by D N Meinster
Spira was caught off guard, but shifted away mid-tackle. She rematerialized at Grace's side.
Amelia was reluctant to hurt Grace, but conceived of a way to possibly end the fight. An icy wind blew through the damaged corridor, frosting over what remained of the stone walls. The frost then overtook her adversaries, with bits of ice forming on their clothes and staffs. Amelia willed it to grow even colder, hoping she could freeze them both where they stood.
Spira did not seem concerned at all, and sent Grace forward to interrupt Amelia's objective. Her congealing limbs moved slowly, and before she was even close, a man crashed through the floor and got in her way.
Hatswick had broken through the floor but somehow left it intact. His trilby hat was askew and his black-and-yellow cloak was scorched and partially unraveled. He lay there for a minute before picking himself up and leaning on his staff. "It's damn cold in here," he said as he observed what he had landed in the middle of. "So, you too?"
Amelia wasn't sure what he meant before another mage shifted into the hall. Cillian was still clad in shabby garments, but he was clutching a staff that had once been destroyed. It was tawny, with a top that resembled a torch, though instead of fire there was a magnificent crystal inside. "Did you recruit her?" he asked upon seeing Grace near his foe.
"Not in the way you're thinking," Spira replied.
Hatswick backed up until he was at Amelia's side. "We should be able to take them, shouldn't we?"
Amelia didn't have an answer. They could stop her from leaving, and they could stop her from winning. It was possible that they had been outmatched. "Try not to hurt Grace." She ran at the pair of sin mages and a blade of light shot out of her staff.
Spira and Cillian dodged, and then let Grace retaliate. She flung her staff and it transformed into an iron spear as it sailed at Amelia.
The Grand Mage willed Grace's spear under her own influence and sent it back at her friend. Instead of piercing her, it curled around her and compressed. She didn't even resist the binding as it left her completely immobile.
Hatswick dashed toward the sin mages, but they pointed their staffs at the floor and it crumbled as he ran.
All of the mages fell toward the next floor. Four of them shifted to the ground below. Only Grace had to endure the hard landing. She smashed into a wooden table and landed on her side.
Amelia ran over to check on her as soon as she shifted into the room. She was relieved to find Grace alive, but her friend remained under Spira's control.
Hatswick was already flinging tables and chairs at the sin mages. They were surrounded by them, as they had wound up in the dining hall.
But Spira and Cillian easily knocked them out of the way.
Cillian cracked the ground as he thrust his staff downward and tried to topple his opponents off their feet.
The room shook but Hatswick and Amelia kept their balance.
With a few whirls of her staff, Amelia lifted up the fragments of stone and wood that decorated the room and willed them to fold in on the sin mages.
For a moment, she thought she had finally bested them, but all wreckage turned to dust.
"What is all this commotion?" Olley bellowed as he shifted into the room. Quentin followed, as did another mage, Pila.
"Cillian?" Quentin recognized his former colleague as the dust settled.
"Spira!" Pila called out, aiming her slim turquoise staff at her.
"What are you all doing here?" Amelia screeched. "Go help the king!"
They all turned to face her, and seconds later, all of their eyes glossed over and lost any hint of color or individuality. Even Hatswick had succumbed to Spira's influence.
Spira walked over to Grace, and with a touch of her own staff, Grace's staff uncurled itself and reformed. Grace stood back up, and then they all closed in on Amelia.
"This is what you had planned." Amelia finally recognizing what was happening. "You're a distraction. Keep us from fighting Neanthal, and he can't lose."
"Poor, dimwitted Amelia," Spira replied. "There is no one in all of Ghumai that can defeat Neanthal."
"He just didn't want to take that chance," Cillian said, confirming her theory.
"Aergo dies today," Spira said.
"As will every mage that refuses to join us," Cillian added.
"Starting with you and your friends. Do you want to kill them? Or should they kill you first?"
Amelia squeezed her staff and considered her options. They were all closing in on her, and she couldn't escape by shifting. There was only one workable decision.
After a deep breath, she whispered "There's a reason I'm the Grand Mage." Amelia's eyes lit up in a green radiance, as did her two channeling crystals.
Quentin went in first for the attack, his staff outstretched and glowing.
A burst of green energy emerged from Amelia's staff and enveloped Quentin. He dropped to the floor, his body smoldering.
The rest of them weren't going to attack one at a time. They all directed their staffs at the Grand Mage, including Spira and Cillian.
No mage had ever maneuvered so rapidly without shifting. Fireballs, lightning, shards of ice, and beams of light were all forming on their staffs as Amelia began her final assault. She was a green blur, one that refused to break despite the odds.
First, she evaded the growing flames at the tip of a curly turquoise staff, and then let loose a power that sent Pila soaring.
Next, she directed her green energy on Grace, whose ice shattered as Amelia hurled the energy on top of her and flattened her against the ground.
The lightning buzzed on Hatswick's staff as he prepared to shock her with its power. But the lightning became green as Amelia willed it under her control. It overcame Hatswick and brought him down where he stood.
Olley's beam of light was already on its way toward her, but Amelia's own energy enveloped it and him, before shooting him off toward the remains of the floor above.
Cillian recoiled as Amelia directed her might towards him. With a vertical slice of her staff, the replica of his old staff shattered, sending Cillian and his orange wreckage across the dining hall.
And, lastly, came Spira. Amelia's green energy reached out for her, but the sin mage began to fade away before she was hit, giving off only a look of scorn before she disappeared completely.
With her opponents defeated, the green light that had engulfed Amelia was extinguished and she plopped herself onto the piles of debris. Tremors shot through her body, and she had little desire to do anything but lay there and hope she hadn't killed anyone.
The sin mages had been defeated, but there was a chance they had succeeded in their greater purpose. Aergo may have already lost on the battlefield. Neanthal could be on his way. Her limbs resisted her urge to get up, but she kept willing them to, and eventually they obeyed.
Even if the King was alive, she worried she didn't have the power left to turn the tide of the battle. But she could potentially rescue him. He could govern in exile while they regrouped. Neanthal's time on Kytheras' throne would be extremely limited.
Getting to her feet, Amelia noticed she wasn't the only mage stirring. Hatswick was inching himself upwards, though wisps of smoke continued rising from his body. Amelia rushed over and helped him stand back up.
"What happened?" he asked, holding his forehead like he had the worst migraine imaginable.
"Not important," Amelia replied. "You need to check on everyone in this room. Get the living to the Islands. And find any of our younger students and get them there, too. Do you understand?"
Hatswick's arm dropped to his side and his staff rose into his hand. "Yeah, but – "
Amelia began to shift as soon as she heard his affirmative response. The ruins of the dining hall faded away, until she was once again surrounded by soldiers. This time, they did not disappear, but grew more solid until she was fully among them.
These men were not waiting for battle any longer. No, they were running from it. Thousands in plaincl
othes and guardian armor were fleeing into the decimated Outer. She knew what had happened before she even saw it.
Prince Shine was on the ground, groveling, and right before him, the Head Guardian Rantiford was engaged with a being she recognized instantaneously as Neanthal. He was toying with Rant, pretending to let him get the upper hand, before, with one blow, he shattered his sword and left him defenseless.
Rant was one more hit away from meeting the same end as the King. Amelia shifted between the combatants, and her staff blocked Neanthal's strike.
"You're too late," Neanthal stated before vanishing.
Amelia glanced down to see Aergo's head separated from his body, sinking further into a pool of blood. She could not revive the King, but she could at least make him whole. With a light tap, the head situated itself back on Aergo's neck and stayed there, like it had never been cut.
Shine was too distraught to even notice. His face was soaked with tears, and he seemed not to care about the dark army that was overtaking his own.
"Prince Shine," Rant tried to get through to him. "Shine. Come on." He started shaking Aergo's oldest.
Amelia slipped two fingers into her mouth and let out a whistle that reverberated throughout the city. Less than a minute later, she spotted the pegasus she had summoned heading toward them.
"Rant," Amelia said. "Ride my pegasus and lead what remains of Aergo's men to the Twilight Islands. I will take Shine there myself."
"What makes you think we'll be safe there?" Rant asked.
"I will make sure we are." Amelia's pegasus landed, and she tapped on its back to encourage Rant to climb on.
His reluctance was obvious as he stared at it, and it seemed like he would have rather stayed with her. "Go on," she urged.
Rant climbed onto the back of the winged horse, but before he departed, she had one last question for him. "Did Aergo send the rest of his family there?"
"Yes," Rant answered. "Queen Eloris and Prince Slythe are already on the Islands."
Amelia watched Rant take off into the air, relieved that at least the rest of the Tunsev family was safe. When he was out of sight, she turned her attention to Shine and kneeled down to his level. "My Prince," she said, trying to get him out of shock. "We need to leave." Men all around them were being attacked by the most awful creatures. She pushed her staff toward him. "Please grab on."
Shine didn't seem to hear her, and she had no time to get through. Amelia snatched his hand, and, without any resistance, she manipulated his fingers around her staff. She then snatched Aergo's hand and forced it onto her staff as well. The warzone faded away, and, in its place, a warm beach ornamented with palm trees came into view.
Gentle waves replaced the horrific sounds of dying men. The occasional squawk of a gull drove the ubiquitous death from her mind. That was, until she looked down.
Shine had swaddled himself around Aergo's body, and was not about to let go. Amelia doubted he had even realized they now rested on sand and not grass.
After a brief review of the environment, she was satisfied that the Prince was safe. There was no need to drag him inland. Neanthal had already gotten what he wanted. If he had wanted Shine dead, he wouldn't have played with Rant.
She hoped she was right about that as she started to fade away. Amelia shifted to the other side of the island, where Kytheras was in full view beyond Traverse Bridge. Miles of stone laid out a path over the Endless Seas, straight from the ends of the city to Aergo's favorite destination. It was a Bellish wonder; one of the first collaborations between Belliore and Kytheras. It was now the last salvation for any that wished to hold true to the ancient ideals.
Men were already racing across the bridge, hoping to get to the other side before Neanthal's monsters could catch them. Rant was within her sights again, flying above the guardians and yelling at them to hurry.
Amelia waited patiently as the first few darted onto the Islands. They looked to her for directions, and she merely pointed further inland.
Enough men came screeching across that they overcame the sounds of the seas. Their boots stamped on the stone and their armor clanged against one another. The entire bridge appeared to be occupied. There were many in green, some in blue jackets, and others altogether without uniform. Some had apparently rushed home to take their families with them. More had been concerned with their own welfare. She chose not to judge. This was war.
When, at last, the vestiges of Aergo's army crossed onto the Twilight Islands, Rantiford landed beside Amelia. "What now?" he asked.
Far on the other side, demibeasts and plated had begun to march toward them. Amelia raised her staff horizontally above her head. Her arm still ached, but she kept it up as she willed the seas to follow her command.
Instantaneously, the waves grew rough, crashing into the stone and splattering the bridge with salty water. The vicious current surged into the manmade obstruction, hitting it harder and harder, until bits of rock finally peeled away from the structure.
But that wasn't enough. The seas continued on in anger, as if they had finally had enough of man's interference in their waters. One massive wave rolled out of the seas, taking the bridge and any creature that dared cross it at that moment into their depths.
Amelia felt no pride in doing away with such a creation. She looked on in melancholy, as the waters swallowed any remnants of Traverse Bridge. It was like it had never been there.
"Now," Amelia said, tucking her staff beneath her arm, "we live here. For as long as we can."
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Second Key
Fair Forest and the fields that bordered it had never been so quiet. Not only had the critters that inhabited the land gone silent, but the violent men who defiled the terrain with blood and bodies had ceased their vile acts and yielded to their new empress.
Simma was at once flattered and horrified by the scene playing out before her eyes. By revealing her family's greatest secret, she had nudged the empire towards peace. But she had also irrevocably harmed two men she had always considered to be her brothers. She could not see their faces while their heads were arced, but she knew the agony of their father's deception would be evident in their expressions. Could they ever forgive her for this? Or was losing them the price for saving Faunli?
How she wanted to soothe their concerns and justify her own actions to them. Surely, they could be made to see that what she did was necessary.
However, this was hardly the moment to begin that conversation. There were legions of men awaiting her words. What was she to say to them? She could order them all to return home, but what then? Were they to pretend that this civil war had never happened?
She should have prepared a speech. Simma had been so fixated on ending the war that she hadn't planned for what would come if she actually did it. She was going to have to improvise.
"My people," Simma called out to them in her native tongue. Her voice carried far in the hushed atmosphere, as all had waited to hear from her. She kept her words steady and spoke more emphatically than she might in normal parlance. "Emperor Boramo was a great man who often sought guidance from our ancestors. He believed in tradition, as so many of us do. And in our traditions, it has always been the eldest son that becomes emperor. But what was to happen if the Emperor had no heir? I do not condone my father's actions, but I understand them."
She had to defend her father. This may have been his fault, but he was only doing what he thought was best; what he thought Faunli needed.
Simma headed toward the motionless battalions. "How could he have predicted this war that my brothers so needlessly started? We have been at peace since the Liberation. We have upheld our traditions. They had never before led to this chaos."
How much should she condemn them? She would not be party to an execution. But they deserved the blame for this.
"Luewen and Kuwain are Korona by adoption. And they have shamed the family that took them in." She glanced back before forging onward. "May our ancestors forgive y
ou."
Simma spotted Rikki's companions amongst the assembly. Their odd clothes and unique weapons made them stand out from the masses. She now had a direction for her mindless pacing.
"I am the last blood relation of a dynasty that has lasted for three hundred years. The throne in Radite is mine by right! If any of you dare challenge me, do so now. There will not be another civil war in this land while I am empress!"
Not a soul moved. She did not expect them to. These men had given her their allegiance the minute they stopped fighting.
"We have a mighty task before us. Cleaning up Faunli will not be easy. There are homes to rebuild. Families that need to be brought back together. But it starts here. Right on this field. If we can forgive each other, and forgive my brothers, then we are once again charting a more perfect course. Minutes ago, you were ready to kill one another. I ask that you remember why you had not attempted that until this day. You are all Fauns. And that is more important than any petty differences that have convinced you otherwise."
Simma finished her walk when she was within feet of Doren and Aros. Neither noticed how close she was, as they were both bowing like the rest of the people around them.
"Many of you may be aware of another secret that was never meant for your ears. After the Liberation, we were told the other kingdoms were unreachable. That was a lie; a deception meant to prevent a repeat of the Dark Reign. Now that so many of you know the truth, I can tell you another. Not only is Kytheras within reach of all in this empire, but here with us right now are three Kytherans that have helped bring about this peace."
Doren and Aros finally looked up and caught Simma's eye. She gave them a reassuring smile and continued.
"There is much animosity between our two lands, even though we have been separate for three centuries. Today, I believe, we can finally put this antagonism to rest. Without these Kytherans, not only would this war continue, but the ancient terror known as Sarin would still be burning our towns and massacring our children. We owe them a debt, one that I do not intend to let linger."