Lentulus Porcia’s blood-soaked body.

  Pulling the general to the top of the pile, Tiberius laid his battle-axe down to search the dead general’s body with both hands. He stopped when he felt the smooth messenger cylinder. With a quick jerk, he ripped through the leather bindings holding the tube in place. Unrolling the scroll quickly, he scanned through the contents of the Emperor’s orders. Snorting derisively, Tiberius spat tossing the scroll to Cornisus.

  “The First and Second Legions were never sent to Aosta.” As the smaller bull read the missive, Tiberius continued searching for more clues when Cornisus looked up incredulously a moment later. “Their true mission was a preemptive strike against the Elves? That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, Sire.”

  Tiberius grimaced at the title, but it was better than being called Emperor or Lord every time he spoke to one of his bulls. “You’re looking at it the wrong way. Remember General Sergius Aquilus sixth treatise on the Art of War?”

  Wide-eyed, Cornisus chose his words carefully. “The Art of What, Sire?”

  “You know, if your enemy’s forces are united, separate them.” Taking the scroll back, Tiberius hid his grin as he tucked the messenger tube into his belt. “Think of it as if you were a Tuonellian. You’ve been winning every battle as each race struggles to fight you individually when the Klavikians appear and bring your enemies together into one overwhelming alliance, before you know it your easy prey is on the verge of wiping you out. That’s when you come up with a plan to annihilate your strongest enemy, but after the battle, you are too weak to fight the rest of the races. Follow me?

  Suddenly unsure of himself, Cornisus pitched his voice so that only Tiberius could hear. “I earned my rank on the battlefield. I never attended the War University, Sire.”

  Seeing the Cornisus’ nervous face, Tiberius gripped the smaller bull’s shoulder to put him at ease. Raising his voice, he spoke loud enough so that all of his legionnaires could hear him. “Think of it as a bar fight. You have a group of five bulls surrounding you. One of them is a great big monster while the other four are your size. Who do you attack first?”

  Cracking his knuckles, Cornisus gave a gap-toothed smile. “I always go for the big’ems first, Sire. You can always take the little guys out one at a time once he’s down.”

  With a grim face, Tiberius met Cornisus’ solemn eyes. “That’s what the Tuonellians are doing to Alliance now.”

  The sudden call of Imperium War horns deep in the forest stopped further discussion. Whipping around in horror, Tiberius heard the first Elven war drums deep thrumming reply answer back a second later. At first, it was only one or two drums, but within moments, the entire forest began echoing with the rumbling call to war.

  It had to be the Thirteenth! Bolting down the slope with a wordless cry, Tiberius took off running for the sounds of battle as his bulls sprang after him. Calling on his people’s heritage, Tiberius forced his legs to pump faster as the wind of his passing blew his long mane and red cape flaring out behind him. Somehow he had to stop this catastrophe!

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Location Irlendria / Lúthien Narmolanya:

  Lúthien’s head jerked up as she heard Imperium war horns echoing throughout the forest. A second later she swore under her breath as explosions rang out ahead of them. “What in Tapio’s name was happening now?”

  Worriedly she glanced at Enelya struggling under Argus’ weight. Her cousin’s face was ghostly white from pain as she gulped air in wheezing gasps. Glassy-eyed, she returned Lúthien’s anxious look croaking hoarsely. “Smoke!”

  Lúthien tried to stop as Enelya began hacking uncontrollably, but her cousin stubbornly drove them forward with a sharp shake of her head as blood ran down her chin. Frustrated, she followed Enelya’s unspoken command taking up the lead once again as Argus’ head lolled back and forth on his shoulders. He’d collapsed unconscious after helping them escape from Daeron Fortress.
Lúthien didn’t know if the Wenci still lived or not, but if Warden Morwen’s understanding of the Sál Tengilinn bond was correct, Enelya’s life was connected to the animal’s. The Wenci must still live.

  Lúthien understood the need to reach the city of Bel Arbre Ciel before the Ironidium Knights, but not if it killed them in the process. Slowing down, she looked at Enelya anxiously. “We have to stop. You have to rest before you kill yourself!”

  This time, Enelya glared at her. Struggling to speak, she spat blood from her mouth. “Listen.”

  “I’ve had just about enough of this; you’ve got to …” Lúthien’s voice died away at the sounds of clashing weapons and the screams of combat. Turning around, she froze as the distinctive stench of smoke came to her on the wind, before rushing forward again wide-eyed with Enelya in tow.

  As they neared the Forests Elves’ capital, the visibility dropped to almost nothing. Coughing from smoke inhalation, Lúthien pushed on until she broke free of the heavy foliage. Stopping in horror, she saw the entire grove of Bel Arbre Ciel was aflame. Already the flames had reach the enormous boughs of the Mother Tree high overhead making it look as if the heavens were on fire. This close to the grove the sound of the roaring blaze was deafening.

  Staggering half-blind through the smoke, Lúthien made her way towards the grove as the shrill screams of the dying filled the air as shadowy figures fought around her. Bolts of pure energy streaked through the haze as the Forest Clan’s runic bows lashed out at their attackers leaving pulsing trails of light through the heavy smoke. Burning bodies rained around her as the Elves trapped high overhead chose to plummet to their deaths rather than be burned alive, while the deep thrumming call of war drums thundered around her as the defenders of Bel Arbre Ciel warned the neighboring communities of the Imperium’s horrific attack. Making her way towards the struggling lines of warriors, Lúthien stopped as a large burning branch slammed to the ground blocking their path. Through the burning flames she saw Prince Galdor go down under a rush of armored Minotaurs.

  “Nnnooo!” Screaming in denial, Lúthien backed away from the searing heat as more fiery branches crashed to the ground in front of her.

  Galdor was a long time childhood friend. Although he’d always wanted to be more to her, Lúthien had always begged off his advances saying she needed to focus on her studies, but, in truth, she’d always been more interested in his younger brother. Still, she cared for him greatly. As Lúthien saw a humongous Minotaur with large curved horns lift its battle-axe over Galdor’s bloody head, she raised her hand shrieking out a word of command.

  “Eldur Ray!” A searing ray of light shot from Lúthien’s palm as tears ran down her cheeks. Instantly the spell blasted the Minotaur full in the face with its scorching magic fire as the bull’s massive head jerked up from the unexpected assault. Staggering backward, the Minotaur bellowed in rage as its beady red eyes focused on her from across the burning blockade. For a second, the bull’s face melted away until she was staring at the corpse-white features of a Tuonellian Hulk before its hate-filled face reformed into that of a Minotaur once again.

  “Save the Prince!” The call rang out across the grove as Lúthien saw King Elladan lead a small force of Elves into the teeth of the attackers. For a second, the Minotaur line was pushed back as the smaller forms of the Elves threw themselves sword first into the advancing ranks. Swarming over the lead Minotaurs in an enraged frenzy their runic blades pierced in-between the gaps of the legionnaires’ armor as they bore the line to the ground.

  “Get him to the safety of Ciel Lieu!” Leaping to his feet Kind Elladan held back the Imperium’s advance with his house guard as more Elves carried Prince Galdor away to safety. Around him, flashing streaks of rune arrows blasted into the Minotaur ranks from overhead with devastating results.

  Lúthien was still urgently dragging Enelya and Argus with her as she searched for a way around the fire to King Elladan when a loud crack reverberated through the air. Her head whipped around just in time to see the Mother Tree’s central trunk crumple in on top of itself near the base. In horror, Lúthien watched Elves catapult into the ground as the disintegrating Mother Tree jerked to a sudden stop. Her breath caught in her lungs as the central trunk tilted at a precarious angle as the Daughter Trees of the Grove held the weight of their dying Mother.

  For a second the Imperium line of legionnaires wavered as they looked up at the impending fiery doom above their heads. Shrieks of terror rang out from Elves still trapped high up in the burning branches as the entire grove was engulfed in magical fire when suddenly the deafening sound of snapping timber drowned out all sound. As one side of the grove collapsed under the weight of the Mother Tree’s enormous trunk, Lúthien dove to the ground in terror as flaming chunks of wood blasted through the air as the Daughter Trees suddenly exploded.

  Lifting her head, Lúthien gaped at the firestorm raging where Bel Arbre Ciel had stood just a moment before. Gritting her teeth she rose to her feet weakly helping Enelya clear Argus of burning splinters, when a strangled cry came from nearby. Looking over her shoulder, Lúthien froze as the Tuonellian Hulk rose to its feet with King Elladan gripped in its clawed fist. She couldn’t hear what was being said over the sounds of the roaring flames, but before Lúthien could think of what to do, the Hulk ripped the Kings face off with one bite of its misshapen maw.

  Lúthien screamed in terror as the creature threw its head back howling in triumph. She immediately stopped as the monster’s beady red eyes focused on her from across the flames and burning debris. As the Hulk blinked its eyes in sudden recognition, she saw a look of pure hunger cross the monster’s grotesque face. With a savage growl, the Hulk threw King Elladan’s broken body away striding directly for her. Ignoring the roaring fire the monster effortlessly began tossing aside the burning branches blocking its path with its clawed fists as the Hulk made its way towards her.

  Staggering backward in fright, Lúthien felt herself roughly propelled away from the grove as a callused clawed hand suddenly gripped her upper arm. Whipping around in fright, Lúthien immediately settled down as she saw Argus’ furry face looking back at her. His whiskers fearfully twitched as he stared wide-eyed at the burning forest fire raging around them with instinctual terror, but somehow he managed to keep his fear in check. Hunched over in agony, Argus guided her away from the grove pulling Enelya close behind him.

  “Where are we going?” Lúthien lungs burned from the heat and smoke as she hacked uncontrollably, but Argus simply ignored her question pushing her forward. “Dammit Argus, where are you taking us?” Tears streamed down her face from the thick haze as she caught Enelya’s hoarse answer.

  “We head for the Otso River.”

  Lúthien’s thought’s raced; that was nowhere near one of the Forest Clan’s cities when she suddenly realized what Enelya meant to do. “Morwen told us to go to the Forest Clan. What can the Wild Clan do to save us?”

  Enelya’s face hardened as she met Lúthien’s imperious gaze. “More than King Elladan can do to help us now.” They all looked back at the sudden loud crash behind them as the Tuonellian Hulk smashed through the last burning barrier between them and the grove. With a look of terror, Enelya shoved them all forward yelling.

  “Now run for your lives!” With a strangled cry of pain, Argus suddenly scooped them both up in his arms leaping for the river.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Location Irlendria / Startüm Ironwolf:

  Water pounded my head and shoulders like giant sledgehammers as we plunged deep into the turbulent river at the bottom of the waterfall. Immediately the whirling undercurrent seized us in its powerful grip driving us through an underwater forest of boulders hidden in its depths. Clutching the girls protectively to my chest, I felt my battered body repeatedly pummeled by the swirling vortex as I fought to free us from its sucking grasp.

  My lungs felt like they were going to burst by the time I finally broke the surface. Gasping for air the deafening sound of the pounding w
aterfall roared in my ears as the rushing river swept us down stream. Consciousness came in flashing waves of lucidity as I strove to reach the bank speeding past. I couldn’t have said how much time passed before I became aware of my steel-toe boots dragging in the soft sand of a sandbar. My head reeled, but somehow I managed to crawl on my knees out of the waist deep water as my vision faded in and out, before collapsing once again on the cool, wet sand. Laying there burning with fever, I heard the girls’ weak fluttering heartbeats in my ears. They were dying.

  The modicum of energy that I regenerated naturally was being fully consumed to keep my own body functioning, but even if I could have saved up enough energy to heal them, it wouldn’t have been enough to stop the effects of the Fring consuming them from the inside out. The only thing that could help them now was food. Without it, they were going to die, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I felt the useless rage of my Werewolf half welling up inside of me as my life slowly drain away. Out of everything we'd survived, our fight couldn't end here. There had to be something I was missing.

  Gathering my thoughts, I prayed to Ukko for guidance. As the holy presence of my God filled me, my eyes suddenly focused on the pulse beating in my wrist when the idea hit. With a wordless grunt, I push myself upright using my forehead until I was sitting back on my knees. Unsheathing the dagger at my waist, I pulled back a leather armor gauntlet before cleanly slitting my wrist. As the blood welled up from my vein, I gathered Starfire into my arms pressing her lips against the wound.