by C. J. Krüger
The demons snarl and draw their weapons. They start rushing at us on the open field of the valley, but we press on, crashing into them. Even as Coria’s hooves begin trampling demons, more and more surround us. I leap off of her and summon my blade and begin to slice through as many demons as I can reach.
Lights watch over us. Show these creatures of darkness your power through us, I pray. Demons surround me and threaten to overwhelm me. As they close in, I focus my will and release it as a burst of energy. Golden Light flashes and I feel a great concussive shockwave. Golden Wings form on my back and I charge at the demons, almost flying through the air.
The weaker demons are simply incinerated as I approach and even the stronger ones cower back.
“Use the Light!” I cry out. “Do not rely on yourselves, my brothers and sisters. Let Them guide your sword.”
I feel a gentle touch on my hand and watch as my translucent blue soulblade begins to transform. It takes on a solid form, with a curved, almost crescent shaped blade. A faint golden hue hangs around the blade and I grip the hilt tightly.
For you, Our daughter, the gentle voice of I’luna rings in my mind. This is Lunaria, the Starblade. It is a blade of truth and love and with it you will drive out darkness.
Thank you, Mother Moon, I say, closing my eyes and focusing my mind. I sense a demon almost on me and I dance out of the way as it strikes at me. Lunaria cuts through the demon but it doesn’t perish. The wound I inflicted grows and grows on the demon and it howls in rage and pain. Finally, the demon falls and its outer shell evaporates, leaving behind a strange looking humanoid creature, covered in fur.
“Thank you,” it says, trying to stand up.
“What… what are you?” I ask, furrowing my brows distrustfully.
“That doesn’t matter,” it says, its tone filled with fright. “Behind you!”
I duck and roll out of the way as a wicked blade passes over my head. Growling, I lift my hand and blast the demon with a beam of light. It turns to ash on impact. Another tries to attack and I swing my blade at its neck. Unlike with the furry creature, this demon simply dies like the others, leaving me feeling very confused.
The blade reveals the true nature of all life, They say to me. Even demons.
Are you saying that not all demons are evil? I ask, even as I fight with a large brute of a demon. If some are good, is killing them wrong?
Demons slain with Our power are saved from their wretched fate, child, They assure me. They are corrupted life forms from all over the universe, and rather than simply returning to the Voidlands only to come back again, we save them and bring them to Our Hall. This creature is tied to Our purpose and the blade has revealed his true form, cleansing the corruption of his shell.
I don’t have time to be confused right now and I put my faith in their words. The creature runs over to me and hides behind me.
“You have to help me,” he says fearfully. “I don’t want to die here.”
“Just stay close,” I assure him.
A group of demons charges at me, but Azhrav is there to blast them into dust. A broad grin is painted on his face as he slices through demon after demon, or destroys them with Holy Fire. If it weren’t so brutal, I would think he was like an innocent playing with a new toy.
“We’ve got them now!” he cheers.
I look around me and I see the battle is going very well. The demons are falling over themselves trying to flee from the light of the Sol Guards. Many of them have golden wings protruding from their back, a sign that they are one with the Lights. They strike hard and fast, holy retribution fueling their blows. In all my years, I’ve never seen such massive devastation in battle. The place that I am standing on is free of demons because they are trying to flee, only to be chased down by the Quel’ras and their Sol Guard riders.
“It’s going to take us hours to finish them all off,” I say, frowning. “I just hope Duncan and the others will be all right while we are dealing with this.”
“I have faith that they will be, Ayda,” Azhrav says calmly. “Why don’t we talk about this one,” he says, pointing to the strange creature, “while the others are hunting demons?”
I nod and turn around to face the former demon. “There is time now and you are safe. Who are you? What are you?”
He stiffens and looks very nervous. “I… my name is Grank,” he says, bowing his head. “I am not of this world.”
“I could gather that myself,” I tell him, smiling at him. “You look almost like a Human, but not quite. How did you become a demon?”
His body trembles and he shakes his head. “No, no, no, no,” he repeats over and over, his body rocking back and forth.
“Be at ease, friend,” I tell him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“No!” he shouts, his eyes wild with fear. He shoves me away and tries to run.
He’s unexpectedly strong and I am pushed to the ground. “Come back!” I call after him. I stand but Azhrav is already chasing him. “Don’t hurt him!”
The ancient elf runs the creature down and holds him at sword point. I rush over and brush the blade away.
“It’s all right,” I tell him firmly. “You are safe.” I channel my will into him, giving truth and power to my words.
The creature gulps and nods. “I… I am sorry. I just…”
“Shh,” I tell him. “It’s all right. You can’t go running off like that. This is still a battleground.”
“I cannot tell you why I was such a foul beast,” he says, shaking his head back and forth rapidly. “Just… thank you for saving me. Please, please don’t let them take me.”
“On my life,” I tell him sincerely, “no harm will come to you. Come, get onto Coria. She will keep you safe.”
“Coria?” he asks, looking around in dazed confusion.
I point to the Quel’sar.
“But that’s just a stupid beast,” he protests. “How can she keep me safe?”
Coria rears her legs and nearly kicks Grank in the face. He cowers in fear.
“I meant no offense!” he grovels. “I did not think that it would understand me.”
That hardly makes calling someone stupid appropriate, she mentally projects to all of us. As a favor to my friend, I will protect you, but another insult like that and I will send you to your Makers.
“It speaks,” he says in horror. “It speaks in my mind!”
“Yes,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “So be nice and get on her back. She will make sure you don’t get into trouble. Nothing can outrun a Quel’ras.”
He nods, though his eyes are distrustful. “Very well,” he says, and slowly shambles over to Coria. “Please do not drop me.”
No rider has ever fallen from my back, she replies calmly. Unless I wanted them off, of course.
Chapter Thirteen
Duncan Lightheart
(Year 3761)
Death.
Death is all I see. The numbers in the demon horde are unimaginable and they are busy slaughtering my father’s army. If we don’t act soon, the demons will break through and crush Bal-Mora.
“There must be close to a million or more,” David says, his voice strained and fearful.
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “We have no choice but to meet them head-on.”
“We might all die,” he says, looking me in the eye.
I nod. “Maybe,” I say, furrowing my brows. “But I promise you that the world will assuredly fall if we do not stop them here. We have no choice.”
My old professors, Duvox and Heathrow, ride up next to me, their faces grim.
“What’s the plan, your Majesty?” Duvox asks, surprisingly with a smile.
I give her a long look, trying to decide if she’s just hopeful, or if she’s insane. “Is there something to be amused about?”
“Just you,” she says, chuckling. “It’s like the days when your father was leading us against King Markus.”
“Not exactly,” says Heathrow. “Those poor s
aps were just possessed. These are fully fledged demons. And a lot of them, at that.”
“The plan is the same it has always been,” I tell them and draw Solraxion from thin air. The mighty blade glows proudly in the sunlight.
“I have to admit, that big knife inspires a lot of confidence,” Heathrow says, his lips forming a grin. “So we ride in with all the metal and magic and give them a what-for?”
I shake my head and say, “We ride in with our faith. We ride with righteousness and dispense the Light’s avenging wrath.”
I guide Ronae so that I can look at the small legion I have with me.
You are a good man, Duncan Lightheart, he says in my mind.
So are you, Lord of the Quel’ras, I reply, giving him a pat on his neck. But this isn’t the end.
When I look at my warriors, my face is grim and determined. “Today, I do not see a group of men and women destined to see the Holy Halls. Today, I see guardians of truth and justice. All of you are children of the Light. We, as one, have the power to rise above this Darkness. I tell you truly, if you give your life to the Ones who sent me, you need not fear the Void. Ride with me into battle, knowing They are with you!”
The roar of eight thousand warriors echoes against the sides of the valley. The Quel’ras throw up their hooves, joining in the war cry. I turn and face the enemy. They are butchering my father’s men and pushing across the field toward Bal-Mora.
“Today, we rid Argurion of this plague!” I cry and start the charge.
We race across the field, unafraid of what awaits us when we get there. The speed of our mounts seems to increase. Even they are ready for the end. I raise myself in my saddle, leaning forward and pointing my sword toward the enemy.
Father Sun, guide my blade. Mother Moon, guard over us. The sword glows and I gather my will into the tip and release it with a mighty roar. The beam of Holy Light extends and slices through the demons. Others watching me do the same, but the amount of light I see could not be coming from just my Sol Guards.
I turn my head back and see that the entire legion is glowing with Golden Fire.
“Their will be done!” I cry once more and the others join me.
Holy Wings sprout from my back. Glory to the Lights. We are upon the enemy now and I jump off of Ronae to meet the enemy on foot. Thousands of them are already dead from our attack, but hundreds of thousands still remain.
In the chaos, I see an army made up of eight thousand Elves, Dwarves, and Men with Golden Wings carving their way through the demons. I jump into the sky and flap my wings. They carry me like a dragon hawk across the battlefield. As I fly, I gather my will and unleash barrage after barrage of holy wrath.
The demons ahead see me and their strongest spell casters turn on me. Suddenly, I feel the will of thousands gathering against me. They unleash an unholy torrent of magic, all with the single purpose of destroying me. My wings are strong and fast, and I dodge as quickly as I am able. The sky quickly becomes a minefield. I realize the magic missiles aren’t flying off into the sky, but are following and surrounding me.
With a cry, I unleash a wave of holy fire. It knocks and disperses many projectiles, but not all of them. The first attack strikes me in the shoulder and stuns me, just for a moment. Before I can comprehend the pain, a thousand other magical attacks strike me in quick succession.
I scream in pain and fall to the ground, my wings evaporating. Solraxion falls from my grip as I crash into the ground. The impact leaves a small crater in the earth.
Groaning, I try to stand but something kicks me in the ribs. I am turned over and I see a hulking beast approaching me, its great fangs dripping with saliva in anticipation. Even weakened, I gather my strength and force it out like a great tidal wave.
The demon stops and the ones around me fall to their knees in pain, but my strength is not enough to hold them for long. I stand up, my legs shaking under me, and summon the Highblade to my hand.
“Come!” I taunt. “You have no power over me, demons. The Ones who sent me are the authority here.”
“How amazing it is that you cling to Them,” a demon snarls.
It pushes its way through the ranks and when I catch glimpse of it, I am shocked to see a female elf, though her skin is ghostly white and her eyes are burning red.
“You are an Abyssal,” I say fiercely. “A traitor of the second war.”
“Traitor!” she screeches. “Ha! How little you know, boy. Your eyes are blind and your ears are open only to what suits you. The Lights made promises to us and broke them, but the Void keeps His.”
“Lies,” I say firmly and raise my blade. “You turned away from Those who love you and now you spread death.”
“How can you say that?” she asks incredulously. “This world isn’t flawed and doomed because of us. It’s doomed because They let it be that way. Did They help you when your fellows practically tortured you? Did They save you from the abuse? No! In fact, it was They who orchestrated your birth to fight Their war.”
For a moment her words shake me and she begins to laugh cruelly. In that moment, the Abyssal draws her long curved blade and charges at me. I’m too slow to move and I feel the blade slide into my heart. I look down in horror as the blood spills from my chest and I cough bright red.
“You can still join us, Lightheart,” she says mockingly. “Join us and live.”
I grab the Abyssal’s armored arm and pin it with all my strength. I smash my head against hers and hear a satisfying crunch.
“You filthy little ingrate!” she screeches. “You broke my beautiful nose. I’ll kill you.”
“It’s an improvement,” I spit. Father Sun, Mother Moon. I am yours… always. I’m sorry for doubting, even for a moment. I grab the blade and yank it out of my chest. I fall to the ground and watch as my blood pools on the ground.
The demon slowly walks up to me and lifts her hand. An ugly, disgusting aura emanates from her as she gathers her unholy might. “Die, you pathetic worm.”
When the Abyssal strikes me with her magic, it is sent away, recoiling from me. A bright, thick wall of Light surrounds me and I feel the wound in my chest closing rapidly and my strength returns.
“Impossible!” she screeches. “It’s not possible.”
I straighten up and take hold of Solraxion. “All is possible in the Light,” I say as I bring my sword down upon her.
The Abyssal summons her own blade and lifts it to block my attack, but the Highblade will not be denied its prey. It slices through the dark blade as cleanly as it would flesh and cleaves the Abyssal in two. Both halves of her fall to the ground, spilling entrails and brains on the ground.
The body begins to disintegrate, but a bright wisp of energy arises from the corpse.
“Thank you,” it says, the voice soft and loving. “You freed me.”
I watch in awe. “What is your name?”
“Merrin,” she replies. “I go to Them now. Peace be with you, Champion.”
Before I could ask more, the ball of light ascends towards the heavens.
We rejoice in every child you return to us, Duncan, Their voices sound in my mind. They did not deserve this fate.
I thought she turned away from you, I say, feeling confused and disoriented.
Evron, our fallen son, tortured his own until they pledged allegiance to the Void, They say, and I can sense They are on the verge of tears. They lost faith but that does not mean We are blind to them. So thank you, Lightheart, for giving her back to Us.
I will do all I can to redeem them all, I assure Them, passion stirring in my heart. Thank You for guiding me and protecting me. I know You were with me at all times.
You are a fine man, Duncan, They reply. Go. We are with you always. Never forget that.
* * *
The battle of Bal-Mora is going in our favor, for the moment. The seventh legion, armed with the powers of the Twin Lights, are pushing the forces of darkness back. We managed to wedge ourselves between them and the city and have for
med a line across the exit of the valley, Devil’s Pass.
The demons keep trying to push through, but the walls of the mountain keep them from using their numbers. Every couple of hours they throw a few thousand troops into the pass and try to break our line so that they can push up into the mountain pass and circle around to attack Bal-Mora’s gates.
My father’s army has fallen back to recover, and fresh troops are being deployed out of the garrison. Knowing my father, he was on the front lines, and I go and search for him. We’ve made a makeshift camp in the pass, but if the demons break past my legion, we’ll have to quickly fall back to the city.
The armor Mother Moon made for me weighs heavily on my back. I send it back to the pocket world and breathe easily now that I am just in regular clothes.
I make my way to a medical tent. If anyone knows the state of my father, it will be a healer. Inside the tent there are about twenty cots, all filled with injured troops. The injuries are either ghastly, with limbs chewed or clawed off, or minor cuts and bruises. There are very few moderate wounds, as is to be expected when fighting demons.
“Is there any word of my father?” I ask one of the healers.
She shakes her head. “No, sire,” she replies. “He was moving up the pass when I saw him last.”
I nod. That must mean he’s in the city and safe. “Thank you,” I reply sincerely. “Can these men be moved?”
Her lips purse for a moment. “Some, yes,” she replies curtly. “With all due respect, sire, I really have to get back to work.”
“Of course,” I say and turn to take my leave. As I walk out a man grabs me by the arm. I look down into his face and see that his eyes have been clawed out of their sockets.
“Please help,” he rasps, and I see that most of his throat is missing, too. “Have mercy, Champion.”
“There is no helping him, sire,” the healer says, her tone hard. “His wounds are too great. But he’ll be comfortable before he goes.”
I take the man’s hand and kneel down. “What’s your name?”
“Lasaedius,” he rasps. “Please help.”