by J. B. Jenn
The Desert would see a win here today. The demons were faltering. Urian was too distracted with Mercea to command his troops. They had underestimated everything. Mercea should have been in Dawn Stone and Urian should have destroyed the Desert. At least, the Desert would be weakened. Hopefully, they would be too weak to do anything against them.
For a moment, her eyes locked onto Arem. She should kill him, too. No one betrayed them and lived, but she had to focus on Trester. He was the one who could ruin everything, not Arem. Arem was more of an inconvenience than anything else.
Trester’s back was turned to her. Too easy, she thought, watching him for a moment flinging icy bolts at demons. When the bolts didn’t work, he encased the demon with ice. A few archers were focused entirely on him, shooting the frozen demons and shattering them. Rosha narrowed her eyes at the effectiveness of it.
Her dagger was in hand as she stopped behind him. Trester turned, catching her out of the corner of his eye.
“Rosha? What are you doing out here?”
A slow smile split her lips. “Killing you.” Confusion spread across his face. The dagger plunged into his stomach. He stared at her in disbelief as he fell to his knees. “I couldn’t allow any of you Stones to live and ruin my plans.”
She snapped her fingers. Her plain, beige colored desert clothes vanished and was replaced by a sparkling, green dress that accentuated her gray eyes. Her hair was no longer gray, but now a beautiful jet black color and pulled behind her. A strand of curled hair ran down each side of her face. The wrinkles around her eyes vanished. She was the woman she had been before this endeavor. The woman who had killed Rosha and assumed her identity. It seemed like a lifetime ago. De’Nae let off a small laugh enjoying appearing as herself again.
With the sound of battle around her, she watched Trester’s chest stop rising and falling. She smiled triumphantly at him before disappearing.
When she arrived in the middle of Dawn Stone, several of the non-demon servants screamed. As they backed away from her, she shook her head at them. It didn’t take long before they realized who she was. Once they did, they started bowing and offering her compliments of beauty.
“Tell my husband I’m here,” she said.
She stood in the entry way, admiring the flooring and pillars holding up the ceiling which was hand painted with a black dragon breathing fire. Over the years, she had often wondered if dragons were real. Her theory was if demons were real, it was a possibility dragons were, too. The information could be buried away, long forgotten somewhere. It was something she planned to look into once this was finished.
Footsteps stopped behind her. She turned. Her eyes met his. The smile on her lips faltered. He looked so tired. So old. She reached out and stroked his cheek, knowing this was what Verite was doing to him. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. They had promised the demon Mercea, and now, he was taking her husband because they couldn’t deliver.
“Why haven’t you contacted me?” he asked. He pulled away from her. “What game are you playing?”
“You tell me. You sent men into the Spindle Mountains after I asked you not to. You almost ruined everything.”
His looked hardened. “That doesn’t answer why you didn’t contact me.”
De’Nae sighed, shaking her head. “I couldn’t. There wasn’t a good time. Besides, love, I’m here now. Our plan is in progress. The Stones are dead, even Trester. I made certain of it.”
“Good. You can tell Verite.”
Galtrand
He could scarcely believe he had survived. There were so many dead laying in the sand. He wasn’t certain how he wasn’t one of them. As he stood there, he kept staring at where a horde of demons had stood just moment ago. The demons were so close to overwhelming them and then there was nothing.
Galtrand looked back toward the palace. The feeling of dread he’d received shortly before the height of battle was still with him. He sprinted toward the palace, leaping over dead bodies. As he entered the courtyard, his face paled and his legs weakened.
There were soldiers crowded around someone. Shoving through them, he saw her lying there in her own blood. Her legs and spine were twisted.
Galtrand’s legs couldn’t respond. His breath caught in his throat. She was supposed to have been safe inside the palace walls. Hyal was supposed to protect her. His legs gave out. He fell against the stone, unable to tear his gaze from her.
“Janessa?” He watched Maik kneel next to her, scooping her body into his arms. Tears streamed down the Desert King’s face. “She’s…” He stroked her cheek with shaking fingers. He drew her broken body to him.
“Who did this?” Galtrand asked, rising. He looked accusingly to everyone. The men shifted uneasily. “Answer me! Who did this?
“We didn’t see anything,” Hyal answered. “We were so focused on killing the demons and not allowing any of them inside. We thought we were all safe within the walls. A full investigation will be held.” The overweight man closed his eyes before staring at Janessa. “I’m so sorry.”
“You should be. It was your responsibility to protect her.” Hyal started to say something, but the look Galtrand gave him stopped him. Galtrand’s eyes fell on Janessa’s pale body. “I should have remained behind. I should have never left her side. This wouldn’t have happened had I remained here.” He put his hand against the wall to steady himself as he watched everything around him.
Once his eyes landed on Janessa again, he slid down the wall. Tears streamed down his face.
Ogden
There was peace all around him, gently pulling at him. He was compelled to follow it. The moment he moved, he found himself staring down at his body. At first, he was horrified. His wife and child would live alone. He closed his eyes in regret, knowing he’d never see them again. He’d never see his son grow into a man. He’d never make love to his wife again. All of it was over, and yet, peace surrounded him. He had given his life, so others, including his family, could have theirs. He’d do it a hundred times over.
The peacefulness was pulling at him again, willing him away from his body. Once again, he looked down at it, marveling at the fact he could see it through Urian’s massive, black body. He didn’t want to leave. He desired to stay and see his son grow. He wanted to draw Hethera into his arms and kiss her slowly. There was so much he wanted to do. He desired to ensure Hartland was safe, but he had to leave his body behind. Soon enough, it’d decay. He had paid the ultimate sacrifice.
Just as he was about to turn away, he saw Mercea rush over. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he watched her fall to her knees and cry for him. It was difficult to imagine such a strong, formidable woman crying. He wouldn’t have believed it unless he had seen it.
The urge came to him to move away from his body, but he couldn’t. “No,” he told whatever it was trying to urge him away. The force pushed him. “I said NO!” he bellowed moving back toward his body against the invisible force.
Wait. The single word hadn’t been spoken. It was more of an echo inside his mind.
No. He’s too attached to those who still live. It’s too dangerous.
He’s strong willed. He’s brave. He knows what must be done. And, he’s already willingly sacrificed himself to save others, despite those attachments. He did this, knowing he’d never see his wife and child again. He is a Servant.
“Who’s there?” Ogden asked. He could feel the presence of multiple beings. Whoever they were, they were powerful. “Show yourself. Please.”
I still think it’s a mistake.
Mercea needs help to keep her on the right path. This is the beginning.
If it’s a mistake, it can be revoked.
Mercea
Mercea shot out of the sand, gasping and spitting. There was no one around her. From the scorch marks in the sand around her, it was evident there were demons surrounding her. She looked to the archers grateful they had saved her life.
As she looked about the desert, she saw several p
eople gathered in the distance. She ignored them. When her eyes landed on Urian, she raced across the sand. She fell to her knees.
“Ogden,” she whispered, “you fool. You should have never done this. It was my responsibility. Not yours.” Tears slid down her narrow cheeks. Others joined her. They stood behind her in silence. Mercea took in a deep breath. “Rest easy, my friend,” she whispered. “You died a hero and Hartland shall remember it as so.”
She stared at the black beast. She knew Urian’s body would disappear as it had last time. He was always slow to leave, but he would leave. He was defeated and by laws forced on their kind, he was held to it. Once Urian left, she would see Ogden was buried with the highest honor.
“There are so many,” she heard one of them say. “So many died today.”
Mercea turned to the soldier. “We need to gather all the soldiers and identify as many as we can. We need to ensure they are sent to the afterlife with dignity.”
As she began toward the palace, Urian’s body shifted.
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About the Author
Author J.B. Jenn started a writing career back in Casper, Wyoming. It was where the Trilogy of the Wolf was first published under J.A.J. Hutchisson and J.L. Hutchisson. Now, the author lives in Savannah, GA.
J.B. Jenn writes science fiction and fantasy, with a leaning toward fantasy. The love of swordplay, magic duels, mythical creatures, and anything else the imagination can think of leads to the absolute love of fantasy. There is also a great fondness for tea, great books, video games, role playing, and the unending search of knowledge.
Other books by this Author
Trilogy of the Wolf
Full Moon Rising
The Curse
Prophecy’s End
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