by C. J. Krüger
I look around to see anyone else. Surprisingly it is Urgnak who steps up.
“Aye, me, too,” he says, though he doesn’t look happy about it. “But you better not be lying, boyo.”
“We will send word among our people,” Ulfgar says. “And send you a dozen from each clan.”
I nod and look to Azhrav. “Will you send for anyone else?”
He nods. “A dozen.”
My eyes look toward my father. “Of course I will send for warriors,” he says, bowing his head. “I would join myself, but the situation in the north demands my attention now.”
“Make sure to send for David Rickson,” I tell him. “He’s a friend of mine.”
He smiles. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”
“I will not be sending anyone.” It is the Dark Lady who speaks. “We made our choice long ago, but we will fight alongside you in our own way.”
“Very well,” I say, nodding in understanding. “Thank you for your support, Athreine.”
“No, thank you,” she says, her tone almost gentle. “You remind me so much of Diarmuid sometimes. It breaks my heart a little.”
“Mine, too,” Azhrav admits. “Mine, too.”
“And thirty-three from Arteria will join the ranks of the Sol Guard,” I announce. “One hundred and forty-four warriors.”
“Why one hundred and forty-four?” Azhrav asks.
“Because,” I tell him, smirking. “It’s a number that pleases the Twin Lights.”
* * *
And done! the Twin Lights echo in my mind, followed by the sound of a lock clicking into place.
I didn’t change your mind about the Sol Guard, did I? I ask sheepishly.
No, Our son, you did not, They say, and I detect humor in Their voice.
Then why say no at first? I ask, furrowing my brows.
Because We wanted to see why you wanted to do it, They say calmly. Sometimes you have to find the door on your own.
The meeting is adjourned and a plan of action formed. The others are leaving now, leaving me sitting in my chair, thinking about our plan. One hundred and forty-four warriors of Light and a group of scribes that need to be found are our only hope.
It sounds insane when I think about it, but I put faith in the Lights. This is Their path for me. Even if They don’t make it easy for me to follow, I will stumble my way through the dark towards Them.
As I sit in silence, pondering the morning’s events, Sivandar steps into the room.
“Your Majesty,” he greets me. “I was outside the door, listening quite intently to the conversation.”
I lift my brow. “And what do you think?”
He frowns. “I worry that inviting so many people to be so close to you in order to teach them puts you at risk.”
“It’s a necessary risk,” I tell him, standing up. “But if you’re so worried about me, I think you should join the Sol Guard.”
“What?” he asks in surprise. “I don’t—”
“It feels odd to learn from someone like me?” I ask, frowning. “For what it’s worth, I think you would make a fine Sol Guardian.”
I can see the conflict brewing behind his eyes. Finally he bows. “I will report when you command it, sir.”
“Don’t do it for me,” I tell him gravely. “Do it because you wish to know the Lights. If you do it out of a sense of duty to me, you’ll fail. It has to come from faith.”
“Yes, your Majesty,” he says in a shaky voice. “I will come.”
I nod and begin walking out of the war room, leaving Sivandar to ponder his choice. My feet carry me out of the White Spire and into the city itself. Taking in a deep breath of forest air, I remember to enjoy this simple thing. Fresh air. The great trees of the city in which the inhabitants live were sung to life by ancient Elves and manipulated to form great buildings. They stand as a symbol of the Elves’ commitment to live at one with nature and to sanctify the blessings of the Holy Lights.
The weight of the crown on my head serves as a reminder of who I am now and the responsibility I have to my people. Part of me finds it hard to believe that I am king, and especially king of Arteria. The possibility was unthinkable a year ago, and I thought it was going to be a long, long time before I ever sat on the throne of my father.
As I walk, I catch the sight of a man dressed in a long red cloak. I get the feeling he is following me, but he is only hovering at a distance. Surely it must be nothing, I think, and I continue on my way. Deeper into the city, among the thicker trees, I catch sight of a different figure in red.
There is a surge of someone gathering their will and at the last moment I catch someone aiming a devastating fireball at me. Diving out of the way, I roll on the ground and look up to face my attacker. Or rather, attackers. There are four of them, all dressed in red.
“Why do you attack me?” I ask, my eyes narrowing.
“Arteria will never rule over Kal-Gora,” one mutters and throws another fireball at me. “The purity of Men must be protected!”
I lift my hand and raise a shield of magic to block the attack. Golden Light illuminates my hand and the fireball splashes against the shield like water.
“Well, it’s a good thing my father is alive,” I say angrily.
“Not for long,” one says, her lips pulled back into a sinister sneer. “We’re going to kill you, him, and his mongrel wife. Then Grand Duke Halford will rule.”
“It’s generally not a good idea to give away your plan, miss,” I tell her calmly.
“You won’t be alive to tell anyone!” she snaps and summons a blade of red light.
A soulblade! And it’s red!
She charges at me and so do the others, all with angry red blades in their hands. Taking in a deep breath I push out with my will and I can feel the Golden Fire emanating from my eyes. They cower back and their blades shatter.
“Tell me everything about this Duke Halford,” I demand with my will.
I can see in their eyes that they are fighting the compulsion to speak. Finally, one says, “We are his loyal servants. He came to us promising riches and taught us the secrets of your filthy Elven magic.”
“Be quiet!” the woman snaps. “Tell this mutt nothing.”
I increase the weight of my will and direct it at the woman. She cringes in pain and falls to her knees.
“Release her,” I demand. “I am addressing the demon within.”
Her eyes roll back into her head and suddenly she is grinning wildly. “Little worm has some teeth now,” she sneers. “I remember you, trying feebly to fight off my masters.”
“Is this feeble?” I ask, raising my hand. With my energy, I choke the demon within, leaving the woman unharmed. I slowly pull the demon out, its spiritual form thrashing in my grasp as it leaves the girl.
“No! It burns,” it cries out. “Do not do this.”
“Tell me what you know!” I say again. “In the name of the Twin Lights tell me what you know.”
“Ahhh!” it screams. “Fine! Fine, I will tell you,” it whimpers. “The Mistress of Nightmares has infiltrated Kal-Gora. She is corrupting fools like these to kill you and the royal family so that her puppet will sit on the throne.”
“The people won’t side with demons,” I say, feeling disgusted at the thought.
“They will once they see our army,” it says, cringing in pain. “She will promise to spare their lives if they serve. Once the royal family is dead and enough propaganda is spread, the Humans will think all of this is the fault of the Elves. It will be a war they want nothing to do with.”
“I see,” I say, clenching my jaws in rage. “Be gone with you, demon.”
I raise my hand, about to strike it down when it cries out, “No! I told you what I know. Do not send me back to the Void,” it pleads. “Please, my lord, I beg you.”
“I am not going to send you back to darkness,” I say firmly. “No, you will face the judgement of the Lights.” I lift my hand and smite the demon with divine wrath.
It cries out once and then its astral body shifts from red to gold and then finally explodes into nothing. My would-be assassins watch in horror as the demon evaporates and then they bow down before me.
“We are sorry, my lord,” they all say, even the woman who had been possessed.
I look into their hearts and see that they acted out of fear—fear spread by this Mistress of Nightmares. “Stand up,” I tell them gently.
They do, and on their faces is a mixture of horror and regret. “Please forgive us, Champion.”
What should I do? I ask my Heavenly Parents.
Whatever you think is best, they reply.
“You have sinned against the Lights by consorting with a demon. You have let fear overtake your minds and have tried to murder a fellow creation of the Lights,” I say, my voice level and without emotion.
They cringe as I speak but say nothing.
“You do not know the Lights,” I say to them, “for if you did, you would not have let fear bring you to this state.”
“We wish to know Them,” the woman speaks. “If possible.”
“Of course it’s possible,” I say, smiling softly. “Repent and be forgiven. Repent and feel Their love for you. Then go and spread Their word to all you find. Show them the love of the Twin Lights.”
Tears fall openly from their eyes. I can sense that they are praying and taking my words to heart.
“Thank you,” the woman says, her voice choked with emotion. “You have freed us.”
I shake my head. “It was not I, but the Ones who sent me that freed you,” I tell her. “It is by Their grace, freely given, that you are free. Go now and tell others what has happened here.”
Well done, They say as the group sheds their red cloaks and walks away.
It was the right thing to do, I say, my heart deeply troubled. Please protect them so that they can spread Your word. Guide their hands and their thoughts so that those who hear them will know You.
As I pray, an explosion comes from the east. Dark power sweeps through the land, turning the air icy cold. I look up and see smoke rising in the distance.
Duncan! It is Ayda’s voice shouting in my mind, sounding strained and frightened.
What’s happening? I project the thought into Ayda’s mind. I sense evil and see smoke.
The response is slow but she finally replies, Demons are attacking Silvertree Village! She exclaims. Your mother is hurt.
Chapter Nine
Aydamaris Lightheart
(Year 3761)
Silvertree Village is one of two other major towns within the Arterian Forest, about a league away from the capitol. The attack came swiftly and without warning. A portal opened in the sky and a horde of heavily armored demonic brutes fell from the black tear. What was a pleasant walk with Eldatha is now a battle for our lives.
A demon throws himself on me, knocking me off my feet. The air is pushed out from my lungs and my head hits an exposed root. Eldatha reacts quickly, summoning her blue soulblade, and stabs the demon in the chest. It evaporates as it dies and its soul returns to the Voidlands.
Quickly, I stand up and draw my blade from within. Fighting in a long dress isn’t exactly what I have in mind, but it’s the best I can do at the moment. Another demon comes into my field of vision. It stands ten feet tall and its hide looks like some kind of horrid amalgamation of a lizard’s scales and rotten skin.
“That one!” it howls, pointing at me. “Mistress wants that one.”
A daring smirk plays on my lips. “If you want me, come and get me,” I taunt. With a flicker of magic, I rip a slit in the dress and tear off the sleeves, giving myself freedom of movement. I really like this dress, too. It’s purple.
It charges at me with its hulking mass. A typical demon thug. Brutal and stupid. I dance out of the way and slice the demon in half at the waist, its top half falling to the earth as its legs twitch.
I glance around and find Eldatha engaged in battle with three demons. Her skill with the blade is unmatched except by my brother and she is easily able to deal with the minor threat.
The other Elves from the village are starting to join the fray but they aren’t warriors. A basic knowledge of fighting and command over magic are nothing compared to the brutality of demons. I watch as dozens of my brothers and sisters are cut down.
“Eldatha!” I cry out. “We need to block off the demons from attacking the village.”
“Go!” she shouts. “I will hold them off here.”
Nodding, I take off as fast as my feet will carry me. Sprinting through the line of demons, I cut them down as I pass. Quick and deadly, I fell several before they even realize I’m there. A demon that resembles a giant black ant is holding a young elf by the neck with its claw. The elf is crying out in horror as terrible mandibles snap in front of his face.
Blood and rage surge through me. I reach out with magic and crush the demon ant’s skull. A gush of innards explodes on the young elf but he is dropped safely to the ground and alive.
“Get up!” I say, yanking him to his feet. “Gather who you can and get in behind my barrier. Okay?”
He quivers in fear but is able to nod. “Y…yes, High Priestess… I mean, my Qu—”
“Shut up and go!” I snap at him. “You can figure out what to call me later.”
Duncan! I shout mentally toward my husband.
What’s happening? I sense evil and see smoke, he replies quickly.
A demon holding a massive battle-ax tries to take off my head. I duck out of the way and stick my sword into his stomach. The thing topples over and I scan the battlefield. Eldatha is fighting more than she can handle now and I watch as one of the many demons gets the better of her. Deep claws slash at her back, leaving huge rents in her flesh.
“No!” I cry out. “Burn, you filthy demons,” I say, clenching my will and releasing it with terrible force.
The demons stop advancing on Eldatha and burst into flames from the inside out. With another surge of magic, I reach out my hand and point to the ground next to me.
“Here!” I say and she is transported next to me.
“Thank you,” she says weakly.
Demons are attacking Silvertree Village! I exclaim into Duncan’s mind. Your mother is hurt.
Hold on, my love, he reassures me firmly. I’m coming with reinforcements.
With all my strength I summon a barrier of magic and make it as wide as I can while also keeping its strength. “Duncan will be here soon,” I tell her. “Just rest a moment.”
“I’ll be fine,” she assures me. “These wounds are ones I can heal with magic. Just keep the demons off me.”
I nod and watch as several more demons drop from the sky. There must be a hundred of them, or maybe even more. Lights, protect and guide us. There is a rush of strength that flows through me and though I am looking out at a sea of demons, I feel safe and calm.
They bash against the barrier with magic and claws and swords. Each blow causes sweat to form on my brow as I struggle to hold on. I cry out in anger and push the barrier against the demons, summoning as much will as I can. They recoil in pain for a moment but then they resume their assault, even more determined.
In the distance I hear the thundering of hooves. I look up and see Duncan riding Ronae, the great white horse. The horse carries Duncan so quickly that they appear as a blur, even to my Elven eyes. They crash into the demons and Duncan jumps off the horse’s back and summons Solraxion to his hands.
With effortless motion, the Champion of the Lights cuts his way through the demonic horde. Ronae fights by his side, stomping and trampling demons that dare to come near his mighty hooves. The demons bashing against my barrier finally notice that Duncan is destroying them from behind and they turn their attention to him.
When he sees that he is surrounded he stops for a moment. I see his eyes close and I can feel him praying to the Lights. Suddenly, there is a blinding light emanating from him and golden wings spread from his back. The l
ight spreads through the demonic ranks, causing them to shrink back in fear. Some of the weaker ones start to evaporate in the presence of Duncan and the Golden Light.
From the demons’ flank, several Elves come in on horseback and they trample over the demons and decimate their ranks. The creatures never stood a chance and the horde is slaughtered in a matter of moments.
“Good fight,” Azhrav says, dismounting from his black horse. He pats the beast on the back. “It’s been a long time, friend,” he says to the horse. It knickers in response and rubs its face against Azhrav’s hand.
“Where is my wife?” Jonathan says, his tone enraged and worried.
“I’m here, darling,” she says, slowly standing up. She managed to use her magic to stop most of the bleeding, but the deep cuts still remain on her back. “I’ll be all right.”
He hurries over to her and wraps his arms around her. “Don’t move around too much,” he says gently and inspects her wounds. “I can heal this.”
She looks like she is about to argue but then seems to think better of it. “Thank you, Jonathan.”
My eyes look for Duncan and I find him standing in the middle of the battlefield. The remains of demons are all around him and I can see in his eyes that he is troubled. He lowers himself to his knees and holds his hands out in front of him.
“Holy Lights,” he says, “Guide Your children that died here today back into their bodies. Lift them up and restore them to health so that all might see and experience Your glory.”
“Your Majesty, no!” Sivandar yells. “It’s impossible. It will kill you if you try.”
Still, Duncan sits on his knees and continues to pray. Golden Light forms around him and crawls along the ground like overflowing water. We watch in disbelief as the Light covers the dead and seems to be absorbed into them.
“It’s too late now,” Azhrav says. “He’s committed to the task.”
Duncan falls to the ground, seemingly unconscious. I rush over to his side and press my head against his chest.
“Damn fool,” Sivandar says. “He’s—”