“Aeli!” Maedoc shouted as he approached on horseback. He was disheveled and panting, having become overwhelmed with the excitement of battle. “How fare the others?”
“They battle the Enkhatar at the temple!” she replied.
Maedoc nodded, pursing his lips, and rode off into the forest. Aeli knew he was anxious to assist them, but worried for his health. However, as he rode by, she silently cast a spell to give him strength. Allora had made her way over to her and her magic trailed Maedoc as well.
“I worry for him,” Aeli said.
Allora smiled, giving Aeli comfort with a hand to the shoulder. “He will be fine,” she assured her friend. “He would not rest if he were to sit back and allow the rest of us to do the work.”
She was right. Maedoc had dedicated his life to protecting the kingdom through any means necessary. From what she had heard, he was willing to sacrifice his own life to help win the battle at Morduin. She loved him greatly, almost as much as she had the elder Jodocus.
“Come,” Allora said, sensing Aeli’s thoughts. “We should find Jodocus.”
The moorcat stood over Jhayla’s body, his heart heavy with grief. He stared in wonder at the familiar sword that jutted from her heart. Its cross guard bore the symbol of Ferrin’s house, and the blade was etched with the creed of the Thieves’ Guild. It was Adder’s sword, he knew, and Adder had killed her.
He looked at her face lovingly, knowing that the ranger captain had only done what he could do to prevent her from becoming the undead. The gash on her shoulder told him that she had been bitten, and it would only have been a matter of time before she too would have been laden with the curse. It was a very heart-wrenching thought. It was definitely something she did not deserve.
The sound of crunching leaves behind him caught his attention, but he did not turn. He knew it was Jodocus. The young boy had sensed trouble, and had come to investigate. Knowing the boy’s history with Adder and Jhayla, the moorcat knew that he would grieve as well. Jhayla was a second mother to him, and Adder had been “Uncle Adder.”
“How hard it must have been,” Jodocus whispered, kneeling down next to Jhayla’s body, “to kill his best friend.”
The moorcat sat on his haunches, hanging his head in sorrow. “He would be shattered,” he said. “I know how much he loved her. I could feel it in his soul.”
Jodocus began to weep silently. The moorcat could feel his sorrow, and it was great. He padded over to the young boy, offering his furred haunches for comfort. Jodocus grasped the scruff of his neck and buried his face in the moorcat’s mane. Though barely able to contain his own grief, he knew that Jodocus had a special bond with both of them. He would take it very hard.
He sat again, leaning his massive head against the boy’s.
Together, they grieved in silence.
Khalid’s blades rang in magical splendor as they repeatedly impacted the Enkhatar’s armor. Despite its dark nature, the blades were beginning to damage the armor’s black surface. The Enkhatar continued to shriek in frustration as the priest’s relentless attacks pummeled it over and over again. Though driven, Khalid was growing weary, and the attacks came slower and more burdened. However, he was not about to give up.
The Enkhatar managed to bring up its mace, pushing back against the priest’s blades and driving him away. The creature then swung, driving the heavy weapon downward. Khalid rolled out of the way, barely escaping the crushing blow. The Enkhatar struck again, this time swinging its weapon from side to side. Khalid jumped back to dodge, then rolled forward. The dark knight’s mace slammed into the ground behind him as he rolled up onto his feet and thrust his blades upward. His right scimitar pierced the chain mail between the breastplate and waist, and Khalid could feel the dry flesh give way.
The Enkhatar reeled in pain as Khalid withdrew and rolled away. As he rose, the form of Erenoth appeared against the orange sky, grasping the creature’s shoulders. The Enkhatar dropped its mace, reaching up with its clawed gauntlets to swipe at the attacking dragon. Erenoth clamped his mouth down on the Enkhatar’s helmet, belching flame that engulfed the creature’s head. Khalid charged, slashing repeatedly at the wound he had left before.
Tenegal ducked and dodged his foe’s weapon, skillfully countering when he could. The Enkhatar’s frustration was obvious, as it hissed and screeched during its attacks. One crushing blow came out of nowhere, barely missing the Alvar captain. He jumped back, drawing and firing his bow in one single motion. The arrow streaked into the Enkhatar’s faceplate, sending it reeling back in a fit of rage. Dark energy spewed from its wound as it thrashed around.
Staring into the creature’s fiery red eyes, Tenegal slowly drew back again. He carefully leveled his line of sight, waiting for the moment to release his charged arrow. When the creature stood up again, preparing to charge, Tenegal loosed.
Farouk slashed the empty air as he dodged a powerful swing. Sulemain, enraged, swung backhanded immediately, his mace narrowly missing Farouk’s head. Torak attacked from inside the attack radius, thrusting his blade toward Sulemain’s exposed waist. The Enkhatar lord swept the shaman’s blade aside with his free arm, turning to deliver a powerful downward blow with his mace. Torak dodged, slinging a spreading mass of purple energy that splashed on Sulemain like blood. The glowing plasma ignited as it touched Sulemain’s armor, sending the creature into another wild series of swings.
Khalid withdrew his blade and immediately rolled back. The Enkhatar staggered, swatting at Erenoth as the dragon thrashed its head from side to side. The priest’s jaws were clamped tightly around the armored head, and his wings flapped furiously.
Khalid, breathless, felt the odd sensation he had felt earlier. This time, he knew it his body wanting to transform. He knelt, allowing the power of the Dragon to overcome him. When he had transformed, Erenoth let go of the Enkhatar’s head, flying upward and shouting to Khalid.
“Let loose your flame!” he growled.
Khalid reared back, taking in the massive amount of air required. Then, he and Erenoth release their breath together, bathing the dark knight in dragon’s fire. The armor ignited; smoking and blistering as its wearer thrashed and roared into the air.
Tenegal’s arrow struck home, exploding with magic as it disappeared into the Enkhatar’s helmet. Dark energy burst outward, exploding the Enkhatar’s head in a blast that knocked the Alvar captain from his feet. He lay back, watching as the foul creature staggered forward. Wisps of spirit energy swirled around it, dissolving the dark steel into a cloud of glowing plasma.
The Enkhatar fell to its knees as its armor disintegrated. Clumps of withered metal fell away, exposing the mummified flesh underneath. Tenegal stood, blade poised to strike. With a cry of “Alvheim!” he struck, splitting the creature in two. It exploded in a cloud of dust and dark magic that once again threw the captain from his feet.
Tenegal gasped for air as he lay on the ground, his vision slowly fading into blackness.
Sulemain raised his mace high over his head as his attackers circled around him. Farouk stopped to retrieve his staff, waiting for the Enkhatar to strike. Torak stood at the creature’s flank, knowing exactly what was about to happen. As Sulemain swung downward, Farouk waved his staff before him. Three balls of glowing energy exploded onto the ground, erupted into tall, humanoid forms.
The defilers immediately thrashed their tentacles, wrapping them around Sulemain’s mace. Farouk stepped back as the divine creatures crushed the weapon in their grasp and directed their power toward the raging Enkhatar. Sulemain was blasted with Theia’s power, and he stumbled back as his armor was shattered.
Weakened and helpless, the Lord of the Enkhatar fell to his knees.
“Now!” Farouk shouted.
Torak charged, twirling on his feet to gain momentum as he swung the Keeper’s blade. Sulemain’s head was struck from its bony neck. The defilers attacked, snapping their tentacles at the Enkhatar’s remains. They tore apart piece by piece as the two men backed away. Sul
emain’s dark energy leached into the air, floating toward the defilers as they fed upon him.
Sulemain was finished.
Khalid and Erenoth transformed, fleeing the flaming Enkhatar. Behind them, the force of the creature’s body exploding threw them to the ground. Shards of dark steel shot through the air, whizzing past them as they shielded themselves. When the remains collapsed, they rolled over to assess the damage.
There was nothing left but a smoldering pile of dust.
“Well,” Khalid said. “That’s that.”
Erenoth chuckled, pouncing to his feet and helping Khalid up with a firm hand.
“It appears the others have been successful as well,” he replied.
Khalid was relieved to see that everyone else was accounted for. Farouk and Torak had defeated Sulemain, and Tenegal had won his battle. The Alvar, however, was a little worse for the wear. He lay on his back, alive but stunned, it appeared. Farouk was the first to reach him, and knelt next to him while the others gathered around.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Tenegal’s eyes fluttered open and he stared up at the druid. “I am well, my friend,” he said. “But I think my back is broken.”
Farouk laid a comforting hand on his forehead. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Khalid here is a wonderful healer.”
Maedoc rode into the temple grounds just as the sun was beginning to rise over the eastern horizon. A strange fog still rolled about in the courtyard, and there was still a chill in the air. The grounds were littered with the bodies of the dead, as well as strange piles of insectoid material that the seer could not identify. He gasped as he saw the carnage.
Ahead, he saw Khalid and the others. He was thankful to see that they were still alive. They were, however, carrying someone between them; supporting him from underneath with locked hands. It would be Tenegal, he guessed, injured or killed in battle. He hoped the Alvar captain was still alive.
“Maedoc!” Khalid shouted as the seer rode up. “It’s good to see you. We could use your help with cleaning up this mess.”
Maedoc chuckled. “I see you had your fun without me,” he joked, motioning toward the countless bodies. “I hope everything is alright.”
“Tenegal is injured,” Farouk said. “But we can heal him. Where did you come from?”
“I brought the new Mordumarc with me from Morduin,” Maedoc said, dismounting. “Lords Ferrin and Galen have come. The wights have been destroyed.”
“Good,” Farouk replied. “Then Eirenoch is safe. We will take Tenegal into the temple to rest and heal, and then I must find Allora. We have more work to do on Alvheim.”
“Are you prepared for such a task?” Maedoc asked, dismounting. “Do you have everything you need?”
“I believe so,” the druid replied. “And I will take Torak and Jodocus with us.”
Maedoc looked at Torak. He was unknown, yet seemed strangely familiar. “I am not acquainted with Torak,” he said. “Are you a druid?”
Torak smiled, lowering his head. “I am not,” he said. “But I hope you and I will become friends in the future. Jodocus says you may have books you are willing to part with.”
Maedoc chuckled. “My library is yours to peruse, my friend,” he said. “And if it makes you feel any better, your past has been forgotten.”
Torak shifted his gaze to Farouk, raising his brow in question.
Farouk grinned. “He is a seer,” he said. “Very little gets past him.”
Chapter Twenty Two
Kingu’s spirit burned deep within the Dragon’s body. Though the pain was intense, the Firstborn barreled on, blasting through the impossibly thick bedrock that encased the spirit of the Great Mother. He had traveled for days to reach the core, passing through countless caverns, subterranean oceans, and strange pockets of thick, black liquid that ignited as he passed through.
Despite the flames that now engulfed his form, the torment caused by the energy of the alien spirit made the former seem like a mere annoyance. Kingu’s anger and hatred surged through his body like the molten rock around him, tearing his insides to shreds, and threatening to drive him mad. His only comfort was knowing that soon he would be in the loving arms of the Great Mother.
But not before fulfilling his promise.
He burst through the final layers with a shower of stone that quickly vaporized as it tumbled down toward the blinding fires of the Earth. He immediately spread his wings, slowing his fall and leveling out over the star-like core. Though he was still hundreds of miles above its molten surface, the heat singed the Dragon’s scales, sending more pain throughout his disintegrating body.
When he finally gained his bearings, Dagda shifted his vision to block out the light, leaving the core to appear as a boiling sea of green and yellow liquid. It churned and rumbled like a raging ocean, with long tendrils of plasma that seemed to reach out to snatch him from the air.
He flew as high above the surface as he could; hugging the rough underside of the mantle to keep away from the heat. He dodged odd formations that jutted downward, flying through the gaps in the massive structures, and avoiding falling boulders the size of mountains. Even on the inside of the Earth, there were mountain ranges larger than any on the surface.
He focused his senses on his target, ignoring the fascinating sights around him. He could feel the presence of Absu here; it was a vague sensation of nothing. Nothing, or darkness, he couldn’t tell which. It was ahead, many thousands of miles away.
Could he make it before Kingu’s hatred consumed him?
Dagda, Gaia spoke. You are here. My child is here.
“Yes, Mother,” he assured her. “I have come. Lead me to your tormentor.”
Follow your instincts, child. You will know where to go.
The Dragon roared into the massive core, shaking the rough stone overhead as he passed. “Fear not,” he said. “Your suffering will end.”
There were no more words from the Great Mother, only the feeling of great relief she sent to him. He felts its warmth, but also felt her growing sense of despair. She was worried for him, he knew, but she had accepted his fate. It was for the greater good. His sacrifice would save everything on Earth.
The pain grew greater, not only from Kingu’s spirit, but from the flames as well. To any outsider, he would have appeared like a falling star arcing across a stone sky. And that he was. But the excruciating pain of hatred and anger had no match; not even the fires of the Earth. The Dragon could feel himself coming apart as it tore away at him.
“No,” he whispered. “Not yet.”
He forged ahead, furiously beating his wings in an effort to cover more distance. The feeling of darkness was growing stronger, and he knew it was not far. Even through the blinding light of the false sun below, he could see a glimmer of something stretching from the roof to the molten core. It was a tendril of energy; the proboscis of a divine and hellish creature of darkness.
Absu.
The Dragon roared again, bearing his claws in anger. He focused on the tendril as it grew larger and more sinister. He could see several of them clumped together around a larger one; twisting and braiding themselves with one another as they absorbed Gaia’s spirit. Waves of life energy shot upward through them, only to disappear into the mantle above; to Absu’s abode.
“Soon, Mother,” he said. “You will be free.”
A sudden blast within his body threw him off course. The pain shot through him, threatening to burst him from inside. He cried out in agony; not the formidable roar of a beast, but the whimper of a wounded dog.
He was dying. Kingu was killing him.
“Not yet!” he cried out.
Determined to reach his target, he shot forward with divine speed. The flames trailed behind him, along with scales and spines that broke off of his body. They, too, became consumed by the flames. He ignored the pain, focusing his attention on the swirling mass of energy that clouded the approaching tendrils. It burned him even further as he passed through it,
and even the flames died out from the strange nature of the energy field.
Suddenly, swirls of dark matter formed around him, gathering together into the fearsome shapes of dragon-like creatures. They attacked, rending the Dragon’s body with their dark claws, and shrieking unearthly cries that stung his very soul. He opened his maw, releasing divine flame into their midst. They scattered, only to reform in other places and resume their attacks.
Again, their claws tore at his flesh, adding to the building pain. He held back his cries, focusing his attention on the nearest tendril. With a cry of rage, he clenched his fangs into the purplish strand, biting down into the pure, tangible energy.
The surge of power jolted his body violently. He suffered through the pain, refusing to let go until the tendril had been broken. He beat his wings furiously, ignoring the dark creatures that swirled in anger around him. Finally, the tendril gave way, and he tore it apart with a powerful lurch of his massive head.
As he backed away, the ends of the severed tendril flailed around, shooting jets of both dark and light magic off into the void. Then, the ends retracted; one end disappearing into the rock above, the other falling back into the molten core.
He could hear the Great Mother sigh, and a surge of her power shot upward to bathe him in its comfort. Renewed, he clamped on to another tendril. There were two left, and another larger and darker spout that appeared as a giant tornado. He bit down again, ignoring the surge of pain, and ripped away the second. It, too, shriveled and collapsed. Roaring with determination, he leaped across to the last one, ripping it to shreds with little effort.
The pain of Kingu’s presence surged again, pressing outward from inside. The Dragon cried out once more, knowing that nothing mattered now. It was time to let Kingu’s rage escape. It was the only way to destroy the last remaining link.
He bore down on the vortex, clamping onto its swirling mass with his divine claws. He paused, feeling the pain of death approaching. In his mind, he saw Eamon, sword in hand, vanquishing his enemies. The entire world was behind him, it seemed, united together to destroy the beast that threatened their existence. Eamon was unstoppable. He was their hope. He was their savior.
Eclipsing the Darkness (The Dragon Chronicles Book 5) Page 19