Impact of the Fallen: The White Mage Saga #4 (The Chronicles of Lumineia)

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Impact of the Fallen: The White Mage Saga #4 (The Chronicles of Lumineia) Page 1

by Ben Hale




  Impact of the Fallen

  By Ben Hale

  Text Copyright © 2014 Ben Hale

  All Rights Reserved

  To my family and friends,

  who believed

  And to my wife,

  who is perfect

  The Chronicles of Lumineia

  By Ben Hale

  —The White Mage Saga—

  Assassin's Blade (Short story prequel)

  The Last Oracle

  The Sword of Elseerian

  Descent Unto Dark

  Impact of the Fallen

  The Forge of Light

  —The Second Draeken War—

  Elseerian

  The Gathering

  Seven Days

  The List Unseen

  —The Warsworn—

  The Flesh of War

  The Age of War

  The Heart of War (Dec 2015)

  Table of Contents

  Prologue: An Oracle Fallen

  Chapter 1: A Vain Hope

  Chapter 2: The Mage Without Magic

  Chapter 3: A Greater Fiend

  Chapter 4: The Warden

  Chapter 5: Voice of the Dead

  Chapter 6: The Punished

  Chapter 7: The Weight of Leadership

  Chapter 8: Made in Pairs

  Chapter 9: Swarms

  Chapter 10: Water Strider

  Chapter 11: The Deep

  Chapter 12: Elsurund

  Chapter 13: Foresight

  Chapter 14: The Tryton's Gate

  Chapter 15: Traitor

  Chapter 16: The Iron Lady

  Chapter 17: Dark Trap

  Chapter 18: Assassin's Visit

  Chapter 19: Siarra's Memory

  Chapter 20: The Black Reaver

  Chapter 21: The Allegian Trial

  Chapter 22: Runekeys

  Chapter 23: Overheard

  Chapter 24: Truth of the Twisted

  Chapter 25: Leviathan

  Chapter 26: Prime

  Chapter 27: Stolen

  Chapter 28: Into the Dark

  Chapter 29: Romania

  Chapter 30: Call to War

  Chapter 31: Gathering the Elite

  Chapter 32: A Swordsman Lost

  Chapter 33: The Red Blade

  Chapter 34: Reunion

  Chapter 35: Aurens on Auroraq

  Chapter 36: Robert's Truth

  Chapter 37: Weight of the Lost

  Chapter 38: Death of a Voidling

  Chapter 39: Robar's Place

  Chapter 40: Assaulting the Spirus

  Chapter 41: A Trap Closed

  Chapter 42: A Fallen Friend

  Chapter 43: The Swordsman

  Chapter 44: Iotian

  Chapter 45: Assassin's Duel

  Chapter 46: Last Stand

  Chapter 47: The Master's Deception

  Chapter 48: The Willing Fire

  Chapter 49: Impact of the Fallen

  Chapter 50: Broken

  Epilogue: The Heart of Tryton's

  The Chronicles of Lumineia

  Author Bio

  Prologue: An Oracle Fallen

  Alice, Master of the Harbingers, gazed over the endless Dark. The magic of luck rippled across her frame, allowing her to fly above the cloud and survey what she had gained. For once it did not elicit a sense of triumph. Instead, anger coursed through her, unchecked and raw. Everything she'd worked for, everything she'd accomplished, all was now threatened because of her defiant daughter.

  Why had Tess resisted Alice? The girl clearly wanted to help others, and yet refused every offer of power. Was it because she was the oracle? Was it the abundance of magic in her that blinded her to the truth? Or was it simply her loyalty to her auren parents?

  Alice jerked her head. That could not be it. To sacrifice herself for them went beyond loyalty. It suggested something more. Alice's frown deepened. Why would anyone choose to die instead of accepting greater power for themselves?

  "Your plan is coming together," Ducalik said from beside her.

  She almost snapped at him, but held her tongue. She had yet to fully master the Dark, and so for now she still needed him. Together they had created the Voidlings, conscious entities crafted from the Dark's energy.

  "For now," she replied evenly.

  Her gaze turned to the horizon. Floating as they were above Auroraq, their position provided an unparalleled view of the vast cloud. Lethal and massive, the Dark spread before them like a sea of shadow. The midday sunlight was stopped cold, failing to touch the ground far below.

  In spite of Tess's death, Alice was pleased with the Dark's success. As she'd anticipated, the nations immediately surrounding Mt. Elbrus had been skeptical, but as the Dark had gradually swallowed their countries they had begun to panic. Refugees had fled while their militaries failed to stop the incursion.

  By the time the Dark had expanded beyond the Middle East, the other nations had taken her seriously. Moldova had been the first to categorically accept her rule. The Dark had reached its borders—and then gone around. It hadn't taken long for others to submit. Facing the threat of extinction, they did not have a choice.

  Yet many had chosen to die rather than join her. In a matter of days the Dark would reach the more populous countries. Billions of lives would soon join her burgeoning army.

  A smile curled her lips. In the nations that had accepted her rule, the Dark maintained order and law. The mere intention to do harm was sufficient for the Dark to execute a human, and Twist them into an extension of its will. Already Alice's army of Twisted within the Dark far surpassed the survivors on Earth. If Hawk or his allies somehow managed to stop the Dark, she would still have an army.

  But why had the oracle not accepted that?

  The question rankled her. She'd planned every aspect of this war, every response her adversaries might utilize, but still the oracle eluded her plans. Was it possible that she possessed a portion of luck as well? No. She was certain that her blood daughter did not—or at least she did not know how to use it.

  Tess had been the oracle, one of the most powerful tools available to Alice. If she had just accepted that, many would not have perished. Much of the mage community would have joined the Harbinger ranks. With the oracle at her side Alice would have been able to force the auren nations to submit. But where had the girl gained such willpower? Certainly not from her auren parents.

  She turned to Ducalik. "Are you certain you cannot find her?"

  Ducalik's brow furrowed. "I have answered that question already. The Dark cannot see her. It would be like you noticing a crawler under your boot."

  "But you sent the Twisted to find her."

  "She is a fiend now," Ducalik said. "But they will bring back her body, as you ordered."

  "What if she survived?"

  "She has not." His voice left no room for argument. "Nothing can survive inside its consciousness. There is no mind strong enough, no will forceful enough to withstand its power. It is a sentient and intelligent mind, a supreme collective. Humankind lacks the capacity to defy it."

  She looked at him. "Yet you found a way."

  His lips curled in a sneer. "After thousands of years we gained an understanding. The Dark allows me to control it because we are of the same mind. You know this from your own efforts to gain power over it."

  She rotated in the air, her gaze on the endless expanse of eternal night. "The oracle has proven to be more resilient than I anticipated."

  "Even she cannot withstand the Dark's might."

  She did not disagree, but her uncertai
nty prevailed. Or was it hope? As many as she had killed, it had all been in an effort to prevent the atrocities of mankind. She had slain thousands with a purpose. But this felt different. A flicker of motherly worry sparked inside her—and she quashed it. She was the Master of fortune, leader of the Harbingers and possessor of the Dark. She had no need for such feelings. Now that she had identified the emotion, she snuffed it until it could not return.

  Ducalik was right. Nothing had the power to withstand the Dark except for her and Ducalik. The last oracle was dead. Releasing a grunt, she turned to the future. There were still nations to conquer, and many more deaths before the end. Someone had erected a statue of the oracle, making her out to be a martyr. It did not matter. They were like sheep bleating in a caged pasture.

  In a few short weeks the Dark would reach the Americas, where the last of the aurens were fleeing. Rather than kill them with the Dark, she had something else in mind. Her army of Twisted would slaughter them without mercy. When the bloodshed became too great they would submit. The world would finally kneel to her rule.

  But the growing number of Twisted required a general to lead them, a figurehead they would follow when the time came. Only a creature of immense power could compel the Twisted to obey. She had intended for the oracle and Ducalik to lead them. Now she must turn to another to replace her daughter, one whose power rivaled her own. It would not disobey her.

  For that was the purpose of its creation.

  Chapter 1: A Vain Hope

  Hawk glided through the night sky in phoenix form, scanning the Brazilian jungle below. Shortly after midnight he spotted his goal and folded his wings. He dropped like a stone, and alighted next to a squat, nondescript mound. Although leafy trees, vines, and brush grew thick above it, a stone in front of the hill had rebuffed the jungle's efforts to claim it.

  Hawk kept his distance from the warden, and walked a short distance into the jungle. Dank and shadowed, the sweltering expanse brimmed with sound. Through the cacophony he identified a prowling jaguar, rustling birds, and a number of chattering primates. As if sensing the presence of a greater predator, they kept their distance.

  When he'd gone far enough that the warden would not detect him, Hawk turned his gaze to the ground at his feet. Drawing from the abundance of heat, he sparked a flame that quickly became a torrent. Animals retreated from the sudden brightness, shrieking in fear. Hawk paid them no mind and turned his magic on the ground beneath him.

  The plants were incinerated in seconds. Then the soil melted and he began to sink. The fire engulfed his frame as it drilled into the earth, yet it did not blacken his flesh. The scent of bubbling rock and the rush of fire on his body reminded him of his lost nest, and his lost love.

  Archeantial.

  Her name sent a pang of regret through him. Another that he cared about had been lost—this time to the expanding Dark. If Tess still lived this would be his best chance at finding her.

  He continued to sink into the earth, until abruptly his fire took on a shrieking whine. Recognizing that he'd struck the barrier above the tunnels, he gathered his power and delivered a single, powerful blow. The jungle above brightened with the sudden blast of light, and then darkness returned as Hawk extinguished all but a sliver of fire.

  Through the cloud of steam the stone glowed from heat, and dripped slag through the jagged hole he'd made. Hawk nodded in satisfaction, and dropped through the gap into the tunnel below. The sound of his boots striking the cave floor reverberated around him. He paused, but the warden at the hill did not awaken. Satisfied, Hawk cast a trio of candle charms and set off.

  He followed the tunnels into the depths of the cave system. Ancient and unchanged, his path had not seen a human in thousands of years. Lit by his magic, a small stream and luminescent plants reflected against the walls of the winding cave. His tread echoed off the sloped walls and stalagmites around him, while the smell of wet earth filled his nose.

  Hours passed, but he did not rest. If Tess had survived her fall this would be his sole chance of reaching her—and time was of the essence. As he went beneath, the Dark continued to expand on the surface, and the casualty rate climbed with it. Soon half the globe would be gone. His lips tightened. He could not allow the Harbingers to be victorious. He'd prepared for thousands of years for this war. To fail would be unforgivable.

  In spite of his troubled thoughts, he kept his attention on his surroundings. This network of tunnels was distinct from any known to man, and contained many dangers. Aside from a few deep lizards he encountered nothing alive, until a voice spoke to him.

  "The eternal flame comes to the eternal dark," it said.

  Hawk came to a halt. "Urilian, you always seem to be placed on scouting duties."

  A lithe figure stepped from the shadows. His eyes and hair were the color of obsidian, while his skin was dark gray. The dark elf was dressed in the customary armor of his race. Strong, supple, and quiet, the leather of the red fang viper had many uses.

  "A month's penance for stealing an object of desire," he said. His smile was unrepentant. "But of greater interest is what brings you here again? I believe the queen made her stance clear the last time?"

  "Things have changed," Hawk said. "What threatens us threatens you as well."

  "It's your death to pay," he said with a shrug. "Come with me."

  Hawk followed the soldier past a pair of magical barriers and through a subtle mechanical trap. Without Urilian's casual wave the secret blades on either side would have cut him asunder. Then he led him to a secret Gate that teleported thousands of miles away. They exited into a guarded platform that overlooked the dark elf city.

  Elsurund, the everlasting stronghold of a forgotten race, stretched before him. Built into thirteen massive stalactites, the underground city lived in eternal night. Each of the enormous stalactites hung several hundred feet from the ceiling, piercing the gaping maw of the endless pit below. Known as the Well of Shadow, the pit spanned the entire breadth of the city.

  Arched walkways connected the thirteen stalactites, and spiraled up them to the roof of the massive cavern. Balconies protruded at numerous levels while broad windows spilled light onto the city landscape. Whole amphitheatres and lofty homes had been carved into the huge spires.

  Rivers caressed the contours of the city, gurgling in carved channels. At times they magically flowed uphill, but eventually they cascaded into the enormous pit beneath. Mist from the falling water added a touch of moisture to the warm air.

  Tiny luminescent plants coated every inch of the stalactites in shades of purple, blue and green. The algae had been cultured to flicker in detailed patterns, carpeting the stone in light. The effect added light and beauty to the city.

  Each of the massive stalactites was known as a spine, and was governed by a reign. A collection of distinct houses lived in each spine. As home to the queen, Primok dominated the center of the expansive cavern, its knobby bulk even larger than the others. Distinct shades of blue algae lined its shape. Near the top, the palace was easily identifiable by its sweeping balconies and intricate arches.

  Urilian led him across a wide span to Quiliscian, fifth spine and headquarters of the dark elf army. Porches and overlooks stretched out above and below the bridge and were filled with elves training for combat. At over a thousand feet thick, Quiliscian was the third largest spine.

  Urilian led Hawk past the gates, and a few of the soldiers that knew Hawk nodded in his direction. Among the common elves he had many friends. It was the ruling class that harbored a dislike for him.

  "Do you have anything for me this time?" Urilian asked.

  Hawk reached into his pocket and withdrew a bar of candy. The elf's eyes lit up and the chocolate disappeared into his hands. With nimble fingers he split the package and took a bite.

  "Treats won't save you from the queen, you know," he said, his mouth muffled as he savored the taste.

  "I know," Hawk replied, and his heart tightened. If there was a chance that Tess h
ad survived he would pass through any crucible to save her.

  Urilian shrugged and turned onto another intersecting bridge. They reached the opposite end and passed through a gate of woven spiders’ silk. Fashioned from the arachnid unique to this depth, the trismere silk was both incredibly strong and difficult to make. Upon speaking with the guards, Urilian and Hawk were allowed through. From there they passed one of the markets in the spine of mercantile, Loganis.

  Bustling merchants plied their trade of enchanted objects or exotic surface items. One elf emphatically insisted the falcon on his arm was a beacon of luck, while the one beside him claimed the cell phone in his hand to be a technological wonder from the surface.

  The shoppers were dressed in the finest silk and woven clothing. Knives and hidden blades were in abundance, but few conflicts broke out. They may have been known for a savage nature, but in truth they had become as civilized as the surface.

  The dark elves lived in a harsh society, forged by the dangers of the deep earth. Status was marked by the expense of the garment, as well as the number of guards among the entourage. Few in this city were unskilled in combat. All dark elves were trained from birth with magic or blades.

  Hawk did not deviate from his course in spite of the many eyes on him, and strode to the palace ahead. It was only his fifth visit to the city—during the third of which he'd been forced to blast his way out. The cleft on the side of Primok still bore the mark from where he'd split he rock.

  Like all the spans that connected to Primok, this one was fashioned of solid purple light. Dark and difficult to look at, it was both beautiful and deadly. The city spellcasters could dismiss the bridge at a moment's notice, leaving any standing on its surface to plunge into the Well of Shadow.

  They reached the palace entrance, a massive gate of acid-green flames. The soldiers allowed them to enter, but a handful of guards joined Hawk inside. Barely a whisper signified their presence as they fell into step beside him. They kept to the shadows, only visible by the naked blades in their hands.

 

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