by Ben Hale
If there is even the slightest difference, I will find it, he vowed. Step by step he worked his way around and backward, pointedly ignoring the jibes and mocking remarks from Draeken. But he couldn’t disregard the time. After another ten minutes, his heart raced.
Darting to the center, he looked up the vent column, and saw the sky beginning to darken through the clouds. Panic crashed through him as he realized he had only a few minutes before sunset—and Azertorn and the world of Lumineia were lost. Their sacrifice would have been for naught. His sister was probably dead, his friends were about to join her, and everyone else in the world would perish because he couldn’t figure it out! Even Liri—
No! he thought, if there is any chance she is alive, I will keep trying. Taking a deep breath, he did the only thing he could. He sat down.
Sinking into a cross-legged position, he closed his eyes and considered everything his sister had told him. Then he examined what he’d seen in the prophetic orb. Last he studied every piece of information he’d learned on his journey to this singular battle, including what his uncle had said to him.
Even while he strained to find a solution, he felt a firm resolve shape within him. Though he didn’t consciously think it, he knew what he would do.
If he didn’t find a way in time, he would do exactly what Lakonus had done.
***
Braon's gaze lingered on the waning light, even as he gave orders in what he knew was the end. Their line had been breached moments ago, and fiends were flooding into the city from countless directions. Even without draining the river, the fiends were just too many, and Braon’s forces were too small. Running, retreating, and dying, the gathered races had nowhere to go.
Braon had already ordered the women’s caverns evacuated, and the remaining army was retreating to join them. It didn’t matter. Even the long escape routes all opened into the fiend army on the cliff. Finally he fell silent. There were no more orders to give. They were done, and it appeared Taryn had failed.
Hearing an anguished cry, he turned to see Thacker on his knees. “Oh Kit,” he sobbed, “not another one. Not my daughter.”
Moving through the broken map, Braon slid to the man’s side and put his small arms around him. There was nothing to say. Soon more of his children would join their their brother and sister, and Braon felt his heart tighten when he thought of Brynn. Even though he knew it wouldn’t happen, he still hoped she would survive, somehow.
Snarls and cries of anger came from the corridors, and Braon turned to see several elves burst into view, backed into the room by the attacking fiends. Rokei leapt to the front and dispatched several, his short sword striking many as he rallied the other guards—but they could only hold for so long. One by one, they began to fall.
Soon, only Rokei remained. Bloodied and torn, he desperately defended three fronts.
Braon, exhausted, worn, and beyond all, sad, drew the small belt knife at his side. He doubted he could even slay one, but he knew it wasn’t in him to go down without a fight. His throat tight, he looked skyward, wanting to see the sky one last time. Through the enchanted ceiling, the column of light that kept the darkness at bay had diminished.
Only a sliver remained . . .
***
In the end, Taryn realized the solution must be tied to his heritage. Part dwarf, elf, and human, his bloodlines could be traced to the three races directly through his parents . . .
In that instant something clicked and his eyes snapped open. The white dragon had said that Lakonus had not been part dwarf, and so had not had the strength to perform what was necessary. The human side of him, bearing the cunning and tenacity inherit in that race, finally figured out what he must do.
Looking upward at Draeken, he said, “Goodbye Draeken.”
Before he could respond, Taryn rose to his feet and drew his father's sword. Using its magic, he began to carve a shape out of the stone at his feet. Across from him, his mirror copied his movements. Once he was finished, Taryn lifted the long section he'd cut out of the ground. With a grunt of effort he raised it until it stood vertical, and then shifted it so it abutted the one his dark self had created.
Together, they formed a pillar rising out of the center of the ring.
Hurrying now, Taryn drew his mother's bow and sent two arrows into the makeshift tower, pinning the two pieces together. It seemed stable, but he nudged it to make sure it was balanced. Satisfied, he darted to the edge of the ring and whirled to face the pillar of stone, aligning himself to face his adversary.
Ignoring the surprised protest from Draeken, Taryn sheathed Ianna and took a deep breath. Launching himself forward, he sprinted towards the center of the stone circle. With the speed of an elf, he closed the distance. Just before he reached the makeshift tower he leapt up it with the strength of a dwarf.
Running up the stone he felt the impact as his mirror did the same, and on opposite sides, they flew up the rough surface. When his momentum began to slow at the top, Taryn stepped one last time—twisted his body in the opposite direction—and jumped. With all his might he leapt out and away, towards the blank stone wall of the prison. Lifting his father’s sword as he arced downward, he plunged it into the smooth rock below the prison exit.
Brilliant blue magic flared in his weapon and smoke came from the hole—and at the same time he heard a cry of supreme anguish from the other side of the room. Hanging from his sword hilt, Taryn looked back to see Mazer's shadow sunk deep into Draeken’s chest. Enchanted and forged by both his parents to be the most powerful sword ever created, the mirror weapon shattered through the barrier that kept the Lord of Chaos bound. The perfect reflection of himself—and his weapons—his dark shade had given him an edge in this battle.
It allowed him to be in two places at once.
Draeken gasped, fighting for breath as the shadow Taryn shimmered and faded from view, leaving a ragged hole through Draeken's body. “It’s . . . not possible,” he managed to choke out, before coughing one last time. Succumbing to the gaping wound, the Lord of Chaos slumped and fell through the shattered bindings, falling into the gap between the walls of the pit and the floor.
Still hanging from his sword below the only escape from the pit, Taryn caught a glimpse of Draeken’s body disappearing into the lava below.
Chapter 35: A Light in the Dark
Braon took a deep breath, unable to tear his eyes from the sight of the darkness destroying the light in the sky above. Several emotions flitted through his heart in a matter of seconds. Anger at the fiends was replaced by guilt and a crushing disappointment for his failure. Then a slow, numbing sadness replaced everything else—
—A great wind blasted through the city. Faster than thought, it screamed through every corner of Azertorn, and everywhere it went, fiends evaporated. With his eyes still on the sky, Braon saw the point of light explode outward, driving the darkness back with tremendous power, forcing it away until the dark cloud over the fiend army was sucked into the eastern horizon.
In its place, the last vestiges of a glorious sunset remained, lighting the sky in a brilliant display they hadn’t seen in days, and with it, hope blossomed through Braon. Turning to Rokei, he felt a grin spread across his features.
Wounded and down on one knee, the elf guard that had saved both Thacker’s and Braon's life in the last few minutes, grinned right back in an expression of pure triumph.
Braon couldn’t stop the tears as he moved to the still sobbing Thacker. Raising him to his feet, he said, “It’s over!”
Overcome with grief the fisherman said, “But I have lost two of my children.”
Grabbing his shoulders, Braon said, “And yet you will lose no more!”
Thacker’s eyes widened. “Is it really over?”
Exultation shined through Braon’s blurred vision as he pointed at the sunset. “The light has prevailed!”
***
Keri tumbled backward as the fiend knocked her sprawling, wishing her exhausted limbs were stronger,
wishing she was better, and wishing she were not so afraid. Crawling for her sword, she knew the fiend behind her would slay her. The end had come, and all she wanted was to hold her family one last time.
But the expected blow did not fall. Instead, a shrieking wind exploded around her, whipping her hair and clothing in such a gale that she thought she was going to lift off the ground. Rolling onto her back, her eyes widened in astonishment as the fiend in front of her began to disappear. Evaporating like smoke in the wind, it was gone by the time she blinked.
All around her, the other black bodies were disintegrating, erased by the wind that had saved her life. Lifting herself to a sitting position, she looked out over the stone parapet on which she’d been fighting. Slain and wounded bodies littered the ground, and red blood stained the dirt, but not a single attacker remained in sight. Rising to her feet, she felt her eyes drawn towards the sunset that had burst into view. Its light cascaded outward in a warm embrace that seemed to welcome them to freedom.
The ragged cheer from her companions began to swell, and she joined in, falling to her knees as her strength left her. Thick tears welled in her eyes and coursed down her blood spattered cheeks. Overpowering her, the bottled emotions flooded out. She cried for joy that she had survived. She sobbed for all the soldiers that had died. She wept for Aron, who had defended her to his last breath. She cried for the happiness that she would get to raise her daughter . . .
And she cried in agony that her husband had not lived to see it.
***
Gaze reached skyward, and brought an arc of lightning into the mass of black bodies. Even as they were torn asunder, he leaned against the wall and vomited, nearly blacking out as he reached for the energy once more.
“Don’t do it, Gaze!” Lexi shouted, “You need to run!”
Despite her words, she drew another arrow to her ear and released, slaying another fiend that had broken through. He struggled to respond, but his tongue felt thick in his mouth. Trying to work it free, he slipped to the ground, his swirling vision focused on Lexi’s profile as she stepped closer to him and shot arrow after arrow to keep them at bay.
—Without warning a howling wind tore through the street, snatching the fiends out of thin air. In seconds, the entire black army had vanished. Clearing the city, the gale then went for the sky, devouring the black shadow that hung over Azertorn, leaving the world free of darkness as it withdrew eastward.
A brilliant sunset lit the sky, and the yellow rays of light flooded the city. His stomach roiling, his head buzzing, he succumbed.
With a smile on his lips.
***
Aléthya slammed the iron bar in place to secure the front entrance. Whirling, she raced to the next cot even as the door began to shake from heavy blows. The order had come just minutes before to evacuate upward, but most of the wounded wouldn’t survive the move.
Without exception, the healers had refused to go.
All the injured that could stand had been hurried out the back entrance and up auxiliary tunnels, leaving the four healers, and Tan, and Aléthya frantically trying to heal the rest enough to escape. Amidst the sounds of splintering wood and the muffled snarls from outside, she moved between beds, healing as fast as she could.
Pain arced through her body again and again, but she kept going. Three elves from the end of the line, she heard a great rending of metal as the door gave way. Turning, she watched the fiends pour into the room, praying her healing ability would stop so she could die quickly.
Ten feet from her, a quare leapt—but froze in midair, its teeth still bared at her. Evaporating like water in the sun, the creature disintegrated before her astonished eyes. In a flash, it had disappeared, along with every other fiend in the room.
Stunned, she heard the cries of exultation from outside. Her eyes found the door just as the shadowy light gave way to beams from the fading sun. A laugh burst from her lips at the same time tears blossomed down her cheeks, leaving lines in the accumulated grime.
Interrupting her swirling emotions, she heard a groan from behind her.
“Is it over?”
She knelt by the wounded soldier’s side, tears streaming down her cheeks, but was unable to find her voice. Reaching for his bloody chest, she healed him, hardly feeling the stabbing pain. Without a word, she moved to the next one, and after healing him, moved to the next. Uncontainable joy drove her to the last wounded elf.
The dying still needed her.
***
Murai’s katsana hung by his side, dripping with the blood of his latest victim, but there was no need to use it again. The black army had been sucked into the void, leaving the slain elves and dwarves littering the ground. Of the twenty guards that had surrounded Brynn, only he, a human female, and two dwarves were still standing.
But Brynn had survived.
Murai let out a slow breath, feeling the rush of gratitude blow away the heat of battle. His chest heaving from the brutal fight, he turned to ensure that his charge was unharmed. The woman was comforting her as she cried, so he took the time to wipe his blade clean. Methodically he ran a rag down the long blade, doing his best to control the burst of emotions within him. Each one ran its course. Only the last refused to go.
Satisfaction that he had protected Brynn.
Sadness for all the lost friends.
Joy that the war had ended.
And then worry for Taryn.
His eyes lifted to the eastern sky, carrying his heart with it.
Please let him be alive.
***
Relief flooded Taryn’s frame, and he hoped with all his might that he had succeeded in time. Glancing upward, he wondered how he was to climb the remaining distance. Then without warning a head appeared in view, nearly startling him into letting go.
“Liri?”
“Taryn?”
They spoke at the same time, and then laughed together. “Did you do it?” she asked, her voice breathless. “The fiends all vanished, so I assumed . . .”
He nodded, and her brilliant smile lifted his heart. “I knew you could do it!” she exclaimed.
He grinned wide. “Where are Trin and Mae?”
Her look said it all, and just like that, the euphoria evaporated.
“Can you drop me something?” he said, his voice sounding hollow in his ears.
She nodded and disappeared. A moment later she reappeared with a makeshift rope. Carefully, he transferred his weight to the cord, and then withdrew Mazer from its smoking hole. Its purpose fulfilled, its magic was gone, replaced with a black tinge to the metal. Sheathing it, he scaled the rope and rolled onto the ledge.
“I thought you were dead,” he said, standing to embrace her.
She swallowed against her tears. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
They held each other for a long time, each grateful to be alive—and to be together. Taryn’s mind wandered to all the friends he’d lost. Kell, Trin, Mae, and probably Siarra. He wondered if Jack were still alive, or Arrow, or anyone else at Azertorn.
“Come on,” he said, reluctantly parting from her soft embrace. “We should go.”
“Do you think many survived at Azertorn?”
He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, but I hope so.”
She clasped his hand. “Let’s go find out.”
He smiled at her, happy beyond description to see her again, yet still feeling the emptiness of loss. It was a feeling he suspected every surviving soul in Lumineia now felt. Hand in hand, they began their ascent through the now empty city. In minutes, they reached the stairs. Seeing the lifeless forms at the top, Taryn slowed, unable to bear the piercing pain. Drawing close, Taryn’s heart leapt to his throat.
Trin lay on his side, boasting several deep wounds that darkened the stone below him. Mae lay nearby, her body sprawled awkwardly. Reaching out to each other, their hands were entwined together.
“Oh Taryn,” Liri said, drawing close to him. “When Trin fell, Mae couldn’t st
op them. They drove us backward and we got separated. I . . . I did what I could, but there were too many. I should have . . ., I should have . . .”
He put his arm around her, fighting the tears that welled up in his eyes. “If you had stayed, you would be dead too.”
He felt like he had lost a sister, and Trin had proven to be a loyal friend of the highest caliber. His heart aching, Taryn realized he missed them already.
“Can we take them with us?” Liri asked. “I don’t want to leave them here.”
Taryn nodded, and with his heart bursting, he knelt and raised Trin to his shoulder. Beside him, Liri lifted Mae. With tears streaking their cheeks, they hoisted their burdens and began their ascent.
It was a long journey home.
Epilogue: From the Ashes
Taryn took a deep breath of the early morning air, enjoying the cool breeze on his face. Reaching out, he felt Liri grasp his hand.
“The repairs are coming along nicely, don’t you think?” Liri said, and he followed her gaze up to Azertorn.
From their position several hundred yards in front of the cliff, they had an excellent view of the damage that had been done to the city, and the repairs that were still in progress. Although the city had improved dramatically in the last six months, the cliff still bore the marks of the Second Draeken War.
Holes from skorpian spears littered the once smooth stone, giving the tan cliff a pock-marked look. Black burns from dwarven magic still stained the stone, bearing testament to the lengths the defenders had gone. Some sections of the cliff were broken where explosions had shattered outward, leaving large boulders littering the ground at its base. On top of the plateau little remained of the cliff-top defenses. In the distance, the remains of a solitary sweeper clung stubbornly to its post.