by Victor Kloss
Ben grabbed his friend’s hand and shook it hard. “Wistletop, the feeling is mutual.” The nervous feeling faded, replaced by a focus he hadn’t felt in some time. Who would have thought Joshua Wistletop, someone he really never thought he’d like, would become such a good friend?
Abigail cleared her throat politely. “If this masculine bonding is quite finished, I really just want to get this over with!”
They all shared a brief, nervous grin, knowing they were no longer able to put this off.
“Okay, here we go.”
Ben took a deep breath and shoved hard against the doors.
Despite their enormous size the doors practically flew open, gliding easily and then slamming against the inner walls with a resounding clang like two monstrous bells being struck. Ben winced at the noise, but forgot about it immediately when he saw the dozens of guards lining the way to their left and right all the way up to the throne. They all stood to attention, spears at the ready and armour gleaming.
Suktar’s throne room was vast, perhaps the size of a football field, and the walls soared high overhead, arching at the middle to create a vaulted ceiling so far up Ben felt they might as well be outside. The back half of the room evidently protruded past the rest of the castle walls, because along both sides were tall windows that looked out over the landscape beyond. The front half mimicked that design, but instead of those narrow windows there were shallow stone alcoves containing busts, statues and war trophies. The floor was polished black marble, glittering with silver and gold specks that made it look so much like a starry night.
Behind the line of guards, seats like church pews were arrayed to either side of a wide aisle, but they were currently empty. That aisle led to a wide dais set some six feet above the rest, and atop that perched an enormous throne that looked to have been hewn from a single massive amethyst, all glittering purple facets and sharp edges.
Sitting atop the throne, muscular forearms resting on the great arms of the chair and head leaning back against the headrest, was King Suktar.
He looked as impressive as a dark elf possibly could. Even sitting he was huge, with great broad shoulders and arms that rippled with muscles. A regal cloak in many shades of purple flowed down his back and pooled to either side. The crown sitting on his head was simple but impressive, with a ruby the size of a golf ball set in the middle.
Ben and Joshua moved ahead, with Abigail just behind them, slowly approaching the king. It was eerily silent, with all those soldiers just ignoring them.
Suddenly, two points of purple light appeared above the throne, shining brightly, and then the king moved and Ben realised the light was Suktar’s eyes.
“Ah, my honoured guests have arrived at last!” King Suktar’s voice echoed effortlessly throughout the room, his tone strangely devoid of emotion. He looked around in apparent curiosity. “But there seem to be fewer of you than I expected. Surely all of the Guardians have come to confront me?”
Surprised that there was any chance to talk, Ben seized the opportunity. Anything to distract Suktar and get them closer. “The three of us are enough,” Ben replied through gritted teeth. To his ears his words sounded weak and his voice small, the vast size of the room swallowing them before they had travelled more than a few feet, but somehow the dark elf king’s voice reverberated throughout.
“Are you?” he asked, leaning forwards on his throne. Even from this distance his glowing purple eyes bore into Ben. “I see you have the sword, and you the shield and — ah, the one who wears the helm. Young lady, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He nodded his head, almost in respect.
This was not what Ben had expected at all. He looked around slowly as they continued to approach, now two-thirds of the way across the room. The guards hadn’t moved a muscle and there didn’t seem to be any way of hiding anyone or anything else in this spacious room. Not that Suktar needed anything other than these guards and himself.
“I believe you are the young Greenwood?” the dark elf king continued. “It doesn’t surprise me that Her Majesty gave the sword to Director Greenwood’s family line. He was… impressive.”
As Ben came closer it started becoming harder to move; he felt like he was pushing through some physical mass. A brief look over his shoulder showed that Abigail was falling behind and while Joshua was still with him the strain on his face was obvious.
He finally stopped a dozen paces from the throne and found that as soon as he stopped moving the pressure vanished.
Slowly standing up, Suktar looked down at them, a mirthless smile playing lightly across his face. After taking the few steps down from the throne, he stopped and adjusted his cloak. Not until then had Ben realised just how large the king was, towering comfortably over eight feet tall.
“I do appreciate you coming to listen to my proposal. I have even made sure my guards here are present to bear witness, should you agree. If not, well, we’ll talk about that after.”
Ben forced a chuckle despite feeling like he was about to throw up. “I’ll admit I’m surprised we’re sitting here chatting like old friends. Unless you are poorly informed I’m guessing you know exactly why we’re here, and I can’t believe you would be poorly informed.”
Suktar inclined his head, acknowledging the point. “Indeed… Ben, is it? May I call you Ben? I could, of course, extinguish your life without spending much energy or time, but in doing so I am relatively sure the armour you are so proudly wearing would vanish.”
With a flick of his wrist and no warning at all a bolt of crackling purple energy flew from Suktar’s left hand straight at Ben. Joshua reacted immediately, or maybe it was the shield that did. Either way, white light met purple with a flash, and then dimmed to leave Ben standing where he had been with no time to move, and Joshua just in front.
Crouching at the ready, Joshua held firm. Ben had the sword out, but it hadn’t registered the attack.
Suktar laughed softly. “As I was saying, you can see these artefacts are rather powerful. Not that that bolt of energy was much of anything — just a little test, really. But that shield really does do a good job, wouldn’t you say?”
He took a few steps forwards, his size becoming more and more intimidating, his eyes burning into theirs. Ben couldn’t help the thought that came into his mind that maybe this was a much better idea than a great, noble death. Why bother when he could use this power for good? Suktar didn’t seem as bad as everyone made out. He shook his head, trying to focus. Something about that thought felt wrong. Where was Abigail? He forced his eyes away from the king and glanced over his shoulder. Abigail was on her knees, the helm glowing gold, with energy streaming from it in all directions. As Ben looked, it somehow connected with him and his mind cleared. He noticed Joshua had taken a step forwards without him, towards Suktar, and Ben pulled him back.
The fact that there were mind games at play here meant he would have to act soon. Abigail couldn’t hold out for long. Time to roll the dice.
“This might come as a shock to Your Royal Dictatorness,” he declared, “but as a general rule you’re not that popular to work for. So as tempting as it is….”
This time it was Ben’s turn and with a swipe of the sword a bolt of white shot out, as bright as the sun, and slammed into a purple haze just in front of Suktar. The haze blurred and then cleared, leaving the king standing there unharmed.
Ben smirked up at him. “Just a test, you see, nothing like full strength, but I do prefer actions to words.”
The king of the dark elves allowed a slight frown to cross his brow. “Arrogant boy. I could take your armour with hardly any effort and you spurn my offer like a spoilt child.”
Ben was thinking fast. This was not a scenario he had considered. After all, who in their right mind would side with Suktar? In which case, why even make the offer? It was forcing Ben to revise his plan. Still, you played the cards you were dealt, and he’d always been good at thinking on his feet.
“Hmm, yes, you could give that a go, I guess,�
�� he admitted now. “Other than one point you might have missed. The parts of the armour aren’t just powerful; they’re also sentient and have to accept the person using them. And part of that is… what was it, Joshua? Oh yeah, you have to be descended from the original directors.”
Joshua nodded seriously, playing along. “You know, I do distinctly remember that now that you mention it, Ben.”
Their mocking tone seemed to be getting under the king’s skin, the initial frown coming back and the purple in his eyes somehow getting brighter but darker at the same time.
“You know, young Greenwood, you do remind me too much of your ancestor. Unlike your kind, who live such brief lives, to me the time he was making a nuisance of himself seems like yesterday. I’m sure he’d be quite content to know that he managed to produce someone so many years later, by your species’ account, who was just as insufferable as he was.”
Ben shrugged. “What can I say? It’s a special ability us Greenwoods seem to have perfected.” And he let rip his most insolent smile, grin spreading ear to ear.
Two powerful strides forwards brought Suktar within a single leap of him. “Yes, and one that I would like to end.” Out of nowhere the powerful dark elf produced a huge black sword, swiping it across and into Ben.
With reaction time he didn’t know he had, Ben managed to bring Elizabeth’s Sword across to crash into the massive thing. Joshua was thrown back, but immediately got to his feet and charged back in just as the next attack came from above. Holding the shield up, he took the full brunt of the force and bent his knees, the shield somehow dissipating the power of the blow.
“Ben, you know that amazing plan of yours?” Joshua shouted over the din.
Suktar stepped back and unleashed a sheet of purple fire as tall as him and as wide as one of the Dragonway carriages. Ben shot a spell at the ground and together he and Joshua knelt down in a sphere that held off the fire until it dissipated.
“Yeah, what about it?” Ben shouted back, barely able to hear over the arcane fire.
The king came through the haze with a snarl, black blade cutting through right where they were crouching. Both of them rolled in opposite directions and backed up, circling around to be able to fight together again.
“It’s utterly insane!”
Ben, just recovering, nodded sharply. “I know. But follow my lead.” Before Joshua could answer he moved in and shot a spell from his spellshooter, creating a sphere of energy like a shield on his left arm with Elizabeth’s Sword dancing and flying in a rapid attack. Suktar deftly blocked and countered, and without Joshua there Ben knew he would be dead already. Suddenly, with a roar Suktar unleashed a black energy that somehow managed to suck the light out of Elizabeth’s Sword. When the great black blade smashed down Ben couldn’t keep his grip and his artefact flew across the floor.
Suktar then leaned back and kicked Ben in the chest, cracking his ribs and sending him flying.
Head spinning and chest burning like never before, Ben tried to move but couldn’t focus. He thought he heard something and then suddenly a shadow was over him, and a shout sounded from somewhere nearby.
“No!” Joshua threw himself forwards and stopped the black sword from cutting Ben in half. The massive blow smashed the shield from his grip and deeply sliced into his left arm, crushing the bone. With a scream he went down, blood streaming from the wound.
Ben lay there, waiting for the killing blow. But instead all he saw was the king of the dark elves looking down on him, the rage fading from his eyes and rapidly replaced by resentment.
“Pathetic. I don’t need this armour. Is that all it can do? I know you are only two untrained boys, but, after all, these were created by the High Council itself. Ha! Even with their combined power you are nothing to me!”
Ben coughed weakly as Suktar circled around. He looked over at Joshua, who was bleeding heavily and white in the face.
“Hold on, Josh! Hold on!”
Forcing himself to sit up, he looked around for the sword — and his heart sank. Suktar had picked up the enchanted blade and was studying it.
Keep him talking. Somehow Ben had to keep him talking.
“You act so confidently,” he called out, “but you know it’s not that simple. It’s not as simple as big bad dark elf defeats armour-carrying heroes and hey presto! You win.” Ben coughed, a spasm of pain shooting through his chest. “It’s not like some prophecy from a book. You’ll lose anyway against the combined might of the Seen and Unseen Kingdoms.”
Suktar looked up, genuine surprise on his face.
Suddenly, the dark elf roared with laughter, so much so that he had to lower Elizabeth’s Sword as he clutched at his own stomach. “Oh, no, dear boy,” Suktar replied once he’d recovered, wiping tears from his glowing eyes. “You really have no idea, do you? Let me take the opportunity to show you, before I finish you off. It will be so much fun.”
Those eyes flared even brighter, eliciting a cry of pain from Abigail behind them. The glow spread outwards, filling the throne room with a fine purple haze. That eerie fog reached Ben, Josh and Abigail and seemed to seep into their own eyes, causing the scene around them to vanish completely.
And in its place Ben saw an unfolding series of horrors.
— Chapter Thirty-One —
The War
At first, all that could be seen was a confusion of people — humans, dwarves, elves, trolls — as well as every flying beast the Unseen Kingdoms had to offer, all hovering or circling in mid-air. It seemed to Ben like he was somehow there as well, part of that chaos or hovering just above it, in and out and around.
Suddenly, he heard a voice that sounded familiar, and he concentrated on it, hoping to at least find something that could anchor him. The swirling mass of figures seemed to shift, centring around a specific point, and Ben felt himself being reeled in, a large, old-fashioned ship coming into focus. He could see huge masts and sails rising up above, cannons lining both sides, and sailors climbing up and down the rigging.
Again Ben heard that voice, now calling out commandingly.
“…no choice. If we don’t throw them back, they will wipe out our entire fleet.”
Ben somehow came closer and passed through an outside wall into what could only be the captain’s cabin. A group of five people stood or sat in conference around a worn wooden ship table. Their voices were tight with tension.
“It would be suicide, Director,” one of them declared. “The dark elves outnumber us in the air three to one, and have brought an entire flock of black dragons.”
A tall man with long, wavy hair down to his shoulders stood at the back facing the others. Though his face had deep laugh lines he was not smiling now, and his eyes shone with intensity as he replied, “I know what they’ve fielded against us as well as anyone, Arnoc, but it makes no difference. We stop them in the sky or they completely wipe out our fleet.” He had a thick gold coin in his hand and now he flicked it into the air and snatched it back, slamming it down on the table. “One thing is for sure, they won’t expect it.”
The dwarf stood and looked around at the others. “This is madness, but I don’t see any other way.”
A slightly built figure Ben thought must be an elf raised her hand. When she spoke her voice was incredibly calm, almost serene, but despite that softness her words commanded attention. “I believe you do not know the members of the Institute, dwarf. Only the strongest willed can use the spells that their spellshooters harness. The dark elves are born with their magic, and use it even if they are, frankly, quite poor at it. The problem is not being outnumbered, it is the black dragons.”
The tall man was pacing back and forth now, the coin rolling across the fingers of his right hand. Ben realised with a jolt who it was — Alex, the Trade Director of the Institute! “Yes, Eleasen, you are right,” Alex agreed. “But we must try anyway. We will have to use their numbers against them, confuse them, keep them off balance. We need strike forces, diamond formation, each led by the best fl
yers among us.” Suddenly, he raised his voice. “Drax! Get in here!”
The door opened and a large, rough-featured man poked his head in. “Director?”
Alex strode over to him, hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “Drax, it’s time. Get all the best, all of them! We ride, diamond formation, ten units south, ten north. Hit and run, confuse and distract. We have to pull them away from the fleet!”
Drax stood to attention and gave a smart salute. “It will be done.” The door closed and Alex turned back to the rest. The voices faded and Ben somehow moved back out and hovered above the great ship.
“Stand fast!” Alex shouted, his magically enhanced voice able to be heard over the shrieking wind, booming gunfire and bestial screams. He fired his spellshooter at an oncoming wyvern even as his own banked left, narrowly avoiding the flame of a red dragon from behind. With a roar of frustration it wheeled away, while the dark elf warrior Alex had just shot toppled off the wyvern.
The mixed Traders, Wardens, and Spellswords under Alex’s command followed his lead, their Pegasi, gryphons and wyverns charging the mass of dark elves that had been waiting there. Below them, the ships of the Royal Navy, the Institute, and other allies targeted the attackers as well, anti-aircraft cannons firing with great booming shots. It was taking its toll on the smaller creatures, but the dragons were too well protected. The dark elves were able to rain fireballs, hailstorms and ice barrages down upon the ships and Alex was leading a counterattack on the most heavily concentrated area.
From his position, Ben could see the numerical advantage Alex and his allies had been talking about. Several of the dark elves were mounted on dragons, basilisks, and other nasty creatures, far bigger and more powerful than the Pegasi the Institute members favoured. Those monsters were far slower, however, and it looked like Alex’s plan was making a difference.