Circle of Reign

by Jacob Cooper

  “How?” he asked.

  “It is an Influence of the Living Light,” Reign said. “It promotes life, lengthens lives and restores corruption. All elements of the Lumenatis work toward these ends.”

  “The what?”

  “It is the power of the Ancients. What they lived by. The Living Light.”

  A Borathein rider swooped low and swung a flail at Reign. She felt his current before he neared too close and moved just enough out of reach to be missed by less than an inch. Slashing her sword above her head, her blade cut up through the Alysaar and into the rear rider’s thigh. They lost control and crashed into the trees at terminal velocity.

  “You move like…like—”

  “Like my father?” she asked.

  “Aye, lass, but so much more graceful.”

  She smiled. “He’s not offended you said that, don’t worry.”

  Aiden took a deep breath and worked his arm. “Restores corruption?”

  Reign took the Triarch leafling in the palm of her hand and knelt down upon the petrified tree canopy. There were small chasms and cracks where the once green leaves had not completely filled in and she could see down to the ground hundreds of feet below. It was also petrified. She put her hand around a cold rock branch with the leafling between it and her palm. She concentrated, focusing the Light within her and drawing in more from the Lumenatis, so much more than she though possible, more than should be possible. Thannuel gasped in amazement within her and she began to sweat with the unprecedented effort.

  “Reign, you’re trembling!” Aiden exclaimed.

  Father, I need you.

  The sentience within her added his capacity and focus to hers, acting as a reservoir for her to store the excess Light she drew in. Thannuel’s capacity seemed unfathomable to her.

  Aiden stepped back, wonder and disbelief emanating from him. Reign Kerr was alight.

  “Mylendia anthpetra shaul!”

  Her voice carried the authority of the ages as a burst of energy flew out from her. Aiden’s black hair was blown back from the gust. Below them came the sound of an avalanche. From the core of the rooted perennials sprang a resurgence of life as stone split and crumbled. The spark of life within the trees was reignited by Reign’s injection of Lumenati Light and lush foliage shone through, resurrected.

  “I can feel their currents return,” Reign said.

  “I don’t know what you mean, or how this is done, but it is incredible!” Aiden stood upon vibrant treetops once again that swayed and flexed under his weight, the way the living forest should.

  “I have reversed the Dark Influence that plagued the trees, breathing Light back into them and eradicating the Dark.”

  “Light?” Aiden asked.

  “Draw it in,” Reign commanded.

  “Draw what?”

  “The Light. You have done it before but didn’t know it.”

  When the master of the hold guard continued to look confused, Reign said, “When you speak with trees, feel the forest, it is because of the Living Light in the trees.”

  “I—”

  “Don’t interrupt,” Reign ordered. “Those who live among the trees, wood-dwellers, have this sensitivity because of our connection to the Ancients. We are the descendants of those who did not turn away, those that continued to live in harmony with the Lumenatis. We have lost much of their ways, but the Light is still strong in this land.”

  In the midst of her explanation, arrows flew toward her and Aiden from a half dozen Alysaar riders making a sweeping run. They easily dodged the missiles and saw their assailants struck down by Light-infused arrows released from Gyldenal bows. The air was still cluttered with thousands of Alysaar but their numbers had decisively thinned. A few score currents of the Gyldenal had ceased, but overall their weaponry of Light was proving superior.

  “Simply open yourself the way you do when speaking with a tree. That connection you feel is an effect of the Lumenatis. You have a portion of its Light as well, a spark. Draw it into yourself where your Light resides.”

  “I have no idea—”

  “Do it! Focus!”

  Aiden knelt down where he perched and lay his palm flush against the bark. For a few moments there was no change. Then, she saw his frame stiffen and felt his current thicken.

  “It is like friction,” Reign said. “You can channel the forest’s power as you wish.”

  He stood, taller than before with understanding in his eyes.

  “Get back in this fight!” she cried.

  The smile that so often came upon Aiden’s lips in anticipation of the thrill of battle found its way there once again. “Gladly.”

  Reign bolted across the renewed canopy. The aerial battle had changed but become no less deadly. The Warriors of Light struck down enemies with Light-infused steel and arrows with great effect and Alysaar began to fall in scores and crash into the trees. Eight Alysaar chased Reign as she ran, approaching on all sides. The roars were menacing. She slowed her dash and came to a stop while the Alysaar closed in and surrounded her like a demonic noose tightening its hold.

  Focus, Thannuel commanded. Think of nothing but this moment.

  She felt her father’s concern in the midst of the peril, but also his faith in her. It was not misplaced.

  The rear Borathein riders shot arrows, hurled spears, and slung stones. Reign felt them all. The stones came first, fractions of a second ahead of the rest of the volley. She swung the flat side of her sword and sent the projectiles back from whence they originated at increased velocity, striking the stones at the exact same angle at which sailed toward her. Short cries of pain and surprise sounded as the stones crushed the skulls of those who had cast them. Her form was perfect, no more or less motion than was precisely necessary.

  The arrows she easily dodged and parried two spears but caught a third. She allowed the momentum to spin her around, adding her own force as she released the spear back at the rider who threw it. The rider slumped forward in his saddle, a smoking hole in his chest. Several Alysaar swooped in, attempting to impale her on their bladed beards as they whipped their necks back and forth with amazing speed. They found nothing but air. Reign let herself fall beneath the canopy and shot back up as the belly of one flying beast flew directly over her position. Her sword found purchase and she continued up and through the demon, emerging from its backside with a large section of spine impaled on her sword. She was covered in demon ichor. The creature fell dead with its riders through the trees to the forest floor. At the apex of her flight, she felt the air change behind her and curled into a ball, narrowly missing the swipe of a sword. The wing of the passing Alysaar collided with her back and sent her sprawling downward through the air. Her father’s concern flared within her. She hit the branches hard, but her light weight did not carry her too far before they stopped her fall.

  She lay dazed for a moment but nothing more than bruises and a few cuts found her.

  “Are you all right?” a small voice asked.

  “I’m fine, father.” She was still dazed.

  I know. But that was not me…

  Reign looked to where the voice had come from and saw a little girl and boy, obviously related, huddled below her.

  “You healed Aiden,” the girl said. “We saw it. Are you one of the Ancients?”

  Reign shook her head as she climbed out of the crude nest of branches that had broken her fall. “No.”

  “You look like a demon!” the boy said, only to be cuffed by the girl. Reign thought she probably did indeed look like a monster, covered in blood and innards. Chunks of intestine were lodged in her ebony hair.

  “No, not that either. Just one of you,” Reign said.

  Aiden came into view, jumping from tree to tree below the cover of the canopy.

  “Reign! Are you hurt?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “But I’ve had about enough of this.” She sprang to a Triarch and put her palm flush against it, drawing in Lumenati Light. She channeled some of t
he Light into her Jarwynian sword and it sounded its now familiar low hum.

  She emerged from the canopy where the seven remaining Alysaar who had pursued her waited, circling. An image flashed through her mind from her father: a beach with black sand, fiery rocks raining down around him and ice shards streaming toward him at incredible speed. Some got through his defenses and impaled his arms. She felt faint stings from the ice shards, enough to make her look at her own arms.

  It is from the Orsarian War, Thannuel said. And then she saw what he wanted her to.

  “Faerathm!” She said and threw her sword through the air like a spear, catching a forward rider in his neck. Flames burst from him as he fell from his mount. Crouching down and tightening her muscles, Reign launched, unsheathed her sword from smoldering ruin of a man as it fell past her. She reached the Alysaar and grabbed a leg, being sure to avoid the razor-sharp talons. It was nearly thin enough at the base just above the talons for her hand to grasp all the way around. She felt Aiden’s current close to her and saw him attack another Alysaar as she dangled off the leg of her own. Aiden, masterful in his movements, soon cut the beast and its riders down. Fear friction ran through her as the creature swooped and dove, trying to shake free of her grasp, but she captured the friction, and, along with some of the Living Light within her, directed the energy to become increased strength. She twisted her wrist that held the limb and heard the soft pop of bones snapping. The creature’s other leg started clawing frantically for her. Reign reached up higher on the broken leg with her other arm to secure her hold and again twisted her other wrist in the same place she had previously. The demon screeched in pain. She continued to pull and twist until the flesh tore and the foot with its claws came free. They tore into the Alysaar’s skin as Reign dragged her makeshift bouquet of short blades across its underbelly. She dug deeper until the opening was large enough and she saw the monster’s viscera hanging free outside its body. Quickly, she scaled up the dying Alysaar to face the second rider, but he lay dead with a crater in his forehead.

  She launched from the falling Alysaar to another and was nearly struck by a thick arrow sailing toward her. Reign knocked the arrow from the sky and landed on the new beast. After quickly dispatching the rear rider’s head, she reached down to the joint where the wing and body met. She pulled, sending more Light into her muscles. Thannuel added some of his reserves. The flying monster screamed and the wing came free. They went into an uncontrolled spin and she deftly jumped off, landing softly on the sturdy canopy just before the crippled mass crashed.

  Arrows shot upward toward other flying targets. Reign traced the trajectory with her eyes and found the small girl, launching arrow after arrow, undaunted. Her accuracy was impressive. The girl was younger than Reign had been when she witnessed what she now knew would be the beginning of the path her life would take. She wondered for an instant about the future of this young archer.

  Reign sprinted, gaining speed as the air around her once again began to glow. A boom echoed as she took flight, moving too fast for gravity to have its full effect. Dozens of Borathein lay in her path. In less than ten heartbeats they were in her wake, burning, breaking and falling from her attacks. When she landed on the canopy, she was exhausted. A shiver came upon her that she struggled to control but failed.

  Your Light is spent, Reign. All that you took in and all my reserves.

  “I’m so cold,” she said. Her lips quivered. “I can’t stop shaking.”

  It’s your adrenaline. Your body is trying to warm itself. The cost of your exertion will be high, my daughter.

  A streak of panic ran through her. “I’m too weak to draw in any Light. I need time to rest.” She knew there was no time.

  I must reach Hedron! she screamed in her mind. She felt his current and knew all was not well.

  Reign watched the battle as she lay on her back looking up into the morning sky, fighting against hypothermia. The Gyldenal were taking down their enemies with efficiency. Reign thought the number of Alysaar remaining was less than a thousand. All around her the trees bore strange fruit, not only foreign but domestic—Borathein and Arlethian. The amount of lost life pained her.

  It is what must be, daughter, Thannuel said, knowing her thoughts.

  “Yet it still hurts.”

  Always. The correct path is always fraught with difficulty and trials.

  The sky was painted orange and deep blue as the morning increased and the storm clouds abated. And with that abatement, Reign saw the Borathein aerial battery retreat.

  Evrin found her where she lay.

  “You are pale, child. And your frame, it shakes.”

  “Cold,” she gasped.

  “Light is heat as well, young Reign. You will learn your limits. It appears as though you expended some of your own life’s Light, your core, in your efforts. This can be very dangerous.”

  “Hedron,” she replied. “I must go to him.”

  Evrin looked grave. “I feel his current as you do. You cannot go to him. Your part here is done for now.”

  “Please, you must be able to do something, Evrin! Please!”

  “Once, I was eager as you are now. Also prideful. I let myself be carried away in my own greatness—or what I viewed as my own greatness.” He touched the wound on his cheek. “It almost ended me, but I was spared. In truth, my motives were not pure, as yours are. Yet, I fear nonetheless for you should you continue right now. The price will be too high.”

  “Evrin, please! He’s my brother! I don’t care what happens to me!”

  The old Light Shepherd was silent for some time. Reign continued to shiver as her core temperature dropped further. She felt her father’s ambivalence as he struggled with Evrin’s warning and the desire to go to the aid of his only son.

  “Please,” Reign whispered between blue lips.

  “So be it,” Evrin said.

  The forest changed back. Rock became soft, fertile soil under Hedron’s feet and trees returned to their natural lush state. He did not understand the change but did not care. The courage this gave his people who desperately fought on the ground against overwhelming odds knew no bounds. They pressed upon the Borathein with their thin lines of nothing but militia. And, as they pressed, the Borathein were moved backward. It wasn’t the honed skills of lethal Arlethian warriors that now stood pressing back the vile conquerors; it was the farmer, the fisher, the carpenter, the merchant, the shepherd, the weaver, the healer, the husband and wife, the son and daughter. They cried with valor and pushed until the dead of their enemies masked the ground they stood upon. There was strength running through Hedron that he did not recognize but accepted all the same. Huksinai and Thurik struggled to keep up with him as he progressed farther into the horde of enemies. The wolf cubs bit and tore through flesh of every leg, groin and abdomen they could reach, weaving through the horde and causing confusion followed by pain.

  Suddenly by Hedron’s side came Gernald, striking with his sword and shoving with his shield. Other soldiers from the south rushed the line, adding their steel and shields to the effort.

  “We apologize for our moment of weakness, My Lord!” Gernald shouted.

  “Lord Hoyt?” Hedron asked.

  Gernald shook his head. Hedron knew his fiancé’s father was dead but had held hope for some miracle. A howl sounded from the north that was joined by dozens more.

  “I know that howl,” Lord Kerr said and smiled. Hedron scaled a tree to gain a vantage point and saw through the trees three-quarters of a league north of the confrontation a large pack of wolves with coats of gray, black and brindle, led by a large, pure white wolf.

  “I never thought I would be so happy to see that furry beast!”

  The wolves tore into the backs of the Borathein. Too few had sounded the alarm to form a rear defensive line but Hedron knew it would have mattered little. The cries from the wolves’ victims added to the music of battle, and Hedron’s front continued to push. Their progress was slow and the Borathein fought vici
ously; but for every Arlethian or one of Hoyt’s men that was struck down, a dozen Borathein fell.

  Hedron felt something distinct through the tree upon which he perched. It was the stride of a wood-dweller coming from the west across the apex of the trees.

  Hedron! The voice was clear, as if the word had been spoken aloud next to his ear. It was Reign’s voice, but it had come from the forest, from the trees.

  Move, Hedron! The urgency of the command struck the chords of apprehension within him. New beads of sweat surfaced on the nape of his neck, tickling his already soaked and soiled skin.

  “Pull back!” he shouted in his amplified voice. “Pull back now!”

  There was no hesitation from the Arlethians but the southern forces pressed forward. Huksinai and Thurik barked and snapped as they retreated from the throngs.

  “Gernald, pull your men back!” Hedron jumped from his vantage point roughly thirty feet to the ground and hit silently. Sprinting to Gernald, he whirled the master of the hold guard around and spoke urgently.

  “Something is coming! Pull your men back now!”

  “But we are pressing them, Lord Kerr! We must not cease!”

  “You will cease, Master Gernald! If you value the lives of your brave men, pull them back!”

  Gernald looked aghast but nonetheless obeyed. “Move back!” he commanded. “Move to the Arlethian line and regroup! Move back!”

  The southern soldiers capitulated and retreated to where the Arlethians had formed a new line a few score paces back. The Borathein were utterly confused by this move but did not hesitate to advance and regain their lost ground. Before they took more than a few steps, a howling whistle filled the air followed by a streak of light that traveled from the tops of the trees west of them and down through the forest like a meteor. It struck in the very center of the Borathein army.

  Reign catapulted herself downward through the air like an arrow shot from the bow of a god. There was the crack in the air again and sound fled from her until she hit the ground in the middle of her enemies.